Presented with two choices, Sal’s head felt fuzzy. Not that it was difficult for her to decide. On one hand was a pretty nasty punishment or even worse - a deal with the gendarmerie and the government. On the other, a mysterious man who was stronger than anyone she met so far. He was also someone with knowledge about who or what Trix was. Of course, there was a hook. Some unforeseen consequence. A new entanglement or dependency. Given her choices, it was the much lesser evil. Sal found it easier to trust an overwhelming power than the lying henchmen of the crown. Especially when said henchmen tried to lure Sal into an ominous deal with his silver tongue.
"I’m in!" she said.
"In that case, let me get you out of your predicament the old-fashioned way." A smile that gave her goosebumps spread across the old man's face. His eyes sparkled, like those of a passionate collector who added a new toy to his inventory. He reached into the deep pockets of his doctor's coat and pulled out a scalpel. Sal's eyes were focused on his precise and fluid movements as he cut through the bonds. Despite his advanced age, his hands didn't shake a bit.
"We only have a short corridor of time. From now on you will listen carefully to my words and follow my instructions down to the smallest details."
Sal nodded as the man continued to cut through the remaining bonds, that tied her to the bed.
Finally! She was free again.
First, she twirled her wrists, then quickly reached for the clothes Kaito brought her. In the distance, she could hear the sounds of another explosion. Meanwhile, the old man pulled out a Poké Ball from his pocket and pressed the button in its middle.
A gigantic, sinister-looking Pokémon appeared out of nowhere. It reminded Sal of a demon dog. Its dark body, the horns on its head, and the scarred, milky white eye made it look like a terrible foe she never wanted to face.
"--Watch closely, girl,” the old man lectured. “This is lesson number one: the proper use of Dark Aura. Houndoom, if you were so courteous, please?"
As Sal hastily slipped into her pants, she watched purple-black clouds form around the Pokémon. Her eyes went wide. She knew that skill! From Trix! The only difference was that it looked much more dangerous when Houndoom used it. In comparison, Trix's skills looked like a cheap knockoff, lacking the precision, finesse, and intensity that Sal admired in Houndooms display of strength.
Attracted by the ominous energy that suddenly spread throughout the room, Medicham banged the door open, ready to take action against the invader. Sal could feel the Pokémon’s psychic energy vibrating in the air as it pushed the door off its hinges. Houndoom answered with a deep growl and bared teeth. Dark clouds appeared above the gendarme's Pokémon, taking the form of dark and purple bullets. Before Medicham knew what happened to him, he was hit by a multitude of them.
Without further chance to react, the Pokémon collapsed to the floor. Houndoom hadn't even remotely considered giving his opponent a chance to stay his ground. It was another overwhelming display of power. Sal swallowed her saliva. Were all of the old man's Pokémon this strong?
"Dark Aura can manifest in a variety of ways. Ultimately, what it boils down to is that your Zorua must learn how to bend the dark-type energy according to her will. It is a three-step process divided into perception, understanding and – ultimately – the ability to manipulate said energy. Most trainers and Pokémon lack understanding. In my opinion, the art of training combines science, instinct and insight with hard work. Only then will the connection between the trainer and the Pokémon become potent."
Sal pulled her hoodie over her hospital gown and tried to memorize his words. Later on, she would have plenty of time to reflect on their meaning. For now, she had other things that kept her busy. Carefully, the old man pulled Medicham into the room and closed the door behind them. From all over the floor and the outside came calls for help as well as exclamations of shock and surprise. In the distance, Sal heard the sound of sirens. The old man wasn't bothered in the slightest. He thanked Houndoom for his services, called it back into the Poké Ball, and put his surgical mask on.
"What's happening?" Sal asked curiously.
"No time for questions! Pull the hood down your face and stay to my left. We want to distract from your scars. Act completely normal. You're not a patient, you're a visitor. Together with your grandfather, you will leave this place in a brisk hurry, though without haste," he said in a tone that didn’t accept resistance. Sal nodded in silence. She automatically hunched over, pulled the hood down her face and looked at the floor; it smelled of chemicals.
"We urgently need to work on your posture. What you are doing is extremely harmful to your back and neck. Moreover, it shows a lack of confidence or self-esteem," the old man commented.
Sal gave him a scathing look, not bothered to hide her dissense. Still, she remained silent. One thing the old man was right about: this was no time for questions. Instead, she concentrated every fiber of her being on their escape. Her legs still felt wobbly. She felt dizzy and needed to focus every ounce of her being to keep up with her rescuer. When two nurses walked past them, Sal tensed. Aside from a short nod to the fake-doctor, they didn’t pay any further attention.
By now, they had crossed the hallway and entered a stairwell. The old man looked to the left and right before he closed the door that separated the stairwell from the floor.
Hurry up! Our Time is running out! Sal grimaced as a piercing voice rang in her skull, threatening to burst it. Though she knew better, it was impossible to remain silent.
"Who’s that?" she wanted to know.
"Alakazam. You've already met him," her companion commented.
"The Psyker?" Sal asked, burning with pain and curiosity. Only now did she remember that the Psyker spoke to her. Back then she didn’t give it much thought because so much had happened in such a short time. Afterwards, she wasn't sure if she had really heard a voice or just imagined it. At the latest, she had pushed the thought of Alakazam far away when Guillaume had punished her in the aftermath.
"Alakazam is so much more than that. Using the power of his thoughts, it would be child's play for him to dismantle the dumps, if he set his mind on it. In addition, he has the gift of telepathy and can communicate with us across long distances - a handy skill, which proved to be of great use back in the war."
In the middle of the stairwell, maybe two floors down or so, the old man took off his doctor's coat and surgical mask. He folded and tucked both utensils under his arm. After a few steps more, the unequal duo left the stairwell. They entered what Sal suspected to be the entrance area of the hospital. The old man used the opportunity to casually dispose of the items under his arm in a nearby trash can.
A wave of noise swept towards Sal. Numerous people were gathered in the lobby. Quite a few were confused and injured. Sal listened closely, as she walked past them. A multitude of them were engaged in conversations with each other, the doctors or nurses present. Everything gave off the charme of a spontaneous built first-aid room. There were no procedures to speak of, only the will to help the injured.
"… press the cotton wool here. First, we have to stop the bleeding."
"I heard the bang, then the splinters flew through..."
"… are just abrasions. We have other patients who..."
"And then I hid behind the counter."
"… came here immediately. Just knew that help was needed."
"Unfortunately, Amélie wasn't so happy, so we went here to..."
"… shot forth with incredible force..."
In Yveltal's name! What’s going on? Sal wondered.
At least she now knew why the old man had given up his disguise as a doctor. With a suit instead of his lab coat and surgical mask he looked completely different, like a lawyer or so.
We just walk out through the front door. Can it really be that easy? she thought in amazement.
The staff were far too busy tending to wounds, calming patients, recording data and managing the chaos to notice anything. Two harmless figures leaving the hospital in the hustle and bustle hardly attracted any attention. On the contrary: they were a welcome change. It took Sal a few moments after they walked through the door, to realize the extent of the destruction.
Splinters of glass were scattered all over the ground. Some of them speckled with blood. Several shop and house owners were already sweeping up the shards with brooms and exchanged their ideas about what happened with lowered voices and sinister mines. Torn between horror and fascination, they looked nervously at the embattled block of houses in the not-so-far distance. Flashes of lightning danced around a nearby block but soon vanished.
"Is it finally over?" she heard someone mumble. After about a minute of walking, Sal could no longer bear the tension.
"Shit on me. What just happened?!" Sal asked in a hushed voice. Suspicion was written all over her face. She was sure it wasn’t coincidental that the old bastard had appeared in front of her room while some shit was going down.
"Strictly speaking, you’ve witnessed the results of a diversionary tactic, which was of tremendous help for us to make you escape the clutches of the gendarmerie," the stranger said jovially. They continued their steps in the opposite direction of the so-called diversionary tactic. A tactic that resulted in burning houses, injured people and several blocks full of broken glass. Even Sal realized his means were by no means proportionate.
"However, if we delve into the details - which, I would like to emphasize, are extremely interesting - we will find that a Magnezone's Boomburst, as well as its extraordinary electrical attacks, are responsible for the destruction of a power generator. Furthermore said Magnezone hit on the headquarters of the nearby gendarmerie. The cheeky rascal can hardly be stopped, when he receives secret support from Alakazam," the old man added with a chuckle.
"Wouldn't it have been enough to take out Kaito?" Sal wanted to know.
The old man raised his left eyebrow.
"Oh, I didn't know you were already on a first-name basis." He clicked his tongue. "Let me guess, at first he seemed quite friendly to you. Helpful, interested in you and your life. What hobbies you have, what your favorite colors or Pokémon are, and all that."
Sal knew that her look revealed more about her encounter with the gendarme than she would have liked.
"Perhaps it reassures you to know this to be a standard interrogation technique. There's hardly any shame in falling for such a skilled and well-educated, good-looking young man."
"That's not what happened!" Sal hissed with suppressed anger. "Oh, and if you keep avoiding my questions, I won’t put up with your shit. I'll simply disappear the next side-street."
No need to follow the whimps of a madman, she thought.
"That would be extremely disappointing since I've made every effort to arrange a reunion between you and your Pokémon," the old man said. Sal paused.
"You know where they are?"
Apparently uninterested in their conversation, the old man continued on his way. It was infuriating! Why didn't he answer her?! Sal felt, that something was up. Why did Kaito only speak of Corry? Was it all a bluff? Had the old man really found her Pokémon? They were still on a busy street filled with anxious people who tried to seek shelter, go home or find their loved-ones. The atmosphere became calmer, the further they got. Still struggling to keep up with her rescuer, Sal finally gave in. Afraid of being overheard she spoke as cautious and quiet as she could bare. Her words dripped with hardly suppressed anger.
"Okay, I'm gonna play your game. You make the rules, I follow. Got that. So, please answer my question. Where. Are. My. Pokémon?"
"Lesson two: Side streets are off-limits. They are lonely and deserted and present your pursuers with the opportunity to take you out without causing a disturbance. You want to move in crowds; preferably accompanied by Zorua to keep your cover. The gendarmerie now knows what you really look like. An illustrator will have already made a drawing of your face and burn scars. Your best protection are therefore your Pokémon and their special talents. What pity it is, that you can't use either one or the other properly; let alone train Zorua the way she needs. Admittedly, I didn't think you would get caught as soon as you did, even though it was purely a matter of time. Which makes it all the more fortunate for you that Alakazam insisted on keeping an eye on you. Ultimately, your predicament is an inevitable consequence of your rash actions - I knew from the beginning something like this would happen. Hence my warning, when I visited you the other day.”
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
"A warning looks different," Sal hissed.
"I’m well aware you wouldn’t even try to listen to me without a proof of strength. Accordingly, I decided to display a bit of my prowess; including a well-dosed pinch of drama. Not without reason, as it now turns out. To Guillaume, you are nothing more than a tool. A bit uncomfortable, but helpful if used correctly. Taking into account your current circumstances, we can assume that you have become a liability. You probably know the saying 'the nail that sticks out gets hammered down.' We are both aware of Guillaume's nature. This man doesn't show any interest in fixing a broken tool. Hence, he didn't rush to your rescue. Unlike me."
Sal pressed her lips together. Thinking and walking at the same time strained her.
"As far as I can tell, you’re someone who rather needs to see to believe. Which brings me to the question burning in your mind and heart: It will take us a while to reach our destination, where you can reunite with your companions," the old man commented. Seemingly aware that Sal’s powers were gradually leaving her, he pointed to a station.
"This way. We will cover the rest of our way by tram and then treat yourself to some rest."
It was the first time for Sal being so far north in the city. The residential area where the old man had taken them was like another world. Everything was cleaner: the air, the streets, the people. Houses were orderly built and taken good care of. Fewer people roamed the streets. Also, they were much better dressed than their fellow citizens to the south or in the center of Lumiose. With wide eyes, Sal followed the old man to a small and inconspicuous apartment.
Sal sharpened her senses, when he opened the door and invited her in. What if it was just another ambush? Still, she mustered the courage to step in.
Not even a second passed after the door was closed when a ball of dark fur jumped out at her! Sal caught Trix in the air, failed to keep her balance and fell to the ground, accompanied by a heartfelt laughter of relief.
"You're alive!" Sal shouted overjoyed. Trix fell onto her chest and joyfully snuggled up on her companion. Sal felt the Pokémon's rough tongue rubbing against her skin.
"Stop! Stop it!” she giggled. “I'm happy to see you, too!"
"She was sick with worry, you know?"
Sal heard a new voice. Surprised, she looked to the side and met the warm gaze of a woman with sharp features. Somehow, she reminded Sal of a hawk. The woman was probably about half the age of Raymond and twice as old as Sal. She was comfortably dressed and had a charisma that resembled Vivienne's: friendly and strong-willed. One look was enough for Sal to know, that the woman was much more trustworthy than the old man. But how did she fit into the picture?
"It's nice that you're well. Mh, would you like a cup of tea? Or do you like hot chocolate more?"
"Let her some space to breath, Victoria. We still have important things to discuss and this is neither the place nor the opportunity to inquire about her drinking preferences," grumbled the old man. He had closed the door behind him.
"Look at her, Ray. The poor thing is spindly, half-starved, and just left the hospital. Where is the hospitality that you normally boast so much of? Mh?"
The old man - no, Ray, Sal corrected in her thoughts - sighed resignedly at the sight of the playfully pouting Victoria.
"As you may well be aware, it has been an eternity since I received visitors. Maybe my hospitality is a bit rusty."
He clapped into his hands.
"Well, so be it. The kitchen will probably be a better place for our conversation than the hall; despite how tastefully it is furnished."
Only now did Sal notice the coat rack and a bench where one could sit down to take off one's shoes. Before they could react, Sal and Trix were dragged down the hallway by Victoria. Under a torrent of words, they were ushered into the kitchen. Sal didn't know if she could handle hearing the woman muttering 'that poor thing' one more time without freaking out. Even, if she lacked the strength to be truly angry right now.
The kitchen had a clear, functional layout and was meticulously cleaned. Sal couldn't find a single speck of dirt or dust. Four chairs were evenly spaced around the square table, on which a green tablecloth laid in the middle, providing a pleasant accent. One look at the cupboards and cooking utensils told Sal everything in the kitchen had its rightful place.
Trix jumped onto her lap, not a moment after Sal sat down. Suddenly, a pleasant feeling filled Sal’s heart. She knew those were Trix’s feelings, as well as she knew, that neither she nor her Pokémon were willing to be separated once more. Not even for a blink of the eye. Noises of clattering cupboards and pots filled the background.
"Where are Spooky and Corry?" Sal interrupted the peaceful going-ons of Ray. As far as she could tell, the old man warmed milk in a pot. Victoria leaned against the door frame. The unknown woman lowered her eyes and stared to the ground.
Why is she avoiding my gaze? wondered Sal. Her thoughts were interrupted by Ray.
"Haunter is safe. He's hiding somewhere in the house, probably still afraid to meet Houndoom," he said without a care for the world. The milk began to bubble.
"And Corry?"
Ray removed the pot from the stove and poured in a dark powder that discolored the milk. He carefully poured the contents of the pot into a cup. He managed to do so without spilling a drop.
"You’ve had it hard. It is better to drink a few sips of this to strengthen yourself. We can always talk afterwards."
He handed her the cup. Sal grabbed the handle and inspected it in suspicion. A sweet fragrance rose from inside the cup. The whole setup didn’t seem right. A voice inside her head screamed at her that something was very wrong. But her dizzy brain couldn’t connect the right dots.
"What is that?" Sal asked the first question that came to mind.
"Hot chocolate," explained Raymond, only to be interrupted by Victoria.
"Have you never drunk hot chocolate before?"
Sal shrugged her shoulders and looked at the woman with an expressionless face.
"By Xerneas! Drink! It's delicious!"
Is this some kind of test? Sal wondered. Her lips were still cracked. Carefully she brought the cup to her mouth and took a timid sip. It was hot! A rich and warm flavor unfolded inside her as the sweet drink ran down her throat. Not knowing if or when she would be able to enjoy hot chocolate again, Sal decided to greedily inhale the rest of the cup, torn between basic distrust and the desire for more. She ignored Victoria's stifled giggle and drained the cup with a third, strong sip.
"It’s good, isn't it?" Victoria grinned.
"It was okay," Sal commented with feigned composure. Gradually, the day's exertions were noticeable. She stretched out her arms and yawned. Along with the warmth of the hot chocolate, tiredness spread through Sal. A suspicious voice in her mind wondered whether Ray had secretly mixed a sleeping pill into the drink, but she was too exhausted to pursue those thoughts.
"So, where’s Corry?" Sal asked sleepily. Victoria pressed her lips together and looked down at the floor again. Her silence filled the entire room and hung heavy in the air. The voice in Sal's head screamed again.
Tic.
Tac.
Tic.
Tac.
The kitchen clock's second hand moved constantly. It was the only source of sound. Sal ignored the mild pain as Trix's claws dug into her thighs. Trix's joy about their reunion was replaced by a feeling of having failed. Sal immediately sensed the dramatic change in her Pokémons emotions. Shame, sadness and fear washed over Sal. Trix was anxious. Why was she anxious?
Tic.
Tac.
Sal's heart began to pound. An uneasy feeling took possession of her. Why didn’t anyone say anything? Why did the gendarme look so embarrassed? What was the meaning behind Victoria's pitying expression? Why was Trix feeling guilty?
"You have to be strong now," Ray’s voice felt surreal. Kind of booming, even though he spoke quietly. Sal breathed in deeply. Her chest constricted. She instinctively knew how those talks went down.
"When you were arrested..." he began to explain but stopped himself. Icy cold spread through Sal's veins. Her heart was a heavy lump that slid down to her feet. No, it couldn't be!
"In the interest of regional security, the special unit is authorized to..." he broke off again.
"I am deeply sorry, Sal. It was impossible to save Salandit. Your Pokémon died while trying to protect you."
"No, that can't be." Sal replied. She felt paralyzed. In shock. Her stomach churned. As if Guillaume had plunged a knife into her gut and slowly turned it around. Searching for help, she looked at Victoria, whose eyes were still glued to the floor. Sal’s body began to tremble. Something pleading was in her eyes when she looked at Ray.
"I mean... Who says that?! I’m sure, Corry was just hiding. Trix has created an illusion and--"
"I've seen it with my own eyes. Salandit... Corry... is dead,” said Ray, crushing her hopes with the force of a wrecking ball.
"YOU’RE LYING!" Sal yelled at him angrily. She stood up so forcefully that her chair tipped over and crashed onto the floor.
"This is just one of your tricks! Corry wouldn't just..." Her voice broke off.
Raymond started to answer but stopped when Victoria shook her head.
"You're lying! Both of you!" Sal screamed angrily. It was a trick! It HAD to be a trick!
Her chest trembled. Her breathing quickened.
"I want you to take me to Corry. Now!"
Her legs were soft as pudding, threatening to give way at any moment. Sal didn't know when it happened, but suddenly Victoria's warm hands rested on her shoulders with a painful gentleness. Sal pushed the older woman away. Although Sal sensed that Trix wanted to choose a different course of action, her companion rushed to help. Zorua positioned in front of Sal, teeth bared, and began to growl. Placatingly, the older woman raised her hands and spoke with empathy in her voice.
"Sal, am so sorry but your Pokémon is dead. And it's a perfectly fine reaction to be in shock and denial; you don't want to admit what happened. But you know, Raymond and I, we can help you. We’ve already been in your situation, lost comrades."
"Enough of it, Victoria. She played with fire and got burned. Nobody can take away this pain from her and it is necessary that someone tells her the harsh truth."
Raymond looked sternly at Sal.
"Sit down!"
Although she didn't want to, Sal's body automatically followed Ray's authoritative voice.
"Lesson number three: Every action requires a consequence. They are inevitable, whether we like them or not, and we have to face them. What makes the difference is how we choose to deal with them."
Sal felt empty, apathetic. Ray's words felt worse than the cane blows that tore her back when she was still in the orphanage.
"It was an exhausting day for you. Victoria will now take you to your room, where you can take a rest. The windows are secured with a barrier, meaning attempts to escape are a pointless waste of time and strength. There is nothing you can do against Alakazam. I suggest you have something to eat and drink before you start to reflect on your actions and their consequences. If you dare to do that, of course."
"Am I a prisoner?" she asked, devoid of all emotions.
"Not in the slightest, though we are in a predicament. In your current condition, you are a danger to us all. If it makes you feel better, feel free to call it 'preventive detention'. Once you are back in a stable, mental state, you can leave and go wherever you want. This is a promise."
Sal was about to object, but Raymond's piercing gaze made clear their conversation was over.
"Don't hold it against him."
Victoria took over. She dragged Sal to a small room. It contained a bed, an oversized wardrobe and a sideboard with a vase of flowers and a phonograph in it. The sideboard featured two large doors on the left and right sides and three drawers in the middle. Later, Sal found out they were locked. At the moment, however, she was preoccupied with enduring Victoria's uninvited stream of words.
"At the bottom of his heart, he is a good person, you know? Raymond has just--”
Victoria sighed.
"--he has simply experienced too many terrible things. There's only so much a person can endure without breaking apart. It's been over fifteen years since he's shown any interest in anyone at all. You can consider yourself very lucky. Well, not that it bothers you right now, I guess."
Sal took note of the new information but didn't process it. She felt hollow, like an empty shell. While Victoria rambled on about the oh-so-great Raymond, painful question surfaced on Sal's mind. Was he right? Was she to blame for Corry's death? Could her Pokémon still be alive if she...?
Apathetically, Sal collapsed onto the soft bed. Victoria's words of sympathy became an indistinct noise in the background. Only the click of the closing door made Sal aware that the older woman had left. She didn't care about it. Neither about her rescue nor the lessons she received. Neither about Raymond nor Victoria. Neither about the bittersweet taste of hot chocolate.
Her Pokémon was gone. Forever.
With every passing second the silence became more and more unbearable. The unusual smell of wooden furniture felt strange and somehow wrong. Everything about this place did. Sal's only support and comfort was Zorua's soft fur. The whimpering Pokemon had long since sought her proximity. With a glazed look and mechanical movements, Sal pulled Trix into a hug.
Spooky's figure emerged from the shadows. The ghost Pokémon and its trainer's didn't always agree, but when Sal met his gaze and looked into his sad eyes, she felt closer to Haunter than ever before. A deep sadness lay within the Pokémon. Maybe Sal could embrace the new form of her protector after all.
Out of nowhere, an illusion of Salandit appeared. With joyful eyes, the lively reptile jumped from Sal's shoulder, scurried around the room, climbed over the furniture, and spit out small flames. Sal's heart skipped a beat. She wiped away tears she hadn't noticed before and grinned at Trix.
"Look at our little troublemaker. She's got nothing but nonsense on her mind again."
Trix's pitying expression dispelled any remaining doubts in Sal. She clapped her hand over her mouth. Tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn't fight them back. Salandit's illusion began to fade.
“Please don’t stop,” Sal whimpered, shaking her head in denial. Her whole body trembled.
An image of the joyful Salandit filled the room with life once more. Sal sobbed in despair. Memories of their time together came flooding back. The cold nights when Corry had warmed Sal and Trix with her flames. The joint raids and their fights against inexperienced trainers or troublesome Pokémon from the dumps. Now, a sense of illusion was all that remained of her.
Overwhelmed by a cold and unforgiving reality, Sal's emotions forced their way through. Slowly but inexorably. One tear became two, and a trickle turned to a stream as Sal was swept away by an uncontrollable current of loss and sadness.