The Lord saw how great the wickedness of the human race had become on the earth, and that every inclination of the thoughts of the human heart was only evil all the time.
Genesis 6:5 NIV
Chris Christodoulou's Surface Tension
I poked my head over the rim of what was essentially an oversized, tightly-woven basket of some hardy wood and was instantly hit by a rush of cold wind and moisture that felt great against my fur. The scarf wrapped around my left foreleg with a pecha berry nestled in threatened to fly off, but I pressed my upper foreleg against the basket, securing it. For a moment the rush and droplets of water continued to crash against my face as all I could see was an overwhelming white.
I’m sure I look like a dog sticking its head out the window, but this is far too incredible an experience to care much, I thought, barely able to hear my own thoughts over the roar of air streaming by. Although I had finned ears, they still managed to capture sounds almost as well as when I was an eevee.
I briefly wondered how well they’d work underwater before I looked up. Percival, the corviknight carrying the basket that held myself as well as Team Brave, flapped his wings and seemed to turn towards a downward angle. I held on tighter and couldn’t help but quickly glance to Booker the ribombee and Sneasel the, well, sneasel, as they remained sitting within the carriage, shielded from the moisture and winds.
I wondered initially why the two members of Team Brave weren’t enjoying the ferocious flight, but then reason struck me.
For Sneasel, a native, this kind of transportation must’ve been commonplace; nothing to get excited over.
That makes sense for Sneasel, but Booker? This kind of flight can’t even compare to airplanes; why isn’t Booker revelling in what would normally be a once-in-a-lifetime experience of flight?
I then realized that, not only had he arrived around the Clover Guild’s foundation two years prior from what I had been told – giving him ample time to have done this – but since he had wings I assumed he had learned to fly long ago and this was nothing new to him.
That and he would almost surely be carried away by the sheer speed we faced as we continued to dive.
I glanced to the right of me and could make out through the clouds another corviknight carrying a basket identical to our own, with another pokemon poking its head out, albeit moreso out of necessity due to his size.
Pirth’s two hooved forelegs were hanging over the size of the basket, his puffy coat dancing in the wind alongside the frayed ends of the white blindfold he had. While he had no choice but to poke out of the basket, the massive smile spread across his face said that he didn’t mind at all.
I turned back ahead just as we broke from the vast white that enveloped us, and I focused my attention to the verdant green below; the lack of clouds obstructing my vision enabled me to make out the rapidly approaching world as we made a swift descent towards the verdant green landscape below.
I could see in the distance – perhaps a half hour’s walk at my size – a decently sized town with a nearby river. Although it was surrounded by large swathes of farmland in three directions which surrounded the river, towards us there was a dense forest stretching from the outskirts to the clearing below, except where a winding path could be barely seen through the foliage.
Percival began to flap his wings, slowing us, the inertia pitching the basket forward. I had to hold on tightly and slapped my tail to the bottom of the basket to give myself some extra stability, and I could see from the corner of my eye Sneasel holding Booker tightly in her claws.
Sneasel… I thought, letting the words hang. Althi’s reaction to Lliam was by no means good, and neither was her refusal to back out because of her pride was no better. She mentioned she’d think of some sort of plan but…
I turned towards the other basket, Pirth still wildly smiling as the chartered corviknight struggled to deal with Pirth’s weight.
I haven’t heard anything… Ari! Are you there?
I am, ďAlin. I suppose you can finally hear your own thoughts?
Another beat of the wings slowed us further. In the midst of the forest clearing I saw a cave that appeared like something out of a cartoon: a rocky mound jutting up from the surrounding field. A distinguishing feature, however, was that this pile of rocks, despite appearing formless, was composed of a chaotic combination of black and white rocks. Perhaps obsidian and marble?
I wouldn’t know.
Christ almighty, Arimis! I forget you’re in here sometimes.
Oh! I can leave.
No no, Ari, you’re fine, I thought as I continued watching the strange cavern as we slowed. I’d like you to tell me the plan of attack. I know Althi said she’d figure out something during the long flight.
Percival began to flap his wings more rapidly, slowing down as we neared the ground. I- she- Althi wants to take the lead.
That… might be a problem. I was talking with Sneasel during the flight, and she said she wanted to be the leader because she has a lot more experience. Which, considering how long she’s been here, is definitely true.
Oh, how long?
Since the foundation of the Clover Guild, which I found out was nearly two years ago.
Well, that might prove to be problematic indeed.
You think Althi will give way? I asked mentally as the baskets gently made contact with the ground.
You know how stubborn she is. Let’s just hope Sneasel gives way instead.
As Sneasel stood up within the basket and had Booker in her claws, I hopped out and landed on the grassy meadow, the air wavering from the final wingbeats of Percival as if he were a helicopter. And if not?
We go in on our own. I saw her pack away orbs in Pirth’s bag. “Contingencies,” she told me.
The corviknight-for-hire landed beside us, and as Booker and Sneasel made their way out of the basket, so too did the rest of Team Eevee: Pirth managed to easily step out of the basket while Althi and Arimis both gracefully leaped over it. Everyone stretched in their own way as soon as they exited.
I saw both Sneasel and Booker do a simultaneous stretching of their arms over their heads. Pirth began to lightly prance around to warm up. Althi and Arimis both stretched like cats. As for myself, I struck a yoga pose and flexed my tail, which felt especially cramped in the basket.
“Alright,” said the other corviknight. “I was told we don’t have to wait all day for you here; I’ll be in Shuropak which shouldn’t be too far a walk for you. Do you know where it is?”
“I- I do,” said Booker.
I speak up. “Right, I also saw it while we were landing. There’s a trail that leads there, no?”
“Yep that’s correct,” replied the corviknight. “If you go in the direction of those rainclouds way over on the horizon, you’ll find it. Speaking of, I know the plan is to stay overnight in Shuropak, but that storm will hit the town quite early tomorrow, then make its way across the continent before crashing into Capim. It might be best if we beat it since it’ll make flying all the more trouble.”
Pirth spoke up. “How can we beat it? Do you want me to tell Arceus to fight Tornadus and Thundurus?”
The corviknight-for-hire shot a puzzling look at Pirth. “Uh, n-no? D-do they even live here?” he asked, shooting a confused glance at us. We all just shrugged.
“Well, my point is that I wouldn’t mind flying you out whenever you’re done instead of overnighting in town; it’ll save time and money.” The corviknight turned to Percival. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but there’s a spot all us corviknights like to roost in at the far end of Shuropak. If you’re fine with flying through the night, we can go rest now and get tomorrow off.”
Percival, after a moment of thought and consultation with us, answered in the affirmative and the pair, after confirming with Booker we were in the proper location – I mean what would the ominous looking cave composed of black-and-white rocks be if not Checkered Chasm? – flew off. The downdraft they made almost threw Booker off of Sneasel’s head, and I hate to admit it was a little difficult to not laugh at the scene.
That left us alone. I was standing beside Sneasel and Booker while I stared at Althi, Pirth, and Arimis all in a line looking at us. Well, except Pirth who was smiling at where he presumed we were, which was close enough.
Chris Christodoulou's It Can’t Rain All the Time
Sneasel broke the silence. “So, I guess we didn’t really properly introduce each other. Y’know, since you said we were in a rush and all. I’m Sneasel, and this is my trusty partner, Booker.”
A beat passed and no one spoke, so I decided to speak up. “Well nice to meet you formally, I-”
“We’re Team Eevee,” said Althi flatly. “And in case you weren’t aware, Sneasel, I’m deaf. That means you’ll have to speak on your little partner’s behalf; even with my great eyes I can’t read his tiny lips.”
I actually took care of that, Arimis announced.
Booker looked surprised, and then asked Arimis, “I just heard a voice... w-was that you?”
“What do you hear in your head?” asked Sneasel.
I’m sorry! I only had time to communicate with one of them, so I went with the pokemon that Althi would have the most difficulty with.
Before I can say anything, her voice once again rings out in my mind. Difficulty communicating with.
Booker started to relay this to Sneasel, but Althi, taking a step towards us, interrupted. “Human, you mean… are you a human too, Sneasel?”
Sneasel let out a small frown, seemingly not liking the way Althi said her name. “No, and why would it matter? Booker’s a human and I couldn’t ask for a better partner than him.” I seemed to notice the two of them shared a small smile.
It swifty disappeared as she noticed that Althi narrowed her eyes in response. “No reason. Now, before we go over the dungeon that’s right in front of us, should we review the objective?”
“S-sure it wouldn’t hurt. Especially s-since this is a special mission,” said Booker. Arimis looked at Booker then at Althi, who seemed to finally understand what he said.
“Continue,” Althi declared.
I could feel Sneasel get annoyed at Althi very quickly based on her frown and how she shifted herself, but Booker simply continued.
“Well, from the basics. W-we know that the dungeon is very special since its first half is like a regular dungeon, except that there are no items. This is why no one really goes in. E-especially alone. Here there are ferals, just mostly rock pokemon with a few outliers.
“Its s-second is split into two separate caverns. Supposedly we get split a-as evenly as possible when we’re in a group between the caves of Truth and Ideals. N-not too much is known about those parts, though, except that some explorers experience… hallucinations.”
This caught my interest. “Hallucinations?”
Booker shifted on top Sneasel’s head and put up a little hand to his equally small head.
Fuck, it must suck being a regular-sized human and not only waking up a bug, but a tiny-ass bug.
Booker spoke. “Y-yes. A defense mechanism m-maybe? The information a-about the second half of the dungeon was the most inconsistent part of the report…”
I mulled over it, but Althi quickly spoke up again before I could follow up. “And what about the dragapult?”
“D-Drew? W-we have to look for his horns. For the dreepy since th-they can’t sleep without them apparently.”
“Actually,” I started to say, catching the attention of both teams. “How’re we supposed to identify them? If we get separated and Booker can only go in one of the Caves after the midpoint, how will the other team know what it looks like?”
Realizing Lliam’s oversight, we listened intently as Booker told us what the horns looked like, trying his best without a diagram. Pirth had difficulty understanding what the “red part” was, but we reassured him that he’d have others there to help.
Sneasel, who was waiting impatiently for this, was elated that the short lecture was finally over. “Okay, now since we settled that, are you guys ready to go in? Cuz I’ve been itching to go exploring since the first hour of that super long air ride.”
At this she idly coalesced ice around her claws, and I looked at it with a hint of suspicion. Althi looked at it with far more than just a hint.
“Sure, I’ll lead us, and you just listen to whatever I say!” Althi declared.
Sneasel’s ice seemed to solidify a bit more as she refocused on the glaceon before her. “I don’t think so. You’re new to the Guild and Lliam requested us specifically. I think I should lead us on this one.”
“He requested us too,” Althi retorted. “Besides, I have experience leading a team of lots of members. Full-sized members. You’ve just had to worry about yourself and your tiny partner.”
Now Sneasel was getting irate. The ice began to harden further. “I’m just gonna let you guys know I led a very successful expedition with the Federation before into an unknown dungeon. With a different team. I have plenty of experience leading, and I think you guys, even if trained, could use a guiding claw.”
Althi took notice of the ice and let out a wild smirk. “You might want to use one of your dark-type moves, Sneasel. Ice won’t do too much to me.”
Senasel seemed confused for a moment until she realized what she was unconsciously doing. She sighed and the ice melted away almost instantly. “I don’t know where you got the idea I’d wanna start a fight with you. We’re all on the same side here. ‘Sides, I don’t really use dark-type moves anyways.”
Althi appeared genuinely surprised by what Sneasel had just said, and I glanced at Arimis who seemed just as surprised at her reaction.
“O-oh,” Althi said, trying to find her words. “W-well. I, uh, why is that?”
Sneasel let out an annoyed sigh. “Ugh… well, if you’ve really wanna know, the tribe I come from has a tendency to go berserk when we use dark-type moves. I’ve gotten better at controlling it, but I still prefer ice-type moves cuz I’m so used to ‘em.”
Oh shit.
I look at Althi, any surprise she had long gone, having been replaced by a cautious vindication. She spoke. “‘Berserk?’ Okay, you’re definitely not going to lead the mission.”
Sneasel raised a claw and pointed it at herself. “I said I am!”
Booker from atop her head tried to play mediator. “W-why don’t we try to r-reach a compromise?”
Either Althi managed to see this or Arimis was quick with relaying what Booker said, since Althi’s response was almost instant. “Compromise? With you? Tch! I don’t think so!”
Sneasel let out a ferocious growl, but fortunately it was quickly overcome by a voice in all our heads save for Sneasel’s. Everyone. Why don’t we go with your backup plan, Althi?
After Booker relayed the message to his partner, she responded harshly. “And what’s that gonna be? You leave us to do the mission on our own?”
Althi frowned. “No. I figured you wouldn’t be able to see reason so I made up a backup plan in case I was proven right. Which I was.”
“Althi,” I started to say, “I think it’d be best to-”
“Not now, ďAlin,” came Althi’s harsh response which was paired with a glance of her eyes. She then looked back at Sneasel and held her head high as she spoke. “The backup plan I came up with is that we can enter together but go through the dungeon on our own. If one team finds the exit, since Arimis can communicate with Booker now, that team would let the other one know. Go up together, then split up. We’ll cover more ground and be faster. And not have to worry about you.”
It was now Booker who spoke up. “I-I don’t th-think that’s the best idea. Th-this d-dungeon is supposed to b-be dangerous. A-and splitting up in new dungeons isn’t something I-I’d want to do if we c-could help it.”
Arimis relayed this to Althi who was immediately displeased. “Unless you’re going to let me lead, then that’s what we’re doing.”
While Booker and Sneasel deliberated, I took in a deep breath, inhaling the sweet aroma of the meadow, the scent contrasting greatly with how dirty I felt at how we were treating them. I turned to speak with Team Eevee’s leader. “Althi, I don’t know if this is a great idea. They’re Guildmates. We have to start trusting somewhere.”
Althi walked to me and whispered. “Didn’t you hear her, d’Alin? Berserk. We’ll start somewhere, fine. Just not here.”
I am with ďAlin on this; this sneasel has done nothing to us before. In fact, this team is supposedly among the Clover Guild’s best.
A pause in thought before Arimis continues. You can at least admit that not every pokemon or dark type is the same.
“Arimis I… nevermind. Listen, do you all think I want to go in alone? I’d much rather have extra help. But this ‘Team Brave?’ A berserk sneasel? We’re going to do this safely. Under my leadership or on our own. Not being led into a trap.”
“Going separate from our Guildmates,” I said, “Is the opposite of doing this safely.”
“ďAlin, I will not have Ruined Roost happen a second time, got it? Either I take charge so I am in control, or we don’t go together to avoid the issue. I’m trusting them enough to go in alongside them; that’s the most them being Guildmates gets from me.”
This was clearly an argument I was not going to win. For better or for worse, Team Brave seemed to understand this as well as they finished their own discussion.
“Fine, Sneasel unceremoniously announced to us, “me and Booker are okay with it as long our teams can stay in contact. Right?”
Sneasel looked upward at her partner on her head, who then became more visible when he stood up. I could see the blue cape he wore flutter in the wind as he looked at Arimis, who looked at him back. He let out a faint smile and spoke. “Yeah, w-we can communicate. J-just be safe.”
“I’ll make sure we will be,” Althi responded as both teams started to walk towards the ominous, dark entrance of Checkered Chasm.
“A-and remember. I-if there’s a problem you can always l-let us know.”
Arimis must’ve relayed this because, although Althi was looking straight to the deep black void that separated us from the mystery dungeon, she responded with finality. “Sure, but I wouldn’t count on it.”
I shifted a bit in discomfort, and so too did Senasel and Booker who did not seem appreciate Althi’s hostile attitude.
She stepped in, followed by Pirth then Arimis. Before I took my step, I looked back at them and tried to give a sympathetic smile, which Booker returned but Senasel just looked at confusedly.
I sighed as I took a step into Checkered Chasm and was enveloped by the darkness, my last thought while standing on the world above being that this whole situation seemed the absolute perfect storm for disaster.
Chris Christodoulou's Out of Whose Womb Came the Ice?
As I entered, I was surprised that the first of my senses to react to anything were my ears. Then again, as a vaporeon, this made sense – what I heard were the gentle echoes of water dropping into a pool.
Next was my fur, which was immediately met with the cool of the cave. I inhaled, and the air felt not just cool but stagnant. Old.
Ancient? Archaic? Antediluvian? I couldn’t quite figure out as to why that was, or what made the air feel as if it came from some bygone age, but the air I breathed in was unmistakably so.
I took a step forward, pushing through the darkness and entering the dungeon, and my paw stepped into a small puddle of water, no more than a few inches deep; the water felt especially pleasant and cool to the touch, colder than the air of the dungeon but pleasant perhaps only because I was a vaporeon.
The pitch-black darkness was replaced by only a mild one as my eyes adjusted; the water also let out a faint, blue bioluminescent glow. Although there was no discernable light source for the grey, ambient light, I could see just fine within the room. The hallway, however, was shrouded in shadow.
I looked down and saw that, although I was standing in a puddle, most of the room was covered in it. For all of the floor save for the area immediately beside the walls, the rooms of Checkered Chasm seemed to be covered in shallow pools of water.
A drop fell from the ceiling beside me, creating a small ripple. I followed it, watching it as it moved away from me and across the room, the little wave gently crashing against Pirth’s hooves, then Althi’s paws, who were both before me. I turned to my right to see if the wave hit Arlimis’ paws, only to see them oscillating in and out of reality, exposing small red paws where the purple paws of an espeon would be.
“Arimis, you, uh…”
I turned to my mind.
Arimis, your paws.
She looked at me then looked down and a look of terror spread across her face. She turned around and in a single leap landed along the dry edge of the cavern before shaking her paws clean of any water droplets.
You can’t be in water?
N-no, I cannot. Water is refractive so it sends my illusions, which are tricks of light, into disarray.
That explains why it can shimmer, but why does it disappear in smoke as well?
Just as the ferals are apparitions of light and energy, I too have to put energy into an illusion. I believe that is what is released when the illusion completely breaks.
Noted, and I’ll make sure to not douse you if we fight. I joked. No response came, just a weary sideways glance.
Then, Sneasel and Booker appeared out of the shadow to my left, and they both took a keen look around, Sneasel with her claw already beading with small pricks of ice. Now that my eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness, I joined them in their observation of the dungeon as well.
The ceiling, the ground that wasn’t submerged, and the walls were all a chaotic, haphazard mix of black and white rock. If there was a pattern, I couldn’t see one.
“Well, this room looks clear. There’s only one passage so let’s get moving together,” Sneasel noted.
“You go first, we’ll watch your back.” Althi said.
Sneasel shot Althi with a hostile glance but nonetheless advanced, and we followed closely behind.
Arimis hurriedly walked around the edge of the room, staying on the dry floor.
Althi shot her a strange look. “Arimis, everything alright? It’s not shallow at all.”
Another droplet of water echoed in the room as Arimis paused for a moment then responded within our minds. The water is cold. I would rather my feet stay dry.
Althi let out a surprised and warm laugh. “Water? Cold? Arimis, you have a glaceon and a vaporeon on your team. You might have to get used to those two things eventually.”
Althi then lost the warmth in her voice, all of it replaced by an edged frost as she looked to the hallway ahead of us that Team Brave was already partway through. “Now, just stick with me and we’ll get out of this in one piece. Keep an eye out on the Sneasel especially.”
“Althi, we-” I started to say, but I stopped myself. She had already began to walk forward, with Pirth trailing behind her. I followed behind him, and Arimis behind myself.
The hallway, like the edge of the rooms, was dry, though the formless fusion of black and white stone that marked the walls and ceiling still bore no pattern. It was difficult to see ahead of the hallway as well, for the thick shadows of the dungeon made seeing anything beyond a few paces difficult. Since the sound of all our paws were relatively quiet, the only thing that echoed aside from the occasional drop of water was Pirth’s hooves. Pirth…
I call out to the super-leafeon in front of me. “Pirth?”
“ďAlin!” came the jovial response.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, how do you feel about everything Althi has been saying?”
I was able to see Pirth’s ears twitch and a frown form. “About what? Sneasel?”
I sighed. “Yes. Sneasel. Dark types… humans.”
I hear the unease echo in ďAlin’s breath as the word “humans” rolls off his tongue.
What do I say, Arceus?
HUMANS ARE NOT MY CREATION, PIRTH.
Yes, but-
THEREFORE THEY ARE THAT OF THE ENEMY. OF GIRATINA.
But ďAlin? He’s a good one.
A POOCHENYA SHEATHED IN THE WOOL OF A MAREEP.
I can’t help but stomp a bit hard as we walk, which I hear catches the attention of ďAlin and Arimis behind me, the pair inhaling a bit faster than usual in a sort of flinch. ďAlin, who alongside Arimis saved me and my sister.
Who was willing to give up everything for us.
You know what, you’re wrong, Arceus.
EXCU-
Quiet! Don’t you remember that one that hugged me in the Guild? Pochi? He was nice…
AND YET YOU TOLD YOUR SISTER YOU TRUST HER.
I do, you celestial retard. But… maybe she’s…
A drop of water from the ceiling hits the floor. It reverberates around the hallway among the quiet shuffle of paws.
…wrong? Maybe confused.
I let out a snort.
I mean, you’re definitely wrong. Pochi was a dark type, influenced by humans, and he was nice. The skitty Shelby, praised me, your finely-crafted super-leafeon. How could someone influenced by Giratina not burn away at the mere sight of me?
WELL YOU MAKE SOME POINTS…
Duh. I’m a super-leafeon and your chosen prophet to the world to spread your wisdom on the evils of Sawsbuck. I’m right about everything.
STILL I MAINTAIN THAT-
Maintain your silence, Arceus; I’m still talking. I… I don’t know about Althi’s feelings toward Sneasel.
YOU DARE DOUBT YOUR OWN KIN.
SHUT IT! Look, I appreciate you telling me about how evil Sawsbuck are and their agenda to attack you. Obviously you’re going to fuck their shit up through me, your divine conduit, but you’re wrong on this. The Sneasel is rude, but she didn’t attack us.
NOR DID WEAVILE. UNTIL THE PROPER MOMENT. HE SLEW GARCHOMP.
At that moment I hear a feral cry out ahead of us. I hear Sneasel’s foot scratch on the floor of the hallway and three very sharp intakes of breath, with one much much fainter than the other two.
The loudest is right in front of me, Althi. I hear her get ready to fight, the frosty air around her turning a few degrees colder. I hear her paws move, one stepping forward and the other back so that she would be facing the direction not of the feral, but of the other two breaths.
The lightest breath is Booker’s, the ribombee that’s supposed to be a human, but since he’s smaller he’s more retarded than ďAlin. Booker’s gasp is almost drowned out by the one coming from right below him—from Sneasel.”
Sneasel. I hear her draw a breath, promptly followed by the cracking of ice, each crystal making a sound sort of like glass until I hear claws grasp onto it.
With a small grunt I hear a whoosing sound, promptly followed by the cry of a feral.
As Sneasel coalesces more of her ice shards to throw, my mind turns back to where this sound made the greatest impression on me.
When Weavile slew Garchomp on Ruined Roost.
A whoosh of a dart, and I find myself back on the floor, weak. Pathetic. A shame to all Leafeons. Another whoosh echoes, and this time it doesn’t hit a feral but instead it shatters against the gem of Starmie, her psychic words of unwavering resolve, both playing in my mind.
The sickening laugh of Weavile as he taunts us is all I hear save for another ice shard flying across the room, my voice too weak to warn my team.
Althi yelling for ďAlin to move and taking the hit as another whooshing sound is heard.
A cry of surprise from ďAlins voice, fearing for Arimis’ life.
The sound that sounded kind of like a feral dying, but I still couldn’t figure out what it was, but slowly drowned out by the dying laugh of Weavile before Arimis struck him down.
“I got it!” Sneasel cheers, the sounds of dissolving smoke fading away. “Let’s keep going! I think this really long hallway is almost done.”
The air around Althi warms only slightly.
Okay. Maybe you’re right. I’ll be on guard.
DO SO, PIRTH.
But you’re absolutely wrong on humans. Or at least ďAlin. And I’m going to let him know that I trust him. I wouldn’t have vouched for him otherwise…
We continue to walk forward and I hear the sound of Sneasel’s claws which have been rhythmically tapping on the stone slow down, only for them to make a splash in water.
Then so do Althi’s paws, but I can tell she is still tense since I hear the water that touches her paws start to crackle with frost.
Sneasel’s voice echoes in the cavern. “Yep, there it is, the stairs. See, workin’ together ain’t so hard.”
Althi stands still for a moment, letting the words hang in the air as ďAlin and Arimis both approach behind me; though I hear ďAlin step into the water and glide his paw over it, I do not hear Arimis do the same.
“We didn’t work together. We just happened to follow the same path,” I hear my sister reply rather carelessly.
Sneasel lets out a low growl, and I ready myself to hear the sound of ice coalescing around claws, a sound that I am easily able to remember. Thankfully, the sound doesn’t come, and Snasel simply says, “I really don’t know what problem you have with us, but it’s getting pretty tiring.”
“I don’t-”
“And dangerous. Just cuz Booker and I are experienced Explorers doesn’t make this place any less dangerous. Same with you guys. We gotta work together. Splitting up in dungeons…I got experience with that kinda thing, and it’s... well, terrible.”
I hear Booker’s meek voice from above Sneasel’s. “Y-yeah it’s not a good idea.”
A silence comes over us, and I hear ďAlin speak, his voice passing me as he approaches Althi, presumably to look at her. “I agree. We have to move on, together.”
Althi’s voice is thick with frost. “Since when do you call the shots, ďAlin?”
I hear him let out a sigh. “I’m not, but isn’t it better if we advance together? It is your plan, after all.”
“Hmph! They have to take the stairs first.”
ďAlin once again lets out a small sigh of frustration, but this time it has a hint of understanding. My mind flashes back to the sounds of Weavile rummaging in his bag behind us before his laughter rushes past me and towards the horde of ferals we faced.
“Alright, I agree,” says ďAlin. “Sneasel, Booker, can you both take the fore? We’ll be in the rear.”
“Will you?” remarks Sneasel. “It sure seems like you just plan on abandoning us.”
“No,” says Althi. “As long as Team Eevee is here together, we won’t abandon you. I can promise you that much.”
“Can you-”
“Listen, Sneasel, I don’t know where you come from, but for me a promise goes a long way. Made by me or to me. If that’s not enough for you, then I don’t know what is.”
Sneasel lets out another growl, this time out of frustration at being interrupted. I hear Booker let out a stuttered whisper into Sneasel’s ear, and she echoes it. “Good point, partner. Alright, Althi, I believe you. I’ll take point, but I want ďAlin right behind us.”
ďAlin? Why?
THEY ARE IN CONCERT WITH EACH OTHER. HE WILL BETRAY YOU.
Wow Arceus, I didn’t know that us getting exposed to all these humans would make you retarded too. That’s, like, the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.
Then the realization hits me: ďAlin, it seems, harbors no ill will towards Sneasel or Booker and the little ribombee observed this. And if ďAlin follows immediately after Team Brave, the rest of Team Eevee will be sure to follow and won’t leave them to fend for themselves on the next floor.
Right Arceus?
THAT IS QUITE OBSERVANT, PIRTH. BUT REGARDLESS I-
Okay, you’re done.
I hear Althi grumble under her breath, seemingly coming to the same conclusion.
I speak up, turning my head towards Althi. “I agree, I think it’s fine. Right Althi?”
“Sure,” comes the quick reply.
“Arimis?”
I concur… I will take our rear.
“And why is that, Arimis?” Althi asks, harsher than intended because I hear it come out at first sharp with frustration, but it tapers off at Althi’s last breath with surprise at herself.
A pause from her before her voice appears in my mind. Of us all, am I not the most adept at holding my own? I am, after all, difficult to hit.
I let out a laugh. “Of course! In fact, the only time I ever remember Arimis taking a hit was on purpose, to protect ďAlin on Ruined Roost!”
Another silence envelops us, and this time I am to blame. Arceus..?
THIS ONE IS ON YOU PIRTH AND YOU KNOW IT.
Yeah…
ďAlin breaks the silence. “Lets… let’s get a move on then, shall we?”
Sneasel’s claws splash in the water once more before scraping against the sound of the cold rocky stair. Then, they disappear; Sneasel and Booker have gone to the next level. ďAlin’s steps follow as well, but when only one touches the stair, Althi speaks. “Just, ďAlin… be careful.”
I can hear the smile from his voice. “You know it. And you’re right behind me?”
I make out a gentle sigh from Althi beside me, a sort of half-breath, half-laugh that relieves a bit of tension. “You know it,” she echoes.
ďAlin disappears up the stairs, and I hear Althi follow, her footsteps no longer creating frost on the water. But she, too, quickly stops and tells us when ďAlin has already ascended, “Don’t trust them.”
She disappears, and I quickly follow, my hooves splashing in water before touching a step of rock. It is only when Althi’s footsteps disappear that I hear Arimis take a step onto the water, a very careful one.
Now apparently it’s my turn to speak. “Arimis, just know we have your back, alright?”
I- uh… come the uneasy sounds in my head.
I remember Althi’s words about promises; everything she said is true for me, too.
“And that’s a promise,” I try to say reassuringly, making sure to bare my teeth in what I’ve been told is a “smile.”
The new thought that comes, which helps to drown out Arceus complaining that I, His chosen messenger, just can’t hand out promises willy-nilly, is far warmer than the one before it. Thank you, Pirth.
With that, I take another step up and rejoin my sister and ďAlin.
Chris Christodoulou's Antarctic Oscillation
I look as Pirth disappears up the stairs situated in the midst of the room, the staircase composed of black-and-white rock jutting upwards and disappearing. I follow, each step causing my purple paws to lightly shimmer in the water. I glance down at my reflection to see a zorua looking back at me.
My feelings wavering, I take one step, then a second up the stairs then shake my paws, making certain that they are dry before joining the rest of the team.
I emerge to find myself against the wall, the rest of Team Eevee and Team Brave standing in various positions surrounding me, all of them in the water. Their reflections betray their faces of focus and anger. Surrounding us, beyond them, are a plethora of ferals all in various stages of their assault.
I took too long. We are in the midst of battle.
A whirlipede, midair, is a moment away from crashing into Sneasel, whose focus is turned elsewhere. I can barely make out Booker perched atop her head seemingly make a motion, and I find that most of us are encased in a thin veil of light. Just as with Starmie.
This does not stop the whirlipede from knocking into her, but the light screen that Booker had just cast fluctuates in intensity, the screen seemingly absorbing some of the blow.
She quickly turns her attention to the attacker, ice forming around her claws as she slashes at the whrilipede, the attack slicing right through it and leaving behind a smoky gash. She turns her attention to her left, where Team Eevee is fighting, and the ice condensed around her claws reforms into a sharp icicle, it growing in size as the air further freezes.
My heart skips a beat as I watch as she, in the blink of an eye, takes aim at Pirth who is standing over a pile of smoke that has been bludgeoned into being utterly unrecognizable, and winds up her arm.
Although I prepare my mind to somehow defend him, to try to stop this, I realize that my extrasensory will have no effect on Sneasel and come too late; she is faster than I anticipated.
I am helpless as she releases the ice shard and as it sails towards Pirth, I see in slow motion as it connects with a dive-bombing archen, hitting it squarely where the wing meets the body and throwing it to the ground.
I cannot help but feel a hot, aching shame rise from within me as the archen makes impact with the water, the inky smoke bleeding into the shallow water and turning it a sickly black.
You are as bad as her.
Pirth evidently hears the splash of the impact but pays no heed to it, his ears turning instead honing in on a boldore who bears white-tipped crystals as opposed to the usual orange-red ones. It slashes at him, but he lets out a curse at the attack, turns around, and using both his hind legs kicks it. The feral goes flying and lands with a resounding crack, disappearing with a glimmer of light and smoke.
I make note of a lampent descending from the dark ceiling above, the blue flames it has intensifying as it appears to focus on Pirth.
I let the shame within me rise, letting the feeling of anger I have against myself come forth and coalesce into an attack. I ready my illusion to give the appearance of a psychic attack, an ethereal pink-and-purple light beginning to surround the lampent.
Before I can act, however, a yamask appears before me, carrying a –
A mask of a zorua.
Normally they carry masks of some strange face of a pokemon that no one has ever seen, but this time the mask is that of a zorua, its blue eyes looking straight at me.
It might as well have been a mirror. I see in its eyes which are sapphire gems a reflection of my own shame, my own sadness. The stones seem to almost shine in the dull light, the bottoms of them catching the light just enough to seem as if they have tears forming.
I snap out of the trance, but it is too late. It was enough for the yamask to have readied an attack, and now I must press the attack against the lampent or-
No. Begone.
I have no recourse. With barely enough time to maintain the illusion, I dispel it from around the lampent and instead have the air around the yamask glow bright. I feel it now, anger mixed with shame, and the burning feeling escapes my mind as I focus on the “core” of the creature, its source of energy and the only viable place to attack in lieu of the feral’s absent brain.
I unleash my attack, the rising emotions within me overwhelming the core of the yamask, the hot pain I feel within translated into psychic energy, overwhelming it with my sense of shame until the core is forced to burst rather easily, the energy within expanding outward and shattering it. My vision exits the “inner part” of the yamask and return to the battle before me, where I see the yamask, its thoughtless eyes somehow bearing a look of utter surprise, fall to the ground in a shimmer of light that glows ever so slightly, illuminating the water somewhat before dissipating completely.
I look into the water and watch as the mask, too, fades away, but the zorua looking back at me remains.
Now is no time for distraction, I remind myself as I return my attention to the lampent, though I am too late. Its attack has already been unleashed which Pirth managed to absorb with the help of the light screen surrounding him, albeit not without a cringe of pain appearing on his face.
I notice that there is a delicate frost on it, rapidly melting away due to the heat of its blue flame.
Althi attacked it to little effect. I realize. Althi clearly realizes this as well as I hear her call out for aid. “ďAlin!”
My attention shifts to the vaporeon which is standing over a whirlipede encased in light and bits of smoke, his body lightly bruised. He turns to Althi and yells, “yes?”
“Attack that lampent! Above Pirth!”
I watch as his light-blue and deep-navy eyes glance to Pirth, then look above. The disappointment I see in them is reflected in his voice as he replies. “My water gun is useless, Althi.”
“Just do it!” she demands.
With the frontline of battle all but gone, the few ferals remaining on the ground being attacked by Sneasel and Pirth, he takes a series of steps backward, seemingly gliding on the water as he centers his attention on the lampent and, after a moment’s hesitation and positioning himself in a fighting stance, lets loose a stream of water.
Although it connects, just as ďAlin said the attack has little effect, only barely dampening the flames of the lampent.
I shall take care of it.
I once again begin to allow the illusion of psychic energy to form around the lampent, but before I can let out an attack, I see a wave of condensated air – precisely that which one would breathe when exhaling on a cold day – approach the lampent from Althi and surround it.
The lampent, no doubt still wet from ďAlin’s water gun as evidenced by the shine on it that catches the glow of its blue fire, rapidly changes into an icy white, the ice in the blink of an eye covering its whole body before a second, more intense wave of cold air shatters it, and it breaks apart into a million fragments, each dissolving before hitting the shallow waters of the dungeon floor.
I quickly dismiss my illusion of psychic and look around for more adversaries; to my relief there are none.
Chris Christodoulou's Out of Whose Womb Came the Ice?
I take a deep breath and so too does everyone else. Once again the sounds of battle are replaced by the quiet drop of waters from above to the pools below. I try to calm my rapidly beating heart, and while doing so I look at ďAlin and Althi, who share a look of both surprise and pride. It seems that their concerted strike was unexpectedly effective.
Good on them.
As we all take breaths and reform a circle, with Althi pulling out supplies from the saddlebags on Pirth’s sides, I “speak.” I-I apologize for being the last to join. I didn’t anticipate us entering a monster house.
“Was it a monster house?” asks Pirth. “I got here while I heard everyone starting to fight.”
Sneasel, who is chewing on an oran berry, swallows then speaks after Booker relays the message to her. “This wasn’t a monster house… Booker and I were the first here and those ferals were just waiting. All the ones that appeared towards the end came from the hallways; I counted one from each.”
I would certainly not wish to see what a monster house looked like, then.
I looked at the room from the edge, still careful to not step into the water which was still fed by stray droplets from above. There were three passages, one carved into each wall save for the one I was pressed against.
It seems the looming question of what we would do next hovers over us.
I glance at Althi and she is, though tired, nonetheless alert. Still. Regardless, she seems to be pondering the same thing as I, because she does not immediately suggest we go our separate ways.
I look at Booker and Sneasel, who seem to be cautiously silent, awaiting a response. Their feelings have been made clear enough.
I elect to speak. I think this battle shows we work fine together. We should proceed as a team, not split up.
“I- I agree.” I hear Booker say, but for the moment I withhold relaying the message to Althi. I watch her as she seems to think very heavily.
“I appreciate fighting beside you two, but… I still think we should split up. I know we can take care of ourselves, and since you two clearly can also, let’s cover more ground so we’re in here less,” says Althi, though she seems far less sure of her words than before.
I relay Booker’s preference, but it is shot down.
“Arimis, the less we’re here the better. We’re splitting up,” comes Althi’s reply. In her mind the runes appear, the words of I still need to be cautious. Trust me that I read.
I hadn’t considered before how Althi and I would need communicate through words instead of sound, since “hearing” anything would likely make her mad. I recall the first time I reached out to her and said a faint “hello.” She had been driven to fearful tears at that, and I made sure to not “speak” as I normally do since.
I read them briefly and understand. Still she doesn’t trust them, but even if she is loathe to admit it, I sense she is rapidly warming up to them.
I feel within myself a minute amount of joy. Sneasel, the worst possible guildmate to go on a mission with considering our circumstances, is no longer nearly as bad as Althi seems to have anticipated.
Booker, I project to him alone, we shall proceed on separate paths, and I am of the opinion that things will no longer be as tense as they were. Just… please try to have Sneasel not be hostile. And…
I pause and take a breath.
Do understand, the two of you, this isn’t your fault. I am sorry.
A delicate yet simultaneously firm mint voice answers back. I understand… thank you for letting me know.
I feel the voice pause for a second, indecisive as if wondering to ask why, but he does not.
He relays this to his partner, and though I can barely hear that he is even whispering, I realize who can.
I turn to Pirth and I see him let out a heavy snort. Then, rather unusually, I hear emphasize my name within his mind. Arimis, I…
I heard the archen attacking me. I heard the ice shard hit it… A stupid little archen definitely wasn’t going to do anything to Arceus’ chosen messenger but, the sneasel protected me.
I elect to remain silent, and another hesitation before the thought comes from Pirth. Maybe we were wrong, after all.
I am stunned at Pirth’s admittance, and yet he does not speak of this to his sister. Perhaps he knows that to do so, even now, would be futile. Regardless, him calling me out seems indicative that he will not tell Althi what he has heard, likely for the best.
It would be terrible if she thought there existed some great conspiracy against her.
All of this takes but a few seconds, and finally Sneasel responds carefully to Althi. “Okay, we’ll split up to look for the stairs quicker.”
Another lingering moment, and Althi says for our team to follow her, and we begin to walk down the leftmost passage, though I have to walk rather quickly because they cut across the room while I stick to the edge.
Team Brave, on the other hand, takes the rightmost passage, leaving the center one unexplored.
I elect to remain in the back, but ďAlin and Pirth switch places. When I ask, ďAlin responds with a bright smile. “Althi and I want to try that out again, the water gun-freeze dry combo. I want to make sure it wasn’t a fluke, and hopefully not since my water gun is finally capable of doing something.”
Sure enough, as we exited the passage and entered a new room, there was a lone runerigus controlling some sort of pile of rocks, a depiction of some unknown, ethereal dragon whose white paint was splattered indecipherably over the black stone.
ďAlin hit it with a water gun, and it only made it stop moving for a second before it continued to lumber towards us, the stones controlled by the ghastly feral churning up water and further soaking it.
Althi then stared at the runerigus and focused, the air once around her rapidly cooling before it transformed into a beam of condensation that flew across the room and struck the runerigus.
While no doubt it being a rock type would cause already significant damage, I could see even in the low light the droplets of water freeze first. While freeze dry normally covered the body in a snap-freeze – which still occurred, slowing the pokemon and causing it to shimmer – it seemed that ďAlin’s attack, despite being weak, nonetheless dampened the pokemon so much so that the rocks began to expand and, suddenly, shattered, each falling bit sparking into bits of light.
The runerigas fell apart and dissipated in a dull glow, and Althi and ďAlin shared a cheer; their dual strike was indeed effective. Even Pirth, who could not see but nonetheless was well aware of the effect, proudly declared, “Arceus has blessed us all!”
I didn’t know what exactly to say; I was glad that ďAlin felt he was no longer weak, which was of course not the case, but a sort of alien, burning jealousy began to rise within.
Thankfully, it was not something I was forced to contend with, for almost immediately I felt, far away and barely audible, a voice wreathed in a cool mint echo out my name.
It took me a moment of intense concentration to reach back out and sense Booker’s mind, not too far away but regardless much further than I was used to. I reach out and touch it.
I am here, Booker. Am I to presume you found the stairs?
Yes, Sneasel and I did. You’re probably going to have to backtrack, but it's two rooms down from where we split up, down our path.
I refocus to where I am and the rest of Team Eevee are looking intently at me – save for Pirth whose ears are listening to the halls for footsteps – and awaiting something.
ďAlin speaks. “Are you communicating with Booker, Arimis?”
I project my thoughts to the pokemon surrounding me, it feeling so much easier by cause of both extreme familiarity with all of their minds as well as them being in such close proximity, especially relative to Booker.
I am… it takes much more effort to do so over long distances, but I was able to hear him think my name. Team Brave has found the stairs.
“That quickly? Fantastic!” ďAlin says. Pirth echoes his sentiment, but Althi says nothing initially.
“Where? she asks.
A room from where we split. We should backtrack.
I know I shouldn’t but I slowly reach out into her mind, ready to see whatever runes have appeared within her mind’s eye before I stop myself.
Don’t do it. It’s not right. I will not add this to the list of my sins.
I feel even more frustration. How I wish I could enter and know what she truly thinks of me, if she suspects me. How torturous it is to be directly beside a pokemon who flipped a coin, the result determining if they despite you or care for you, and being unable to know the result.
She is too similar to ďAlin and will take offense, just as he first did. The only difference is that she will likely be far less forgiving…
Thus, I do not enter and await her response to us all. “Okay, but everyone stay behind me; I’ll take the lead. ďAlin, just like now you’re second.”
“Althi, nothing is going to happen,” he responds.
She dodges his remark, and says “let’s go.” Although I am not reading her mind, I am still on the precipice of it, and I can feel a wave of guilt wash over it with the emergence of a memory. Ruined Roost.
ďAlin nor anyone else provides any objection, and we fall into line and follow her back from where we came, passing through the hallways and to the room where we started. They walk through the center, each of their steps creating ripples, whereas I, of course, stick to the edge.
I am forced to rush myself as I hurry along, and Althi takes note. “Arimis, I think this might be a bit too much, avoiding the water like this. Look, it’s shallow!” she says, tapping her paw multiple times, each making a small splash. Indeed, at no point does the water seem more than two inches deep.
ďAlin gives me a look of concern at this, and I try to speak the truth without speaking it. I- truly, my focus would be diminished… I would lose concentration on my abilities were I to make contact with water. That is why I would rather stick to the edges.
Althi looks at me as she sees the runes of my speech flash before her eyes and I can sense her brain working at finding an explanation. Finally, she responds. “I don’t really understand that, but after all I’m no espeon. I’ll try to make sure we engage any ferals by the walls so we can be nearby you, in case you need help.”
With a grin and a nod from her, she presses forward into the next hallway. I glance at ďAlin before he disappears into the shadowed corridor, and I see him widen his eyes in a bit of surprise at Althi’s adaptation on my behalf, mirroring my own.
Of course, although I technically did not lie to her – indeed my ability to properly disguise myself in this illusion would be compromised – I still feel another pang of guilt run through me. I am, once again, deceiving those close to me.
Pirth disappears, and I quickly prance to catch up behind him, entering the hallway. I just wish I could have been born an espeon…
After a small empty room and another hallway, we emerge to a larger room with the staircase in the center once more, where Booker and Sneasel are waiting beside it. Although I am in the very back, I am able to see Althi hesitate for a moment, looking around at the room before slowly entering.
She glances back at us and motions for us to proceed.
“Good job on finding it, guys!” says ďAlin.
“Yeah, thank you,” adds Althi, “we’ll keep doing this for the next floors also.”
After a brief acknowledgement from Team Brave, they once again head up the stairs, and we quickly follow suit.
The next floors – eight or nine, I believe – continue in this manner. The next floor we find the exit and I reach out to Booker, and for another the reverse occurs. By the time we enter the floor which, according to Booker, is supposed to be the one right before the midway point, the ease at my communicating with him through extrasensory has become easier.
Or, at the very least being alerted to his calling out my name. Straining myself like this is tiring but it has enabled me to at least temporarily sharpen my mind and my abilities.
I will have to practice this more later.
We once again split up, and as we meander through the hallways and into the rooms – at this point Althi has us all walk alongside the wall to remain in formation, and when this first happened, I had to admit I was quite flustered – the topic of what to do a the “division chamber” as ďAlin called it comes up.
“Booker mentioned we don’t decide, right? The dungeon does it. Sorts us based off truth or ideals; whichever we value more, right?” he asks no one in particular.
Althi takes a moment to think after I relay this to her; as she is in the front, she is looking ahead for any ferals. Oddly, although the ferals have increased in strength over the course of the dungeon, they have decreased in quantity. The past floor neither us nor Team Brave ran into any. Something Garchomp never mentioned occurring and something Team Brave couldn’t explain.
Finally, she responds. “I don’t know how it determines what our values are, and I don’t know if it even affects the dungeon. But what I do know is that if we can’t decide, then I guess we have to go in blind. We just need to be cautious, is all. Hopefully we’ll be able to be in contact through Arimis.”
Her words seem more lax, less tense. I am tempted to ask her about her thoughts regarding Team Brave, but I decide not to, instead relaying a critical piece of information. Well, by the way Booker explained it, it’s believed that the two separate caves after the division chamber, the Cave of Truth and Cave of Ideals; they’re separate dungeons entirely. I am uncertain if my extra-
I pause for a tenth of a second, realizing what I had just said, but I quickly recover. -powerful communication ability will work.
Althi does not bat an eye, but ďAlin, who is aware of my predospisiton, does. Arimis, good catch.
Barely, I respond as we turn yet another corner, continuing our path through what feels like a crescent. Truly, ďAlin, I wish I had no need to-
I pause for a moment, hearing a somewhat distant but, forward echo of my name, not behind or to my side as I would have anticipated.
ďAlin takes note. Booker?
Yes; allow me to concentrate.
As ďAlin lets Pirth and Althi know, I close my eyes and focus; indeed, Booker’s mind seems to not be aside us, but ahead. I grasp his mind, which is calling my name, and enter. Hello Booker.
This still takes some getting used to… talking with you feels a little different from psychic, from what I’ve experienced.
Did you find the stairs?
Yes. We went in almost a semicircle and found them. If you’ve been walking this whole time, it’ll be pretty far.
Actually, I sense you being ahead. We might be at the opposite ends of a curve.
You mean like a “U”?
What is a “U”?
Even at this distance I can make out a wave of embarrassment wash over the ribombee. Uh, human thing. I see a hallway that might connect both ends, if you see one.
I do. I’ll lead us there so we have less of a chance of running into a feral… have they been appearing stronger to you? Even if appearing less?
Yes, actually, Sneasel observed that. I think it would be best to avoid being in here as long as possible. See you soon.
I bid my farewell and returned to the dungeon just to see once more my partners looking at me.
“Are we backtracking?” asked ďAlin.
No, Booker suggested we press forward. This floor might be one large circle, and if so the path ahead would let us go directly to him. Lessening the risk of encountering a feral.
Althi simply shrugged. “Alright, sounds good. Let’s go get some dragapult horn!”
We pressed onward, with more speed than usual journeying through the room and into the hallway. I felt in high spirits; this dungeon was certainly interesting, but according to the limited expedition reports Booker had mentioned to us, there were no ferals in the division chamber onward.
Why is that? I wondered, not realizing I had, by instinct of asking a question, projected the thought.
Why is what?
“What?” asked Pirth and Althi together.
My apologies; I was simply wondering why there are no reports of ferals in the second half of the dungeon.
“I dunno,” replies Pirth as I hear Althi’s footsteps start to splash into water. “I mean there’s no items so nothing to protect?”
Althi, looking back at Pirth, answers her brother while now ďAlin’s footsteps splash in water, each step lingering for a moment longer than it needs to. “Well, I guess that-”
Oh shit. ďAlin lets out a cry of alarm. “Watch the fuck out! Don’t-”
I look ahead, past Pirth who is at the mouth of the passageway, to Althi and ďAlin who are in the midst of the room. Althi, looking back and reading ďAlin’s face, reacts too slowly. She presses her foot against an item. We were all distracted by my question, and we hadn’t seen that the room was chock-full of them.
It is too late. There are, after all, no items in this dungeon. Each single item shimmers away in an instant, each being replaced by a rapidly-solidifying feral appealing out of thin air. Where Althi was standing, the gummi on the floor is replaced by a towering carracosta, seemingly rising out of the water despite it being impossibly shallow, dripping with dampness as it slowly rises over Althi.
But she does not act. None of us do, for we are all stunned by the cries of acherops and distant flames of chandelure in the high ceiling above. We are shocked by the piles of rocks roaring to life, with the black-and-white gigalith replacing stalagmites while slabs of pitch-black stone with white paint splattered over it in some sick mural rise as runerigas take possession of them. The ranks of carracosta that rise from the deep, shallow waters of the monster house are flanked by scolipede and zebstrika, all of them using their sick, lifeless eyes to gaze at us as they form out of thin air.
The dungeon has conserved all of its energy thus far. This must be its final blow.
I look at my teammates, attempting to gauge their reactions.
Pirth, the closest to me, is stunned by the cacophony of sudden wingbeats and echoes upon the water that assail his ears, each ear twitching one way before refocusing in another direction as the adversaries continue to emerge.
ďAlin, near the front, looks around rapidly, assessing each and every feral that emerges. His eyes reflect a mixture of shock and alarm.
Althi is looking down. She has taken a step back from the carracosta towering over her, her eyes unmistakably lost in thought as she stares at nothing. I see determination plastered over face, but as she looks back at us, I see that her eyes, instead, are dancing with a mixture of emotions, the sheer amount forcing her into inaction as she tries to understand what is occurring before her.
But that is just for a moment. For they quickly coalesce into a single emotion, an ice-cold wrath whose honed edge is sharpened by a painful vindication. She looks at us and speaks, the paradoxical pain and joy of being proven right all along thick with every word she speaks in fury.
Chris Christodoulou's The Face of the Deep
“We’ve been betrayed.”
I sense the endless wave of ferals, each creature another piece of evidence, another painful reminder that I have been right all along, that they wanted us dead, that there was only evil in the hearts of dark types and that being human or knowing humans brought it out and made it so much impossibly worse. I turn back to see the ferals step towards us in unison, a deadly, inevitable wave of death coming one step closer.
To me. To Arimis. To ďAlin. To Pirth. To the pokemon I told myself I would protect.
I have once again been fooled. Tricked. Each feral I see is a reminder that once again I let my guard down and there was a price to be paid for such stupidity.
The carracosta in front of me rears its head back to bite me. Every passing moment, as my pain and anger rose, my body temperature lowered, falling a few degrees with every sob that threatened to escape my body.
With an impossible ease, my emotions soaring above the clouds of this fucked-up mission, this set-up, I let the most natural attack come forward. The air around me drops in temperature instantly and effortlessly, and I press the air forward, through controlling such a sheer, frigid cold chills even me. It envelops the carracosta, freezing its leathery blue skin and rocky armor so it is made unable to move, the freeze intensifying as it is shifts ever so slightly then shatters into endless shards of light, each glittering light quickly fading away representing a feral in the room.
RETREAT appear the runes before my eyes. Arimis.
I pounce on a charging scolipede, my tackle throwing it to the ground, the freeze dry on my skin making it shiver at contact as the layer of ice spreads over its body.
I will do no such thing, Arimis. We will stand and fight.
A zebstrika charges at me, each step throwing up a wild splash that crackles with minute amounts of electricity as I am pressing my attack against the scolipede. Pirth meets it between us, his antlers locking with the jagged horns, the attack creating a blinding clap of lightning that blinds me for a second.
Defend me. I shall reach out to Booker for aid.
My vision clears, Arimis’ words still hanging in the air. I barely have time to think coherently as a chandelure I see above has its flames glow with intensity as its eyes stare me down. Do not. It’s useless. They’re traitors. Attack.
I see from the corner of my eye Pirth cringing from the initial blow, bearing a wild smile. He utters yet another curse against Giratina and his terrible deerling agents who, I see his lips say, is surely behind this, and raises his head. His antlers, still interlocked with the zebstrika’s horns, lift it into the air. It dangles helplessly as Pirth’s antlers glow a bright green and he slams into the water below, dark smoke and a light shower alike erupting from the impact.
The flame from the chandelure is flung at me. I step to the side and dodge it. “ďAlin!” I cry out.
I look back but he is standing between Arimis, whose concentration had just been broken. She is splayed across the ground, having been pushed, and a carracosta whose fins are still glowing a metallic steel color. I can see a light blue plate of armor composed of fish-like scales, normally borderline-transparent but now glowing a dull translucent blue from the site of the impact. Acid armor.
Nonetheless the attack still hurts him, as I can see him wince in pain.
I refocus on the carracosta, but a quick, black shockwave sends it reeling backward, before another and a third make it shimmer away. The attacks came from Arimis.
What was that? I cannot help but wonder, never seeing an espeon attack like that. I once again call out to ďAlin for help with the chandelure, but Arimis looks up instead as he is still reeling from the blow he took for her. She attacks so quickly, the chandelure dissipates almost in an instant, that I am unable to even see the glow of psychic.
I turn back and continue to attack, each tackle and freeze dry expending more and more of my energy, driving my body temperature a little lower each time.
But we are continuously pushed back. With every attack I send out that downs one feral, two more take its place, and I am forced to step back.
I can’t help but look at the empty hallway on the opposite end of the room. No help comes. I don’t know why I would be so stupid to even think that would be the case. My naivety once again got the better of me, and I feel my temperature jump a few degrees lower.
To my left is Pirth, barely managing to stand his ground. To my far right are ďAlin and Arimis in slow retreat.
The orbs. They can change the tide of battle. They can let us escape.
I make a mad dash towards Pirth, dodging attacks sent my way as I finally reach him across the room, calling out his name so he doesn’t accidentally attack me. I open the saddlebag as he stands still, and I look in.
The four escape orbs I purchased in case it all went wrong. Like now.
I start to grab them, but I hesitate when I look back.
ďAlin and Arimis are on the opposite side of the room. From where I was three seconds ago, it looked like it, too, was just three seconds away.
Now it looked like running there would take hours.
I will not leave my teammates behind. They stood for me and Pirth; we’ll stand for them.
I remember the other orb I packed, the blowback orb.
It can buy us some time.
I reach into the bag and pull it out. And as I turn around I see two things.
A scolipede at Pirth’s flank charging at me. I see Pirth stab a gigalith with his antlers; he is too busy to fight. I see, also, a diving archeops, its talons impossibly sharp, rushing towards ďAlin whose fish-scaled acid armor is glowing bright even from here, clearly under extreme tension. ďAlin who is rife with bruises and seems like he is one more attack away from being rendered helpless. Althi is too busy focusing down a zebstrika, but again I fail to see the psychic energy of her attack.
“ďAlin!” I call out with as much force I can muster, my throat inexplicably jumping at that with a strange feeling, as I throw the orb up into the air.
I recall Starmine’s words, their appearance somehow, I now realize, so different from Arimis’ in both appearance and feeling. The position of a deployed orb can greatly change its effect.
As soon as the orb is released from my paws, I am thrown to the ground, hard, as the scolipede rams into me. I fall in the water that rapidly freezes around me, blood flowing from a gash in my belly. The blood almost instantly freezes over as it exits, thankfully blocking the wound.
Still on the ground, I am able to see that ďAlin has followed my orders as a water gun makes contact with the orb and, although weak, it is enough.
A wave of air rushes around us, and I see the creatures mid-flight are thrown across the room. For now, the skies are clear.
But it was less effective on the ground level. The ferals here are forced only a step back, momentarily stunned.
The scolipede looks at me after it staggers back then charges once more.
I pick myself up and take a step to the side, mostly dodging but my shoulder getting a small gash while doing so. The scolipede, however, pushed forward by its momentum, slips on the ice I left behind where I stood, tumbling onto the floor.
I look down at my paws as I reorient myself towards the scolipede and I try to find purchase on the thin layer of ice. I let out an involuntary shiver as I realize. Ice. The water is frozen.
As the scolipede struggles to right itself, I turn back and yell as loud as possible, once more the strange lump in my throat threatening to be let out before I bring it back in and feel a bit colder doing so. “Pirth! ďAlin! Arimis! Get back!”
“What?” I see ďAlin yell back as I glance at him.
I let the cold feeling build, and I feel my body begin to shake involuntarily because of my rapidly lowering temperature and buildup of energy, the two surely being related.
“You especially! Get out of the water, against the wall!”
Pirth responds, “Althi, I won’t leave you here-”
“Pirth, go. You’ll get hurt too. Trust me.”
Pirth lets out a small frown but obliges, quickly dashing aside. ďAlin and Arimis as well, I can see from the corner of my eye, have obeyed my instructions. They are standing on the edge of the room.
The scolipede is back and running towards me. So are other pokemon, splashing against the water as they approach me and the rest of our team.
Damjan Mravunac & Chris Christodoulou's Surface Tension Returns
I shiver even more now as I let the deep, bitter cold throb in sync with my heart. Its abyssal coolness, paradoxically fuelled by my burning rage at having been made such a fool, at having been lied to my face yet again, flows through me. It dances around my body, from my guts to my frosted skin, but I control it just enough to direct it to my forelegs.
I slam my front paws into the ground and shallow water, the freezing energy coursing through my veins erupting outwards. The water I touch immediately solidifies, the ice now encasing my paws painful to the touch even for me.
It shoots outward, the water freezing in a near-instant wave across the floor. It reaches the assaulting scolipede first, and I see that the ice not only locks it into place, but climbs up its body, slowly freezing it up to its legs, then its chest – everywhere where it made contact with water – and, since it had fallen into the water moments ago, it climbs up the side and to the face.
Each instant that passes I can see the freeze dry biting away at the feral until it, in a single burst, fades away into light.
As my attack spreads across the room and imprisons all the ferals in place, however, the damage I dealt to the scolipede does not apply to the rest. My freeze dry, fueled by my anger and self loathing for having been so stupid – the beyond sub-zero feeling enveloping me, making me shudder somehow even more as I press the attack – deals damage, but only where where the ferals were wet. I was lucky with the nearby scolipede for it to have fallen, but for the dozen remaining pokemon, I am not as lucky.
Once all the pokemon on the ground surrounding us were frozen, all of them being danger-close to my team, I let go, deeply inhaling the air after not realizing I had been holding my breath.
I have never been colder in my life. Even as a glaceon, this is almost too much to handle. But I’m alive.
I look at them. The ferals. Trapped. But, like me, alive. All looking at me with a piercing gaze as they struggle to break through the ice.
Am I still too weak? Am I still not strong enough?
Another wave of cold rushes through me. I am tired but it rises.
Really Althi? After evolving. After everything you’ve been through?
It goes once more to my skin, the freeze dry almost an instinct at these heightened emotions, the only way to release this buildup of energy.
You were supposed to be stronger. Something Garchomp would be proud of.
I redirect it, towards the lump that has reappeared in my throat, clawing to get out.
You were supposed to protect your team. Protect those less fortunate than you.
It rises from my throat, the energy and cold I feel coursing through me freezing my mouth, making even the task of speaking difficult.
Vanquish the evils you know. The ones that put your team here.
I persist. It is so cold it burns but the energy within is now past the back of my mouth, now at the tip of my tongue and chilling my teeth. I can taste the anger.
To make sure the pokemon of the world don’t get hurt again. So no one else has to live steeped in lies and deceit.
The attack tears my throat and makes me step back from recoil, but I scream at all these ferals whose existence mocks me, each one simply refusing to-
“DIE!”
My very desire, my frustration and hatred at all this, all of it I let out at once. It becomes real, a burst of energy travelling in a shockwave. The power from the voice I cannot hear connects with all the ferals trapped in ice. The concussive force cuts through the already-weakened illusions and makes them all disappear in a burst of light.
I do not feel cold anymore.
I cannot feel anything.
I step back and find myself against the wall. My paws freeze the rocky ground. I lean my head against the wall and it grows a layer of ice on contact.
I manage to look back, fighting a darkening vision. Pirth, Althi, and ďAlin all look at me, their paws and hooves covering their drooped ears, reeling from my attack. They look surprised.
I smile. I protected them. I made sure I-
Even with my dim vision, I can see the lights from the chandelure close in on us. Too many to count.
They illuminate an equally uncountable number of archeops, wildly flapping their wings as they, in a single wave, a single mass of disgusting feathers and fire, advance.
My team sees it too. They all look and prepare to fight, but can they?
They are out of reach of Pirth.
ďAlin’s water gun is ineffective without me.
Arimis, though powerful, can only attack one at a time.
They realize this, and Arimis steps forward anyways. She steps into the slush of ice that has begun to melt back into water, and I see, for some reason –I really am losing it, aren’t I? – her paws shimmer with each step, the light of the water making them appear red somehow.
She looks up, then at me.
She can’t do it alone, can she?
I struggle to get up, to ready an attack, and as I muster up the energy, as a burst of emotion returns to me, I start to feel again. Very, very little, since I can’t feel my shaking paw press against the slushy floor as it refreezes. All I can feel is, despite feeling barely anything, a cold that overwhelms me.
I look up and see the impending attack. If only I knew blizzard, I could kill them all.
I try to send out another freeze dry, at an archeops since that would almost certainly down it even with me being so weak, feeling so empty and emotionless right now.
The air around me condensates. Barely. I look back up at the archeops. It looks back at me with wild eyes. It’s funny. Pirth can’t see, but his eyes have more life than that.
I try to will the attack forward, against it. I can’t. Emotionally I feel numb, my emotion and rage barely enough to keep me standing. Physically I am just so, so cold. I instinctually take a step back.
I let out a tear. I feel it freeze as it leaves my eye.
I am weak. I am…
My mind begins to speak a lie on its own accord. Sca-
No, you’re not, I think, pushing the lie away.
I cannot be. Will not be. That word.
I take a step forward again. I will not back down. Even if I can’t do anything, I will not back down. I will not be that.
I will the attack again, desperately. But although the condensation around me does not move, the archeops becomes enveloped in a flurry of ice carried by a gust of wind.
Did I-
The frosted wind, going towards me, not away from me, is accompanied a moment later by a pink, dusty wind. It seems almost perfectly meshed with the icy one, the two hitting the archeops hard, making it dissolve into light quickly. Even on the ground I am enveloped in a wave of chill and… and something reassuring, something indescribable.
That wasn’t me… was it-
I look at Team Eevee, and they are equally as stunned at I am at the sight. The strange wind does not take out the chandelures, but Arimis and ďAlin begin shooting them down, with the chandelures being weakened enough for d’Alins’ water gun to take it down. In the distance, at the edge of the room, I can see the fires dissipate as well in another wave.
Okay, they’re alright. I’m not injured, but I am just so tired and cold. I lean against the wall and let out a deep breath and start to shut my eyes.
I need to rest for just a second. The air around my breath condensates immediately, but through the air I can see the source of the attack.
Both a ribombee and a sneasel have their hands in the air, summoning that wind out of nowhere once again, this time seemingly focusing on the chandelures. Sneasel’s long scarf flutters in the wind right beside the human’s little blue cape.
Idiots. They hit the wrong targets. Stupid Sneasel and Booker. They hit the ferals, not us. Their mistake.
I stand back up, but my leg doesn’t listen. I won’t die lying down. I won’t let them finish us while I’m so helpless. But my eyes are already closing, and I can’t beat off their momentum.
Chris Christodoulou's Risk of Rain
I flutter open my eyes, the taste of pecha berry jolting me awake. A wave of warmth overtakes me. I can now feel more, but it still feels so cold. Another bite, the sweet, smooth juices dancing in my mouth. The cold starts to fade away.
I look and see ďAlin looking at me, his armband sagging a bit, now loose because the pecha berry he had stored in there is now in my mouth. He lets out a smile and looks back to others.
Pirth and Arimis appear, both bearing massive smiles mixed with concern.
I start to speak, but then they appear too. Looking at me. I see a sick smile on the sneasel’s face.
I start to stand up, my heartrate already rising as I ready to fight, but Pirth puts a firm hoof on me, holding me down. My heart involuntarily leaps, and a small frost clumps up his hoof before he quickly removes it, a look of concern on his face at the light frost.
But his touch was enough to calm me. I inhale and exhale, trying to think. I continue to lie down and warm up. I look at the words that appear on his mouth as he explains what happened after I dozed off, how Sneasel and Booker used a combined icy wind-fairy wind attack, how they helped clear the remaining ferals and gave us extra orans to recover.
So, they’ve been tricked by Sneasel and Booker… wait, no!
They must be pretending. Of course they are. How could they not see how obviously we had been led into a trap? Sneasel and Booker came around to try to put us at ease after I saved us, giving up supplies just to take them back later.
ďAlin looks at Sneasel and Booker with a warm smile, and I can see on his lips him say the words “thank you; she’s okay.” If I didn’t have such good eyes I would’ve almost thought it was genuine.
I look at the ribombee as well. He notices and seems to almost flinch under my gaze. Rightfully so. I rise to my feet, slowly this time, take a step, and look down. The slush has disappeared and returned to liquid, and when I step into the water it does not freeze over, only gently crackling against my fur. Okay. For now, I can play along.
I look back at everyone and say with a slight grin, trying to avoid letting the venom seep into my voice. “Thank you for helping us. Let’s finish this dungeon. Together.”
A look of surprise flashes across everyone’s face. Everyone buys it, except maybe Arimis, who looks at me intensely, as if she knows I’m deceiving them.
Maybe she is a good actress, too? comes the thought, which amuses me. I don't know what made me think that, since she's way too awkward to act, but maybe that's why it's funny.
From my amusement a smile forms, and I make sure to show it to them so they can think it's a projection of gratefulness to further trick them.
I wonder, for just a second, if it's okay to stoop down to their level. To lie just like they do to us, all the time. But I realize that, to protect my team, I have no choice. The ends justify the means.
That’s why, although I feel happy at making the human ribombee – the one working with a dark-type, corrupting an already-bad pokemon with alien motives – let out a smile, I get the most satisfaction at having fooled the sneasel.
A look of pride flashes across her face as I compliment their concerted attack, and though she says something with a toothy smile, I just nod, not paying attention to whatever she has to say.
Even despite Sneasel living in a den of human tricksters and deceivers, amplifying her negative traits-
My thoughts flash to ďAlin, who is not like them, who can’t be, since he’s kept his promise to stand by my side.
-and despite lying being so ingrained in her heart, she is pretty fucking gullible.
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