Words did not describe the fear as the echoes reverberated off the walls. The air became as cold as a rainy forest, the ground having turned to mud, every leaf dripping water. No shelter, no safety; nothing. Death had entered the room, his shrill voice causing the hairs on George’s neck to stand upright. The Dewott slowly turned to meet the voice. Of course, death wasn’t who he saw. But the difference was marginal.

“Hein…”

“What are you doing here?!” Blitzer cried, hyperventilating while hiding behind George. Upon catching his breath, he stepped beside the Dewott, claws shaking.

The Dusknoir tilted his antenna backwards, all while keeping a dull yet peaceful gaze trained upon the two. Though George caught most of his attention by far.

“Me? I am only tending to some business. What are you doing here? All alone in the middle of a damp cave.”

George drew his scalchops. “Could ask the same of you, ‘barkeep’. What’s your game? Why have you been stalking us?” he said. Blitzer glanced at him in between shaky breaths. And though the Charmeleon shivered, he raised his claws in anticipation for whatever the Dusknoir was about to throw at them.

Hein raised a hand in a commanding manner. “Call me whatever you wish, it means little. Truth to be told, George, you’re very admirable. You’re one feisty whippersnapper, aren’t you? Barreling headfirst into raids and assaults that… some would call terrorism, all for someone else’s sake. Yet you never question why you do these things. Why are you sticking your neck out?”

“What does it matter to you, anyway?” George retorted. “You’re not with the Alliance. You’re clearly not with the Crest, either…”

“I am with Eravate,” Hein answered. “For a cause which you couldn’t understand. I know you’ve both been caught up in the Alliance’s siren song, alright. What a shame. You don’t even know what truly lurks in their shadows. Not until it’s too late. Not until you’ll look back at this time of your life, and see an ocean of regret stretch out to the horizon…” The ghost’s voice tapered off towards the end.

Blitzer’s eyes and claws twitched. “I-is that a threat?! Are you threatening us, here?!”

“No.”

A red shine flashed through the Dusknoir’s eye, the mouth on his stomach opening partially before closing again.

“This is a warning. Not a ‘threat’. Ever hear of the phrase ‘don’t shoot the messenger’? I am not the one you should be worrying about. I am not opposed to you. I simply wish to make sure neither of you end up digging your graves today… well, I suppose that is not entirely honest. In order to accomplish that goal, I will be needing that crystal over there.”

“Over my dead body,” George growled out.

“G-George?!” Blitzer chirped.

George gritted his teeth. “This is not about living or dying. It’s about sending a message…” ‘It shouldn’t come down to dying, anyway… my life’s worth more than this creepy old son of a...’

Hein’s eye narrowed. “Hm… Over my dead body, you say?” he droned, his voice echoing ominously as he raised a finger and thumb into the shape of a pistol. “I believe you meant to say: ‘Over my sleeping body’.”

A purplish shine shone out of Hein’s finger, blinking in the candle light as the Dusknoir twirled said finger around. George channelled water to his scalchops in the blink of an eye, as fire simmered in the back of Blitzer’s throat. All the while, the Dewott kept eye contact with Hein. From threats to violence to stalking. Enough was enough.

‘You’re not getting away with it this time, you son of a…’

A tired sensation overwhelmed him. It felt as if his limbs had been put through the wringer, a whole day of heavy lifting and chores having passed. His organs followed. First his lungs took too long to fill, then his stomach felt filled to the brim, then his eyes became heavy in their sockets, the few flashes of psychic energy disappearing as fast as they came.

George wanted to fight on, his mind raging with an anxious fury. Hein’s finger drew circles in the air, spinning and spinning like a mobile over a crib. All missing was the sound. It was almost wholesome how gentle the ghost was.

‘Nrgh… feel…’

Whatever will to fight on lingered was sapped out of his arms. George lost his grip on his scalchops, letting them clatter against the floor and bounce towards the benches. His feet struggled to support him. Blitzer still had his mouth open; instead of fire, a drawn out yawn spilled out of his jaws. He put a claw on George’s back, feet wobbling back and forth.

Moments later, the Charmeleon fell over forwards onto the ground before Hein. His chest expanded and contracted as his breathing calmed. George, now having the grand energy of a ninety year old man, flopped on top of Blitzer right after, who didn’t mind the sudden extra weight. The Dewott’s eyes snapped shut, right as Blitzer’s tail curled around his side. His warmth was so comfy.

For a moment before losing consciousness, he could’ve sworn something passed over him.

* * *

“Eh?”

“Hm…?”

“G-George?! Why are you on top of me?!”

“Wh- Aah!”

As their sleep came to a rude awakening, George jolted skywards. Sharing a room was one thing. Sleeping on top of his best friend was something else. He fell flat on his rear, the stone pressing hard against his bones, knocking him further back.

“Wh-what the hell?! Why were we sleeping?” The Dewott backed against a bench, his hand coming across a scalchop. His fingers curled around it by themselves, eyes scanning the room. It didn’t take long to cross paths with the gem above the altar.

“Look, the artefact’s right here! Why were we-”

Blitzer gritted his teeth. “I could ask you the same thing! Did we get ambushed by ferals? How come we haven’t been eaten? Were we just tired, or…”

George searched his memories, yet came up with ideas dustier than the room they were in. They had traversed the dungeon, following the lightning tether towards the altar, and then… nothing. Nothing except a vague shadow. And even that was being generous.

“I could’ve sworn it was…”

Blitzer growled as he got up, dusting off his scales before helping George to his feet. Once that was done and over with, he looked around the room. They were all alone.

“Whatever it was, we’re still here, at least.” Blitzer breathed out in relief. “Think we either tripped, or one of the nicer ferals got us.”

“Nicer ferals? If they attacked us, then they’re not very nice, are they?” George retorted out of instinct, still rubbing his cheeks to forget the awkwardness of falling asleep on top of his best friend. He probably would have cooled off by holding Blitzer’s tail against his chest, given how hot he was.

“Nicer in the sense we weren’t eaten. Pretty big difference there when it comes to ferals. Some want to eat you, others just want you to get out of their territory. I thought you knew this already.” Blitzer tightened his scarf around his neck.

George shook his head. “Of course I do! Listen, I don’t buy this for a second. We weren’t attacked by a feral. It’s just…”

He searched through his thoughts once again, to no avail. Not an inkling of a clue; no name, voice, nothing. Just a black void. How was that even possible? The attack couldn’t have been that long ago, yet they had both forgotten. Blitzer knew even less, given his bizarre feral theory.

“...egh. I know what I saw! It wasn’t a feral, it wasn’t us tripping over a rock…”

“Are you sure you’re remembering things right?” Blitzer asked, to which George shook his head.

“Yes… but we’re not doing ourselves any favours arguing over this.” George folded his ears flat against his head. “Let’s just get what we came for, then leave. We’ve been down here long enough as is.”

Blitzer licked his chops. “That I agree with.”

Dragging his tail over the floor, George snatched the crystal from the altar, twirling it around in his hand before stashing it away. Unremarkable, and powerless, much like the crystal they had stolen a few days earlier. Why the Smaugus was so interested in these, George didn’t understand.

‘If they want antiques so badly, why go through this much effort? Can’t you just make replicas? I swear, they’re treating these damn things like they’re ancient magic.’

With the mission fulfilled, George and Blitzer didn’t waste another second sticking around the old structure. They followed the tether back to the entrance, sidestepping the many anomalies on the way. All the time spent exploring, fighting and laying passed out could’ve filled any other day many times over. Plus, they were hungry.

* * *

Once outside, the weather had cleared up: No snowfall, and the sun poked through the cloudlayer. Winter’s chill wasn’t so easily driven off, however, and the wind shut down any dreams of spring before they could blossom.

Sefonia had sat down on a nearby rock. Upon hearing the two’s footsteps, she perked right up, and waved with both arms.

“Guys! You’re back! How was it?”

Blitzer ran to her with a smile. “Doable! We’ve got the artefact, it’s in George’s bag!”

“Hooray!” The Dragonite cheered. “Can I see?”

George handed his bag over. It took all of five seconds for Sefonia to give it back, and add a group hug as a tip.

“Mrph!”

George awkwardly wrapped his arms around the Dragonite, his snout glowing red hot. Blitzer squealed as he was picked up, claws shaking with giddy excitement.

“You guys are the best! I knew you could do it!” she said. “I’m so glad you’re finally back. You wouldn’t believe how lonely it got up here!”

‘Wait a minute…’ George squinted at her. She wasn’t kidding about being lonely. Someone was missing. “Where’s Sisu?”

Sefonia tilted her head at George. “Sisu?” she said, then squinted as the wind picked up. “Who’s Sisu?”

George stared at her, tail flopping onto the snow. “...You’re kidding, right? You don’t remember Sisu? The Marshadow we found here? Sitting on that rock?” He pointed towards the boulder behind his back, quickly glancing to make sure it was there. Or if Sisu wasn’t actually sitting there. She wasn’t. ‘Is this some kind of prank?’

Slowly, Sefonia’s confusion turned into an awkward laugh. “Euhh… well George, I can tell you one thing for sure. If I’d seen a Marshadow up here, I’d never forget it for as long as I’d live! Are you kidding me? Who would forget meeting a mythical Pokemon?”

George gritted his teeth. ‘You, apparently!’ “Blitzer. You saw her too, right? I-I’m not going crazy here, am I?” ‘Me, crazy? No, I ended up in crazyland, that’s what!’

Knife-like winds cut through the conversation. George blocked his face while grimacing. Blitzer let the winds slide past, oblivious to the stinging cold they brought with them. The Charmeleon’s tail twitched back and forth over the ground. The snow around the flame had half melted, revealing the dirt underneath.

“Uhh… to be honest with you George, I don’t know what you’re talking about either. Never saw any Marshadow up here, what’s up with that? Did-”

A look of horror crept onto George’s face. It didn’t take much to put two and two together, and this puzzle wasn’t much harder. Whoever attacked them by the altar had messed with their memories, and Sefonia had been the victim before that. And somehow, George’s memories had survived the brunt of it.

‘Sisu… did this? Is she behind all the stories of… of COURSE she is! How could I have been so stupid to not realise that earlier?!’

Sefonia put a claw on his shoulder. “You’re looking a little pale, George.”

“Everything ok?” Blitzer asked. “It’s okay if there’s something wrong, I’d never judge you.”

“No, no…” George breathed in deep, then rubbed his nose with the palm of his hand. “Just euh, might’ve misremembered. Could’ve been a dream I had.” ‘If only you guys knew. Man, how in the world can I even explain this? Do I just… wait? Does this go away? What else was messed with?’

“Uh huh.” Sefonia pushed his hand away. “Maybe it’s a cold. You shouldn’t touch your face like that though, you might get a bloody nose.”

George gulped. “...Yeah?”

“A lot of Pokemon with soft noses have that issue,” Blitzer explained. “It’s just something to be mindful of, hah. I should’ve explained sooner, but oh well.”

George mimicked Blitzer by placing a hand on his own chest, as he watched the lights of Tirasford turn on one by one in the distance.

‘I’d love to know when the right time to explain is… ‘cause oh boy do we have a lot to go over…’

Sefonia looked out over the city. In the distance, fire types lit the street lights around the Entivesi river. ‘It’s getting late. We should head back.“

Blitzer let out an excited growl. “Can’t wait to eat some good food instead of rations. Well deserved after a day of dungeon diving! ‘S like the arena! George here agrees!” He grabbed the Dewott by the arm, stirring him out of his thoughts with a sudden shake. “Doesn’t he?”

“Y-yeah, yeah I do. Let's just go back before it gets dark.”

Soon after, Sefonia took wing, with George and Blitzer along for the ride. George didn’t talk much, preferring to let Sefonia and Blitzer discuss which kind of steak they were going to devour in an hour, with all the details about the sweetness of the gravy and mashed the potatoes in tow. Not even the soft carrots being discussed fazed him much, and he didn’t even like carrots.

On the way out, he shot one last glance back at the dungeon. To where Sisu once was, to where they’d been ambushed, and how that page was ripped out of their textbooks. He could’ve sworn he saw a dark blue splotch sitting against the side of the mountain, flanked by various other green-necked Pokemon too far away to make out. This too didn’t faze him. He had but one question on his mind.

‘What happened?’

* * *

“Here it is.”

To her surprise, Sefonia heard another group of Pokemon approach from behind, her antennae pitching up. “Sisu? I think we’ve got company.”

“Do we?” the Marshadow mumbled, brushing the snow off her ectoplasm. “Oh huh… Looks like a Garchomp. Some others too.”

“Garchomp?” Sefonia put one foot forward. “Is it…?”

Before she finished her thought, marching up the mountain came the blue landshark, a green scarf wrapped around her neck. Her stomps reverberated through the air, as if a landslide was forming under her feet, her talons spread in a battle stance. Behind her were several Pokemon, all with similar green rags around whatever part of their body was convenient. Sefonia gulped, her feet crunching into the snow behind her.

“Hello? Odd seeing you up here.”

“I believe I am the one who should be asking this. To both of you.” Garchomp spat beside her, setting fire to the bridge between them the second she reached it. “What do we have here? A Marshadow, and a Dragonite. And not just any Dragonite. It’s the prized darling of the Smaugus.”

Sefonia held up her arms. Feeling the tension of battle rising, she was prepared to shove her opponents backwards if they insisted. Off the mountain if she had to.

“What’s with the attitude? We’re just standing here.”

Sisu twisted the coils of ectoplasm on her head around a finger, then blew some cold air out of her mouth. “Really, ‘s you who’s the troublemaker here. Like, we ain’t doing anythin’ wrong. You come up here for… whatever, with your entourage. Really. Entourage. Think you’re some kind of famed stage actor? Haven’t heard your name before. Don’t get why you’re bothering-”

Garchomp suddenly stomped her feet. “Don’t play games with me. You took that Oshawott here. You’re trying to hide him. I know what your aims are, and I’m going to put an end to them. Now get out of the way, or surrender!”

Sefonia furiously gritted her teeth as the snow spatted up against her feet. “Over my dead body! You’re NOT getting those dirty claws of yours on anyone!” she yelled. And that were all the words she was going to counter with. She stuck her arms into the wind, an icy chill spreading through her arms, then redirected it towards the Garchomp at full force. Not a full Blizzard, though damn close.

Her opponent had raised her fins in anticipation, falling to her knees to shelter. “You’re one FOOL!” she growled as the icy winds struck. “I knew the Smaugus were all tainted as well! Go, GO! ARREST THEM!”

Upon them descended a storm of Pokemon, striking from all angles imaginable in the limited space. Sisu raised her fists and began to throw shadowy punches around. Sefonia still kept her arms up. First came a Mabosstiff and a Weavile. She swerved away from their teeth and claws, tail whipping the Weavile into the boulders on her way out, then kicked Mabosstiff in the face, following up with a draconic roar as she clawed back in revenge. She tore a clump of fur off the Mabostiff, and the beast collapsed onto the snow, howling from the pain.

Winds with the gale force of a Hurricane struck Sefonia next. She glared into the sky. A Pelipper revealed itself as the guilty party, flapping its wings with enough force to reach Mount Tenebrous’ top in a snowstorm. Under its cover, several fighters from a Breloom to a Ceruledge were closing the gap, claws and swords ready to slice the Dragonite to pieces. Sefonia wasn’t having it. Not one bit.

“Surrender!”

First, Sefonia flapped her wings and jumped, feigning herself about to take flight. Pelipper aimed its Hurricane poorly as a result, leaving enough room for Sefonia to fight like the Garchomp in their midsts instead. She hurled her body forward as if she were diving into her snow, letting her right wing slash at Breloom while her tail struck Ceruledge in the face. Once back to her feet, Breloom was down. Ceruledge wasn’t, so she clawed at him too. Going berserk like many dragons was the last thing she wanted. Steady, skillful, powerful. That was the key.

Just Pelipper was left, still Hurricaning away with the hopes that someone would take advantage. Sefonia stuck her tongue in her cheek, and decided to have a little fun. Wind can go backwards as well as forwards, after all. She clenched her fist, moved her arms through the wind to roll it up, then directed it backwards, passing it over Pelliper who squawked as he lost his balance. The bird Pokemon spiralled out of control, barrelling straight towards Sefonia, whose arms were already crackling with electricity. One punch to the beak later, another Pokemon lay at her feet.

Now, just one opponent remained.

A growl escaped Sefonia’s throat as the Garchomp circled her. Sisu was nowhere in sight. In the thrill of battle, Sefonia had lost track of her. Given who they were up against, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what might’ve happened.

“You’re a ripe fool, you know that, don’t you?”

“Says you… you’re one cruel, cruel lady, Lord Gareda. Is this how you say hello to people who’ve done no wrong?”

The Garchomp scoffed, giving her scarf a good yank. “No wrong, Sefonia? Is your head screwed on backwards? Recited the ‘code’ a few too many times? Damn crazy cultists… You’re in a cult! A cult aligned with actual terrorists! Folk who’ll burn the world to a crisp if you give ‘em the chance!” she growled.

“So you want to destroy us?” Sefonia asked. “Do you think I’m a monster now?”

“Of course not!” Gareda growled. “So young, so talented, yet so deluded… the only reason I’m angry now is because I want to cry, Sefonia. I want to cry. You’re everything a dragon should aspire to be, and yet…”

“...She isn’t quite aware of what lurks all around her. Is that what you meant to say?”

Gareda’s pupils shrank down to tiny, crazed beads. “That voice…!” she said with a rasp. Sefonia’s antennae dropped to the level of her head as the silhouette of a Dusknoir emerged from the cliffside rocks, the yellow bands on its shadowy form glowing while its fingers danced about like fireflies in the night.

“This has all gotten out of hand, I’m afraid… what a shame it has to be resolved like this.”

Soon a strange dizziness washed over Sefonia, as she fell into a sleep, her grasp on the last hour fading away…