Child of Thorns - A Pokemon Sinnoh Reimagining

Saturn's offer of coffee was met with a couple glares of distrust. Not at the coffee itself, of course, and it wasn't entirely on purpose either. He couldn't blame Rowan's… no, Lucas' lab assistants for being weary of him, considering his past. The two of them, Luke and Rika seemed to see the boy as something of a younger brother. And who wouldn't be distrustful of their younger sibling not only cooperating but also entering a relationship with an ex-member of Team Galactic?

Still, at least they were polite enough to wipe that look off their faces quickly. They each grabbed their cup of coffee and thanked him with a curt smile, though they said nothing more.

"Do you want some, Lucas?"

"Hm? O-oh, yeah, thank you! Just put it here, I'll get to it in a second."

"Er… where, exactly? There's not much room left…"

This part of the lab in which they were working looked like the most professional disaster Saturn had ever seen, and considering the state Jupiter and Charon's labs were usually in, that was saying something. The only spot on Lucas' desk not covered by papers and sheets full of information was the one occupied by the keyboard, on which the boy tapped away at those keys as though his life depended on it, his fingers a blur. The other two's desks weren't much better. Lucas had said before that if Rowan were here to see the state of his lab his mustache would probably start fuming, but with circumstances as they were, they didn't have the time to be worrying about tidiness.

"Oh, right. Here, lemme just…"

Lucas grabbed the cup of coffee with his hands instead, since there was no more room on the computer desk. He took the moment to breathe in before taking a sip. Luke and Rika did the same a moment after. Three identical sighs of relief filled the room.

"Ah… thank you. Delicious as always," said Lucas, staring up at him with a beaming smile. "I'm sure the professor would've sang you praises for a cup of coffee like this. He loved the stuff."

Saturn returned the smile nervously, feeling a pang of guilt set in his stomach. After all, the reason the professor wasn't here…

"Then we'll just have to rescue him and have him try it out," said Luke.

"Y-yes, I guess you're right," muttered Lucas. "Though… I really don't know if I should be the one leading this project. You two have seniority and–"

Luke rolled his eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh. "Ugh, come on Lucas, that again? It's not gonna hurt you to have a little more faith in yourself, man."

"Well…"

"Rowan might've had us under his wing for longer, but in your short time here you not only caught up to us, but blew right past us," Rika pointed out. "And you're the one most familiar with his research here. It's only right you should take the lead."

Saturn couldn't help but grin a bit, not only at the redness and look of embarrassment on Lucas' face, but also in appreciation that these two understood just how amazing his boyfriend was. Everyone should, after all.

"I-I, well…" Lucas looked down at his desk again, avoiding everyone's eyes. "G-guess I gotta give it my all, then."

"We're counting on you," said Luke.

"Though I'm not letting that be code word for 'I'll let you do all the job while I laze around'," Rika glared at her partner. "Come on, we have to go get that oscillator for the machine. With some luck we can get the Sunyshore Institute of Technology to lend us some."

Luke rubbed the back of his neck in irritation. "Right, right. We need the 3mm one, yeah?"

"That's the one, yes!" said Lucas.

"Gotcha. We'll be back in a few hours, you two take it easy."

Saturn wasn't sure Lucas knew the meaning of 'taking it easy', as he'd seen these past few days. If he didn't remind his boyfriend to eat and go to bed every once in a while, he was pretty sure he would've been working day in and day out.

Still, it was nice to have a little bit of time to themselves amidst all the chaos and anxiousness these past few days. He figured he had until Lucas finished his coffee to enjoy it.

"You've got good friends," he said. "No wonder you ended up like this with those softies and Rowan acting as your teachers."

"Haha… You should include Rowan in the 'softies' group, trust me," said Lucas. "Really though, I'm nowhere near their level when it comes to this stuff. I just happen to know a bit more about the professor's research than them."

It wouldn't kill you to take a compliment for once, Saturn thought, though he didn't vocalize it.

"Anyway… that's it, hm?"

"I–yes, this is the finished blueprint. I wish I had more time to polish it, but…"

He didn't need to say it; time wasn't on their side. Even managing to come up with a blueprint like this in only a few days was incredibly impressive, and assuming they were able to assemble the device in the time they had left, it would soon be even more so.

The blueprint currently shown on the screen was… hard to read. Charon had taught him to read highly-technical blueprints such as this in the rare event that it might become useful in the future, but that had been a long while ago. As time had passed, Charon and Jupiter had grown more and more secretive when it came to the technology they were developing, a flag so fragrantly red that only a blind man could have missed it.

Blinded by faith. By naiveté…

"It looks kind of like a stake," he said, trying to keep his thoughts off those familiar regrets. "Or a very complicated-looking needle."

"That's the idea," sighed Lucas, looking up at his creation. "I wish I could've found a way to make it small enough for it to be a projectile, but that would've taken time we don't have."

Saturn folded his arms and nodded. "So if push comes to shove, someone or something will have to manually stab this into that thing, huh?"

"It's not perfect by any means, so let's hope Maylene succeeds and it doesn't come to that. But just in case…"

Just in case. Those words bothered Saturn more than he cared to admit. This plan, these pieces that Cynthia, that wretched woman, had put in place… 'just in case' and 'with some luck' seemed to be part of all of them. He'd tried his best not to think about it these past few days, to keep himself occupied as best he could, but every time he let his guard down, the same thought came to him.

So many things could go wrong. A single slip from any of us is all it would take to seal our demise.

He supposed that was why Lucas had come up with this. This was their particular 'just in case'. If Maylene were to fail, if she couldn't stop the creation of that clone of Mew in time…

And to think it was a plan that wouldn't have even been possible were it not for Rowan's interference.

"This was all detailed in that piece of paper he slipped into your pocket that night?"

Lucas swallowed down another sip of coffee and shook his head. "Not… really. The slip of paper just pointed me in the right direction."

"Eventually, he would've told Cyrus what he wanted to know. So he must've gave in already. He trusts you'll find a way to neutralize what Cyrus gained from that information," nodded Saturn. "With this."

As Lucas stared up at the screen, at his creation that they would soon have to start building, the anxiety and nervousness he felt inside shone through his face as though it were transparent. Yet when he spoke, his voice only shook a little.

"The energy they'll use to speed up that clone's growth… it's the same that Pokemon exude when they evolve. And it's the same energy they use to fuel their attacks. In most species, it builds up over time inside their bodies, growing and replenishing faster the more of it they spend. And when they gather too much for their bodies to cope… the bodies themselves change.

"Knowing this… told me there's a way to reverse the process. I… actually got the idea from that weird stone Cynthia spoke of," he smiled. "The idea of trapping the essence of a Pokemon attack inside of a stone…"

"You already asked her to contact the mediums in lavender, I assume?"

Lucas nodded. "They agreed to give us a few of them with the essence of the move Spite inside of them. If I can manage to extract the essence from them and put it inside this device…"

Saturn understood. If the worst case scenario came to be and this clone of Mew was born, this device would be their best bet to stop it in its tracks before it could deal any serious damage to their counter-offensive. By piercing the creature with it, they would be able to drain it of all of its energy, rendering it unable to use its psychic powers for a short time.

It wasn't a perfect plan, nor a perfect solution. Piercing such a Pokemon with something like that would be extremely difficult, and even if they succeeded, the creature would still possess an incredible amount of physical prowess and versatility.

He let out a breath, but none of the tension in his shoulders evaporated with it.

We should just hope it doesn't come to that.

He'd been telling himself those words over and over again for the past few days in a vain attempt to quell the fear and guilt inside of him. Unfortunately, whenever he thought them, another sentiment followed right after.

If it does, you know it'll be your fault.

Lucas must've noticed his distress, because he went as far as to let his cup down atop some very important-looking documents just so he could pull his arm around Saturn's waist and give him a small hug from where he was sitting. The tenseness in his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.

"I wish I could do more," he whispered, almost unconsciously. "Jupiter and Charon were the brilliant ones. I was just there to keep things moving."

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I wouldn't change you for either of them," whispered Lucas. "Especially not Jupiter. Some of the stuff you've told me about her…"

"Oh, yes, she is by far the most rotten woman I've ever had the displeasure of working with. And considering I also worked with Mars, that's saying something." Saturn chuckled drily. "And yet she is one of the most brilliant minds of our generation. Funny how genius works."

Lucas leaned back from the hug and looked pensive for a moment. "Yeah… she must have been. I mean, some of the technology Team Galactic developed… it's hard to believe they could make do with the materials they had."

At that, Saturn's brows furrowed. A curious thought came to mind, something he hadn't quite considered until now.

"We didn't get all our supplies from the black market, actually."

"Hm?"

Saturn looked up at the screen and frowned. "There was… someone else. Another 'contractor' Cyrus was working with. I… never got to talk to him in person, but he was an Unovan scientist. Colress I think his name was."

Lucas' eyes went wide like plates. He lost his voice for a moment.

"C-Colress? You mean… the one that worked with those terrorists in Unova all those years back? The one that created that machine that drew power from the shell of Kyurem to freeze an entire city?"

Saturn pursed his lips and gave a reluctant nod. "Apparently, he got the idea from the device that Kalosian king used 3000 years ago to destroy half the region."

Lucas' face paled. "And… he's still out there? Free?"

"They were never able to find him after the Unovan incident. As far as I know, he wasn't truly part of that terrorist group, he just… lent them a hand. Used them in order to develop his own technology," he said, then added with a sour tone. "Much the same way he used us, I'm sure."

"That's…" Lucas shook his head. "T-the professor actually mentioned him to me… not in a very good light, obviously. The scientific community's been trying to track him down for a while. From what he told me, he was last seen in Alola a few months back."

"He's a busy man for sure," muttered Saturn. "I'm sure at this point he's run out of fingers to put in all these different cakes."

Yet despite the fact that both of them changed the topic rather quickly, despite the rest of the day passing by without anyone else mentioning the man, Saturn couldn't help but think back to him a few times throughout the rest of the day. And every time he did, the same question popped up in his mind.

Just what is all that research of his for?

He figured not even the imminent end of the world could stop certain dark clouds from gathering in the far horizon.

In her over twenty years of serving as the Morow's housekeeper, Laritzia had never felt such happiness at answering the phone for Master Arran.

"I will be there in a few minutes. Could you set the stage for me?"

"Of course, master Percy," she said, beaming. "I am always at your service."

"Thank you so much, Laritzia. I look forward to seeing you again."

"And I you, young master."

Despite the code of the house prohibiting her from running down the hall, she couldn't help herself as she crossed the east wing of the mansion toward the main lobby, where the party was being held. Her heart thumped in her chest with anticipation. Deep down, she knew well the reason the young master had refused to come back home all this time, but as someone who'd taken care of him since he was a baby, it made her heart bloom to hear of his imminent return.

Especially considering the circumstances of said return, and the stage she was supposed to set for him.

She parted the ivory doors, finding herself once more amidst an atmosphere of light jubilee. The guests of the party were distributed all over the lobby in small groups of their own, some enjoying the house's special cuisine near the tables, others standing near the grand marble staircase with drinks in hand, and a few of them enjoying the breeze of garden that served as the round centerpiece around which the square lobby was constructed. Quite an eccentric and bold design –who the hell built a garden with an open ceiling in the middle of their lobby, after all?– yet one she'd accustomed herself to over the years.

Master Arran has always enjoyed mid-party Pokemon battles, especially if he has an audience, she thought. Ah, I'm so happy he'll get the chance again tonight!

She would never speculate so out loud, but she figured part of the reason why Master Arran was so intent on throwing these monthly 'charity' parties was so he could stay relevant and informed in privileged trainer society, so to speak. It also gave him a chance to flex his family's muscles. Master Arran had always felt somewhat self-aware over not being able to become the Champion of Kalos like his father had, so it made sense he'd throw around Writs of Challenge left and right in order to climb up the ranks. Over the past five years, he'd managed to go from a simple Baron to an esteemed Marquis, and was only a few battles away from reaching the title of Duke. If things kept going his way…

"Ah, Master Arran, there you are."

Finding him was easy, as –intentionally or not– he always seemed to gravitate toward the very center of the garden during these parties. So that wasn't a surprise. What did shock her, however, was the tall, blond man standing next to him. He had eyes like a sea in storm, like those of a Milotic, and his posture was too elegant for it to have been rehearsed. He was, of course, a man Laritzia had heard of plenty. She just couldn't believe Master Arran had finally convinced him to attend one of these parties.

"O-oh. M-master Siebold, I hadn't seen you. My apologies." She gave him a respectful bow. "It is an honor to meet you, your grace."

The man gave her a quick, curt nod. A light gesture, but not a cold one. Somehow, it made her feel truly acknowledged, which rarely happened when greeting nobility like him. Most of the others looked at her as though she were barely there.

"The honor is mine. You must be the housekeeper, yes?" His voice was smooth and deep like flowing water. It sent a shiver down her spine. "You must be incredibly talented to take such good care of an estate as beautiful as this. So much so, in fact, that I can't help wondering what you're doing working for a family like this."

"A… ahahaha!" Master Arran let out a jagged, nervous laugh which shook his mustache. "I've heard you could be quite blunt, Duke Siebold, but I wasn't prepared for that! Take it easy on this old man, will you?"

Unfortunately, Master Arran wasn't the best at reading the mood, which is why he failed to notice that Siebold's comment hadn't been a joke.

Laritzia shone him a courteous smile. "I am indebted to the Morow family, in more ways that I could count. I would never dream of leaving their service."

"Hm. I see." Siebold didn't look at her as he absentmindedly rolled the clear liquid in his glass and took a small sip. He looked… slightly less bored than before. "I suppose there must be something of worth in this family after all, if you hold it in such regard."

Somehow, it didn't sound as though Siebold were giving her a compliment or trying to flirt with her. It just sounded… honest. Like he'd taken one glance at her and had seen past her housekeeper uniform and into the person she was underneath. It was a chilling glare, but a fascinating one. She appreciated being looked at in that way.

Master Arran, on the other hand, didn't seem very happy with attention being put on his servant instead of him, especially regarding someone as important as Duke Siebold. He smiled nervously again and tried to wave the matter away with a rough chuckle.

"Well, I'm very glad you could make it regardless. I know how busy you must b–"

"I came because of a hunch," Siebold cut him off. "My intuition told me that this would be different than your usual parties. That here I would find something… interesting. So here I am… waiting."

Master Arran blinked a few times, clearly confused. "A-ah, I see…"

However, Laritzia couldn't help but wonder. His intuition? Could he have known that tonight…?

"Speaking of, I apologize for interrupting you, but there was a matter I needed to make you aware of, Master Arran," she said. "It regards the call I took just now."

"Oh, yeah?" The man seemed happy for a chance to change the subject. "What was it?"

"I have been informed that we will have an extra guest tonight," she said. "And he should be arriving any moment now."

Master Arran's mouth opened in confusion, eyes blinking rapidly. "A-an extra guest? I don't remember hearing anything of the sort. Just who–?"

Then, from above, a powerful gust of cold wind fell upon the garden, startling most of the guests and forcing their attention upwards. Master Arran and Duke Siebold looked up at the sky, the former in shock, the latter with interest.

"Ah, here he is," beamed Laritzia. She cleared her throat before speaking louder. "Ladies, gentlemen and those who are neither here tonight! I am honored to introduce tonight's special guest for our dear charity party!"

To the wonder and shock of many, a massive Fearow fell down upon the garden in a burst of wind and dust, mere feet from them. A young, sharply-dressed young man stood atop his back, looking down at his father with narrowed eyes. Master Arran's mouth fell open. Had his grip on his glass been any looser, it would have fallen from his hand.

"Everyone, please greet Master Percy, heir to the Morow household."

There were a few polite claps, but only from the few that had already recovered from their surprise. However, as Master Percy jumped down from his flying companion and addressed the guests with a firm smile and a wave of the hand, his reception became warmer, more enthusiastic. Only two people had refrained from reacting in any obvious way. Duke Siebold stared at the young master with piqued interest, although his posture didn't change one bit. Master Arran, on the other hand, looked too dumbfounded to properly react.

"I would like to extend my greetings to all who've honored us with their presence tonight," said Percy, perfectly imitating the strong yet polite tone she'd always tried to instill in him for when dealing with other nobles. "I apologize for my sudden appearance, but if I know my father as well as I do, I'm sure 'sudden excitement' is a common feature of these parties of his."

Most of the guests smiled, and a few even let out polite chuckles at the young master's comment. More and more people started making their way from the outer layer of the lobby toward the garden, intrigued by the sudden commotion. This was perfect. Master Percy smiled, knowing he could use the big crowd to his advantage, and before his father could have time to react, he took a step forward and bowed respectfully toward him. The gesture was firm and perfect, yet only a trained eye like Laritzia's could have seen just how fake it was.

"It is an honor to be in your presence again, father," he spoke through half-grit teeth. "I apologize for the inconveniences I've caused you. I hope you may forgive me, considering the reason I'm back."

Master Arran's mustache twitched a few times before he was able to reply. "Sh… Son." He caught himself at the last moment, teeth clenching despite himself. He'd almost slipped into calling Master Percy by a name that was no longer his. Laritzia felt a pang of anger at the notion, but she followed the young master's example and controlled her expression. "I'm… glad you've made it back. But what reason are you… talking about?"

Master Percy glanced to the sides ever so slightly, subtly enough that only Laritzia could pick up on it. She gave him an imperceptible nod, telling him that yes, this was enough people as witnesses. He nodded to himself and took in a deep breath in preparation.

"I… have come for a joyous occasion, father. Not just for our family, but all of the nobility as well," he said. "For despite the dark clouds currently swallowing the land of Sinnoh, I've proved… mostly victorious in my endeavors."

"W-what are you…"

Not giving his father a word in edgewise, he searched the inside of his coat and pulled out a small, rectangular case, which he opened to reveal eight insignias carved of steel and precious stones. Master Arran's breath left him. A few gasps were heard around them as the young master raised the case high into the air, showing everyone in the vicinity the eight badges of Sinnoh currently in his possession.

"I have conquered all eight strongholds of our dear rival nation, as you asked of me," he said, beaming with pride. "And from what Laritzia has told me, you tend to sprinkle these parties of yours with the occasional high-stakes trainer battle. So what do you say we make this a night to remember, father? Just you and me."

Master Arran couldn't help but take a sudden step back at the sudden intensity in his son's eyes, but the redness that covered his face soon after made it clear he regretted doing so. Steeling himself, he swallowed hard and stared down Master Percy, mustache shaking.

"That is absurd. You… you can't mean–"

"Have you forgotten the trainer's creed of our family?" Percy raised an eyebrow as sharp as a knife. "The chosen heir is allowed to battle the head of the family for their title, assuming they've conquered eight gyms and beaten, or at the very least gotten the blessing from, one member of the Elite Four."

"But you haven't," Master Arran was quick to reply, failing to keep the heat in his voice at bay. "You've only got the eight badges."

Percy folded his arms and smiled. "Unfortunately so. The Sinnohan League has been cancelled for the time being, so there's no way I could challenge one of their Elite Four." His voice grew quieter for the next sentence, so that only they could hear him. "At first I was planning to use our bountiful audience to pressure you into accepting regardless." Then, his voice went back to normal, and his eyes darted from his father to the man beside him. "But it seems Lady Luck has smiled upon me today."

Master Arran's eyes shot wide open in fear, and Laritzia barely kept herself from giggling. Duke Siebold had no reservations however, as he raised a hand to his lips and let out a light chuckle, the boredom in his face vanishing for the first time that night.

"So has she smiled upon me, it seems," muttered the Elite Four member. "Finally, something worthy of my interest. Now, young Percy, would you do the honors?"

Nodding decisively, Master Percy raised a hand toward the sky then threw it down, pointing straight at his father's face with an Ultraball he'd produced from his belt.

"Marquis Arran, head of the Morow family. I, Viscount Percy Duve Morow-Chabashira, with the authority granted to me by these eight badges and the blessing of Duke Siebold, challenge you to a trainer battle for the title of Marquis, as well as that of the head of our house."

Duke Siebold raised a hand in front of his chest. "I vow for this challenge's veracity, as a member of Kalos' Elite Four. Marquis Arran, do you accept these terms?"

The look that crossed Master's Arran's face then was that of a man who'd been slapped across the face, and it was a wonderful sight. At this point, Laritzia truly could not help herself. A huge grin stretched her lips and the tips of her shoulders shivered in excitement.

Morow-Chabashira, eh? Then…

Not only would she witness Master Percy become head of the house tonight, but he'd apparently already found himself a fiancée. Alright, yes, this wasn't entirely for the Master's own benefit. He'd told her of his plan through the phone, of how he needed his father's influence for himself, more specifically his close relationship with the Interpol's Intelligence Division, in order to gather vital information for a mission of his back in Sinnoh. But regardless, to think the boy Laritzia had held in her arms as a baby had grown to become this caliber of man…

Oh, Master Percy, I am so happy, she thought, wiping a tear off her eye. And I cannot WAIT to tell the rest of the maids about this!

Newmoon Island looked exactly the same as Fullmoon island, with a single exception.

Candice stood amidst a field of flowers the color of charcoal, their petals short and numerous, coiling closely into a dome around the stigma while the thinner, longer filaments rose up in wider arcs all around. She only recognized their shape because they were Fantina's favorites; red spider lilies. Although due to their unusual color, a third of that name no longer applied.

Then again, the unexpected was expected when it came to the spots that legendary beings called their home. These flowers had been white in Cresselia's home. Here, where Darkrai rested, they were black. It was odd, yes, but it also made sense.

"Good to see you again," she spoke, her voice thin and raspy from exhaustion. "Hope you've recharged your batteries."

Darkrai lay suspended in the air mere feet from her, the black of the flowers around him paling in comparison with that of his wavy, nebulous body. Even the barely-moonlit night around him couldn't compare. The swirling darkness that gave him form was such that were it not for the white of his hair and the red of his collar, she would have mistaken him for a hole in reality itself.

He opened his eye at the sound of her voice, and a third color emerged from the darkness. A calm deep blue that sent shivers down her spine. She felt a tinge of fear and anxiety at the sight, though she couldn't quite make out why.

"It… has been centuries since I've rested for so long." One would have expected Darkrai's voice to be rough and grumbly, but in reality it was smooth like silk, moving through the air like smoke underwater. "You needn't worry about me, Guardian of Snowpoint."

Candice flinched at that moniker, but she was quick to hide it. Cresselia had called her that once, before she'd told her to cut it out, and she couldn't blame Darkrai for doing the same. These two had been alive for far longer than the title of Gym Leader had existed.

Luckily, she didn't need to try to hide the irritation in her voice, since the one that spoke out next was not her.

"Your darkness is as deep and rich as I've ever seen. Oh, Darkrai, I am so relieved…"

A puff of light rose like smoke behind Candice, materializing into the ethereal shape of Cresselia. Some of the flowers around them seemed to shrink into themselves at the sudden burst of light. Even Darkrai flinched for a moment. Regardless, he pushed through the discomfort and floated ever closer, ignoring as the wisps of darkness around his body were burnt off by his partner's light.

"All I have endured, Cresselia, I've done so knowing I would one day return to your side."

"I wouldn't expect any less. If you think I've had my fill of dancing dangerously with you through the night sky, then you've got another thing coming."

"Haha. I would never even consider it, my burning light."

"Nor would I, my gentle darkness."

Candice rolled her eyes. Not in a dismissive way but with a smile and a tug of laughter at her stomach. It was the exasperated yet amused gesture of a teacher with very little sleep who'd seen her students do something both dumb and adorable.

"Thousands of years of myths about you two being mortal enemies," she said, catching their attention. "And it turns out you're sappier than a couple of high-schoolers on their first date. I doubt my image of you two will ever recover."

Cresselia laughed in her mind, but Darkrai said nothing, seemingly confused by her comment. Maybe he wasn't very accustomed to teasing.

"But in a way, we are mortal enemies. And we most definitely are opposites," said Cresselia. "Should we get too close to one another, the energy brimming from our bodies will tear each other apart. The most prominently our side of the moon shines, the more dangerous our furtive dances become."

"And it is only for a brief moment, when both are in perfect balance, that we can be close to each other at all," said Darkrai.

Candice had heard some of this before, but still she couldn't help but make a sad face at the information. "It must be rough."

"Not nearly," said Cresselia. "Love is not about distance, or touch, or the pain we might feel in each other's presence."

"Does the dark half of the moon resent its light side for swallowing it whole?" asked Darkrai. "Of course not, for it knows it will soon emerge once more, and its roles will reverse. All its other half has done was give it a chance to rest."

Her lips drew into a line, splotches of paleness dotting her face. For a moment, her lack of sleep made her feel dizzy and unsteady on her feet, but… no, it wasn't just that.

Maylene. Maylene was still up there in Mt. Coronet. Following Team Galactic, skirting closer to danger and death than she ever thought she'd willingly allow. Just she and her Lucario against all their enemies, in a place where she couldn't run if she were to…

For a second, panic overtook her. She closed her eyes but all that did was bring horrific, twisted images into her mind. Maylene crumpled against the cavernous walls, eyes wide and unseeing, a ribbon of blood marking where she'd slid down the wall as she'd collapsed. Her breath hitched in her throat. She'd seen this image before. The one night Cresselia had retreated to her island to recover her strength. The first time Candice had gotten to sleep in years.

And the last. The very next morning, she'd asked Cresselia to bond with her again.

But if now she was seeing these images while wide awake, then…

She felt a warm pressure on her shoulder. Cresselia didn't have hands to give her a reassuring path, nor a body at the moment, but the gesture did feel similar. Candice opened her eyes and forced herself to breathe, looking over her shoulder at her bonded partner.

"Love is not about distance," the legend reminded her. "More than anything, it's about faith. And freedom."

Candice swallowed hard, her expression becoming hard.

"That's easy for you to say," she whispered. "You're ageless, and there's very few things that could kill you. You don't understand what I'm going through."

"Would she not believe in your strength, would your roles be reversed?" asked Cresselia. "Why do you doubt her so?"

"Because promises mean nothing," she hissed. "And because I can't afford to lose her. I don't care if that makes me a bad person, a bad girlfriend. I won't stand aside and worry while she's out there, risking her life. I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe."

A sigh was heard on her mind, one she'd heard from Maylene plenty of times before. It was a sigh that said 'Arguing with you would be pointless'.

"You intend to persevere with this proposal of yours, then?"

"Yes, I do."

"What…?" There was confusion in Darkrai's voice for a moment, but then realization hit him. "Ah… of course. Your visit was not entirely an altruistic one, I wager."

The slight irony and irritation in his voice was enough to soften Candice's expression into something akin to shame. She had to look away.

"I'm sorry," she was quick to say. "I know how this must seem, so soon after what happened. After you were used. But–"

"You needn't worry about me as though I were a fragile flower," said Darkrai. "I have already decided to help you."

Candice snapped back to look at him, eyes wide. "R-really?"

"Of course. You helped my partner in her moment of need, disregarding your own well-being. For that, I cannot ever repay you," he explained. "Besides, what happened was nothing new. Humanity has shunned my very existence since the moment of my creation. It would be foolishness not to return the kindness of the one exception so far."

Shame and pity welled up inside of Candice, though she determined not to show either on her face. She understood Darkrai's feelings. Showing pity would only offend him. Regardless…

Once all of this is over, I will do my part, she thought, determined. Next year, when the Festival of the Moon comes once more, we will celebrate both Cresselia and Darkrai.

She simply nodded to show appreciation, which seemed like enough. Darkrai mirrored the gesture.

"However, I'm not entirely sure how much help we'd be able to give," he said. "The closer we get to the moonless night–"

"The more your power will decrease," Candice nodded. "I've thought of that. But… what if it didn't have to? What if, when the moonless night came, that power was not inside your bodies, but somewhere else?"

Darkrai turned his head slightly, eye widening with confusion and curiosity. Inside of her, Cresselia's hesitation pulsed like a second heartbeat.

"What… do you suggest?"

Candice stood firm and extended a hand toward Darkrai, eyes brimming with a determination as firm as ice.

"Bond with me. Join Cresselia and take refuge within my Spirit," she said, her voice booming. "I'll keep your power safe, until it's the right time."

The look of a being as ancient as feared as Darkrai looking at her with eyes wide and shell-shocked like those of a Deerling in the headlights would have been a hilarious image, were it not for the circumstances. However, despite his clear befuddlement, he did not react as candidly as Cresselia had to the idea.

"That is… a very dangerous idea," he warned, his voice still calm despite it all. "I don't think you understand to what extent."

She chuckled. "Trust me, Cresselia made it plenty clear just how stupid an idea it is."

"And yet…" she whispered.

"She and I are like water and oil," said Darkrai. "Our Spirits cannot mix with one another."

"Then mine will be in the middle, keeping you both at bay," declared Candice. "I will be the line that divides you two."

"Even so… with two, there is a balance. An equilibrium of Spirit. But three…" Darkrai looked down. "You… we would overpower you. Our Spirits might completely overtake yours. You might die on the spot. Even if it works, you might be left broken and barely-functional. I'm certain that, even in the best-case scenario, you would be unable to sleep ever again, even after we're gone."

It was entirely possible that her chronic exhaustion and lack of sleep were partly responsible for the making of this decision, as well as just how done she was with everyone's concern for her, when they'd been completely fine with sending Maylene to her possible death. But right now, she didn't care. Not about herself.

"If that's the price to pay, I'm willing," she said, then smiled. "It's alright. You're not going to overtake me. I'm a teacher, remember? I've already got a Spirit wide enough to accommodate my love for all my students. A couple of legends should fit in just fine. Maybe have enough room to stretch your legs, even."

There was silence for a short moment. Darkrai looked up, from Candice to what she knew he must be seeing behind her, locking eyes with his partner. They seemed to have a wordless conversation before his gaze returned to Candice.

"If this is what you choose–"

"It is," she said fiercely.

"…Then there is something you need to know," he continued. "It may not be relevant, nor important. I hope it's not. But it is only fair."

Candice frowned. "What is it?"

"We… are not fragments of the Original One, like all others of our kind. We're not even the smallest crumbs of its once-whole power. We… are shadows," he explained. "In the most literal sense of the word. And shadows are not part of what they're attached to. They are formless, an absence."

Candice blinked a few times, confused.

"I'm telling you this because I will not allow you to make such a choice uninformed," said Darkrai. "All I ask is that you consider the breadth of these beings, considering what their shadows are."

Great, so more weird, occult bullcrap. Candice had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. She didn't care one bit about the shadows of once-great beings or however eloquently Darkrai wanted to put it. Her problems were a lot simpler and mundane that the existence of gods she might never meet.

"It's fine," she said. "I'm willing."

"…I see. In that case…"

Darkrai's gaze bore into her like a drill, the deep blue of his eyes shining with power. Candice pursed her lips and kept her fear down.

"Are you ready?"

"Whenever you are."

"Very well." There was a pause. "For what it's worth… I am sorry it had to come to this."

There was a void of light, followed by a blur of movement. Then Candice felt as though a hammer had hit her very soul, two powers like burning stars clashing against her at the same time, like pieces of broken glass digging into every inch of her being.

Newmoon Island exploded with light and shadows, rising toward the sky in a massive pillar as they intertwined with each other, the girl within it nothing but a blur, nothing but a scream of agony that shook the night with almost enough force to shatter it completely.