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Chapter 78
Part 1
… … …
Ho, oh, ebb and flow,
Time will tell if all will hold...
Ho, oh, tears of woe,
Our time is here before we know...
… … …
Midwest Ambera
Somber and quiet was the march to Basin Canyon. A procession of twenty-five of the Gold Division's finest warriors pressed onward through the night, a night which seemed to extend for many hours too long, as though dawn itself awaited their passage.
Among them, a small Charmander fixed his eyes on the stars above, or at least what he could see behind the swarm of Watchers. The swarm seemed thinner than normal tonight, as though scattered by the radiance of the waxing moon. Vigilant as the warriors were, the Watchers seemed content to leave them alone.
But this brought no sense of security, nor did the company of the greatest team of protectors which the Gold Division had to offer – not when they marched untoward a prevailing sense of certain doom.
Alone. Char knew he wasn't the only Pokémon in the group to feel this way. He knew the warriors felt alone as well, even the hellhound at the head of the procession, the one who most needed to smother all his fear beneath brimstone and stand strong for the team in Scythe's absence. Scythe… the leader they all trusted the most, the one who had accepted, organized, and directed the whole mission, the only one who might have inspired enough confidence in his followers with his very presence – had abandoned them.
Had he planned this? Had Scythe never intended to come to the 'settlement' all along? Had he kept this a secret even from Daemon?
The waterfall which concealed the entrance to the Gold Division fed a stream which continued into the wilderness. Outside the waterfall cave, there stood only a tiny cluster of cottages where some Gold Division teams were stationed to keep watch and to guide returning members to the base. But Char had never seen those Pokémon, and had never gotten a good look at those cottages – the memory-wiping effect made sure he could never remember any precise details, and helped keep the location of the entrance hidden from enemy mind-readers.
But once the checkpoint had fallen out of sight behind them, there was nothing in the distance. Char couldn't make out anything but an endless, featureless plain of darkness to the north, and an eerie silhouette of a dark forest to the south, as they marched farther and further west. The only sounds to accompany him were the soft trickle of the nearby stream and the shuffle of footsteps on a dirt path. The warriors said nothing at all, as though bound by an unspoken vow of silence.
Even in the darkness, Char could feel the changing landscape as the journey grew longer. After an hour, the procession had abandoned the dirt path and pushed into a tall, weedy field. In fear that he would accidentally set the dry stalks ablaze with his tail, Char accepted a ride from Prince, who now wore some kind of fireproof cloth to keep his flaming crown concealed.
"What exactly is going on at Basin Canyon?" Char asked under his breath, once close enough to Prince's ears. "What is this 'settlement' all about?"
"Long story," Prince hummed. "I'd better not tell you right now."
"Why are we so quiet?" Char wondered. "Are we afraid enemies will see us?"
"We are not taking the usual route to the canyon," Prince hissed back, "just in case there's a chance Cepheus won't notice us coming."
Though Char had several more questions burning inside him, he felt it appropriate to stay quiet. Instead he tried to peer around, wondering if he would recognize any of the other Pokémon in their group that he hadn't yet noticed. There was that one Weavile belonging to Team Flamewheel, probably right at home in the darkness… there was Nidoroch from Team Remorse, the Nidoking who played as Cepheus to catch the thief… there was a Camerupt, also belonging to Prince… There was a five-Pokémon team that Char didn't recognize at all – he only knew them as Team Righteous, a group of steel-types led by an Excadrill. He'd never met them personally, and honestly didn't recognize what three of their members even were – he only heard them mentioned sometimes among the Gold Division's top teams. He noticed all three members of Team Absolution – The Luxray, Grovyle, and Machoke – looking just as stoic and confident as ever.
As he took note of the Pokémon in the group, he realized there were a few particular figures missing.
"Lily and Canniah aren't here, are they?" Char whispered.
"Absolutely not," Prince grunted quietly. "I did not allow them to go. They're still safe and asleep back at the base."
"Why didn't you let them come?" Char wondered, somewhat regretting the question immediately after he spoke it.
Prince sighed. "I made Lily a promise that I would keep her safe. And Canniah… were Kabir and I to fail to return from this ordeal, Canniah will lead the team. And if more than half the team fails to survive… Canniah has orders to dissolve the team, leave the resistance, and take Lily somewhere to live out the rest of their lives in peace."
Char also regretted the next question even before asking it, but he wanted badly enough to know the answer. "Are you going to keep Lily from future missions like this?" Char wondered. "Because you promised to keep her safe?"
"I have great trust in Lily," Prince said. "She's strong enough to stand on her own. Normally I consider her equally competent to the rest of my team. I just… consider this particular mission somewhat unreasonable. But if things go well, Lily might evolve, and I might not need to fear for her safety so much, even at times like this…"
"Hey! Shut it!" Daemon snapped from the front of the line.
Instead of following the order, Prince stomped up to the front of the line, still carrying the Charmander on his shoulder.
"I understand this is no fault of our own, but Char is the only one here who isn't properly briefed on our mission," Prince hissed. "Ideally we should tell him about the settlement before he arrives, or he might cause problems."
"Then find someone to hang back with him behind the line and brief him," Daemon ordered. "And it's not going to be you. I need you up here."
"Then I will do it," said a voice from behind Prince.
Char peered over Prince's shoulder again. A familiar pair of glowing red eyes stared back at him. Following them came the shadowy profile of a Ninetales.
"Come, Char," he beckoned. "I will explain things properly."
At the end of the third hour, the grass of the field thinned out, along with most of the terrain features. The ground underfoot had turned to a rocky, weedy badland, already cold and dry from the autumn season.
At a considerable distance behind the team, Char comfortably rode on the back of the Ninetales, eager to ask all the questions possible to try and understand the situation… and what it possibly had to do with his human plans.
"Now Jahzara's tribe, I believe their number has now surpassed one hundred," Legend began. "Back then, they numbered only sixty. Sixty Sandshrew and Sandslash who called Basin Canyon their home."
"Is it really a canyon? A big one?" Char wondered.
"A canyon grander than the visage of the sunset," Legend affirmed. "A rift down the middle of the Great Basin Desert. There stood a rainforest in millennia past. For reasons we do not understand, the climate shifted, the river dried to dust, and the plant life burned and dissolved to ash beneath the relentless sun. But when the dust settles from our little scuffle, perhaps you will perch upon its cliff, and in the morning sun, witness its glory with your own eyes. Such is the bright future for which we fight.
"Evolution has always proven itself a strange ordeal to Amberan ones. We still do not understand how Amberan Pokémon evolved before the reign of the Master; nobody has written the history. We are said to have 'everstone souls', those which resist all impulses to grow and change in our natural ways. Overseas Pokémon do not have this problem, nor do the ferals of the wild. It is as though some deity has cursed us, and only us, with stagnancy. And while spontaneous evolutions have been observed happening, they too are inconsistent and unreliable; we need certain outside stimulation to trigger the change, even when our bodies are otherwise ready.
"And so we discovered the evolving stones, or 'feral-shards' as they are now called. Tiny crumbs of unobtanium buried beneath the surface of the earth, thought to be remnants of an ancient meteor striking the continent. It takes only physical contact with such a stone, and the wishing of the heart, to unlock our sacred birthright of change. Once we learned of their power, legend has it that Amberan Pokémon formed the first exploration teams, all to hunt these precious stones and distribute them among the people. The luckiest of those exploration teams discovered hidden places bearing feral-shards in countless numbers. And one such place, we have come to know today as Basin Canyon."
"I'm certain you know of the fall of Basin Canyon. Five years ago, the Master decided he wanted all of the canyon's feral-shards for himself. So he took his brainwashed armies and violently drove out the Sandslash, ready to claim the canyon's contents for his own personal hoard. And upon purging the halls of the canyon… he decided it was not worth his time. He turned around and gave up.
"Now a certain Scyther, having led and failed the effort to defend the rightful homeplace of his clients, promised the Sandslash to personally oversee their return. And then for five years, he has reiterated this promise. Scythe has always called this coming day 'the settlement' in two different senses: that he will allow the fugitive Sandslash to settle back into their rightful home, and that he intends to settle the longstanding feud with the Master over the Canyon."
"Yeah, I think Scythe told me all of this a long time ago," Char said. "I guess, what I don't get is… how do we intend to win? What was Scythe's big plan that he spent five years making? What are we going to do when the enemy strikes? Can't they just overwhelm you with numbers again like they did the first time?"
"Eh. Heh-heh-heh, Keh-heh" Legend mysteriously cackled. "There's a reason Scythe never told you that part. But this is where things truly get interesting. To begin with, did Scythe tell you the reason the Master gave up trying to harvest the feral-shards after his decisive victory?"
"Um… because there was a mystery dungeon down there, or something?" Char tried to recall.
Legend glimmered one of his beautiful ruby-red eyes at Char. "Correct," he said. "Now tell me, how do you imagine the Sandslash were harvesting feral-shards one day, and after a fourteen-day battle, the Master finds himself completely impeded by the Basin Canyon mystery dungeon? Do you think the mystery dungeon appeared from nothing in a week and a half?"
Char blinked. "Uh… no?" he guessed, despite not understanding the implication.
"Correct again," said Legend. "Mystery dungeons do not work like that. They sprout and grow, as would a seed. They begin as tiny spatial anomalies, places of small contradiction and confusion. And over the years they develop more floors, more sectors. They grow deeper, stronger, more complex, more dangerous. According to popular theory, dungeon growth accelerates when left alone by civilized beings for long periods of time. So even if the mystery dungeon appeared at the last moment, it would not have grown strong enough to discourage the Master from plundering the feral-shards. The Basin Canyon mystery dungeon is deep. And it is strong. And it is fearsome. One among the worst dungeons known to this region of Ambera. So now… where do you think it came from?"
"Did the Sandslash create it somehow?" Char guessed, staring at the horizon as though trying to peer into the canyon from so far away. "I don't know what else could have happened."
"I will tell you the secret, but only because you need to know it, if you come with us into the canyon," said Legend, lowering his voice further. "But you cannot speak of it. See, you must understand something: the Sandslash themselves, all of them save for Shander, do not know the secret. And for our plan to succeed, they must never know the secret. Understand?"
This was strange, Char thought. The Sandslash couldn't know about the very thing that would save them? What kind of a plan was this?
"Alright, I'm listening," Char replied. "And I want the feral-shards as much as anyone else, so I won't say anything."
Legend gave Char a big toothy grin, the same way he'd smile whenever he was about to reveal a perfect surprise in a story he told. But for some strange reason, Char felt his heart sink. Something told him that this secret wouldn't exactly be a good one.
"Char… you've been in mystery dungeons before," Legend said with his smug and haunting grin. "Have you ever noticed how wild Pokémon live there?"
"…Yes, of course," Char replied slowly. "That's what makes dungeons so dangerous. The ferals. They attack you the moment they see you."
"Have you ever wondered, even just once, how those wild Pokémon can survive inside of a temporal and spatial warp, where directions and time and the laws of physics are constantly bent and broken? Have you ever imagined how a wild Pokémon wakes up one day, bathes, hunts for food, finds a mate and lays eggs and raises children, all in a place that is constantly changing and shifting all around them? In a place where Pokémon like you and I could hardly survive for more than a few days?"
Char realized he did not know the answer. He'd never asked himself this question before, not in all the time he'd been exploring dungeons. He hadn't even thought to ask Otto what it was like to live inside of a mystery dungeon before.
"It is because the mystery dungeon itself is alive. It chooses which Pokémon to accept as its own, and which Pokémon to consider as outsiders. If you are an outsider, it tries to trap you, swallow you, brainwash you, and sometimes snuff out your flame entirely… but if you are one of its own, it grants you refuge and a home. See… the Basin Canyon mystery dungeon was always there. It was home to the Sandslash themselves. And they never knew it."
"Th… how?" Char sputtered. "How does a Pokémon live inside of a mystery dungeon and not know it? I thought that only worked on feral Pokémon… but you're saying the Sandslash were… living inside of it?"
"When a dungeon accepts you as one of its own, you simply don't notice anything amiss; waterfalls might flow upside-down, and time might run backwards, yet you accept everything as normal," Legend explained. "Generally a dungeon will only accept ferals. Here, we have a rare occasion where it has accepted a civilized society. And we know this because of Shander. From him, we have also learned one very particular property of dungeons… that if you ever realize you've been living in a dungeon… it will no longer accept you. It turns against you immediately. Sadly, Shander can never return home with his people. But as long as we keep the rest of the tribe in the dark about the true nature of the dungeon… it will accept them back. And that's where our plan comes in.
"Scythe has conceived of a brilliant plan to change the layout of the canyon tunnels. This has taken him five years, and is technically still not finished. He's restructured the top three floors, which are untouched by the dungeon, and has given the Sandslash particular instructions to rearrange the lower levels. He's realized the Sandslash see and comprehend, in some manner, the tunnels underlying the dungeon curse, and by changing them, the dungeon can be made significantly more dangerous to intruders. Without knowing which tunnels are cursed and which are safe, intruders will plunge themselves into the bowels of the fearsome dungeon… where they will be swallowed, rendering them harmless. And that is our plan to neutralize Cepheus and his ilk: funnel them into the deepest and darkest dead-ends, so the dungeon will digest them whole."
"Wow. Alright, I never knew that's how dungeons worked…" Char breathed, wanting now to mentally reevaluate every dungeon he'd ever stepped inside. "So if I'm going with you guys… are you going to help me stay in the safe zones?"
"Yes. We all have our designated safe-zones arranged about the top three floors," Legend said. "I suppose one of us, perhaps Marrow, will guide you to his tunnel once we arrive. I believe this will be the extent of your briefing. Do you have any questions?"
Char felt his mind racing again. He remembered the Temporal Tower mission, where he'd learned some of the more dangerous, esoteric properties of dungeons, such as the theory that they were actually living entities… but it never dawned on him to question the dungeon inhabitants themselves…
"Y-yeah, just one for now, I guess," Char croaked out. "What… should I do? I mean, when the attack happens? I don't think I'm strong enough to help you guys fight…"
"Hmm, I believe we will decide that when it comes time," Legend said in an unsettled tone. "Rather, whomever we decide should be given guardianship of you. But I suspect your main priority will merely be to survive. It seems that Scythe merely wishes for you to witness the fight play out, and perhaps that's for the best. Whatever ensues tomorrow, keep open your eyes to bear witness. Should we win, learn from us. Should we fail, flee for your safety."
The great Ninetales hesitated to say something else. "Between you and I, Char…" he whispered discretely, "Prince has ordered me to survive at all cost. I am under orders to flee the moment things turn hopeless. If things turn dire, perhaps we might escape together."
"Oh… so you can live to tell the tale?" Char guessed. "That's actually very noble of you."
Char felt a brush from one of his tails as they restlessly shifted. "Yes… that is one of the reasons," he sighed. "The main reason… it is… in the event of our downfall… he wants me to form a family with Canniah and Lily."
The Ninetales hesitated to say something else, and this time decided against it, falling immediately silent and turning his attention to the procession of warriors some twenty paces ahead.
Char absentmindedly reached to his chest and played with the corner of his mobile scarf. He'd tied it around his neck when nobody was looking. Out of all the powerful Pokémon who called themselves his ally, within the scarf he placed his deepest hopes for his survival.
Eva… Char suddenly remembered. She's coming to find me. She… NO!
Char's heart began pounding. He tried not to let Legend notice the flare of his flame, but it was difficult this time. Eva… she had promised to be there for her master, her human… and yet…
She'll just walk down the wrong tunnels! Char realized, digging his claws into the fabric of the scarf. She's going to get trapped in the dungeon… and there's nothing I can do about it…
Eva! If you can hear me… you can't come. There are mystery dungeons everywhere. Don't… don't risk it for my sake. I'll make it out alive.
Augh… I should have listened to Xatu. I never should have let her come.
Basin Canyon
It was a six-hour journey. Continuing westward, the air became cold and dry. Landmarks and features melted away, leaving only a long, dusty flatland. Even the sky seemed larger this far out west. The warriors traversed a plane of nothingness with no sense of time or direction. Char could only trust in the guidance of Daemon to lead them all to their destination.
Char never got to see the grandeur of the canyon itself that night; only the faraway howl of the wind gave evidence to its existence. And in the sky Char beheld the same stars, incessantly twinkling as the Watchers drifted in front of them, showing no indication that any time had passed. Though Char knew the sun must be soon to rise, he still felt in the depths of his ember that he stood amidst a cursed, eternal night.
They arrived to their destination suddenly. Daemon stood at a downward-sloping tunnel in the ground.
"Remember. This is a temporary tunnel. It is designed to collapse," Daemon grunted at the crowd. "Get in, and don't wreck anything."
Char felt as though the tunnel was the throat of some massive beast, swallowing the Pokémon whole. It was tight, far moreso than any mystery dungeon he'd ever explored, even the cave dungeons. The stuffy air stung his eyes, and the taste of wet dirt and mold clawed at the back of his throat.
Prince ducked his head to enter. Char needed to lay forward and practically suffocate himself in Legend's fur to make himself fit. Glancing behind him, Char saw Nidoroch in the light of his tail flame, blocking up the entire tunnel as he crawled on all fours. Char was scared to even see how the larger Pokémon, like a Luxray or a Camerupt, intended to enter.
And it was a long tunnel. The dark descent lasted for seemingly another entire hour. Worse, the tunnel was unnaturally steep, as though a misstep might send one of them, or maybe all of them, tumbling down into the abyss.
"What a nice grave you've dug out for us, Remorse," said Kain from further back, earning a nervous laugh from some of the others.
Char's heart leapt with relief when Prince suddenly disappeared, and in his place there appeared an exit hole into a spacious, well-lit area. Once Legend gracefully leapt from the hole in the wall, Char realized he'd finally entered the fabled Basin Canyon. The halls were much more spacious than he'd always pictured. And it was deliberate architecture, like an underground temple, with a flat, brick-paved ground and yellow glowstones to light the way. He pictured Scythe, Marrow, and Raon walking these halls, discussing where to put the dungeon entrances.
"Prince, take them and report to Adarc," Daemon commanded. Then he turned to Char and added, "You two, stay back with me for a moment."
So Legend, still content to remain the Charmander's steed for the moment, stood aside and waited for the procession to pass. He watched in amazement as several large Pokémon squeezed their way out of the tunnel (wondering why they didn't just go first) until at last, Team Righteous brought up the rear and followed the rest somewhere down the hall and around the corner.
Char then noticed a Sandslash who'd been stationed nearby, possibly one of Shander's brothers. "That's it for this door!" he squeaked, pulling a lever in the nearby wall. There was a short, thunderous crash from far away, and then a shocking explosion as a spray of dust and pebbles burst from the side tunnel. Even Legend jumped at the sound, though neither Daemon nor the Sandslash seemed to react at all. When the dust settled, the tunnel was blocked up with a massive boulder, and presumably the rest of it had entirely collapsed.
Daemon glowered at Char and spoke sternly, "Do you know anything about this, Charmander?"
"A-About what?" Char stammered. "About coming here? About why Scythe wanted to stay home? No! I don't know anything. I wasn't even planning to come. I was out building a base with my team when High Intelligence sent for me. I didn't plan for any of this…"
"I'm still not entirely certain why you've come," Daemon said. "Understand: I've allowed you to come only because of your claim that High Intelligence sent you. At the moment, I trust their judgment more than I trust Scythe. I just… grrrrnnn."
Daemon suddenly cast an intense, irritated glare at the Sandslash, who immediately scampered away like a spooked mouse.
"You've worked with Scythe enough to know that his decisions don't always make sense to everyone," Daemon continued. "I've learned to trust his judgment. But he also trusts me to question him when I think he's making a mistake. And with every wisp of my ember within, I believe he's just made the biggest mistake of his career. So listen to me, Charmander: were you to die tomorrow, your blood won't be on my claws. Because I've done everything I could to save you."
Though Char's heart sank at these words, he kept himself composed enough to respond, "I understand. If there is anything tomorrow that I can help with, I'm willing to follow orders."
Daemon snorted. "Trust me, unless that Call of yours goes off again, there's not a blazing thing you can do to help us tomorrow. But if you join me in a moment at the final briefing, you might learn enough about our operations to stay out of our way. And maybe, if you're lucky enough, to survive."
That's… actually not a bad idea, Char realized. The Call. Maybe that's why I came here. Did I plan for this? Is the Call going to happen tomorrow to turn the tides of the battle?
"…Well. You never know. Maybe that's exactly what's going to happen. Fate surprises us all," Char said, feeling stronger at hearing himself speak the words.
Daemon pointedly ignored his words of optimism before he addressed Legend. "If you are content in being a mount for this lizard, can I trust you to watch him?"
"Yes, if these would be my orders," Legend replied.
"Then they are," Daemon huffed. "Until he is otherwise assigned to someone else, your orders are to keep Char alive. And preferably not to lose him to the canyon's depths."
"Understood," Legend spoke with a reverent bow.
"Good," said Daemon, beginning to step away. "Now follow. Time to see what Adarc has decided upon."
Once Daemon was far enough ahead to be out of earshot, Legend whispered to his rider, "'Fate surprises us all'. I like that phrase. Rings of poignancy and mystery. May I borrow that phrase to use in my storytelling?"
"Actually… I'd prefer if you didn't," Char said quickly. "It's… it doesn't mean what you think it means."
"As you wish," Legend sighed, following in Daemon's footsteps down the hall.
As Char got to see more of the canyon – or at least, the dwellings within the canyon walls – it astounded him how different it looked from the way he always imagined it. Scythe and his team always talked about the tunnels and caves they were digging, so Char pictured a complex network of windy dark burrows, similar to the one he'd just crawled through. What he instead beheld was more like a spacious, decorative castle with wide hallways and grand rooms, many tall enough for huge royal pillars to prop them up. The walls were all brick, with each layer a slightly different shade of gray or silver, forming a captivating sort of grayscale rainbow, its uniform stripes spanning across every wall, around corners and into side-chambers, as far into the distance as Char could see. The tiled stones on the floor below seemed polished as glass, and Legend's claws made tiny tapping sounds as he padded along.
"Big place?" Char breathed as they stepped into a very large room with weird rows of staircases up the walls.
"Indeed. Larger than even the Gold Division base," Legend said with a hint of reverence in even his own voice. "I haven't seen all of it, only the tunnels where I was assigned. But I would still prefer to live in the Gold Division, where one runs no risk of making a wrong turn and… finding oneself lost, if you understand what I mean."
"Do you know the safe tunnels?" Char wondered.
"There is a trick to it," Legend said. "The safe tunnels have a subtle marking, mixed with four types of false markings. I will explain things in private later. There are also floor-maps, like this one." He motioned toward his side, where there was a strange array of colored bricks framed upon the wall. "Though you also need to know which are the real maps, and which are false."
Another large room brought Char a shiver of awe. It was practically a temple, beautifully arranged and carved as such… but instead of deity-statues, there stood monumentally large diamond pylons which seemed to change colors as Char passed by. Another hallway had tiny chunks of diamonds protruding from the ceiling, almost resembling the stars of a clear night sky as they sparkled in the glowstone-light.
"This place is incredible," said Char. "So much work went into all this… it's all so beautiful. I hope we can save it. Not just for the feral-shards, but just because it's so gorgeous! It took decades to build, didn't it?"
"How long Basin Canyon has stood, I do not know. Nor do I know how long that such artistry has stood within its walls," said Legend passively. "But all of it can only be the work of the Sandslash tribe who rightfully lives here. Ground-types are the architects of our world. Their mastery and intuition over the rock and soil is unmatchable. The beauty you see before you, around you… it is the heart and soul of generations made manifest. And you are indeed correct, Char. One might consider this artistry more precious than the feral-shards in the caverns below."
"I always thought Basin Canyon was just a big cave," Char whispered. "But I see it now. Basin Canyon is a kingdom."
Deeper in to the canyon, the glow-stones turned from yellow to orange, reminding Char of the ghost torches at the Gold Division, but with an unsettling difference in hue. This was a darker orange, more lava-like. Char wondered if these strange colors helped the Sandslash in some way, or if they were meant to serve as a hindrance for intruders.
"Are the orange lights supposed to mark a different section of the building, or something?" Char wondered.
Legend gave him a gleaming smile, his own tan-colored fur now washed out in the deep-glowing ember-light. "The stones have not changed color," he only said, refusing to elaborate further.
Before Char could ask another question, an overwhelming fire-glow light struck his eyes. He had to squint and cover his face as Legend carried him into a new chamber of the subterranean castle, a hall so vast and otherworldly that nothing in the Gold Division even compared.
It was a grand throne room, saturated with the vivid and blinding colors of a gorgeous sunset. No, of a mighty fire! The deep reds and oranges burned brightly upon the reflective polished-stone-tile floors, and danced across the mighty gray walls and ceiling archways. The six pillars which stood near the edges of the room all appeared as great lava falls in the all-encompassing firelight. How truly stunning and surreal this was, like one of those dreams Char would experience right before waking up in the morning.
And then Char beheld the source of the light. The entire back wall of the chamber was on fire. No, it was fire. Not lava, not embers, but a supermassive wall of pure firelight, almost as bright as the sun and too intense to stare at for more than a moment. A wall of firelight standing thousands of times Char's size, standing at least five stories tall. The dancing flame-tips could not be seen, as though they extended past the ceiling, leaving only a solid wall of blazing light and color. The fire made no noise except for a low, ever-present rumble that resembled a faraway waterfall, or perhaps a thunderstorm, and it did not seem to overheat the room; Char barely felt a shift in temperature; the radiance felt like soft sunlight upon his skin.
"Firehall" said Legend with a proud smile. "Not a very imaginative name, but my favorite room, by far."
"Mine too," Char instantly decided, spellbound by the glorious atmosphere of it all. Perhaps the all-encompassing firelight was somehow only for decoration. Yet… his Charmander body had never felt so alive, his ember now wanting to burst from his heart and join the great flame in its dance. He'd never felt more powerful, and yet at the same time more comfortable, than standing in this 'Firehall'… Like a child yearning for its mother's protective warmth.
"Hey! Get a move-on, Sparky!" Someone called from somewhere in the hall, casting a distorted echo throughout the room.
Char turned in the direction of the voice. There at the front of the room, upon a strange golden throne-like pedestal, surrounded by all the great warriors and all the sons of Jazhara involved with the Basin Canyon project all gathered together for a grand meeting… there stood a Scyther. A tall, imposing, powerful Scyther.
"That's… Scythe…" Char whispered. "What's… I thought… wasn't he…"
"Ah yes, that's what I thought as well, at first," hummed Legend. "No, this is an old clanmate of his. An acquaintance from even before the days he served the Master, raised by the same ways and trained by the same arts. In some respects, he is a match for Scythe's abilities. Truly, few can tell the difference at first sight. But no – this is not Scythe. This is his clan-brother, Adarc. Adarc the Ferocious."
As Legend approached the gathering of Pokémon, Char couldn't take his eyes off the Scyther. Every instinct in his body told him this was Scythe. Char tried to spot some sort of identifying feature that would help convince himself it was someone different – the height, the stance, the eye color, or perhaps some sort of scar or marking – but no, there was nothing for him to notice. The look of power and confidence – and even the tiny sideways glance the Scyther had given the Charmander has he grew near was too similar to the way Scythe would always regard him.
But the difference became clear the moment Adarc opened his mouth. The loud, aggressive, voice that had caught Char's attention – it had come from him.
"Is that everyone? Good? Good. I'm making this quick," shouted the Scyther. "As you may or may not have heard by now, our time is up. Cepheus has given every indication of attacking at dawn tomorrow. Like all of you, I'd have hoped for at least four more days to prepare, but Cepheus apparently can't be bothered to care. He knows we're here, he knows what we want, and he intends to kick us all out for good. Whatever we've got is what we've got. Salveth, what's the status of the Omicron tunnel?"
"Not nearly done," reported a Sandslash who stood beside Shander. "It only goes down four floors and doesn't connect to the mining halls."
The Scyther shook his head. "Can you make it collapsible? How fast?"
"Not fast enough," sighed Salveth.
"Make the entrance collapsible, then," he decided, turning to everyone. "During the battle, nobody is to enter the Omicron tunnel, or the Lambda tunnel, or any of the eastern tunnels. That's an order! It's too late to keep out the enemy, but don't let them chase you into the dead-ends. Then there's no saving you. As for the viable tunnels, we have several options. Alpha tunnels are our best bet. Prince, I'd like you to take the Alpha tunnels. Daemon, you take the Gamma tunnels. The more we can funnel down there, the better. And the entrance?"
"Good as it's going to get," said another Sandslash.
"Fine. Alright. Fine," said the Scyther, stepping down off the throne platform and pointing to a floor-plan map on the wall. "Shander, take two of your own and rig the Omicron tunnel to collapse. Everyone else, halt all construction projects. Understand, we're in the endgame here and we've got one shot. Failure means we lose the canyon and possibly the entire Gold Division if nobody can evolve. Everybody needs to be ready for this fight. Everybody needs to know their place. Since everyone is here, we'll go over everything one more time. Absolution, you three are in charge of branches Beta-one through Beta-three. Ensure any opponents get funneled into Beta-five, which funnels into the Alpha-branch. This should not be difficult if Cepheus has given orders to any of his forces to rush for the feral-shard mines. If he chooses to focus his efforts on fighting at the front lines, we can keep control of the battlefield more efficiently as long as we keep most of them in the Alpha tunnel. Righteous, you will guard the Sandslash. Keeping them alive is key to this whole project. You will need to escort the tribe into the Delta tunnels…"
Adarc kept barking out orders for several minutes, and Char didn't really understand most of what he was saying. But at least now he could tell this wasn't Scythe. Scythe had a certain underlying comradery in his voice, even when giving orders and speaking from his position of authority, as though he and his teammates were all close friends. Adarc, on the other blade, spoke loudly and forcefully, almost as though he were a clone of Daemon trapped in a Scyther's body. Char got the impression he was not a friendly person, and would not hesitate to slice apart the Pokémon he didn't like. Though as he listened, Char thought he sensed bits of fear and nervousness behind his aggressive demeanor. Perhaps he was panicking on the inside. Perhaps he was forcing himself to stay level-headed and straight-sighted despite the inner panic, like a fire-type trying to keep their flame contained.
Something about this isn't right, Char suddenly realized about ten minutes into Adarc's comprehensive mission briefing.
At first, he couldn't place his claw on it. But his subconscious was screaming at him. It wasn't the Scyther who looked suspiciously like Scythe. It wasn't the strange gathering of seven Sandslash and almost fifty elite warriors. He started focusing on all the Pokémon in the room, one at a time, trying to remember their names and read their facial expressions.
Char wasn't really listening when Adarc shouted about something about using items during the battle. "Does everyone understand?" he demanded.
Char felt it again. Something about the way Adarc said "everyone".
Everyone. Everyone was here, weren't they? Except for Scythe, obviously. And except for Raon, who was designated to stay back at the base. And except for Lily and Canniah, who were supposed to stay out of danger.
Wasn't there someone else who was supposed to be here. Yet, even after double-checking every member of the crowd, Char didn't see them.
"I have a question," Char found himself shouting at a moment when Adarc had given a pause between statements.
The Scyther's ferocious glare immediately fell upon him, as did the eyes of everyone in the room. Some surprised, some annoyed, as though Char dared to waste precious time. But Char was absolutely sure he wanted to say something.
"You said everyone is supposed to be here? At this meeting, I mean?" Char asked.
Adarc's eyes scanned the room. "Everyone who is meant to be present is currently present," he affirmed. "Although, now that you mention it… who exactly are you?"
"Nevermind that," Char confidently replied. "Where is Marrow? Why isn't he at the meeting?"
There was an uncomfortable murmur about the room. Legend looked back at him with a strange and unreadable expression.
With a sudden buzz of wings, Adarc jumped across the room and landed next to Legend, giving Char a startle. "Marrow… is exactly where he needs to be at the moment," said the imposing Scyther. "And I wonder why you don't already know that…? I assumed you were here for a reason. So what, exactly, are you doing here, newcomer? And why should I trust you?"
"I brought him on request of High Intelligence," Daemon said quickly. "Apparently, he is supposed to be here. His name is Char. He is a trusted member of the Gold Division."
"On request of High Intelligence, you say?" Adarc said sourly. "Tell me: did you hear this from High Intelligence themselves, or did you hear it from him?" Adarc poked Char in the shoulder with a blade-tip.
"No, High Intelligence themselves did not tell me this," Daemon grumbled. "But Scythe…"
"Get him out of my sight," roared Adarc, slapping Char right off the back of the Ninetales.
"Adarc, he is not a spy," Daemon grunted back. "He is a renowned figure among the division."
"I don't care. I don't care. Get him out of here. I don't care how trustworthy you think he is. How hard to you think Cepheus needs to squeeze him before he spills our secrets? I cannot risk having our most sensitive information compromised by a child."
Char stayed still on the floor for a moment, trying to decipher what was going on. Daemon cast an angry glare at the Charmander. Possibly resenting Char for speaking out of line. And Legend cast more of a sad glance at him.
"I said LEAVE." Adarc shouted. "Get this thing OUT. This meeting will not continue until he is gone."
Char wanted to speak back. For a moment, he thought about standing up for himself against the Scyther. But he decided it wasn't worth it. Adarc was clearly too stressed to deal with one more problem at the moment. And nobody but Daemon seemed to want to stand up for him, and even Daemon had given up. Char shut his mouth and admitted defeat.
"Come then, Char," sighed Legend, motioning for him to climb onto his back again. "I'll take you to my quarters. You can rest for the night."
As Legend quickly carried him away, Char found he was more loathe to leave this gorgeous fire-hall room than he was to miss the rest of the meeting. Although the issue with Marrow still didn't sit right to him.
"So… do you know what happened to Marrow?" Char asked the Ninetales once they were well down the hall and out of anyone's earshot.
"I was only told, yesterday, that Marrow was… taken off the project," Legend explained. "I was told nothing more, except not to ask any further questions. I apologize, Char. This was my fault. I was told to brief you, and I did not even consider this a significant enough matter to mention. I'm surprised, honestly, you even noticed he was missing."
"Marrow was our mentor for a whole week," Char said plainly. "I've had more exposure to him than to any other member of Team Remorse, except for Scythe himself. And he liked to talk about working at the canyon. It didn't feel right not having him here. Now I really wonder what happened…"
"And I as well, but it is neither the time nor the place to ask questions," Legend said sadly. "Not on the eve of a great battle. I assume he's at the Gold Division base at the moment. Possibly keeping company with Raon. But again, I was not here for the incident, so I cannot tell you much more."
"…Incident…?" Char repeated. "So you know there was an incident?"
"Other than a disagreement of some sort, I cannot imagine what else might have prompted Adarc to remove him from the project," Legend considered.
"I don't know; seeing that he just removed me from the project for asking a simple question, and not even answering it, I get the impression that it's not too unlikely," Char hummed. "Does Adarc usually have such a short fuse?"
"No. Not at all," Legend said, turning a corner and entering a smaller hallway with very low clearance. "For as long as I've worked with Adarc, he has seemed quite stoic and deliberate; it's very apparent, to me at least, that our looming threat of danger has put him on edge." With a nervous chuckle, he added, "…But then again, I'd imagine he's earned a title such as 'Adarc the Ferocious' for a reason. Perhaps he only reveals his truest nature in the blaze of battle."
Halfway down a long, plain, symmetrical hallway not unlike a team hall at the Gold Division, Legend stepped through a doorway – a doorway with no door, Char noticed – arriving at his designated personal chamber. Three glowstones bolted to the walls cast a dry yellow light onto a humble assortment of Legend's possessions. There was a small red mat at the side of the room, presumably for sleeping. Next to it, there was a rudimentary stone bookshelf with about fifteen books. There was a single book still laying open on the floor beside the mat, with a fur-tassel bookmark between the pages. At the other side of the room, Char noticed a surprisingly tidy assortment of folded scarves (how does a Ninetales fold a scarf so well with no hands, Char thought), an organized table of bracelets and presumably enchanted things, and a basket of non-perishable food like nuts and seeds.
"You may stay here for now," Legend instructed, bowing low to help Char climb down. "I would keep you company, but I must return to the meeting. I promise, I will tell you anything I think you might need to know. In the meantime, feel free to sleep here, or to read my books if you'd like."
"Thank you, Legend," Char said simply. "How long until you're back?"
"I do not know. Perhaps an hour. Perhaps three. It depends on how long Adarc will speak. Perhaps never, if Adarc assigns me a post tonight," he said, almost bitterly. "Regardless, I will not forget our pact."
Char watched the Ninetales turn to leave the room, his thick pile of tails dragging limply and somberly across the floor, betraying a certain loss of hope that Char knew he'd tried to keep hidden. "…Right. We escape together," he remembered. "Where should I meet you? If the battle goes wrong, I mean."
"I will check here, and I will check in the fire hall," Legend replied. "If I find somewhere better, I'll make sure Prince tells you, if you do not see me by the morning time."
The Ninetales cast a strange look at Char, as though to say, I hope you understand it is unlikely I can save you. Then he turned and bolted away, leaving Char alone.
Char's first instinct was to sneak out of the room and look in the other living quarters, all of which also had no doors. And that's exactly what he did. But of the seven other rooms nestled back in this nook of the canyon, six were completely empty (five of which didn't even have glowstone lights). The seventh was obviously someone else's living quarters, possibly another Team Flamewheel member, and it literally had nothing but a pile of dirty scarves and a bed-pad. Legend's room seemed downright royal compared to this one. There was nothing else really to notice.
…Except for one thing: a large bone sticking out from underneath the pile of cloth. Or rather, Char soon realized, a bone club.
"…Marrow?" Char gasped, rushing into the room and shoving the top layer of scarves away.
But Marrow wasn't there – only a bone club. But it was definitely his bone club. Char remembered Marrow using this very one on their mission to the Quarry.
Char picked it up, or at least he tried. It was quite heavy and awkward. He realized he probably needed to be a Charmeleon to carry it efficiently. But it seemed like a strong weapon, polished and unscathed, in good solid shape. Char wondered if Marrow had meant to leave this behind, and whether he would be wanting it back.
There was a footstep outside the door. Char dropped the club and carefully peeked around the side of the doorway and into the hall beyond, but there was nobody to see. Char realized the sound could have come from nearly anywhere in the nearby halls. Sound carried very far these halls, Char noticed. Sometimes he even thought he heard murmurs of Adarc's voice from four hallways away.
Char's next instinct was to explore the canyon halls while nobody was around to notice. But this time, he decided against it. Knowing he might wander into the dungeon, or even just fail to find his way back somewhere that Legend would look for him, it was too big of a risk for someone without a ground-type's sense of spatial awareness.
So Char decided to take Legend's suggestion and pass the time by looking through his books. Maybe one of them was written in Unown. Maybe one of them could somehow, someway, help him learn to read. Or at the very least, maybe one of them had pictures…
By the time he got to the fourth book on the shelf, finding it, like all the rest, was written in nothing but tiny, incomprehensible footprint glyphs, a dire thought occurred to Char.
What if… I was meant to read these books?
Char looked at the book in his hand. A small hard-bound tome, about four hundred pages. All meaningless to him. Yet he set the book down and flipped through the pages in a strange sort of panic, wondering if something, anything, would jump out at him.
What if this was my plan? What if I somehow set this up to happen?
What if this is why I needed to read by now?
So… is this it? Am I doomed? Did I ruin my plan?
Is there something important in one of these books that I won't be able to read?
Char flipped quickly through the book, getting to the end in only a minute. He set the book aside into the corner and took the fifth one. A bigger book with less pages. All footprints. All the same to him. With his heart racing, Char tossed it aside once he realized it was hopeless.
Then he noticed the book on the floor. The one Legend had left open.
There was a picture on the page. A dragon soaring amidst a starry sky.
No. Not a dragon. This was an artist's depiction of Arceus. A very stylized depiction. Char felt spellbound by the picture for a moment, wondering if it meant something. Perhaps the illustration meant to depict Arceus in his dragon-type form.
Char suddenly felt a strange compulsion to say something. To pray to this depiction of the Pokémon god.
"Arceus…" he whispered quietly, touching the picture. "I want to change something. Will you let me?"
But the picture didn't answer, and Char felt no repressed memories rising to the surface. This, according to the Lord of Time himself, was Char's simple plea which had started everything. It started the plan, it led to Char's transformation into a Charmander, and it led to his amnesia. And yet… Char felt nothing when he spoke these words. No profound significance. No deep stirring of the embers. No subconscious resonance. For all Char knew, the words were uttered by someone else entirely.
Char considered that perhaps he really was a different person. Perhaps becoming the Charmander made him something else. Someone else. Someone with nothing in common with his previous incarnation – at least, nothing but his so-called 'silver soul'.
"I'm here! Sorry to have kept you," Hissed a very familiar, very comforting voice.
Char's attention snapped from the drawing of Arceus to the open doorway, where there stood a sly, smiling Espeon, her tail swiveling with pride and satisfaction.
"…Eva!" Char hissed, stunned in surprise. "What are you… doing here?!"
Eva didn't hesitate to saunter right into the room and cuddle up at Char's side, curling possessively around him. "I promised I wouldn't leave you," she hummed warmly, nuzzling the side of his head. "And now that I am here, I am not leaving your side. You have nothing to fear, my master. Not with an immortal Pokémon to protect you."
"J- How'd you get in?" Char gasped. "Not that I'm complaining you're here! I'm so glad you're here… but how'd you get in? You couldn't have followed me… the tunnel we took to get here completely collapsed…"
"I'm much more resourceful than I might seem, my master," she purred. "But if you must know… when I delivered the scarf to you, I stood close enough to the other Pokémon to read their minds. And among their thoughts, I found the true entrances to the Basin Canyon complex. Nidoroch, Kain, and Prince all knew matching information. I also learned of the mystery dungeon here, and how to avoid it."
"Ah… I was so worried for you," Char sighed, leaning into her cuddle and relaxing for a moment. "I really thought you'd take a wrong turn and get lost… The last thing I wanted was for you to face your worst fears because of me."
"You underestimate how much wisdom one grows when they've lived as long as I have," Eva whispered. "I told you, you can trust me. I know what I'm doing. And besides that… if it became at all necessary… I hope you know that I would brave the deepest, darkest dungeons for you, my master. I would be terrified… but I accept such things as the cost of serving my human."
"Eva… sometimes I think I don't deserve you," Char sighed forlornly, burying his head into the Espeon's fur and stroking her back.
"You don't need to deserve anything," she soothingly replied. "Your merits and your flaws are irrelevant. I've chosen to serve you; it's as simple as that. And it's not my fault that I'm the only Pokémon on this god-forsaken continent who knows the correct way to serve her human. Now… whatever's going on at this canyon tomorrow, let's get through it together. Alright? We'll get through this and get you back to Team Ember by this time tomorrow. Okay?"
"Okay… okay," Char said, letting himself feel happy and content for the first time in many hours. "Yeah. I don't know what's going on either. But yeah. Let's do this."
And for five long, wonderful minutes, Char simply laid there, collapsed in his warm embrace with the Espeon. The longer he laid still, the brighter and stronger Eva seemed to rekindle his inner fire, and consequently his hope, his courage, and his confidence. After being left alone and confused, he felt his ember finally recharging.
"Oh. Speaking of which," Eva said, perking up suddenly. "The reason I took an extra moment to get here: I brought something. Since we might be facing the dreaded Basin Canyon mystery dungeon, I've smuggled in a few things."
With telekinesis, she produced a small item pouch from underneath herself. She dumped its contents onto the floor, revealing it to be a pocket-dimension bag – tiny on the outside, much bigger on the inside. Onto the floor, there tumbled a pair of reviver seeds, and a pair of Char's emblem-scarves.
"It took me a moment to find the scarves," Eva said, tying one around her neck, and the other around Char's arm. "Ray did not hide them in his normal place."
"This is perfect…" Char said with an even deeper sigh of relief. "Now we don't need to be afraid of the dungeon. Maybe we could run and hide down there, and we won't be lost forever. This is just what we needed! Now it's just Cepheus we have to worry about."
Eva scoffed and looked at the ceiling. "Oh. Somehow, I believe he won't be much of a bother either. At least to the both of us," she assured him. "He will have to get through me first. And he might find the both of us very difficult to hit."
Char thought for a moment. "Actually… will you do something for me?"
"Yes, anything," Eva said interestedly, with a sparkle in her eye.
"If you're going to protect me during the fight… would you protect Legend the same way?" Char asked. "It's… kind of important that he survives too. So… if I'm your top priority, he should be your second priority, okay?"
"Hm. The Ninetales? Certainly," Eva promised with a nod of her head. "Consider it done. He will live as well. Unless, of course, I must choose. But I cannot see -"
"YOU."
The sudden sound of a very enraged voice broke the tender moment between Char and his partner.
Char and Eva both turned to the doorway to see a Pokémon standing there.
A Marowak.
"IT'S YOU." Marrow growled from the bowels of his throat, brandishing a very long, deadly-looking club. Pointing it directly at Char's face.
No. Not at Char's face. Eva's face.
Slowly, warily, Marrow stepped towards the two, with a frightening, unhinged flame in the eyes behind his helmet. "It was you all along, wasn't it?" he growled, waving his club at the Espeon.
"Marrow…" Eva replied, quick to stand up and protect Char. "What are you talking about? What's the matter?"
The Marowak, keeping his club threateningly leveled at the Espeon's forehead gem, started to laugh like a lunatic. "YOU. YOU'RE the matter!" he shouted, choking on his own laughter. "It all makes sense. It… it all makes sense! Heh… heheh… the timing of it. The sheer, gall-rotten timing! Everything was fine until YOU showed up! YOU! THAT'S when everything started to fall apart! You got Char to trust you. Heck, ya even got ME to trust you for a bit. But I never should have trusted you. I should've listened to my deep-down gut telling me that somethin' about you was just not right."
"Marrow…" Eva tried again, stepping back and standing protectively over Char. "Neither of us have any idea what you're talking about… So very kindly, would you calm down, and start at the beginning?"
The Marowak swung his club a hair's width from the Espeon's face, nearly swatting her snout clean off. "YOU KNOW JUST WHAT I'M TALKIN' ABOUT!" he shouted. "Youuuu. You're the mole-rat! You're the one passing all our secrets to Cepheus, aren'tcha? And you're the one who ERASED MY MEMORIES! Ahah… Ahahahah… and you might think you're SO CLEVER. Don'tcha, girl? You think nobody would figure you out. But this old dirt-lizard figured you out. Despite all your snively, conniving charms, I know… you're the reason Basin Canyon is about to fall."
Chapter 78 Part 2: Twitch reading on April 11th, publication on April 12th
Chapter 79: Twitch reading on April 18th, publication on April 19th
Chapter 80: Twitch reading on April 25th, publication on April 26th
Twitch readings are planned for Mondays at 7:30 PM US Central time.
While Twitch readings are subject to possible delay or cancellation, publications will always occur as planned. (Don't worry, it's for real this time. Vulpi basically has a knife at my throat now.)
I hope you guys enjoy the season finale as much as I've looked forward to writing it. Hope to see you at the Twitch readings, or at least in the review boards! Let me know how many people are still reading, would you? It does wonders for my motivation...
(Also, a note for those of you who post comments as anonymous reviewers: look, I actually answer most non-rhetorical questions that people ask me in the reviews. But I can't reply if you're anonymous! So if you actually want an answer to something, either log in before you review, or come to my Discord server and ask me there!)