Two weeks passed since the actions at Flamehollow. Skal kept George and Blitzer busy in the countryside, helping them break up dungeons and chasing Soldiers out of their comfort zones. Over time, they got used to their surroundings, not just the dim and messy hideout, but the city as well.

Not that they could see much of Rustborough in the first place: Nowhere else were there as many soldiers. One on every street corner, regular patrols in the streets, winged sentinels watching from above, not to mention the risk of spectral activity. Nevertheless, living among the enemy was an art in and of itself. Mere errands offered valuable lessons from the comfort of a tall cloak.

Of course, that was a footnote compared to their true goals. All the raids and attacks were done to win trust. And trust they did seem to win… even with danger hot on their heels. There was never any time to stick around and celebrate. Someone would always come knocking, and they’d bring a bunch of their friends along for the moment. Evidently, whoever was up top was keeping an eye on their activities.

It was early in the morning on a cold day. Still dark outside, with the wind speeding through town like it was rushing to work. Blitzer and the rest were still asleep. George wasn’t, and had to pretend to daydream. Something which turned out a little easier than he thought after sometime staring at the ceiling.

Hello, George.

George’s eyes twitched. ‘Is it that time again? And don’t you normally contact me when I’m asleep?’

Most of the time, yes. But that is not a requirement. It simply works out better that way. No need to make others around you think something has gotten into you, is there?

‘Right… first things first. Be honest with me for once. Are you the same as whatever creature that was back in the basement? Who killed the Typhlosion while I was out? With the creepy red eyes?’

Hm? How odd. I have never heard of this before, George. But do enlighten me.

The Oshawott sighed, then pulled some of the straws over his mouth. ‘Riiight… I was doing a test. A surprise attack happened. A large Typhlosion knocked me out. Then me and it were in the middle of nowhere while this creepy red eyed… monster, whatever it was killed it without breaking a sweat. Then he laughed about the whole thing with me. I didn’t think it was funny, he acted all offended, but didn’t do anything to me afterwards. The whole thing was creepy and plain strange.’

You could say that again, the voice replied. Most odd… I must investigate this myself. See if anyone else has been able to establish contact with you… but I digress. Let’s talk about you a little, shall we?

‘What is there to talk about? Sure, I’ve completed training. I’m in the Ruby Province now… and we’re working to get the piece of the Azure Flute, if that’s what you’re wondering…’

Ah yes, very good. How very fitting, isn’t it? The flute which your impact on the world started with also marks the span of your journey. How poetic.

George’s eyes narrowed. ‘...Poetic? What? Why do you care so much about this silly flute, anyway?’

It is a very important artefact, George. But do not fret. You will see for yourself what it is capable of when the time is right. When all will be set right at last. When the usurper Queen is brought to justice by it. Isn’t that correct? Isn’t that what your faction’s goal is?

‘My faction? Well, they don’t want to kill me… if that’s what counts as my faction, then sure, I guess they are. But I’m just trying to figure out what my purpose here is still. And no, that’s not something someone else has decided. I need to figure that out myself… I think.’

The voice chuckled. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough. You’re a bright kid, you know. But I digress… it is time for me to go again. Good luck!

Just as the voice came, it faded back into nothingness. George blew air out through his nose, then rolled over on his bed. A jolt went right up his hip when his weight pressed down on it, right into his foot and other hip. Instantly he hissed, rolling back onto his back as he caressed his now aching hip with a hand. He groaned under his breath as he tried sitting upright, once again wincing through the pain.

“Mrhmpf!” ‘Some way to wake up!... I’m still tired.’

His eyes feeling as if they were covered in centuries old cobweb, George struggled onto his feet. While brushing stale straws out of his fur, one thing came to mind.

‘It’s cold.’

With a big frown, he got to washing his face, then tried looking for something to eat. There wasn’t anything. Or rather, he wouldn’t know where to look if there was. Because food in the safe house was prepared for him. It wasn’t sleeping in his own room in the base where he’d got to buy what he wanted, no. Dependent once again. Not his own decisions in his own little place with Blitzer. Blink and you’d miss it. He blinked.

“Uurgh…”

Later that morning, after catching fifteen minutes of sleep and going through the motions of waking up, George dragged himself to a briefing with Venusa. Blitzer was there, astute and energetic as ever. Skal appeared like he’d been doing this for well over a decade. Probably because he was. Not the best time to be looking like the Oshawott equivalent of a homeless bum.

“Crikey… ‘s going on with the Othersider kid?”

“Wha…?” ‘Don’t feel any different, minus all the sleep I missed.’

“George?” Blitzer leaned over his head. George looked up. One hot breath later, the Charmeleon leaned right the other way. “Wh-whoa, okay. Don’t you always wash your face in the mornings?”

George scratched himself behind the ear. “Yes, and I did just that.”

“More like a splash,” Skal joked. “‘S like ye got into a fight outside, kid. Someone face planted ya right into yer milk and grains. Yer face’s all soggy.”

A now irate George poked at his puffy cheeks. They were indeed wet. “So what? That’s not milk, that’s water! I said I washed my face!”

“Then why does yer face smell like milk? Ya reek of it from here!”

“No I don’t… I washed it.”

“I uh…” Blitzer swallowed. “I have to agree with him, George. No offense, but that does… smell like it uh… came right from the Miltank. And you were pretty fast with breakfast too, so…”

“Aaalright, think that’s enough of that. Go comment on his new milky musk later,” Venusa said, fluffing her flowery hat about. With how red George was getting, she must’ve gotten the memo to leave it. He wasn’t complaining. “So then! Ye’ve all been at it for a while now. How’s things?”

“Going great!” Blitzer swung his tail around. “Well, as great as great can be for us. None of those stupid Soldiers have gotten close to countering us now, and we’ve been dealing some damage. Just what I signed up for! They’ll start spitting out where my parents are any day now if I get notorious enough.”

Venusa gestured for him to calm down. “Oi, easy now. Don’t want to go around becoming notorious. If anything, that makes doing your job harder, yeah? If they see you comin’, they know how to prepare for ya. Ain’t no surprise at that point anymore, and there ain’t no way they’ll spit out a word about yer parents in that case. And there ain’t no coming out of being notorious ‘cept in a jail cell.”

“Oi,” Skal growled. “Let ‘im have his fun, yeah? ‘S important. Ain’t no comin’ back from low morale much, either.”

“Oh yes,” was Venusa’s response; deadpan and more of a formality. “Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves here. Don’t want to see any of ye in prison when the festival happens. We need you for that, y’know. Which brings me to the matter at hand. The Festival of the Seven Crops. Ye all know about it, don’tcha?”

“Sure do!” Blitzer responded in the blink of an eye, foot forward and eyes sharp. George timidly lowered his finger. “I went and looked into it. And besides, there've been plenty of people who’ve talked all about it on the way here. It’s the talk of the town! Everyone’s excited for it.”

Venusa chuckled. “Sounds like ye got the whole Ruby Province in the back of yer head already, kid. And you? Our milky Othersider friend? How’s yer mind on it?”

“Uh… well, there’s… it’s a festival, for starters. Everyone talks about it, and…” George slapped himself in the face. ‘Why am I pulling a blank now of all times? This is the worst thing to forget about, ugh.’ “No. I don’t know. It’s a festival, I guess.” ‘Very culturally sensitive.’

Skal and Venusa both laughed at his expense, before Venusa once again reigned everyone in. This time, it was more because of staying quiet than any sympathy for George.

“Well, ain’t no better time to learn then now, kid,” Venusa began. “This ain’t just ‘a festival’ like any other silly festival they hold elsewhere in Eravate, no. The Festival of the Seven Crops is when all Rubyfolk get together and celebrate the Weather Gods! Thundurus, Landorus, Tornadus, and let’s not forget about Enamorus! They’re why us Rubyfolk have got a society to begin with! They blessed the land long ago to grow crops, and ‘cause of that, we Pokemon managed to evolve beyond our primal instincts. Look around ye. Species who’d normally prey on each other are drinking and dining together, befriended forever. And that deserves celebratin’!”

The Lilligant reached into a drawer with a vine, then pulled out a large sheet of parchment. A list with all the traditions on it. ‘Why did she need any list for that at all?’ George clicked his tongue. He could only begin to wonder why.

“Lessee here… sorry, my memory ain’t the best anymore these days, and nobody wants to ruin that which they love, don’t they?” Venusa laughed it away. “This right here is a flyer with just a taste of the festivities! There are plenty of wonderful dishes that make use of the Seven Crops, as ye’d expect of course. Then there’s the fun games, such as apple bobbing, and a variety of activities for Pokemon of all shapes and sizes! Honestly, we could be here for hours if I listed everything.”

George’s brow furrowed at the idea. ‘Please don’t.’ he thought to himself. With the way Blitzer was grimacing, he assumed they were of equal mind.

“But I won’t, ‘cause that’s not what yer here for, after all. And it ain’t so impor…tant…” Venusa bobbed up and down, as if she were standing on a spring. “Oh. Oh! One exception actually. My favorite part of the whole event! The dances!”

The furrow in George’s brow grew ever deeper. “The… dances?” ‘Why is that important…’

“Uh, do you mean dances as in a rain dance? For the harvest?” Blitzer asked, twiddling his claws around. Venusa shook her head.

“Nope, but ‘tis a fair guess. They’re dances with the locals of your age… ‘specially for those of ya who haven’t found someone yet! Ye should swing on by and participate when our work’s done, y’know! Yer both at the age where ye’d like to meet a nice lady, right?”

“N-nice lady?!” Blitzer stammered. “N-no! I’m not old enough for that!”

“...I guess?” George’s ears went flat against his head. ‘Come on now, she can’t actually believe I’ll… find love when I’m small like this. I’m not even a Pokemon, how awkward can this get? Would any girls like me like… that? Argh.’

Skal chuckled as he got in between the two. “Aw, no sweat ‘ere. Got plenty of time left to find someone, I wouldn’t worry much about it if I were ye! ‘Specially you! Lemme tell ya, I doubt bein’ the Othersider’s gonna hurt yer chances, if ye know what I mean!” He patted Blitzer on the back, and gave George a tussle on his head. George bit his lip.

“Can you not? Please.”

The Aggron removed his claw. “‘Course, sorry ‘bout that. But Venusa, it ain’t about that quite yet, ain’t it?”

Venusa put her leafy hands together. “Of course not! No, this… is a bit more dire,” she said, the tone of her voice suddenly a lot weaker. She sounded as if she were reminiscing.

“What is it?” Blitzer asked.

The Lilligant turned her head away. “The festival is supposed to be for all Rubyfolk, but the Crest… has been wrecking things. Every year, Rustborough pulls in a lot of taxes from crops and anything else in the countryside. It’s affected the festival out there, in the towns and villages. Only Rustborough has been celebrating it like it should be, but even there it’s got issues now. The Crest keeps such an eye on things that the joy is just… gone.”

She now turned away from the others, hiding her face in the progress. “It breaks my heart. It really does.”

“Oh…” Blitzer looked away. “I’m so sorry to hear that,” he mused, before putting his foot down on the floorboards. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? That’s why you called us here this morning. I know how it feels. We’ll do whatever we can to bring the joy back.”

Venusa managed a weak smile. “Thank ye… that’s what I want ye to do, yes. And that’s what all Rubyfolk want ye to do too. We want our tradition back. Our lives back. Our hope back.” She shook her head. ”Sorry if that’s all a lil’ cliché. I make it sound like a cliché fairy story, but that’s just the way we all feel.”

“Nonono,” said George while shaking his head. “I understand you. If that’s all the truth, I mean. I’ve had to deal with similar mistreatment in the past myself. Before, well, before I woke up as a Pokemon, I grew up in a foster’s home. Didn’t have any friends, only enemies. The people who ran the foster’s home treated me like I was less than garbage.” He paused to sigh, his eyes dawdling to the floor as memories of being punched and kicked flooded back. The others standing all around, kicking along and cheering along…

Blitzer managed to pull him back out of the quagmire with a firm tug on his arm. The Charmeleon gave George a smile that everything was going to turn out okay. George nodded back. He appreciated the gesture, no matter how recent the events still were.

Seeing this, Skal followed in Blitzer’s footsteps, grabbing George’s other arm, albeit with a far tamer grip. “Aye, kiddo… if that’s the truth, then yeh. Ye understand us pretty well. Ain’t no one gonna save us from this but ourselves. We gotta have the power to set things right.” A smug grin appeared on his face. “Good thing we got just that though, heheh… Even Groudon can be toppled if ye put yer head to it. And we’re doin’ just that.”

“By fighting against the Crest, you mean,” George asked. ‘What’s with the weird ramble about having power, anyway. Isn’t that a given?’

“Oh yeh, by fightin’ the Crest, ‘aight,” Skal laughed. “Right, Venusa?”

“Of course!” the Liligant answered. “We’re fightin’ to save ourselves, at the end of the day. And guess what? That’s our whole plan here, too. We’re gonna make sure that everyone here in the Ruby Province can enjoy the festival, taxes and other Crest nonsense be damned. By chasin’ em away and by clearin’ up the dungeons, we’ll win support. And that means we’ll have the piece of the Azure Flute that’s kept in the Ruby Province. One step closer to beatin’ the Crest for good!”

Skal palmed his fist, while Blitzer cheered on the idea. George, on the other hand, could only rub his own cheek at it.

‘Win over support by saving a festival, huh? That’s a stretch. We’ve been here for just a few weeks, anyone else could’ve done what we did in that time… guess they’ve been at this for a while, huh.’

While George contemplated, the conversation moved on regardless of his input. “Where are we starting?” Blitzer asked.

“Anywhere in the countryside, kiddo,” Skal said. “‘s far as I’m concerned, any place is a good start. We’re one big family out here, remember. Word of good deeds spreads damn fast.”

Venusa nodded. “Indeed. Anywhere is good, but generally speaking… best bet is to start up north from Rustborough. Close to the temple carryin’ our piece. Between the four of us? They probably got the most input on who gets to touch it.”

The Aggron in the room laughed. “Very true!”

“Got it,” Blitzer said. “Do you have any idea where Porov is? He’s from the Ruby Province as well, and I don’t want to leave him out of this.”

The metal mentor and the grassling in charge traded knowing looks with each other, before simultaneously bending over Blitzer’s head. Blitzer blushed in an instant. The awkwardness of it all was palpable.

“Pfft, kid. Ye think we’re leavin’ him outta this?” Skal asked.

“Uh, y-you haven’t told us much about him-”

“Oh, he’s out there alright. In fact, he’s already out there right now doin’ the work! Beatin’ up Soldiers and givin’ to the people like he’s one of those noble Thievul!”

Blitzer’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

“Surprise!” Venusa spread her arms. “Ye’ll find him soon enough once you get out there yourself! In fact, we’re probably gonna make you do hits together if it lines up. Porov requested ye to help him, y’know! Hope ye know how to be a good Thievul, as they say!” She giggled. George tilted his head.

‘Oh, so like Robin Hood.’

Blitzer let out a long and drawn out “Whaaat?!” in response. Any questions he’d left lingering in his mind were most likely stuck there now. He was everything from shocked, to flattered, to excited. It’d be difficult to get any answers out of him now: Even a hit to the face wouldn’t get much more than a few embers out of him.

Fortunately, George was still paying attention, and he put his hand up as if they were standing in a classroom. Upon noticing this, Venusa leaned over to him, patting his hand down with one of her leafy hands.

“What’s with the hand, eh? Ye got a question for us?”

“That- Yes. Yes I do.” George bit his tongue. ‘Got a real knack for getting into awkward situations, don’t I.’

“Well, don’t just keep it to yourself! Say it!” Venusa said, arms spread wide. George tapped his foot to try and distract himself a little. Alas, ignoring an Aggron’s mocking grin was a bit much. Especially when said Aggron was standing right next to him.

“Right. So, I’ve been hearing talk about this festival for a while now, and I get that it’s a big deal around these parts. Like you said, we’d be here until sunset if you told us the whole story. But when is it, exactly? That’s a pretty important detail.”

Nodding along to the question, Venusa tapped Skal on one of his shoulder spikes. “About five weeks, right?”

“Yeh, five weeks,” Skal growled. “Five weeks exact, actually.”

George folded his arms. “That’s an awful long time to prepare for the festival.”

Skal scoffed at that remark. “Pfft. Ye got any idea how ye harvest all the stuff needed? It ain’t just called the Festival of the Seven Crops for a reason, kiddo.”

“Right…” George’s eyes narrowed. ‘Thanks a lot.’

“Three weeks to do what we gotta do for the festival?” Blitzer asked, rubbing his claws together. “Bring it on. I’m ready for it.”

Venusa rubbed her leafy hands in a similar fashion. “That’s the spirit! Now, we’ve got plenty to do out there. We’ll show ‘em Crest fools what we’re made of out here! Haha!”

After a briefing on the day’s objectives, George and Blitzer were sent out to do their work: In today’s case, it was sabotage around Rustborough. Either they’d support other Pokemon in the Alliance, or perform acts of sabotage.

“Wait- stop! STOP!! THIEVES!!!”

“See you later, sucker!”

By day’s end, Crest supporting vendors across the city were robbed, and were left screaming in the street about stolen goods. Citizens made reports of cloaked Pokemon, Soldiers were left scraping the street for clues, and all the Pokemon grew just that little bit more feral.

By day’s end, between upturned barrels and broken carts, scorched stones or angry vendors ripping out locks of their fur, the town was one big mess. Night fell upon Rustborough, and George and Blitzer fell back into their beds, a job well done.

“Phew… I’m spent.” Blitzer spread his limbs as if he were making an angel in snow. His tail was flat and straight against the ground. “We did a lot today, huh?”

George rubbed his nose with wide, circular motions. “Made a name for ourselves as petty criminals, definitely.”

“Petty criminals?” Blitzer raised his head from the straws. “What are you talking about?”

“Thought it was obvious…” George rolled onto his side. The pain in his hip flared right up, much to his chagrin. “What did we do? Break things, lollygag, steal and help others steal? If that’s not petty criminality, what is?”

Blitzer frowned. “No. The Crest are the real criminals here. I don’t see what’s so bad about doing some damage back,” he said, the flame on his tail glowing a tad brighter.

“Fair enough,” George mused. “Just… wow though. When I was growing up back in my world… I didn’t think I’d ever end up like the thugs I’d dodge on the street. Now look at me. Doing the exact same things, just with a cause in mind.”

“Oh yeah, you grew up around criminals, right?” Blitzer asked. George nodded in response.

“Sure did.”

“And, what were they like?”

“They just did it for themselves. Nothing more than that.” George sighed. “People care for each other here, I guess, but…” He ran a hand through the fur on his hip, pinching the skin underneath. The pain dulled. “There’s something about everyone’s overly friendly nature that feels fake. Maybe that’s just how I grew up, but it doesn’t feel right.”

Blitzer shrugged. “Real enough to me. Then again, that’s just how everyone back in the village was looking from afar. Didn’t get invited to any fun activities they’d do together. I was always the weirdo.”

“So you believe the people here then, huh?” asked George, though the answer was obvious enough.

“Of course I do. If you ask me, humans are just colder than we Pokemon are.” The Charmeleon took off his scarf, and placed it in between their beds. “Back home, me being a fire type was enough to make people dislike me. At first I thought they were just plain mean for whatever reason, but I’ve had time to think about this. They’re so cold, because I was warm. And you know what? Maybe you were really warm too, George. And so they were cold to you. To balance things, I guess. It’s a dumb theory, I know, but I believe in it.”

With another sigh, George got up, took off his own scarf, and placed it atop Blitzer’s. “I guess so. It’s not like I would know any better. I’ve been around for a good thirteen years now, soon to be fourteen. Where did all that awfulness in my life come from? I still don’t know the answer to that. Why all the other kids hated me. And why the headmistress. Even my own parents.”

The Oshawott folded his arms, then sat back down. “But you know what? I won’t ever get the answer. Because that life is as good as over now. It’s all the past. Now I have a life I couldn’t even begin to comprehend just a few months ago, but you know what? I accept it. You’re the first real friend I’ve ever had, Blitzer. And I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he said with a smile.

Blitzer broke into a chuckle, before showing a smile of his own.

“C’mere, you.”

They shared a laugh as George jumped into Blitzer’s arms, hugging out their stresses for the day. It was nice to not be alone.