The next few days went a little bit like this:
I awake.
The sun has arisen and my Oddish, Petal, pats me once on the head and then goes to bed. Back when we were home in Hau’oli, that meant burying themself in the corner pot, leaves drooping out; here that means nesting themself on the sash so I can pick them up quickly.
Oran Juice is alert as soon as I stir, then he climbs up the ramp, takes a cautious glance around, and gives me a friendly nuzzle. Surprisingly affectionate little guy. I get out of bed.
Lilliane comes out of the bathroom ready for the day. Her Cleffa, Stella, trails behind her, steps light and bouncy like she’s an astronaut in space. Hellos and how are yous are exchanged; did you sleep well? Do you want breakfast?
I slept okay and I do want breakfast, but I’m no good at cooking; Lilliane takes to the stovetop and prepares a pan while Stella cuts vegetables with surprising dexterity. I marvel at her use of Helping Hand: one moment she’s chopping tamato with a long sharp knife, the other she’s salting and peppering the dish. Blink, she has the knife. Blink, knife on its stand. Blink, salt shaker in her hands. Blink, back on the shelf. She hasn’t moved from her spot the whole time.
There’s a knock on the door; it’s Hau; I tie Petal to my chest like they’re a baby on a sling and off we go to the Big Wave Beach dueling grounds.
We step over the tall grass that grew overnight when we leave the motel grounds. Don’t mind that, I tell them, that’s just Petal’s work on display.
Loa the Litten leads in front. Stella makes an attempt to socialize, she bounces up to the feline and speaks to her in her light voice. Loa responds to her in a yowl and a hiss, and Stella gives her a nod and a smile and returns to her trainer’s side. Every walk Stella does this and every walk Loa snaps back a little less.
Three walks in, and Loa lets her stay.
Four walks in and they begin to talk.
We arrive at the Big Wave Beach dueling grounds, and we begin our training.
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The Big Wave Beach dueling grounds were a hive of activity, I found out.
Trial-goers grouped up on towels around parasols in the area chatted among themselves. Those that wished to spectate the battles got to the edges of the four arenas directly and sat or stood there. The rebels among the onlookers sat close enough to let their legs hang onto the arena, and a few did get hit by stray attacks on occasion– that’s often grounds to pause the fight but not end it outright, as an on-stay Nurse came over to treat them and ban them from spectating for the day. Otherwise, the atmosphere was very informal, we found that there’s practically no adult supervision beyond the Nurse, a small kiosk organizing the duels and the occasional food vendor.
We got there, got ourselves registered and got our tickets.
Hau was always quick to socialize. He fluttered from group to group, chatting excitedly with islanders from Poni staying closer to the water, keeping their Gastrodon cool, and then dashing to another group of teens from Konikoni in the latest fashion, groomed Furfrou happily accepting the boy’s pets.
Lilliane, surprisingly, was not one to initiate conversation often with others, opting to stay closer to my Pokemon and I. When people do approach (and they did approach, as Lilliane definitely stood out with her blond hair and light skin and white dress) she directed the conversation like a musician, voice light and airy, dancing around topics she didn’t like.
As we waited to be called in, we occasionally got the chance to spectate the other.
That was very much the case here: Lilliane and I, sleepy Oddish to my chest and Dunsparce in tow, had found a free spot to sit and spectate from. Though many Trial-goers were fine with sitting right on the dueling pits’ strange border, we weren’t so keen on getting hit with stray attacks and elected to sit a few feet away.
On one side of the field, there was Hau in all of his teenage glory, bouncing from one foot to the other excitedly. Hau Halakaua had been here for a while, he and Loa the Litten had already won a fight and the two were onto their second. Here, duelists kept on fighting provided that they kept on winning , which only increased the payout that a potential victor would get if they were to take the reigning champion down. Even from here, I could see sweat dripping down from Hau’s hair and chin.
On the other side of the field, there was Hau’s opponent. A dark skinned Akala island teen boy, backwards cap on head, hooting and hollering and shouting to the high heavens as their pokemon duked it out. He had seen Hau’s previous win and it seemed that he was looking for blood.
The audience was cheering loudly and they were rooting for the newcomer– Hau had already proven his strength and there's nothing better than an underdog making an unexpected victory.
Loa stood bloodied but unbowed. The Litten’s back was arched, panting and Growling heavily, head low and eyes slitted, claws retracted and swiping at her approaching opponent.
Hair wild, disheveled, and slightly scorched, a sprightly Mankey dodged to the side and frantically closed in aiming to strike at her pelt.
Both fighters danced around one another. One was strong and lithe but she was tired, the other was smaller but quick and full of fury.
Mankey jumped back to evade a lunge but the feline pounced again, grabbed the Fighting-type by the scruff, and managed to Swipe at him once, twice, thrice– and blew a ball of fire directly into his face.
It rolled back, beating the flames from its fur with slaps of its paws, and glared at the Litten with frenetic fury. It looked ready to spring in for the kill until its trainer gave an unexpected order. It stopped and released this strange hooting laugh that had my heart pumping in uncharacteristic anger– Swagger .
The Litten who was about to pounce stopped in her tracks and her eyes darkened with fury. Her breaths grew arrhythmic and frantic, embers dripping at the mouth as her claws flexed in the sand. Hau caught on to this– no time to try and snap her out of the confusion, he ordered her to double down and charge .
Sand was blasted back as she shot forward toward the Mankey. I saw it– at the edges of her mouth, true flames, the start of something new, innovation brewing in the heat of battle– until the Mankey ducked under the telegraphed attack then grabbed and slammed her into the ground.
The battle came to a still.
On one side, a dazed Litten crushed against the sand under the paw of the furious Mankey. Hau called out for the move they had been training for all this time – Flame Wheel – and her coat sputtered and burst into fire but only for just a moment, not a move just yet, only a few scorch marks against the Mankey’s paw and fur.
Then the opposing trainer called for a Bulldoze , and the Litten was dragged into the ground.
The match didn’t last much longer than that.
Hau gave Loa a few sprays of potion and narrowly avoided a Scratch for his trouble– but the teen doubled down, grabbed the injured Litten, flipped her onto her back and held her to his chest. He went to shake hands with the victor and I could hear the low growl of Loa from here.
“You know, I think I see the appeal.” I mused aloud.
Lilliane turned to look at me; no words, just a raised eyebrow.
“Uh, listen, I’m not turning into Hau here,” I gestured toward the dueling pits. “I just think that they’re having fun, you know? Loa obviously is a bit of an extreme example, but she clearly needs to let out steam. Petal sees it as training or practice - even OJ is coming around to it, but obviously he’s more interested in the reward than the exercise.” Hugging my legs, I rested my head on top of my knees. “I just like to see them having fun.”
…And despite the danger, your Cleffa clearly wants to fight for you , is what I couldn’t say. No matter how much I tried to bring it up, the ball of anxiety in my throat grew and choked out the words before they could come out. Obviously you don’t want to put her in harm’s way. But what about how she feels? No, that’s stupid, that doesn’t even make sense–
“Hmm,” Lilliane mused aloud, averting her gaze and shrugging slightly. “Practice for what?”
“Wuh, wha?”
“Your Oddish. You said ‘they like the practice’. What is it practice for?”
“Oh– um.” Petal stirred, maybe tangentially aware I was about to talk about their favorite thing– but I put a hand on their head and rubbed the top of their forehead in a way I’d know would put them right back to sleep. “It’s a whole thing. I’ll tell you later.”
Silence returned to our small group.
A content Hau made his way back to our seated selves as another match began down in the dueling pits. Loa had given up, it seemed. Turned into an angry little ball of fur, head tucked underneath Hau’s arm, she had practically disappeared in his hold.
“Hey girls, think you could hold onto my Litten for me?” He gently released her and set the folded ball of fur in the shade I cast. “This one needs her beauty sleep, and some of the guys in our class invited me for a thing. I’ll be back in a jiffy!”
Hau left, and Loa immediately sprung up to her feet to head to cooler sands.
I got to my feet and got after the moving Litten, holding my Oddish close and Dunsparce in tow. Giving Lilliane an awkward apologetic smile, she just responded with a sigh and motioned for me to go after the fleeing feline.
Finding her didn’t take too long.
She’d found an unoccupied parasol away from the crowd and laid on her side facing away.
Slowly, tentatively, I sat under the same shade. Oran Juice followed in my path and slowly slithered up to my side. I saw Loa’s ears twitch in my direction and her limbs tense, but as the sound of crashing waves resonated on the beach she slowly relaxed.
I felt for this Litten, though I didn’t know why. It wasn’t too surprising to meet Pokemon who were aggressive - one just needed to take a few steps into the wildgrass to meet one - but it was surprising to meet an official Starter that was so unruly.
A capital S Starter was something that society had sold us on: the best of the best, cream of the crop, pokemon chosen and trained for their potential and their historical significance to the region. In stories and cinema and comic books, the most popular protagonists always came shoulder to shoulder with something like a feisty Charmander, or a reliable Mudkip, or a noble Snivy. A Starter was a headstart. A Starter was obedient and efficient.
A Starter she was, but a servant she was not.
Maybe any other starter could have handled Hau’s exuberance. This one did, but did not come out unscathed. Still– that didn’t explain what made her beat herself up so.
How could I help her?
“Hey, Loa–” Her ears flicked. “I don’t like seeing you like this.” I swallowed with effort around the big knot of anxiety in my throat. “I know we don’t know each other that much. But seeing you defeated like this, that doesn’t seem right. It isn’t– Hau, he–”
The litten raised her head just a little bit, and one eye glared up at me. My anxiety closed tighter and tighter around my voice like a noose. Who was at fault, here? Did the Litten need to change her mind? Did Hau need to change his demeanor? Was I just overstepping and putting my foot where it didn’t belong?
I clammed up once more, just like earlier. Again. Emotions welled up inside me. My cheeks grew hot and I felt tears at the edges of my eyes.
That wasn’t fair. That wasn’t fair! I just wanted to help!
Beyond anxiety and fear, it was frustration that pushed me to act. It didn’t matter who was at fault or who was responsible– what mattered was that there was a sad Pokemon, and there was something I could do about it.
I felt at the metaphorical noose biting my throat, and I grabbed it.
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“Loa, if–” My noise was cracking, my nose felt congested. “Loa, you wanna prove Hau wrong?”
That got her attention.
She rose to her paws, yawning wide and back arching like she’d just woken up from a great nap, and started to preen herself. Still, her ears were rotated in my direction. She was listening.
“Whatever Hau’s got you focused on, it isn’t working. If you want to learn a new move, you’ll need a different approach.”
I grabbed my phone and looked up some of the sparse phone notes I had on Move theory and Type Energy control - I rued having left my binders at home. “Okay. So, uh, I don’t actually know what you know of the theory, but– Professor Rowan describes three basic modes of aura expression , or how you actually perform Moves: internal, direct and indirect.
“Internal is when you use your unique biology to instinctively do an attack, like your Ember. That’s usually the starting point of many. For you, your fur is flammable and your saliva’s reactive to the air, so the hairballs you spit are an instinctive form of Ember.
“The external mode is when you manipulate the energy directly . No proxies. Make fire out of nothing but your will.” I saw her eyes dilate at that. “Sounds pretty cool, right?” She caught herself, narrowed her eyes and gave a curt nod.
“And then we have the indirect mode. That’s the long way around. It means figuring out other Types through manipulation of a Type you know. This one might just be a little too tricky for you to start.”
And at that she growled in displeasure, OJ hid himself in the sand and I raised my hands to placate her– “Hey! I don’t mean to say that it’s too hard for you!” - It is, though - “You just have to work up to it first. Like Flame Wheel, here, it might have been skipping too many steps. I think Flame Wheel has a tricky external element that wouldn’t just work through your saliva and your fur…”
The Litten calmed down. I got up from my seat in the sand and dusted myself off. I had a question in mind, and who knows, it might be a little too sensitive and so the noose tightened around my throat once more–
“Ahem– Loa, say… before you were a Starter for the Island Challenge, how did you train your control over fire?”
She stared at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before, and for a moment she was going through her memories, a mess of confusing emotions apparent on her face. Slowly, she turned.
Sitting facing me, she lowered her head closer to the ground and a line of Litten saliva formed between her peeking tongue and the sand below.
A little gross. She narrowed her eyes, concentrated, sparks formed at the midway point between ground and lip, and fire spread along the line.
This was good– this was great, even! This wasn’t just letting her biology do the thing, this was actively exerting control over fire when and where she wanted! “Loa! That’s good!”
The Litten perked up and broke out of her concentration at that, straightened and posed proudly. With a brush of her tail over the sand, the small pool of flames on the ground was snuffed.
“Okay, so… obviously you can shoot fire. But have you considered making fire explode?”
----------------------------------------
Days passed.
Battling was confusing.
Mornings at the Big Wave Beach battling grounds were dedicated to my Dunsparce’s training.
The first fight was genuinely harrowing. The dueling pits are noisy, spectators comment loudly, shout over one another, send jeers and cheers and occasional insults. The first time had me freeze up on stage as battle began in earnest. It was only after I heard the first cry of pain from OJ that I snapped out of it and truly got my head in the game.
Battling was still a confusing flurry of actions, especially when finding oneself in the driver’s seat. Orders are thrown by trainers, Pokemon act on their accord and react to the orders and react to their opponent– it all blurred together in a whirlwind of movement and decision that had my head spinning.
Oran Juice the Dunsparce, I found, was a Pokemon that helped me set the rhythm. The Dunsparce was a surprisingly deceptive creature; slow to crawl on the dirt and yet quick to dig into and under the earth, it only took a good stomp to let OJ know he should chill underground so I could find my footing.
Here was a fight against a Grimer of the local variety, iridescent shades cycling as it moved and shifted, bits of crystallized toxins poking out of its mouth. A formidable opponent in any other circumstances. But what happened when you immediately hid in the earth as the fight began, and started to dig tunnels below the Poison type and caused it to sink into the sand?
OJ had a fantastic sense of vibrations through the ground, and just tracing a shape with my finger or my foot was enough to direct him wherever I wished. Then in a burst of sudden movement he could propel himself out of the earth and pummel an opponent with Flails and Mud Slaps, before transitioning out into a Rollout.
Sudden movement was the key word, here. Oran Juice’s best tool was surprise. No one expected the speedy snake.
Except airborne opponents, that is.
That quickly became our Achilles’ heel.
Flying opponents did not produce vibrations through the ground (or so, so very little), and so OJ was very blind to their movements. My Normal-type had to extricate himself fully from his tunneling to locate them with his weak vision, and that cut his reaction time a great deal.
Here was a fight against a Magnemite. Its body chrome and blinding under the Alolan sun, it flew with no regards for gravity and friction. No wingbeat, no displacement of air, just a hum and a hover.
OJ tried to catch it unaware by first locating it, then tunneling deep and spearing himself out of the earth - but he got zapped by a Thundershock when he popped out the first time, then got zapped a second time when he tried to cannon himself out.
Then the Magnemite hovered down to screech an echoing Supersonic into the tunnels and the battle was basically over.
So I had forfeited, and we’d left the pit.
I now roamed the edge of the battling grounds with Oddish in their sling, resting Dunsparce in his ball. I’d reward him later with a snack of his choice from the vending machine, as we’d agreed. Hau was dueling another teen somewhere and there was no Lilliane in sight.
My mind was occupied with worrying battling thoughts , trying to figure out how I could deal with a flying opponent with such grounded Pokemon– because in truth, both of my Pokemon were grounded, Petal had just figured out a range option but against a nimble opponent they’d just be a sitting Ducklett, and—
“Spinnn~da!”
And there was a fuzzy squeeze to my leg.
I kicked out, and whatever was on my leg clung to it still– just a little Pokemon hugging my leg. Small and stubby with soft beige fur, red spots and a confusing swirl stripe pattern around its eyes, it looked at me with a kind smile and then yapped and hugged my leg once more.
“Ayyy,” I heard someone walk up to me, honeyed voice coming up to my ear. “Matsu, you just got hit by the Tax.”
I tried my best to turn around, careful not to hurt the Spinda on my foot, and I saw her. Gangly teen girl in baggy jeans and a beanie, long hair bubblegum pink– Tuula Tuari, one of the Tuari twins.
Last I had seen her, it was at the Tapu Festival with her twin brother chasing after the third of their group, fellow nerd Sawney. I had felt sympathy for him then, knowing that he’d be spending so many months with the twins, and yet I couldn’t help but feel like he had gotten the better deal. It had only been over a week and a half since and yet it felt like it had been months.
“Huh? Bwuh??” I was truly stuck there. The Spinda wasn’t going to dislodge itself anytime soon, and I really didn’t want to hurt it further–
Snap. Snap. “Cool it, Love Tax. You got your fill.” She snapped her fingers a third time and the little Spinda stumbled back and fell– or rather, cartwheeled backwards, then teetered and tottered back to their trainer and clutched to her leg instead. “Sorry about that. LT’s a hugger.”
I felt so apprehensive, still - had I hurt her Pokemon? Did it feel my kick when it spooked me?
“Augh. Fuckin– chill.” She sighed loudly, sneered and held up her hands. “Stop making Deerling eyes at me. I’m not gonna be a bitch to you or anything.” This, I had no idea how to react to. “What are you doing here with the losers, Matsu? ‘Figured you and Halaklaua would have dipped this joint long ago.”
Her Spinda - circus fatuus - grabbed a hold of her pants leg and hauled itself up onto Tuula’s shoulder, narrowly falling on one side, then narrowly falling the other, spinning its arms to correct its balance– then finally found its footing.
“Uhh, um.” I hadn’t really spoken with any classmates but Hau and Lilliane for the entirety of the Challenge so far; I hadn’t gotten any news from Sawney either for that matter. “Well, we failed the first trial.”
“... No fucking shit. ” She whistled, then reached forward to put an arm around my shoulders and I shuddered– “Well, goddamn. I didn’t think you’d fail on your first try, but Hakuna’s golden child Hau Hala-fucking-kaua? That’s a surprise.”
With her arm around my shoulders, her hand reached down to scratch the Oddish to my chest– but a sharp thwack rebuffed her as Petal whipped her with one of their leaves!
Tuula yelped and moved away to shake her hand - despite the pain, she looked at my scowling, sleepy plant with amusement, Love Tax the Spinda mirroring her smile. “Ouch. Alright, then. Lesson learned.”
I moved forward to apologize but she waved me off. I swallowed the knot in my throat and couldn’t help but voice my curiosity. “...Do you know how others in class did? On the trial?”
“Fuck if I know.” She scratched the back of her neck, and sighed once more. “Well, I know, but it’s boring. Abi and Cora didn’t make it, the Mercados didn’t make it, Spencer and his guys are still on Route 2 last I heard, Janice– who gives a fuck about Janice . Didn’t make it. Yeah.” With every team she listed, she counted them on their fingers - so that was at least four teams that hadn’t passed the first trial after the first week, not counting hers and mine.
Tuula hummed, and tapped her chin with a finger. “You know, I did hear that Herbie passed it, though. Good for them.”
So counting everything, out of eight teams in our class, six had failed the trial so far, one had passed, but that left–
Tuula remembered something and her eyes widened.
“You know what’s the worst fucking part ? Did you know that Chloé’s parents brought in a Dragon-type from Kanto for her ? That bitch already has a fucking Starter .”
For a second, I’m back in the Tapu Festival in a cramped washroom on the beach. Two girls come in, one has a Pikipek but the other, I know, has a Rowlet, and the walls close in and there’s the overpowering smell of sunscreen that Chloé wears that sinks into my hair and skin–
I clenched my hand around my arm so hard it started to hurt, and I was back in the real world.
Tuula and Love Tax stared at me like I popped a second head but she was grinning, and finally she let out: “I’ve never seen this face on you before, Matsu. It’s scary.”
For a moment I panicked and I unclenched the scowl that had imprinted on my face - I didn’t want any trouble. And I didn’t want to antagonize anybody - but I couldn’t disagree here. “She’s– she… shouldn’t need it. She shouldn’t have a Dragon that early in the challenge…”
“Shouldn’t need it,” she parroted while making quotation marks with her fingers, “is giving her too much credit. She’s a self serving bitch and it’s only making her head bigger.” And while I couldn’t voice myself aloud, I couldn’t help but smile at the image.
“Maybe you have a little bit of bite in you yet.” And she searched inside one of the pockets in her baggy pants and fished out two beaten up DS’s of all things, her Spinda already making grabby hands at the consoles. “Hey Matsu, do you play Mareanie Kart?”
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And so, this is how the last few days went.
Tomorrow, we take the trial once more.
It was late. Stars in the sky barely lit up the motel backyard, dark shapes only outlined. Where once there was flat coarse ground, there was now a blanket of wild herbs and grass that had reclaimed the space. With trimmed bushes to one side and fence to the other, this was our little private place, and with privacy came the opportunity to re-enact the little ritual that Petal and I had neglected to do for the past week.
My starter prepared for the task ahead from the center of grass. They stretched, warmed up their footing by jogging in place and their leaves spread so they could catch the maximum amount of dim starlight.
I awaited. When they were ready, they gave me a nod.
Retrieving my phone, I turned the brightness function to its smallest setting, and set the volume low enough that only I and Petal could hear, then opened up the music app on a specific track and pressed Play.
A lone acoustic guitar strummed an erratic rhythm.
In the background, other players made themselves known one by one: a bass, drums, an Almian berimbau , the scratch of a turntable. Our feet started to bounce in rhythm.
Tap, tap, ta-tap. Tap, tap, ta-tap.
Strings joined in and set a harmony and a tone - a tone of love and tradition, of revival and renewal, of making much from so little–
And as we followed the rhythm, two of us followed the song in trance. Every beat marked with a stomp, every measure marked with a lunge.
As the vocalist joined in, Petal worked their magic.
With every measure, a lunge and a cloud of spores, with every stomp, a wave of pulsing energy in the ground. Earth honored, and fed, and cherished. Roots connecting with one another.
As Petal and I whirled and twirled on the grass, glowing spores floated around us and into the earth below. Light reflecting off my Oddish’s leaves, swishing here and there with every motion.
Far away in Kantoan meadows, hundreds to a thousand of Oddishes and Glooms played out a similar rhythm, dancing in unison under the night, repairing the damage of battles during day. Growing grass, nourishing earth, a celebration of nature and a stage set for life to sprout throughout the land.
Everything Petal worked for was for this. But for now, this was our little secret.
I saw movement at the corner of my eye and cut the music off immediately.
Petal stopped. The sound of my heartbeat thundering in my chest and my exhausted breath came to me as I stared out into the dark where I saw something move.
There, barely lit up by the stars, was Stella the Cleffa. Lilliane’s partner.
What was she doing there?
Her being away from Lilliane felt more important than keeping Petal and I’s dancing session to the two of us - so I approached her. She looked at me with wide eyes, expression neutral to her face.
“Stella,” I whispered, “It’s very late. Do you need anything?”
The star-shaped Pokemon considered my words - naturally, it was always difficult to convey meaning between Pokemon and human - but she just pointed down the path, in the direction of Verdant Cavern. Was she…?
“We can’t just– Stella, you can’t go now, the trial’s tomorrow, and not without your trainer–”
And with no words, a scowl, a shake of the head, a finger pointed at her wrist and another finger pointed in that direction, she conveyed to me what I needed to know. She had to go there, she had to go there now, and she had to go there without her trainer.
I considered it.
This was Lilliane’s Pokemon. In theory, Lilliane was responsible for her actions, Lilliane was responsible for her safety, and Lilliane had been very adamant about keeping the Cleffa out of harm’s way. This had meant Stella stayed at her trainer’s side twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.
But this didn’t sit right by me. All week, I had seen this Pokemon trying to get something across to her trainer - trying to catch Lilliane’s attention, showing frustration, clearly lost in her thoughts - and again and again her pleas had fallen upon deaf ears.
I was so, so afraid of the responsibility and of breaking Lilliane’s trust, but still. Stella had something in mind.
In the dark of the night, only wearing my pajamas and my bag, we approached the territory surrounding Verdant Cavern. The light of my handlight cleared a murky path in front, and Petal steered my way around bushes and loose rocks. Behind me, a bleary-eyed Oran Juice kept guard and alerted me if anything came to close.
Only twinkling lights answered from the darkness, blinking in unfamiliar patterns.
Stella approached, and a Pokemon made itself known.
It was around Stella’s size, simple in shape, a Bug-type with a red shell and six small legs ending in balled gloves. Lights twinkled in the distance, and spots on the Bug-type’s back glowed in unison. A Ledyba.
Stella and the Ledyba approached one another. I tensed.
For a moment, they spoke to each other in hushed tones, the Ledyba’s back occasionally lighting up - until Stella retrieved out of nowhere a bottle. Helping Hand, I remembered, was a move that she had used in the past to move around objects, but was– was that something she could use to store them as well?
Squinting my eyes, seeing Stella handing the bottle over, I couldn’t quite see what it was. But the Ledyba put the bottle behind itself and gave her nod, then turned to show its back. Its head turned to look at Stella.
Its back shone in a pattern. Lights in the distance twinkled in response.
What was that?
Stella observed the situation. Her hands rose and with a finger she traced a circle in the air, then pushed it, and a flash a little too bright lit up the clearing we were in. She did the motion again, and with a smaller circle the flash mimicked the Ledyba’s strength.
She flashed it again, and again, and a fourth time– and the Ledyba stopped her with a shake of its head, and showed the pattern again.