A day that had begun with joy and hope turned grey and foul so swiftly. It was as if a black cloud had come to smother the sun.

Ash stared dully ahead at a medical chart he didn't care to decipher, barely aware of anything save the warmth of his team as they surrounded him.

Those that hadn't required urgent medical attention, that was.

His skin was hot, though unseared by the flames and cinders which had swirled so carelessly around the battlefield on the mountainside of Mt. Chimney but still stained with soot and the pungent scent of smoke. The Lavaridge doctor responsible for treating him was utterly befuddled by his overall lack of harm, before throwing her hands up and offering him a (mostly) clean bill of health with the exception of a few scratches and minor cuts.

A soft silvery blue cloth dabbed at his skin, carefully edging around the thin cut left by Aegislash. There was a thin bandage around it placed by the doctor, although the lack of Distortion left in a wound dealt by an Aegislash just caused the doctor more grief.

Ash didn't feel like explaining.

"Does that hurt?" Glacia's voice was gentle as she brushed away some of the soot and left his skin fresh and clear. Perhaps he was going mad, but a part of Ash felt the North Wind in her touch, woven into her intent. He did not pull away from the comfort.

"No."

Glacia hadn't left his side since she'd whisked him away from the ashen battlefield. A few Rangers and shaken League officials stepped in to whisper to her, and at one point a Kadabra had teleported in to speak with her, but they all hurried away shortly thereafter.

Whereas the doctor inspected Ash for damage, Glacia had done everything in her power to offer what little comfort and distraction she could. She was quiet—which Ash appreciated as his thoughts drifted far from the Lavaridge hospital room—but had steadfastly cleaned away the worst of the dirt and battle-grime clinging to him with fine silken cloths when they first arrived, uncaring of how many Ash ruined, and clasped his hand between her own whenever a shiver wracked his body.

Despite their own desires, most of his team had been whisked away for their own medical check-ups, even those who bore nothing more than superficial wounds. They would return shortly, but for now something about Glacia's compassionate gaze soothed him just as much as they would have.

Only Plume attended him now, unharmed as she was thanks to her vantage point in the sky. Mega Evolution had faded away and their unity had broken, leaving Ash all alone in his mind, but Plume stayed by his side so that the others might attend to their healing without regret.

The Ice Master worked swiftly and efficiently, and it wasn't long before Ash felt a fraction more human, even if he wished nothing more than to run, run, run from this place. To hop on Plume's back and ride the wind and escape to somewhere far away…

But he could not.

Duty bound him like adamantine chains.

He couldn't say how long they sat there in that sterile white hospital room. The smell of cleaning agents filled his nostrils. Faint whispers spilled in from outside. Plume huddled as close as she could without disturbing Glacia as the regal woman attended to Ash.

At some point an intimidated-looking young woman in a Lavaridge Gym uniform swept by, muttered something to Glacia that cooled the Ice Master's expression to absolute zero, and also handed Glacia over a small black hairbrush that looked as if it had been bought hastily at a corner store.

"Thank you. That will be all," Glacia said, and the Lavaridge attendant seemed perfectly happy to scuttle out of the room and far, far away from Glacia.

Ash looked up from his dirty hands for a moment to glance up at Glacia, whose frigid look thawed. "What was that?" His voice was raw, rough, hollow as if drained dry from Lotus' early days.

For a moment Ash thought Glacia wouldn't answer, but after a moment of his pleading look she relented. "Mr. Stone has begun the interrogations of the operatives arrested as accomplices to Jacqueline Durand."

"Aquas," Ash rasped. Every word demanded every ounce of his remaining strength. He was so, so tired… "I'm sure of it."

Glacia was silent as she tapped a cool finger against his hat, looking at him questioningly. Ash nodded after a moment, and Glacia took his treasured cap off and tossed it to Plume, who gracefully caught it on her head, although it was a little lopsided. Plume cooed softly at Ash.

With that obstacle (burnt and half-ruined as it was) removed, Glacia raised the hairbrush to Ash's head and ran it through his soot-stained and tangled locks. Ash tensed up for a moment, but the gentle pressure soon relaxed him enough to let his weary eyes rest, though he didn't fall into slumber.

But there was something rhythmic and calming about Glacia's gentle brushing, reminding him of old days in Pallet Town when his mother would take care of him when he was sick and feverish, and Ash's ragged breaths grew a touch easier.

"Evidence and previous data suggests they are Aquas," Glacia said quietly as the brushing helped Ash feel a little more human. "Jacqueline Durand was known to have a small team to support her in more complicated or large-scale missions, and given her affiliations…but enough of that. There will be time later. Rest."

But for all Ash wanted to cede to her authority, for all that he felt like a filthy rag wrung dry again and again and again until there was nothing left to give, he couldn't do as Glacia asked. Not truly.

With the return of his humanity came the return of thoughts.

And he had too many.

"Glacia?"

The Ice Master normally expected a proper address from Ash (although even she had grown a little lax in recent months compared to her usual self) but now she merely hummed back to him.

"Was this my fault?" Ash's voice was brittle as glass. He hated the weakness he heard there, the vulnerability. It reminded him of that boy crushed beneath the Muk in Mt. Moon. But his mind was restless now, and incessant what-ifs and could-have-beens gnawed at him relentlessly. What could he have done differently? How could he have truly won without so much horrific loss?

Glacia's hand froze.

"Did I force the battle?" Ash pressed, the words coming faster and faster. "If I hadn't been there, Durand could have run. If we hadn't tipped the scales, if we hadn't pierced her illusions, if we hadn't helped to trap her—"

"Enough," Glacia whispered, resuming her brushing. That brush was going to be absolutely filthy. Ash couldn't fight down the surreal sense of guilt he felt for that. "Do not dwell upon what was. You did your duty, as did—"

Glacia's breath hitched, and Ash looked up sharply to see crystalline tears filling Glacia's blue eyes.

"As did Fino."

"But things were going so well," Ash said miserably, clenching his fingers. Plume stepped forward to butt her head against his shoulder, earning a watery smile despite the lump in his throat, the panging in his chest, and the twisting of his guts. "They were talking. Durand was ready to—"

"I've seen the memories," Glacia interrupted, breaking one of the rules she was always so adamant in following. "Whatever peace might have been was broken by the death of Trainer Vito. Fino could not allow Durand to go scot-free after that. Not with League blood spilled."

"There was a chance, I think," Ash whispered as he sunk into those memories he'd rather never face again. "Fino wanted to regain control, maybe if we had stopped there…"

Glacia tipped his chin up so that he was forced to look her in the eyes. "Do you truly believe that? Don't let guilt and regret guide your tongue, Ash. Tell me what you think."

Ash couldn't look away. Plume's heavy beak butted against his head. He wanted to draw on Ice to hide away, to encrust the gaping pit in him with unfeeling cold, but held back.

That was the last thing Fino would have wanted.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I think…," he began, choking for a moment before regathering himself. "When that trainer—Brodie," Ash hissed, remembering the scum's name, his voice filled with wrath, "when he attacked and the Lavaridge Trainers and a few of the Aquas joined in, things went south."

Glacia ran the brush through his hair again. It was a little less tangled than before. "The Aquas are not known for their discipline."

"I felt Durand make up her mind," Ash said, hoping desperately to inject every scrap of certainty into that word. He and Durand had a connection, and it was that connection which filled him with dread when the forest burned and the blood spilled. "I knew when she decided to fight her way out. It's just…I wish we had left her a way out."

"If the impossibility of escape was enough to set Durand to murder, then her ending was set in stone to be an unhappy one," Glacia said fiercely. Her intensity veiled a core of grief. "I am not so simpleminded as to see the world in black and white, Ash. We are all driven by our origins, our experience, our tragedies and triumphs. You've told me of her. Jacqueline Durand is no pure monster, though it would be easier if she were, but she was a murderer and a terrorist. Devon and LaRousse can attest to that much. She was doomed to be captured or destroyed, and her nature was to leave a river of blood behind her."

"She might have surrendered when she realized everything was lost," Ash mumbled. "But the Hunters…"

Glacia sighed as she put the finishing touches on Ash's hair, although he hoped she wouldn't stop soon. That little bit of comfort was the thread he was hanging on. It was the tightrope above the yawning abyss.

Ash refused to think of what lay within it.

"I am grateful to the Lumiose League for their aid these past few months," Glacia said carefully, every word picked with the utmost precision. "The Hunters have been an invaluable asset during our most tumultuous times. Yet I fear their presence did not help today."

"In the end they did," Ash said, squeezing his eyes shut. "But maybe Durand would have listened."

"Perhaps," Glacia hedged. "Were you to be whisked away to dawn today, perhaps many things might change. But perfection is impossible, dear. Take it from someone who has foolishly striven for it for too many years."

Glacia was quiet for a moment as she strode over to the hospital room's sink and washed the ash and muck and battle-grime off the hairbrush's prongs, then returned to Ash's side to start anew. Plume bucked his hat a little bit so she could watch clearly, though she'd shriven the soot from her feathers long ago.

"Hindsight is a dangerous perspective. Learn from your experiences, but do not be consumed by them," Glacia warned. "But know this, Ash: all of Ever Grande stands behind you. I stand behind you. You have shown us the truth of your character again and again these past few months, and I know you would never give anything less than your best."

Ash looked away, shame building in his chest. His 'best' hadn't been good enough. Not even close. His team gave all they had, and they received nothing but death and an empty title for it.

He had failed Fino. And as much as the mere thought of Durand left him furious, a swirl of cinders spinning inside a scraped raw void, Ash knew he had failed her too.

Glacia took his hands in her own.

"If you care to know what I believe," Glacia added gently, forcing his attention back on her, "I believe that when that trainer attacked, battle was inevitable. And I am glad that Fino had Ash Ketchum standing at his side when the lines were crossed."

Plume shrieked her agreement, drawing a wince from Glacia, but Ash just stared down at the Ice Master's hands.

His eyes grew hot and watery. His shoulders trembled.

But as much as he wanted to give in, there was something he couldn't ignore. Something more important than his own abyss.

"I need to tell Flannery!" Ash jolted upright, startling Plume, who squawked as Ash's hat nearly fell off her regal head, but Glacia gently pressed him back down onto the hospital bed. "No, no. I need to—"

"You need to rest," Glacia said, adamant as a hint of her stern nature reasserted itself. Once Ash stilled, though, she softened once more. Her face grew frosty with grief and she shut her eyes before taking a deep breath. "Champion Wallace and Fino's team have gone to speak with her. Mr. Stone will join them once he has finished gathering intelligence from the prisoners."

Everything in Ash demanded that he leap out of the hospital bed, tear his way through anyone daring enough to keep him here—Plume and Lotus might be the only teammates he had, but he knew damn well that they were more than enough!—but one look at Glacia froze him in his tracks.

"That is their duty, Ash, not yours. Give the poor girl some time, please. This…this will not be easy for her."

That just made Ash want to hurry to Flannery's side even faster, stirring the storm of emotion scraping him empty, but something in Glacia's expression arrested him, and his heaving breaths slowed.

Ash was just so, so tired.

"Hush, dear," Glacia said, doing her utmost to soothe whatever pain she saw in him. "Just rest. I will be here as long as you wish me to be. Tend to yourself now. We shall attend to Flannery, I promise."

Ash hesitated, but finally relented at Glacia's continued urging.

He laid his head down, clutched Lotus' Pokéball, and squeezed his eyes shut even as the comforting weight of Plume's warm head laid itself upon his chest.

And for once, Ash eagerly embraced the oblivion of sleep.

XX

Hours later, Ash crept through the dark halls of the Lavaridge Gym. Dusk had fallen some time ago and the ordinary staff were nowhere to be seen. Any of the Gym Trainers who made their home here were either on duty elsewhere or mourning.

His gut twisted at that thought, and the vision of Fino—cool, silent, still, and all the things the warm old man had never been in life—strewn on the mountainside flickered before his eyes.

Ash wanted to howl, but he couldn't. Not now.

Glacia had left at last at Ash's urging, though he knew she would have stayed at his bedside all night had he desired. She had better things to do than to watch over him, Ash knew, and he wouldn't let a trainer like her be wasted on guard duty.

It had taken all he had to find his way to the Lavaridge Gym instead of the crypt beneath Forina where Jirachi lay waiting in its amethyst chrysalis.

But that was a fruitless dream, Ash knew down to his very bones, and he was even more certain that if he went right now that he'd just become yet another skeleton trapped forever by Desire. Stuck for an eternity grasping for what they could never have.

"Shh," Ash warned Lairon as they snuck through the shadowed Gym. It was strange to witness a place which was ordinarily so lively and vibrant, full of raucous cries from the battlefield and training grounds and the chatter of challengers and Gym Trainers alike, left empty and desolate.

The Gym felt eerily like a tomb. That thought alone sank his mood.

A gentle scraping and the plod of Lairon's heavy feet upon the rich wooden floors made Ash wince, distracting him, and he looked doubtfully down at his friend. Lairon had escaped the battle more-or-less unscathed aside from a few dents, bruises, and a minor concussion.

Lairon was made of the sternest stuff.

Quite a few of Ash's team were being held overnight—and their absence made Ash itch, he ached to embrace them, to feel their warmth and the bond they shared surge to life and fill the hole in his chest—but Lairon had been released in time for him to assist Ash here. Dazed would be released in the morning, thankfully.

"Should I hold the plate instead?" Ash asked, peering down at the plate wobbling between Lairon's teeth…and scraped raw by Lairon's rasping tongue. Ceramic didn't hold up well to something designed to tear apart steel. "That looks like a lot of temptation."

Lairon fervently shook his head and whined, doing his best to reassure Ash that he could be trusted with the most important part of this whole affair.

"Okay," Ash said tiredly. "But we don't want to wake anyone up. Can you levitate?"

His friend nodded quickly and immediately rose a few inches off the ground, skating forward with impressive speed now that he didn't have to worry about the clunk of his heavy footsteps. It turned out that sneaking was a little difficult when you were around five hundred pounds of metal, muscle, and bone.

Imagine that.

They were quite familiar with the interior of the Lavaridge Gym and soon found their way to their destination. Ash's hands shook and his legs felt weak as they found themselves outside of Flannery's room.

No light spilled from beneath the door and not a hint of sound escaped. Ash hesitated, wondering if she was even here, but decided it didn't matter.

"Go ahead," Ash whispered, ushering Lairon forward, and the steel-type quietly settled down to the floor with surprising grace and placed the small plate of Lava Cookies from Flannery's favorite bakery down. They'd been a nightmare to acquire.

Ash had only managed to escape the hospital after night had already fallen, and the old woman manning the desk hadn't been pleased to see him wander in so late. She'd nearly shooed him out with a broom.

It had only been after a minute of literal pleading and (finally) an explanation of what he needed them for that the old woman softened. News of the horrible day had spread, and Ash couldn't thank her enough when she proved willing to spend a few minutes past her shift making everything as perfect as possible.

"Mr. Moore is—was—such a sweet man, and his fiery little granddaughter is no different. Poor dear must be heartbroken…aye, I'll help you," the old woman had sniffled. "It's sweet of you to look out for her."

Those words had been like a knife twisted in his gut, but he had offered the baker a grateful (but painfully stiff) nod, and thanked her before hurrying to the Gym. There was technically nothing keeping him in the hospital, but he knew Steven might be upset if he visited only to find an empty room.

…it wasn't Ash's fault they put him in a room by a window. Plume had taken all of three seconds to carry him down to the street, even if he'd acquired a few odd looks in the process.

"Thanks, buddy," Ash whispered as he nudged the plate of Lava Cookies in front of Flannery's door, placing his hand upon the plate and calling upon Fire to warm it. Lairon licked at Ash's hand in response. He barely noticed the pain.

Before he could slip away, however, Lairon grunted softly and whined at Ash, earning a furrowed brow. It was only when Lairon mimed chewing on something that realization settled upon Ash's tired face.

"Sure," Ash said, reaching into his pack and pulling out one of the metal ingots he kept on hand for Lairon. The steel-type expertly tugged it away from Ash's fingers with his magnetic manipulation, spinning it swiftly and efficiently so that it laid comfortably beside the crisp cookies. The earnestness in Lairon's baby blue eyes made Ash's heart ache. "That's very sweet of you, Lairon."

Ash straightened, made sure that the plate wouldn't be disrupted by the door if it swung open, and rapped quickly three times before moving to bolt—

The door creaked open.

Ash's heart skipped a beat and his blood froze in his veins. Dread, worry, and a dozen other tumultuous feelings squeezed him like a vice and he thought to run away, to flee, to stay, to hide, to help.

The end result was that Ash was frozen as Flannery's bedraggled head poked out from her room, but all the fear fled in the face of just wanting to give her a hug.

She looked awful.

Flannery's bright red hair seemed dark and dull in the shadows, almost maroon, and the life and luster which always blazed forth from her red-rimmed eyes was nowhere to be found, extinguished utterly with grief. Her cheeks and eyes were puffy, a little snot ran out from her nose (although she was quick to wipe it away with a soaked scrap of cloth), and she had the look of someone whose entire world had come crashing down.

She was wrapped in a massive crimson blanket with the Heat Badge's symbol emblazoned upon it and clutched a tiny Typhlosion plushie as though it were the most precious thing in the world. Fino had given it to her when she was just a little girl, Ash remembered.

His friend looked so terribly small.

"Ash?" Flannery croaked. If Ash felt like a towel wrung dry, then Flannery seemed like one twisted and squeezed until the threads came undone. She stared at him with her hollow gaze, and Ash caught sight of her team crowding behind her. They were all silent.

The lump in his throat almost kept him from speaking, but Lairon's light nudge forced him into action.

"I, uh, brought you Lava Cookies," Ash rasped out, half-stammering, rocking back and forth on his heels. How stupid he must sound! Why would she want snacks right now? She was—

Flannery picked the warmed plate up. Every movement was excruciatingly slow and sluggish. She examined them in the half-light of the Gym, sniffed, and recognition flashed in those empty eyes. "These are Ms. Viviana's."

Her nose wrinkled in confusion as she spied the heavy metal ingot placed at the plate's side. "...Huh?"

Lairon rubbed his head up against her leg before levitating the ingot up so that Flannery could see it.

Ash cleared his throat. "Uh, Lairon wanted you to have it."

The steel-type wagged his nub of a tail proudly and warbled up at Flannery before licking curiously at her blanket.

"That's really nice of you, Lairon," Flannery sniffled, clutching the plate of Lava Cookies tighter. "Nice of both of you. Thanks."

Ash shifted uneasily, unsure of what to—

"Can you stay here for a bit?" Flannery whispered. Her eyes were dry, but Ash suspected that was only because she'd run out of tears hours ago. The hand clutching the plate wavered, and Ash was quick to take it from her. She stared down at the warm Lava Cookies. "I can't eat all these by myself."

"Yeah," Ash said simply, and followed her into her room. Flannery's team walked with her, offering quiet greetings to Ash before their trainer collapsed into a vast heap of blankets, plushies, and exhaustion. Brick laid his head down beside her, and Ash could feel the sorrow from much of her team at being unable to touch their trainer properly without burning her.

He gingerly took a seat on her bed, pretending not to notice the heap of damp tissues littered all over the place or the remains of a soft pillow that had been utterly savaged and torn to shreds. Its fluffy white guts littered the floor.

Scrap books, pictures, news articles, instructional videos from the Lavaridge Gym…anything with Fino's smiling face was collected on the bed as well as a sort of shrine, and Ash was careful beyond belief to disturb so much as a single photograph.

Even the glimpse of the Fire Master's kindness was enough to leave that ugly knot in his throat growing.

Ash settled once he found a spot by Flannery that wasn't liable to disturb her or any of Fino's mementos, but stiffened as Flannery leaned into him and clutched him in a death grip of a hug, squeezing him like a vice as if Ash would drift away if she let go.

"Ash?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to battle right now."

His throat clenched tighter. "Me either."

Her grip tightened, growing desperate.

Ash squeezed back.

"I'm here as long as you want me," Ash promised, echoing Glacia's earlier words. "I'm not going anywhere."

And that was a promise he kept.

Words between them were scant, but that was fine.

Their company was enough.

XX

Friend-Trainer. We have a visitor.

"Dazed?" Ash muttered, yawning before memories rushed into his skull like an undammed river. Whatever good mood the morning offered was quickly extinguished. ""Huh?"

She rested her yellow hand upon his exposed forearm, watching him with concern.

You are not well.

"How did you get here?" Ash said, not unhappily. He leaned into her touch. Dazed hadn't been too badly injured, but she'd been taken to have her wounds examined regardless. Psychics and Distortion just didn't mix well.

I was dismissed in the early hours. I saw fit to seek you out and stand vigil. You are not difficult to find, Friend-Trainer.

Given that psychics for miles around tended to froth at the mouth when he popped by, Ash supposed that tracked.

"I'm glad you're okay," Ash said, blinking in surprise as Dazed telekinetically placed quite a few Pokéballs on his lap. He traced his fingers over them, relishing the presence of his friends. "Thanks for bringing them. Who's coming?"

Dazed barely had time to send a telepathic response before a loud (but not obnoxious) knock struck the door. He let them know it was fine to come in, then stared as two familiar figures strode into his room in the Lavaridge Gym.

Steven was first, his face frozen and still as if carved from marble. His slate eyes were cold as granite. Every movement was purposeful, though stiff, and there was a certain danger to him that wasn't a part of the Steven that Ash knew; a terrible force unleashed.

Metagross lurked in the hallway, bloody eyes practically aglow as they settled upon Ash and Dazed, but Ash knew that they were in the room with him right now. No doubt Metagross had led Steven right to Ash, although odds were that the League was keeping eyes on him regardless.

"Ash," Steven—Stevagross— said evenly. But for all that he and Metagross tried to maintain tight control, Ash could feel the storm beneath. They could sequester it behind walls of stone and steel but nothing could hide the pain he felt there. "We have much to speak about."

But Ash only had eyes for the tall man beside him.

"Lance," Ash breathed. He shot a dirty look at Dazed for not warning him. She simply shrugged, eyes turning up into the faintest of smiles before telepathically gesturing for him to continue. "I…what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in Kalos?"

He felt pathetic sitting up in bed staring at Lance the Dragon Master, who stood above like a giant with his mantle hanging around his shoulders. Shame filled him.

Lance wouldn't have failed.

But the sad smile and the warmth of Lance's quick embrace stopped those thoughts in their tracks. Lance didn't ask him how he felt, thankfully, and Ash appreciated that. Lance already knew.

"The situation changed," Lance said, serious in a way he rarely was. "I asked Koga to handle things in my absence."

"But Zinnia—"

Lance hesitated, but knelt down by Ash's bedside. "The investigation is in fine hands, I promise. Koga is better than me at this sort of cloak and dagger work anyways. Listen to me, Ash: you are my highest priority. Koga can attend to Indigo's affairs in Lumiose. But I'd rather see you safe than chase vengeance."

That lump in his throat was back. Ash choked out something indecipherable, but Lance smiled wearily down at him. It was all that Ash needed, and he wiped inconspicuously at his eyes before Steven stepped forward.

Or the thing wearing his skin like a suit, at least.

Steven's eyes were flat. "We have examined the site of the battle and cross-examined both the memories and accounts of the Lavaridge Gym Trainers present, their teammates, and the Aqua trainers responsible for supporting—

"So they really were Aquas," Ash said quietly. Part of him had hoped against hope that it wasn't the case, but that optimism had been squished flat. He felt a pit of dread form, well-aware that this wouldn't end well.

There was no coming back from this.

The cracks would deepen. The fires of conflict would fan higher.

And for what?

"Indeed. We would appreciate it if you didn't interrupt us further, Ash," Metagross said with Steven's tongue. Ash stiffened.

"Steven…" Lance trailed off warningly.

"As we were saying," Stevagross said crisply. Those red eyes bored holes into Ash. That brittle mask remained, but even Metagross' chassis wasn't thick enough to hide its own sorrow. "We have reviewed all aspects of the battle. We have drawn tentative conclusions, but will require your testimony in order to corroborate."

"Is this really the time?" Lance asked tightly, rising to stand by Ash. Dazed's eyes flashed.

"Now is the only time!" Steven and Metagross said flatly. Both sets of eyes twitched. There was no trace of Steven's normal fumbling or the spark of his passion behind his slate eyes, only calculating logic and brutal pragmatism. Heat spilled forth. "We will see justice done! Fino must be avenged."

"Justice has been done," Lance said, still calm despite the displeasure plain as day behind his words. The Dragon Master's presence seemed to grow great and terrible to fill the room, spreading its wings and ready to spit dragonfire. "Durand is…Steven, this really isn't the time."

"Jacqueline Durand was the instrument of Fino's death, but not the architect," Steven said. Ash flinched and the air grew hot as Lance's temper flared. "We have no interest in taking vengeance on a shattered knife. Not when the hand which wielded it is still free."

Steven turned his eyes upon Ash before Lance could reply.

"There was a trainer named Brodie present. According to various eyewitnesses' accounts and cross-referenced memories, his actions sabotaged initial negotiations between Fino and Durand."

Hatred filled Ash's gut, settling in the depths of his stomach like acid. "I'm pretty sure he had a Ditto," Ash spat. "His Shiftry was a perfect replica of Durand's, and it used a similar technique to pierce psychic barriers. I—well, Plume—saw him whispering something to it just before it attacked."

Steven nodded. "Indeed," he said, sharing a quick look with Lance. "Based on testimonies and available evidence, we suspect this trainer was a plant within Aqua, likely placed on behalf of Magma. Whether they are direct benefactors or not remains to be seen."

"You sound pretty sure of that. How could—"

"Infiltrating Aqua is no feat," Steven said dismissively. "The League already has seventeen undercover agents gathering intel. Grassroots organizations are porous. Aqua possesses strength and drive but little discipline."

Steven waved off Ash before he could ask any more questions. "Combatants on both sides verify that Brodie struck seemingly at random during negotiations, and that he acted to destabilize peace talks and to destroy the information Durand planned to trade."

Ash balled his fists up. "Yes," he said quietly, having almost forgotten why Durand and her elite team of Aquas had been roaming Mt. Chimney in the first place. "We lost it. His Ditto destroyed it with Bullet Seed."

Bullet Seed. Ash would never be able to see that damn technique in the same light. Not after it had torn lives apart—Vito, Fino, and so many others.

Cruel satisfaction flickered in Stevagross' expression. "False."

Ash blinked. "What?"

"Whatever was in that device was destroyed," Lance explained, "but the Aquas knew the coordinates of their target. Steven and Drake went and tore it apart shortly after the…battle."

"Did you get them?" Ash almost leapt out of bed, praying desperately that something good had come out of this mess. "The Magmas?"

Lance trailed off, unwilling to go into more detail, but Stevagross had no such compunctions.

"To a point. Their outpost was well-fortified and hidden well, only a few hundred feet away from the battlefield. We suspect that this 'Brodie' alerted them to the incoming raid when he fled the battle. They were in the process of wiping servers and evacuating the facility when we arrived," Steven said simply. Ash's hope fled. "Their bunker was engineered well. They anticipated that six feet of reinforced concrete and steel would slow us down."

Dangerous amusement filled Steven's flat grey eyes.

"They anticipated incorrectly."

"Ever Grande didn't get everything it wanted," Lance cautioned Ash. "But they salvaged several of the bunker's personnel and a few intact servers and databases. It's a start. Some of the information is…troubling."

"Troubling?"

Stevagross made to speak, but Lance cut him off.

"Later," Lance said. "This isn't the time. We're still putting the pieces together. You don't need to worry about it right now."

"We have enough," Stevagross said simply. "The situation with Aqua will provide an unfortunate distraction, but we shall resume our search. We will find the head of Magma, extract all useful information from his brain, and then perhaps hand them over to the Trench. We have several suggestions for the Warden to enrich their stay."

Ash and Dazed shivered at the mention of the eerie Warden who stewarded Ever Grande's secret prison, but Lance's eyes narrowed.

"We shall examine your memories now," Steven's voice remained cold. "You may still have valuable—"

Lance stepped forward with deceptive calm, strode easily past Steven, and slammed the door in Metagross' face, blocking the burning red eyes and imposing metallic mass from Ash's view. That had no effect on Steven's connection with the psychic, but Lance was quick to move to Steven and grasp him by the shoulder.

"We don't need Metagross right now," Lance impressed upon Steven, staring down at him with all the intensity of a legendary Drake. His features seemed sharper than ever. "We need Steven, you hear me? I need my friend."

A complicated storm of feelings flickered across Steven's face in an instant, and then Ash felt the change. He almost collapsed back in the bed as the brittle armor was shorn away in the blink of an eye and Steven Stone returned, broken and human.

Steven was stiff before, almost robotic, but there was a power to him. He stood tall and with terrifying confidence, a cold rejection of humanity acting as his blade and shield alike against the world's troubles.

But Steven changed before Ash's eyes.

His shoulders drooped. His eyes turned downward and lost their edge. His frame weakened.

Steven aged a hundred years in an instant.

"You have me," Steven croaked. He turned his haunted eyes upon Ash. "I'm so sorry."

"Me too."

"Fino's…funeral is tomorrow," Steven just barely managed to state between clenched teeth. "It is scheduled for eleven o' clock. You're invited. I don't know if you've spoken to Flannery yet, but I know she would like you to be present."

Ash's eyes squeezed shut. "I'll be there."

As will we.

Steven nodded at Ash and Dazed, but looked so miserable that Ash wondered if he'd even remember this conversation without Metagross here to catalogue it.

"While further questions can wait," Lance said, shooting a wary glance at Steven, "there is one other matter we need to speak with you about."

They shared a look, then Steven nodded after a moment's hesitation.

Lance clasped his hands behind his back.

Ash froze.

"After the funeral, I am recalling you to Indigo."

"Okay."

"It will be for the duration of the Silver Conference at minimum, but you will be allowed to return after—"

"Okay."

Lance's dark pink eyebrows rose even as his jaw nearly dropped when Ash's words finally caught up with him. "Okay?"

"Yeah."

"We'll be willing to let you return once things have settled—" Steven said, but Ash cut him off.

"I want to go home," Ash said, feeling like a wire stretched too taut. Dazed's mind brushed his own, entwining and carrying with it a sense of warmth and love that Ash desperately craved now. "I'm…I'm exhausted, Steven. I feel like I'm about to snap. And I know this isn't over, but I need to go home for a while."

Lance nodded fiercely, relief evident in his bearing. "Then it's settled."

But even as Ash accepted that retreat, a promise filled his mind.

A promise he had just broken.

"Flannery!"

"I've already spoken with her," Steven said wearily. "She knows."

"No!" Ash thundered, rising up with energy he didn't know he had. "No, I can't go. I promised her! I said I'd stay in Lavaridge. I'm going to protect it no matter what. I promised."

Steven stared almost blankly at Ash.

Lance understood, though.

"Wallace has already decided that Flannery will not be acting as Gym Leader for the foreseeable future," Lance said gently. The Feather blazed on his wrist, a font of golden flame. "She will retain her position, but she is on a leave of absence until after the Ever Grande Conference. At minimum."

"Then I need to be here!" Ash snarled, even as he bit back relief at the thought of Flannery having time to heal instead of being tossed back into the crucible. "If Flannery's gone, then Lavaridge—"

"Lavaridge is in good hands," Lance interrupted, raising a hand to forestall Ash's judgment. "Sinnoh has been generous enough to loan Flint for Lavaridge operations, and there are several Gym Trainers who have worked with Fino for decades who will coordinate the Gym's day-to-day activities."

"Leader Kabu of Galar has come to offer his services as well," Steven muttered. "I suppose he hasn't forgotten his roots."

Lance nodded, then gestured to Steven. "Ever Grande members will rotate through as well. Steven's base of operations will temporarily be through Lavaridge. Believe me, Ash, Lavaridge might as well be the new Ever Grande City. No harm will come to it."

The conviction in Lance's words stilled Ash in his tracks, but doubt still gnawed at him.

"I still made a promise," Ash said. He swallowed and Dazed's mental support was all that kept him focused. "I need to talk to Flannery."

Lance and Steven exchanged a look.

"Wallace and I spoke to her earlier this morning," Steven said tiredly. "She knows the situation, but she's with her parents right now. Perhaps you can speak with her later."

Ash wished he'd known last night when he visited her…but then, they'd barely spoken a word that whole time. He didn't think either of them were in any condition for that conversation then, and perhaps not even now.

"Give her some time," Lance said, crouching down so that he and Ash were on eye level again. "She has a lot weighing on her mind right now. Let's let her process a little before adding anything else, okay?"

He nodded tightly, though it felt wrong to even discuss leaving Hoenn—running away, a part of him whispered—with that hanging over his head. No, he would have to speak with her before he left.

So long as Flannery was willing. Even with Lance's words echoing in his mind, Ash felt a terrible stab of guilt. How cowardly was he to consider running?

Dazed's fingers clasped his own hand and squeezed tightly, almost painfully. Then a telekinetic force flicked Ash in the back of the head.

"Ow!"

Lance blinked.

Apologies, Champion-Mentor. My companion was thinking very stupid thoughts.

Steven was utterly befuddled, but Lance just offered Ash a sad smile.

"Those like to sneak in during times like these," Lance said. "It's all too easy for them to take root."

Dazed's eyes flashed.

Not while I am here.

Silence for a moment.

"There are many other matters we must attend to," Steven said, squeezing his eyes shut. "Ash…I am so glad that you and your team emerged safely. I feared the worst. And I am so, so sorry for my earlier behavior. It was…unwise, and you should never have borne the brunt of it."

"I'm sorry too, Steven. For everything."

Steven's jaw clenched and for a moment Ash feared that those simple words would bring the teetering man collapsing down, but Lance was quick to lean over and whisper a few words to Steven that seemed to keep the former Champion intact, breathing heavily but with a semblance of composure.

"While there is much to do, I'd like to catch up later, okay? We should be done within a few hours. Early afternoon at the latest. Do you want to grab lunch later?"

"...That'll be good," Ash said quietly, peering down at the loose row of Pokéballs which littered his bed. "I need to catch up with my team first."

Lance nodded in understanding. "I'll be in touch, Ash. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything, understand?"

Ash looked up gratefully, said his farewells, and then found himself all alone with Dazed, although it wasn't long before nearly his entire team was arrayed around him. Some had been hurt, but they'd all avoided major wounds by some miracle.

Not like—

Slaking's fist closed with a squelch.

Ash's eyes squeezed shut.

"Come here," Ash murmured, and it wasn't long before he was buried beneath a pile of fur and wings and vines. Seeker's eyes locked upon him hungrily, her large body so different yet so familiar to the little Zubat he'd known for over a year now, and she swiveled about to look at the entire team.

They all greeted her with nods, smiles, or grunts of affirmation. Seeker was greedy in her inspections, soaking up every detail of the visual world she could, and her gaze lingered on every teammate as she came to know them in a new way.

She flung herself at Bruiser, who wept fat tears as one of his hands reached up to gently stroke Seeker's blue back, a testament to the relentless control training he'd thrown himself into these past months. He plucked off the knit white cap on his head and plopped it onto hers, much to Seeker's delight.

To Torrent, Nidoking, and Dazed she offered a quick dip of her body as an acknowledgement of the respect they commanded but was soon snagged by a few of Tangrowth's blue-green vines which happily ensnared her in a crushing hug that would've had Ash concerned if she were still a delicate little Zubat.

But Seeker chattered to Tangrowth, who had been rather droopy up until he caught sight of her, and wrapped her great wings around him in a hug of her own.

Tangrowth's eyes squeezed shut as he enjoyed the embrace.

And so her greetings went—Oz knelt down and grinned at her, little arcs of lightning crackling within her shaggy coat, and opened her arms for a hug. Seeker looked doubtfully at her.

At last she arrived at Weavile, who was currently doing his utmost to merge into Ash's body. His long arms were looped around Ash's neck and his face was curled into Ash's shoulder, squeezing him tight, but the proud dark-type raised his head as Seeker fluttered to Ash's side.

The new Golbat peered at Weavile silently, taking in every aspect of the little dark-type who had once tormented her with endless pranks and pursuits…until Bruiser had thoroughly dissuaded him of such notions, that was.

Weavile's eyes were slits as he peered back, but there was no hostility in them.

Seeker seemed to half-glare at him for a moment as her wings spread wide, but ultimately she relaxed and raised a wing to Weavile, offering up the hooked end which would allow her to easily cling to hard cavern walls.

Weavile stared at it, dumbfounded for a moment. But then he snickered, raised one of his razor-sharp claws in turn, and tapped it against the little curved thumb. There was a light clang as both pokémon met each other's eyes with a swift nod, and then their old grudge was settled.

The pit inside Ash was a little more full now, though it still had a long way to go.

"Can you sit with me?" Ash asked quietly, glancing around the Lavaridge Gym room. Seeker was quick to hop onto his legs and settle down, although it wasn't quite as easy for her to find a comfortable spot with her new body. He grunted as the great weight of a Golbat plunked down but Ash wouldn't trade this for the world. "Thank you."

There were no more words said.

Just Ash, his team, and a desperate need to not be alone.

It was enough.

XX

The late morning sun kissed Lavaridge's main square, the beating heart of the town. Mt. Chimney blotted out much of the light that would otherwise bathe Hoenn, but at this hour the sun's eye blazed brightly above, casting them all in warmth and radiance.

Not a cloud was to be seen in the late morning sky, though a calm breeze brushed over the skin of all those who had come to pay their respects to Fino Moore.

A low murmur filled the entire town, a restlessness that left Ash itching and anxious, as thousands chattered uneasily to one another. Legions of well-wishers and mourners had gathered in Lavaridge on short notice, all somber-faced and weary of the toll this year had taken upon them.

Mt. Chimney's outpouring of smoke touched their nostrils and itched their eyes, but not a soul betrayed their discomfort. Not with an entirely different dark cloud lingering above them all.

Ash could feel the tide of emotion broiling beneath the crowd's surface. While many of the mourners had gathered in the square, the League and Fino's family members had been gathered up onto a large platform erected towards one end of the Lavaridge town center.

He looked down with damp eyes at the thousands upon thousands of grieving citizens and those who had come to pay their respects—Lavaridge was a small, bustling town, but he had never seen it like this.

It wasn't just the town square that was filled to the brim with people and pokémon alike, but all of Lavaridge. Alleys and streets were crammed full as far as Ash could see, a heaving tide of humanity that left him dizzy just thinking about it, and the weight of the collective grief was like a vice around his heart.

Old and young. Rich and poor. Strong and weak.

All were here.

Dozens of trainers flew above in lazy circles, unwilling to fight for a space in the main crowd. Some were League trainers present for security—Winona and a few of her Gym Trainers were easily identifiable in their bright flight gear—but many were simply normal people and wild pokémon wishing to bid farewell to a man who had made such a vast impact on the world.

Every now and then Ash thought he recognized a trainer he had faced during the Fortree Challenge, but for once no one was concerned with him. There were no whispers, no pointing. Ash Ketchum was forgotten at this moment, just as he should be.

The platform was truly vast, designed to support enormous numbers of humans and pokémon for public events, but the weight upon it now pushed the dias to its limits: countless League officials and their teammates, family, and friends of Fino all rested there with wet eyes and runny noses.

Essentially all of the Ever Grande League was present—Ash worried for a moment of Magma taking advantage of their concentration here, but was certain Wallace would have ensured proper security for today—and many looked utterly broken. Fino had been a mentor, an example, and a confidante to all those sworn to Ever Grande's service.

Wallace was nearest to Fino and Plinia's caskets, mirrored by a silent Flannery on the other side alongside her parents, dabbing at his eyes occasionally with a turquoise-lined handkerchief the same color as the Champion's mantle, but otherwise kept his composure. It was only in the set of his jaw and the uncharacteristic quivering of his hands that revealed the rainfall within.

The Elite Four were beside their Champion, lined up solemnly as they bade farewell to one of their former members. Sidney and Phoebe were dressed up far better than Ash had ever seen them—Sidney's mouth was a flat line, his little shock of purple hair had been brushed, and none of his usual amusement was anywhere to be seen.

Phoebe was serene, her tanned face a mask, and she had worn traditional garments associated with the gravetenders of Mt. Pyre. She whispered under her breath, though Ash wasn't sure if it was to Sidney, Fino himself, or if the words were simply blessings and rites. Her Dusknoir hung silently at her side.

Glacia's expression lived up to her name, but anyone with eyes could see her pain. Her Froslass gently brushed the Ice Master's gloved hand with a soft touch, and Ash wished that he could offer her words of comfort just as she'd aided him.

And Drake…to be honest, Drake surprised Ash most of all.

Every time Ash had seen the legendary Dragon Master—be it his Champion coronation, Steven and Wallace's claiming of the mantle, press conferences, charity events, battles in the Last War, or the Ever Grande Conference—he had worn his normal outfit: a ratty old captain's hat that had no doubt seen more storms than Ash had seen days, 'well-loved' blue trousers, heavy boots, and the long coat that Drake was so famous for.

All of those were still there. Ash doubted anything could convince Drake to part with the outfit he'd practically become synonymous with for the last thirty years or so.

But he was wearing a shirt. It wasn't a particularly nice shirt (just a simple linen one that looked more suited to a sunny beach than a funeral) but it was a shirt nonetheless.

Drake looked supremely uncomfortable in it. Ash couldn't count the number of times he'd looked over to see the Dragon Master tugging at the loose collar.

The rest of the Ever Grande Gym Leaders hovered behind the Elite Four with their heads bowed, and Ash caught sight of tall, musclebound Morma standing not far from her old master, although she wasn't sworn to the League.

Ash stood over on the far end with miscellaneous League representatives: Lance was present, of course, with a shaken Steven at his side, and Karen stood just a few spots down from Ash. She'd brought a suit down from Indigo Plateau that she'd bought for him at some point.

It was only thanks to Karen's eye for aesthetics that Ash didn't look utterly ridiculous in it. She'd helped him with the tie too.

Every Indigo and Lily of the Valley Gym Leader and Elite Four member that could be spared was here—Blaine was conspicuously absent—and Ash felt his heart crack a little more as he caught sight of Pryce staring blankly at Fino's casket, a whirlwind of feeling etched into his old face.

They had fought together, Ash remembered. They'd survived the horrors and tribulations of the Last War…and now this was how it ended.

Sour self-flagellating thoughts rose to mind, but Dazed nudged him.

He calmed his breathing.

Cynthia was near Lance as well, her bearing uncharacteristically sober, accompanied by stony Byron, old Bertha, and Flint.

Even former Champion Uther, far into his well-earned retirement, came to pay his respects. The ancient man seemed barely aware of his surroundings, but some glimmer of recognition sparked to life behind his milky eyes as he rested in his wheelchair.

Professor Oak and his mother were permitted to stand with Ash, clustering in close, and their presence eased the storm whirling within his mind. His mom held one of his hands, a constant reassurance, and it was only thanks to her, Dazed, and the rest of his family that he felt he could breathe at all.

But while the small army here to remember Fino was primarily composed of National League members, Fino's influence had stretched much farther than a mere four regions.

Famous faces and foreign dignitaries filled another raised platform adjacent to the primary one. Fino had been Ever Grande's most skilled and famed diplomat, one of those few responsible for stitching the world together once again after the Last War had nearly torn it asunder, and much of the peace and friendship still enjoyed by the various Leagues and regions for the last thirty years could be attributed to the efforts of Fino Moore and the other peacebuilders.

They sought to forge a new world without war…and they had succeeded.

Unova and Kalos were the most well-represented.

While quite a few current members of their reigning Leagues were present, Ash recognized quite a few famed diplomats, former officials, and all manner of wizened trainers here to bid farewell. It was surreal to see them outside one of the textbooks he enjoyed reading with Dazed in their downtime.

They were so old, far removed from the power and vigor that radiated off those old photographs and videos.

Despite his gloomy mood, Ash couldn't help but rake his eyes across the foreign dignitaries, most of whom he was quite familiar with…albeit mostly due to the countless battles he'd watched.

Champion Alder stood erect, his eyes misty as he paid homage with a dark-skinned old man that Ash recognized as Cyrano, the Director of Unova's Blueberry Academy. Fino had spoken fondly of them both in many of his favored stories.

Cyrano and Alder had both been leaders of the Unovan resistance during the Last War, and although Alder had taken the reins as Champion it was said that Cyrano had been a monstrously powerful trainer in his own right. Perhaps even Alder's equal.

Clavell, Director of a Paldean academy that Ash had heard of, stood with them.

A hulking mountain of a man towered beside them with his arms folded, dressed cleanly in a white suit. He stood a head taller than Alder or Cyrano. Although his thick beard (which was perhaps a match for Drake's mustache) and hair had grown white with age and faint lines cracked his face, Leader Drayden was no less formidable now than he had been in the Last War.

The enormous Haxorus standing vigil at his side didn't hurt the effect either.

Fino had spent several years working on behalf of the Ever Grande League in Kalos rebuilding relationships. It was no surprise to Ash that the Lumiose League paid their respects as well.

Even the Ranger Union, which was (somewhat understandably in Ash's eyes) frosty towards the National League and Lumiose alike, dispatched old Professor Hastings to stand vigil.

Champion Diantha herself stood near Alder with a thin Gardevoir at her side. Both of their heads were bowed, but Diantha's famed elegance showed through even in this atmosphere. She was in a simple white dress that contrasted with her dark hair, and she was the picture of nobility alongside the mighty Steel Master Wikstrom.

Wikstrom shone like a beacon amidst the crowd, which Ash normally would've found obnoxious, but there was a sorrow to the man, a nobility that was just as brilliant as the glimmer of his armor. Something about him reminded Ash of Lance.

And next to them was—

Ash sucked in a breath.

"Ash?" His mom whispered, feeling the sharp tension that spiked throughout his body. His jaw tightened. "Honey, what's wrong?"

He could only stare at Elite Four Malva—don't honor her with such a title! Durand's specter howled in his mind—who had taken the occasion to dress to the nines in a fancy black pantsuit with delicate red accents and red-tinted sunglasses that looked more expensive than Ash's entire wardrobe.

She was silent like the rest, shifting her weight onto one leg with her arms crossed across her chest, and a giant Pyroar laid flat at her feet, licking at its paws while its brown-tipped tail flicked boredly. Delicate sparks showered the enormous Wikstrom's thick gold-trimmed steel armor, though he didn't seem to notice.

Whereas Wikstrom radiated memories of chivalry and knighthood, the ideal to which all warriors in Kalos were meant to strive for, Malva was different.

She did nothing outwardly wrong. There was no obvious disrespect, no sneer upon her painted lips, not a sign of impropriety, but Ash felt her impatience roiling beneath the surface.

Durand's ghost whispered in his ear once more. Ash hid his flinch. She walks free to sink her poisonous claws into whatever she likes.

Ash stared at her, lost in the memories of his conversation with Durand atop the Sky Pillar where she warned him of Malva and the foul corruption she represented, and only snapped out of it when he saw Karen sending him a worried glance.

'I'm fine' Ash mouthed, and she looked at him with obvious concern before flicking back to the crowd.

It took all he had to tear himself away from Malva—for a moment he thought she caught him staring daggers at her—but Dazed's warmth and the squeeze of his mom's hand gave him the fortitude to pull back and scan the rest of the crowd.

Alola didn't have a proper League (although reports Ash had read suggested there were solid efforts to forge one) but Fino's touch had left its impact there as well, ensuring steady trade and warm relations between Ever Grande and the frontier region on the northern coastline of the Southern Continent.

A handful of old men and women had come by, joined by Professor Oak's cousin. Ash didn't even know he had one until he saw them exchanging quiet greetings before taking their positions.

Professor Oak pointed out a man named Hala and another named Professor Kukui, although Ash didn't need any help recognizing the latter. Despite being a researcher, Kukui had seemingly followed Professor Oak on his path of retaining a strong team and a strong mind.

How many scientists could say they'd once challenged Indigo Champion Lance?

It had been a brutal beatdown, but anyone who made it past old Agatha in her prime was someone to be respected.

Ash wasn't quite as familiar with Galar, but their former Champion Mustard was easily recognizable thanks to his very impressive eyebrows.

He'd fit right in with Drake and Drayden, Ash thought, even though the man was stooped and lessened with age. But there was strength to him yet, although today had brought an unspeakable weariness to Mustard's face.

Leader Kabu looked as if someone had ripped his heart out, but he honored Fino regardless. Ash had seen pictures of him and Fino together around the Gym, and felt as if he knew the former Lavaridge Gym Trainer himself thanks to Fino's constant stories involving him.

Kabu honored that legacy now. Despite his allegiance to Galar, Kabu had chosen to come today in old, worn Lavaridge Gym Trainer gear. Ash had seen the older man speaking in hushed tones with Flannery's family earlier.

But eventually it was time.

Ash stiffened as a microphone sounded.

Charles Goodshow sprang up behind a podium near the center of the platform. The League President had always seemed to live by the maxim that age was a state of mind; though always wise and generous, there was a captivating energy to him that made it easy to forget just how many years had piled upon his short frame.

That energy was still present, an innate part of Charles Goodshow's being, but rather than dancing merrily like a candle, it was now focused into the intensity of a blowtorch as he adjusted the microphone and peered somberly out at the armies of mourners.

"I wish to offer my heartfelt gratitude to all of those who have gathered here today to commemorate the life and accomplishments of Fino Moore today," Goodshow said gravely.

Thousands went silent. It felt discourteous to even take a breath.

"We all know Master Fino as all the world needed in its darkest days, the epitome of all the National League could hope for: while a mighty trainer, Master Fino's greatest strengths were found outside the battlefield. He built bridges where none thought possible, making connections in a world broken up into feuding islands, and I am honored to see the lives he touched here today."

Charles Goodshow sighed.

"Gym Leader Flannery will offer her commemoration, followed by more of Master Fino's loved ones. Before we share words, let us share a moment of silence."

It was eerie for the bustling Lavaridge plaza to be filled with nothing but the sounds of breathing. Such a lively place felt as if it were frozen in time.

Fino Moore.

For a moment the vision of the dark-wreathed Bullet Seeds tearing through Fino's frail old body flickered before Ash's eyes. Ash's fists clenched as he remembered the look of surprise on Fino's gentle face, the scream of Ash and both their teams, the echo of his final words in Ash's ears.

You'll protect them, won't you?

Ash cracked.

No. No! Fino was more than the misery of his dying moments.

Ash shut his eyes and remembered the good times—long conversations atop the spires of Forina as they traded stories, Fino's gentle teasing of Flannery, the moment he chose to teach Ash and Infernus Blast Burn, testing one another in graceful and savage battle, and the patience and kindness he showed to all who crossed his path...

A Master.

A grandfather.

A mentor.

An idealistic diplomat.

A dreamer.

A good man.

That was the Fino Moore that Ash would remember for the rest of his days, the Fino Moore that was radiant and warm as the sun shining upon them now.

But then the moment was over. Charles Goodshow gave the order for the salute, and Ash felt the outpouring of raw feeling from the crowd as hundreds upon hundreds of fire-types littered in pockets throughout Lavaridge—raised upon roofs, hastily built platforms, and the slopes of Mt. Chimney itself—turned their throats to the sky and unleashed a conflagration like Lavaridge had never seen.

Sweltering, searing heat filled Lavaridge as Flamethrower after Flamethrower was unleashed into the clear sky, blazing brilliantly to outshine the sun for just a few moments as they paid their respects to the Fire Master and former Lavaridge Gym Leader.

Infernus was out there with Flannery's team and the remains of Fino's own family, and when Ash spied great twin streams of cerulean flame blazing amongst the orange and red and gold, he suspected that he'd found his friend.

Fino and Plinia had more than earned Infernus' respect. Infernus wasn't one to forget that. He would throw every scrap of who he was into honoring them.

But even as the crowd stared at Lavaridge set ablaze, bathed in the convergence of a thousand Flamethrowers and Embers and Fire Blasts that filled the sky with smoke as if Mt. Chimney itself was erupting, Ash felt Fire blaze in his heart.

With his love and fury and grief as tinder, Ash channeled Fire into the world to make a pyre worthy of Fino Moore. Lance jolted as he felt his patron's nature expressed, and with a quick glance at Ash he squeezed his fist and added his own might to the conflagration.

And as one, they fueled the fire beyond mortal limits.

It burst through the air, rising higher and burning hotter than it had any right to, the cinders lingering and swirling and dancing like snow as they shone white with renewed heat. Smoke billowed upwards as the inferno howled, swirling into an enormous conflagration that left the sky above Lavaridge utterly aflame.

It was as if a hurricane of smoke and fire had been birthed above Lavaridge.

Fliers shrieked and shot far higher into the sky or dove desperately to earth.

Gasps.

Screams.

Cries.

Ash and Lance paid them no heed as they sustained the inferno—this last, fleeting monument to one of the brightest flames that Ash had ever known—for nearly a minute through nothing but their own will.

Plume shrieked above, singing her own comprehension into their chorus, though it was a pale reflection of what she possessed when they were unified.

Even after the last of the pokémon ceased to add their own additions to the flames (save a handful who pressed on heedless of the endlessly growing fires; no doubt Infernus was amongst that category) the dancing inferno swirled above Lavaridge like an earthbound sun.

It blazed hotter, hotter, hotter as Ash demanded, rising to his command, amplified and made more until he felt the fear of the crowd begin to outweigh the awe…and then he let it go.

The flames scattered into wispy tongues as nature demanded before drifting away into nothing but traces of smoke once Lance followed suit.

His mother's hand trembled on his shoulder, but Ash felt the boring eyes of Professor Oak upon him as well. Byron offered Cynthia a supportive hand as she swayed on her feet.

With cinders raining and smoke briefly blotting out the sun's rays, Flannery took to the podium, awkwardly stepping up to the microphone and leaning down into it as she stared blankly out at the crowd for a moment. She was pale as the ash raining from the sky.

Flannery gaped at the crowd.

Lucille drifted up to stand elegantly at her side. The Delphox brushed her claws through Flannery's red hair before taking her hand in her own, much as his mother held Ash's own hand.

She opened her mouth once and nothing came out.

"You can do it," Ash murmured. "C'mon, Flannery."

The mourners waited with bated breath.

Flannery finally spoke.

"Thanks for coming today," Flannery began, her voice wobbly, as her free hand gripped the microphone. She peered up into the blue sky, which was finally cleared up as fliers returned to bat away the smoke left by the conflagration. "Grandpa loves…loved days like this. And I know he would've been so happy to see all of you. He loved people. He loved Lavaridge. He always wanted to travel again—"

Flannery's composure broke for a moment as she sniffled into the microphone, but no one said a word. She wasn't looking anywhere near Ash, but he tried to offer as supportive of a smile as he could.

"He really wanted to see the world again. He wanted to see his friends," Flannery started back up, wiping her eyes. "Grandpa wanted to walk the streets of Castelia again, and see the lights of Lumiose, and watch the sunset on an Alolan beach…but he won't get to do that anymore. He'd be so happy to see you all here. So go live brightly. It's what he would want for you."

For a moment it seemed like Flannery had more to say, but she looked ready to crumble and pulled back to polite applause, and from there speaker after speaker came up to testify for Fino Moore.

Drake shuffled forward with a cigar hanging from his mouth and looked more like a feral dragon than ever despite wearing actual clothes for the first time in thirty years. He glared out at the crowd for a moment, glanced down at the caskets belonging to Fino and Plinia, and scowled.

The entire audience waited raptly, eyes fixated on the legendary trainer.

"A good man, he was, and a lot smarter than me," Drake grumbled, Victor the Salamence looming behind him. He tugged at the loose collar of his shirt as if it were strangling him. "Strong trainer and a finer friend. Saved my life plenty of times. First human to outdrink me too. I owed him."

The Dragon Master snorted smoke from his nostrils. He laid one hand on the burnished mahogany of Fino's casket with something inscrutable behind his harsh gaze.

"Ever Grande didn't deserve him, but I'm glad we got him," Drake added gruffly. He took another puff from his cigar. "I didn't deserve him. He kept us human. Made sure we all stayed true in the bad days. Made sure we didn't forget ourselves."

Drake puffed out more smoke, then plucked the fat cigar from his mouth and eyed it.

"He hated these damn things," Drake said, frowning. He moved to take another drag, but shook his head and errantly flicked the cigar off onto the floor of the platform. Victor groaned sadly and snapped his waiting jaws shut as he was left disappointed. "Drove me mad when my Fire Master wouldn't give me a light. Guess I'm done with them now. I'll miss him."

It was an odd eulogy (no surprise there, knowing Drake) but Ash could feel the conviction and heartfelt intent behind it. Drake never minced words, and something about the sheer certainty of whatever he said was magnetic.

Strangely enough, it might have been the most emotion Drake had ever shown. At least to Ash.

Beloved by Hoenn as he was, Drake's speech earned reverent looks, although quite a few of the foreigners looked at each other oddly. 'Bemused' was a generous way to describe their reactions. Old Alder just shook his head fondly.

A few others went up that Ash didn't know—personal friends and family, mostly—but all of Ash's attention focused upon Steven as the former Champion dragged himself up to the stage. Poor Steven seemed utterly exhausted, drained dry by the toll of the last few days.

"Fino Moore…" Steven trailed off, crumbling with those two words. Ash's heart sank. "He was a mentor and friend when I needed him most. He was always kind, always waiting with an open ear, and taught me what it meant to be a Master. I know so many others benefitted from his wisdom, and I wish…I wish—"

Steven's voice gave out, cracking once more, and Ash watched with horror as his teacher grew straight and tall, hard of eyes and hard of heart, as he traded his humanity for the strength of cold steel.

"A great man is lost. He taught us what it was to be human," Metagross said through Steven's mouth. "He softened us in a time when we needed it most. We owe a great debt that can never be repaid. We shall strive to honor his memory and make him proud."

Lance frowned as Steven continued, his tones harsher and more mechanical than they ever had been.

"Fino was the heart at Hoenn's center. A wonderful man. He dreamed of a world that could not be, but it is our duty to take each step closer to what he imagined. Rise. Be better. Be worthy of him."

With their piece said, Steven drifted away, sagging as Metagross returned his body, and was marble pale as he found his place back in the Ever Grande section.

Speaker after speaker came to the podium, telling stories and memories and old wishes. Some were amusing, some were heartbreaking, but all were told wistfully, full of longing, and Ash saw soul after soul touched by Fino Moore in some way.

Fino was not the strongest of Masters, but Ash expected few cast the shadow that he did. He had changed the world not only through battle and blood and action but through dialogue. Communication. Empathy.

Alder rose next, tears running unashamedly down his time-worn face. The Vertress Champion—the first and only to bear that title, though Ash heard rumors that Alder was planning to step down within the next few years—was an imposing man, big and tall and broad even as the years ran him down, but there was a gentleness to him that softened his mighty appearance.

He had a kind face, Ash decided, even when it was painted with grief. The Volcarona hovering by his side made that warmth physical as it nuzzled close to its trainer.

"Fino and I met during a dark period of our lives," Alder said quietly, commanding the attention of the entire crowd with ease. Much like Drake, every word felt carefully curated, but Alder seemed far more human. Less like a feral dragon who someone had flung onto the Champion's throne. "But those times are behind us, I am pleased to say, and in no small part due to his tireless efforts. I will speak no more of them."

Alder cleared his throat, unbothered by the tears streaking his weathered features.

"I knew him well. He was a desperately needed bridge between two worlds, a man with the strength to do what was right rather than renewing old cycles of hatred. Fino Moore was a man more concerned with justice than vengeance," Alder said. "While I honor Fino for his accomplishments, I honor him more as a treasured friend."

Silence for a moment as Alder regathered himself and adjusted the string of Pokéballs hanging loosely around his neck. His fingers clung to the center device, apparently in search of comfort, and Volcarona sang quietly.

"We wrote a poem together a long, long time ago…well, Fino wrote the poem and I'm pretty sure I only made it worse," Alder said, chuckling. "A product of too many hours in the office and a little delirium, no doubt, but a memory I treasure all the same."

Alder's eyes closed. Despite the pain that the Vertress Champion didn't care to hide, Ash saw an air of serenity befall the legendary trainer.

"A shining new world

And inside ev'ry new soul

A revolution"

He recited it from memory, allowing the words to hover over the crowd and slither into their minds, and Ash grit his teeth as he recalled Fino sharing that same poem with him in Forina after their battle.

That felt like so long ago.

"Today we honor a citizen of the world and defender of humanity," Alder finished. "But it is not a goodbye. Not so long as a single person who bears his influence lives. Not so long as his ideals live on as the foundation of this bright new world he helped craft."

And with that, Alder stepped down, followed by his Volcarona.

Famous figure after famous figure passed by, titan after titan, common folk and those who had learned the lessons Fino had spread like a torch, and it lasted for over an hour.

Not a soul stepped away from the plaza until it was time for the mourners to step up to the platform and bid farewell to Fino Moore themselves in a seemingly endless procession.

The League went first. Ash felt his mother and Professor Oak's presence as a constant reassurance behind him and heard their soft words in his ears. Dazed's mental touch kept him steady.

Even so, every step felt as if his shiny black shoes (also courtesy of Karen) were filled with lead.

But at last he reached the closed caskets once the other League members had taken their brief second with Fino and Plinia's earthly remains. They were empty husks now, Ash knew as he stared blankly at the beautifully polished mahogany, breathing deeply of the faint whiffs of smoke still lingering in the air, and it felt wrong to imagine them trapped within.

Steven had mentioned that they would be cremated later in accordance with Hoennic tradition. Ash thought the cleansing touch of flame would be something Fino would appreciate. Perhaps it would set them free.

Cold flame pricked behind his eyes as he rested his hands atop each of their caskets but Ash couldn't be bothered with it. Mewtwo had been watching through his vision this whole time, he knew, but thankfully hadn't said a word.

Part of Ash wished to scream and take the Sacred Ash and pour it atop their coffins, to bring them back whether they wished for it or not…but he couldn't disrespect them like that.

Not when Fino had chosen otherwise.

So Ash thought back to the lessons Fino had taught him one last time.

See light in the darkness.

Treasure peace, not conflict.

Be an outstretched hand to all those who need it most.

Cherish beauty and the fleeting moments which fade too soon.

And above all else, Fino had (alongside Lance, Professor Oak, Steven, and so many other treasured names etched into Ash's spirit) had taught him one ultimate lesson, the ideal to shape himself around.

Be a good man.

"I'll remember it all," Ash whispered to the casket, wishing that Fino and Plinia could truly hear him. He squeezed Dazed's large yellow hand in his own and felt her own embrace in turn. "I will give more than I take, I promise. I'll protect them."

And with those parting words, Ash stepped away to join his mother and Professor Oak.

"Oh, Ash," his mom whispered, leaning forward to embrace him as they slowly trailed behind the rest of the procession. "I'm so sorry."

Ash felt a bitter smile play across his face, but some of the tension writhing in his chest had finally eased with that last goodbye. His eyes settled on Flannery, who was buried in a small army of well-wishers that had come to speak with her and her family.

She looked exhausted.

"Yeah, me too."

XX

Fino's wasn't the only funeral that day.

Ash was exhausted after Fino's ceremony, his spirit squeezed dry and his feelings spread painfully thin, but he dragged himself back to his room, washed his face, and gathered his team before departing for a small, discrete funeral home tucked away in a lonely corner of Lavaridge.

Some things simply had to be done.

Finding this place hadn't been easy. The League had been silent regarding this particular occasion, fearing vandalism and outrage, but Ash's clearance came in handy every now and then. There were a few Rangers surreptitiously posted around to keep the peace—but not a single Lavaridge Gym Trainer, thankfully, or the League might have seen a revolt—yet the place was almost entirely deserted otherwise.

Silence greeted Ash as he stepped into the brightly lit interior of the funeral home. Despite the intensity of the lights, Ash felt distinctly uncomfortable as he entered. He felt like an outsider, like he had entered a place sequestered from all the rest of the world.

A lone attendant drifted around the eerily silent home to make minute adjustments, complete minor tasks, and (likely) burn time so that he could go home and leave this particular funeral behind.

Jacqueline Durand was likely the most hated person in Lavaridge right now, so Ash couldn't blame anyone for the desolate atmosphere of the funeral he'd drifted into.

The only other living thing in this room besides Ash and the twitchy attendant was a lone woman with her hands clasped in the front row.

It was terribly lonely.

"Why am I here?" Ash murmured below his breath. Nidoking's sharp ears picked it up, of course, and the great poison-type shrugged as he dragged his tail over the shiny wooden panels. They hadn't told a soul where they were going.

Ash couldn't bear to tell Steven, and he'd simply told his mother and Professor Oak that he needed time to himself. He didn't want to explain himself.

For all his hatred of what Durand was, for all his fury at the crimes she had committed, the withered petals and atrophied roots of something good and decent within her summoned him here.

Those words they'd shared atop the Sky Pillar—the hope—demanded that Ash attend Jacqueline Durand one last time.

One final goodbye.

So Ash found himself fixated upon Durand's own closed casket as he, Nidoking, Bruiser, Lairon, and Tangrowth strode forward and filled the cavernous interior with a little more life.

The funeral home was a temple of silence, and Ash intended on keeping it that way. Ash loved Tangrowth, but he, Bruiser, and Nidoking had spent several minutes painstakingly explaining appropriate behavior to the happy-go-lucky grass-type on the way here.

Perhaps it hadn't been needed. Despite the eternal pep in his step, there was something somber in Tangrowth's big round eyes.

Death was something he understood.

They were the only ones of Ash's team willing to step inside with him, though the others had wished him well. Ash didn't even ask Weavile or Infernus—he would never begrudge them for taking lives in their defense when the fight had grown so desperate, but he wouldn't dare bring them to Durand's lonely memorial—and quite a few of his friends didn't want to pay any respects to Durand at all.

Ash couldn't blame them. Part of him didn't want to either.

But he needed to be here.

The whole world honored Fino with flame and memory and love.

No one honored Durand.

After today she would be forgotten save for a curse on peoples' tongues, blood-tinged smoke scattered by a wind too great for her to stand against.

There were no speakers, no mourners.

Except for one.

Ash gave a respectful berth to the woman who carefully adjusted a large picture to stand in front of the coffin, which had several meticulously cleaned Pokéballs set in front of it.

His stomach twisted itself into knots as the woman stepped away and the picture was revealed in full: a smiling blonde girl a little younger than Ash. There was a light dusting of freckles across her tanned face and a small gap between her two front teeth. She was absolutely radiant with joy as she scrunched her nose up and waved to the camera with a little Ralts at her side.

The young girl's hair was a little more golden. Her eyes were a little brighter and her face was softer, but Ash would recognize Jacqueline Durand anywhere.

Now that the woman had stepped away and Ash caught her profile, his breath hitched.

Dirty blonde hair, the same upturned nose, and perhaps a little softer, but she was a dead ringer for Durand.

His heart panged as he realized who this lone mourner was.

Durand's mother.

All of her fighting, all of the blood spilled, and so many hopes extinguished, and this was Durand's legacy: a weary mother and a boy who might as well have hammered several of the nails into her coffin.

Ash tasted bile in his mouth as he silently sat in the front row while his team drifted around him. It wasn't as if there was much competition for the seats.

All he could do was stare at the closed casket, the lovingly polished red-and-white Pokéballs placed carefully in front of it, and the picture of Durand unscarred and innocent ahead of them all.

Durand looked so young…

The woman's weary eyes sent a lingering, searching look in Ash's direction, but she didn't approach him, instead opting to take her own seat on the opposite side of the aisle. She seemed utterly empty, striking Ash as achingly familiar.

Durand's mother seemed as if she had been scooped clean by Lotus in the early days. Like she had stared into the abyss and invited it in.

Ash wanted to speak up. He wanted to say something—anything—but his tongue felt swollen and clumsy and stiff in his mouth.

So he shut his eyes and wished for the battle on the side of Mt. Chimney had never happened.

He wished he would have arrived after Fino and Durand brokered peace—or was Glacia right and Brodie would have attempted to spark conflict regardless?

Ash wished he had been powerful enough to force Durand to surrender from the beginning. She was willing to face Ash and Fino in a fighting retreat (even if she could never hope to defeat the two of them at once) but what would she have done if Steven strolled onto the battlefield?

There would have been no fight at all.

Two Masters would still be alive, as would Plinia and Aegislash and Shiftry and Farfetch'd and so many others…

He wished that Durand could have seen Lance's efforts shine a light upon the monsters who haunted Durand from the shadows.

He wished she would've been caught by the Hunters ages ago.

He wished she would have escaped.

He wished that Durand had never taken the first step down this path…but that was the most impossible of all, wasn't it? She couldn't abide the injustice she'd witnessed. Her ideals were carved into her bones.

In the end, Ash wished for a lot of things.

But the amethyst chrysalis beneath Forina was far away, lifeless, and did not answer his prayers. Neither did the Unown tablet when he squeezed it tautly in his fingers.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Footsteps clacked on the wooden tiles behind them.

Durand's mother stiffened, as did Nidoking. Nidoking's great ears twitched.

Ash saw Durand's mother briefly flick her eyes backward, but the glance only lasted for a moment before the woman's pale face turned bright red and her soft green eyes gained a hint of her daughter's deadly steel.

But it did not last.

Durand's mother swiftly turned away and locked her eyes upon the picture of her young daughter setting out on her journey. Her hands trembled with a maelstrom of wrath and fear and heartbreak.

Ash broke from his vigil to face the newcomer, blinking as a tall, elegant woman with bright pink hair, a shiny black top matched by similarly colored pants with diamond patterns down the front, and a lit cigarette in her mouth came stalking up to the casket. She had changed since Fino's funeral, but Ash knew this was what she'd truly left Kalos for.

His hard eyes tracked her every step.

A graceful Pyroar stepped behind her, eyes high and a snarl on its lips as it eyed Durand's casket, and its tail flicked furiously, sending a small shower of sparks racing down to the floor. The attendant grimaced and looked ready to speak up, but one disdainful look from the Pyroar snuffed that thought.

The woman had a lighter in her other hand and idly flicked it on and off as she stared down at Durand's casket. She blew a puff of smoke at it.

Tension. Relief. Anger. Disappointment. Victory.

Ash saw them all flicker across the woman's face in an instant as she turned, her lips twitching with something like amusement, to see Ash staring at her.

Glaring at her.

Durand's mother kept her eyes down.

"Elite Four Ash," Malva of the Lumiose League said imperiously, her painted lips finally curling into a smile. Her accent was thicker than Durand's. "I've heard stories. You were there, weren't you? You saw her die."

Ash said nothing.

If he spoke a word it might end with a scream.

"They say you're a boy of few words." Malva didn't seem bothered by his silence. "That's fine—I'm used to leaving men tongue-tied. I'm surprised to see you here, Ash Ketchum, given that you came to blows with Jacqueline Durand not once, but twice. And lived! Not everyone is—was—so lucky."

Malva's eyes flickered to Durand's mother briefly.

Right now Ash was wishing Malva hadn't been so lucky. The Pyroar's tail flicked as its cerulean eyes settled upon Ash, and he sneered at the feline, fighting down the snarl that wanted to come out.

Nidoking growled, rising, and Ash really wanted to have him break the arrogant feline in half.

And Malva too.

"You should go." Ash's voice was steel, a tempest bound in chains. The room's temperature slowly but steadily rose and Pyroar tensed, coiling tight like a spring ready to explode into motion.

Bruiser folded his four arms.

Lairon pawed at the floor, clearly ready to fling himself into battle, and in any other circumstance Ash would have joined him.

But not here. Not now.

"It's an open funeral, not that many have taken advantage of that," Malva said easily. "I have simply come to pay my respects."

"And you have," Ash hid his growl, desiring nothing more than to ask Bruiser to hurl her out. But he didn't want to dishonor Durand, and he didn't want to add more stress to her mourning mother. "So leave."

Malva smiled sweetly at him and took another long drag from her cigarette. The ashen end looked ready to fall off the cigarette and onto the casket. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I leave on my own time. It's been a long time since I've had to take orders from anyone I don't care to. Perks of the job. You should know."

Durand's mother shook, though Ash couldn't tell if it was with rage or tears, but Ash had had enough.

He rose.

Malva's expression was flat, but he could see the delight in her eyes.

Ash didn't care.

He remembered the look in Durand's eyes when she spoke about Malva.

He remembered the hate.

Nothing could honor Durand more than breaking the Fire Master in half like a twig.

Pyroar coiled up, ready to pounce, and Bruiser glowered. Tangrowth's vines twitched. Nidoking snarled as toxins leaked from his horn.

Death filled Ash's glare.

Fire leapt in his breast. The air twisted and coiled. Sweat blossomed upon Malva's brow. She took a step back.

He could show her a real flame. He could set her blood boiling and watch smoke billow from her eyes and ears and mouth.

He could make this a funeral for two. Durand would love this particular company, Ash knew.

But no, he'd have to settle for—

"Elite Four Malva, I did not expect to see you here," a new voice said mildly from the entryway. It was soft as snow and delicate as dainty crystal but with an underlying edge like that of jagged glass.

Malva and Ash stopped in their tracks.

Elegant and gentle, sophisticated, but not to be trifled with.

Every hint of pleasure vanished from Malva's face.

"Enough. Malva, I believe Wikstrom could use your help back at the hotel. His armor needs to be treated."

Champion Diantha stepped inside. Her Gardevoir swept in at her side, though it looked distinctly uncomfortable for a reason that Ash couldn't place. It blinked and looked oddly at Nidoking for a moment, but smoothed out its expression.

Malva smiled beatifically, dipped her head to Champion Diantha, and nodded.

"Of course, Champion. I'll be on my way," she said, then turned to Durand's mother with a smile so saccharine that it made Ash want to puke as badly as it made his blood boil. "You have my utmost sympathies, Ms. Durand."

Ms. Durand didn't say a word back as Malva strutted out of the funeral home with her Pyroar hot on her four-inch heels.

Diantha drifted gracefully ahead as her Gardevoir stood vigil by the entrance. The Lumiose Champion strode up to Ms. Durand and spoke quietly to her, no doubt offering her gentle apologies, then rose and came to Ash.

"I am sorry for Malva's temerity," Diantha said as she settled down into the seat next to Ash. Her crystal blue eyes—quite similar to Glacia's—never wavered from Durand's picture. Her lips set into a small frown. "She bears lasting scars from her past, and I'm afraid that she has never been quick to forgive."

Ash said nothing to that. He had nothing polite to say in regards to Malva, and Diantha's presence was so serene that it felt wrong to say so much as a crude word in her presence.

"That does not justify her behavior," Diantha continued. Her tone carried much of Glacia's cool dissatisfaction too. "I shall remind her of appropriate decorum."

"She needs it," Ash grumbled. He almost wished that Diantha hadn't shown up at all, but the thought of explaining that mess to Lance and Karen left him cringing. They would have absolutely murdered him.

Well, Karen would have for sure.

"I will not trouble you long," Diantha said. "It is kind of you to pay your respects. Champion Lance speaks well of you, and I see that his faith is well-placed."

Ash nodded tersely. "I'm surprised to see you here," he muttered low enough that Ms. Durand couldn't hear him. Their whole conversation had been whispered so far, but he didn't want to trouble Durand's mother one more whit than necessary. "She was your enemy, wasn't she?"

"And yours," Diantha murmured. "But in our enemies, I see my failings. It is important to look into that mirror, I think, lest we repeat our mistakes."

"Failings seem like all I can see lately," Ash grumbled, staring at Durand's picture. How could that girl—a fresh-faced rookie eager to tackle the world—have become the blood-soaked vessel of vengeance that Ash had come to know? How could her kindness have become so twisted?

Diantha sighed. "It is the way of the world, I'm afraid. Old mistakes are catching up with this. Cracks in the foundation have grown deep and difficult to correct. Institutions grow bloated and heavy, twisted from the chivalry that was their bedrock."

Ash listened intently. Diantha reminded him a bit of Alder in the way she commanded attention, but there was a deftness to her speech that the bluntly honest Vertress Champion didn't possess, an enchanting lilt to her charisma that demanded all eyes settle upon her.

It was no wonder she'd done so well as an actor before assuming the role of Champion, although he knew she still did the occasional movie appearance when time allowed. Wallace was quite the fan, apparently, although most of Diantha's movies were a little too slow and dialogue-heavy for Lance's taste.

Cynthia had commented on how accurate the historical fiction pieces were to the sources of its inspiration when she'd had the chance to pick movies at night.

Steven would just rather watch a documentary. Preferably one about rocks.

"That is what I believed," Diantha said suddenly. "I'd grown inured to the trend, shackled by my own station, but your Champion Lance has a way of reminding me that it's never too late to hope for something better. How helping those in need can start with anyone."

Ash cracked a smile despite his grim mood. "He does that."

"He's shared quite a great deal during his time in Lumiose," Diantha added, suddenly troubled. "And as I learn more, I find myself quite unsettled."

He and Nidoking both watched her carefully.

"I have spent my time as Champion keeping the ship steady," Diantha said, her Gardevoir drifting up from the doorway to lay a spindly hand upon her wrist, "but it seems I've steered us into treacherous waters without realizing. It is time the captain changed course. Lumiose has made mistakes, yes, but there is time yet to make things right. Perhaps I came here to remember that."

Diantha rose, every motion smooth as a dancer's.

"My apologies once more for Malva's intrusion," Diantha murmured, then inclined her head towards Ash. "Farewell, Elite Four Ash. I will leave you to your own mourning."

He nodded at her, whispered his own goodbye, and paid no heed as the Lumiose Champion drifted out of the funeral home.

They sat there for a long, long time. Night had fallen long ago.

Only one other came to bid Durand farewell: Alfred of the Hunters. The burly blond man lost his usual smile in favor of a contemplative look as he stepped in and shared a quick exchange of greetings with Ms. Durand, who seemed to recognize him, and took a seat near her.

He nodded at Ash, who returned the gesture with one of his own, and soon seemed lost in memory alongside his Donphan.

Had they been friends? It was so strange to imagine Durand having something so mundane as someone to laugh and poke fun at. So strange to imagine her with any amount of normality in her life.

But eventually Ash reflected on all he could. He wrestled with his decisions, wondered what he might have done better, and alternated between cursing Durand for ever being born and desperately hoping she'd found peace with her team in whatever came after death.

It was time to leave.

So Ash rose, dipped his head once at Durand's casket, and—

"You are Ash Ketchum, yes?"

His heart skipped a beat as a hesitant voice intercepted him. Ms. Durand waited for him in the main aisle, disquiet plain as day on her features, and Ash felt his stomach tie itself into knots.

Her daughter really was a mirror of her, Ash mused. Softer, lined with years, all the things that Jacqueline Durand would never have, and guilt pounded in his skull. Tangrowth's vines came to loop around his arm.

He nodded. The lump in his throat made it almost impossible to speak, but his team gave him courage. "Yes."

"Thank you for attending. And thank you for making that—" Ms. Durand said something in Kalosian, and while Ash didn't know the word he suspected it was nothing very flattering, "—Malva leave. I saw her, and I…"

She calmed.

"They told me what happened," Ms. Durand said, voice steady, and Ash wondered if this was where Durand had sourced her courage. "Jacqui did many terrible things, I know. She was always so passionate, certain that her way was the right way, the only way. She had too much of her father in her. I am sorry for whatever pain she has caused you."

Ms. Durand slipped then, an instant of unfiltered grief wracking her, but was quick to regain her composure.

For a moment Ash wanted nothing more than to rage, to howl at Ms. Durand about the lives her daughter had taken—Anorith, collateral damage, poor Plinia, Fino!—but that moment of grief stilled his wild anger.

And as furious as he was at Jacqueline Durand (intermixed as that anger was with a dozen other conflicting feelings) he could never take it out on her mother. Never on someone undeserving.

"She did hurt me," Ash said, unwilling to hide away that pain. "She hurt a lot of people. But she helped me too, and taught me. She made me a better trainer. She might have even saved my life once. She…I just wish it had all turned out differently."

"So do I," Ms. Durand whispered, a faraway look in her forest green eyes. "So do I."

And with that, Ash left the home.

He left Durand.

But Ash wouldn't forget what she had taught him either.

Night fell over Lavaridge, thick and heavy as the Earth which pressed upon his shoulders, and Ash felt every step come slow and aimlessly.

It took a long, long time to make his way back to the Gym.

XX

Lavaridge Gym was a bustling mess as Elite Four Flint took command. He was an explosive man, full of limitless energy and enthusiasm, and the Gym Trainers desperately needed his easy charisma as he ran them ragged with new arrangements and orders.

Flint and Ash hadn't had the chance to speak thanks to how busy he was, but Ash could hear his eager bellows from the other side of the Gym. Kabu was managing the finer details alongside some of Fino and Flannery's established lieutenants, but nobody got the ball rolling quite like Flint himself.

Ash received nods and muttered greetings as he made his way through the Gym, but something had changed with Fino gone. The Gym Trainers might have been forced to action in resuming their usual duties after their brief period of mourning, sure, but Ash could see plain as day that they were still wrestling with their loss.

But while Ash was polite, the simple truth was that he wasn't here for them.

This couldn't take too long, Ash knew. He'd already bid farewell to Steven (who was already tearing into his work alongside Metagross with Claydol nowhere to be seen) and assured Lance, Professor Oak, and his mother that he wouldn't be more than an hour or so.

They were roaming Lavaridge now as an odd pack since his mother had taken the reins of arranging for Professor Oak to go with her to revisit some of the sights she'd seen on her visit after Zinnia's attack. Hopefully she didn't leave Lance rattled yet again…

But this was something that Ash simply couldn't leave without doing.

He took a deep breath as he knocked on Flannery's door and was surprised to see it immediately unlatch and swing open with a brief psychic flash. Lairon had joined him for this little endeavor and immediately flung himself in with a cheery warble.

Ash followed suit.

"Ash?" Flannery wrinkled her nose. A few storage compartments were laid out on her red bed. The Lavaridge insignia emblazoned upon the comforter was buried beneath an army's worth of clothes, food supplies, medicine, and all the other essentials for traveling. Her belt bore some new additions: two old and worn Poke Balls next to a brand new one. Lucille and Piper both stood near her, and each greeted Ash and Lairon, who had eagerly gone to sniff at both fire-types. "I thought you'd left."

"Nah," Ash said. His mouth was painfully dry. Some bizarre part of his brain took the time to recognize that Flannery had acquired new pillows for her bed after she'd torn the rest apart. "Not yet. I wanted to see you before we went back to Indigo."

Ash caught the briefest flicker of a smile despite Flannery's general glum mood. She'd regained a little of her usual energy since the funeral (which left him endlessly relieved), but Ash knew it would be a long, long time before she could go back to normal.

If there was a normal after this.

"You're traveling?" Ash peered over the entire wardrobe flung messily all around Flannery's room. Even Gary (city-loving hoarder that he was) would balk if she brought all this into the wilderness. But cost was no concern for a Gym Leader and storage compartments could work miracles.

Flannery sighed and fell back onto the bed, suddenly drained dry.

"Yeah," Flannery said softly. "Wallace and I talked for a long time. I didn't want to leave at first, but I can't serve Lavaridge like I am now. He wouldn't hear of letting me remain on duty."

Those last words were bitter.

"So I'm going to do what we planned!" Flannery declared, a little heat returning to her. It didn't last long before she slumped again. "My parents wanted me to stick around with them and mope, but no way. We're going to see the world. I'm going to do what Grandpa didn't get to do, you know? I'm going to travel, train, and learn…we're going to make him proud, Ash! We'll be what Lavaridge needs by the time we get back."

"How long will you be?" Ash asked quietly. He was happy for Flannery, glad that she would escape and find a little joy before the world came erupting to life beneath their feet, but he couldn't hide the faint unsettling feeling of imagining her half the world away.

Flannery chewed her bottom lip as she looked over at Lucillle. The Delphox's eyes flashed.

"A few months," Flannery decided. "We…we need to be alone for a little bit, Ash. Everything here reminds me of Grandpa. The pictures, the Gym, Lavaridge…he's everywhere. I want to remember him, but I want to do it by honoring him, not by crying into my pillow every night. I want to walk where he walked. Grandpa loved Lavaridge. But the whole world is filled with his memory. I'm going to find it everywhere I can."

Ash smiled sadly. Fino would have loved that, he thought. If only the old Fire Master could've joined Flannery for one last jaunt around the world.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," Flannery said, just barely choking the words out. There was worry there, fear, sorrow, and a host of other feelings too complex to name. "Lucille's coming with us. So is Winston.."

The Delphox raised her burning wand to Ash. Her eyes flickered blue.

We will guide her, Storm-Tamer. Do not worry. Winston and I…we have joined her. We will continue our service with dear Flannery.

Ash's eyes widened.

Many of us will remain with the Lavaridge Gym. Cavitatia and Kalena have sworn their services to the League. They will remain with Steven. My arrows may have avenged my Master, but we will never rest until justice has been served in full.

"Good," Ash said, half-snarling, and forced himself to relax as Lairon looked up worriedly with his baby blue eyes. After a moment the steel-type seemed satisfied enough to go back to sniffing around Flannery's room in search of any stray chunks of metal.

Lairon had never found any before, but that didn't stop him from trying for the hundredth time.

"You'd better keep in touch, Ash," Flannery said, looking up at Ash from her bed. Her face was still haggard and her eyes unspeakably tired, but she still managed a rough smile. "And keep training! I think I'll be back after the Ever Grande Conference, but we'll see. I don't want you to get out of shape while I'm gone."

Ash barked out a laugh. "You wish. We'll have all kinds of new tricks ready."

A comfortable silence hung over them.

After a moment the words trapped in Ash's stiff tongue finally spilled out. "I can stay!"

Flannery gaped at him. "What?"

"I can stay," Ash said in a way that was a little less manic. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Every word felt like chewing glass. The vision of Fino's body flickered through his mind. "I promised I would protect Lavaridge, and I still can. I'll—"

Ash shut up as Flannery rose up from the bed and flicked him in the nose. Lairon got in on it too by gnawing on Ash's shoes until he yanked his foot away.

"Don't be stupid," Flannery said tiredly. "Flint's here. Kabu's here. Steven's here. They'll handle Lavaridge."

He nodded dumbly.

"Go home, Ash. Lucille…she showed me the memories," Flannery said, looking pained. Ash looked at the somber Delphox with horror. "I forced her to. I had to see for myself."

"Then—"

"I saw everything," Flannery cut him off. She wrapped her arms around herself. Piper snorted and came a little closer, whistling shrilly at her trainer. "There's…there's a lot to think about. But I saw it all, and you had to see it too. So go home, okay?"

Ash couldn't say anything.

Flannery cocked her head at him and ran her fingers through her messy red hair. "You've seen a lot of bad stuff in Hoenn, haven't you? Hoenn hasn't been kind to you."

"No!" Ash denied. His days learning at Steven's feet and the muddy days on the road to Fortree, the priceless time with his family as they grew more incredible with every passing moon, the friends he'd made and the things he'd learned… "No, Hoenn's been wonderful. Not perfect, but good."

He breathed.

"But…" Ash trailed off. He closed his eyes as he admitted the truth and told Flannery the same thing he'd told Lance and Steven. "I'm exhausted."

"So go rest," Flannery said. "I need to move. I need to explore. I need to grow. But Ash? I think you've grown enough for a bit. Don't break. Promise me that."

"As long as you promise not to get lost."

Flannery's red eyes flickered. "Deal."

Ash held up his fist. Flannery cracked a smile as she bumped it with her own as they sealed their oaths.

The Gym Leader glanced down at Piper, who whistled back at her, and her smile widened. "You're on a tight schedule, right?"

Ash met her eyes and grinned back. "Not so tight that I can't fit in one last battle. What do you say?"

"Ash Ketchum," Flannery drawled as her fingers grasped for one of the Pokéballs on her belt. "I'd say you're on!"

XX

Two mighty trainers clashed upon the fissured battlefield at the center of Indigo Stadium. A third-year trainer commanded his Meganium with great efficiency, turning the battlefield into a treacherous domain of snapping vines and storms of razor-sharp leaves, but it was matched by a black-haired trainer in her early twenties with a sneering Magmar at her beck and call.

Leaves were devoured by flame even as leaves gouged into molten flesh.

It was almost nostalgic, Ash thought, but it was weird to see all of this from the Indigo League's private box.

Strange, yes, but not bad.

There was an easy camaraderie with the Kanto Gym Leaders present, not to mention Ash's fellow Elite Four members. It felt like home.

Well, except for Koga and Bruno. Koga was still off in Lumiose sniffing out whatever allies Magma had there—and hopefully dirt on Malva as well, Ash thought vengefully—and Bruno was acting as a temporary liaison to Ever Grande.

Ever Grande had stumbled, but there was comfort knowing that Indigo and the Lily of the Valley were there to catch them.

Despite the clash between the Top 32 competitors roaring beneath his eyes in tune with the crowd, Ash had a difficult time focusing on the battle. Surge and Blaine commented loudly with each turn of the match and relentlessly picked apart every mistake made by the competitors (although Blaine was at least complimentary of the older woman's choice of fighter) and a few of the other Gym Leaders chimed in every now and then.

"That one won't go past the Top 16," Karen said, pointing at the trainer with the Magmar. "She and her Magmar are vicious, sure, and have the right mindset for the Conference, but they're too inflexible. Magmar always follows the same patterns: fire, shield, repeat. She'll be torn apart once she moves on and finds herself a Sharpedo amongst Gyarados."

"Ah, but she's so happy to be out there!" Will said, clapping loudly as Magmar brought the Meganium down, although the fire-type was badly wounded by a final barrage from its foe. "Look! She's smiling. She has the heart of a winner!"

"But not the ability of one," Karen scoffed.

"That Magmar is no Infernus," Ash spoke up after a moment.

"Thank the stars for that…" Karen said, reaching over to ruffle Ash's hair as he tried to bend the bill of his cap back into shape. Plume had gotten a really devastating nip on it earlier. A fair few minutes each day were devoted to maintenance. "One Infernus is enough, thank you very much."

From the corner of his vision, he saw Erika thin her lips and nod in agreement.

"Afraid of a little fire?" Blaine cut in. He wiped his mouth after taking a swig from his flask. "How fitting for a Dark Master. You're never at home unless you're skulking around in the shadows like a thief."

Karen flipped Blaine off. Brock seemed a little starstruck as Karen irritatedly tossed her silvery mane over her shoulder and Ash rolled his eyes.

It was always a little surreal how quickly Brock could go from steady, solid Pewter Gym Leader to a blushing mess.

Ash wasn't the only new addition to the League box this year. Janine seemed a little discomfited among her more experienced brethren, but the purple-haired Fuchsia Gym Leader took naturally to the Sisters. The three Cerulean Gym Leaders and Erika giggled amongst themselves as Janine whispered, and Ash felt it was better he didn't know what was being discussed.

Not when Violet kept batting her eyelashes at Surge, who seemed less than amused with her efforts.

"Ah! She's going to release her Stantler next," Will said as Magmar went down to a Golduck. It was good that Infernus couldn't be released in the box or he'd be pissed. The Psychic Master smiled beneath his mask as he was proven right moments later. "Now, judging by her body language, I expect—"

"Psychics are so annoying," Karen stage-whispered to Ash. "Isn't it obnoxious how they always know what's coming next? Leave a little mystery for goodness' sake."

Will prattled on even more excruciating detail after that. Ash suspected Karen wouldn't have teased him if Sabrina were here, but the powerful psychic was off on some mission for Saffron that Ash didn't know the details of.

Knowing Sabrina, however, she'd be back by dinner.

Ash relished the company of his fellow League members as the battle continued. Normally the battle might have enraptured him, but right now he was content to just bask in their easy conversation and light jabs at one another.

His battle-lust wasn't extinguished, but Ash couldn't deny that it was dulled.

Yet Ash craved strength more than ever before. It was a need now. A demand upon his psyche just as fervent as his body's screams for oxygen.

Strength was freedom: the liberty of choice, the opening of paths, the power to ensure no more would die when he could help it.

And (most importantly) the core demand to build a world that Fino and even Durand could be proud of. To rise up along the ranks of Lance and Drake and Alder to shove their flawed world back into the right shape.

Ash sighed as he lost himself in thought, but Seeker's weight in his lap and incessant demand for pets brought him back. He smiled down at the Golbat (even if he felt a little crushed beneath her mass of blue fur and the purple wings wrapped around him like a blanket) and scratched between her eyes.

Seeker's eyes never left him. She was addicted to sight now, constantly peering around to interpret everything she'd only known through sound and smell and hearing.

Every now and then Ash could lean into the bond between them and feel the endless joy that suffused his fuzzy friend whenever she caught sight of something truly dazzling. She was rather enamored with the Sisters' gleaming jewelry, for example, and every now and then stared at Karen's silver earrings with blatant interest.

"I'm going to have to get some for you," Karen said with obvious amusement as she caught Seeker watching her once again. "What do you say to getting your ears pierced, huh? They're big enough now that it wouldn't hurt…badly. Just two little pinches and I could deck you out!"

"Ah, I would enjoy this as well!" Will added cheerfully, leaning in closer. "Karen painted my nails the other week after a rather embarrassing loss on my part. I've never felt prettier!"

Ash snorted.

"Maybe an Elite Four makeover night is in our future," Karen said with an evil look in her eyes. Ash subtly edged away from her. "I think Lance would look lovely with a bit of contouring. He has such nice cheekbones already! We could really make them pop."

The Sisters squealed in agreement, all too eager to throw their own ideas into the dangerously boiling pot.

…Ash began to wonder if coming back to Indigo was such a good idea after all.

"You'll have to make it past Dragonite first," Ash said. "And Obliterator. So good luck with that."

"I've bribed Dragonite before and I'll bribe him again," Karen said with a lazy flick of her wrist.

"It's a little pricey, but you'd be amazed at what Dragonite will do for a few bowls of ramen!" Will chirped, balancing his cane on the very end of his finger with a subtle application of psychic power. "Granted, 'a few bowls' for Dragonite ends up costing a small fortune, but it's a nice card to keep in your back pocket."

"Just wait until our next bet," Karen said, looking at Ash knowingly. He frowned back at her, a little confused. "Forget money. I know what my terms are going to be from now on…"

"Absolutely not."

"We'll see," Karen said ominously, then reached down to pluck at the fabric of his plain shirt, which was some fancy high-quality brand that Ash had never heard of but which held up quite nicely in the wilderness. "Huh, this is looking a little small on you. I just sent you that shirt a few weeks ago! What have they been feeding you down in Hoenn? We'll have to go shopping again while you're here."

"Not the broth, thankfully."

Surge chuckled from a few seats down, momentarily turning away from the battle as the Magmar's trainer wrapped things up. "We'll just have to fix that, won't we? I'll make some calls. I can't have Ever Grande getting soft on us."

"You'd better not!" Ash shot back. "I'll get you back if you do. One of my friends—" although that could be a generous term for Gary depending on the day, "—has given me some pretty creative ideas on how to get revenge on annoying Gym Leaders."

"Ah, the Oak boy!" Will chirped, tossing a little ball of shimmering purple psychic power between his hands. Weavile rushed back in from the snack bar judging by the traces of whipped cream all over his face and tracked it obsessively, no doubt plotting the perfect moment to strike. "I heard that lovely Ms. Clair has recently been receiving an excessive number of inappropriate spam advertisements to her personal email."

"Really?" Ash asked with open curiosity. "What kind?"

Will made to answer until he caught Karen glared daggers at him.

"The kind I'm not allowed to tell you about under threat of petty revenge and major inconvenience! Including but not limited to the addition of ghost pepper sauce in my noodles, the breaking of my self-worth, and possibly even a light case of panic attacks!" Will said cheerfully. "So sorry."

Ash rolled his eyes.

"Sounds like Clair finally met her match," Surge scoffed, though every word rumbled like thunder as he kicked his feet up onto the shiny metal table in front of him. "It's somehow fitting that it took a damn snotty preteen to finally push her out of her self-made cocoon. I guess she finally managed to drag someone down to her level."

"Believe it or not, Gary dragged her down to his level," Ash said, shaking his head ruefully. Seeker chattered in agreement and nuzzled closer to him. At least some things never changed. "And I think he's winning. Just not when it comes to battling, I guess."

He knew that Gary was about to blow up like a volcano with his constant losses to Clair, but somehow Ash thought Gary was willing to put it off a little bit longer if he could just ruin one more of Clair's days.

Then again, Ash suspected Clair felt the exact same.

Apparently the Oak originally planned to challenge both the Indigo and Silver Conferences in an effort to sweep them both in an unprecedented feat, but the mutual hatred between Gary and Clair had sent all his efforts towards conquering Blackthorn instead.

But with Gary sending even more potential sponsors Ash's way under the pseudonyms of Gerald Akagashi, Jerry Hardwood, and (the laziest in Ash's opinion) Barry Oak alongside several others. Each of those pseudonyms claimed to be Ash's personal manager and had made the rounds of stirring up bidding wars between different companies for exclusive access to Ash for sponsorships.

No money actually changed hands, thankfully, but Ash had been quick to put a stop to it once things hit that point. He'd rather not find Gary dealing with armies of angry lawyers…

Knowing Gary, that would probably make his day.

Still, all of this managed to inspire a few schemes on Ash's part as well. Too bad Gary would have to wait until the Silver Conference to see them unfold.

They chattered along for a bit longer. By the end of it Ash had a day planned with Karen to swing by the Celadon Department Store again with a training session with Surge planned out once he returned.

He'd be worn out by the end of it, sure, but Ash needed to keep busy.

Keeping busy kept the dark thoughts away. Ash wasn't about to run from them, but that didn't mean he wanted to let them gnaw at him until he drowned.

It felt like far too little time had passed before the Gym Leaders began to rise. They soon departed to attend to their own Conference duties or to catch up with their regular responsibilities.

Will and Karen leisurely stood up and Ash moved to follow, but the reek of alcohol struck him in the face before he could dislodge a snoozing Seeker and get out of his rather plush chair.

"Yeah?" Ash looked up at Blaine. The old man tucked his shiny steel flask away on his belt as he glowered down at Ash.

"You got a minute?"

Karen made to interject, but Ash shook his head as she and Will lingered.

"Catch up quick," Karen called out, eying Blaine suspiciously. "With Bruno and Koga gone, I'm going to need your vote if we want to watch an actually decent movie tonight. Will can't be trusted."

"Dear Karen is correct!" Will beamed. "See you soon, Ash!"

Will sprang away and was followed soon after by Karen, although she shot a wary look Blaine's way. The old Cinnabar Gym Leader seemed like he couldn't care less about her opinion as he glowered down at Ash.

Whatever Blaine was going to ask, Ash beat him to it.

"Why weren't you at Fino's funeral?"

Blaine squinted at him with his jaw hanging open, then snapped it close. His fingers curled around the cold steel of the flask on his hip, right next to his Pokéballs, but he didn't bring it to his lips.

"He wouldn't have wanted me there," Blaine said after a moment. "We didn't see eye to eye, boy. If I set foot in Lavaridge for that funeral then Fino Moore would have turned in his grave."

"Why?" Ash's question was simple, but Blaine winced. Fino had been candid in sharing his thoughts on Blaine in Forina. That was only half the equation, though, and Ash wanted to know it all.

"Asking the hard questions, aren't you, you little shit?" Blaine said with what counted as affection for him, then plopped down into Karen's recently vacated seat. "Fino kept his hands clean during the war. I don't begrudge him that. He had Drake to do the dirty work for him while he held the leash. Me? Not so much."

Blaine did take a swig at that as he stared down at the Indigo Stadium as it slowly emptied.

"There are two types of people in this world, boy: you have your builders and your breakers. Fino Moore was a builder and the world's better for it."

Blaine's face twisted as he rose.

"Pray that you're the same."

And with that, Blaine moved to stalk out. But before he left, Blaine raised the flask.

"You saw some bad things, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"You have a pit inside. I can see it in your eyes."

Ash glanced away. "Yes."

"Lots of things can help heal that pit and fill it up with good: friends, your team, competition…" Blaine trailed off. "Love of all kinds, you hear? That's what goes in that pit. And one day it'll be gone. All filled up."

A beat.

"But if you ever try to fill it with this," Blaine said, sticking the open flask beneath Ash's nose, and Ash recoiled as the overwhelming odor of vodka smashed into him like a brick. Seeker gagged as she woke up. "I'm going to come and kick your ass, Master or no. Got it?"

"Got it," Ash wheezed, fighting down the urge to choke at the harsh scent. Who would drink that willingly?!

"Good," Blaine said, satisfied. "I'll see you around, Master Ash."

XX

Dazed's pendulum swung madly as she focused all of her psychic power with her considerable skill.

Lightning coiled about the gemmed loop and leapt towards Will's Gardevoir, only for Dazed's fellow psychic to raise a hand. Ash felt the lurch as Gardevoir's mind twisted the world, and watched with fascination as the bolt of electricity slowed to a crawl just a foot away from Gardevoir, suspended in time.

"Ah, Elemental Synthesis! That's a skill to applaud," Will said, doing just that with his gloved hands. "Grumpig has a knack for it, but I'm afraid that few of my other fellows have mastered the skill."

"You've walked much further down other roads," Ash said easily. "Like temporal manipulation."

Will laughed, delighted as Gardevoir strained to keep the lightning bolt in place. He gasped softly when Dazed's eyes blazed blue and shattered the temporal lock that Gardevoir maintained…only for Dazed to freeze it herself, although her control was lacking compared to the relative skill of Gardevoir.

"Now that is a wonderful trick!" Will spread his arms wide as if hugging Ash, and then Ash felt a psychic impression wrap around him for an instant. "Dazed, you have grown so much since we last saw you!"

Pleasure radiated from Dazed, although that didn't last long as Gardevoir unfroze the lightning bolt and spun it around himself like a comet orbiting a star. The lance of electricity flashed as it was flung back to Dazed, though her skill with Remote Teleportation enabled her to send it careening back at Gardevoir from an entirely different angle.

Gardevoir smiled as he did the same, starting a game where both attempted to keep the lightning bolt in action for as long as possible.

They redirected it, flung it this way and that through Remote Teleportation, and in general displayed dazzling displays of psychic skill that would leave even the best of psychics in this year's Indigo Conference utterly stunned.

And probably a little terrified as well.

Definitely envious.

While Gardevoir was far more skilled and managed the Master-level techniques with an ease and fluidity like water, Dazed did enormously well in keeping up. She perpetuated the game longer and longer even as Gardevoir amped up the intensity.

It was only when Ash saw the faintest trick of perception manifest in Dazed's mind through his link that she was finally struck by the lightning bolt and sent staggering back, although she manifested a psychic barrier to blunt the attack.

Will suddenly appeared next to Ash with an obnoxiously loud crack and a blinding burst of purple stars.

"My new trick!" Will declared, delighted by the light show, before pointing his cane at Dazed. "She's dazzling."

"Isn't she?" Ash grinned, biting back a laugh as the praise left Dazed open to a mental shove from Gardevoir as the two psychics locked minds.

A psychic sphere manifested behind Dazed and Ash felt the entire arena tugged toward it—Ash himself was nearly hurled off his feet as the mobile Gravity manifested by Gardevoir sucked everything into its orbit. Will hooked his cane into Ash's collar and kept him steady.

Dazed kept herself grounded with psychic power, telekinetically sparking a great gout of flame that would've made Infernus proud to pressure Gardevoir, but Gardevoir flicked the sustained Gravity orb—a Master-level technique that Will had dubbed 'White Dwarf', although he claimed it was still only partially finished, much like Storm Surge for Oz—into the air and Dazed was torn from her feet.

Gardevoir amused himself with yanking Dazed high into the air for a moment, although Dazed's return jab of telekinetically vacating the air from around Gardevoir's head (Metagross-inspired, naturally) forced it to focus on defense.

With that done, Dazed wrested control of the White Dwarf away from Gardevoir and hurtled it downwards, carrying herself with it in the artificial gravitational well, and landed cleanly on her feet before flinging the mobile Gravity back at its master.

Her foe dispelled it instantly, of course, but Dazed followed up by Remote Teleporting yet another lightning bolt generated through Elemental Synthesis into the back of Gardevoir's head, which was barely snared in time before it impacted.

While Ash was highly impressed with the comprehension of temporal manipulation that Gardevoir had attained in the last few months, it was still far clumsier and less stable than Mint Chocolate Chip's absolute mastery of the art. It reminded Ash of the fumblings of a stumbling toddler next to a skilled artisan.

It was effective nonetheless.

They chatted as the battle continued and Dazed continued her attempts to break Gardevoir's defense. She flung out with an unrelenting assault of elemental and psychic jabs from a hundred angles, pressuring Gardevoir constantly, but the more experienced psychic was like an iron wall.

Misdirection, redirection, and obfuscation were Will's bread and butter. His entire team had an incredibly thorough education in all aspects of the psychic arts, but he tended not to act directly, instead turning the opponent's own offense against them.

Will's team were renowned as prodigal in areas of spatial manipulation.

Many possessed the ability to trap enemies in spatial loops (which Ash hated), Remote Teleport flurries of attacks back at their opponent just like Dazed (which Ash hated), and—although this one still failed more often than not—even secret attacks away to release later at an opportune time (which Ash hated).

That last one fell more under the umbrella of temporal manipulation, but Will would have it working soon enough.

Needless to say, Will was a very frustrating opponent to fight against. Every action you took might as well have counted against yourself.

Ash could largely handle it so long as he didn't try to turn it into a contest of psychics, but Will was the sort of opponent you could never lower your guard with.

He might smile and laugh and joke, but Will was an absolute menace in battle. And he was only growing, leaping forward at rapid rates as he explored entirely new areas of psychic potential. Greenfield had set his mind afire.

And worst of all, the wall Will built was only his first layer of defense. If you could break past Will's more esoteric protections then your reward would be a dozen scattered mental strikes and intricately woven tricks of perception and manifested impulses that drew you inch after inch into Will's waiting jaws.

For as much of a trickster as Will and his team were, their true gifts lay in empathy. They knew their opponent and held a deeper comprehension of the inner workings of minds than almost any other team in existence. They knew what to nudge, what to pull, what to unravel and stitch back together wrong.

It was almost as much of a headache as facing Phoebe, although Ash would give it to the Ghost Master overall. Stalling tactics were the actual worst.

But even as he directed Dazed through her games and led her out of the labyrinthine mazes erected by Will and Gardevoir, Ash just felt…tired.

"Dear Ash, I fear that your heart isn't in the throes of battle-frenzy! This isn't like you at all. Are you well?"

"I—" Ash began, but stopped as the scent of phantasmal smoke billowed through his nostrils and a pair of dying words echoed in his ears. "No, not really. Not yet."

Will's smile was knowing but melancholy. "You still carry them with you."

"I do," Ash said. "It's better at the Plateau—it really is—and my team has been amazing. You have been amazing. The whole Family has. My mom's been here as much as she physically can be—"

"A delightful woman!" Will interjected cheerfully. "We had the most lovely conversation about ligands and genetic modifications the other day over tea while you were training with Champion Lance. I still don't understand a word she said!"

Ash snorted. "You get used to it. But I guess I just need…something. Something that I can't find in the Plateau."

As wonderful and relaxing and satisfying as life in the Plateau was (and Ash would never tire of his beloved room here) it was so bound up with the League that Ash found himself hearing reports from Ever Grande all the time.

He kept his ears open for them—he would be there in a heartbeat if the League needed him—but every time Lavaridge came up it was like the wounds reopened.

Ash needed space.

He needed…

"Home," Ash said wearily. "I think I need to go home for a bit."

The Plateau was home. But it was also a duty.

"It's been a long time since I've been to Pallet," Ash said wistfully, recalling that peaceful day he spent with Professor Oak. Minus all the exploding evolutionary stones, of course. He still shuddered to think of the small fortune that had been left scattered throughout Professor Oak's lab.

A small price to pay for scientific progress, of course. At least if you were Professor Samuel Oak.

"Then you should go!" Will declared, raising his cane as if it were a sword. "Follow your heart, Ash. It will never steer you wrong! The soul needs what it needs. You should never deny it. I can take care of everything here for you!"

Ash couldn't see it behind Will's mask, but he got the sense that the purple-haired man's eyebrows were wagging at him. "Would you care for a teleport?"

Ash grinned despite it all. "Are you sure you can make it that far? I still remember the last time."

"Ah, despite Karen's disparaging remarks, I assure you that Mistress Sabrina has been quite impressed with my progress!" Will exclaimed as Ash recalled Dazed, balancing his cane on the tip of his finger with unerring ease. "Prepare to be amazed!"

…and as of five seconds later, Ash wasn't.

It was hard to be amazed when you appeared fifteen feet over a frigid pond with a very upset Psyduck glaring up at you.

"Oh dear!" Will cried as they tumbled into the cold waters. "Perhaps I miscalcu—"

XX

As much as Ash desired to beeline for Professor Oak's lab, he spent much of the next few hours keeping busy.

He walked Pallet's roads, explored its hills with Nidoking, Torrent, Bruiser, and Weavile just like the old days as Seeker fluttered in the sun's light and absorbed the peaceful little town with her new eyes, and remembered.

This was the spot in the Corral where Gary ambushed him just a few days after Torrent's evolution into a Kingdra. Ash cracked a smile as he remembered that victory.

Professor Oak's Dragonite had brought Mewtwo's emissary Dragonite hurtling down to earth here, opening a painful chapter of Ash's life that he would never forget.

They walked the hills where Ash had played as a toddler with Gary—his mother had brought them here for a picnic once under the watchful eyes of Professor Oak's Alakazam and Arcanine.

So many memories. They all felt so far away, as if Ash were viewing them from a different life.

But beneath it all lingered the scents of burning flesh, a horrible crunch, and pointless deaths.

And so after a few hours of mindless exploration and the comfort of his family's presence, Ash knocked on Professor Oak's door.

It opened a minute later and Professor Oak's mouth made an 'oh' of surprise, then the old man ushered them in. The house was a bit of a wreck, but perhaps a little more organized than usual.

Ash hoped that Professor Oak had learned a little moderation in his research, although that was a difficult prospect. The Oaks didn't do anything in half-measures. That was their family's blessing and curse all in one.

No words needed to be said.

Professor Oak quietly left whatever project he was attending to alone, grabbed himself and Ash and his team a pitcher of iced lemonade, and took him out to the Oak home's back porch to sit down in weathered old wooden rocking chairs.

They had a fine view of the Corral, although Ash was quick to usher his friends out into the fields so they could stretch their legs a bit. It was too beautiful a day for them to hang around moping with him.

The roaming Nidoran herd rushed over, welcoming Nidoking with raucous grunts and chirps as he plodded over, and Seeker flapped her wings to fly above and playfully dart at the tiny poison-types. Bruiser smiled as he took a meditative pose and Torrent kept his eyes upon the dark clouds hovering over the sea.

A storm was coming.

"I'm tired."

Ash had said it again and again these past few days, repeating it almost like a mantra, but here in Pallet Town the truth of those words weighed down on Ash like an anchor.

Professor Oak's eyes softened as they drifted away from the distant storm front to settle upon Ash. "You have fought harder than you ever should have needed to, Ash. I'm sorry."

Ash opened his mouth to say something moderate, something practiced, but under Professor Oak's caring gaze it all came pouring out like one of Mt. Chimney's eruptions.

"Hoenn's a mess," Ash spat, recalling the smatterings of official correspondence that Steven had seen fit to send him. His mentor was careful to keep it to a minimum, but Ash had pressed and pressed for any major updates.

There was nothing much so far beyond the constant hunt for Brodie and a steady tear through Magma cells uncovered by Steven and Drake's invasion of the Mt. Chimney bunker.

No doubt there was more that Steven wasn't telling him just yet, but at least Ash had a small idea of what was going on there.

"Magma's fingers are in everything. Aqua's getting clobbered by the media. They and the League are about to explode at one another. And everyone's so busy fighting that nobody seems to give a damn that Groudon and Kyogre will be waking up any month now! The stupid world's falling apart!"

Professor Oak listened carefully to Ash's ranting, never interrupting except to nod along. The old man's eyes tracked Seeker's every move, although he paid careful attention to Weavile as well as the dark-type raced Oak's Arcanine across the Corral.

"And now Fino's gone too," Ash muttered as the wind was taken out of his sails. What was Flannery doing now? He gulped down lemonade as if it would quench the sudden stir of loss in his gut. "All that blood. And we spilled our fair share too."

Things had escalated so quickly…

Professor Oak sighed, shaking his head as he watched Seeker swoop at Weavile, chattering madly at him before he leapt in the direction she darted away to. The old man peered over at Ash.

"You know, Ash, a great man once told me that it's easy to look out into the world and see nothing but darkness. Cruelty, greed, and hatred are loud. Look for the quiet things: the helpers, the generous, the kind, and you will always find them," Professor Oak recited as if from some distant memory. "There are so many in the world who are selfish and would tear the whole world down for a scrap of power or wealth. But there are builders. Look for them, Ash, and the light will always grow brighter."

Ash soaked it all in and smiled. "You sound like Fino."

"I suppose I do," Professor Oak chuckled after a moment's thought, then sobered. "The world might never be the same when all is said and done. What lies slumbering beneath our feet weighs heavily on me. I can't deny that, Ash. Yet I must have faith that we will triumph. I must have faith that we will survive and see this through."

"That doesn't sound very scientific, Professor," Ash said with a laugh.

The old man's lips twitched.

"The world's a vast place, Ash, full of wonders and terrors alike. It's too big for any one man to control. But we all nudge it in our little ways," Professor Oak mused. "And a select few do not nudge, but shove. We will do what we can. Perhaps our collective efforts will poke things in the right direction. And if not…well, some things are simply out of our hands. It's only human to rail against the inevitable."

"Not only human," Ash said, thinking of his team and all their struggles. All that they had sacrificed.

"Well said," Professor Oak chuckled, though his features darkened. "The Last War seemed like an end."

Oak stared into his iced lemonade for a moment, lost in thought.

"The world turned dark and cruel. Kindness and decency and mercy seemed things of the past, relics of a bygone age," Oak said. "Everything we knew came crashing down…but when the dust settled, we found it was merely a transition. The closing of one chapter and the opening of the next."

Nidoking roared in the distance as a dozen tiny Nidoran of both sexes charged him valiantly, thrashing his tail as the little army did their best to poke at his legs with their immature horns. All was well and good until Weavile abandoned his chase of Seeker and came leaping onto Nidoking's back, deftly avoiding the great toxic ridges so that he could safely blow a puff of freezing mist into Nidoking's ear.

That just started another brawl. It wasn't long before the Flamethrower came out and the Nidoran scattered.

"What can we hope for if not a brighter future?" Oak finished, gesturing out at the Corral. "That is what we must believe in."

Professor Oak sounded even more like Fino at that moment. Ash's heart panged even as he bit his lip.

"The Legends are a little bigger than a war, Professor."

"And so they are," Professor Oak acknowledged. "They are seemingly insurmountable obstacles placed in our way. For all the challenges the world has seen fit to throw our way, however, I have just as much faith that it has gifted humanity those defenders who stand tall with the strength to weather them."

The old man shook his head.

"Perhaps the world will end! Who can say? But I know there are those who will fight until their last breath, eh?"

Ash slowly smiled as the Professor's oddly comforting words washed over him. They were bleak in their own way, but a fight…a fight was something that Ash could get behind!

Professor Oak rapped his knuckles idly on the aged wood of his chair. His eyes traced upon Ash's team, lingering particularly on Weavile and Seeker, who had decided to join the fight in Nidoking's favor by harassing Weavile with the occasional Air Slash.

"You have the literal weight of the world on your shoulders. A difficult prospect for anyone, let alone someone so young," Professor Oak mused. "Perhaps you need a new perspective. A way to distance yourself from it. A chance to look at things from the outside."

Ash let out a dry laugh and reached into the soil by his chair. He watched it fall between his fingers. Every little grain possessed Earth in miniature, a trace of that greater Concept in the same way that a drop of seaspray contained all the mercurial wrath of the Sea. "That's going to be a little difficult."

"Perhaps you're right," Professor Oak said. "But if I may offer a suggestion?"

"Of course."

"There is a place I always return to in my darkest times," Professor Oak said tentatively, a little note of something brimming beneath his calm mask. "A peaceful shrine in Ilex Forest that is more serene than any place I've ever known."

The ghost of a smile flickered across Professor Oak's lips.

"While I can't say it will help you ease the burden for long, I hope that you might find a minute or two of peace there before your troubles catch up with you. A respite from your toils, however brief it may be."

Ash felt the weight of the Land, the distant Roar of the Sea, and the Concepts woven into his being.

"You really think it will help?" Ash asked skeptically. He'd discovered plenty of peaceful places in his travels, be it the wilds of Fuchsia or the shores of the Lake of Rage. They might have a fury all of their own, but the simplicity of nature soothed him like nothing else.

"I do," Professor Oak said with certainty, a gleam in his eye. "You need time, yes? Time to think, time to heal, time to reflect upon yourself. You'll find it there. There aren't many things I can offer you to offset the great burden you carry, but I believe you will find a moment's rest."

Ash sent the Professor a searching look, but the old man's face was a pleasant mask. Yet his hands trembled as if he wished nothing more than to leap out of his old rocking chair.

Today was weird.

But he trusted Professor Oak with his life. If he thought this would help…

"Then that's that," Ash decided. "I'll give it a shot."

"Alakazam could take you," Professor Oak offered swiftly. "She's been aching to get out of Pallet for a spell. When will you be ready?"

"Give me just a minute," Ash said, rising from his chair to recall his team after he called out a quick warning to them. Weavile was happy to escape Seeker's harassment and Nidoking's incessant spray of Poison Stings and practically leapt towards his Pokéball.

Nidoking snorted with disappointment before the flash of light enveloped him.

Alakazam appeared from nowhere, stepping seamlessly into the space between them, and nodded at Ash.

He rose, a little surprised at just how eager Professor Oak was pushing him toward Ilex. "Tired of me already?"

"Not quite," Professor Oak looked like a young man again as he smiled. "I'm sure we'll see each other soon enough, Ash. Swing by Pallet when you've had your fill, eh?"

"Will do," Ash said, shaking his head at how weird the Professor was acting before Alakazam whisked him away.

XX

"So this is it, huh?"

Ash found himself placed within a serene meadow surrounded on all sides by great old trees.

He relished the sweet air drifting through Ilex Forest, filled with the soft dampness of old growth and the subtle scent of decaying wood, and smiled brightly as he took in the sights: mossy boulders, the gentle trickle of a distant creek, and the shine of late afternoon sun piercing the light canopy.

It would be dusk in an hour or two. Ash imagined the picturesque scene would look particularly striking in twilight's grasp.

"It's pretty nice," Ash mused, turning to face Alakazam. As he did, he blinked at the sight of a striking old shrine. It had certainly seen better days, he thought.

The shrine was practically overgrown with moss and trickling ivy that clung lovingly to the time-cracked old structure. Give it a few years and they'd bury it entirely.

It was surprisingly understated, but Ash couldn't deny the sense of peace that washed over him as he peered at the shrine. The carved stone seemed perfectly at home in the forest, awash in blooming life, but beneath the twining vines which crawled up its steep sides were ancient angular etchings.

Ash inspected it closely, frowning as he felt…something woven into the nature of the shrine, something strangely, intimately familiar but difficult to place. He brushed some of the ivy aside and caught sight of two mirrored etchings that reminded him faintly of an hourglass before rising.

"Well, thanks for taking me here," Ash said to Alakazam. "I appreciate the lift."

Her eyes flashed blue as her keen old mind connected with his own. Alakazam smiled beneath her bristly mustache.

It was my pleasure. Farewell…and see you soon.

And with that, Ash was left all alone.

He blinked—seriously, was there something weird in Pallet Town's water?—but sighed and knelt before the shrine, inspecting it more closely than before as he traced his fingers over the stylized hourglasses.

"Aren't you strange?" Ash murmured as he placed his palm against the shrine, reaching out to delve deeper into its mysteries. He closed his eyes and embraced the peace that radiated from the small structure. It reminded him of the protections woven into Regirock's tomb…

Old. Mighty. Built for eternity.

The leaves rustled all around him.

Ash forged a connection with the power within the shrine, felt vast flows of knowledge and memory and recollection brimming just beyond the reaches of his mind, and reached for it.

Stars lit before his eyes, and then he went beyond them.

Adamant rivers splitting, forking, diverging, each a self-contained infinity pushing ever forward, never backward.

Infinity infinity infinity pushing ever forward.

Ash rejected.

He didn't like to be pushed.

He fought.

He peered back, caught sight of the adamant globe from which every river was birthed—

The last thing Ash heard was the rustle of leaves—a fey giggle—before his exhausted mind collapsed into unconsciousness.

XX

"Hey."

Groan.

"Hey! You alright?"

Groan.

This was a bitch of a headache.

"Do you think he's dead?"

"Don't be stupid. He's just lazy. If he was any older I'd say he was hungover. But maybe…"

"Ow!" Ash groaned again as something jabbed him in the ribs. He snapped up with mind-splitting visions still pounding in his skull and swallowed down the acidic vomit in his mouth.

Ugh, was that what was dripping down his shirt? Gross.

Some trainer he was.

What was in that shrine? It wasn't near as powerful as Earth, at least not the sliver of infinity he'd peered into, but his brain felt as if it had just been squeezed through a sieve. Trying to recall any specifics left him wanting to vomit yet again.

"Hey, are you okay?" The first voice said again. Male. Young. Sounded like…Mint Chocolate Chip? Ash groaned something back. "That's a lot of puke, buddy. Did you eat anything weird? Or…drink anything? Hangovers are just dehydration, right? Maybe we can—"

"I'm not hungover!" Ash snarled.

"Oh, well there's one possibility settled. That means we're one wrong answer closer to the truth!"

The boy sounded all too pleased with that.

"You're such a nerd," the second voice, a girl, scoffed. She didn't sound half as pleased as the boy did. Ash groaned as that blunt object lightly poked him in the ribs again. A walking stick? "Hey, wake up. We're in the middle of the forest, dummy. We're not going to carry you."

"Charmeleon might! I bet Ivysaur could carry you as well. Perhaps if we construct a makeshift stretcher—"

"We're not doing that," the girl said flatly. "Open your eyes, lazybones. What kind of idiot sleeps out in the open like this? You're totally exposed. You're lucky an Ariados didn't come and lay its eggs in you. They do that, you know."

"No they don't," the boy whispered. "She's lying."

Ash squinted up and caught sight of bright golden curls before the girl's walking stick nudged him again.

"Stop that!" Ash scowled, dragging himself up off the shrine's stone floor with shaking arms. More vomit dribbled down his front. Ugh. He was not diving into the shrine's nature again any time soon.

Hadn't Oak said this was supposed to be a peaceful place?

Ash wasn't feeling very relaxed.

"Here, I have something you can use to clean yourself up!" The boy pressed a small rag into Ash's hand. Ash took it and sluggishly scrubbed away at his front, wrinkling his nose at the acrid smell. "Uh, you can keep that one. I have five more stored away! Towels are a necessity for any traveler, don't you think?"

"Yeah, they're really useful," Ash said with a grunt as he heaved himself up on wobbly legs. Everything was too bright, too intense, and the glaring morning sun—

Morning?

How long had Ash been out?!

"What time is it?" Ash grumbled, finally peering at the two trainers in front of him. Each appeared to be around his age or perhaps a little older. One was a girl in a bright purple dress with golden curls and mismatched eyes, a shiny new walking stick in her right hand, and the other was—Ash's brow furrowed. "Gary?"

The boy blinked and awkwardly scratched at his head of dark brown hair as he looked quizzically at Ash.

No, not Gary, Ash realized.

His hair was the same shade but a different style. His features were similar but softer, kinder, and there was an openness to his friendly gaze that Gary had never possessed.

Also, Gary would never be caught dead in this kid's outfit. Those green pants and safari-style tan shirt had been outdated decades ago, and Ash doubted they'd even been popular then.

"He's alive!" The girl mocked with her hands on her hips. Ash thought she sounded a little more relieved to see him up and moving than she let on. "Lucky you."

"Lucky me," Ash said, but his eyes remained fixated on the boy…and probably a little too much given how uncomfortable the boy appeared. "Sorry, you look just like someone I know."

The boy perked up. "Maybe you've met my cousin before! He's a trainer too."

"Maybe," Ash allowed, although he wasn't sure if Gary had any cousins. He tried to focus his bleary eyes on the Gary-doppelganger and shook his head as he reached his hand out. It was a little surprising that two young trainers in Johto didn't seem to recognize him, but Ash supposed he was a terrible mess right now. "Sorry about that. I'm feeling a bit better now. My name's Ash."

"I'm not touching that hand," the girl said, looking pointedly at the little bits of bile that had dripped onto the appendage. Ash flushed and quickly wiped the nasty stuff off on the towel the boy had so graciously given to him. "But nice to meet you too. Especially now that you look a lot less dead than you did a minute ago."

Ash snorted. "Thanks."

The boy politely refused the handshake as well, but his eyes lit up as he saw the row of Pokéballs on Ash's belt.

"I haven't seen that model before!" The boy exclaimed, more fixated on the Pokéballs now than Ash. He coughed as the girl lightly poked him in the gut with her walking stick. She seemed to take a little too much pleasure in that, Ash thought. "Oh, I'm sorry for forgetting my manners. Sammy Oak at your service!"

Ash blinked. "Sammy Oak?"

"Correct!" Sammy reaffirmed with an emphatic nod, rapping his knuckles against the five antiquated Pokéballs on his belt. "I'm a second-year trainer. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ash!"

Sammy motioned to the girl. Ash had a sinking feeling in his gut as he really looked at her.

One black eye and one blue stared back at him.

"This is—"

"Aggie. I don't need you to speak for me," Agatha said primly, swatting Sammy's hand away as she peered at Ash, frowning. "What are you?"

"Well that's rude," Sammy huffed. He smiled merrily at Ash, tapping again at the old Pokéballs. The other boy seemed utterly delighted with the strange turn their day had taken.

Was Ash dreaming?

He had to be.

Perhaps he'd delved into one too many Concepts and this was his brain's last hallucination as it melted into a puddle. Dazed had been not-so-subtly warning him about that for a while.

That would explain all the vomit.

But then Sammy raised a well-loved Pokéball to Ash. "Well, if you're feeling better…what do you say to a battle? Charmeleon could use a good workout, and you strike me as a strong trainer. My Abra might be up for a fight as well! She's kind of lazy though."

"I'm decent, I guess," Ash said, grinning despite the utter insanity staring him in the face right now. A young Professor Oak...Ash's hand drifted to Infernus' Pokéball. "I'll take you up on that."

If this was a dream, then at least Ash could comfortably say that it was a good one.

A/N: Wow, do you know how long I've been waiting for this?

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It was challenging to write in some places—Fino and Durand both grew on me more than I could have imagined, and I wanted to do both their characters (and those new ones that we got to meet) justice this chapter. I think we've seen more Gardevoir this chapter than in all of Traveler lol. Fitting, I suppose, given the theme of the chapter.

I hope you enjoyed the story and would love to hear your thoughts :)

Oh, before I forget: I've rewritten Chapter 1: The Rookie and posted it to AO3 under the name 'TheStraightElf'. There's a link on the discord in case you haven't seen it already. This is a long term project but I'm very happy with how it's turned out. The quality better reflects what Traveler has become and I highly recommend checking it out if you're interested!

Before I answer a few FAQ's from last chapter to help contextualize or elaborate on some things regarding the Ash and Fino vs. Durand fight that might not have come across as clearly in the text, I did want to make it clear that while Traveler has its dark moments and troubles for Ash and his friends, this story is not intended to become grimdark all of a sudden.

Moments like what happened with Fino and Durand are the exception, not the norm. Traveler will be retaining a similar tone as to what you've seen so far. This was just one moment of many.

Anyways! On to the FAQ. Many of these explanations are also littered throughout the chapter, but some didn't have a place to appear naturally. Some I can't answer in full since it would spoil later events, but I'm going to provide as much information as possible.

1. Why didn't Fino call for the Hunters immediately? Why did the fight escalate so much?

Fino saw potential in the Aquas as allies and is well-aware of Durand's past and temperament. He was ready to call for the Hunters at a moment's notice, but if he could go back in time then he wouldn't have even called for Ash. Based on Durand's interactions with Ash and the information that Ash has provided, Fino felt reasonably confident that Durand would not attack without reason, and wanted to use this as an opportunity for outreach with Aqua.

Fino was wary but optimistic. He wanted to build further relations—on his own and with only Gym Trainers for support, Fino could have let her go without a fight, although he wanted to gain everything he could first (such as why she was here).

When Ash arrived and tipped the scales (which put Durand on edge) he was still able to shoot for peace. But when Brodie killed a Gym Trainer and League blood was spilled, there had to be consequences. Fino couldn't justify just letting Durand go any longer. The League had to get something from this altercation.

We ultimately saw what happened when the Hunters arrived (although Grey certainly didn't help): control slipped out of Fino's hands. Durand was immediately pushed even farther. The Hunters HAVE to take her in and Fino can't intervene. But Durand would never allow herself to be taken into Lumiose custody, so things continue to escalate.

2. How did Durand fend off Fino and Ash at once?

I addressed this somewhat in the chapter, but there are two important things to remember: the battle last chapter took place over just a few minutes (although the amount of words required to track thirty combatants is insane, which is why these chaotic battles are some of my least favorite to write) and Durand is deadly.

There is no world in which Durand wins a two-on-one battle against Ash and Fino. She was going for a fighting retreat until her escape routes were closed off, hoping that she could apply enough pressure to keep the League off her and allow her and (ideally) her Aqua team to escape.

Durand's specialized for lethal combat. There's a handy quote I've used to explain what it's like to fight her for real: "In a knife fight, the loser dies in the street, and the winner dies in the hospital."

She wasn't outright trying to kill from the beginning (although she was willing to inflict lethal wounds if it meant that a combatant could be removed from the battlefield, like when Shiftry slit one of Fino's teammates throats) but to equalize the scales with offense and ideally take a vulnerable human hostage to regain control (as she did with Ash later on when she had nowhere to run).

A vast majority of Ash and Fino's strength was tied up in protecting the squishy humans and the Lavaridge Gym Trainers from Durand's team. They couldn't focus on offense as much as they ordinarily would have.

3. Why did Durand fight?

Also addressed somewhat in this chapter, but once the ill-disciplined Aquas (who were already antsy being faced down by Fino, let alone Ash) joined in on the crossfire between Brodie and the Magcargo, and with a Gym Trainer dead, Durand felt like there was no way out but through violence.

She still didn't intend to kill if possible, as mentioned before, but she knew the League would be forced into action and didn't intend on being captured. Also, crazy PTSD from all the fires weren't helping her thinking (thanks a lot, Malva).

Otherwise, there are certainly aspects of the battle that I would like to fix up as well. It certainly isn't perfect and I made mistakes in some areas, although some are just down to conservation of detail being a necessity even in Traveler.

If you have any additional questions I am happy to answer them to the best of my ability if you reach out! You can either leave it in a review, PM me, or message me on Discord :) Last chapter was a massive moment in the fic and I'm always happy to elaborate on things to the best of my ability.

As always, thank you so much for reading! We're almost at 11,000 reviews which is absolutely crazy.

I'll be traveling a bit during the second half of this month so the next chapter is likely to come out in August.