Leo fiddled with the stone cube, his fingers tracing the designs as he flipped it over and over, examining its every side. To him, it looked just like a normal, if exquisitely carved, stone. He had no idea why the woman on the mountain would have been hunted over it, and neither Professor Oak nor his own limited researching into the subject had borne any fruit as to what the stone might be, or why it had been important. If it was important at all, and not just symbolic in some way.

With a sigh Leo put the stone back in his backpack and looked out over the lawn of the Sprout Tower, admiring the beauty of it all. A burbling creek ran through the middle of a perfectly manicured lawn, Bellsprout wandering about the edges of the lawn and leaping in and out of the tall green hedges that bordered the property in some sort of game. People and monks – sorry, 'sages' – milled about in the area, children running wild as their parents took in the beauty and historical significance of the area.

The tower itself was relatively tall, at least five stories, and the big pagoda was covered in mossy vines and red tiled roofs that gave a splash of vivid color to the almost unnaturally green grounds. It was beautiful, in a natural, overgrown kind of way.

Leo himself was waiting for a tour to start, and was killing time. It was the day after he got his badge from Falkner, and after he'd had a conversation over the video phone with Professor Oak, during which he'd congratulated Leo on the win and assured him that using Diana during gym battles was OK ("I know I said to be cautious, but I really just meant to not walk around with her out of her pokeball in cities, or use her in casual battles. Gym battles are perfectly acceptable, and expected even. I wouldn't deny you that, and you need to bond with her. Battling is a good way to do that," he'd said.) Leo had decided that he wanted to visit the Sprout Tower before he left.

The little history he did know was cool – they were an offshoot of Ecruteak's own religious sect. The difference was that they used to worship Celebi rather than Ho-oh and Lugia. That worship had since died off, but the respect towards grass-types still remained, hence why Bellsprout, the most common grass-type in the area, was so heavily revered in the tower. Apparently they used to think of the Bellsprout as "Celebi's blessing." That could have something to do with the hundred-foot-tall Bellsprout that allegedly formed the center pillar of the tower, though. Whether that was just folklore or not, Leo wasn't sure. He'd be interested to find out though.

A gentle nudge had Leo pulling himself out of his thoughts, looking down at Zuko, who whined at him pitifully.

"What's up, bud?" he asked. Not all fire-types were allowed on the Tower grounds, but the sages had said Zuko was ok so long as he behaved, so Leo had let him out to run around. He was his most well-behaved pokémon, after all.

"Quiiiilll," Zuko whined, pawing again and looking at the kids running about.

"What? You want to play?" Leo asked. In response Zuko wormed his way under Leo's hand and stood up, placing his front paws on Leo's chest and licking his face excitedly. Leo laughed and shoved him off, standing in one smooth motion and taking off at a sprint across the tower courtyard. Zuko sprinted after him, nipping at his heels as Leo juked, jumped, and dodged out of the way of the fire-type in a game of chase, laughing the whole way.

A few Bellsprout even joined in on the fun, snaking vines and leaves to trip up the duo and wiggling happily whenever Leo or Zuko would stumble over the grasping appendages. During one such time, when Leo had the misfortune of running straight into a cleverly hidden vine and fell face-first into the grass, Zuko jumping on his chest shortly after and licking his face much like a hyper-excited puppy, he even whistled the tune to the Bellossom dance. The Bellsprout had loved that to death, wiggling and swaying in time to the tune and doing a crude approximation of dancing.

That was how Karen, future Elite Four member and budding dark-type specialist, found Leo – splayed out on the ground of the Sprout Tower, his Quilava on his chest, and four Bellsprout wiggling and gurgling happily along with his broken approximation of a whistle.

"Looks like you're having fun," she said dryly, standing over him and raising one eyebrow. Leo squinted up at her, her head blocking the mid-afternoon sun.

"Hey, Karen. Didn't think you'd stick around," he admitted, gently pushing Zuko off of him and sitting up. She had found him at the Pokemon Center yesterday, mid-call to Professor Oak, and had drilled him for information on Larvitar after the call was done. It wasn't that she wanted his Larvitar, like he had initially feared, more like she wanted firsthand accounts on how he found Diana as that might help her catch her own.

Very few people in the modern age had a Larvitar, as they were rare and typically seen as more difficult to handle than Dratini. Fewer still would be willing to talk to her about how to get one. So, she figured she struck gold when Leo was willing to talk to her about it. Leo, on the other hand, didn't see much harm in it. His cover story was solid enough, and finding a Larvitar was as much luck based as it was skill. He would know.

"We talked about me sticking around last night," Karen countered.

"I distinctly remember you saying you were going to consider it, not that you would, but whatever," Leo said, waving a hand dismissively. He'd actually enjoyed talking with her a little – she was young, true, but had quite a few interesting stories and a sarcastic streak a mile wide. She was a little pushy, but Leo could forgive that.

"Well," Karen said, scratching her cheek in discomfort. "I wanted to pick your brain a bit more. Besides, you could use some tips on training from an experienced trainer like myself," she grinned cockily at that, setting her hands on her hips and squaring her shoulders. Leo just raised an eyebrow at her, stamping down his smile for a neutral expression.

More experienced than Victoria or Samuel Freaking Oak? He thought to himself, not unkindly. Maybe if he were actually twelve he'd see Karen for the powerful trainer she was, and not an excitable, high-school age girl who was trying really hard to get something out of him. She wasn't mean about it, and was genuinely trying to give Leo a fair deal for his information about Larvitar with this offer to help him train though, so he wasn't adverse to the idea. In fact he welcomed it. He needed more friends than just Victoria, Professor Oak, and his pokémon.

Besides, giving her a few tips wouldn't do much harm. He could give out how to track Larvitar and see the signs of their presence, but it still came down to her own luck and skill if she'd catch one or not. He'd just have to remind her to not be stupid and piss of a Tyranitar. Only he was allowed to be stupid like that.

"Oh, could I?" Leo asked, teasingly, recalling Zuko as the Quilava barked at one of the Bellsprout. "Well right now I'm going to take a tour of the Sprout Tower – y'know, like I told you? Training can wait until later," at that Karen almost visibly deflated, as if suddenly realizing where she was.

"What does a kid like you have an interest in this tower for anyway?" she asked. "It's just an old tower," Leo just laughed and shook his head, not deigning that with a response as he headed towards where a group of people were gathering up in front of a sage. The tour was about to begin, and Leo flashed a ticket for the sage, having had to pay a not-insignificant fee for the tour. It felt a little…annoying, almost, that this tower had been partially transformed into a tourist trap, but then again it was nothing new to him. Happened all the time in his old world.

Karen, surprisingly, grumbled and handed over her own ticket, sticking her hands into the pockets of her jeans sulkily and rolling her eyes.

"We'll start with a tour of the tower interior, and slowly work our way up through the floors. Please stick together, and proceed in an orderly fashion," the sage said softly, yet his voice was not drowned out by the chattering tourists. Instead they quieted down, and followed along behind the old man in brown robes as he led them into the tower, through the green-embossed wood doors. As soon as they crossed the threshold, he began to talk of the history of the tower.

It was interesting to hear the history of it all from someone who had studied that history almost his entire life, even if it was abbreviated for the sake of the tourist group. Leo found himself listening only half-heartedly though, instead taking in the sights of the tower itself. The central pillar was massive, and was the centerpiece for most of the discussions of the sage. He waxed on and off about the various theories behind the hundred-foot-tall Bellsprout that had died and formed the pillar with its body, before ascending a level and talking of the sage practices within.

Most, Leo figured, aren't practiced anymore. Or at least are hidden away – this temple has become too public for that. Can't imagine they'd get much work done with so many tourists around.

Eventually, around the third floor, Leo got bored and started to speak with Karen in hushed whispers in the back. Mostly about training things, and Karen tried to convince him to ditch the tour because she was bored. Leo refused, of course, because if he bought a ticket for the whole tour, then he'd stick through it.

It wasn't until the tour group reached the top floor, instructed as they were to keep absolutely quiet so as not to disturb the head sage or any of the other sages meditating, that Leo found what he hadn't know he'd been looking for. The plainly-decorated tower had been bare of any pictures or ostentatious ornamentation up until this point, but here, in the tallest part of the tower, there were a number of tapestries and portraits.

The tour guide did not speak on this level and asked the group to do the same, leaving the sages to their meditations even as the tour group gawked at their surroundings.. But what drew Leo's attention were the paintings – of old sages and lords of Violet. He scanned the faces absently, men and women all dressed in plain brown robes in recent years, that slowly grew more and more extravagant and colorful the further back in time one went.

Almost as if they were running from their Ecruteak heritage, Leo mused, scanning the faces. Who, as I understand it, dress in the finest silk kimonos and robes. Gold and silver are their primary colors. They were probably trying to distance themselves from the ones who angered Lugia and Ho-oh, and burned down their sacred tower. At least, that's what they believed at the time. Many cities had distanced themselves from Ecruteak in the years following the burning of the Brass Tower, and Violet was one of them.

It wasn't until he got to the middle of the paintings that he had to do a double-take. The portrait that caught his attention was of a finely robed woman wearing numerous prayer bead necklaces, her eyes closed in prayer and hands folded in front of her. One of the necklaces had a small, circular pendant on it, carved with a design that looked very familiar…

Leo's eyes grew wide and he pulled out the stone cube, running his hands over the same wave-like design that was etched into one of its sides. The same design on the woman's necklace. That, alone, wouldn't have given Leo enough cause to draw a real parallel, only suspicion. But as he stared at the woman, engraving her face into his memory, he came to a realization.

He'd seen her before. She was the woman hidden beneath the snow, that Froslass had shown him. A shiver ran down Leo's spine as he stared at the painting, wishing it would come to life and spill its secrets to him, tell him who she was, what had happened…but eventually he settled for the next best thing. The sages who curated the Sprout Tower would surely know.

"Excuse me," Leo said, approaching the tour guide and tugging on his sleeve to get his attention. The white-haired old man raised an eyebrow at him, obviously annoyed at Leo's lack of silence. Leo didn't really care – he had to know. "Who is she?" he asked, pointing to the painting. At this the man's eyes softened, and he glanced towards another sage. The two nodded to each other, and the tour guide knelt down to Leo's level, leaning in conspiratorially.

"I will tell you when we descend," he said, and Leo nodded.

They remained on the top of the tower for a good ten minutes before descending all the way to the tower bottom, at which point the group dispersed and Leo once again approached the sage.

"Ah, the inquisitive young man," he said, stroking his wispy beard. "You asked about the paintings, yes?"

"Yes. Specifically the woman in the twenty first painting," Leo said, having counted the paintings so he knew exactly which one she was. The sage hummed and closed his eyes, then snapped his fingers in remembrance.

"Ah, yes. Lady Tsubaki. An infamous story, I am afraid. She was one of our first Elder Sages, the youngest ever to reach that level at the time, and supposedly quite beautiful. A talented trainer as well, according to the records. Alas, in those days the Sprout Tower was not an independent place of worship, instead it was under the control of Ecruteak. In the final days before the Burning of the Tower Lady Tsubaki was called to Ecruteak to participate in a ritual to appease the gods. She was within the tower when it burned down – perished in the fires," he explained. Leo absorbed this information.

"Now, do you know why we paint our elders?" the old man asked. Leo shook his head. "It started as a sign of worship towards Celebi, so the time travelling Legend may find us by face, if not name, if ever she may need to," he said, and Leo internally groaned as he sensed an incoming lecture. Well, at least he might get some more insight into Froslass from this…he already had so many questions on the subject.

Leo whistled to himself as he worked, setting up his small tent while Santiago and Zuko lay next to the fire. It was only a few days after he visited Sprout Tower – unfortunately there had been no further answers there, only more questions. Still, it was good to know that his destination should very well be Ecruteak, and Froslass had agreed.

She'd appeared again the moment he left Violet City, urging him on further and faster, despite his protests.

"You really do want to get to Ecruteak quickly, don't you. You don't want to train at all on the way?" Karen asked from where she sat next to the fire. "Morty is no slouch. Gave me a lot of trouble, even with Umbreon and Houndoom," she said, laying a hand on her Houndoom as he lounged next to her. Leo glanced at her and shrugged, hammering another stake into the ground so the tent wouldn't blow away in any wind.

"I've got an important errand to run there," he said, standing and dusting himself off. Karen grumbled something, and Leo chuckled softly. She'd stuck true to her word and had followed him out of the city, intent on learning as much as she could from him about Larvitar to up her chances of catching one. Leo, in turn, had been surprised to learn that she had a Haunter on her team, and had let her drill him for information in exchange for him questioning her about ghosts. Victoria may know a lot, but he wanted to hear more from someone who had experience with one on their team.

"Right, so you've said," Karen said, rolling her eyes. Leo smiled at her, stretching until his back popped with a pleasing crackle, then moving over to sit in front of the fire he had started, across from her. The two sat in silence for a moment, Karen rubbing her calves and muttering about the length of Routes. It wasn't honestly that far to Ecruteak, just a few more days, but hey, Routes were long. Leo wouldn't deny that. "I do have another question for you though," she said slowly, drawing Leo's attention.

He looked up at her and had to hide a sudden smile, spotting Froslass as she floated idly behind Karen. Gently she raised one palm over the silver-haired girl's head and sprinkled a few dustings of snow on top, snickering silently into her other palm.

"What's that?" Leo asked, carefully keeping his voice neutral as Froslass continued her work.

"You've been explaining tracking and such to me a lot these past few days, and I gotta know – how do you already know so much? You're what, twelve?" she asked. Leo raised an eyebrow at her. Because I've been hiking in the mountains longer than you've been alive. Was his first thought which, while true, wasn't wholly accurate. Not all that time had been spent in the mountains, unfortunately, though he had been practicing bush craft since he was four.

"Well," Leo started, pausing when he saw Karen's Haunter come out of her shadow, eyeing Froslass for a moment before a Cheshire grin stretched across its face and it started picking up twigs and leaves to stick in Karen's hair. "My dad used to take me out into the woods a lot. He showed me a lot," Leo said, stifling a laugh.

"Hmm," Karen mused, scratching her chin.

"Tell you what, tomorrow, we'll walk a little slower and I'll really put your tracking skills to the test. Sound good?" Leo asked.

"Mmm," she hummed noncommittally. Her Houndoom looked up from where it lay at her side, spotting Froslass and baring its fangs – only to stop when it spotted Haunter joining in on the fun and huffed in annoyance, lying back down on its paws.

"If you don't mind me asking," Leo began, watching Froslass dust snowflakes onto Karen's shoulder. "What made you want to be a dark-type specialist? I mean, did you always know, or did it just happen?" Karen shifted, scratching Houndoom's head as she thought. She didn't get far, though, as Haunter grabbed an entire branch covered in broad green leaves and tried to dump it on her head. She shrieked in alarm and anger, flicking the branch away and leaping to her feet, twigs and snow falling all about her as she moved.

"YOU LITTLE SHITS!" she hollered, swiping angrily at both Haunter and Froslass with open palms, the two ghosts cackling madly as they drifted higher into the night sky, out of her reach. "For the love of Ho-oh…did you see what they were doing?" she snapped, shooting a glare at Leo. He coughed into a fist, refraining from answering. She narrowed her eyes and continued to ruffle her hair, intent on getting all the debris out and grumbling about "stupid ghosts." When she was finished she sat back down next to Houndoom, who hadn't moved an inch during the whole debacle.

For a moment Leo thought she wouldn't answer his question, angry as she was. Then she started to speak again. "My starter was a psychic type, an Exeggcute. We…never really got along, and I ended up releasing him after I got my second gym badge. I'd caught Doom here," she said, patting her Houndoom, "just before then, and Ikebana, my Vileplume, just a bit earlier. From there I just continued my journey, and after my Eevee evolved into Umbreon, I released a few more partners, and I caught Haunter and my Murkrow I came to realize that I just liked dark-types more than others." She admitted with a shrug.

"They're easier to train for me, and I connect with them more. Haunter and Ikebana are the exceptions, but in general that's what I've found. Then I talked with Pryce when I challenged him for my fifth badge, and…well, he talked me into becoming a type specialist. Pity dark-types are so rare in the Indigo League," Karen admitted, her voice gradually losing the edge it had started with as she talked. She did, however, keep glancing over her shoulder to ensure the two ghosts weren't picking on her anymore.

"Huh," Leo said, scratching his chin and glancing at his pokeballs, laid off to the side. He wondered if he'd end up a type specialist someday. It didn't seem like it now, but who knew what the future held? "Makes me wonder about my own training," Karen smiled and shrugged, tossing another stick onto the fire more out of boredom than any need to feed it.

"Specializing isn't for everyone. It's given a bad rap by the general training community, what with the whole 'Generalist Supremacy' kick going around, but there's a reason most gym leaders and Champions are specialists. And it's not just because we know our type the best," she said, meeting Leo's eyes. "I can't claim to understand it all that well, but I'm starting to. We…share a connection with our type, that runs deeper than with normal trainers," she said, and left it at that.

Leo waited for more. He wanted more, but she didn't continue, clearly done with that line of thought. It made him wonder though…what did she mean by "connection?" Was it the bonds that Professor Oak studies and talks about all the time? It probably was, but still…it left him wondering. Maybe that bond was more than what the games let on.

The road to Ecruteak City turned out to be a long one, and not because of the distance but because Leo and Karen kept getting distracted. Most of the time Leo spent teaching Karen about tracking, and her giving him hints and tricks about training, which led to far too many detours. Leo, for one, was appalled at Karen's lack of tracking skills. She mostly relied on her Houndoom's nose to track what she wanted, but Leo was having none of it. He promptly had Haunter steal Houndoom's pokeball, who was more than happy to get up to some mischief, and had Karen track him and Zuko through the woods.

She hadn't enjoyed it at first. Well…she never learned to enjoy it, but after a few days of his draconian training she came around to the usefulness of tracking, mostly because she caught sight of fresh Ursaring tracks when they were setting up camp one night. That had prompted them to move, and for Karen to inform the local Rangers, which was a good idea because when they returned the next morning to check it out again they spotted where said Ursaring had killed a Stantler, before the Rangers had come and moved it off-route.

She was a bit more appreciative after that, and after Leo explained to her that Larvitar could cover their scent with dirt and stone. He hadn't run into that problem himself, lacking a tracking pokémon as he was, but he had read about it a fair bit. But either way their journey together, lacking the day-to-day wonder that travelling the Silver Mountains did, as the Routes were admittedly very well patrolled, was still pleasant, even though it came to an end just outside of Ecruteak City.

"No, no, no, you want to combine the moves, not string them together in a chain. Use quick attack and ember at the same time – don't use quick attack to reposition, stop, use ember, then jump into it again," Karen said exasperated, setting her hands on her hips – something she did whenever she was trying to look stern – and glaring at Zuko.

"He's having trouble with this," Leo remarked, frowning as he watched Zuko blur into a quick attack once more, trying at the same time to cough up embers. For the most part of their training together Karen had worked with Leo on coming up with combo attacks, and teaching him how to go about training his pokémon to use them. It was…useful, because he'd struggled with teaching his pokémon that before.

"He's not doing bad. His enthusiasm for training certainly is helping – much easier to work with than your Slowpoke," Karen remarked, keeping an eye on Zuko as he ran, spitting out a pitiful amount of embers as he struggled to keep up quick attack.

"I guess you could say he's fired up," Leo said casually, earning himself a slap upside the head.

"Enough with the puns," she said, hiding the humor in her voice.

"You're lucky I don't have any electric types. You'd be shocked at how many puns I have for them," Leo said, tracking Zuko across the battlefield. The dream was for him to use flame wheel – which, with Karen's help, Zuko had mastered – while using quick attack at the same time. For now though, they were stuck with high-speed strafing runs with ember and quick attack.

"I hate you," Karen groaned.

"You're leaving today. I have to get my puns in while I can," Leo grinned, making her roll her eyes. He refocused when Zuko tripped and went tumbling across the ground, rising to his feet panting and looking expectantly at Leo. "Great job, bud. Take a rest for now, we'll try again later," he told the Quilava, whose tongue lolled out the side of his mouth as he flopped on the ground once more.

"Well, I'd call that a successful last training session. Shame that your Quilava is really the only one you can train," Karen lamented. Leo shrugged. Diana could train, but…she still needed a lot of fundamentals built up. Don't get him wrong, she'd done fantastic during the gym battle, but she also hadn't actually had to do much there besides stand there. She still needed some basic fighting techniques, to learn to obey and understand commands better, battle experience, strategy…well, less of that last one because that was Leo's job, but that was beside the point. Leo wanted to get her fundamentals down before he tried teaching her a bunch of new moves. That, combined with Santiago's unwillingness to just train, left Zuko as the only one who could train conventionally.

The results were showing, of course, but it was a gradual thing.

"Where are you going, again?" Leo asked.

"Ice Path. The Sneasel in the area have been unusually aggressive these past few months, and the Rangers are calling me in to help figure out why they're so agitated. As a dark-type specialist they're hoping I'll have a leg up on the situation," Karen said. "Who knows? Maybe I'll find a sixth teammate there,"

Leo hummed, nodding his head. Wasn't that what Victoria went to do? He mused, but let the thought go, instead looking out over the treetops – illuminated in the early morning sun as they were – towards Ecruteak. The Bell Tower rose high over the city, taller than even the high-rise buildings that had popped up in the downtown area. It'd take a good half-day travel until he reached the city proper, most likely.

"One last thing, Karen," he said suddenly, a thought occurring to him. "I've got one more thing to tell you about Larvitar before you head out,"

"What's that?" she asked, furrowing her brows as she slung her backpack over her shoulder.

"It's about where to find them. I know I said I found my Larvitar in Mt. Moon, but that's an iffy area at best. Hardly saw any sign. You'd have better luck finding one in the Silver Mountains. If you follow the river west from Viridian City, after about a month's walk you'll come to a destroyed mountain – a Tyranitar's nest. It's much more dangerous; Tyrus, Champion Archibald Oak's old Tyranitar, lives there. But it's absolutely certain there are Larvitar in the area," Leo said quickly.

"How do you know this?" she asked suspiciously.

"When I was ten I was…essentially abandoned in the Silver Mountains. Survived six months there, and ran into Tyrus," Leo said. "But he's reasonable, so long as you're respectful. More so than your average Tyranitar, from what I've gathered," Karen searched his face for a moment, looking for…something, and then shrugged.

"I'll keep it in mind. Don't really have a desire to mess around with a Champion-level Tyranitar, but it's something to remember for when I become an Elite," she said with a cheeky grin. Leo smiled back, nodding at her decision. Probably smart. Certainly smarter than his own decision regarding getting a Larvitar. "I am going to head out now, though. See you around. Keep up the training, and if you need something don't call me," she said with a teasing grin. Leo scoffed. She'd given him her pokegear number during their time together – which meant Leo could send messages to her over pokémon center video phone, as he didn't have an official phone yet – so, and he quotes, "you can call when you gets into trouble, or find a dark type you don't want."

"Never crossed my mind, I assure you," he fired back. She laughed at him and ruffled his hair – what was it with people and doing that?! – turning on her heel and traipsing off in the direction of the Ice Path. Leo watched her go for a moment and sighed, looking back towards Ecruteak as Zuko curled around his feet with a whine. Pidgey and Spearow flitted about in the early morning sun, crowing their displeasure to the world, while a small flock of Murkrow cawed in the distance.

Despite their time being short, Leo had enjoyed the company of Karen. She was a sweet kid, and travelling together was just…different, new and exciting compared to travelling alone. Now he understood why Ash always travelled with people during the anime. Besides, he'd enjoyed teaching her about tracking – and enjoyed her own lessons about training.

Maybe I should find a permanent travel partner. Leo mused as he headed towards Ecruteak. Then he snorted to himself, recalling Zuko when he noticed him lagging behind. Ah, well. I enjoy being alone too. We'll see how it goes.

Leo left the Ecruteak City Gym thoroughly disappointed. After checking into the pokémon center, getting his team all healed up, and heading to the gym he'd tried to schedule a test for the day. Unfortunately the gym was all booked up through the next five days, which left Leo with an inordinate amount of time to spend in Ecruteak. He'd wanted to get his gym badge before taking on Froslass' request, just in case it turned out to be something big – not that he thought it would, he hadn't heard of any "lost artifacts" from the Burned Tower that matched the cube's description during his search – but it looked like he should start that sooner than later. Maybe he should train for his gym test and subsequent battle, but that didn't sound like an appealing way to spend the next five days. He wanted to get a bit of training in, sure, but he also wanted his team rested and in peak condition for it too.

Which is where he stood now, standing on the corner of the street in front of the Gym, looking up at the mid-afternoon sun and trying to figure out what to do. A growl from his stomach made the decision for him.

"Right. Lunch, and then the Tower," Leo murmured, looking around for a place to eat.

He'd thought Violet was big, but Ecruteak was another beast entirely. The multitudes of traditional-Japanese-style buildings that lined the roads were covered in ornate designs and splashes of intense color, paper lanterns hanging over the streets unlit. Hordes of people streamed down the street, dressed in various attire – from classic business suits to refined kimonos, and the casual clothes Leo was used to seeing from Kanto. It was far busier than Violet, and Leo wandered through the streets until his nose led him to a ramen street stall – the smell so enticing that he had no choice but to sit down in the little booth thing and order some food.

Johto style ramen – real ramen, not those nasty little freeze-dried packets that he'd had a few times back on Earth – was absolutely fantastic. The noodles were thick and cooked to perfection, the broth was tasty, yet not overpowering, and the meats and veggies piled high on top had him drooling even before the bowl was set in front of him. He ate it in record time, marveling at the taste and debating ordering seconds. The kindly man at the counter just laughed at his expression, obviously pleased at Leo's enthusiasm, and sent Leo on his way with a pat on the back and directions to the Burned Tower.

For some reason, though, Leo couldn't focus on that. He kept getting caught up in the culture of the city, viewing and wandering into the little tourist-trap shops and mom-and-pop stores that sold all kinds of knick-knacks and cool items. From traditional Johtoan sculptures and pottery – still handmade, to this day! – to small little dessert shops that sold ice cream, dango, and mochi, Leo found the day swiftly turning to night as he explored the city. He didn't buy anything, though, because souvenirs take up space and cost money. He was building a list of things he'd have to come back and buy once he had a more stable life style and source of income, though.

The people were all too happy to entertain Leo as well, viewing him as a bright-eyed, excitable kid. Which, in this moment, he was. There were too many cool things here for him to not be. Like when he walked into one shop that sold talismans to ward off ghosts, only to find that the two Noctowl sculptures he thought had been sculptures turned out to be live Noctowl. That had been freaking scary, when one glided over to land on the counter and hooted at him. Leo had thought the old man behind the counter was going to give himself an aneurism he was laughing so hard.

Eventually, though, with the night sky over head and the dim lights of the outskirts of the city surrounding him, Leo found his way to the Burned Tower, not but five hundred feet away from the towering Bell Tower in all its gold-and-red painted glory. A somber silence fell over Leo as he stared at the remains of the tower, the ancient wood still blackened from the fires that had ravaged it. Only two stories still stood above ground, blackened wood rising into the air – tattered windows and doorways allowing a glimpse into the dark interior.

He stood there, at the base of the stone steps leading up to the memorialized tower, just staring at it for while. There were no fences, no guards, nothing protecting the tower from wayward wanderers, but for some reason Leo felt that it wasn't those that kept people away. A frozen hand materialized in the air and placed itself on Leo's head, Froslass cooing softly as she made her presence known. Almost immediately the temperature dropped, and shadows skittered away from the ghost-type.

Gastly, Haunter, and even a Duskull all fled from Froslass' presence, the ghosts peering out from the shadows to stare at Leo and his ghostly companion.

Leo glanced at Froslass, the ghost uncharacteristically quiet as she stared somberly at the burnt tower. He swallowed and felt the stone cube in his pocket, looking back up at the tower for just a moment before striding forward with as much confidence as he could muster.

The ghosts here were mostly harmless – the League would exterminate them if they weren't, especially this close to a major population center – but that didn't mean they weren't incapable of harm. A shudder ran down Leo's spine as he stepped through the threshold of the tower, floorboards creaking and support beams groaning as he stared at the remains of a once magnificent tower. A litwick blinked at him from where it sat atop a tarnished metal candlestick, stuck on the wall with new screws, though it vanished when Froslass floated through a wall and spread her hands wide, witch light dancing through the air around her and illuminating the small entryway.

Though the tower was large, the area where visitors could view the interior was small. Floors had been reinforced with concrete and new beams, and a small metal railing had been installed to keep visitors from tumbling into the three-story deep pit that made up the tower's basement – or at least, what was left of it. On the railing was a small metal plaque that read "Trainers, enter the tower at your own risk." And nothing else. At least I know it's not illegal to enter the tower now. Leo thought, though he wondered why it wasn't more regulated. Considering ghosts can turn incorporeal, and thus dodge pokeballs, I suppose it makes sense that they wouldn't have to. From everything I read, ghosts, like psychics, tend to choose their trainers. He thought, approaching the railing and peering down.

A massive hole was dug into the floor, debris littering what remained of the three rotten and destroyed floors below. Leo thought he saw a Misdreavius floating about, weaving between collapsed beams, but his attention was swiftly caught by Froslass, who cooed softly and floated towards the side, passing straight over the railing and turning to look at Leo expectantly.

"You want me to follow?" Leo asked rhetorically, already moving. Froslass bobbed up and down as Leo slipped under the metal railing, testing his footing before taking a breath and gingerly following Froslass as she guided him further into the tower.

He made sure to be extra careful as he went, testing each foothold and gingerly moving across the beams where flooring was absent, hoping that the ancient wood would hold but not wanting to test his luck. Leo actually considered it a miracle that he got as far as he did without any of the wood breaking beneath his feet, though when he glanced back at the entrance he noticed he hadn't actually moved that far.

"Where are we going?" Leo asked, meeting the eyes of a curious Haunter floating between two beams above him, framed by the night sky. It cracked an evil grin and he raised an eyebrow at it, only for Froslass to scare it off with just a glance. Frost crawled at the wood beneath the frigid ghost, and Leo's breaths came out in white puffs as she floated down a level, between two beams, and looked back up at Leo.

"All the way down?" Leo asked. She nodded, and he hummed. Didn't you find the three legendary dogs down in the basement in Gold and Silver? Is Froslass somehow connected to them? He wondered as he descended, but there were no answers forthcoming. At least, not until he reached the very bottom floor, his hiking boots hitting the concrete with a thud and a puff of dust. Ghosts skittered away from him and Froslass as she floated between some of the debris, pushing towards one side that was totally covered in thick layers of rotten wood and crumbled stone.

"Laaaaasssss," she called softly, scratching at the wood.

"Behind here?" Leo asked, grabbing at some of the smaller pieces and pulling them away. She nodded and helped him, doing what little she could to clear a path through the rubble.

For a moment they worked in silence, hauling small and large beams off of the wall. Sweat dripped down Leo's brow, panting with exertion until finally, finally, a section of the dark, almost black concrete wall was revealed. More specifically, a small slot in the wall, filled with dirt and ash and what-have-you, that was almost perfectly square in shape. Froslass paused and stared at it for a long moment, prompting Leo to still, and let out a long, slow whine.

She looked at him sadly, and motioned towards the hole.

"One sec," Leo said, struggling with his breath and releasing Santiago. "Bud, use water gun on that hole for me, would you?" he asked, and after a moment's confusion in which Santiago slowly figured out there was nothing to fight, he promptly spat a small jet of water into the hole.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to clear out most of the crud that clogged the hole, the rest coming free with a few insistent tugs from Leo. Pulling the stone cube out of his pocket he glanced at Froslass. She stared at him silently, white skin glimmering in the moonlight and looking inherently beautiful, rather than scary.

"Here goes," Leo muttered, slotting the stone cube into the slot in the wall. In the silence that followed, Leo momentarily relaxed. He had honestly been expecting something to happen – maybe a secret room to open, maybe Froslass to do something, who knows – but there was naught but silence.

Then Froslass moved, floating forward and placing her hands on Leo's cheek, resting her frigid forehead against his own.

"Laaaasss," she called softly, remaining that way for a moment.

"Uh, glad I could help," Leo murmured, feeling wholly out of his depth now. Froslass let go and looked skyward, Leo following her gaze and his stomach suddenly sinking. There, a floor above and staring down at them silently, stood a Ninetails. Its silver, aged fur gleamed as ghostly balls of fire surrounded it, dancing to and fro as ghosts – Litwick, Gastly, and various others of undetermined shape – floated around it, watching the proceedings closely.

Please don't be mad, please don't be mad, please don't be mad, Leo prayed silently, almost missing the way Froslass bowed her head and floated towards the wall.

"Hey, what -" Leo began, but cut himself off when Froslass pressed one hand on the cube, and something shifted. Lines of blue light, the same color as Froslass' witch light, burned themselves into stone as they ran down the basement walls, radiating out from the stone cube. Ghosts wailed and Froslass shrieked, a fierce, ominous wind kicking up and painting the world in purple light. Santiago whined and hunkered down, dust whipping through the air and stinging Leo's skin.

The Ninetails acted then, tails spreading out into a wide fan and curling forward, the tip of each alight with red and blue fire. The air around it shimmered in a haze of heat, the ghostly lines carving themselves into the floor finally completing their circuit around the basement walls and floor, forming a massive circle that burned bright even beneath the rubble.

Panic, confusion, the desire to flee, the need to recall Santiago…Leo didn't even have time to feel, much less process these emotions and desires it all happened so fast. And for a moment Leo genuinely feared that he had done something terrible, unleashed some unholy horror onto the land. But that moment passed, and was replaced by utter shock and a primal fear as Froslass turned to him, lines of blue light etched all across her skin as she smiled sadly at him.

"Help them. Help us. Please," she said slowly, the words pouring from her mouth in a wave, layered dozens of times on top of each other to the point where it sounded as if a hundred people were all chanting at once. Leo clenched his fists and grit his teeth, hands shaking but unable to move as an intense pressure placed itself on his shoulders. But he stood in front of Articuno, the Living Winter itself – this pressure was not as strong in comparison.

"How?" Leo managed to get out through grit teeth, one shaking hand reaching for Santiago's pokeball in an attempt to recall the Slowpoke. Black wisps like living shadows misted out of the cracks surrounding the stone cube. Froslass just smiled, this time serene, and allowed herself to be sucked into the cube, her body dissolving as it was absorbed by the stone.

Power exploded out from the wall, lines of pitch-black energy blasting out and crashing into an invisible barrier above, Ninetails howling silently as it strained to keep whatever was coming out contained. A hundred ghostly shrieks filled with rage, pain, and hatred echoed out through the tower floor, flashes of green and black sweeping out in a grand wave that flowed across Leo's skin like sickly, sticky water. The stone cube itself burst from the wall, cracks forming along one side that leaked the purple, black, and green waves of power and energy, and clattered to the floor.

On pure instinct Leo lunged, hands wrapping around the stone just as the pokémon contained within fully formed, bursting forth with an earsplitting wail that sent Leo's heart into overdrive, abject terror trying to worm its way deep into his bones. Eyes of green and black formed in the ectoplasmic body of the ghost, peering deep into his soul. A grin filled with malice formed in the ghost's body and it lunged, flowing through Leo as if he didn't exist, the stone shaking in his hands.

A pressure unlike anything he had ever felt before built up in his body as he resisted the incursion, his heart clenching painfully and a migraine building up in his skull, threatening to break him. It was then, in the midst of this painful resistance, trying to keep this ghost out, that a soft voice echoed in his mind, far clearer than any psychic he had ever met.

Relax. The tree that breaks is the one that does not bend. It whispered, soft and melodious, cutting through the ghost's influence like a ray of sunlight on a rainy day. Leo struggled with that concept for a few moments, then found it in himself to relax and allow the pressure to sweep him away. And his mind went dark.

The darkness that surrounded Leo when his mind became aware again was not something as mundane as darkness of night – no, it was the blackness of pain, sorrow, and all encompassing sadness. It was the darkness that suffused the soul in the darkest of hours, and Leo found himself drifting through its currents while a hundred or more voices screamed their troubles at him in a language without words.

The emotions slammed into him with all the force of a battering ram, his own emotions surging into righteous fury. Anger bubbling within him, ready to explode as all his own misfortunes played before his eyes – he had lost his entire world. Everything he had, had been, and would have been; stripped away with nary an explanation and tossed to the wind, only for him to be left in the middle of the wild where he was more likely to die than survive. How dare the pokémon gods do this to him? How dare they?

NO. Leo's mind burned with sudden force of will, the anger and hatred he felt stumbling to a screeching halt. He had lost everything, yes, but in the process had gained another opportunity. Discovering what that was, was a joy in and of itself. His anger began to cool, from burning magma to the crackling of a flame. He had been left in the wild, yes, but would he trade his experiences there for anything? The honest truth was that no, he wouldn't. It had been a wonderous experience, despite the perils. The crackling flames of rage flickered and sputtered. The gods abandoned him? Leo thought about his good fortune – meeting Slowking, earning Professor Oak's favor, Victoria's teachings…he could chalk it up to luck, but perhaps there was another hand at play here. Besides, he didn't want divine intervention. Life was about the struggle, in his mind.

The flames of anger fully died then, leaving behind naught but burning coals – coals that sat in his gut and filled him with passion and drive. A drive he had just proven he still had, by finding Diana.

And in the silence that followed he remembered something he had forgotten, as much as it had been sealed away. He remembered a space far darker than this, the space between worlds where the Void stretched between universes. He remembered the all-consuming vacuum that threatened to rip apart his very soul, that very nearly did wipe him out of existence, and he remembered stretching himself thin to aid the soul that travelled with him, preventing it from falling to pieces as well. He remembered the Bright Being finding them, protecting them from the vacuum (as Leo could not have held on much longer,) and ushering him into the Space after recreating his body, where the Night Bat found them and deposited them here, in this world.

He remembered that travelling across worlds was not an easy task, especially an accidental slip through an inter-dimensional tear as his and Jack's had been, travelling from Earth to Poke-Earth. And he recalled these memories being sealed, until he was ready to see them again. They were…traumatic, in a way. Had he not grown, and experienced the Pressure on his soul once more in the form of Articuno – though this time much weaker than it had been between worlds, the memories might have consumed him. Even now he could feel that not everything was clear, only vague recollections.

Leo relaxed his mind and opened his "eyes," staring straight into the darkness. This was not the physical world, he felt, but a space between spaces. A space in which emotion and the mind were made manifest, a space the ghostly aberration, who had not ceased its wails, had brought him to.

Dozens of shapes flitted about in the darkness, half-formed spirits that thrashed and writhed, bound together by chains of a sickly green hue. He observed them for a moment, listening to their stories, before a familiar shape materialized before him. Froslass, with the face of the woman frozen on the mountain, floated before him. A question presented itself to Leo, one formed without words – because what use was language in the world of emotion and minds? – and he smiled, standing up.

Will you help us? She asked. Leo just smiled once more, and stepped forth into the maelstrom of spirits without hesitation or fear.

One hundred and seven voices howled at him of injustice, how they had not asked to be bound together this way. How the one to have bound their spirits here had tortured them, caused them great pain and sorrow, just to make a single creation.

Leo apologized and stretched out a metaphysical hand, offering it to them and offering to help in any way he could, if they would just accept it.

One hundred and seven spirits recoiled, hissing of lies and shrieking that humans would betray them again. They had trusted the Scholar, who sought to create ghosts. He did create a ghost, a powerful ghost, despite it being stalled and sealed away by the Burning of the Tower, and they would not trust again.

Leo reminded them that this was a place where lies could not be told – where the mouth could deceive, the mind could speak only truths, or lie so poorly all would know it was false. It was a lesson he had learned intimately in his conversations with Merri, Oak's Alakazam. The mind, despite its power, struggled to hold up a lie when stripped from the body. So it was with confidence he told them he was here to help, if they so wished.

One hundred and seven spirits – more vague memories and half-formed ghost pokémon than true spirits – hesitated, and searched for more ways to deny Leo.

Leo assured them. I want to help. But you must let me. Just as you cannot force your will unto me, I cannot force my will unto you.

One voice questioned him how he would help, a hundred and six responded no.

Leo stretched his hand to the side, touching Froslass' shoulder from where she floated beside him. He would help them the same way he helped her – by getting them to let go of their hatred, their anger, their fear and regret. But it would not be as simple for them as it was for her. It would take time.

One hundred and six voices screeched and raged and writhed, bearing down on Leo with all the force of a vengeful storm. Ghostly claws whipped past him, seeking purchase against his soul, to do him harm, but found that they could do none. Here, they had no power against him. Their claws barely touched him, sliding against the representation of his soul and mind without harm. In the physical world they could kill, but here? In this…mind scape? He was the master of his soul, not them. And he had survived worse.

But, to his pleasant surprise, one spirit stepped out of the raging crowd and stood before him. It materialized slowly, coming to form an image of a warrior dressed in traditional samurai armor and a blank, featureless face. Leo extended his hand and the warrior, dropping his sword, took it.

One hundred and six voices yelled in anger and righteous injustice, but two voices, Froslass and the unnamed warrior, replied that they were tired of the struggle. What had been done to them was downright unforgivable, but the ones who had done this to them had died long ago, either killed by time or by the blaze the woman who had become Froslass had set in the tower. She had tried to right their wrong by destroying everything, and succeeded only in preventing the hundred and eighth spirit, her spirit, from being added to the pile. Now, she sought aid from Leo.

One hundred and five voices yelled back this time, and once more Leo offered what help he could. He could not promise revenge or justice. The time for that had passed. But he may help them find their peace, whatever that may be.

One hundred and five voices howled, and Leo repeated himself, with little variation.

One hundred and four voices screeched, and four fought back. Leo remained steadfast, and listened to their stories.

One hundred and three voices….

One hundred voices…

Ninety-four…

Eighty-two…

Eighty….

Leo wasn't sure how much time passed in the realm of spirit and emotions, but he did slowly start to become aware of his body's surroundings as he did his utmost to soothe the rage of the spirits. When only forty voices of the one hundred and eight fought back against his aid, he became aware of Ninetails' barrier, still going strong high above him and burning with a light that stretched into this world of the mind.

When only twenty remained, he became aware of the ball of burning mind energy in his pocket, the Slowking Longinus' gem providing just enough energy and focus to aid his mind in resisting the onslaught of the spirits' rage.

When seven still resisted, Leo could feel Santiago's psychic powers pressing against his mind, the Slowpoke tired but still awake, intent on ensuring his friend-parent-teacher-comrade's safety from the danger-hate-evil-ghost. A surge of gratitude swelled in Leo's chest at the feeling, but he couldn't focus on it.

Not until the last of the spirits finally assented to Leo's help with a grumble and a promise of retribution if he went back on his word, and one hundred and eight "spirits," "ghosts," or "collection of memories," (Leo wasn't sure what they actually were at this point, but he was certain they, with the exception of what had once been Froslass, were not souls nor fully-formed ghost pokémon), stood before him in that mind scape, waiting with barely concealed rage.

Thank you for trusting me this much. I will do what I can to set you free, he promised, and, with a final shriek of anger, the spirits withdrew. Leo basked in the emptiness of the mindscape for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being alone – just him in the rawest, truest form of himself, stripped of all unnecessary thought – but knowing he couldn't stay for long.

And when he let go of that state of mind, the world came crashing back down around him.

When Leo opened his eyes, he was greeted by the orange sky of dawn, and a cool, crisp air that felt pleasant on his sweat-slicked, bare arms. Ninetails stared down at him from above, haggard and tired looking, but an expression of pleased gratitude on its face all the same. Or, at least what could pass as such on a fox face. Leo sucked in a deep breath, filling his lungs with oxygen for what felt like the first time in hours, and glanced down at himself.

He sat cross-legged, hands cupped a just in front of his chest, with the cracked stone cube floating a solid inch above his palms, suffused in a blue glow. So great was Leo's surprise at this sight that he promptly fell two inches from where he had been levitating to the ground, the stone falling into his palm.

Had I been…levitating? He wondered incredulously, unfolding his legs and shifting so the piece of rotten wood he had landed on was no longer digging into his thigh.

"Sloooow," a soft voice called, a familiar pink head butting into Leo's side and nearly bowling him over. Leo laughed and wrapped both arms around Santiago's head, the slowpoke blinking up at him, his eyes tired and red from staying up all night long.

"Thank you, bud. There's no one else I would've preferred to have watch over me. Rest for now," Leo murmured, scratching Santiago's ears and recalling him into his pokeball. He didn't make a too much of a fuss, not even flinching away as Leo recalled him.

With a groan Leo stood, his joints popping and back aching from staying in one position for too long. He felt…good. Like a weight had been lifted from his mind, despite the metaphorical weight now pressing down on his shoulders from accepting to help a Spiritomb with its issues. Because now that he was aware, he realized that's all the ghost could be – a Spiritomb, an amalgamation of over a hundred spirits according to the lore. A little warning from Froslass that this was what I was walking into would've been nice. He mused, and a hiss from the stone he still held reminded Leo that he wasn't quite alone.

"Hush, you. You've caused enough trouble for me for one day," he murmured, flicking the cube. It hissed again but fell silent, none of the purple and green power visible on its surface. Spiritomb would be quiet…for now. "Why do I get myself into these kinds of situations? First Slowking asks me to do something for him, then Froslass, who turns into a freaking Spiritomb. I just…I need a nap," Leo declared, glancing up at where Ninetails had been, only to see it was now gone.

A yawn forced its way from Leo's lips as he pocketed Spiritomb's keystone and began his climb up and out of the tower. Now that it was day, and Spiritomb was by his side, he got the feeling that none of the ghostly inhabitants would give him much trouble.

Now I'll need answers. Mostly on what in God's name a Spiritomb is, because it's confusing me, how they're created, and why there was an incomplete one in the bottom of the Burned Tower. Froslass completed it by fusing with it, essentially freeing the spirits and forming Spiritomb at the same time but not all the spirits are the same…though they had technically been Spiritomb before then, if I'm remembering their stories right? Gah, this is so confusing.

"I'll need to contact Professor Oak, and Victoria. Keep this a secret as long as I can, though Morty might be another good resource. Falkner was perfectly reasonable, and I'm pretty sure Morty's family are essentially Ecruteak nobles, stretching back two hundred years. I'll consult Oak about it," Leo reasoned aloud, hauling himself up a plank of wood. He glanced at his hands as he did so, and frowned. Then he stretched his hand out, focused on a small piece of rubble, and tried to make it float like the cube had been.

Nothing happened.

"That, and find out why the cube was floating," Leo muttered suspiciously. Was he psychic? That would be awesome, it'd be like using the Force. Probably. Maybe. Another yawn escaped Leo, his adrenaline fading and exhaustion settling in. But again, first, I sleep.