ALL NOVEL Chapter 17: Uncertainty
It took Aria a good while to speak up again after her unintentional faux pas.
Inviting wildlings to rest and maybe even stay in their safe haven was one thing, one that not a single sensible soul in the village would ever object to. Doing so with one of them hating and the other fearing humans, with Anne around, was another.
She didn’t want anything to happen to Anne, but the pair of ghosts clearly needed help, too. If she just kept the truth hidden and hoped things would work out, they’d probably freak out upon realizing that there was indeed a human around, and perilously close at that. Best case, they’d just leave there and then, and the worst case...
Despite Safeguard’s protection, a dreadful chill went through Aria’s horns at the thought. She supposed there really was no way out of this conundrum but forward. “^There is something I need to confess to, regarding the settlement we’re heading towards.^”
Aria kept staring straight on as the group made slow progress through the near-uniform snow-covered woods. Yaksha knew better than to pause just because of something being brought up and marched on. The same couldn’t be said for Sage; the girl left scrambling to catch up after her brief stop.
“And that would be?” the Banette asked.
Time for the big revelation, and hope that they wouldn’t take off into nothingness there and then. “^There is currently a human staying there. One.^”
Out of her view, the Banette’s gaze narrowed as the Phantump let out a small, terrified squeak, immediately leaning into her guardian. Aria might not have seen it, but she most definitely sensed it, a deep-seated part of her wanting to drop everything else and comfort the scared girl, just as it did with Anne. They felt so similar.
And yet, were so crucially different.
“That’s an important detail to hide from us.” Yaksha grumbled, his accusatory tone neither missed nor unearned.
The Gardevoir slowly nodded before continuing, “^I know. I was uncertain how to best bring her up.^” Aria felt Sage noticeably relax at that mention, but didn’t have the time to delve deeper into that observation. The hauntling’s guardian still expected answers, and yet again, the truth was the only answer the Gardevoir had. “^She’s a young girl, far from an adult. Ended up under our care after running away from an abusive home and getting grievously injured, and may stay there for good, should things work out.^”
Putting it in the most direct way thankfully worked to break through Yaksha’s immediate scepticism. Or, at least, some of it. Noticeably less suspicion in his mind, though still a fair amount of doubt and cold calculation. Unfortunately, even with that caveat, the Banette’s response was what Aria hoped to avoid, “You’re making a mistake. Sage, let’s head out of—”
“B-but Mr. Yaksha!” Sage cried.
“What?”
“Y-you’re still hurt!”
“Better me than you, kid.”
“I-I’ll be okay, I promise!” she pleaded, finally making a dent in her guardian.
Yaksha was of half a mind to keep up the argument, to try keeping Sage safe from her fear despite her best efforts. One human child without their wretched balls wouldn’t be a threat to even her, let alone them both; he knew that well. Even beyond that, though, he still wanted to keep going. He had already been slowly falling apart before this accident. His state was the very last thing either of them should care about.
She deserved better than humanity, and he was determined to deliver, even if it killed what remained of him.
But... it felt different this time. There was a steadfastness to her words, her posture. She kept affirming her decision with firm, full body nods even after he’d turned to look at her. Suppose he could stop by to get patched up, especially if he’d be there beside her to protect her should that human dare show up...
“You don’t have to do this, Sage,” he remided.
“But I’ll be okay! I-I’ll have you!”
The Banette chuckled, the sound mixing with metallic clings of unraveling zipper teeth. He found her conviction adorable in the most condescending way, going through all the ways that decision could go so very wrong in his mind. All the ways she could get overwhelmed and panic like she’d done so many times in the past.
All the ways in which she’d be left withdrawn in her stump, too afraid to move, reliving her death again.
Suppose there was only so much he could do to dissuade her in the end. He was her guardian, no matter what. With the expected safety of a place like the settlement in question, even if the worst came to pass and she got terrified and required help, he’d be there to help her once more. They’d be fine, and she’d know better going forward.
...
He hated thinking of it that way.
She’s been through arguably even more than him. She didn’t need to ‘know better’, she just needed to be safe. And if he couldn’t do that, then what good was he even for? Why else would he keep shambling on with little more than spite in his mind and a gaping hole in his memories—
“M-Mr. Yaksha?” the Phantump asked, worried.
Despite the Banette’s best efforts, the zipped grimace revealed more than he would’ve ever wanted to. “I’m fine. Alright. Let’s try a day or two. If anything happens, we leave there and then. How does that sound, Sage?”
The Phantump shook a bit at being asked a direct question like that, her own small mind no less certain than her guardian’s. In her case, though, her thoughts veered in the other direction, of not wanting her fear, however much or little of it there was in the moment, to keep them on the move. She wanted to speak up, to ask why only a day or two, to ask about as something as self-explanatory as staying there until the Banette was healthy again.
But she didn’t know what to say. And instead, just nodded and hovered over to him, stubby arms trying to pull his side into a hug.
Aria’s smile at the scene mirrored Yaksha’s, the latter strained by exhaustion, injury, and slight annoyance at the ghost once more keeping something from him. Either way, at least they’ve agreed on a plan they were both happy enough with. A rarer occasion than it should’ve been.
“I suppose that’s settled, then,” Yaksha sighed. “A couple of days, whichever rest we can get, then we head out. Won’t be staying any more than that.”
It wasn’t the Gardevoir’s place to argue, and she knew that well. Who knows, maybe they’d reconsider once they were there? Maybe they’d stay for longer, anyway? Maybe Pearl or Autumn or someone else could help Sage process some of her fear? It remained to be seen. For now, though, the resolution was as good as either side could’ve hoped for.
As they got moving again, Aria’s thoughts returned to the hauntling; the little Phantump was seemingly at more ease than before. To meet such a traumatic end at the hands of humanity, and so young at that. She’d glimpsed a few more of those little ghosts many years ago, always in the corner of her vision, always disappearing shortly after. Cypress’ words corroborated what the teachings she’d first heard growing up spoke of once she’d asked him about them.
Almost all the Phantump were deathborn, and all of them lost children who had died alone.
A hatchling Pidove who woke up to an empty nest and was eventually spotted by a predator. An overeager Rattata straying too far from their nest, dismembered at the hands of a human trap. A Venipede too malnourished to hibernate over the winter and evolve, left starving to death in their own burrow, so close to and yet so far from everyone they had ever known.
Her heart broke when first listening to the Mismagius’ recollection; she could hardly bear thinking of them even now. The pain, the loneliness, the fear; the all-encompassing fear they all must’ve felt. That Sage must’ve felt. Aria only barely held her tears in, but there was no way in hell she would hold herself back from giving the girl some well-deserved affection.
A gentle application of telekinesis forwarded the sensations of her slowly petting hand over to the hauntling’s wooden shell. The psychic touch gave Sage a pause as she stopped, wide-eyed. It didn’t take long for the Phantump to connect the dots, taking her aback. She looked up at the nearby Gardevoir with an unspoken question, only to have it be cut through with a single, wordless nod.
Sage responded in the most natural way in the world for her.
The entire group had to briefly pause as the tiny ghost hugged Aria’s leg. Their emotions were split between wanting to comfort, being comforted, and full-body confusion at what had just happened behind his back. The latter knew to stay quiet though, his grumpiness gradually fading as he watched the little one under his care visibly relax; her tiny body no longer shaking as much.
“Th-thank you, M-m-Mrs. Aria...” the Phantump smiled shyly at Aria’s beaming expression.
She didn’t waste an opportunity to give the haunting another hug once she’d crouched, either; the psychically transmitted sensations matched only by the real deal. “^You’re welcome sweetie. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay at our village.^”
Aria felt Sage’s thoughts bounce around several topics at her words. Excitement at visiting a town, uncertainty at it being full of stranger mons, tinge of muted fear at the stray human, worry about whether Yaksha would be alright in the end. Eventually, that very first emotion came out on top, especially when bolstered by some more of the Gardevoir’s affection.
“M-mhm!” Sage squeaked.
“You make it sound like you’re leaving us.”
With a couple last pats on Sage’s back, Aria stood up and nodded again; Yaksha’s pink eyes narrowing. “^I have my scouting duty, alas. If you maintain this direction, you will eventually reach our village, worry not.^”
The Gardevoir pointed to stress her words, leaving the Banette to focus on maintaining their heading.
“Fair enough,” he admitted.
“Th-thank you for letting us stay, Mrs. Aria!”
“Yes...”
“^You’re both very welcome. Once you get there, be on a lookout for a large tent with a red symbol above the red entrance. That’s our clinic.^”
“I see.”
“Mhm! W-we’ll ask someone for directions i-if we can’t find it, r-right Mr. Yaksha?” Sage asked.
“We’ll try, yes.”
The language barrier inherent to that approach didn’t cross either of the three’s minds as the pair of ghosts separated from the tall psychic. Aria paused and ensured the other two were heading in the right direction before turning around and mentally resetting herself.
A whole day of scouting ahead, and fingers crossed it won’t feature any more surprises.
Much to the relief of Aria’s increasingly fraying mental state, that hope indeed held true. The sky eventually shifted from its muted whites and blues into ever darkening oranges, making for an excellent sign to turn tail and sprint back home.
It was weird to acknowledge how freeing a good run like that could feel.
Aria didn’t consider herself physically strong. Barring any psychic assistance, subconscious or overt, she doubted she’d even be capable of lifting both of her children up into her arms—or even walking, for that matter. If nothing else, it didn’t feel like she had to help herself during the warmer months. When the winter came, though, levitation still reigned as her preferred mode of transportation. All the practice had brought it into not feeling much more draining than just walking would, so doing it all day wasn’t even that much of a hassle anymore.
Getting somewhere fast was a different matter entirely.
Jovan probably had a nice, smart word for this exact purpose, but teleportation grew immensely draining as its length increased. Zipping from one end of the room to the other took surprisingly little effort, but even just doubling that tiny distance suddenly made the task way more than twice as difficult, and that relation only continued. Teleporting across the village was possible and enough to leave her gasping for breath; double that and she’d be left borderline catatonic once she arrived.
It made for a terrible method of long-distance locomotion, unless done in short bursts. And at that point, considering the downtime between each blink, the end result wasn’t that much faster than just a brisk jog. And nowhere near as fast as Aria’s current Agility-enhanced sprint.
Using her legs this much felt weird, but... not at all bad.
She’d remembered Marco swearing by the virtues of purely physical exercise and exertion from time to time, and the more she used this way of getting back and forth to her scouting route, the more she agreed with him. Maybe she could show it off to Cadence sometime and have her give it a shot too? Wouldn’t hurt to try. Bell would probably run around the nearest person or building really fast and just give himself vertigo, teehee.
It was an amusing mental image, one Aria appreciated as she gradually slowed down. These sorts of idle thoughts were hardly the most productive, but they made for a pleasant and well-needed distraction, especially here. Especially now.
As her Agility gradually wore out and the number of familiar auras tingling her brain grew, Aria’s thoughts shifted back to the most important, and sadly most controversial, subject. She’d need to check up on Anne for sure, but hardly just her. There was Autumn, too. She’d need to see how her mother-in-law had progressed in winning the village’s opinion. She’d also need to catch up on the Cinder situation, whether anyone had seen her. And, if not, ask someone to watch over the girl for another night. Cypress had to have been to be exhausted by now, assuming he was even still awake.
The only other real option was Sprout, and there the same worries returned. Suppose if there was anyone who could figure out how to scan for threats while remaining undetected, it was the Decidueye, she’d figure it out somehow. Aria trusted her; she’d been working with her for dozens upon dozens of seasons by now. But there was still that possibility that something would go wrong. That Cinder would outsmart them all.
That she would hurt Anne even more than she’d hurt Ember and Marco.
Aria was no stranger to that kind of fear, for better or worse. Just like on all the past occasions, though, there was only one right answer to it. Keep going forward. Acknowledge it, measure it, do what you can to mitigate it. But when the time comes to it, keep moving forward, no matter what.
The moment of mental clarity caught Aria right as the very last of her earlier speed boost had worn off, leaving her walking into the quickly building glow of the village as the sun set around her. So many things to do, but there was one good jumping off point for tackling them one at a time, and getting a drink of something pleasant to go with it.
Vivian’s tea shop always got crammed around this time of day, right as everyone was finishing their duties. And much the same was true today, with virtually every seat and a decent bit of the standing space occupied by someone enjoying themselves. Be it tea, the results of the Goodra’s experiments with fermenting and distilling wine, or just socializing, the little space had something for everyone. In Aria’s case, it was several people she needed to chat with, and tea.
Let’s get the latter dealt with first.
“Evening, Aria.” the sweater-clad Goodra greeted.
She answered them with a firm nod; eyes focused on nothing as she approached the counter. “^Good evening, Vivian.^”
“A lot on your mind, isn’t there?”
Once more, she nodded absentmindedly, sighing before finally looking up at the dragon. “^More than I’d like, but nothing I can’t handle.^”
“I didn’t doubt that for a moment~. Now, just tea or something stronger?”
“^Just tea, I’ll need all the clarity I can get my hands on.^”
“Anytime.”
As the dragon glanced around their shoulder to double check whether the next kettleful of the sweet drink was brewing, Aria used the downtime to bring up some things right away. Plenty of people passed through their little shop, almost as many as Holly’s—they knew a thing or two. “^Have you heard anything about Cinder today?^”
The direct question drew the dragon’s focus directly to her, mind changing gears from just nicety to something more... gossipy. “Plenty, but I imagine you’d be most interested in her location?”
In any other circumstances, Aria would’ve followed that plainly presented bait, asked how come they knew about that. Not today, though. “^Yes, yes exactly.^”
“Alas, nothing about that specific topic, I have to say. All I’ve heard is about what she’d done to Marco yesterday. Seems she’s still missing.”
The worst possible response short of her having stormed in earlier and burned the entire village to the ground. Not like Aria could argue with it either; eyes focusing on nothing as she accepted a cup of tea and started absentmindedly blowing on the freshly boiled drink. It was hardly inconspicuous, but that wasn’t a problem by itself, as long as nobody had spilled any more beans.
“She’ll be brought to justice for her assault as soon as she shows up here, no? I can’t imagine her being willing to leave Ember alone instead of going through whatever punishment the Elders devise for her.”
If only it was just that.
“^No, that’s not all of it, it’s... so much worse,^” Aria muttered.
“That bad?”
“^I’d rather not elaborate any more.^”
Finally, Aria got to slowly sipping on her cup. She continued to use her breath and the few applicable psychic tricks to cool the tea down. Her mind refocused on everything that could’ve happened to, or including Cinder in the meantime—
“I assume it’s about what she’d done to Ember, no?”
In a split second, Gardevoir was focused entirely on the Goodra; the sudden motion combined with her eyes narrowing took the barkeeper aback. “^Who told you that!?^”
Her voice was somehow simultaneously weaker on account of the communication now being truly private and much harsher because of the gravity of that fact getting leaked to everyone. Once they’d finished feeling back from Aria’s sudden shift, Vivian continued with a soft chuckle, “Nobody, but I appreciate the confirmation~.”
Their clear amusement, combined with their words, had Aria’s mind threatening to freeze. What the hell did they mean? How did they figure it out? “^How did you—^”
“Cinder mysteriously left yesterday after assaulting Marco. There were all the whispers about Marco collapsing in the human’s room at the clinic next to Ember. Then, today I heard all about how Ember and the human used to be old friends but Ember just somehow forgot about all that until now... the pieces aren’t exactly difficult to put together, if you get what I mean.”
That much Aria could agree with.
Simultaneously, she realized that the final contributing piece of information must’ve been leaked by someone, anxiety only growing inside her at the possibility of everyone putting it all together on their own. ‘Ember and Anne used to be friends but Ember forgot’ sounded like a piece of fake rumors; nobody would’ve believed it unless the Braixen herself had confirmed it in person. And if there’s someone Aria wasn’t expecting to go out to the entire village and admit to something this unexpected, it was definitely Ember.
“^I... alright. Who told you about Ember, then?^”
“I heard it from Sol,” Vivian admitted.
“^Sol... alright. Need to get over there and track down who told him that—^”
“^That would be me~.^” a well familiar mental voice giggled.
Aria’s nervous expression jumped over, meeting Autumn’s relaxed, slightly inebriated one, right as the Indeedee had put away her mug on the counter to be refilled. The Gardevoir briefly froze at that realization, the accumulated stresses of the day leaving her dumbfounded before she caught her breath and tried to tackle it again. One step at a time, as with everything. “^Mom? But—why?^”
“^Well, you had asked me to help make the place more amenable, and *hiccup* I figured that wouldn’t be a bad way to do it,^” Autumn explained
“^But it sounds unbelievable!^”
“^But it’s true, isn’t it?^”
“^Yes, it is, but... nobody’s gonna believe it!^” Aria pleaded.
“I sure believe it after seeing your reaction to me bringing it up~.” Vivian interjected, making Autumn chuckle under her breath as Aria churned through their words.
Eventually, she felt forced to admit the defeat. She supposed this approach would work, even if she wasn’t sold on it one bit, and even if it could cause problems later.
“Really, if Ember goes out to confirm the rumors herself, then I don’t see why anyone would remain doubtful about it,” the dragon continued.
“^They’d probably just think either me or Autumn had hypnotized the poor girl into saying it,^” Aria muttered.
“I imagine there are quite a few ways to dispel that kind of Hypnosis and really make sure then?”
“^Plenty.^”
“What’s the issue, then?”
“^It still sounds unbelievable. I doubt some will buy into that even with supposed evidence.^”
“Would they ever?” Vivian asked, raising their eyebrow.
Aria looked up from her cup at the dragon, sighing as her exhausted eyes narrowed. “^I’m too tired to probe what you’re implying here.^”
“Ha! All I meant is the fundamental fact that you won’t sway everyone, even if the truth is entirely on your side. Even with all the proof, even with the most basic of claims, someone won’t believe them. Spite, prejudice, confirmation bias, name your poison and there will be someone afflicted by it. Can’t convince everyone.”
The Goodra leaned towards the fairy, their mellow expression brightening into a modest, but confident smile. “But you can convince most, and I’d say you two are doing a decent job at that.”
“^That’s reassuring to hear,^” Autumn smiled. Her older, croakier voice contrasted Aria’s silence as the Gardevoir slowly chewed through Vivian’s words.
A decent job was indeed good to hear, but would it be enough? Would anything they did be enough? What if those to whom the decision would ultimately fall were a part of that incorrigible minority? The fear was strong, the possibility gripping her lithe body with a frigid grasp. At the same time... it wasn’t all that likely either. She wasn’t good with numbers, she’d have to ask Jovan sometime, but the odds that everyone undecided in the upcoming vote would think the rumor to be fake couldn’t have been too big.
And in either case, they were already doing everything in their power to convince as many heads as they could. Would need to ask Ember to confirm it personally, be it today or tomorrow morning. Early enough so that everyone could hear it in time. That’d help even more, and tremendously so.
Acknowledge it, measure it, mitigate it.
Keep moving forward.
“^Thanks, Vivian,^” Aria sighed.
“Anytime.”
The dragon nodded at her words before getting pulled to the side by someone else, eager to get their evening brew. A glance to the side revealed Autumn to be gone, too. Thankfully, Aria only needed a quick glance around to find her; the Indeedee’s company was as unusual as it was welcome. She sure didn’t expect to go from getting taught by the Electivire to having him woo her mom, but if they were both making it work, then why not?
The Magnemite affixed to Geiger’s arm was another matter entirely, the sight familiar in the most unnerving way. She’d have to ask about it sometime. In the present, though, her attention shifted over to someone else in the room, and someone she was much more eager to chat with. “^Sprout!^”
Aria’s mental shout caught the Decidueye right as she was about to leave the building with a steaming cup in her feathered hand, prompting her to twist her neck to look directly behind herself before the rest of the body joined in. Aria had seen Blossom do that a couple times when playing with Cadence, and probably shouldn’t have been as surprised at the sight as she ended up being.
“Good evening Aria! *yawn* How was your shift?” Sprout asked. Her voice clearly hadn’t finished waking up quite yet; the obvious realization further underlined by the owl stretching her elongated body and wings shortly after.
“^Fine enough, had an odd encounter, but that’s not the time for it either way.^”
The phrasing caught the Decidueye’s attention, head immediately thinking through its implications as she took a large sip of the hot drink. Sugary or not, a couple drops of Salac juice did wonders at waking her up, a fact that Sprout was eager to rediscover every single day. “Are you in a rush, Aria?”
“^Not quite. I meant to ask you for something.^”
“Always interested in helping. Do tell, dear.”
“^Well... Cypress watched over Anne last night and possibly over the day too. I imagine he’s exhausted. Would it be alright for you to keep watch for Cinder tonight?^”
“Would it be alright? Ha, Aria dear, I’d love to! Any way I can help the girl and get an excuse to sink a quill or three into Cinder’s back is appreciated!” Sprout beamed.
Aria was torn between approving of her enthusiasm and being opposed to the jokes of that caliber on behalf of Ember. Ultimately, she kept herself to a small eye roll, ignoring the comment either way. “^Thank you, Sprout. I hope the security concerns won’t be too bad overnight...^”
“Oh, I highly doubt. Been weeks since I had to do more than sit, fly and stare. Frankly, by looking over Anne, I’ll already be focusing on possibly preventing the most likely threat out there!”
Ignoring might’ve been what Aria settled on the first time, but this time she decided to intervene, hoping to establish a soft limit, “^Sprout, please. I know you’re mad at her, so am I. Regardless of what she’d done, she’s still a part of our village—^”
“Frankly, I hope that won’t remain the case for long.”
“^Please let me finish. She’s a part of our village, and more importantly, she’s Ember’s mother. The poor girl had been through plenty as is. She doesn’t need to go through the heartbreak at realizing that someone she loved is gone again.^”
The follow-up was enough to shut Sprout up, at least for a moment. She took her time gathering her words afterwards; downing a large gulp of the sweet drink as her mind churned through a mental equivalent of grumbling under one’s breath. “That almost sounds like you want to hide what Cinder had done to her from her, Aria.”
“^I—I absolutely don’t. She deserves to know. It’s...^” Aria paused, needing a moment and a half to compose herself as she refined some all too familiar emotions into something more measured. “^Ember deserves to know, and she will be heartbroken. I’m aware of that. But that won’t erase everything else she feels about Cinder. She considers her a mother; she loves her. These emotions don’t just go away when she learns of her having done something terrible. Love and hate can coexist and it takes a while for one’s mind to resolve them. It’s...^” the Gardevoir blinked a few times to banish the moisture in her eyes, to no avail. “^Sometimes it takes years. Sometimes it never quite ends. No matter what, though, Ember deserves to be allowed to process it all on her own, in her own time, with someone she loves, or used to love around.^”
Aria’s personal experience wasn’t overlooked; the psychic blinking at suddenly feeling herself pulled into a tight, feathery hug. She didn’t fight it, body steadily relaxing into Sprout’s warmth. “You okay there, dear?”
“^I’m—I’m fine, don’t worry.^”
“Oh, I will worry about any friend of mine; don’t you ever doubt that,” the Decidueye insisted.
Aria failed to hold a tired, guttural chuckle at that, only leaning further on the owl. “^Thanks, Sprout.^”
“You’re welcome~. And... yeah, I s’pose I see your point. Still won’t make the quills itch any less when she shows up, that’s for sure.”
“^Can’t ask them not to, either. Just... keep Ember in mind, alright?^”
“I will. When do you want me to start my lookout?”
The change of subject plucked Aria out of a more pensive mood and towards a more analytical, planning one. Suppose she’d be heading out soon, then get into the clinic, spend a while or two checking up on everyone, making sure Anne has her needs met, then they’d head out... “^In an hour, hour and a half? I’ll wait at the clinic for you to show up either way.^”
“Fine by me! That everything you wanted to go over, Aria dear?”
That was everything Aria had initially meant to bring up, but... the more she thought, the more one particular subject begged for more attention. “^Do you... have much experience with Phantump, by any chance?^”
“Wood orphans, huh? Heartbreaking each time... I assume you’ve run into one, Aria?”
“^With a Banette looking after her, yes,^” the Gardevoir clarified.
“Huh,” Sprout muttered, clearly taken aback. She dwelt on it for a moment or two, before shaking it aside.
“^Something wrong with that?^”
“No, hardly, just... curious.”
Aria almost pushed through to ask why there and then, before discarding that tangent. She didn’t really care deep down about how Sage and Yaksha ran into each other, only about how she could help them, the former especially. “^Anyway. They headed over here earlier today. The Banette, Yaksha, had a bad run in with a human’s Murkrow and needed help. I suggested they stay for good, but... it seems the Phantump, Sage, had her life taken away by humans.^”
The dots weren’t hard to connect for Sprout either; a very familiar maternal pulse going through her mind at the elaboration. It was accompanied by the closest thing her beak could do to cringing, the messiness of the situation not missed on her. “That’s... awful. Does Sage know what she used to be?”
The Gardevoir shook her head, sighing at the deeply unpleasant subject. “^I was thinking some of our caretakers could help her with figuring it out and processing her fear of humans. But... no, she doesn’t know. She could’ve been anything.^”
“Even a human herself, ha.”
Aria found the idea rather distasteful considering the girl’s fate. “^I doubt it, not with her being so scared of them. And humans murdered her, too, and I haven’t heard of them ever doing something this heinous to a child.^”
“That’s... yeah, fair. My bad.”
“^It’s alright, just... it’s been a long day,^” Aria sighed.
“You’ve earned yourself an entire month of rest once all this is over, Aria dear. You’ve been stretching yourself way too thin over the past couple of days.”
“^And it’s nowhere near over yet. Even beside the actual vote, something tells me the worst is yet to come and... I’m scared for her, Sprout.^”
“Anyone in your position would be too, Aria. I know you’re doing your best to help her out. Give yourself grace from time to time.”
“^I am. It’s a recurring fear. I’ve been acknowledging it, measuring it, mitigating it, everything Geiger taught us all those years back. And... sometimes it just doesn’t feel enough. There’s never that certainty, and I know that especially in this case there won’t be that kind of certainty, but it’s just...^” Aria’s train of thought stalled out, the words she was looking for stubbornly refusing to manifest. All the tangled stresses and anxieties, and no obvious way forward out of them.
Sprout didn’t have that kind of answer, either—but what she did have was reassurance and affection. And that by itself helped more than either scout could’ve hoped for. “I believe in ya, and so does Anne. You got this.”
“^I hope I do.^”
“I don’t have to hope, I know it~.”
Aria rolled her eyes before letting go of Sprout, the Decidueye using the opportunity to empty her cup and leave it beside Vivian. The Gardevoir continued, “^Alright, don’t let me hold you back any longer. Take care out there, and I hope nothing happens overnight.^”
“Thanks, Aria. You take care of yourself too, alright? There’s only one of you, you gotta take care of that one~.”
With one last nod and one last pat on the shoulder in response, the owl finally headed out. Aria was left churning through it all for a while, gradual exhaustion not helping any. Suppose she could grab a treat for herself when heading back home. Just something small to help her through the mess of the past couple days, and the mess that awaited tomorrow—
*creak, creak*
The quiet, squeaky noise was far from unfamiliar, and it was that familiarity that sent an icy chill through Aria’s horns. She turned around to see Elder Celia slowly departing the scene; the squeaking of wheels of the makeshift cart that carried the aquatic part of her body was a sound that she could recognize anywhere.
And she most definitely didn’t want to recognize it here and now, of all places.
She’d clearly been eavesdropping on them, without Aria even noticing. An embarrassment in its own right, but the Gardevoir was much more concerned about what the Primarina was going to do with that information. She’d already asked for Anne to be present at the vote that would spell her doom, an act so overtly cruel it contrasted incredibly heavily with everything else she knew of the marine Elder.
This entire situation was bringing the worst out of everyone.
Depressing as that realization might’ve been, Aria didn’t stop there; the earlier thought creeping back. Was Celia going to argue that Anne was a threat to their security, and that’s why they couldn’t let her stay? That in asking multiple scouts to look after the girl specifically, Aria was overstepping her bounds and should be demoted?
None of those matched what the Gardevoir knew of the Primarina. It was all second-hand, but she’d only heard her be described as compassionate, if very withdrawn. Her accusations didn’t match that description, but neither did the Elder’s actions. And it’s not like she could ask either, not if she really wanted to get anything more than an evasive non-answer.
Aria was ready to protect Anne from the rest of the village all at once in case of any overt hostility, but it was this unknown, this uncertainty that ground at her so much more than any act of outright aggression. Mentally probing was an option, but one that, with an Elder, was itself punishment-worthy should she ever get caught. She couldn’t risk that.
The Gardevoir tried playing back all the reassurances she’d heard so far. From Autumn, from Sprout, from Marco, from Garret, hell even from Anne, even if the latter were mostly unspoken. They believed in her, she couldn’t fail them. She wouldn’t fail them, no matter what it took—
“Ariaaaaa!”
This was the one time that a distraction was most definitely appreciated, even if it carried a risk of something exploding nearby at any point.
“^Yes, Mikiri?^”
Mawile’s gaze back at her was rather unfocused; her red eyes shaking as she chugged her second cup of Vivian’s cobbled-together brandy. Despite her being Steel-type, the Fairy deep in there was still vulnerable to booze, even if it took more than usual to really poison her. Much, much more, to Vivian’s occasional despair.
“Got a question!”
The ice bag affixed to Mikiri’s front head might’ve been gone, but that didn’t extend to the bandage that held it there, the stained fabric hanging loosely across her forehead.
“^What is it? Are you feeling better?^”
“Ya ya ya I’m fine, concussion got NOTHING on me. Anyhooooow. Heard you wanna house the human, keep her safe and content and keep her from escaping and fend off all the humans and all that other shit you taunted me with a couple of days ago,” Mikiri mumbled.
“^It’s not—^”
“Not done yet! Anyhow if you’re stashing her here, mind asking her to explain some human junk to me? Can’t crack the function of some parts of that bloody two-wheel and it’s driving me mad.”
Aria’s expression went from unnerved to the absolute flattest it was possible for it to get in record time. “^No, not now. We’re still not sure if she’ll be staying for good. Even if she will, she’ll need time to acclimatize to the village and the other way around. I’d rather not instantly overwhelm her by putting her beside you.^”
The small, jumpy, presently drunk, and occasionally very hyperactive creature with a massive and very mobile jaw full of razor-sharp metal teeth attached to the back of her head rolled her eyes at being described as overwhelming. “Fine, whatever, uuuugh.”
The Gardevoir had no idea whether that final sound was a groan or a sign of nausea. In all honesty, she’d rather not find that one out, ever.
“Almost cracked everything about it anyway, fixed up a replacement, testing it tomorroooooooow,” Mikiri droned, trying her hardest to maintain her balance. “Got it working this time, I’m bloody sure, jus wanted the last few kinks ironed out but can’t cuz can’t get the hands on the human and just have to test it out tomorrow and grumble grumble grumble.”
Mikiri’s gradual descent from a coherent sentence to a string of guttural noises was impressively smooth and somewhat worrying simultaneously. “^Mikiri?^” Aria asked, concerned.
“Grumble grumble?”
“^Are you okay?^”
“Grumble, grumble grumble.”
“^Sounds like you should call it a night here.^”
“Grumble grumble...”
This time, all Aria needed was a knowing, smug look to make the smaller fairy cave in. Mikiri rolled her eyes so hard she almost lost her balance completely, “Fine fine whatever grumble grumble.”
“^See you tomorrow~.^”
Thankfully, the Mawile took the clue. She shambled over to the countertop’s lowest level and just barely reached on top of it with the half-emptied cup, almost falling over there and then. Without any further ado, she burped and shakily made her way out the nearest exit while occasionally having to consciously lift her maw off the snowy ground.
Her cup had somehow been emptied in the half-minute or so between her leaving her there and Vivian giving it a wash to reuse it, and there just so happened to be a suitable suspect floating right beside where the Mawile had left it. One that, considering the recent circumstances, Aria figured she could at least keep in the loop about any further newcomers showing up.
“^Good evening, Liz.^”
The hovering Vespiquen looked to her side at the Gardevoir; the white pinpricks of her eyes narrowing briefly before relaxing again as she downed another swig of her extra-punch tea.
“Evening,” the Vespiquen buzzed, her clicky voice even more grumbly than usual. Aria didn’t want to presume the reason—but then again, she was about to add to her annoyance, so she’d find out about the original issue sooner or later.
“^We have a couple temporary newcomers who are gonna be staying at the clinic for the next few days or so,^” Aria explained.
Aria watched Liz‘s expression, the little of it she had, shift in real time as she spoke. She sensed her almost palpable note taking and calculating at the mention of newcomers, a drawn out grunt at hearing the mention of the clinic, and finally, a modest sigh of relief at their stay being temporary. “How hurt are they?”
“^There’s a Banette with modest injuries and a few larger tears, and an unharmed Phantump.^”
Liz sighed, relieved about them being ghosts. If nothing else, it removed food and freshwater consumption from the list of resources they’d need, making at least that part easier to handle. She continued to hold her cup with one hand as the other dragged its sharp fingers along the front of her horns, using the thin lines carved into her own chitin for counting. “Good. Running low on dressings.”
“^Suppose Anne took up a decent bit?^”
The unfamiliar name had the insect quartermaster’s eyes go wide, fully expecting to hear about yet another recent addition to the village she hadn’t been made aware of and which she’d also need to manage their supplies for. “An-akh-agn—”
“^Anne, the human at the clinic.^”
Crisis averted, Liz‘s sigh of relief sounding like a drawn out, droning buzz. “Yes. Human, Marco, Mikiri, other accidents. Running low. Need to ask Lavender and Sol for more tomorrow.”
Another deep swig of the spiked tea, another light shudder going through her weathered yellow and black body.
“^That’s a good idea,^” Aria admitted.
The Vespiquen grumbled and chugged again; one hand continuing to count as she responded, downbeat. “Not enough. Need more backlog, but also more. Can’t have them be the only sources. Need to ask others for help. Look out for local plants we can spin thread out of. Something will happen to Sol, eventually. We need to be ready.”
The ominous nature of Liz‘s comment about the Whimsicott was softened by Aria picking up that she was referring to it in a very long-term way. Something will happen to him one day, even if it’s death of old age in several decades. Gotta be ready by then, and preferably by yesterday.
The chaos following the Orion‘s premature death firmly settled that need for backup plans in everyone’s heads.
“^I hope you and the Elders will figure something out then.^”
“Same. All that while keeping track. Nothing I can’t do,” Liz said, not hoping as much as she was just admitting.
“^I imagine it’d be easier if you could write those problems down somewhere, wouldn’t it?^” Aria teased.
The Vespiquen gave her another side look, one unusually uncertain for her. “Already keep tallies in clay at my nest.”
“^I mean more than that. I’ve heard that humans can write down much more abstract things than just counts, and read them back later from their symbols.^”
Liz’s gaze remained fixed on the psychic as the quartermaster went through a swig of tea. And then another, and a third; both halves of her mind left busy imagining the uses for such a tool. “Would help greatly.”
It might’ve still only been a low, buzzing grumble, but Aria could tell there was an unspoken question for follow-up in there. One she would not mind providing in the slightest. “^If Anne ends up staying, I don’t see why she couldn’t teach their writing to you.^”
The clarification that the human staying would indeed include them passing on their knowledge took the Vespiquen aback a bit. She considered herself too calculated to be swayed by something as basic as someone’s kin, especially if they were useful, but... as she also was acutely aware of, reality loved to disagree with her tallies and calculations, always to her utmost annoyance. “Count me interested.”
And rather nervous, but Aria wasn’t surprised by the latter one bit. “^Sure thing, Liz. We—we should know for sure in two days.^”
“Good.”
A cold shock went down Aria’s body at the thought of the approaching decision. She might’ve said two days, but it was closer to one full night and day cycle. A single full day separating the innocent child at the clinic from either salvation or damnation. Time never stops, and neither could she.
“^I’ll let you know as soon as it’s settled.^”
The Vespiquen acknowledged the words while staring into the wall right ahead. With a large swig, she finished her cup and put it down, the second hand reaching up to do some head-carved arithmetic; any remaining attention placed on the Gardevoir evaporated within moments.
High time for her to head out.
By the time Aria left Vivian’s tea place, the sky had long since turned inky black. A handful of stars winked down at their little outpost in the woods from on high; their dim light largely occluded by the handful of Will-o’-Wisps strewn around the place to provide a dim night-time lighting. She remembered being so mesmerized by them when she first showed up here all those years ago.
There was something to be pondered on and said about experience dulling wonder, but Aria’s mind had little spare room in it to focus on either concept. To little surprise, the inside of the clinic was almost completely dark, most of its temporary occupants either asleep or in the process of dozing off. Far from all, though, especially if the wisps of reddish light and muffled laughter peeking from underneath the door to what had become Anne’s room were any sign, but most for sure.
That group included only the older half of the ghostly newcomer duo.
Yaksha was huddled up on a small bed in the main chamber’s corner. A couple of bandages peeked from underneath the raggedy blanket he’d covered himself with. Much the same was true for the uncertain expression on his face, one that constantly looked up at the Phantump beside him. Sage wasn’t even trying to fall asleep, her focus affixed to the nearby canvas wall. The piece of fabric was all that separated her from the gruesome and terrible human, and yet... she wasn’t anywhere near as scared as earlier.
The implicit safety of such a place no doubt helped, as did Yaksha’s presence beside her.
“C’mere Sage,” the Banette asked, “I’m sorry you have to deal with that, but we’re not gonna be staying here long. Hop under the blanket, it’ll muffle some of the sound.”
Sage was about to speak up in response before catching a motion in the corner of her vision. Her red eyes turned to pinpricks as she focused on the figure in the dark, then went wide as she realized just who it was. A small, shaky smile crept onto her wooden face as she waved at the Gardevoir, “G-good evening, M-Mrs. Aria!”
“Shhhhhhhh!” the Blissey hushed from the back of the chamber.
“...sorry,” Sage squeaked out.
Aria chuckled at the exchange before her—the hush was all Esther, even if it took the Gardevoir a while to make her out in the dark. She spotted her just in time to catch her nodding in response to Sage’s apology. At least Yaksha was more mindful of the attempt at silence. With the annoyance in his mind and his pink eyes narrowing at making Aria out in the dark, though, that wasn’t much of a relief.
“Did you intentionally forget to tell us we’d be sharing a wall with that damned human?” Yaksha asked, leering at her.
The Gardevoir felt a pang of anger at having someone refer to Anne this way, but she reined it in shortly after. “^No, it slipped my mind. She’s out of sight and will not be interacting with either of you. I don’t see what the issue is.^”
“The issue is we can hear it, that’s what. Sage, c’mere.”
Despite what the Phantump herself might or might not have been feeling, she followed the Banette’s request, huddling up to him and trying to fall asleep.
“Sorry for all this, kid. If I knew how close we’d be to that human, I would’ve reconsidered.”
Sage shook under the covers, clinging closer to her guardian while Aria rolled her eyes.
“Can’t even understand anyone here either, ugh,” the Banette complained.
“^That’s just expected. We have our own language, and any newcomers have to learn it if they plan to stay.^”
“Fortunately, we won’t.”
“^You still ended up receiving healing and a bed, didn’t you?^” she quipped at him. Her comment hit true; Yaksha’s eyes narrowing at her as she continued, “^I hope you’ll sleep well, both of you.^”
“Won’t be easy.”
“G-goodnight, Mrs. Aria...” Sage whispered, defusing some of Aria’s tension as she turned around, heading for Anne’s room. The few seconds offered little time to reset mentally, but Aria tried her hardest all the same, not wanting to bring the mood down. With how sky high it was, though, she doubted that even her coming in tearful would’ve accomplished it.
The room was being lit by a pair of small Will-o’-Wisps hovering safely away from either walls or any of the room’s occupants; their red and purple coloration combining into an unreal, magical atmosphere. Magical, and happy all around.
The kids, including the now awake Ember, were huddled on the bed around something Aria had to focus to even make out. A checkered pattern of empty and filled in squares drawn on a large piece of paper, on top of which many tiny paper scraps were being moved around. Some of them were again empty, some of them were colored, and they always only moved diagonally, occasionally taking another piece with themselves. The game’s rules might’ve been beyond Aria’s comprehension, but the giddiness that accompanied them wasn’t.
Especially once Cadence had noticed her. “^Hi mom!^”
The entire bedful of kids turned to excitedly wave and squee at her; the Gardevoir left thankful for the Safeguard muffling the little gathering. Bell, in particular, was incorrigible, scrambling over towards her for an eagerly granted hug. “Mooooom!”
“^Yes, Bell?^”
The lil’ Ralts undertook a few seconds of the most intense thought in his entire brief life yet. His white hand tapped against his chin for a couple of moments before he finally settled on the right course of action—and hugged his mom. “I love you, mom!”
Giggles, laughter, or soft awwws from all around the room.
“^Love you too, sweetie. How have you all been doing?^”
“I’m happy!” Bell squeaked.
“It’s been a lotta fun!” Elric cheered.
“^Eeeee, Anne drew me and Bell, then she showed us some of the human games and taught us how to draw a bit and Ember woke up!^” Cadence squeed.
The last fact was the most noticeable change in the room, especially in how it’d affected Anne. The shift from her nervous self earlier to her current tranquility was one Aria wasn’t expecting to see for... ever. It made her smile even wider as the two exhausted girls held each other tight, Ember in particular only barely staying awake as she huddled up on her human friend’s lap.
Aria acknowledged the younger trio’s responses with a smile before sitting down at the edge of the bed and giving Anne and Ember each a gentle pet. The human responded with a tired, quiet giggle that then broke into a yawn, and the Braixen by snuggling in further into said human’s one-armed embrace.
“^How was your day?^” Aria asked, keeping her voice down.
“~I-it was fun. I-I was a bit nervous earlier, but w-we figured it out with Cadence’s help,~” Anne answered, trying her hardest not to yawn.
The glowing recommendation made the Gardevoir look at her daughter with a prideful smile, the lil’ Kirlia blushing brightly in response. “^I-it’s no big deal—^”
“^Sure feels like it is, to both you and Anne~,^” her mom teased.
The rest of the room giggled at Cadence’s expense. The psychic tween responded to her mom in the only way someone her age could—namely, by scrambling over to her mom for a big hug, with her younger brother joining her soon after.
“^How are you feeling, Ember?^”
“I-I’m tired, but... happy,” the vixen woofed.
No more needed to be said for those in the know. The vixen’s ears twitched and laid to her sides as first her human, and then the Gardevoir administered more pets. Everyone was full, enjoying themselves, and tired to a lesser or greater extent. They also knew what Aria finally showing up meant, Elric intervening first, “Mrs. Ariaaaaa, can we stay for a while longer?”
“^Yes mom, please!^” Cadence pleaded.
The Gardevoir’s laughter wasn’t any less tired than everyone else’s in the room.
Her affirmation immediately rekindled the kids’ energy, even if some were much more quiet about it than others. Silent or not, they all got a pet before Aria let them be and enjoy the rest of what their bodies could dish out before they finally collapsed for the day.
And in the meantime, she checked in with the adults. “^How are you holding up, Cypress?^”
“Barely...” the Mismagius croaked.
Yep, that was not an aura of a ghost who was eager to stay awake for even a second longer. “^I’ve arranged for Sprout to look out for Cinder tonight and will wait here until she shows up. Rest easy, Cypress.^”
“Thank the gods...”
“^Apologies for not handling this sooner—^”
“It is all alright, dear Aria. I greatly enjoyed my stay in either case...”
“^I’m glad to hear. And again, thank you so much for all this, and especially on such a short notice.^”
“Anytime. Rest yourself as well, dear Aria. Pass my wishes of fruitful rest to your children, Elric, and Ember too...”
The Mismagius didn’t wait for even a moment after his words were acknowledged to phase through the nearest wall and out of sight. His exhaustion might’ve been the most noticeable one around, but was far from the only one. “^How’s being a nanny working out?^”
Marco rolled his eyes at his sister’s tease. He found it amusing, though, looking up with a soft smile at all the kids on the bed before shifting his seat on the clinic’s floor over closer to them. “^I think I did fine. Anne was a bit intimidated at the start, but... I told her I wasn’t too good at this, and a hug helped resolve the tension before it could build up any more. Afterwards it was all watching over just in case it’d get any tense, which it didn’t. Cadence did great.^”
“^I’m so proud of her,^” Aria smiled.
“^Me too.^”
Despite their best efforts in keeping it on the down low, the Kirlia in question noticed her mom’s and uncle’s thoughts being aimed at her, looking over her shoulder. The pair of beaming smiles made her look right back with her blush rekindled, leaving the adults to chuckle among themselves—
...
...
Marco blinked in surprise at seeing his sister’s expression go from soft, tired chuckle to narrowed focus in an instant. It didn’t take long for the dots to connect in his head either, eyes widening to check that Cadence hadn’t noticed the shift. Thankfully, she hadn’t. The Gallade looked up at his sister again before they both nodded at each other, trying to maintain calmness no matter what.
Aria’s expression was little more than a frozen mask as she walked through the healer tent, rolling her shoulders and stretching her joints. Her focus narrowed with every step. Her heartbeat first sped up before being forcibly slowed down. She felt her aura concentrate as she recalled her rusty combat training and counted every tool she had at her disposal.
She knew full well that should it come down to blows; she stood little chance.
With a final step, the Gardevoir emerged from behind the clinic’s front entrance. Her eyes narrowed further as she stared straight ahead, breath growing even more shallow. Every single fiber of her body tensed up in anticipation, preparing for anything, but especially for the worst.
“^Cinder.^”
