~~~ Chapter 53 - Relic Castle ~~~

Why haven't trains or cars been more popular? Why are they fading out? They're the cause of many mass outbreaks. Most pokemon, usually the more common species, take large, deep noises and rumblings in both the air and the ground as a threat, and tend to flee from such en masse, as if they have some innate fear. Groudon's reign was so long, and so terrible, pokemon species across the board will flee at the ground's trembling.

On the other hand, groudon seems to have taken the large and loud rumblings of boats and trains as a challenge. Between humanity's land-bound creations and Groudon, who wins? The answer is obvious. Thus, groudon sleeps.

In our mountains, I am sure of it, rests a pokemon who, similarly, has slept for hundreds of years, of that, I am sure. With Cyrus' death confirmed, Jupiter, Mars and I will enact our plans and awaken heatran, the pokemon sleeping in the mountain, so it can challenge groudon directly and wipe the slate clean.

- Charon, Team Galactic Commander

~~~

"Whooo!" Benga shouted, as he fell to the floor of the temple entrance, released from the braviary's claws right before they'd touched down. The kid jumped up in the air, throwing out a fist pump. "Flying is awesome!" he shouted, his voice echoing against the Relic Castle ruins in the empty land. It was still early morning and the desert was cool, though the sun was growing high. Alder tossed out a ball, releasing his accelgor. They'd left the rest at camp.

"Take a drink of water now," he told his grandson, tossing Benga his bag. "It's dry and already warming up. If you have to take a piss, save it till the end. When we approach the nest," Alder had said, "you must be quiet and respectful." Together the pair entered the castle, accelgor following Benga, who followed behind Alder.

At first, the temperature dropped when they first went underground and as they traversed the spacious hallways of the old labyrinth. But when the temperature began to increase, Alder's boots crunching on shards of glass from one-molten sand, he knew they were near. The old leader turned down the hallway after Benga nodded in recognition, held out a flashlight.

The crunch of glass as his boots pressed into the ground and the sweat on his forehead, despite being in the shade and underground, told him everything he needed to know. Crunching the way forward toward the familiar warmth, he was beginning to feel the creaks in his bones. The heat would have been too much to bear if he hadn't bonded so strongly already.

"Stay here," Alder said to accelgor, who dutifully took post just outside the doorway. Alder hitched the back up over his shoulder, sweeping his left hand over the lock, to make sure his pack was open. His heart pounded. He'd been there in the Relic Castle, decades before. That exact hallway, even. He'd gone in alone, long ago, and come out with a larvesta. What had seemed to him to be the runt of the nest.

Volcarona lived a very, very long time, and while he would not have any idea how old the ones in the nest-chamber would really be, the thought that there was a chance, however slim, that one of the adults would remember him, was exciting.

Alder took another step forward, sand and grass crackling underfoot. Volcarona were a loving species, afforded protection by the sheer heat their bodies exuded. Most of their natural predators, including trainers, would be dissuaded from the hunt simply because of the blistering temperatures. Sweat dripped off his forehead as he walked into the room. Benga made a step to follow, but the elder held up his hand, stopping his grandson from following.

Benga was excited and having a lot of fun, but in this situation with the pain of the heat and the long lectures beforehand, it was best to listen to his grandfather. In the pause, they both pulled out a water bottle and took a sip. They could hear the soft chittering and skittering of little larvae. That there were no open flames or reflections of flames on the walls was a good sign for making it out alive.

He waved the boy forward.

Accelgor would have trouble in a fight with the moths, should they get angry, but would help the boy escape should things go south. The ceilings hung too low to get much advantage from braviary's flight, and bringing in a natural predator of the moths was simply not a good idea.

Confidently, yet cautiously, Alder stepped forward, the heavy clothing insulating from much of the heat still doing its job. Followed by his grandson, as they delved a bit further in their chambers, leaving all behind except their bags with the prepared gifts shuffling around in the containers on their backs.

The smell of the gifts, even slightly opened, already drew a resting volcarona's attention. It floated forward, out of their nesting area, the sweltering heat increasing as it approached. Again, grateful that he was still affected by the bond between himself and his volcarona.

Still, Benga had not bonded with any pokemon. Not yet, anyway. They would have to be respectful, but fast, as the inner part of the castle baked them like a huge, ancient clay and stone oven. He wiped his face with his sleeve. The duo were covered in their traditional clothing, which did a good job of keeping the heat out and absorbing sweat.

The volcarona stayed horizontal, crawling along the ground, allowing them to pass by peacefully. Alder smiled, putting his hand on Benga's head as they entered the nesting room. His watch beeped. Low Oxygen. High Carbon Monoxide. He frowned. There were only four nests, and each was small. Approaching one, he sat down, crossed his leg, and pulled out a piece of candy. They didn't have time to be too picky, unfortunately. And he wasn't about to risk Benga's life. They could come back another day.

"Wow grandpa, it really likes me!" Benga said enthusiastically, across the sweltering room. Alder grinned ear to ear, keeping himself quiet to stop from scaring the larva. His own little group of larvesta filtered forward, the largest one of the pack inching forward toward the treat, before nibbling on it—"O-ow!" Benga said, as the larva tugged on the boy's hair, munching it.

Alder just laughed, the warmth, the proximity warming and continuing the kindle of his inner fire, a larvesta of his own crawling on his lap. He had told himself that they would take the runts of the litter, but the small ones were far more timid, fleeing to the comfort of the pair of adults lazing in the other nests. Some rested on the ground, ambivalent of the trainers, another volcarona floating leisurely towards the pair, sparks dripping down from their fuzz. Alder pulled his hand back into his lap. The larvesta moved forward, deciding to climb over his legs with caution being overcome with desire for the treat. Once the bug had settled, Alder snaked his arm under the larvesta, repositioning the young firebug so that it would rest on his left arm as he fed it. His watch beeped again. Time was up.

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"Looks like our partners have chosen," Alder said, standing up, bowing to the volcarona watching them. "Come boy, I'm not as young as I used to be. Let's leave our gifts, and go," he said, toppling his gift container over, pouring a pile of meat and fruit. His own larvesta squirmed at the sudden movement, forcing him to grab it, keeping it from falling off his arm, before tapping it with an empty pokeball resting around his neck. He walked, with a brisk pace, back to accelgor. Benga, larvesta on head, followed, his own emptied container in-hand.

Once his watch said the oxygen levels were better, he, accelgor, and Benga took a rest under the shade of a pillar in the afternoon sun. He placed a hand over his pounding heart, taking a massive swig of water. Benga was practically dancing, partner on his head, skin peeling from the oven's burns.

"Take a drink, boy. Now!" He commanded, startling the twelve year old. "You're about to be thirteen. You WILL learn to treat both yourself and your pokemon right. Understand?" Alder demanded.

Benga nodded, "Yes, Grandpa!" he said, his hands vibrating as he pulled out the water bottle from his pack. Alder pulled out a potion he'd brought along.

"You're gonna get burned a lot over the next few years kid. At least until you and your larvesta—"

"Chip!" Benga said, glugging down the bottle of water as fast as he could as Alder sprayed the boy's burned hands.

"Chip? It's already got a name, huh?" Alder asked, then said, "Hold out your hand."

"Yeah, I gave it a name!" Benga said, holding his hand out. A shadow in the sky passed overhead. Alder squirted the bottle into Benga's hands.

"Put 'er in the ball, braviary's coming down."

But it was too late, the second shadow passed, and the larvesta caught the shadow, jumping off of Alder's head, scurrying for the castle's entrance.

Benga was already running after it as Alder called after him: "Hurry! Follow it! Don't let it get away!"

~~~

Lyra yawned, risking pulling her arm from Ho-Oh's neck, flicking her watch, linked to her pokedex in her pack, checking their altitude and generalized location—fifteen thousand feet in the air, and out of the way of the few commercial jet lanes. Her watch switched screens, showing their approximate GPS location. They were two hundred miles to the southeast of shore. Ho-oh was taking its usual leisurely yet conservative pattern. At most, the sight would be a story from a few sailors or blurry video shots. She turned the watch away, re-wrapping her hands around his neck.

The air rushed through her hair, whipping it. Her cap stayed on tight, protecting her ears from the brunt of the roar of the air. She could feel their movement as the bird's wings tipped ever so slightly to turn to the west. Lyra had gained a general sense of the planet's magnetic north, and she had a general feeling of where she was, but those senses were not nearly as detailed or refined as either Ho-oh's or a GPSes. The bird had known, like he always did, either via their mutual cathexis or the instincts and abilities of being a minor god, exactly where Lyra had wanted to go.

She had been riding along his back, hands wrapped around Ho-oh's long neck, as she always did—no straps or safety mechanisms as the surprisingly muscular bird soared through the air. They always enjoyed their time, the two getting carried ever higher over the ocean as they hooked over the southwest of the massive peninsula that she'd been traveling along.

It was freeing, every time, as she looked down from the atmosphere and the bird's rainbow feathers glinted in the light, casting against the clouds in the lower atmosphere. From thousands of feet above, they were lower than the flightpath of the large passenger and shipping planes, yet higher than the small personal planes.

Resting, sharing in the bird's senses, sharing her desire and will, they were unified. Team Rocket and Lookers had all thought the ball, produced by Silph years ago, would be a way of bringing the gods to heel. In a way, they weren't that wrong. But, flying along the clouds, as she was wont to do, there was more to that story. It required a certain type of person, and even then, she'd nearly died. She couldn't help but think about Dawn.

Hoped that somewhere, somehow, the troubled trainer was alive and well. Ho-oh's feather would likely have crumbled to dust. She had almost followed Dawn through the portal. But, looking at Meg, and remembering the pain of her longest partner. They'd both lost something that day. Lyra knew better now. She would help from the sidelines at most. The world could save itself.

Dawn, what did you lose? Lyra shivered.

Ho-oh was a strong bird, and had a very respectable speed. However, being a god, and rarely challenged, Lyra occasionally wondered if he had a lackadaisical sense of time and urgency, preferring long, winding and meandering flights that lasted for hours and days. Their wills were linked, yes, but she had no insight into his mind. And yet, he had somehow always managed to guess what she'd wanted, even if she didn't verbalize it. He had always agreed.

She had, despite the physical changes and the dramatic, then-worrying weight loss, grown dramatically stronger than she was back then, at the top of the burning tower. They curved to the northwest, preparing to pass over Castelia and land in a quiet spot of the woods, trying to stay out of vision in the lower cloudfare. Ho-oh was not scared of his counters. He'd lived a long time. Kept warm by the bird's inner fire, Lyra closed her eyes, hands latched, trusting her partner to fly them to their destination.

~~~

When Lyra awoke, it was, to her surprise, on the grass outside a small cottage, nestled in the wood. Her wrists and fingers were red from how locked they were. And yet, she had been delivered and detached from Ho-oh. Without falling to her death or losing her bag. She smiled. Ho-oh had disappeared, not anywhere in her sight as she sat up, rubbing the sleep off her eyes. Lyra didn't see where the god had gone.

Though it wasn't hard to predict what he was doing. He would be hungry, likely, after a fight. Lyra wasn't worried. He would return. Releasing Meg, Lyra pulled out a stick of food from her bag. Lyra had sent home all her other pokemon by then, and instructed the caretakers to release them all. As much as the fire burned within her, it wasn't a fire that had Lyra chasing after more championships.

Meg, the only other partner pokemon Lyra had brought with her, stared into Lyra's eyes, softly braying as she munched on the nutri-bar. It wasn't much food, dense though it was in raw nutrients, Meg needed three or so before she was full. Meg was a big girl, and ate a lot, so it wouldn't be enough, but the meganium often preferred to forage on her own and soak in the sun for the rest of the calories she needed. Patting Meg on the head, and giving her a hug on the neck, Lyra turned north to the cabin in the thicket of woods, cracking her knuckles and doing some basic stretches. She had to be careful not to push too hard. She was flexible, but made sure to avoid certain twists.

Lyra walked to the front door of the little cottage, stepping over a serious-looking package. It was obvious the man wasn't home, the windows had curtains drawn closed, though she could spot a tiny stove and tiny table where they parted. She knocked on the door, noting the bottom of a shovel to the left, past the window, around the corner of Alder's humble home. When no one answered, she turned her attention to the garden tool, taking a step back and then off the little concrete step that made for Alder's tiny porch.

With one hand, she grabbed the shovel, tossing it up lightly. It was a good spade, with plenty of heft. Lyra left Meg as her pokemon continued to skim the nearby trees, foraging for the rest of her dinner. Guided by the pull of lingering desire and stolen future, she crossed a little thicket and grove of trees. A pile of recently-turned soil rose before her, a small pair of flowers growing out of the soft grave.

Lyra hoped Alder wouldn't be home too soon, but she was strong. Ho-oh swooped down from above, crashing into a tree, toppling it to the ground, causing several pokemon to leave their hiding spots and rush out into the air and land. Ho-oh folded up his wings as she paced around the grave, her heart pounding with trepidation, sizing up the area she would have to dig up. It took a few moments for Lyra to collect herself.

With a quick, directed stab, the shovel struck the dirt.

~~~