"Terrible idea." I insist. "This is an absolutely terrible idea."
Minerva and Fang remain dead-set on the humble looking Fuschia gym in the distance, barring double grins.
"Spritz us up." Fang says, building into a chant. His tail is waving like crazy, the late-night, post-battle rush filling him with dangerous recklessness. "Spritz us up."
I'm sure he means for the team to echo the sentiment, but no one else on the team's joining in. Hycanith smacks her bone against her hand nonetheless, which is her own kind of agreement. Reginae picks my Pokegear out of my bag and Fang tugs it away with Psychic, using his paws best he can to navigate to the map function.
"This is even better than I thought," he laughs. "It's purple. That's my favorite color."
"Can you even read?" I ask, taking the Pokegear back from him.
"Uh? No. But you can." Fang snorts. "So. What does it say?"
"Poison-type. Run by Janine... Koga's daughter."
The whole team erupts into excited fury at this. Koga was one of our easiest Elite Four wins by far, and we have no less than four Pokemon with super-effective tactics. Given that Poison-types go hand in hand with bug-types, we can bump that right up to five.
"Looks like I'm sitting this one out." Reginae says, "Should be easy, though. I say we go for it."
I can help. Ethan insists.
"Do you think dragging him into a League mandated battle is a smart move?" asks Reginae.
"More importantly, will he fit in that little hut over there?" asks Minerva.
"Gyms are supposed to be large enough to fix the likes of Onix and Gyarados, so I'd imagine so." I say. "You know what? This is probably a stupid move, but let's just do it. Let's go for it!"
Hycanith and Minerva form the front guard while Fang trots along behind them, bouncing up and down with an enthusiasm I thought he'd lost in the aftermath of Pisces's...
If anyone could recover from a death like that, it would be him.
Reginae and Ten are having their own conversation up ahead. From the feel of it through the collective bond, I can make out the gist of it- strategy. It's become all too easy to communicate without words, since we can sense each other's feelings, but all of my Pokemon are chattery know-it-alls with glib tongues. Humor necessitates precise diction, and hence, it necessitates that we keep talking.
Ethan shudders at my side. We're close to the building now. I go over our personal strategy: "Stay calm, stay controlled. This won't be like the biker battles- these Pokemon will be aiming for you, and it'll be one on one. Do you think you can handle that?"
... yes. Ethan's eyes flick over mine. It's hard to keep consistent with his pace, since he's moving one massive hang and then dragging his entire body across the earth, so I have to jog forwards and then slow to a snail's pace every two minutes. The effort of his struggle wracks my body, and I feel my breath catch with his every time some new, startled civilian comes out and sees our menagerie with him at the center. They're staring at me.
"They can't see you for you on the inside. Don't let them get to you." I tell him, though it sounds hollow and campy even to my own ears.
On the inside, I'm collapsing. Inside is worse.
He takes another step and stops himself short at the foot of the gym. The architecture is traditional and smells of wood and strange spice, though the pungent underscent of panic and blood from past battles is detected by my two canines at once. The building is bigger than it appeared from a distance, though it still has to open all the way at the front to accommodate larger Pokemon. The roof and the top of the door are so close to each other that they're almost touching, and Ethan is even with the slab of space in between. He lowers himself, squaring his shoulders and bringing his massive neck level with the rest of his body, and is able to squeeze himself through the entrance. I stand beneath his chest, hand on his hand as I lead him through.
The gym itself is plain- in fact, it's almost completely empty, save for mats on the floor and one or two windows. From around the room, eight brown-haired women turn, their reflection warped just enough for me to sense that something is not right here. What's more unsettling, they all seem to have the same appearance, down to the clothes and hairstyle.
"We were about to close up, too." tsks one of the Janines. One of these must be the real Fuschia gym leader... but which one?
"Forget that. Lemme at em-" Minerva jumps and hits an invisible wall, staggering back. "Argh! What the heck is that?!"
"You can't see them?" ask Ten and Fang in unison.
I squint, and the hazy pink glow of psychic energy lingers in the air. Scattered throughout the room are barriers, not unlike the ones used in Light Screen and Reflect attacks. I bite my lip, trying to trace a path around them mentally. Though I hesitate to use Celebi's power for something mundane as working my way through a maze, I don't need to see the future to know that the "real" Janine will likely be at the very end.
With all these psychic tricks, it's hard to see how this qualifies as a poison gym.
Exasperated, I add, "They go all the way up to the ceiling. I can imagine the whole room being big enough for Ethan to battle, but when it's cut up like this? No way." I turn back to him, and ask, "Do you want to watch?"
Explanations. Ethan insists.
"After this. Promise." I say. "Tonight."
His eyes narrow into a leer, but he lowers his smaller back legs and rests on hand over the other. He bends down into what must be the most comfortable resting position he can manage.
My Pokemon are off like a shot. Minerva walks at a dignified rate behind Fang, who scopes out the area ahead with his head ring aglow. With pride, he turns the corners and brings us to our first trainer.
"Janine" spins around and the disguise falls from her, revealing a much shorter girl with black pigtails and a camper's uniform. "Hello! Welcome to the gym, challenger. You ready for the first taste of what the Poison type can do?"
(Yeah, I think we've seen plenty of poison-types.)
Ten provides the girl with a taste of what the Flying-type can do, knocking out her Beedrill in two quick hits of Air Slash. The girl withdraws her Pokemon and points to the left with a disappointed pout. I'm guessing it's supposed to be a hint for Pokemon trainers who have spent forever bumbling around in the invisible maze, but my Pokemon have got me covered. We continue on, meeting several more "Janines", but not a one is anything resembling a challenge. Minerva, surprisingly, manages to show some restraint.
"I'm saving my fire." she informs me, not catching my gaze.
"Alright," I say. Through the fields of barriers, I can see one last Janine: behind her, at the exit, is Ethan. His eyes are half-closed but he's not asleep. His eye, gray like a stormcloud, catches mine. Fear ripples up my limbs, threatening to freeze me on the spot. I have to remind myself that he's on our side to calm down.
"Uh, Ashley? Ashley?" asks Ten.
"What?"
"Mind keeping your eyes on the prize here?" Minerva finishes his sentiment. "We're here."
Janine manages a smile, but it hangs unnaturally on her face, in no way complemented by her concerned eyes or furrowed brows. "So... you wouldn't happen to be the Ashley Hart who challenged the Indigo Plateau a few months back, would you?"
"That would be me." I reply.
Janine holds out a Poke Ball. "Well, I suppose I'm going to have to take you out, then. For the old man. Koga was pretty adamant about your skills. Most trainers don't make it past him." She shrugs, "At the very least, not in one piece. Seems like your team is more or less the same."
I don't answer. I hold out a pointed hand. "Ten."
"Tempest." she replies, hurling her Poke Ball like a smoke bomb at the ground. A Crobat soars out onto the battleground, face curved into a frown, and its dark coloration makes it look like more shadow than substance. It doesn't hesitate- thankfully, neither does Ten.
The Crobat's wings glow a blinding white and it zips past Ten, cutting him up in a fury of strikes, but after Ten's taken the first hit he uses the Crobat's own momentum against it, catching it with a Psychic attack and throwing it into a barrier behind us. I try to reach out to him as the Crobat recovers, hoping for an assist, but the bond is heavier than usual. It's like reaching through gelatin instead of water.
The distraction catches us both and the Crobat breathes out a torrent of acid. My lungs burn, though it could be from the connection or just breathing in a bit of the attack. Ten, who took the brunt of the attack, narrows his eyes and with another Psychic, slams the Crobat into the ground. He alights on the battlefield, wings spread wide, and tries to muffle his coughing.
The Crobat doesn't get up.
Janine nods and clicks open another Poke Ball, sending out a Weezing. The smell of sulfur fills the room. Reginae's petals look a little wilted, while Minerva and Fang are pulling the most incredible expression. Hycanith is still slamming her stick against her hand, impatiently.
"Later," I assure her.
"We'll see if we can squeeze you in around me, hon." Minerva says, drawling on the last word with sickly sweetness. With none of the same affection, she yells, "Hey! Hurry it up out there, won'tcha?"
Ten's happy to oblige. He's not moving quite as fast as before- the poison took more of an effect than I might have first thought- but he still has enough in him to avoid most of the Weezing's attacks. As the pain mounts in his lungs, he lets out a high, shrill cry and charges cloaked in fire. Janine and the Weezing both don't see it coming until he's on top of them, flame covered talons scouring marks against the enemy. The Weezing falls like a burning zeppelin, smoke coming from its mouth as it makes its slow descent to the earth.
Ten lands, wings ablaze, and I know I've seen the technique used somewhere before. The likeness is striking.
Bronze.
"I can handle it," Ten insists before I can call him back.
I lift a hand to my chest. "Whether or not you think you can handle it, the poison's going to handle you in a few turns. Get back here."
"Fine," Ten grumbles, strutting off, and collapses on one of his last steps. Fang drags him the rest of the way off, worry in his red eyes. I get to work with Potions, and Minerva, unwilling to skip a beat, prances forwards.
A bone hits her in the back of the head. Hycanith's bone.
Minerva turns.
Hycanith points a finger to herself.
"Bet I can do it faster." Minerva says.
Hycanith doesn't budge an inch. Then, as Minerva draws back, Hycanith steps forwards. An Ariados, foul mandibles wide and mouth bubbling with poison, scuttles forwards. Hycanith twirls her bone around her head and slings it towards the Ariados. It hits it straight in the head and comes back to Hycanith, who throws it again. With the next direct hit, the Ariados halts, its compound eyes gone glassy.
Janine sends out another, just as nasty-looking as the first.
"My turn." Minerva says, and lets forth all the fire she's been holding back. It only takes her one hit to dispel her foe. She prances back towards us, all nine tails undulating in a soft wag. "Well?"
Hycanith makes a soft chuff. Maybe it's just hard to tell beneath the mask, but she doesn't seem all that disappointed.
Ten hops forwards. "I'm recovered."
"Maybe in hit points and condition, but you're still injured."
"Not very." he protests.
"Enough to have me concerned, featherbrain." I say. "Minerva, care to finish us up?"
Janine's Venomoth has the good sense to dodge the first Fire Blast. Minerva shoots more fire, but the Venomoth ducks below it and flies in a corkscrew out into the center of the battlefield.
I reach out again, hoping to help Minerva's agility, but I can't quite reach her either. I sense a presence behind my back, something dark and foreboding, and snap out of my mind's eye.
I'll deal with this later.
Minerva finally gets a hit in, and the Venomoth backs up, fire singing its wings. The Ninetales takes its hasty retreat as an opportunity and goes for a melee attack, ignoring the silvery scales filtering over her fur. The Venomoth's last attack peters out into dust on the wind, and Minerva takes a deep breath.
I sigh with her, and sense a third breath at the back of my throat. I take two steps to turn around and see him there, feeling his presence stronger than ever. He's breathing like he fought part of the battle himself.
Was he trying to assist in some way, or just to enter the golden fray of bonds that makes up the team? Was he doing anything consciously at all?
"Ms. Hart." Janine says. "I'm afraid I'm not quite the battler my father is. Hopefully you can take this badge regardless." She hands it to me, and I force myself to keep her gaze even as Ethan's low buzz of energy makes my head feel like it's about to implode.
Ashley. That's what he called you earlier. The owl.
"What?" I ask.
"What?" asks Janine.
"Sorry. I'm tired."
"Oooh. Me too."
But that's not her name. That's not her name.
"Who?" I insist. "Who are you talking about?"
"Uh... who are you talking to?" Janine asks me.
"Pokemon." I mutter.
"Yeah, you should probably get on the sleeping thing."
I give her an unreassuring thumbs up and manage to only hit myself once on the way out. The headache just keeps picking up (and up, and up), and Ethan doesn't look much better off than I am.
The girl who lives in the house in New Bark, next to mine. Her name is Lyra. Lyra Gold.
That's her. That must be the name of the girl I replaced.
I hold a hand to my head.
"He can't hold out much longer. Doesn't have that kind of stamina." Reginae says. "You're going to have to let him go."
"I- I promised." I say.
"Can you at least bring us back?" Minerva asks. "It feels like there's a Pokemon battle going on in the inside of my skull."
"That's Minerva for you, always has to make it about battling. It's more like... Beedrill. Beedrill, everywhere." Fang describes, a faraway look in his eyes.
I withdraw them both, then Ten, Hycanith, and eventually Reginae.
The blistering pain subsides a little, if only because I'm not also experiencing the echo of my Pokemons' headaches in addition to my own. The night around us flickers with dim light from street lamps. The air is so fresh it feels almost raw on my lungs, a relief from the toxic smog of the gym, but it stirs something fearful within me. It's the type of night that is so large that you can't help but feel small, and the lack of proper lighting makes the sky overhead loom even larger over our heads.
There is no one here to see us.
"Okay. Time for the truth." I tell Ethan. "You and I- we can see the timelines. I know you can, because at first you couldn't even talk to us without speaking across them. I thought it was part of Celebi's powers at first, but it turns out legendaries tend to be pretty good at it in general. Their consciousness transcends worlds. They exist in all of them at once, undivided by splits in the timeline."
I have to shut them off- like squeezing eyes shut. Infinite eyes. Ethan agrees. I can sense him opening eyes in the shadows, unfurling, and I open my own sense of time to join him. We talk in the space between near-perfect parallel worlds, where almost nothing has changed. For me, it's a strain, but for him, it's a relief.
"Infinite worlds. Now, in one of those worlds, I started a journey two years ago in our world's time. A long one- and I failed. All my Pokemon died. The world was destroyed."
Your Ethan, he realizes.
"My Ethan." Trying not to choke on my own breath, I continue, "Celebi brought me here for a second chance. I don't know what it did to the timeline."
My Lyra. he continues. Me.
I'm shivering. It's cold, sure, but this comes from somewhere else, deep inside of me. Fear. He doesn't move but I sense something, as if he's cracking from within. I feel his collapsing lungs, the mismatched teeth, each joint- an inescapable pain spanning worlds. "I didn't do anything on purpose. I never asked-" I say.
Ethan is struggling to breathe. I think of pancakes, of summers in New Bark, of the two of us sitting on the windy edge of town- he's thinking of a girl I don't know, who wears her hair up in pigtails and shares my smile but not my eyes- the old scar on the side of my face burns, warning me-
So many mistakes.
So many, many mistakes.
Five minutes.
He doesn't even sound like my Ethan. The amalgamation of man and beast looks skywards- no- he is the sky. He is the sky, glittering with mottled starlight. Even in the broken-glass splinters of both forms reflected in his mutilated body, there is a strength and a beauty there that I can feel coursing through me. I sense, at the edge of my vision, other worlds, bought here by the connection we share.
Ten was right. He would do the same for me. More than that.
What do I have to spare? What's my great sacrifice? Five minutes. I give him five minutes to grieve.
Alone.
"Okay."
(A/N: I won't lie: this one was hard to get through. Still I was proud of how it turned out, hopefully that last bit isn't too confusing. Anyways I'd say we have about twenty-or-so chapters left and from what I have planned, I can tell you the end is going to be one hell of a ride. Expect Red, reunions, and really, really intense feelings. All the good shit! The plan, for those of you who don't keep up with my random book (and I don't blame you) is to be done with this book in April. I'm going to be cranking out upwards of 3.33k words a month every day for a month, in NaNo 2 Electric Boogaloo. I can't see this going badly, ahaha... Wish me luck.)
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