EVERYONE: Luceat Lux Vestra

[silurica]

Chapter 1: The Man in White
​

…The flowing time… The expanding space… The intertwining spiral…

…This disturbance…

…

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"Okay! This looks good enough now. Thank you for helping me dry it, Celia."

Celia the Cyndaquil puffs her chest with pride. The painter scratches the backside of the fire mouse Pokémon's neck – their fingers twitch when they come into contact with her back, still warm from the heat she produced, followed by a chuckle. Even when the painter moves on to the less exciting part of their work – cleaning their brushes, packing them and the palette – the sense of comfort from having the Cyndaquil by their side keeps them humming to themself.

Now the painter slips the sketchbook into the safety of their backpack. Those sketches will make good references in the future, and they are proof that they have been at the top of Mt. Coronet. Just thinking about it fills their chest with excitement. Or so they hope, and not some kind of sickness from being in a place this high above sea level.

Yes, here is the summit of Mt. Coronet, Spear Pillar. Here are the ivory pillars, piercing through the heavens. There is the altar, where pilgrims of the past made offerings. And here, in the painter's hand, is the Azure Flute, a heart-shaped flute said to be able to summon a deity.

The painter begins looking around for a certain set of tiles with flute engraving. They are certain they have spotted it earlier when they scouted the area. They squint. Celia the Cyndaquil squints too – her face wrinkles with the effort.

Ah, there it is! Celia tags along by the painter's feet, perhaps excited to see what the flute would bring too. The painter crouches down to inspect the tiles. How curious; the image of the flute is still well-defined despite its supposed age. Tracing it with a finger, they say, "I wonder what will happen? The Celestic Codex said it's part of an ancient ritual for… oh, there I go talking to myself again. It's probably nothing. Isn't that right, Celia?"

That's right. Myths are nothing more than stories, so there is no way that playing a flute will make a glass staircase appear and summon a god from some kind of heaven. Implausible. Yet they still wish to play the enigmatic instrument before descending from the mountain. After all, there is a chance that it will activate some special mechanism or some other secret that suits the divine atmosphere of the location. Although it's likelier that there will be nothing at all, and their mentor has said that nothing, too, is data.

So the painter stands up and blows air into the flute—

"Dear me, please pipe down, you are terrible."

A voice. Who? Where? Oh! There is a movement from behind the altar! The painter pushes up their glasses, hoping to focus better on the figure on the other side of the historical site.

It's a man. A man with long hair and a strikingly white appearance. White skin, white hair, white suit, white shoes…. The only different colors are his dark gray waistcoat, the golden details of his suit and heeled boots, and his bright red eyes.

"Who… are you?" the painter blurts out without thinking. "...And why did you say I was terrible? I've only played a few notes!"

"Quiet, will you? I know how that flute is supposed to sound in the right hand." The man sits himself on the altar.

"What are you talking about? This is a super rare antique flute, only a few people have seen it! Just who are you?" demands the painter again. "Also don't sit there! That's a precious artifact!"

"You don't recognize me, ignorant human? I am Arceus, the creator deity of this world."

The flute falls from the painter's hand at that second. ("Ah!" The man shrieks, "My flute!") This man in white suddenly appeared, in a place that they could swear was empty when they checked, and he claimed to be what?

He gives them the stink eye as he asks, "You don't believe me, do you? I can see it written on your face."

"No! I mean! This is all too sudden!"

"Such a shame, after I have taken a form easier for your kind to relate with."

"Give me… give me a moment to think," says the painter as they pick up the flute from the floor. "Look, let me put it this way. For all I know, you could be bluffing, tricking a poor student like me. Why should I trust you? Where is your proof that you're god?"

The man lapses into silence following that question. After a while, he nods and says, "Very well. You have a point, human. I shall demonstrate that I'm not one of your kind." He steps down from the altar, toward the painter. "Tell me, do you have one of those hollowed out fruits where you can keep creatures in?"

"Hollowed… fruits? Apricorn? Oh! You mean a Poké Ball? Wait a second." The painter begins looking in their bag while Celia peeks in, curious. Medicine, food, dry clothes, sketchbook, art supplies… Ah! Found the Poké Ball pocket! They open it and see… they have nothing but a Premier Ball which they got for free at a Poké Mart.

"Oh, that is fine. I like that color," he comments. He must have seen their despairing face.

"Well, if you say so. Here."

The man doesn't take the Poké Ball from the painter's hand. What the man does instead is press the button on the ball with a finger, letting himself be engulfed by a red light. In a near instant, he has become particles to be absorbed into the ball.

"Eh? What?! H-H-He just— Celia, did you see that?!" asks the painter, their voice a barely contained shriek. Their Cyndaquil partner nods vigorously.

In this Poké Ball, the strange man in white has been captured. Captured? Is that the right word now? They turn and spin the Pokéball in panic. "W-What should I do? What should I— Oh, right! Look at the registered data!" They turn the Pokéball around again to see the status screen of the captured… creature….

It doesn't display anything. The screen only blinks and flickers. Oh. Oh no. Of course it would be like this. Of course. The data is corrupted since the Pokéball doesn't recognize what it just captured!

Nothing that can be done now except to try releasing the man. Hopefully he won't turn into even more of an oddball after this. The painter didn't know it was possible to capture a human before. They still can't believe their eyes. Is that even possible? Is this man actually…. Ah, geez. Let's not think about it too hard now.

And the Poké Ball is flicked into the air. It releases the red light again – and the painter is sure they didn't make a mistake here – the light took a shape at least as tall as the pillars, before shrinking down to the shape of that man in white. The man simply looks at them and asks, "Do you believe me now, human?"

"Y-Yes, sir. No ordinary human would be able to enter the Poké Ball."

Ah, he is still looking. They keep the ball and the flute close to their heart, protecting the objects and themself from this possible deity. Celia is also observing from behind their legs.

"Human," he says again, "I shall honor you with the opportunity to assist me."

"Er, sorry?"

"I sense a disturbance in this world. It appears my children have woken me up, unable to fix it on their own, the poor things. But I need all seventeen of my plates to restore my power first. Accompany me on a journey to gather them."

"What? Why me?" they protest. This is too sudden!

"Why? Because you are here," he answers calmly. "You reached the peak of this mountain. You will make a capable servant."

Too calm, in fact. They just met, didn't they?

"Human, what is your name?"

"I'm Luca." They point at the Cyndaquil by their feet. "And this is my partner, Celia."

He nods. "I see you are a Child of Light."

"Child of…? Oh, I guess my name does mean ‘light'...." They trail off as they come to a conclusion: an oddball will remain an oddball. "Anyway, are you not going to take this flute?"

"No need, that flute is a tool meant to be wielded by a human. You should practice playing it, however."

Luca rolls their eyes. When they put away the used Poké Ball, their eyes stop at the Azure Flute. Oh, that's right. They remember now. If what this man said had a semblance of truth in it, their mentor would know. So if they took the man to meet him….

"Well, I guess I don't mind accompanying you. I happen to be traveling in this region and I'm interested in these plates too." They wrap the flute in a piece of thick cloth and put it inside a box, which then goes into the backpack with everything else. "But I need to go to Oreburgh City first to restock and meet up with someone."

"Fine by me. We can start the search around the area."

"Okay, let's go. Celia, light the way."

Just when Luca and Celia are about to re-enter Mt. Coronet's dark cavern, the man calls out, "Child of Light, where do you intend to go?"

Luca stops, turning around toward the man again. "Me? Please don't call me that. I'm going to descend by foot, of course. This place is too far high. Between the cold temperature, thin air, harsh weather, and the weight of our bodies, it would be unsafe for a bird Pokémon to fly us down from here."

"I see. You are a considerate person."

"Oh? Is that so?" They raise an eyebrow; was that a compliment?

When the painter least expects it, the man lifts them up. "Hm?" He mumbles, "You are light."

"Huh? Huh?! What are you doing?! Put me down!" they demand, flailing like a freshly caught Magikarp.

"It's fine, leave the transportation to me," he says, showing no sign of struggle. He turns his gaze toward the Cyndaquil. "Little one, climb up to me." Celia, unsure of what is happening, decides to follow his order.

A flash of light, and a golden wheel adorned with green jewels forms, circling him. The sclera of his eyes turn the same shade of green, and green circles appear below his eyes. A gentle wind blows to envelope him. Gravity loses its grip. His suit, his long hair, and at last his feet too lightly float in the air.

Luca has stopped struggling. They realized: if they let go of him now, something bad may happen. And they have many questions for their mentor now; about the world, about history, about the beings once called gods.

In a flash, they have sped through the clouds and winds and arrived at the foot of Mt Coronet, and the smoking chimneys of Oreburgh City's mine and factories are now within sight.

 

[silurica]

Chapter 2: A Museum and a Professor​

Oreburgh City, the City of Energy. The rocky city is notable for its coal production, which powers the southwest area of the Sinnoh region. Accordingly, the city's landscape, people, and daily life are shaped by it.

Today, a man in white is staring at one of the pipes sticking out from the ground of the city. He stands unmoving even when a couple of mine workers walk by and whisper about him. Not even a Starly taking roost on his head can make him budge.

"You… what are you doing?"

The Starly flies away as the man turns around to see his traveling companion: a bespectacled painter with bobbed hair, and a Cyndaquil by their side. "You are back, Child of Light." He points at the pipe. "Tell me, what is this? I can sense the air moving…"

"My name is Luca," corrects the painter while following the man's finger. "Ah, that's an air vent for circulating fresh air in the mines and the Underground. Those vents are all over this region."

"I see."

"You didn't know?"

The man stares off for a moment before answering, "This town is still a mining town as I remember it, but nothing like this existed the last time I was awake." He gives another look at the air vent. "And it is not only this pipe. The buildings and the conversations too…"

Ah, that's it. Luca already suspected it from their conversation at the Spear Pillar: if this person is truly a god, he is not an all-knowing one. Well, he is still suspicious, but all the things he demonstrated were…

"I'm just… impressed. Yes, I'm impressed that humans did not destroy the world while I was asleep." He says while caressing the vent. "The opposite, in fact."

"What do you think we are? Barbarians?" replies Luca flatly. Celia pouts as well. The man in white says nothing about it.

Seeing him and the vent, an idea pops into Luca's mind. "Oh, I know! Why don't you visit the museum? You can catch up with local history there!"

"Museum?"

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A few minutes later, they arrive at a large building. A sign before the entrance bears the museum's name and motto: Oreburgh Mining Museum – Coal Mining and You. From outside of the entrance, one can get a glimpse of an enormous slab of coal. "The entry is free," says Luca. "Well then, I will be seeing you again in an hour."

"Won't you come too?" asks the man.

"Ah, no. I have to restock my supplies and there is someone I need to meet. Well, I'll explain about that later. You'll see. I'm definitely not abandoning you here."

The man crosses his arms. Luca merely shrugs.

With all that said, the man steps into the cool, air-conditioned building. The small painter had a point: a historical museum is a good starting point to familiarize himself with the world again. He begins taking in the sights.

The large slab of coal, it appears, is the main exhibit of the museum – the man in white stands out next to the pitch blackness, even more so than usual. The series of exhibits explaining how coal is made not only tells him nothing new, but is also heavily simplified – he catches himself tutting at it. The mineral exhibits fill him with a sense of pride with their beauty and complexity. He spends the longest gazing at the exhibits displaying workers' tools, arranged by age, old and new, puzzle pieces for him to imagine the time he missed.

Eventually he makes his way back to the entrance. Fossils are displayed here, near the information desk. From the corner of his eye, he spots a visitor handing another fossil over to the employee behind the counter. A trade? A donation? Whatever it is, the employee brings it into the back room. Humans, they are never satisfied by their hoard. The man nods to himself while pretending to admire a dome fossil. A few minutes later, the employee returns carrying a lizard-like Pokémon which went extinct in an age long past.

The man freezes in realization.

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Meanwhile, Luca has returned to the museum with a new companion. "Yes, Professor! I had him wait here. He shouldn't be hard to…." Their voice trails off as they see a man, his attire strikingly white, arguing with an employee at the information desk. "He's not hard to find at all!!"

"How dare you" – he speaks in the tone of a stern preacher – "to deny the presence of a higher being watching your actions."

"Pardon me, sir! We're only doing our job here! Yes, that's so! Any other question?"

"As I said—"

"Ahh, what is going on here?!" interrupts Luca.

"Child of Light, this person before us here is a heretic."

"A heretic?" They look at the employee, then around the information desk. A poster plastered on the wall caught their attention: Fossil Restoration Service. A realization dawned, followed by a frown.

"Do you see it, Child of Light? I think I should—"

"Please forgive my cousin," says Luca to the employee with a bow, "The region he came from has no fossil restoration technology yet. This is new to him." The man gives a protesting look, but they only mutter, "Come on, you apologize too."

The employee scratches his head and sighs. "Well, if that's the case… I'll forget about it this time. So," his tone shifts back, "how about you? Do you have any fossils for me to restore? Or are you here to waste my time too? Honestly!"

"Ah, I don't have any, sorry. We will take our leave now." They give another bow to the employee and pull the man's arm, dragging him away, while the employee continues to rant about how anyone who wishes to talk to him should bring him fossils.

Right after they have left the building, the man barks, "Child of Light!"

"It's Luca."

"Why did you do that?"

Luca crosses their arms. "You see, in the perspective of modern humans, what this museum is doing isn't wrong." They explain, "Yes, back when the technology was first developed years ago, there were ethical debates about it, and there still are now. However! Reception from the public has been generally positive. The prehistoric Pokémon resurrected by the technology are no different from modern Pokémon – they are living beings with potential to improve the environment and to live together with us. And also…" they trail off, noticing the man keeps looking down on them with an unchanging expression. "You are not changing your stance, are you?"

"Haha! What an interesting partner that you've found, Luca!"

"Professor Linden!" Luca pouts as they turn toward the source of the voice. "Please don't say it like it has been set in stone!"

"Oh, it's not?"

Professor Linden is the precise stereotypical image of a mountaineer: big, loud, and in possession of impressive facial hair. As Luca's mentor in antiquity, he was the one who lent them the Azure Flute. Now he strokes his beard and asks, "Is this it? The man who claimed to be an incarnation of Arceus?"

"I'm not merely an incarnation. I am the one and only Arceus," replies the man in white before Luca can say anything.

"Right, I heard the story from Luca. I have a gift for you, then." He begins looking in his bag, and after a few mistaken pulls, he finally manages to take out a sturdy box from it. Luca gasps. He opens the box, revealing a stone tablet with a scorching red color. "If you are truly Arceus, then I believe you are the only one who can ascertain the authenticity of this artifact and draw out its full power."

"The smell of flame," whispers the man, leaning down to see the relic closer. "Where did you find this?"

"Haha! Surprised, aren't you? I found it when I climbed Stark Mountain!" says the professor with vigor.

"Professor, are you sure about this?" asks Luca. "I'm sure you don't need me to tell you this, but that is a rare artifact and the only one we have!"

"So? Wouldn't our Arceus friend here be the rightful owner of it?" asks Linden back. When Luca gives no reply, he returns his attention to the curio. "Ah, but I won't just give it away. I want to see it in use first, just as written on this Plate: The rightful bearer of a Plate draws from the Plate it holds. You can do that, can't you?"

The man was silent for a moment before giving a nod. "Very well, but I would prefer to do it somewhere secluded."

Linden claps his hands. "I know just the right place then!"

 

[silurica]

Chapter 3: The Flame in the Dark​

"I know just the right place then!" Professor Linden claps his hands. "Oreburgh Mine!"

A few moments later, the three of them are now deep inside Oreburgh Mine following the professor's suggestion. In this city, trainers are permitted to train in certain sections of the damp and dark tunnels of her proud mine that have been reclaimed by wild Pokémon. In short, it's the perfect place for a private demonstration.

In the dark, Luca can't help but notice how the man's whiteness – everything about him, from his hair to the tips of his boots – reflects the faint light of the lamps in the tunnels. It makes him appear glowing. Divine, even.

The man stops walking with no warning. "Let's do it here." He pulls the dark gray ribbon tying his hair and hands it to the small painter. "Hold this for me. I will have it back after this." He then demands, "Now, prepare the Plate."

As he speaks those words, the same process as what happened at the Spear Pillar begins: bejeweled golden wheel encircling him; red and green eyes; patterned cheeks. His hair, too, begins to float in the air in a straight line. With his touch, the Plate shines, blazes, engulfs him. It covers him in a warm hue, gold into orange and green into gold.

"Hoho." Linden strokes his beard. "So this is Multitype. Ha! So my pupil here didn't have a hallucination, and nor are you a swindler."

His eyebrows twitch. "Did you have doubt, human?"

"Sorry, sorry. In this day and age, there are no Pokémon capable of both human disguise and speech like you, so I couldn't help it, see?"

"There are. My children – my direct descendants and followers still walk this world. The proof is the existence of this world itself."

The professor hums and nods. He then turns toward his pupil. "Did you hear that, Luca? We might need to start over our research again. Haha! So many things that we still don't understand!"

Luca glances, takes a small step aside. What the man said has a real possibility to change their understanding of how myths and legends interact with humanity. They can't let a chance this big slip away. "Yes, it will be a lot of work, but let's do our best together, Professor!"

"So you will accompany and learn from that gentleman, right?" asks Linden.

"Eh?"

"God has chosen you." He says with a sparkle in his eyes. "Surely you weren't thinking of handing him to me when you contacted me?"

"P-Professor… please… I'm aware we can't afford to miss this opportunity, but this is too big of…."

"I will help arrange your finances! Leave it to me!"

"Professor…!"

"Did you hear that?" The professor turns around to speak to the man again. "Our Luca here…. Huh? He's gone."

Luca tilts their head. "He didn't pass by us, so he must have gone deeper in. Oh!" They gasp and conclude, "If he went by himself that means I don't have to go on a journey with him!"

"That's no good. We need to find him and ask for his thoughts before making any conclusion." Linden slaps his pupil's back; they let out a yelp. "Let's go."

While they walk deeper into the mine, they spot a couple of wild Geodude lurking in the shadow, watching their steps. Linden hums and decides, "We should split up. Perhaps we will find him faster that way."

"Will we? I'm not sure about that…." replies Luca.

"He doesn't have any Pokémon with him, does he? A god he may be, but we know little about what he can or can't do now." Linden elaborates, "And this is a training ground, he may get attacked by an aggressive Pokémon. The sooner one of us finds him, the better it is for his safety."

That's true; they don't want their source of information to end up in peril. Although they wonder, what is the worst that can happen to a god? Waking up a cranky Rock-type and getting chased around?

They shudder at the thought. Perhaps that wouldn't be the worst for a god, but they would hate that, especially now when Celia is their only Pokémon in a condition fit for battle.

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"Eeeek!!"

A shriek resounds in the tunnels, followed by a rain of rocks. Luca and Celia run, while an Onix roars behind. The giant rock serpent darts after them, crushing anything in its path.

"This is the worst! I hate, hate, hate fighting Rock-types!" They stumble on a stray rock and land on their face. "Ugh…" Grunting, they stagger as they get back to their feet. When they rub dust off their face and glasses, they feel warm liquid on their skin – a nosebleed. "Argh! Celia! Flamethrower again!"

Flame bursts from the fire mouse Pokémon's back as she shoots a pillar of flame at their pursuer. The Onix, unfazed, slams at her head-on. The attack misses Celia by a finger, but the impact on the ground alone is enough to blow her right toward her trainer, knocking both of them to a wall.

"Ow, ow, ow. Are you okay?" asks Luca, pain spreading from their back and stomach where the Cyndaquil landed. Celia makes a soft noise in reply. They sigh. "This is the worst… How did we get attacked and chased around the moment we separated from Professor Linden?"

A rumble approaches; even in this state, the Onix still has yet to give up on the two.

Luca stares at the looming threat. It stares back. They nonchalantly wonder, "Do you think we will die? No? I know this kind of thing happens to trainers, but I wasn't expecting it in a place like this…. Ah, it was an alright life…."

The Onix roars again. Before it can unleash another attack, however, the sound of approaching footsteps puts it to a halt. A familiar voice calls, "Child of Light."

Luca knows immediately, there is only one person who would call them with that awful moniker. "You! Where have you been?!"

"I sensed a torn fabric of time. A contingency measure has been taken, we may rest easy for now," answers the man calmly. He takes a look at the rumbling Onix and asks, "Pray tell, what did you do to make her this aggressive?"

"I would like to know too. Can you translate?"

"Putting that aside," he continues, "judging from the situation, it seems you are unable to defeat her. If that is the case, you just need to prove your strength."

"Just need to…." Luca mumbles. Memories flash in their mind: the smallest of the herd; more successful peers; a poor performance; an empty badge case. Their hold on Celia tightens as they mutter, "Are you… are you mocking us?"

Ignoring that, the man extends his hand toward the Cyndaquil, caressing her head. That hand brushed against Luca's skin, warm as sunlight. "I will lend you my power, little one." With those words, a gentle light begins to envelop Celia. "You can do it."

The Cyndaquil struggles free from her trainer's hold to face the Onix once again. She takes a stance, fire burning on her back. The man gives the trainer a meaningful, expecting look. A second chance, huh? They bite their lip, collect their breath, then shout out, "Flamethrower!"

A blast of fire escapes from the tiny creature's mouth once again. This time, it swallows the rock snake Pokémon, giving the entire shaft a bright orange hue. The lamps flicker, the heat too much for them. When it dies down, the Onix collapses as well.

"We… we did it," whispers Luca, staring in disbelief. What did this man do to Celia? That doubt is momentarily dispelled when they see Celia rushing toward them in joy. They catch the Cyndaquil in an embrace. "You did it! You won against a Rock-type! Good girl!" Celia coos in delight. Perhaps just this once is fine.

For the first time, Luca flashes a smile at the man in white.

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When Luca wakes up later, they are no longer in the rocky tunnel of Oreburgh Mine, but in a clean white room. Ah yes, they must have passed out after the encounter with the Onix. The nurse present informs them that their Pokémon are in good condition, and someone is holding onto them. That person is waiting in the lobby. Is it Professor Linden? No, as nice as that would be, their hunch tells them it would be that person. No choice but to meet him then.

As expected, it is the man in white, dozing off with Celia snacking on a berry on his lap. He is back to normal, though his hair is still untied, reminding Luca of the ribbon in their pocket. Inhale, exhale. Before they can say a word, however, the Cyndaquil makes a delighted coo at her trainer, waking up the man. A quiet, awkward moment passes before he asks, "Child of Light, do you feel better now?"

"Yeah, uhm," They take a step aside, glancing off, then reach into the coat of their pocket for his ribbon – good, it's still there – to return it to him. "Were you the one who brought me here? Thanks."

He takes the ribbon and runs his fingers from one end of it to another. Satisfied, he begins to tie his hair back with it. "The wise man was of help too," he replies while his hands continue to work on tidying up his hair. "He navigated the labyrinth of your modern society when I couldn't."

"Wise man?" Luca has a bemused look, before realizing, "Ah, the Professor. Speaking of, where is he?"

"He left. He said he doesn't want to miss a Bronzong outbreak near the mountain."

"So I'm valued less than some Bronzong…" mutters Luca.

"Child of Light."

"No, it's nothing! I mean, what?"

"I wish to go to Jubilife City," says the man, ignoring Luca's flustered expression. He points at the television across the room – it's currently showing an idol and her Togekiss, dressed in frills and ribbons. "Something about that caught my attention, and the wise man taught me that everything shown in that box originated from Jubilife City."

"Jubilife, huh…" Luca takes a seat next to the man; Celia promptly climbs to their lap. They did plan to visit Lake Verity for a chance to glimpse the enigmatic Pokemon living in the lake, and Jubilife City is… "Sure, we can stop by Jubilife on the way."

He blinks. "I did not expect you to agree so readily. I am grateful, Child of Light."

"It just happens to be on the route for my next destination!" says Luca with a pout. "And please stop calling me that. I have a…" They trail off as a realization hit. A name? "Hey, this is embarrassing, but come to think about it, I haven't learned your name…."

"It's Arceus."

"No, not that," rejects Luca with a wave of hand. "It would be too suspicious if I called you that in front of people. I mean a nickname or an alias."

"Ah…." He sighs. "Now I remember, previously it was like this too. Well, go on and give me one then. A name that would fit the sensibilities of your era without betraying my essence."

"Eh? Me? Pick one?" asks Luca, and he nods. Luca begins to ponder. This is too sudden. They never dreamed they would ever give an alias to a deity. Have their seniors in the field ever found themselves in this kind of situation? How should this be approached? They can't just call a living being with the name of a region or landmark. Codes are obviously not good either. So…

Luca shakes their head. We are not naming an artifact here! Though he is certainly old no matter how youthful his face is!

Calm down, think about it again slowly. How about giving him an embarrassing nickname as payback for calling them by one? No, they are not that petty, and it will eventually get embarrassing for them too. So a normal name, something that would fit the era and his essence…. He is Arceus. He is a mighty being who supposedly created the world. He was the beginning of all.

"Then… Alfa?" they mumble.

"As in 'alpha,' the beginning." He nods. "Perhaps not the most clever name, but adequate." He pats them on the head as he stands from his seat. "Shall we get going then?"

An unfamiliar region and a new traveling companion. Luca never expected their journey to be a dull one when they left their home, but they would never have dreamed of this turn of events. As much as they loathe to think of the possible troubles ahead, at least it will not be boring.

 

[silurica]

Chapter 4: Jubilee Broadcast​

It's a relaxing day in Route 203, the outskirts of Jubilife City. The sun is bright, the breeze is gentle, and the Starly tweet cheery songs. From Oreburgh Gate to the east, a trainer and their Cyndaquil come crawling out, drenched in water and mud. "I'm alive!" One declaration, enough to startle the nearby Starly into flying away. "I thought I was a goner! Oh my god!"

"Yes?"

"You!" Luca points at the man in white who, unlike them, came out of the cave in a perfectly clean state. "Please don't suddenly take a detour like that again. And a place full of water at that! What if something happened to me or Celia? Or worse, my sketchbook and journal?"

"I see," he replies. "But we have the Earth Plate now. Thank you for putting up with it."

Luca stares at their companion. Look at his face: guileless, deadpan, devoid of any color whatsoever. A blank canvas that shouldn't be if he truly means his words. Is it too late to turn back now and try to track down Professor Linden?

No, on second thought, their mentor would insist on them continuing this assignment.

"Sure, sure. Just don't do it again," says Luca with a sigh. This is still an odd arrangement to be in, and they are too exhausted to argue after the sudden detour and worrying about their books. Celia the Cyndaquil climbs up to her trainer's lap, warm and toasty, and the trainer wraps their arms around her.

In the distance, they can see the skyline of Jubilife City, steel and concrete reaching toward the sky. So close, yet so far. If only they could teleport to the city without moving a muscle, how nice that would be. Then they can find a cheap but comfortable hotel for a day of rest and forget about the whole plate business. Yes, that would be nice.

The next time they blink, they are floating above the same buildings they just gazed at. They blink again; they are still floating in the sky. Celia squeals in their arms.

"Wh-wha—" Their head is spinning. Their legs flail in a futile attempt to find something to stand on. Is this real? They know only one person around who can pull such a trick. "Alfa! I just told you, don't do—"

"Hey, don't yell at my dearest Father!" There is an unfamiliar voice, giggling like ringing bells. "I'll drop you if you speak so rudely again!"

"I would appreciate it if you don't turn my guide into paste."

"Oh, Father, of course I won't!"

Who? The voices came from behind Luca. Once again, their attempt to reposition themself is futile. Thankfully it isn't for long, as in the next moment, the party lands on the tallest building, covered with satellite dishes. "Here should be the least conspicuous," says the psychic.

As soon as their feet reach solid floor, Luca immediately checks themself – Celia is okay; their glasses didn't fall; beret is still on their head; their bag is unopened. Everything seems to be in order.

"How did you like that? I granted your wish of teleportation!" The giggling voice assaults their ears. "How do you feel? Excited? Confused? Happy? Mad? I can sense a funny mix in you!"

Luca takes a few steps back, Celia still in cradle, before taking a look at the source of this lunacy: a petite character wearing their pink hair in twintails, dressed in light blue and adorned with a big, long ribbon on their back. Red jewels decorate the tail ends of their ribbon, and as they laugh, their golden eyes twinkle like reflected starlight.

"H-Haha." After everything, now all that Luca can muster is a faint, tired laughter. They want to go to bed. On the ground. Celia chirps and pats her trainer's arm in consolation.

"This is Mesprit," says Alfa, letting slide what just occurred like it was another Tuesday for him. "Although…." He raises his hand; it goes right through the psychic's satisfied smirk. "Your body is still in your lake, isn't it?"

"Of course you could tell, Father!" The psychic twirls to face Alfa – the ribbon on their back circling them in the motion – and offers a bow. "Please forgive my rudeness in using astral projection to meet you, but I'm so glad to be the first among my siblings to welcome you after your awakening."

"I don't mind. Can you become solid for a moment?" asks Alfa. When they do ("As you wish."), Alfa places his hand on their head and begins rubbing it. The psychic giggles softly.

'Father,' huh? In their mind, Luca begins reciting one of the myths of the region: From itself again, three living things the Original One did make. 'Father' makes sense in that context, but it's still surprising to see the oddball acting fatherly like this.

"What did you just call my dearest father?"

Luca jumps backward. When did Mesprit get right in front of them? And did they always wear that ruby red hairpin?

"Heehee! You react a lot, and your emotion fluctuates so vibrantly in your silver eyes! I love that. Silver eyes are a good omen, you know? Here, another gift from me." Mesprit waves a hand at Luca; a warm wind blows, drying the befuddled trainer in an instant.

"Mesprit…." mutters Alfa, his arms crossed.

Giggling, Mesprit flits toward the door of the rooftop. The door glows for a short moment when they place their hand on its handle. "Shall we go, then? I know you are tired from assisting my dearest Father. Oh, and call me Eve!"

After entering the building, it soon becomes clear that they are in Jubilife TV station. The busy crew hurrying to meet their schedules. The glimpses of stars you usually only see on screen. The excited laughter of the audience and visitors. If one was a romantic, they might call it a place where dreams are made.

Luca isn't a romantic in the matter of mass entertainment. They whisper to no one, "I hope the staff are getting enough sleep."

Alfa, on the other hand, watches everything that goes on with interest. "And then everything recorded here will be transmitted throughout the boxes in the region."

"It's called television, Father."

"Television." Alfa nods. "So this is how far humans have come in my absence. Ah, there is one in this room too."

It appears to be a room for guests to rest in. There are comfortable seats, strategically placed potted plants, a magazine rack, and a television – Jubilife TV channel, of course. It's currently showing a recording of a Pokémon League match.

"—powerful Hydro Pump! Can Garbodor stand back up?! Three… two… one… and that's it, folks! The winner is Nox and Feraligatr! They'll move on to the semifinal! What a show from our newcomer – truly the silver storm! Will they win the ticket to challenge the Elite—"

Celia coos as her trainer's hold on her tightens. Hearing that, Luca turns their gaze away. "Anyway," – they turned their mind away as well – "you wanted to come here, didn't you?"

"I thought I would be able to meet one of my children here," answers Alfa. As they walk, he continues observing his surroundings and the people passing. "But I can't sense her presence." His gaze intensifies with those words, startling someone who met it by coincidence.

"Isn't Eve here your child?"

"They are, but meeting Mesprit here was unexpected."

Eve giggles. "Your future sight has always been lousy, Father."

"I need to give it all of my focus to get it right. It's such a bother…. Oh."

The next hallway they enter is filled with posters and signatures of celebrities. "So bright," mumbles Luca. "Huh? What now?" they ask when they see Alfa rushing forward; his face, too, is bright.

"Here," calls Alfa. He points at a poster of a pale young woman dressed in white and lavender, paired with a Togekiss. "I saw her on television. This is Palkia, isn't it?"

"So you could tell! Impressive, Father!" replies Eve. "That's right, she goes by Tiana nowadays."

"Is this what priestesses do now? I approve of spreading the divine words with such convenient technology, but these clothes are not what I have come to expect." Alfa's eyes follow the curves of the idol, his expression impassive as ever.

"Oh, um, no. She quit priestesshood," replies Eve. Alfa's eyebrows twitch, making the psychic freeze for an instant. "I-I suppose it won't hurt to go ask when she's scheduled for a show. Oh, hello!" They wave at the first person – a beautiful person, perhaps a celebrity – passing by the hallway and skips away.

And there they go. There is risk of Eve overhearing their thoughts, but Luca still can't help wondering if it's fine to let the psychic go. For starters, they are not yet convinced that Eve has more common sense than their eccentric father.

Speaking of, Alfa is still looking up at the poster on the wall. He and the idol do share similarities: the same silver hair and red eyes, a blinding presence. Luca has ascribed that brightness to Tiana's polished performance before, but if she really was one of Alfa's children, perhaps there was another reason for it.

Eve is taking a while. Alfa is now holding Celia – once again, the two seem to get along – since Luca's arms have grown tired of holding her weight. As an artist, they cannot overwork their arms.

As time passes, Luca remembers the reason they wanted to go to Lake Verity: investigate Mesprit's existence, try to spot the legendary Pokémon if the investigation result points toward positive, and paint the lake and Mesprit. Technically, they have cleared the first goal, while the rest…. Maybe they should bring it up to Eve? Eve surely would be a tease about it though….

"Aw, I'm flattered you want to draw lil' old me! But no, I have no plan to come up to the surface anytime soon."

Luca jumps backward and hits the wall with a thud. Celia squeaks in surprise. The painter protests, "Please stop sneaking up on me like that!"

"But I'm not?" Eve's giggles ring in Luca's head, and now the painter knows they won't ever forget it. The psychic turns their attention to the taller man. "My apologies, Father. She wouldn't tell me about Miss Tiana's schedule, and her mind was so busy that I couldn't read it properly. Even though I told her that you are Miss Tiana's dearest father!"

Luca stares in disbelief. Of course she wouldn't believe that. Anyone could make up that kind of claim. Perhaps it's true that berries don't fall far from the tree, even when said tree and berries are immortal beings from the beginning of the world.

"More importantly," adds Eve, "I sense a distortion nearby."

Alfa's eyes widen, a slight frown forms on his face. "Is there? Can we reach it from here?"

Eve looks taken aback; for once, there is no trace of their cheery airs. "You couldn't tell? Is it because of me?"

The man puts his hand on the psychic's head again, caressing them, his fingers touching on the red hairpin. "Don't worry about that; I simply have yet to adjust fully to my current form. But perhaps I can use assistance. Child of Light?"

"It's Luca."

"Do you want to learn how to mend a distortion in time?"

 

[silurica]

Chapter 5: Azure Sound​

"Do you want to learn how to mend a distortion in time?"

Luca stares at the man in white, then sighs. "I don't have the choice to refuse, do I?"

Instead of answering, however, Alfa closes his eyes. What? If that's the case, then he should just—

"Quiet, won't you?" says Eve, smiling with one finger pointed at Luca. "You are an adorable child, but I will spare no forgiveness if you dare to interrupt my dearest father."

"Hush now," whispers Alfa. Eve flashes a smug smile, though Luca senses that the scolding was directed to the psy— Wait, they can't think of that now. Or can they? The psychic does nothing but stare at them.

As if that awkwardness was never there, Alfa opens his eyes again and answers, "It is true that it would be to my advantage if you accept, but the Azure Flute resonates with your heart. I cannot make you draw out my aura… my power with it if you have no desire to."

"Desire… huh?" murmurs Luca. A vague word, but it gives them an inkling of what Alfa expects from them: a connection.

"Yes – if your desire is insufficient, all you will make is noises, just like at the Spear Pillar," says Alfa with a wince. "That truly was horrible."

"Well, I'm sorry!" Luca pouts. "Anyway, I've seen that you're more than just an oddball. I will trust your instructions for now."

——————————————​

How they wish they had not accepted that request. Or order, whichever it is. They wouldn't have if they knew it would involve playing the Azure Flute in the middle of a park! Where people are looking!

Luca's hands tighten around the Azure Flute. Celia nuzzles against their legs, noticing her trainer's nervousness. Ah, yes. That is exactly what they are feeling now. Nervous. Worry. Some of the passersby hasten their steps, some of them slow down; both make Luca shift from one foot to the other, over and over.

Even the Stunky in the trash can is taking its time to look. Oh, now it's digging through the garbage in a rush, its bushy tail swaying in the motion. Then it slows down. Then it's digging with vigor again. Wait, this isn't the time to observe a Stunky!

They look up at the clock at the center of the park – they have been stealing glances at it as they fret. Sometimes the hands move too fast, sometimes too slow, and sometimes stop entirely. Is this what Alfa meant by a distortion in time? It looks indistinguishable from a broken clock.

In any case, something should be done about it. Luca knows that much, but when they remember how they took the responsibility without fully knowing what it entails, they begin wishing they were a Shuckle.

Alfa himself is sitting on a bench a few meters away. Eve has left; they said they can't keep lingering if they want to recover enough energy to return to the surface soon.

"Celia, what have I gotten myself into?" They let out a long sigh. The Cyndaquil tilts her head.

"Hello, there."

Luca turns around toward the voice. A woman is approaching. Dark-skinned and black hair, with white coat and black attire that complement her figure. A Salandit perches like a shawl over her bare shoulders. For a moment, it feels as if the world had slowed down to linger on her beauty. Seeing the woman fills Luca with the desire to paint her.

The woman laughs with a sharp smile. "Ah, hello? Your pink-headed friend spoke to me earlier."

"Ah, I see…." mumbles Luca. Celia growls and tugs on her trainer's coat, returning Luca to their senses. "Oh! You're from Jubilife TV! No, I mean, I-I'm sorry for bothering you."

The Salandit cackles. Celia squints at the black lizard, her first time seeing one in the flesh. It's the first time for Luca too, but right now the lizard is among the least of their concerns.

As she taps on the Salandit's long snout – it goes quiet at the gesture – the woman says, "No, no, I didn't mind that. I thought it was peculiar, though…. Oh, do you mind if I talk with you?"

Luca shakes their head vigorously. "Not at all! Not at all!"

"Thanks! By the way, my name is Ervilia – Ervi for short. What about yours?"

"I-It's Luca…." they answer. Celia isn't making any fire, but why do they feel their face going hot?

"Luca, see, I'm something of a journalist. I travel from region to region to find interesting stories. And Tiana is a beloved idol, right? So there must be something interesting that can be gained from learning about her background."

"A gossip journalist…." whispers Luca.

"Ah, that's not exactly right, but I suppose not entirely wrong either for this story," says Ervilia with a shrug. She looks toward Alfa, who is now dozing off in his seat with a flock of Starly gathering around him. "I never disclosed this to the press, but I found she was raised in an orphanage. Yet now we have someone claiming to be her father – maybe I didn't have the complete picture?"

Luca frowns. It's true that they are akin to father and daughter, but they can't just say that the two are Arceus and Palkia, can they? Imagine the chaos! Imagine the headache. "Please forget what you heard. My companions are… eccentric, to say the least."

Ervilia laughs – her laughter would be a pleasing color if put on paper. "Are they? In my line of work I often find the eccentric right, though. By the way, what are you doing with that thing in your hand?"

"Oh, this is a flute… kind of," answers Luca. They look down at the instrument, feeling its weight in their hands. The odd shape and the size reminds them of a heart. "I'm supposed to play it, but it's just… so embarrassing…." They can remember it clearly, the time when they botched a performance at a Gym. It will be loud. It will be bad. People will see. People will see. And the disappointment—

They pull their beret down. If nothing else, they don't want to see.

Ervilia, meanwhile, hums and asks, "But you still want to play it?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, you didn't refuse. Or is that it? You couldn't refuse?"

Luca shrinks a little. They couldn't, especially a request as small as playing a flute. Putting aside their lack of understanding in how this is going to help patch the distortion, it's far from the most outrageous thing they've been asked to do in their life. And yet, like a bone stuck in their throat, they can't bring themself to play it.

"Well, he only asked me to play this here," says Luca, glancing at Alfa. "It's apparently something important for him and… for everything."

"I see," says Ervilia with a smile. "Then he must be someone important to you too if you're still trying to do this. Is that it?"

Luca's expression stiffens. "No, it's nothing like that at all. I mean, we've only met recently."

"Oh? Then what is he to you?"

Luca casts their gaze toward the man in white, who still sleeps sitting on the bench. The oddly-shaped flute – his flute – fits in their hands. He lent them and Celia power, and even after they fumbled, after they let their mouth run off, he still….

"He's an oddball," answers Luca. "Everything about this is weird and I'm still trying to make sense of my place in it, including what he wants from me… but he's the oddball who believes in me and I want to try returning that sentiment."

Thinking about it now, he reminds them a bit of when Professor Linden found them.

They blow the flute. There is no sound to speak of, nothing that can be heard by human ears, but something stirs. That something guides their fingers along the instrument. That something guides them along the openings of the heart. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Alfa is awake now, watching and not quite human. A transparent song envelopes the world, and it carries light and glory under His merciful gaze—

Alfa still looks human. People and Pokémon pass by the park without care. Rumbles of vehicles can be heard in the distance. Ervilia is still there as she was before Luca played the flute. The world wasn't bathed in heavenly light, and if it was, nobody but Luca seemed to notice. Alfa is now standing before them, and he nods his approval.

"I don't know what just occurred, but it seems you did it?" asks Ervilia. The Salandit has climbed up to her head, staring at Luca with discerning eyes.

They blink. Whatever that was, the ground is still under their feet this time. It's done; when this fact sinks in, Luca's legs finally give in to the fatigue. "…Yeah. Thank you, Miss Ervi…."

With those words said, they finally run out of battery and collapse. Alfa takes a step forward, right on time, catching them before they can fall to the ground. "This is the second time…." says Alfa while lifting his companion; their hands are still clutching tight on the Azure Flute. Celia climbs up to his shoulder in the meantime.

"Interesting kid." Ervilia grins. "And you seem like an interesting man too."

"Do I?"

"Yup. It was all timed too well for you to be just sleeping," says Ervilia. When Alfa gives her a quiet look, she only shrugs. "I like to think I can be a journalist by being observant. Anyway, I'll be traveling around this region for a little while. I hope I'll see you two again." She gives the man a jovial slap on the back and waves a goodbye. As he watches her back, for the first time he notices the teardrop-shaped golden prism on her coat.

"Well then," he says to Celia, "I suppose it is time for us to seek respite." The Cyndaquil coos her approval, while her trainer is none the wiser about the selection of place for sleep.

 

[silurica]

Chapter 6: A Floral Encounter​

"Child of Light?"

"What?"

"You have been quiet since we departed, and soon we will reach our first stop. I must say, this is uncanny."

Luca stops at their track and begins muttering, "You want to know why I'm in this mood? Do you really want to know why?"

"Hmm, I sense a disturbance in the balance," remarks Alfa with a deadpan face.

"I mean…! Eve is so much to handle but they're absolutely a beauty when I think of them with their voice on mute, but they can't come up to the surface now! Even though I traveled in that direction to go to Lake Verity and draw them!"

"I'm glad you think of my child as beautiful, but Mesprit's voice is part of their charm."

"And then Miss Ervi! Miss Ervi! I wanted to draw her so bad! Right there and then! But I just had to faint from exhaustion and missed my chance to ask her to model! I didn't even get to ask for her contact info!"

"How about painting my good self?" interjects Alfa, but the suggestion is met with a look of disbelief.

The rants go on for a while, until they smell a fragrant scent carried by the wind. More flowers of many shapes and colors come into view, and eventually they can see a wooden gate arching over the road. They have arrived at Floaroma Town, vivid and scented.

"It's as pretty as its reputation," says Luca, watching their surroundings. Here, almost every house and building has a flower bed of varying sizes. It reminds them of home, just a little. Their hometown is known for its flowers, among other things, but it pales in comparison to this. They pull on their beret a little, before stopping and moving their hand as if they were adjusting it.

"I see the people of this town hold their wisdom true," Alfa muses. "It's truly comforting to see there is still something familiar in the everchanging passage of time."

Nostalgia, huh? That does sound like a comforting idea. Luca starts seeing themself drawing the flowers too – the many colors and the Pokémon flitting about between them. Maybe the third time will be the charm.

"We should go find an inn then. I don't want to spend the night at a Pokémon Center again," says Luca.

"You can go without me," replies Alfa – a Combee has landed on his hand. "I will find a place at Floaroma Meadow."

"You want to sleep outside?"

"A crude but correct assumption. Yes, I prefer the outdoors."

"Sometimes I wonder how you keep yourself sparkling clean all the time."

"'Tis because I am a god."

"Figures."

After separating from Alfa, Luca stops by the local Pokémon Center to have Celia and Chopin checked up. While waiting for their turn they realize, it has been a while since the last time they were by themself. Things have been so hectic, they had no chance to pause and breathe. This is a good opportunity to use their alone time for art; just them and their brushes, with no oddball watching over their shoulder.

Finding an inn turns out to be a simple matter, and they finish making their reservation in no time. As they contemplate which corner of the town to paint, they spot a brown-skinned girl with wavy hair – lush as leaves – just outside the inn. Pink flowers decorate her hair, and the same sort of flowers fill the basket she carries.

The girl, too, notices Luca and begins approaching with a smile. "Would you care for some of Floaroma Town's specialties?"

"Gracidea flowers, huh? They're really pretty," says Luca, crouching down to get a closer look at the flowers. It would be cute to give some to Celia and Chopin since those two have been their partners, but…. "Sorry, I'm a traveling trainer. I don't have the space for keeping flowers fresh."

"Oh my, we have a knowledgeable visitor today," says the flower girl. Noticing the confused look on Luca's face, she adds, "Well, you can tell it's Gracidea."

"Isn't this common knowledge?" asks Luca, still puzzled. "When we talk about Floaroma then it's gotta be the story of how Shaymin made the land fertile and the flowers bloom, right?"

"I see more visitors only care about whether the flowers would make a trendy photo background. Not that we can do much about that, and it brings business to the town," she answers with a shrug. "And I believe the folktale only said that a Pokémon did it, not what the Pokémon was."

Oh. Oh. Luca wishes they knew Minimize. "S-Sorry, I got ahead of myself. Was I wrong?"

The flower girl twirls her long hair around her finger and asks back, "Do you believe Shaymin still exist?"

Do they? If they were asked the same question last month, they would have answered: no, not in particular. Mythology is interesting, but it is often no more than a fantastical reflection of the era and place it originated in. At least, that is what they believed before, but now they are in the middle of learning again from scratch.

"I guess I won't be surprised if they exist," answers Luca. "Things long gone or thought to never exist sometimes show up in some rarely visited corner. Weird world that we live in, right?"

"Hmm. In my family it's practically a fact that a Shaymin was responsible for rejuvenating this town," says the flower girl while fixing the Gracidea on her hair. "It's a lil' surprising to hear someone else speak about it with the same certainty."

She twirls her hair around her finger again, and at last decides, "So you're not buying, right? Maybe I'll go home for today…. Well, then. Enjoy Floaroma, traveler."

"Wait, can I come with you?" asks Luca. While the flower girl is still caught in surprise, uttering no response, they realize how odd that sounded and quickly add, "Ah, I'm actually a folklore student. This isn't something weird! Not at all! I just want to hear more about Shaymin and your family's Floaroma story."

"Suspicious…."

"U-Uh, I guess it sounds suspicious and weird. Wait. I mean, no! I swear I didn't mean to be weird!"

Her fingers play with her hair again. After a moment, she shrugs. "Well, I guess that's fine. You seem like an alright sort."

"Thank you!" Luca's face brightens; they have stumbled into something just as good – if not better than – a painting subject. If this bore fruits, perhaps it would make Professor Linden glad too.

As they walk, Luca conducts an interview to learn more about the flower girl. Her name is Sheila, and she lives alone by Floaroma Meadow. Her family is a nomadic society, but wherever Gracidea can bloom, they will entrust one of theirs to watch over the place, and right now it's her turn to stay at Floaroma. Here she fulfills her duty, until the day she can join her people again.

Floaroma Meadow lies beyond the forest at the outskirts of the town. After walking under the shades of the trees, the path opens to a vast glade where flowers bloom as far as one can see. It makes the town look like a small garden in comparison.

"Child of Light?"

Luca shudders. There is only one person who would call Luca that, and sure enough, they can spot Alfa walking toward their direction. He has a Wurmple on his shoulder and a Budew stumbling by his feet – his pace slower as to match the little bug's smaller steps.

"I thought you're looking for a place for sleep," says Luca when Alfa is finally within speaking distance.

"I already found one with help from these little ones." He gestures at the pair he came with. "And I reckoned you might come in this direction to paint the scenery."

What? So he paid attention to them, enough to make a guess like that. Luca can't help smiling a little hearing it. "And what would you do if I decided to draw the people in the town instead?"

Alfa gives no answer and only stares – did he even think that far? The awkward silence is only broken when he notices the flower girl hiding behind Luca. "Hello," he greets. "Are you the current guardian of this meadow?"

"I am…." murmurs Sheila – her voice has become so small.

It's faint, but Alfa smiles in response. "You have my gratitude for keeping this meadow beautiful."

Hearing those words, a gasp escapes from Sheila's lips and her hands move to cover it. One. Two. Three. More and more Gracidea flowers sprout and bloom from her hair. Upon noticing the profusion of flowers, she makes her escape as fast as the wind.

"Is she okay?" asks Alfa.

"She is definitely not," replies Luca.

 

[silurica]

Chapter 7: Flowers and Millennia​

Sheila the flower girl ran away after Gracidea flowers suddenly bloomed from her lush hair. That was the moment when Luca realized: she is a Shaymin, isn't she? They have read that flowers bloom on Shaymin's grass-like furs when they sense gratitude, and in hindsight, what she told them about her family also matches Shaymin's supposed migratory habit.

When the pair follow the direction she fled to, they find a small cottage in the middle of a field of pink Gracidea, even more radiant and fragrant than those she carried in her basket. Combee and Beautifly flit about from one blossom to another. This must be where she lives.

Luca knocks on the door. "Sheila? Are you there?"

A small cough comes from behind the door. "I'm sorry, I don't feel well…."

"Young Shaymin, my apologies for surprising you," says Alfa from behind Luca.

At once, the door opens wide: Sheila, absolutely flustered, her hair is still covered with flowers. "With all due respect, how could you spill my identity in front of this… this…!" She makes frantic gestures at Luca.

Luca gapes at first, but soon her reaction clicks in them and they say, as careful as they can, "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I also know this is Arceus, and I've met Mesprit too. It's fine, I promise."

Sheila looks at Luca, then at Alfa again. Alfa nods to confirm what she heard. She fidgets with her hair and at last says, "I-If Lord Arceus says so. Uh…. Sorry for running away suddenly, and… I'm happy to do my duty, my Lord. Then, w-would you like to come inside?"

"I'm afraid I have to refuse your kind offer; I wish to spend as much time as possible taking in the sight of this meadow," replies Alfa – another flower blooms on Sheila's hair. He places his hand on Luca's shoulder. "But perhaps the Child of Light here would enjoy the opportunity to speak with one of the Shaymin."

With that, Luca now finds themself alone with Sheila in her cottage, just as initially planned before Alfa showed up. It's a small place with sparse furniture, even the table where they sit at now only has one chair paired with it and Sheila had to bring in a stool from the kitchen so both of them can sit. While it lacks grandeur, however, it has greenery filling every corner instead and sunlight shines through the window on the ceiling.

"So… Child of Light?"

Luca chokes on their herbal tea. Upon regaining composure, they say, "Please don't start calling me that too. I have a name: Luca."

"What? You don't like it?" asks Sheila.

"No, no, no way. Absolutely not," asserts Luca with a scowl. "But he is oddly stubborn about it. I think he willfully ignores me whenever I protest."

"Oh…." Sheila leans back in her chair, her hands carefully snipping off the flowers that grew from her hair. As she works, she wonders, "Maybe it's because you have the same name as his wife."

For the second time, Luca chokes on their tea. "Wife? That oddball has a wife?"

"Who are you calling an oddball?" protests Sheila. "And it's had. His wife passed away millennia ago."

Wife. They never considered it before, but thinking about it, maybe it shouldn't be that surprising. Alfa is ancient – the person with the longest history in the world. Having a spouse or two isn't odd in such a massive timescale. But what kind of being would be his match?

"He never told you that?" asks Sheila while plucking the next flower within reach.

Luca shakes their head; the only thing they know for certain is Alfa's stubborn refusal to call them by name. "Who… or what kind of person was his wife?"

"Well, I only know of stories passed down in my family too." Sheila twirls her hair around her finger. "It's said that the Esteemed Lady loved flowers and took a great liking to my ancestors, and that's why we were granted the ability to take on human form like them. Apparently it's the Lord's way of saying we're chosen and special."

After removing another flower, she leans forward and whispers, "As for who… say, have you ever heard of Mew?"

"The super rare Pokémon said to carry the genes of all Pokémon?"

"That's a very… modernistic take, but fine, close enough," says Sheila with a shrug. "If the Great Lord was the soil, so the story goes, then the Esteemed Lady was the seed of the tree we call the world. She was the first Mew, and every other Mew are mere branches of hers. And not just that – since she was the original seed, other living beings also descended from her, including the myriad of plants and humanity."

Ah, of course his wife was the universal ancestor of all beings. The god and the source of all creations – literally a match made in Heaven. Last month, Luca would have questioned the concept of a being that gave birth to all life, but here they are now.

No, they should still question it, for that's how knowledge can progress. These stories don't have to be literal. They never have to. Although it's now harder to argue from that perspective after meeting Alfa.

They cast their gaze outside the window, where the meadow is in full view. Now they realize, Alfa always showed keen interest in technological advancement before, but since arriving at Floaroma he has only been looking at the flowers and disregarding everything else. His late wife must be the reason why.

Huh? Is the oddball feeling wistful? Why should they care? Something about it nags at them. They take out their journal and jot down everything they heard. Once done, they say, "I think I should go back to him now. Thanks for the stories."

"Aw, you don't want to hear more about the Shaymin? Maybe another story of ours?" asks Sheila.

"Sorry, I'd love to, but maybe next time." As Luca finishes their tea, they add, "By the way, what tea is this? I love the sweet scent."

"Gracidea tea. Goes for 350 per pack. It can also heal status conditions for Pokémon," answers Sheila with her flower girl smile.

"…You're selling it."

"Naturally. Support a local business! Folklorists are supposed to do that, right?" She winks outrageously.

"I'm not sure what image of folklorists you have in your… no, never mind," mumbles Luca. They relent, however; tea leaves are easier to keep than fresh flowers.

Soon enough, Luca finds themself wandering in the vast meadow, looking for where their companion has gone. The weather is clear, and the brightness is almost blinding. If they look down, they can clearly see the flowers and the wild Pokémon frolicking between them.

Did the meadow look like this too back when the first Mew was still alive? Full of life and colors? It's easy to see how one can fall in love with this. Perhaps back then Sinnoh even had a warmer climate, allowing more life to flourish.

Their shadow on the ground has grown taller when they finally find Alfa dozing off under a tree at the outskirts of the meadow. For once he is alone, with no Pokémon gathering around him.

"Welcome back, Child of Light," he says upon noticing Luca's approaching footsteps.

"Don't move from your spot," says Luca. They sit down a short distance away from the man and begin taking out their sketchbook and pencils.

"You changed your mind," remarks Alfa.

"Yeah."

"Did something happen?"

They don't answer. Their focus is now on the sketchbook and the model before them. On the paper, they shape his cheeks, his nose, his flowing long hair. They replicate the light as reflected by their subject's ivory radiance. Only when they start polishing the sketch that they speak, "I met Professor Linden at the Ruins of Alph in Johto several years ago, he found me sketching the ruins like this and asked if I'd like to help him in his folklore works. I accepted, and that was the beginning of my journey with him."

A stray line; they erase it and put it back in place. "Traveling with the Professor made me interested in his works too. Especially, I became interested in the reasons and emotions behind the stories from the past. How did those stories come to be? What shaped them into the form we know today? Eventually, I started wanting to depict those in my art too, instead of only drawing what is in front of me. It hasn't been easy though."

They look up at Alfa – his red eyes reflect sunlight like cold jewels. "Today I was reminded, you are basically the oldest interviewee I have ever met. You are the person with the most stories, and now you are my oldest drawing subject too. But…." They look back down at their sketch, but their pencil doesn't move. "Well, I still can't stop seeing you as the oddball that turned everything I knew upside down too. Is that fine?"

Alfa gives a slow nod. "That is, indeed, fine. I am not a human like you, and never will be." He tilts his head. "I rather enjoy your presence, in any case."

"One day," says Luca, peeking from behind the sketchbook, "I want to draw you again after knowing more about you and your life."

"Learning about myself may take longer than a lifetime for you."

"Then I just need to do what I can." Luca's hand starts moving again, giving the sketch a finishing touch. "As long as I can leave something of you behind, I've done my part as a folklorist. Someone will pick up my trail, like when I picked up Professor Linden's."

Hearing that, a smile slips into Alfa's expression. "You are correct. That neverending chain of progress is what I adore about the mortals."

"More than the flowers of this meadow?"

"Who knows?"

When they finish the sketch, Alfa takes a look at it. "I didn't know I could be that beautiful. Thank you, Child of Light." His words sound like hyperbole, but a part of them agrees with the sentiment: so he can be a beautiful subject too. They start looking forward to tomorrow a little more, and the next time they will draw their traveling companion.

 

[silurica]

Chapter 8: A Rondo of Runts​

The sun is setting on Route 205. A Noctowl flies above the hilly terrains, leading Luca and Alfa to a small cave opening. "Ohh, this is nice!" says Luca when they arrive at the cave. "We don't have to worry about the weather for tonight. Thanks, Chopin!"

The Noctowl hoots in delight and rubs his head on his trainer – smaller than he is – as if saying: Praise me! Praise me more!

"Ha, good boy. H-Hey, come on, that's enough! Haha." Luca tries to push the Noctowl away, but the bird has more strength, and he pushes harder for snuggles.

Suddenly, a pale hand touches the bird's head, stopping him in his place. "Enough of that. You will make your sister upset."

Sure enough, Celia is scowling and sparks of flame come jumping from the Cyndaquil's back.

As soon as they have been freed from the Noctowl, Luca starts preparing dinner for the group. Here are the berries and mushrooms that they gathered together along the way, and here is the Slowpoke tail that they found by the river thanks to Chopin's keen eye – they will taste delightful together. Celia's flame burns bright, heating the pan and the pot just right to bring out the flavor of the ingredients.

As the savory sweet smell begins to waft from the pot, so does Celia's mood improve. Chopin, too, hoots with her for their dinner to be served.

Thus another day on the road has ended. Or so Luca thinks as they watch Chopin flying away to enjoy the night, right before they hear a question: "Why do you travel with only those two?"

Luca gives the man in white a long hard stare before asking back, "Do I need a reason to be with them?"

"No," answers Alfa. He folds his arms and continues, "Although it strikes me as odd how you seem well-acquainted to long travels, yet you have nothing to defend yourself with in case of an attack from a being of stones and earth."

"A being of… do you mean Rock-type Pokémon?" Luca's gaze turns toward the depth of the cave. Save for the faint chirps of Zubat, they sense nothing in the dark. For now. "W-Well, we can just run away."

"That plan evidently worked wonders in Oreburgh."

"It worked when we were climbing Mt. Coronet!" retorts Luca. "We stay alert for the approach of Rock-types, and with that we can avoid them before it can scale into aggression! We were just unlucky in Oreburgh, especially since Chopin was staying at the Pokémon Center."

"It's arrogance to not account for that unfortunate possibility, Child of Light. Your kind is especially frail."

Luca pouts. From the beginning, they understand what Alfa is saying. They are aware of it. Even so…. "It's not like you'll understand," they mutter as they caress Celia's back, while the small Pokémon sleeps soundly on their lap.

If Alfa heard that rejection, he had decided to give no response to it, as now silence deepens between them. The crackles of the campfire are loud in the tense, cold air.

Unable to bear with that atmosphere any longer, Luca asks, "Well, if you're so worried about me, why don't you use the Meadow Plate you got from Sheila? It's Grass-type, right? Perfect for driving Rock-types away."

Alfa only stares at the trainer at first, but he stands up and takes off the ribbon tying his hair – a gesture Luca remembers from when he prepared himself to use the Flame Plate at Oreburgh Mine. He raises one hand, and comes his golden wheel, coated with the green of a meadow. With a snap of a finger, a shower of emerald light obliterates one of the rocks outside into smithereens, leaving only a crater where it once stood tall.

The impact stirs the Zubat in that cave into a frenzy, noisily screeching and flapping above in their disordered escape. Celia looks around in confusion, trying to make sense of her abrupt awakening. Meanwhile, Chopin returns in haste and starts pulling on the collar of his trainer's coat. In the middle of it all, Luca can only look with a dumbfounded expression on their face.

When the noise has died down and his golden wheel dissipated, Alfa tilts his head and says, "I would rather not, Child of Light. My control over my offensive output isn't satisfying yet."

"Very understandable. Thank you for considering it," replies Luca flatly.

He sits back at his previous spot as if nothing special occurred. While tying his hair, he adds, "But Child of Light, perhaps you have yet to notice, but the world – Pokémon won't attack you while you are by my side."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"You heard my words."

Is what he said true? Luca recounts their journey so far: the Onix in the Oreburgh Mine attacked when they were separated; the Oreburgh Gate was awfully wet, but otherwise uneventful; small Pokémon flocked to him whenever they stopped to rest; nothing else happened on the road…. He is right. That's a god for you. But….

"Wait. Then that rock…?" They point at the steaming crater outside.

"Ah, I just wanted to know if three Plates are enough to wield my power with accuracy."

That is a god for you. His line of thoughts is incomprehensible as always.

Luca leans back. It's warm with Chopin right next to them and Celia on their lap; they can fall asleep like this. "So you're saying we're actually safe," they say. "Then what were you worrying about?"

A slow blink, and Alfa lets out a faint sigh.

"What? We will make do. Me and Celia and Chopin. Us runts gotta stick together."

"Runts?"

It takes a moment for Luca to realize what they have said. When they do, they shift in their place, the comfort they just had now gone. "Yes, runts. I'm not a good trainer, too indecisive and prone to sentimentality. Runts are what Celia and Chopin were too. But we're not in Johto anymore, and I won't come across Nox here in—"

Celia coos softly. Chopin, too, rubs his beak on his trainer's head.

"Sorry," mumbles Luca. They let out a long sigh. "Anyway, I hope that gave you some ideas why it's not as simple as catching a new Pokémon for me."

"I see," says Alfa. With that simple reply, the conversation ends, though slight tense still lingers on Luca's expression.

Moments later, when both Luca and Celia have fallen asleep, Alfa wakes. When he moves closer to Luca, Chopin notices him and comes approaching with a large gait. The bird bobs his head, watching the deity. A curious mood. To the Noctowl's delight, Alfa gives him a small scratch on the cheek, then under the beak.

Then he stops. He stops and does nothing but gaze at the sleeping trainer. The Noctowl hoots in a low voice, as to not wake them. Alfa nods in response. Minutes pass before he finally speaks, his voice so solemn and delicate as if to be carried by the wind.

"You may have doubts now, but I hope you shall one day see our blessing, for we won't abandon those who believe. All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well. I promise this, my child, for you are loved."

 

[silurica]

Chapter 9: Through the Forest​

At the edge of Eterna Forest, Luca and Celia step out from a small inn, ready to continue their journey after a good night's sleep. The pair start to look around, even behind the inn, but one fact becomes increasingly clear: Alfa is not here. Luca thought he would be waiting outside like on the day of their departure from Floaroma Town, but….

"Well, what should we do now?" wonders Luca. Celia tilts her head – he should show up any moment, right?

Looking around for a little more shouldn't hurt; the pair continue walking until they reach a signpost. It reads: The Eterna Forest – Where Time Flows Eternally. The incident in Jubilife City comes to Luca's mind: it would be a problem if time didn't flow eternally, right? Or would it be no big deal? Nobody noticed that time was disordered at that spot, after all.

"I mean," Luca wonders out loud again, "is it even possible to stop the flow of time entirely?"

"If my son died…."

Luca jumps forward, away from the voice. It's a familiar voice, they realize with a prick of embarrassment, so they turn around and point at the source of it. "You!" They whine, "Where have you been?"

"I could ask the same of you," replies Alfa. "This is not where we promised to meet."

"That's because you weren't at the inn."

"Ah, I went to help this little one." He takes a step aside, revealing the red-headed girl hiding behind him, clutching a sketchbook. One of her twintails is tied into a loop, while the other hangs down free. Judging from her petite figure, she must not be much older than elementary school age.

"Mira's friend is missing," says the little girl. "Her name is Cheryl. She went into this forest several days ago, but she hasn't come out yet. Uhm…." She flips over the pages of the sketchbook and shows a crude drawing of a green-haired character to Luca. "This is what Cheryl looks like. Please help Mira find her!"

Such an earnest voice; Luca feels something lurching in them. "Uh, I guess I don't mind keeping an eye open, but kid, shouldn't you report this to the rangers or the police?"

The girl shrinks. "I did, but…."

"She told me that those responsible are busy with… something about a galaxy," says Alfa.

Luca scratches their head. They wanted to take their time through the forest to find and draw the famous Moss Rock, but that would be out of the question if they agreed to help her.

"Listen to your heart, Child of Light. Do you feel no pity?"

Hearing that question, they sigh. "Fine, but only until we reach the other side of the forest, got it? We don't have the supplies to keep looking."

Hearing that, the girl's expression brightens. "Thank you, miss!"

"Not 'miss'," corrects them. "Just call me Luca."

"Child of Light," interjects Alfa.

"Luca. And this small fella here is Celia." Luca makes a gesture at the Cyndaquil, who raises her paw on cue. They take out a Poké Ball from the pocket of their coat and release a Noctowl from it. "And this is Chopin. Chopin, look here, I want you to find…." They trail off as they stare hard at the girl's drawing.

The woman in the picture is green. Very green. Her long, braided hair is a dark green color, and so is the dress she wears. It may not be a polished drawing, but the woman appears distinct regardless. Chopin twists his head upside-down, acknowledging the drawing, before taking off into the depth of the forest.

It's peaceful in Eterna Forest. The chilly air is fresher than in Route 205 and sunlight barely reaches the ground, filtered through the leaves. Alfa asks the wild Pokémon – reverent as always – if they have seen the missing woman. Occasionally Chopin would fly over the group and immediately leave again – a sign that he has yet to sight anything of interest ahead of them.

Right when lunchtime arrives, they come across the Moss Rock in a clearing densely surrounded by trees. The sight of Budew and Cherubi relaxing around the towering boulder almost tempts Luca to stay at their spot and draw, but the faint look of worry on Mira's face reminds them of the problem they currently have on hand.

Cheryl must be someone important to Mira, judging from how she talks about the woman as they make their way through the forest: how her Kadabra and Cheryl's Chansey fought for the first time; how Cheryl admired her adventurer grandfather, but lacked the confidence to follow his footsteps; how despite that, Cheryl fought with Mira to keep Team Galactic away from their town.

"Wait, mister, you don't know about Team Galactic?" asks Mira when Alfa expressed his confusion.

"Ah, he came from another region," interjects Luca with their stock answer. "His hometown is a pretty backwater place."

"I heard about them from television… but I'm afraid my knowledge is still lacking," admits Alfa.

"Huh… Mira wouldn't have guessed since you dress so fancy, mister."

"Is that so? My children chose this attire for me."

"Anyway, Team Galactic," Luca begins, trying to stir the conversation away from the topic of Alfa's family before he can say anything difficult to explain away. "They're a group of terrorists that caused troubles in this region not too long ago. I heard they wanted to create a new world or something like that."

"They stole people's Pokémon and tried to steal Kadabra from Mira too! Mira won't forgive them!"

"I won't forgive them for bombing Lake Valor and destroying an ancient cave painting in Mt Coronet."

"Also their uniform is so tacky!"

"It is! Imagine walking around dressed like that! I wouldn't."

"How horrible," says Alfa dryly.

Luca clears their throat, then continues, "Well, apparently their leader went missing and since then most of them have quit, and some are trying to reform, but there are still a few left causing troubles around."

"Mira hopes Miss Cheryl didn't get involved with them…." says Mira, squeezing the sketchbook in her hug.

When Luca looks up, they spot something brown flying toward them – Chopin! He hoots and circles several times above the group before flying away again. Soon enough, they can see what the Noctowl spotted: a derelict, abandoned mansion.

"I-It's the Old Chateau…." Mira shudders.

"Old Chateau…" Luca checks the notes on their map. "That means we should be close to the exit to Eterna City now. Well, I guess Chopin was excited about finding a landmark. We should keep going."

However, Alfa stands at his place, staring at the mansion with intent. Luca raises an eyebrow at this, and when they are about to say something to him, he says, "Child of Light, I can sense one of my Plates inside this building."

"In here? Really? Then, Chopin!" A call and a loud whistle, and the Noctowl flies back toward his trainer. He returns inside the Poké Ball as a red light envelopes him. "Okay, let's get going, then. The sun is setting, and I want to leave this forest before it gets dark."

"You have to go without me, Child of Light," says Alfa. Luca, who already has one leg over a broken fence, looks back at him with a clear expression of disbelief. He continues, "This building is populated by spiritual beings, and my presence can be overwhelming for such creatures. If I had a particular Plate, I could wear the same shroud as them, but I suspect it is that very Plate that sleeps in this building…."

Luca stares hard at Alfa before muttering, "…Useless god."

"Hear, now. I merely have no desire to disturb my subjects."

Mira, meanwhile, has hid behind Alfa again. "Are you really going inside?"

"I guess now I have to," answers Luca with a shrug. They jump over the fence, then add, "Besides, this is nothing compared to the Ruins of Alph; that was creepy."

"You can stay with me if you wish, little one," says Alfa to Mira. He turns his gaze back at Luca as he continues, "I will wait here."

"Sure, sure. You better be there and not wander off," replies Luca as they walk through overgrown grass toward the mansion with Celia following right behind.

"One more thing, Child of Light," calls Alfa, stopping Luca in their tracks. "If you find yourself in trouble, do not hesitate to play the Azure Flute. Play it and think of my being. We shall find each other."

Luca looks at Alfa, then at Mira, then at Alfa again. They throw the Poké Ball containing Chopin toward him. "Appreciated. You just make sure to keep Mira safe – can't be too wary of those Galactic goons. Chopin will help."

With that, Luca makes their way toward the Old Chateau. They place their hands on the grand doors, which open with a grating creak for the guests. Come in.

 

[silurica]

Chapter 10: A Piece of Gateau​

The doors of the Old Chateau close behind Luca and Celia. The only light in the dark building is the orange light of the setting sun, filtered through the dusty windows. Luca sets their bag down and rummages through it, with Celia watching by their side.

"Ah, found the flashlight." Click. Light now fills the direction ahead of them, revealing the tattered furniture and paintings and rotting floorboards. "Good, the battery is still charged. I'll be counting on you if any wild Pokémon appear to attack us, but we should minimize fire usage here."

They take another look inside their bag and notice the box containing the Azure Flute. It's a precious relic… but it's also a tool that Alfa has entrusted them to use. What should they— No, there is no time to fuss about this now. They take out the instrument and put it inside the pocket of their coat.

What now? They played it cool earlier, but a creepy place is creepy. Even if ghosts aren't real, it's not unheard of for Ghost-type Pokémon to create illusions to distract their prey. No, actually, it would be hasty to assume ghosts aren't real when they are traveling with the closest thing to a creator deity.

They pout, remembering they have no choice but to go forward. "Fine. Let's go."

The most conspicuous thing in the foyer is the statue of a… draconic thing. It has a plated head and webbed wings, but it also has six legs. Luca has never seen a Pokémon like it before. It also feels like it's glaring at them. Still, needs must; they begin to check the statue, seeing if they can find a hidden switch or compartment on it – anything. After all, leaving the mansion as soon as possible would be ideal.

There is nothing of the kind on the statue or its pedestal. However, when they look up at the statue again, its eyes now glow red. Ah. They can scream now. They want to scream. But by instinct they know that screaming would make the situation worse. "Sorry for intruding," they mumble as they enter the door next to the statue, away from it.

It's a dining hall; a wooden table spans across the room – perhaps many people dined here in the mansion's glory days. There is nothing but cobwebs under the table. Just like the foyer, the dust is thick and the walls are decorated with paintings. It must be a rich person's hobby; Luca wouldn't mind having one of such clients.

The kitchen is located right next to the dining hall. The sink is moldy; they opt to not check it after giving it a cursory glance. The room doesn't look like a place where anything precious may be kept, but they peek into the cupboards just in case – pots, pans, knives, and many more utensils sit unused, rusting away with time.

When they least expect it, their stomach growls. Really now? True, they are approaching dinner time, but that just from looking at kitchen utensils? It's a good thing that there is nobody to hear it except Celia.

"Oh dear, are you hungry? Please, help yourself to our prized old gateau."

Luca turns and points their flashlight toward the source of the voice: an old man in tuxedo carrying a slice of dark-colored sweet on a silver platter. Light shines through the translucent old man. Oh. They will be cursed if they don't eat this, won't they? Or will they be cursed if they do eat it? Which is it?

They accept the platter and split the sweet into halves. They gesture at Celia, telling her to eat one of the halves. Celia gives her trainer a look of concern. Luca bites into their half of the Old Gateau as if absolutely nothing was wrong, and Celia – though still concerned – follows. After that, they stand and bow at the old man ghost with a barely audible "thank you", then immediately depart from the kitchen and dining hall.

"If I'm gonna be cursed, at least I won't die hungry," they mumble to themself in between their hasty footsteps toward the second floor.

The hallway of the second floor is so long, the light of the flashlight fades off without revealing the end. There are many doors, but none that Luca can open. After the tenth door, a realization dawns on them: does the hallway even end? No. No, that cannot be right. They retrace their steps, but the stairs they climbed have disappeared.

Inhale. Exhale. "Damn."

They look left and right; the endless hallway and the mocking doors. The air is tense with a certain sense of wrongness. Celia huddles closer to her trainer's legs, shivering. Is this a curse or a Ghost-type Pokémon's doing? They have no idea, but they know they have to do something. They feel the Azure Flute in their pocket; should they summon Alfa now? No, they don't want Alfa to reveal his power in front of Mira – they left Chopin with him for a reason. So what they should do is….

"Celia, we're in a pinch, right? We need to do something, however dumb, right?" asks Luca. Celia coos, soft but raising in tone. "Okay, I don't know what would happen if it's a curse, so let's place a bet on it being a Pokémon's doing. Burn our surroundings with Flamethrower. Do it now! Go!"

The Cyndaquil hesitates at first, but her trainer's instruction is clear: they will break through this with force if they have to. Flame blazes on her back, from her mouth, then on the floor and the walls. The hallway burns brightly, but no smoke comes. A screech from the distance and a creaking sound from below; the floor under their feet falls apart with the encroaching flame. They fall down and down and—

"Where are we…? Ugh, my head…. Celia? Where are you? And where is my flashlight?" Luca feels around the floor in darkness until they touch a familiar shape; they pick it up and turn its switch back on. The light reveals what appears to be a library: the walls of this room are covered by bookshelves from one end to another. Just like everything else in the mansion, dust and disrepair envelope this room.

A rustling sound. Luca points the flashlight toward it: it's Celia, tottering toward her trainer. They sigh in relief. It seems the danger has passed for now, and with their adrenaline slowly wearing off, they begin investigating the library for clues of where Alfa's Plate may be.

Unbeknown to them, a shadow lurks hungrily in the corridors….

 

[silurica]

Chapter 11: Lost and Found​

The library of the Old Chateau covers various topics, from nature to technology to philosophy. The most recent books that they can find are dated around twenty years ago; could it be that was when the mansion became abandoned? There are notebooks scattered about as well, but the writings have faded and become illegible.

It will take a long time to check these books one by one, so they decide to try checking other rooms for clues first and return if needed. When they leave the room into a hallway, a shadow is lurking just outside, strangely serpentine and glaring with red eyes. Luca knows what to do now: "Celia, use Flamethrower!"

There is a distant screech again as the shadow is enveloped in flame. Luca takes advantage of the distraction to grab Celia and run as fast as they can. The hallway has become labyrinthine, twisting and turning in uncertain directions. Still, they run and run. They only stop when they hear a voice filled with urgency calling for them, "Hey! Over here!"

When Luca turns toward the voice, they recognize the green braid and green dress in front of them. "Miss Cheryl!"

"What? How do you know my name?" Her hand moves to her braid as she stares with suspicion. Before Luca can answer, she shakes her head. "Actually, never mind that for now. I know a safe place." The woman takes Luca's hand and pulls them into a room.

It appears to be a trophy room of some sort, filled with paintings and statues of even higher density than other rooms that Luca has entered. There are also shelves with various knick-knacks decorating them, and— The Plate! There is a dusk-colored stone tablet on one of the top shelves! They drag the nearest chair toward it right away, reaching for the item they have been searching for.

"Are you a treasure hunter or something?" asks Cheryl.

"Uh, no, not usually," replies Luca, their hand almost reaching the Plate – for the umpteenth time, they wish they were taller. "This belongs to someone I know, so…." Just a little more… their fingers topple the Plate over from its place, and thankfully it falls right into their grip. They let out a long sigh of relief; finally they no longer have to linger in this dreadful place.

After securing the Plate in their bag, they inform Cheryl about their situation: how they met Mira and learned her name, and how they ended up running around in the bizarre mansion.

"Mira…. Oh, I really made her worry, didn't I?" She shakes her head. "I only wanted to take shelter for a night, and… there was a lonely little girl. I realized she's a ghost – I mean, just look at this place – but I still felt pity for her. I thought it wouldn't hurt to play with her for a bit, and before I knew it…. Well, here I am now."

"And the ghost?"

"She left earlier, and not long after that, I heard your footsteps."

Knock. Knock knock knock. All three of them stare at the door. A shrill voice comes from behind it: "Cheryl…?"

"Just to be clear," Cheryl whispers, "I only have Chansey with me. Her attacks are ineffective against ghosts. It's… part of why I've been stuck here."

Knock knock knock knock BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG—

BANG. The door opens wide: it's the same serpentine shadow as before. "Let's play… Let's play…" Is it just their feeling, or did the shadow grow larger? It now has many arms – wings? – spanning across the room. No matter. Luca shouts, "Again, Celia! Flamethrower!"

Celia's flame envelopes the shadow, but it's unmoving. A hissing sound permeates through the air. "One of daddy's treasures is missing… One of… One of you took it… Thief… Thief… Thief—"

The shadow lurches forward – neither Luca or Celia can react to it fast enough. It wraps itself around Celia, raising her to the air. Her flame struggles to combust. Eventually, the shadow lets the Cyndaquil go, and she falls to the floor with a thud. She winces, crumpled and trembling as she struggles, but it soon becomes clear that she is no longer able to move.

"Celia!" cries Luca. With reluctance, they take out a Poké Ball from their pocket and call their partner back. They grit their teeth. "Sorry. You did your best."

"Give it back… Give it back…"

The serpentine shadow looms. Celia is knocked out, and Cheryl has no Pokémon with damaging moves. They tried to avoid this outcome, but this is the last thing they have up their sleeves: they take the Azure Flute from their pocket and blow into it as hard as they can.

A familiar, mysterious wave of power emanates from the flute. Golden light fills the room and everything, and it shall repel all malice. Nothing shall be beyond His gaze. Nothing shall be beyond His reach. Nothing shall—

"Come on! This is our chance!" Cheryl's voice snaps Luca out from the trance as she drags them out from the room. To Luca's surprise, whatever happened appears to have paralyzed the shadow. The two run, making their escape down the hallway.

Huh? It's peculiar, the geometry and layout of the mansion isn't as confusing as before – they may even call it normal. In no time, they have reached the foyer stairway. Downstairs, they can see Alfa with his hair down. Luca has never felt this glad to see that man.

That feeling is short-lived, however, as the serpentine shadow has caught up with them again. It lurches toward Luca; they close their eyes in fear.

The binding attack never came for Luca. They open their eyes and realize that something has frozen the shadow at its place when it's merely a finger away from them. Alfa is looking – no, glaring. His eyes shine red and green.

"Imitators." His tone is unchanged, yet there is a weight to it that Luca has never felt before. "I shan't forgive that arrogance of yours. Begone!"

With that single word, the shadow disperses into its true form: a great number of Ghost-type Pokémon – Gastly and Haunter, and Misdreavus and Mismagius. Within that chaos, the flickering shadow of a girl retreats into the dark hallway.

"Poor her," whispers Cheryl.

Night has fallen outside of the Old Chateau. Upon seeing Cheryl, Mira hugs the woman and bawls her eyes out. Meanwhile, Luca gives Alfa an earful of what happened in the abandoned mansion.

"There was a distortion in this building," explains Alfa after the barrage of complaints has stopped, "and your playing of my flute mended it for now, just like in Jubilife City." He then frowns. "Although I did not foresee those spirits doing what they did. Arrogant. Distasteful."

It's unusual to see Alfa grumbling like this; usually he is calm, even almost emotionless. But this…. No. Luca remembers now: it has been a while, but this feels a little like that time at Oreburgh Museum. They now realize that, perhaps, at that time they had stopped him from doing something regrettable.

"I'm sorry, Child of Light."

"Huh?"

Alfa's unexpected words brought them back to the present. Sorry? What for? As they wonder about that, they feel a weakness in their legs and fall to their knees – fatigue? Their vision wavers, but they see one thing: Alfa's pale hand, offered to them.

"I overestimated," he says. "I should have predicted this after Jubilife City."

"Luca? Are you okay?" asks Mira, with Cheryl following right behind her.

Luca takes Alfa's hand and gets back to their feet. It should be fine if they keep holding on to his arm for now. "I'm just tired, I think. Don't worry about it."

"That's right, we had quite an adventure," says Cheryl. "Why don't we find someplace to rest and have dinner together? I have a few Chansey eggs I can share."

At the mention of dinner and eggs, Mira raises her hand. "Oh! Oh! Leave dinner to Mira! Mira will make something tasty!" She exclaims, "And then as promised, Mira will give you the stone tablet from the forest, Mister!"

 

[silurica]

Chapter 12: The Eternal Horologist​

In the waiting lounge of Eterna City Pokémon Center, a man in white is in the middle of a light sleep when a chill brushes his cheek. He opens his eyes to the sight of his companion pressing a yellow can against him. "What is this, Child of Light?"

"Tsk, no reaction," murmurs Luca to themself. "It's a drink. For you."

The chilled can is pleasant to the touch. Luca sits next to him and cracks open theirs; Alfa follows after them. The drink is sweet and fizzy; a new taste for him.

"The nurse said Celia should stay here overnight," says Luca. "The paralysis was pretty bad."

"I see," replies Alfa. "One night for such a wound… time truly has changed."

"I'm glad it's just one night, and I wanted to take a look around this city anyway. This is a historical site, you know? It's too bad that apparently they don't hold the Dragon Dance Festival anymore though."

Suddenly, recollection hits Luca. They look into their bag – mentally noting how they should spare time to reorganize it later – and pull out a dusk-colored stone tablet from it. "Here, your Plate from the Old Chateau."

Alfa takes the Plate to inspect it. After staring at it for a moment, with a tinge of regret in his voice he concludes, "I was mistaken. This Plate carries fear, but not of spirits; this is the fear of cunning."

"Cunning? So it's a Dark-type relic?" Luca flips through their journal. Here, they learned this from Professor Linden: the Dark-type Plate is traditionally called the Dread Plate.

"I couldn't communicate with the spirits residing there even if I wanted to. Regardless, I'm grateful for your assistance, Child of Light."

Luca glances away and chugs down their lemonade. "You know, you could've told me that Mira had the Insect Plate."

The clock ticks. Alfa asks, "Does that matter?"

"Well, what if we didn't find her friend and she didn't give it to us? I mean, if you didn't sense your Plate, I wouldn't have entered the Old Chateau."

Condensed droplets of water trickle down to Alfa's hands. He answers, "I believed in the world, and it returned the favor. All shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well."

Ah, him and his cryptic logic again. Luca sighs. "Anyway, twelve more to go, huh? And the Flame Plate is still the only one compatible with my team…."

"We are making good progress, I say."

"I guess you're right. So, do you have any idea where the rest are?"

Alfa nods. "One of my children should be guarding a certain Plate… one that was cherished by a Draconic belief. It was for this reason I proposed this city as a destination."

"Then? What kind of odd— I mean, how is this one child of yours like?"

He takes another moment to consider the question. "A good boy."

Luca blinks. That is nowhere specific enough to find—

"Father? Is that really you?"

That voice belongs to a young man in a dark blue jacket, standing at the entrance. His silver hair – though short and choppy – and his red eyes could make him a splitting image of Alfa. There is no mistaking it: this must be the person Alfa spoke of. How fortunate that they did not have to look; did Alfa predict this?

"I heard from a customer there's a man who looks like me wearing all white," says the young man after approaching them, "and sure enough, it's you, Father."

Ah, Luca understands now: Alfa was relying on his conspicuous look to be found instead.

"Oh, Paley! Is this someone you know?" asks a nurse passing by.

"Yeah, my father," answers the young man. Alfa sips his lemonade without care.

"Mr. Paley… Senior?" She gasps. "Wow! Make sure to show him how the town has changed!"

He laughs as he makes a shooing gesture. "Anyway…." He turns his attention back to Alfa. "People still call me Paley, but I'd prefer it if you called me Daiya. And let's go to my workshop; we can relax and talk more freely there." Alfa stands up from his seat. When Luca stands up too, he asks, "And who are you?"

"Sometimes a traveling companion of your father, sometimes an underpaid intern," answers Luca.

Daiya leads them to a small shopping district near the ancient dragon statue. Unlike the tall apartments and offices in the middle of the city, the buildings in this district show clear signs of age, yellow as pages of an old book, with architecture from a bygone era. There are a few chic cafés and bars scattered about, perhaps looking to indulge in the romantic atmosphere of history, but most of the buildings remain shuttered.

The workshop that Daiya spoke of is one of the few businesses lingering in the quiet street. Above its door hangs a sign saying: Paley's Watch & Clock. The bell at the door chimes when it opens. Just as the sign suggests, clocks of many shapes and sizes adorn the walls of the workshop. The shelves contain watches and small mechanical parts. "I'm a horologist – you know, clockmaker and watchmaker – though I also dabble in contraptions of other kinds," he explains. "Say, are you a gym challenger?"

"No, it's not for me," answers Luca, quick and plain.

"Ah, shame. I designed the puzzle mechanism in this city's gym. It was a fun one."

While looking at a grandfather clock, Alfa asks, "How is your relationship with your sister?"

Daiya winces in reluctance. "Does that have to be the first thing you ask?" he asks, but when his father gives no response, he understands that the topic was unavoidable. "It's… fine. It's as good as you can expect from us."

"You are not fighting with her or anything of the likes?"

Daiya scratches his head. "Tiana lives in Hearthome, so we don't see each other often, but she looks fine on TV." He clicks his tongue. "I can't say I accept her being an idol though. I mean, she was already pushing it when she became the ambassador of Hearthome Sanctuary, but now everyone knows her face. Someone immortal shouldn't stand out that much. Moreover, now people know me as Top Coordinator Tiana's brother, and sometimes there are weird reporters looking for stories. Also—" He stops when he notices how he has rambled on and lets out a long sigh. "Will you go to Hearthome, Father? Maybe she will listen to you."

"…And that opinion of yours didn't escalate into a big fight?"

"Huh? No, but why do you ask? It's been just the usual stuff between us two."

"Dialga…."

Daiya tenses up from hearing his true name. Alfa takes his eyes off the clock to directly look at his son. Two pairs of red eyes stare into each other.

Without taking his eyes off his son, Alfa commands, "Answer me: why did I awake to torn and distorted fabric of spacetime?"

At that question, Daiya immediately throws himself down, bowing toward his father with his forehead touching the floor. "My deepest apologies, the Adamant Orb is cracked."

Alfa crosses his arms and sighs. "Stand up. You should have told me earlier. Why was it the Three Spirits that woke me up and not you?"

"I-I didn't want to," mumbles Daiya.

"Dialga."

He winces. "Father, I'm the guardian of time! I was supposed to protect my domain, wasn't I? So I spread my gears to fix the distortions as best as I could. There were many and—"

"They didn't hold," says Alfa, his words thrusting his son into silence. "We had to correct several of those on the way here."

Daiya casts his gaze downward. "Yes. My apologies, I will do better."

Seeing his son like that, Alfa rubs Daiya's head, messing up his hair. "Foolish. The flow of time wasn't the only thing broken. Why did you try so hard on your own?"

If Daiya had something to say, he now refuses to speak it, as he only bites his lip in frustration.

Alfa sighs. "Fine, at least show me the Adamant Orb."

Left with no other choice, Daiya walks toward the grandfather clock. He opens it, stops the pendulum with one hand, and gives the bottom part of the clock a push. It pops back upward, revealing a secret compartment. Hidden inside it are a stone tablet and a blue crystalline orb, which he takes and hands over to his father with another murmur of apology.

There appears to be no crack or defect visible to the naked eyes, but Alfa's widening eyes and Daiya's behavior tell a different story. "Just what," asks Alfa, "could happen to make the Orb turn this way?"

With a heavy voice, Daiya confesses, "I dropped my guard, and those Galactic scoundrels snatched the Orb from me." A frown forms on his face. "Did you see the weird, flashy building with all the spikes?"

"Only from a distance," answers Alfa. "We arrived in this city today and the Center took priority."

"I saw it on the news. It was built by Team Galactic, right?" Luca chimes in. "It's just as tacky as their uniform."

"Then you probably have heard of this rumor: according to the residents of Eterna City, the Galactic Eterna Building was built in one night."

"Oh, yeah, I heard that one. There were even speculations of mass hysteria or brainwashing, since how do you even build something that big in one night?" adds Luca. "It's unthinkable no matter how rich you are. Unless…." They look at the Adamant Orb in Alfa's hand.

Daiya clenches his fists. "I am ashamed that my power was used to make such an ugly building…"

"As you should be," replies Alfa without taking his eyes off the Orb. Daiya has a pained look on his face.

"Wait, was that really the only thing that Team Galactic used it for?" asks Luca. "I mean, they're a cult! An ambitious bunch! Wouldn't they want to do more with it?"

Daiya shrugs. "I guess they didn't have the chance to. You see, not long after the Orb was stolen, a skilled trainer arrived and helped drive them out of the city. I got my Orb back, but it was already too late – the Orb cracked from their poor handling and now controlling my power is a struggle."

Meanwhile, Alfa turns the Orb in his hands, examining every single surface of it. At last he concludes, "I can restore this. Prepare the Draconic Plate."

There is hesitation in Daiya's expression at first, but he nods and takes the stone tablet from the grandfather clock.

Alfa pulls off the ribbon tying his hair and gives it to Luca, summoning his golden wheel, and with it his divinity and power. He then places the Adamant Orb over the Draco Plate from Daiya. As he whispers unheard words, light begins to envelope him, brighter than what Luca has seen before. His long hair and his coat float gently in the flow of it all.

A crack appears on the Draco Plate. It grows longer, wider, covering all surfaces until finally the Plate can no longer hold its form and turns into dust. The Adamant Orb now glows with a fresh azure radiance.

Colors return to Daiya's face as he receives the renewed Adamant Orb. He can look at his father's face again at last.

When he does, the light in Alfa's eyes goes out and the man in white collapses to the floor.

 

[silurica]

Chapter 13: Eternity, too, is an Obstacle​

Daiya closes the bedroom door behind him. Upon noticing Luca waiting outside, he forces a smile. "I think he is just exhausted. A little sleep will restore him as good as new."

"Is he always like that?" asks Luca. When Daiya only looks instead of answering, they grow flustered and add, "Oh, uh, sorry if that's a rude question. I've only been traveling with your father for a short time, and he doesn't talk about himself a lot, so…."

The expression on Daiya's face softens. "Let's talk in the kitchen. I have Poffins."

Just like the bedroom, the kitchen is on the second floor of the workshop. It's small but clean and well-organized, with jars of spices decorating the counter. Daiya places a plateful of colorful cookies on the dining table as he asks, "Luca… right? What do you think about my father?"

Remembering the reactions they received from Eve and Sheila before, Luca asks back, "Do you want an honest answer?"

Daiya tilts his head, curious. "Honest answer, I guess."

"Well, he's… not bad, but he's hard to read, and I think he's kind of… weird," answers Luca. "Like, when I ask him what's in his mind, he gives me cryptic answers. He also gave me a weird nickname."

The young man chuckles. "Yeah, that sounds like him."

Huh. That was unexpected; he isn't upset that his father is called weird. Not just that, he agreed. Luca was already preparing themself to get a judgemental look for that. Still confused, they ask, "Can I give the Poffins to my Noctowl?"

"Hm? Go ahead," answers Daiya. He takes one of the Poffins himself and dips it into his coffee. "I hope you will forgive my father's awkwardness. He loves the world, but always finds himself out of place in it. That happens when you sleep pretty much all the time."

As they listen, Luca takes Chopin out from his Poké Ball and hand-feeds him the Poffins. The Noctowl is more than happy to accept the offering.

Watching the Noctowl, Daiya concludes, "Hmm, I guess it's fine to tell you more, since the old man probably won't bother. How should I put this…? Father may look powerful, but he's actually in a constant state of energy preservation when awake. Being connected to all veins of the universe will take a lot from you. Oh, he won't say it's tiring though, since he doesn't know what it's like to be not tired." He stirs his coffee and sighs. "Sometimes I wish Father could know too what it's like to not be a god. Me and my siblings are blessed in that regard."

"I noticed he would nap whenever we're not moving from one place to another. Is that why?" asks Luca.

"Oh, so you have seen him like that."

"I've never seen him fall asleep right after using his power like earlier though…."

Daiya leans on his hand, staring down with a distant look. "I guess that was because fixing the Adamant Orb wasn't a small task."

"Actually, question." Luca raises their hand. "Did the Draco Plate really break?"

"Yup. Didn't you see? That Plate is done for."

"I-Is that the only one?"

"The earth will produce another soon. No idea where it will be, though."

Luca pulls the Poffin they were about to give to Chopin – his beak snaps emptily – and instead eats it themself. They drink their coffee to clear their throat. It's setting in now. The realization is setting in. "This is… probably bad…."

Daiya raises an eyebrow. "Is there something wrong?"

"My agreement with your father was something like, I will help him find the seventeen Plates because he needs them to restore his power and fix spacetime. But since the Draco Plate is now gone…."

With every word, Daiya's eyes widen, until there is only a pure look of horror on his face. He stands up, slamming his hands on the table. "You should've told me sooner! I mean, Father should've— Argh!" He makes a mess of his hair and rushes outside of the kitchen.

Luca follows Daiya into the cramped hallway. Meanwhile, Chopin treats himself to another Poffin behind his trainer's back.

In no time, Daiya emerges from a room with a hard hat and a bag of mining tools. "We're going to the Underground. Now."

"But didn't you say you don't know where it will be?"

"I'm a dragon and his child. I will be able to sense it. Maybe."

Despite doubts about the Plate's location, Luca finds themself following Daiya to an establishment in the middle of the city, where mining tools and sparkling stones of many colors are displayed on the window. Daiya swings the door open with force and enters barging in. "Old man! Lend me a set of Explorer Kit!"

"Well, well, if it ain't young Paley!" The old man behind the counter strokes his graying beard. "I heard the news: Paley Sr. returned! And it just happens that my trusty old clock is growing late, so if it could get his blessing…."

"Sorry, old man, can't do now. Father is taking a good rest after the long trip. But I can take a look at it later," replies Daiya. "For now, one set of Explorer Kit. Please."

A redheaded, bespectacled young man comes over to the counter, staring at Daiya in the eyes. "What is this about? Did something happen to your kit?"

Daiya beams. "Oh, Roark! Good to see you here. Come help me in the Underground too."

There is a glint in Roark's eyes when he hears the word 'Underground'. He asks again before he can get carried away, "No, seriously, what is going on here? And who is that behind you?"

"Stuff happened, and now I need to find another Draco Plate. I know we can find one somewhere inside the earth of Sinnoh. Luca here," – Daiya points at the trainer – "is something like an assistant. They don't have their own Explorer Kit yet."

"Somewhere inside the earth? How do you know?" asks Roark, one eyebrow raised.

"Oh, let's say it's my family's trade secret. We've been maintaining the dragon statue for generations, after all."

"Somewhere?"

"Somewhere."

Roark pushes up his glasses, then shakes Daiya's hand. "Consider this challenge accepted."

"I knew I could count on you." Daiya grins. "I will tell you about another secret passage in Mt. Coronet after we find the Plate."

"Pair of digging maniacs, those two," says the old man to the befuddled Luca. "Roark was really happy when young Paley came to this city several years ago and started challenging him in matters of spelunking. But well, I get how fun digging and tunneling is! After all, they don't call me the Underground Man for nothing! Hoho!"

"Grandpa! No need to tell a customer about that," hisses Roark with an air of embarrassment. He brings out and places various items on the counter: hard hat, pickaxe, hammer…. "But well, honestly I didn't expect the heir of the legendary watchmaker would like spelunking as much as I do."

"What can I say, it's a recent hobby," replies Daiya – recent by the standard of an immortal dragon from the beginning of time, for sure. "Anyway, can we go now?"

From the Underground Man's house, they descend down to the cellars, and from there they descend deeper and deeper below. When they enter a larger passage, they know they have arrived. Roark decides to take the direction opposite of Daiya and Luca to expand their area of search. Although it's not before attempting to brief the Underground newbie on the intricacies of the tunnel networks and the workings of the treasure radar.

As they wave their goodbye to Roark, with his explanations still fresh in mind, Luca decides it's time to breach a certain topic. "Hey, Daiya, I've been meaning to ask… I heard the Underground extends throughout the entire Sinnoh region."

"Yup, just as Roark said."

"And we're going to look basically blindly? With no clue except for your dragon sense thing?"

"A-yup. I will find the new Draco Plate even if it takes eternity."

Ah. Luca was starting to think that Daiya has more common sense than his father, and while that may be true, they now realize that they may have expected too much.

Daiya raises the lantern over their heads, the brim of his hard hat casting a shadow over his face. "Welcome to Sinnoh's Grand Underground. It's dig or die."

 

[silurica]

Chapter 14: Two Gears of a Klink​

It has been a week since Daiya decided the best course of action for the Draco Plate issue is to literally scour the earth looking for it in the Grand Underground. Luca sits alone in the dark, next to a pile of Iron Balls of various sizes – things that they and Daiya wrongly excavated whenever he mistook a presence in the wall for the elusive Plate. When they are cursing at their luck, they notice the sound of footsteps and a bright light approaching.

"Heya! How is it going?" greets Roark, covered in dirt. "And where is Daiya?"

"He went to another passage alone," answers Luca, pointing toward the direction opposite of where Roark came from. "I'm taking a rest now since my hands feel sore."

"Still no luck, huh? Me too."

Roark sits himself next to Luca. At first, he only rubs his glasses, but after he realizes his glasses can't be any cleaner, he asks, "Hey, don't you think Daiya is acting weird? I know he enjoys being down here, but for some reason this feels different than usual. It's like he's rushing…."

"You think so?" asks Luca back. "Sorry, I don't actually know him that much yet… I've only met him recently."

"Ah, that's fine." Roark looks away and mutters, "Don't know him that much, huh… I've felt that way too."

Luca tugs on their scarf, hoping they word their question carefully. "So, uh, you're friends with him?"

"Friends, huh? I wonder about that."

"Is that not it? Your grandpa made it sound that way."

"Ahh, well, I guess it can sound like that," replies Roark. He hums, sorting through his memories. "You see, grandpa actually got my meeting with him slightly wrong; it was me who first challenged him to see who can find more prism spheres in an hour. I mean, he was looking at the spheres he dug up like he had no real interest in them, so I thought a little competition would bring some spice to it. It ended up being more enjoyable than either of us expected, especially with the traps and sabotaging, and we started to meet up regularly since then."

"That does sound fun," replies Luca. "How is he usually like?"

Roark nods. "A bit prickly and stubborn, but considerate in his own way. He has this air of mystery about him that's…." He trails off and covers his mouth, his eyes narrowed.

Before the silence can drag on, he waves his hand and continues, "Well, usually I'm busy supervising Oreburgh Mine and the gym, and he's busy with his workshop in Eterna, but down here I can feel like the two of us are the gears that make a Klink. We'd forget all that and mess around until we get tired."

They are friends, aren't they? Luca tilts their head, wondering about what happened between the two. There is a sense of uneasiness in the way Roark picks up a few pebbles from the ground and shifts them in his hands.

"And then Team Galactic's invasion of Eterna City happened. The crisis was solved, of course, but it left him looking pretty depressed, and he frequented the Underground less. So when he invited me for another spelunking challenge, I thought he had felt better, but…." He throws the pebbles; they bounce off the wall with listless thuds. "I wonder if I can call myself a friend if he won't tell me what is troubling him. I didn't even know he still had a father until recently."

"Oh, does it feel like…." Luca makes a catching motion with their hand. "When you think you got him, he already slipped away from your grasp?"

"Yeah… yeah! How did you know?"

"Oh, I was just thinking, it's like somebody I know," says Luca. It's just like Alfa. Daiya may not speak in a cryptic manner like his father, but being an immortal deity, he must be keeping people at arm's length, consciously or not.

Now they think about it, what do those deities think of people like them and Roark? Mere humans whose life can be snuffed out at any moment? Despite attempts to get closer to them?

"Well, we better get back to work too if we want to find that Plate." Roark stands back up and dusts off himself. "Thanks, Luca. I feel a little better now after talking about it."

"Yeah, anytime."

As the light of Roark's lantern disappears into the distance, Luca stands up as well and takes their pickaxe. When they turn at the corner into the passage Daiya went to, their light illuminates the very person that they just talked about with Roark; not digging or investigating the walls, merely standing at the corner. They cut to the chase: "Were you listening?"

"So what if I did?" asks Daiya back with a smile. When Luca doesn't answer, he turns away and says, "Let's look for the Plate again. After we find it…."

"Wait!" Luca drops their pickaxe, grasping for Daiya's arm. "Why do you try so hard on your own?"

"Why… you ask?"

Oh, no. They have moved without thinking or preparing for this. "Uh, your father asked you that, and you didn't answer, and it just… felt appropriate…. Sorry." They hesitate, but they let go of the young man's arm.

"Because it was all my fault," answers Daiya, his firm voice echoing in the passage. "Everything was. If I didn't lose my Orb that day, it wouldn't have been broken. If it wasn't broken, I wouldn't have grown weak and the fabric of spacetime wouldn't be torn so easily. If spacetime was still intact, Father wouldn't need to push himself that far." With each word, his voice grows more irate and tense. "In the first place, Roark and I should never have…."

He trails off, his hand halfway to making a mess of his already unkempt hair. But he clenches his fist and turns away. "Sorry. You can go back for today if you want. I will be looking for a while longer."

At first one thought crosses Luca's mind, but before they can give breath to it, another immediately obstructs it: you are a stranger. They swallow their words.

Upon returning to the workshop, they notice an elderly couple standing in front of the closed door. When they inquire about the couple's business, the answer is as expected: that they heard Paley Sr. has returned to Eterna City, and they wish to get something of theirs fixed for the sake of their grandchild who will embark on a journey soon. With reluctance, Luca sends the couple away before retreating into the workshop.

Something doesn't add up, they realize. Daiya complained about how his sister's disregard of their immortality is problematic, and yet some people in this city treat getting his handiwork like visiting a shrine for good luck. He would rather hide the fact that he's not human, but it seems he has done no more than shrug off such an odd treatment. Also, there is the matter of how people speak of Paley Sr. like an old friend despite Alfa giving all the impressions of having slept through at least the last century, if not more.

Meanwhile, Alfa himself has yet to wake up.

Luca takes a seat next to the slumbering deity. On the desk there is a personal computer and a small collection of books. Right above the monitor, there is also a shelf decorated with evolutionary stones and a jar filled with colorful spheres – those must be Daiya's treasures from the Grand Underground. Next to the pillow, there lies the ribbon usually tying Alfa's hair.

Alfa has never been the most talkative person, but now the silence feels long and heavy. They stand to open the window. Afternoon breeze blows the curtain, warm and gentle. In the distance, they can see the Eterna Galactic Building, imposing and sinister even with its tackiness.

Perhaps if that building didn't exist, they wouldn't be standing here. Perhaps they wouldn't have met a deity at Spear Pillar. What would they do in a world without 'Alfa'? Perhaps they would have returned to working as Professor Linden's assistant by now, after failing to catch a glimpse of Mesprit. They wouldn't have believed in myths and gods, and definitely not one as much a sleepyhead as Alfa or one filled with as much worries as Daiya.

They recall the words they almost said to Daiya. Despite everything, they haven't regretted meeting Alfa. Roark, too, perhaps doesn't regret his meeting with Daiya. They let out a long sigh. "I mean, just because he's immortal, that doesn't mean he has to keep a distance from everyone!"

They glance back at Alfa, who is still asleep. For some reason, they expected him to sit up and reply with a cryptic one-liner. They really have grown accustomed to his presence, haven't they?

When they look out of the window again, they see Roark staring up at them. Oh. Oh, no. Did he hear that?

 

[silurica]

Chapter 15: A Stitch in Time​

Luca rushes downstairs, their footsteps loud enough to be heard from outside of the workshop. The bell at the door rings out a frantic chime as they dart outside and yell, "Whatever you heard earlier, please forget it!"

Roark, with a smile on his face, narrows his eyes. "Was that supposed to be about anyone in particular?"

Oh, no. They made it worse. Good job.

"Anyway, is Daiya back home yet?" asks Roark.

"O-Oh. No."

Roark looks thoughtful for a moment, then asks, "Can I come inside?"

"Maybe if it's just the workshop…." murmurs Luca. "Daiya's father is sleeping upstairs," says the person who just made a whole racket going downstairs.

The door closes with another chime. Roark is observing the clocks on the wall and saying something, but his words don't stick in Luca's mind, as they only dearly hope that Roark won't pry further into what they said.

"By the way, have you heard of the rumors about the Paleys?"

"Huh?" Luca blinks. Roark is looking at them expectantly. "I'm sorry, the Paleys?" They have been digging all the time since coming to Eterna, no opportunity left for art or study. Luca wishes they could mine hours of time instead of useless Iron Balls if they were not to find the Draco Plate soon.

"Yeah." Roark nods. "There are old rumors surrounding this workshop and the Paleys, maybe even appropriate to call it a legend."

At the word 'legend', Luca's ears perk up at once.

"There's one that said, Paley's watches and clocks bring good luck. Another one said, the workshop only opens for seven years to protect the dragon statue, then the watchmaker will leave to make way for the next watchmaker. Also, it's believed that the workshop would only open its door for men with red eyes and silver hair."

"Wait," interjects Luca. The gears in their head turn as they start making sense of their limited observations. "Are you saying the Paleys come and go, and they all look similar? Throughout many, many generations?"

"Yes?" responds Roark, an eyebrow raised. When Luca says nothing more, he continues, "You see, Daiya never denied those strange rumors, and some of us even believe a few of them."

"They sure have that kind of power, stories," replies Luca with a voice that isn't quite there. In their head, they are still replaying the few interactions they had with the people of Eterna. They do have a hunch that Daiya must have a cover story about his family situation, but how readily people accept Alfa like an old friend still stands out to them.

Roark places his hand on one grandfather clock, looking at his reflection on it. "I wish I didn't lose to that power."

"It's not too late to change it," says Luca. They gasp, noticing what they blurted out, and quickly add, "I-I mean, do you remember the friend I talked about before? I think… I also want to know him better. It hasn't been going that well, but it feels like if I don't try I will come to regret it. But of course, if you don't feel the same way…."

Roark smiles and replies, "Yeah. You got a point. I was thinking that too." He gazes at the stairs at the back of the room. "I wanted to see what kind of person his father is, but… is it true that he is sick now?"

"Uh." Luca glances up. "Something like that."

"It's odd," he says, "I want to know more about him, but I still want to make sure if the rumors were true or false. From what I heard, we never had more than one Paley in town before…."

Luca glances away. Should they try asking what Roark knows? Or will they just make the situation of Daiya's identity even worse?

The bell chimes. Daiya stands at the door, his mining tools stashed away in the bag in his right hand. He winces with his mouth hanging open in surprise. "Roark?"

"Heya," greets Roark. "I wanted to pay a visit to your father, but it appears that's no good now."

"Oh, he'll bore you anyway," says Daiya as he walks toward the work desk in the corner. He throws his bag next to the desk with a loud thud. "That old man isn't good at conversation."

"Just like you when we just met?"

"Nah, worse," replies Daiya as he takes a seat, followed by a deep yawn.

Roark chuckles. "That would be a sight. By the way, how is the search going on your side?"

Daiya frowns. "Not well."

"Ah, same here." Roark leans on the grandfather clock and asks, "Actually, is there any reason why the Draco Plate and why there is no time limit?"

"I told you, didn't I? This and that happened, and now I gotta have a new Draco Plate. It's important for my family's tradition."

"What is this and that?" asks Roark.

Daiya stares daggers at Roark for the question, but the redheaded man doesn't flinch. He clicks his tongue. "It's not something that concerns you."

Roark doesn't flinch, but he does wince a little. "Maybe not, but I'm concerned about you. If it has to do with when Team Galactic…." He trails off. When Daiya gives no response, he draws a breath and says, "I want to be on good terms with you even if you're not human."

Daiya gives Roark a look. A look of many questions. A look that has put both of them in a corner.

"I mean, the whole Paley rumors are weird, aren't they? You play along like it's completely normal and you've been avoiding anyone finding out about your past before coming to this city," retorts Roark. "Also I overheard Luca speaking something about immortality, and I… I realized I don't know much about you."

Daiya throws a glare at Luca, who flinches at once. He stands up, but then sits back down again. He runs his fingers through his hair and mutters, "That's how it was supposed to be…."

Before that line, Luca had no desire to be involved in this conversation. They were even about to sneak upstairs. That was before that line, and before seeing how dejected Roark looks now. They stare down at Daiya at his desk, and with a pout says, "You know, it's probably not my place to butt in, but even your father wasn't that mean when I said I wanted to know him better."

Daiya stares back at Luca for a stretch of time, then he mutters, "This is all your fault."

"Damn straight."

Following that, Daiya stands up and walks upstairs without a single word. Roark moves closer to Luca and asks, "Was I too blunt?"

"He got what's been coming to him."

"…No," says Roark with a weak voice, "I… I shouldn't have put him in a corner like that. Even if he was just a plain old watchmaker, he must have a lot on his mind now. His father is sick, and whatever that happened to the Draco Plate…."

"But he kept things from you," mutters Luca. Like how his father kept the matter of his lethargy to himself, or how he didn't say anything about the Insect Plate, or how the Old Chateau was wrapped in a distortion, or how using the Azure Flute would be taxing on their body….

"That's… just how it is. Sometimes," murmurs Roark, one hand hovering over his mouth. "Aren't there things you don't want to talk about too?"

Luca pouts again. It's true that they haven't told Alfa much about their life before coming to Sinnoh, but it's a difficult matter for them, and there is no rush to speak about it either. Could it be that Daiya thought he could wait, too? After all, he would spend eternity looking for the Draco Plate if necessary.

No, it's not that. He said Roark wasn't supposed to know….

Just as suddenly as when he left, Daiya returns a moment later with a sullen expression and grumbles, "My siblings have abandoned me."

Luca and Roark exchange confused glances.

"Tiana even rubbed in the fact that I was found out before her." He slumps at the end of the staircase and hides his face with his hands. "I'm such a failure…."

Oh, dear. He has entered another negative spiral. The previously tense atmosphere is now tinged with awkwardness, but despite that – or perhaps because of that – Roark offers his hand to Daiya and calls him with a gentler, more careful tone, "Daiya? It's fine. My bad for bringing this up suddenly, so…."

However, instead of accepting, Daiya only throws a glance. "Laugh if you want. I was the one most careful about not revealing my identity, and yet."

"Why should I laugh?" says Roark, his hand still open. "And I will keep it a secret too."

Daiya is silent, considering Roark's words. After a while, as he casts his gaze on the floor again, he mumbles, "Sit down."

The redheaded man takes the invitation and sits next to Daiya, at the end of the staircase.

Only then Daiya whispers, "I knew you weren't a bad sort. Sorry. I didn't want either of us becoming too attached, but it's not like I wanted to make you upset. But now… uh… how should I say this?" He ruffles his hair.

Just as before, there is a dejected look on Roark's face. Still he asks, "You must have your reason, right?"

With a long sigh, Daiya confesses, "My true name is Dialga. I'm the guardian deity of time."

 

[silurica]

Chapter 16: It's You, Always Has Been​

At last, Daiya has confessed about his identity to someone. Not someone chosen by an authority of the world like Luca, but someone special in his own way. He takes a peeking glance; that special someone is looking at him with a blank smiling expression.

"What?" grumbles Daiya. "I said I'm Dia— Oh, forget it. You must be thinking this is ridiculous."

"D-Daiya!" calls Roark again. "It's just… I wasn't expecting you to be a god. Honestly, you don't give off that kind of impression."

"It's on purpose," murmurs Daiya.

Roark glances at Luca, as if trying to ask if what he heard was true. Luca, with the authority of experience, says to the sulking deity, "You know, your father convinced me by entering a Poké Ball. Maybe you should do that too?"

Daiya looks at Luca, his eyes narrowed and his mouth slightly hanging in disbelief. He mutters, "I'm so not going to do that."

Meanwhile, Roark is still smiling in confusion. He covers his mouth, then opens it again as he gestures with the same hand. "I mean, I've heard of Pokémon disguising themselves as human in fairytales, but…."

"It's real. That part is very real. Can't tell you the specifics more than what you already know though. Privacy matters." Daiya sighs.

"And the rumors?"

"Bogus, most of them. I'm Dialga, but I'm also just a horologist. It helps when people don't ask about my background though."

There is silence after that, as both mull over the doubts in their minds. The clocks in the room tick in unison, loud and clear in emptiness. Before the atmosphere can grow colder, Luca asks the first thing to come to their mind, "Why did you decide to live as a human here? You seem to be only hanging around, unlike your father."

"Why… I just got really irritated about the poor quality of timekeeping in this place one day," answers Daiya without care for delicacy. He tilts his head, one eyebrow raised, and continues, "I guess I also enjoyed the hustle and bustle, but then it became obvious how much I stood out, being immortal and all. So I travel the world to become a part of its fleetingness, but somehow I always find myself returning to this place."

Ah, things click together in Luca's head now. So that is the reason why there is a perception of many watchmakers, all with the same traits.

With a small voice, Roark asks, "So you don't hate m— humans, right?"

Daiya groans. "It was annoying when people pestered me because I'm powerful or whatever, but it's not like I hate your bunch in particular because of that." Shuddering, he adds, "Besides, my old man would be upset if I said something like that, and he's scary when upset."

"Is that so? Then do your best to not incur my wrath next time I come visiting."

Right on cue, Daiya stands up and puts himself out of the way, with Roark lagging behind him. Alfa isn't wearing his coat, hence there is less of white surface area for light to be reflected on his person, but he still has a faint glow about him – unlike his son.

"Thank goodness you're awake! I thought you'd sleep until we find the Draco Plate," says Luca, glad that their days of blindly digging in the dark may be coming to an end. "Why did you sleep for that long anyway?"

Alfa shoots a sharp gaze toward Daiya, who shifts slightly in his place with one hand reaching for his hair. The man in white then remarks, "There are less irregularities in the flow of time. It appears you have calmed the turmoil in your heart at last."

Redness rushes over to Daiya's face. He steals a quick glance at Roark and replies, "Yes, I'm fine now."

"Thus I was able to awake from my slumber," says Alfa, as if that cleared anything up.

While Luca tries – and fails – to fish out a less vague answer from the newly awakened deity, Roark musters up courage again. He draws closer to Daiya and takes the latter's hand to push something into it: a prism sphere.

"What is this?" asks Daiya, staring at the gleaming crystal. No, he knows what it is. What he means to ask is the meaning behind it.

"It's from our first race in the Underground," answers Roark with a sheepish grin. "That was fun, wasn't it? I still remember it well."

"Ah, I remember it too now." Daiya recalls with a smile on his face, "That really takes me back. I was new to the Underground back then."

He closes his hand, slow and gentle, as if holding a tiny egg. "Man, do I feel stupid," he says. "It feels like I owe you a whole bunch, I don't know where to begin."

Roark looks taken aback at first, but places one hand on his friend's shoulder and replies, "It's fine now."

When Luca has run out of steam, Alfa approaches the pair. A suddenness that puts Daiya on guard, but the only thing Alfa does is pat on Roark's head. No word, only that simple gesture. After that, he turns around and instructs Luca to accompany him upstairs.

Before Alfa can leave, Daiya takes a step forward to speak, "Father, regarding the matter of the Draco Plate…." he trails off. When Alfa halts in response, he continues, "I plan to continue looking for it, as I believe I still hold some responsibility for its disappearance. But I won't be alone."

"I will help out whenever I can too," Roark chimes in. "I'm the foreman of Oreburgh Mine, so I will know if the workers have uncovered anything unusual."

Alfa nods his approval. "Please do." With that, he disappears alongside Luca, leaving the pair alone with the ticking of the clocks.

Once upstairs, Alfa leads them back to the bedroom where he promptly sits on the only chair in it. The computer is running now, but Luca can't imagine Alfa using it – or any piece of modern technology – so Daiya must have gone here and used it when he disappeared earlier.

Looking at the glimmering stones and spheres on the shelf above the desk, Luca whispers, "I wonder if they will be fine. Daiya and Roark, I mean."

Alfa closes his eyes as he replies, "I care not as long as he remembers his duties."

"Wait, that's it?" asks Luca, but they receive no answer. At that moment, they see a shadow of a looming figure they haven't seen in years. Wishing to dispel that dreaded shadow, they ask, "I guess being a god is really important, but don't you care about what he wants to do, or… you know, whether he's… happy?"

Still no answer. They have never expected much from Alfa, but their chest still tightens with disappointment. If this is how he views his own son, perhaps he doesn't care about them either beyond their agreement. That's it. At the end, he is no different from—

"Happiness… no, any emotion is momentary for us," answers Alfa at last, opening his eyes once more. "We may treasure those moments, but never be chained by them, for we must keep moving on as long as this world lives. I trust that child to know and apply this."

Luca stares off into space, considering the deity's words. Their gaze flicks toward Daiya's treasures, then back to Alfa. That shadow no longer lingers, but it has been replaced by a different sort of uneasiness. "Is that why you didn't tell me anything about your drowsiness or how draining the Azure Flute is?"

"I merely saw no reason to speak of my condition," he says. "However, I should have told you about the Azure Flute. You have my apology, Child of Light."

"Then…" they whisper, "can you say my name?"

Once again, Alfa speaks no word, but his silence is answer enough for Luca.

"Ha," they mutter, "you sure act tough."

They hear footsteps approaching, and the door clicks open. It's Daiya, his face brighter than before. "Oh, there—" He stops and shakes his head. "Father, how do you feel?"

"I am well," answers Alfa. "How did your conversation with that human go?"

"His name is Roark," corrects Daiya. A soft smile forms on his face as he answers, "And yes, it went well."

When he notices his reflection in the mirror by the wardrobe, his face glows red and he covers his mouth. He stammers, "A-Anyway, can I borrow Luca?"

Luca shifts their feet. "Me?"

"Do as you wish," replies Alfa, moving his attention to the books on the desk. He takes one and begins reading it.

"Come on, then. Help me make dinner," says Daiya as he beckons to Luca.

Once in the kitchen, however, Daiya gives no task or instruction. He busies himself by chopping a cabbage – the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board is as steady as the ticking of his clocks – while Luca stands behind him in confusion.

"Uhm," Luca raises their voice, unable to bear the awkwardness any longer, "what do you need me for?"

The chopping sound stops. Daiya turns around, looking at Luca with intent, then sighs. "Okay, listen, I won't say how everything went was ideal, but…." He scratches his head with his free hand. "Well, thanks to you spilling the beans, I managed to mend things with Roark – I think – and I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier."

An apology is, to say the least, not what Luca expected. They blurt out, "Did Roark make you say that?"

"Oh, shush."

Luca giggles. This is fine. They don't sense a large distance in those words, unlike when a certain someone said it. After a moment of consideration, they say, "No, I'm sorry, I need to learn to stop talking without thinking too. And it's not me that you should thank; Roark came here to talk with you before he even heard that."

"He would, huh?" mumbles Daiya, now leaning on the kitchen counter.

"So you told him about everything?"

"No reason to hide it from him now," he says, his soft smile returning. "I guess it wasn't bad to talk about myself with someone other than my siblings."

All's well that ends well. It's a little reassuring to see he has a fondness for his friend, despite his circumstances and their differences. At the same time, Luca looks back at the hallway, toward the closed bedroom. They learned something new about their traveling companion today, but the words he said….

It was only for a moment, but they hope they won't be reminded of their own father again when they look at him.

 

[silurica]

Chapter 17: Under the Statue​

"Oh, you're still here."

Luca looks up from their sketchbook. Daiya is standing next to them, blocking the sunlight. The painter sighs before asking, "Not going to the Underground today?"

"I told you, I'm taking a break. I promised him I will," answers Daiya. "He— Roark has returned to Oreburgh too. Father went to sleep again after making sure there is no other Plate in this city, and now I have nothing to do."

"So…?"

"Look, I'm bored, okay? Entertain me."

Before Luca can protest, Daiya sits on the bench without disturbing the assortment of tools placed by the painter's side – a dirty pouch of stationery, a small palette of primary and secondary colors, brushes of varying sizes laid down on tissues, and two paper cups filled with water. A Cyndaquil sits close to Luca's feet, chewing on berries in the sunlight.

The bench faces the hill where Eterna City's treasured dragon statue stands, towering over the aged buildings around the hill. In the distance, Mt. Coronet continues on, defining the horizon with rough and sharp shapes. This scenery is reproduced in Luca's sketchbook with precise lines and loose colors.

"You draw well," he comments.

"Thanks," replies Luca. And they could have done this sooner if they weren't stuck in darkness for a week.

Let's see, brown would be good to use next for defining the statue. They mix orange and blue together in a free space on the lid of their palette to create the shade they desire. Today is warm, if a little windy. The sunlight is reflected on the bronze in a gentle way, following the curves of the ancient deity's heavy armor plates and wings—

Their hand stops, and once again their attention shifts from their work to Daiya. Pointing at the statue, they ask, "Hey, is that you?"

"I was hoping you won't ask me that," replies Daiya with a half-smile. The painter keeps staring at him. He pulls the tip of his hair and curls his mouth. They are still staring. Shrinking, he says, "Oh, fine. Yes and no. The people in this area used to believe that me and my siblings were one, their stories about our true forms became mixed up, and this was the end result."

"Huh, that explains the overcomplicated look."

He snorts. "Tiana said that too. Oh, and she also said it's ugly, but it grew on me since it's proof that what we do is appreciated."

It must be nice to be appreciated. The statue may have too many details for its own good, but there is still strength in its stance and how it overlooks the city – or at least the old buildings around it. They look back at their painting and try to imagine what such a position could mean; the image of someone on a bright podium – silver eyes gleaming under the light – forms in their mind. Something lurches in their chest.

"I've read that there are supposed to be inscriptions on the base of the statue," says Luca, tracing their thoughts back to the present, "but when I checked there's nothing of the like."

"Ah, that." Daiya scratches his head. "Team Galactic stole the plates with the inscriptions and we never managed to retrieve them."

Luca pouts. "Team Galactic again…."

"I think I will commission new plates for the statue. The old inscriptions were already faded and hard to read anyway. It's a good excuse to replace them, and if I'm lucky maybe this time I can get support to bring back the third plate too."

"The third plate?"

"Oh, right. There used to be a third plate, but…." He glances about – there is nobody beside the two of them and the Cyndaquil. "Well, there was an incident and opinions on Giratina haven't improved since. Have you heard the stories?"

Giratina, the third, oft-forgotten dragon that governs the universe alongside Dialga and Palkia. Luca has only learned of its existence from reading about the triangular Mystri Stage, each of its corners representing a dragon. The Mystri Stage, and obscure folktales about….

"About how Giratina is violent and was banished for it?" asks Luca.

"Exaggerations and bogus," says Daiya with a huff. "That Giratina… they said they don't mind the reputation since they never leave their domain that often anyway, but it's still not right. Giratina was just… clumsy."

"Clumsy? Wait, what happened?"

"Uh, this and that. It's kind of embarrassing." He waves his hand, dismissing the memory. "You should ask Giratina if you ever meet them…. Actually you probably will, knowing how Father works."

They will, huh? Just how far will Alfa bring them along for his quest, they cannot tell. Judging from the number of his Plates, there is still a while to go. Perhaps that's fine. That's more time they can spend without having to worry about returning to Johto. More time they can spend drawing in peace, when nothing strange is happening. They dip their brush in, picking up the brown they have mixed, and trace a fine line on the paper.

"You know, you are surprisingly blase about all these. Almost apathetic, even," remarks Daiya. "Is it Father's influence rubbing off on you?"

"Apathetic?" asks Luca, eyes focused on the trajectory of their brush.

"I mean, you're helping Father collect his Plates like it's completely normal."

Luca furrows their brow, and their hand halts again. This is normal, isn't it? This is how it went when they traveled with Professor Linden: assisting the locals, fetching artifacts from places, and drawing illustrations of ancient relics. "I just don't want to disappoint my mentor if I can't learn anything from your father. Also things have happened since, so…."

Daiya tilts his head, waiting, but nothing more comes from Luca. He scratches his head again. "So… you said Father proved he's not human by entering a Poké Ball."

"Yeah. Yeah, he did. So did you do that too?" asks Luca, now swirling and swirling their brush, struggling to blend the brown with the yellow they applied earlier. Damn. They were distracted for too long.

Daiya glares at the painter. "Hell, no. Not in a thousand years. Not ever. I don't know what Father thought of—" He shakes his head and clarifies, "I mean, was that really all it took to convince you that he's… you know, the Arceus?"

"I didn't think Arceus was real, so…." Luca trails off. The thought of shooing Daiya away so they can focus on their painting crosses their mind, but they dip their brush into one of the cups of water – the water is dark and muddled – before placing it down. They continue, "Well, there was a lot I didn't believe at first, but then he started doing more weird things like descending from Mt. Coronet very fast and absorbing the Flame Plate."

"You know, he could've been a powerful psychic," suggests Daiya.

Luca taps on their sketchbook. "Can you do all of that with psychic power…? Huh. I've… I've never thought of that. But that wouldn't explain why he was at the Spear Pillar…." They push up their glasses to rub their eyes. "Anyway, I started to believe him a little when he saved me and Celia."

"And Celia is…?"

"Ah. This Cyndaquil here is Celia." Luca gestures at the Pokémon curling by their feet. The berries are now gone, and the temperature is perfect for a nap.

"Huh, funny," remarks Daiya, his eyes now fixed at Celia. "She smells a little like Father, now you mention it."

Luca raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Not literally, but it's the best way I can say it." He leans forward, wrapping his hands around the Cyndaquil. As he puts her in his lap – the small Pokémon looks at Luca and coos in confusion – he adds, "Yup, it's an old scent. Did Father lend her a piece of himself?"

Luca gives their partner a scratch on her head to calm her down. As they do so, they trace their memory back to figure out the answer to Daiya's question. A piece of Alfa? That's vague. Lending a piece of… lending… wait, could that be?

Once it clicks, the memory of it grows vivid: the warm touch from the man in white, grazing their skin; a brilliant orange hue eradicating the dark; the little spring in Celia's steps; their own breath, taken away.

Their hand has stopped moving. With a quiet voice, they ask, "He boosted her firepower by touching her head, is that what you mean?"

"That sounds like it," says Daiya, rubbing the Cyndaquil's head. "Lucky little one, aren'tcha?"

"It didn't last more than one day though."

"Nah, it usually doesn't."

Luca gives the Cyndaquil another scratch and runs their fingers on her back, feeling the warm red spots where her flame can burn the brightest. She turns around in her place and nuzzles their hand.

Celia, probably, was changed by that contact. Or at least, something about her changed – something that can be sensed only by someone like Daiya even after time has passed. If Celia had changed in a notable way, they should have noticed by now. After all, the two of them have been together for years, through good and bad times.

Now the question of what will remain in their mind. Perhaps they should ask Alfa about it, but Daiya's demeanor gives them no impression that it should be something to worry about.

What they know for sure is how this thought will distract them from finishing their painting for the rest of the day.

 

[silurica]

Chapter 18: A Crowned Meeting​

"How… are you… so nimble…?" asks Luca in between gasps for breath.

Ahead, Alfa gazes at them from on top of a large rock, neither the cold morning air nor his heeled boots hinder his movement.

This is Route 211, the route connecting Eterna City and Celestic Town through one of Mt. Coronet's tunnels. The entrance of the tunnel is just ahead. Looking back from this height, they can see the sprawling city and the dragon statue as a vague bronze thing on top of a hill.

After Luca had their fill of the city, it was decided they would continue their journey. They don't have their own mode of transportation, and bus tickets would eat into their budget, so taking the more direct route to Hearthome City through Route 207 by Oreburgh City was out of the question.

When they decided on the route, Luca only thought of how they wanted to go to Celestic at some point, and making it a part of the trip seemed efficient. Here they are now, trekking through Mt. Coronet's rocky pathway again and running out of breath, unable to keep up with their companion's pace. Even Celia is pawing on them with pity.

Despite difficulties, they finally reach the tunnel entrance. The path ahead is lit by bioluminescent lanterns. Luca breathes a sigh of relief; after the rocky pathway, they have feared the path to the remote Celestic Town would lack in lighting compared to the path connecting Oreburgh City and Hearthome City. This means they get to reserve the battery of their flashlight and Celia can relax.

"In the past," says Alfa, "people would use torches for passages often used by merchants. How interesting it is to see that this custom hasn't gone through many changes."

"I guess it's because installing electricity would disturb the wild Pokémon population, so lanterns it is," replies Luca, imagining blazing torches in place of the lanterns. Perhaps that would have excited Celia more.

Time passes oddly in such a dark and quiet place. No sunlight, no people absorbed in their daily activities. One could get lost in the false eternity, here in the twisted maze of Mt. Coronet. It isn't without danger, but Luca finds a strange sense of comfort in being wrapped in such darkness.

Instead of people, wild Pokémon watch them curiously from behind boulders and crevices. When the group stops for rest, a few of them gather the courage to approach, but Alfa sends them away one by one with a gentle gesture. Even so, they can spot several Pokémon following them when they start moving again.

Soon their number dwindles, and the reason for it becomes clear.

In the faintly lit darkness, they catch a glimpse of white. It's a figure in white coat, on the back is a golden teardrop-shaped prism, resembling a piece of revival medicine. The figure turns around when they come closer, revealing a familiar face. "Oh! You are those two from Jubilife! Long time no see," greets Ervilia with a wide, sharp smile.

Luca freezes at once. Even in this faint light – or perhaps because of the faint light – Ervilia still cuts a beautiful figure. Consider the swish of her coat, the clicks of her boots on the hard ground, the—

"Ow!" Luca yelps. Something sharp prickled their skin. When they look down, they see Celia clinging on their leg. They whisper to the Cyndaquil, "What was that for?"

"Fancy meeting you here," says Ervilia with a giggle. "Judging from the direction you came from, I guess you two are headed to Celestic Town?" She looks at Alfa, who has trailed behind Luca for some reason. "Right?"

"That's correct…." mumbles Luca. They feel if they don't watch their words, they'd end up saying something regrettable. "How about you, Miss Ervi?"

Ervilia places one finger under her lips. "I was actually at Eterna a while ago, but I was chased away. I didn't realize a watchmaker could hate journalists so much."

Ah, Luca understands immediately: Ervilia, a journalist, had met Daiya. The horologist's rant about his celebrity sister and invasive journalists comes to their mind. Combine that with his already dismal mood, and they can see how it could have gone wrong.

"Now I'm just hanging around training Alnico here and hoping the mountain's magnetism would encourage it to evolve," Ervilia continues, gesturing at the Magneton levitating next to her. Before now, Luca didn't notice both the Magneton and the Salandit by the woman's feet.

While lifting a heavy-looking bag from the ground, Ervilia proposes, "I know, how about I come along until the exit? Alnico can fight off dangerous wild Pokémon; I'm sure that will be a good experience for it!"

"Y-Yes! Of course!"

That was close. Just now, Luca felt as if their heart would jump out of their throat. The matter of how wild Pokémon act within Alfa's presence has completely escaped their mind.

Alfa himself, meanwhile, crosses his arms and mutters, "Is this necessary, Child of Light?"

Luca winces. "What do you mean by that?"

"Aw, am I in the way?" asks Ervilia, her voice quieter than before.

"No, of course not!" declares Luca, waving their hands. They look at Alfa again and whisper, "Come on, don't be unreasonable now. There is nothing wrong with Miss Ervi. And she's got a point: there is safety in numbers."

The man in white stares down at his companion, his questioning look unchanging. Despite that, he eventually sighs and relents. "Very well. I will allow it."

Luca's heart is racing. This won't last for more than the rest of the day, but this is still a precious chance to know Ervilia better. Who knows if they will have another of such a fortunate opportunity? They have to make the most of this.

As they walk together, however, Luca's mind has become a sea of chaos, struggling to find a conversation topic. Anything! Anything to not let the atmosphere grow stale! No, not the weather, there is no weather in this cave. Anything….

Luca blurts out, "I didn't know you're a trainer too, Miss Ervi."

They want to run outside of the path outlined by the lanterns. In this day and age, who is not a Pokémon trainer? Even keeping Pokémon at home as companions requires trainer registration. Moreover, she has been accompanied by a Salandit all this time.

"Yup! It's good to see that we both like Fire-types," replies Ervilia while the Salandit climbs up to her shoulder. She makes a V-sign with her fingers and frames her mouth with it. "Some people say I look like Salandit. Do you see it?"

Luca can see how adorable she is for sure. They will burn this image into their memory.

"But I'm an adult, so I guess I'd look more like a Salazzle!" Ervilia's laughter echoes in the cave and in Luca's mind.

"I-I get something like that too sometimes." At this moment, Luca wishes they could speak more eloquently. "Apparently I look like a Cyndaquil when I'm not wearing glasses, but that's just because I can't see."

"Isn't it also because you're small and cute?" says Ervilia, laughing again.

A gasp escapes from Luca's mouth. "Small" is a difficult word for Luca, but "cute" is new to them and they have no clue how to answer it.

While Luca mumbles indistinct words in search for a response, Ervilia looks behind them and asks, "How about you?"

As typical of Alfa, he doesn't answer immediately. The length of silence this time almost gave the impression that he wouldn't answer, but he does, and with a surprisingly sensible answer too. "While I do receive help from the world, I am not what you would call a 'trainer' as I do not make a bond like what is shared between the Child of Light and their little flame."

For a few seconds, Ervilia's smile slips into a grin. Alfa scoops Celia from the ground and holds the Cyndaquil close to his chest, making her chirp in confusion.

Meanwhile, Luca has realized something and gathered the courage to ask: "Oh right, Miss Ervi, we met at Jubilife and both headed to Eterna, but how did you arrive first?"

"Oh, that's because I have a flying permit to take a more direct route, so to speak," answers Ervilia.

"That's amazing, Miss Ervi! I heard the classes for obtaining a permit can be difficult, so I…." Luca trails off and shakes their head. "I-It's not like I got discouraged because of that. I also have my own studies to do, and… and traveling on land allows me opportunities to learn. Sometimes I come across interesting sceneries too, and…."

Strange, their voice stops coming out. A familiar feeling stirs in them, strangling, prickling. There was no lie in their words, but they get the feeling it's nothing that should have been spoken of either. Not this way.

They pull their beret down, just enough to block their sight of everyone else. The darkness has never felt more comforting.

Before they know it, they have reached the end of the tunnel. The sky is orange from the setting sun, blending into the purple of dusk and the darkness of the night. The treacherous mountain terrain continues on ahead, and a settlement lies in the middle of it all – Celestic Town.

"It's beautiful," says Alfa, walking next to Luca. "Don't you wish to immortalize this, Child of Light? You can take your time – your little flame and I will find a place to stay for the night."

Luca's face brightens from the offer. Alfa, helping with the camp instead of doing nothing but watching them? Will the sky fall next?

…Perhaps it will. Their face sours with the realization. "You've been acting odd today. More than usual."

Alfa speaks neither a confirmation nor a denial. Nothing at all. Celia, still in his arms, coos softly.

"Well then, looks like this is where we part ways," says Ervilia with a smile.

"A-Already?" Luca stutters. Ervilia's voice still rings in their mind.

"I still want to get a little training in for Alnico. Right?" she says to the Magneton, who spins in its place in response.

Alfa takes a step forward, putting himself between Luca and Ervilia. Meanwhile, Celia jumps down to the ground and scampers to her trainer's side. Before Luca can ask what the matter is, he demands, "Answer me, human. What is it that you carry on your person?"

Luca shoots a look at their companion. Just what is he going on about?

Ervilia looks taken aback too at first. Her smile returns as she replies, "Oh my, that's a rude way of talking. Didn't expect that from you, but I guess I don't hate it."

"I find it difficult to believe that you are only waiting for your companion to grow," confesses Alfa. No, rather than that, the way he looks at her is closer to scrutinizing. "If your story is true, then you have been waiting for more than a week – as long as the period that I and the Child of Light spent with the very horologist that chased you away. Most humans aren't creatures willing to be idle for so long."

"I have a name, you know? Or would you deny me a name just like you do to that kid?" asks Ervilia. It's not a question that expects an answer. Her sharp sneer truly matches the Salandit on her shoulder.

When Alfa gives no response, Ervilia shrugs, places her bag on the ground and opens it. Inside it are shards of many colors, broken and incomplete. Luca can't make heads or tails of the curios, but they catch Alfa muttering something under his breath. What was it? Butcher?

"I didn't lie about helping Alnico evolve, but my main objective was this. Pretty, aren't they?" says Ervilia as she picks up a blue fragment. "I don't suppose you can introduce me to Eterna's watchmaker? I heard he is quite knowledgeable about this mountain…."

That was another question that expects no answer; or rather, Alfa's cold gaze is a sufficient answer by itself.

Ervilia closes her bag and stands up again. "Anyway, that was fun, wasn't it? I hope we will see each other again. Don't you agree, Luca?"

Surprised to hear their name spoken, Luca jumps a little before replying, "Y-Yeah! Let's meet again!"

With that, Ervilia waves with a pleasant smile and takes her leave, back into the depth of Mt. Coronet. Alfa, too, turns his back on the scene, making his way down the path without wasting any moment.

Later that night, the only thing he will say on the matter is that one ought to treat even broken things with respect.