Soup 3.10

Aaron Fulan

Oldale Town, Hoenn Region

We jumped at the chance to tour the Oldale Ruins. Not just because Artoria and Durvasa were looking forward to exploring the cave system, but because Onale was a very persistent girl.

I hadn't quite realized just how grating a shonen protagonist could be until I'd met her. And yes, despite that medieval tavern bard theme she had going on, she absolutely was a shonen protagonist. The moment the mayor placed the ribbon between Jeanne's horns and dismissed us, she yanked me back by the collar and demanded I give her my number. Not in a romantic way either, she swore to "use this defeat to ignite the blazing passion in our hearts!"

She then ran off so her combusken could go punch a palm tree… I didn't even know there were palm trees near Oldale…

It was honestly a little unnerving seeing someone that enthusiastic in real life. It was like she embodied every stereotype about hotheaded gingers and fire type trainers, rolled them together in one Frankenstein joint, and kicked it up to eleven with a sprinkling of crack for spice.

'I feel that you are being particularly uncharitable towards her, my lord,' Artoria's voice rang like a pure bell in my mind.

'She told us about her tragic backstory within ten seconds of actually meeting her, gave me her dead father's bandana so she could "win it back" after she proved herself, and was considering going after badges too just so she could be my "one true rival in all things pokemon,"' I deadpanned.

'Okay, so she was a bit… much… but are we not also shonen protagonists? We too train diligently and believe in the power of friendship.'

'We don't go around declaring eternal rivalries with everyone we meet.'

'True, but only because my rivals are on my team. And, you do constantly say Jeanne and I eat more than we should. Was that also not a trope?'

'Look at you being self-aware.' I snorted in amusement as the four of us waited in the atrium alongside a gaggle of other tourists and students on field trips. The atrium was rimmed on all sides with stalactites and stalagmites, some of them sporting little lamps to see by. The cave system had already been thoroughly explored almost a century ago and now served as a tourist trap that also educated people on geology and pokemon ecology.

Jeanne ambled over to a particularly shiny bit of limestone, possibly with some quartz mixed in, and gave it a long lick. Then to everyone's surprise, she let out a delighted little bleat and gave it another lick, and then another. Meanwhile, Durvasa was eyeing a large stalagmite with murderous eyes.

I sighed. "Durvasa, come here. You can't punch any of the stalagmites."

"Man-mankey," he protested, miming a textbook karate chop.

"Yes, I know you want to practice, but limestone isn't very hard to break anyway," I said, stroking his ego. In the short time I'd known him, I'd found it to be one of the best ways to deny him something while avoiding a tantrum. "These flimsy things can't stand up to a fighting type so don't bother."

"Man…" he groaned, sizing up the stone pillar with new light.

He could break a smaller one with ease, maybe even one as thick as my torso. I didn't want the organizers getting on my case though. Pokemon up to human-size were permitted, provided they behaved, and "not damaging the terrain" was most definitely included.

"Hey, man, what's your flaaffy doing? Is it stupid?" one of the students on tour, a boy of about nine, asked me.

"She, is probably smarter than you," I said, eyes rolling. Jeanne's behavior looked strange to most but wasn't actually uncommon among herbivores. The lovely nurse in Verdanturf who taught me about chewing cud also told me to expect behavior like this. "She's licking the rock to get salt and other naturally occurring minerals that she doesn't get enough of in her plant-based diet. Did you know you could do that?"

"Well, no-"

"Then I guess my flaaffy is smarter than you, eh?"

"Yeah, well, flaaffy are lame and you're girly for owning one," he huffed back.

I stooped down and held out my hand. Sure enough, I felt Artoria's tummy collide with my palm half a second later. She'd been mid-leap, spoon brandished and ready to club the little shit. "Yeah? Guess I'm girly then," I replied with a carefree shrug, one eye on my kirlia.

'He deserves it,' she said with a pout. 'He mocked both you and my sister. A good wallop to teach him manners would be doing him a favor.'

'What did I say about fighting idiots?'

'That I can't fight every idiot in the world, or I'd never be through.'

'Good. Now what does it say that my kirlia has a shorter temper than Durvasa?'

'That I am loyal and have no patience for fools?'

I let out a snort as I walked over to my other two pokemon. 'Self-awareness, thy name is Artoria…'

'Know thyself and know thy enemy. You need not fear the outcome of a thousand battles.'

'Are you quoting bastardized Sun Tzu at me?'

'Your old world had many wise sages, my lord. Perhaps we should write their teachings down for Durvasa?'

'I don't know The Art of War by memory.'

'But surely enough of the teachings of sages and great generals remain to write a compilation? You were a swordsman even then and your world did not lack warrior-poets.'

'True enough. I'll think about it. But that'd mean teaching him to read.'

'Hmm… perhaps literature and calligraphy can be used to enhance his focus?'

'Maybe. It's something to consider.'

I wrangled my team and told Durvasa to exercise his mind by learning from the scholar who'd show us around. Surely, the path to sagehood involved more than just breaking rocks against your fists.

Before long, our tour guide stepped into the atrium. He was a somewhat plain man, neither handsome nor ugly, who dressed in sturdy cargo pants and a tan vest filled with pockets containing who knew what. He also had a hardhat with a flashlight strapped to his forehead… for some reason… Maybe he thought it'd fit in with the aesthetics?

"Hello everyone, my name is Professor Alden Umezu and I will be your guide through the Oldale Ruins. Over there behind you are my assistants, Sam and Mike," he said, pointing to two older boys I hadn't paid attention to. Sam looked to be in his early twenties, a typical college student. At his feet was a marowak that, instead of a single large club, carried two bones that it spun like a pair of batons.

Mike was noticeably younger, maybe two or three years my senior. It was a strange quirk of this world that pokemon professors often chose apprentices by personal preference regardless of age, much like master craftsmen did during medieval times. A large golbat rested on his shoulders, drawing several admiring eyes from students.

"Before we dive in, there are some ground rules we need to go over. First, take only memories, leave only footprints. Second, do not feed wild pokemon. Third, do not leave the path we've marked out. This is for your safety as well as the sanctity of the natural wonder beneath our feet. Fourth, and most important, do not battle." I could've sworn he sideyed my mankey at that. For his part, Durvasa looked mildly sheepish at being singled out, though nowhere near enough to be repentant. "Cave systems are delicate at the best of times and while we allow smaller pokemon, if we feel that they are too excitable, we will ask you to ball them. Any questions?"

"No, professor," the chamber echoed.

"Good, then let's be off." We began walking down a long tunnel that gently sloped into the earth. The pathway remained paved with bricks but the walls quickly gave way to natural stone worn smooth by millions of years of erosion. As we walked, the professor began to narrate. "The Oldale Ruins are called that because they contain the remnants of at least one ancient civilization of humans, but it's a bit of a misnomer in my opinion. In reality, the civilization ruins occupy a very small section of these caverns, with most of the rest being claimed by pokemon of one stripe or another.

"The caves themselves are primarily limestone structures, which means they are formed from calcium carbonate, the same material that comprises many shells of pokemon and animals. Clamperl, cloyster, and your everyday oyster shells are all made of this stuff. Can you imagine? This right here is proof that at one point, all of Oldale used to be beneath the sea!" he said, spreading his arms wide.

I was no great scholar, but it was refreshing to hear from someone who was so genuinely passionate about his subject. At my feet, my pokemon looked around them with looks of wonder as giant stalactites and stalagmites that dwarfed grown men came into view. They were worn smooth, so smooth that they glistened in the light of the torches.

'My lord, does that mean we are walking through a mass grave of made up of water pokemon?' Artoria asked, a little disconcerted by the notion.

"Professor," I called. "My kirlia would like to know if that means we're walking through a graveyard. Are ghost pokemon more common here?"

He coughed awkwardly. "Ah, not necessarily. Limestone can form when calcite or aragonite precipitate out of water. It doesn't have to be derived from biological sources. However, we have found several fossils of shellfish in these caverns."

'There you go, Artoria, anything else you want to ask?'

'No, my lord. It is fascinating to imagine a world that old.'

As we walked, we passed by several unique rock formations. One looked like a rippling waterfall, polished into such a fine shimmer that looking at it from different angles created the illusion of rippling waves. Another was called the "Three Sisters" because the water pooled and carved away at a mound of limestone until it split into three peaks, each more than twice as tall as a person and shaped like three onix wrestling. They looked cool, but there was no sign of human habitation. Hell, even the zubat colonies seemed to leave this section of the cavern alone, likely bothered by the bright torches interspersed along the walls.

Then, as if slowly going back in time with every descent, we started to see the things ancient civilizations left behind. At first, it was a single rust-red spoon embedded into a wall, one that had been made from a carved crawdaunt shell according to the professor. Water had once pooled there, leaving limestone deposits behind when it evaporated until it trapped the utensil completely.

Then we saw the statues.

"There are a lot of water pokemon," one of the teachers who'd been wrangling the gaggle of children called. "Did the civilization worship water pokemon? Or maybe the sea?"

"Perhaps? Or perhaps not? It's still just one piece of the puzzle I'm afraid. Truth be told, we know very little about the ones who made these statues." Professor Alden smiled wryly. He gestured to the figures of various pokemon. There were corphish, crawdaunt, feebas, and milotic in various poses, some graceful and others menacing. A particularly detailed tentacruel reached out towards us as if to sting. "In fact, we don't even know their names. Though these statues are remarkably well-preserved, the truth is that they weren't all neatly arrayed into a single corridor. Many were moved here for exhibition purposes before my time."

"That seems unfortunate. What if their placements meant something?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, I agree. In fact, we're headed to one of the few places that remain wholly undisturbed. My assistants and I found a tablet a year back which described a room that could link the past and present."

That sounded familiar. Perhaps it was a room full of fossil pokemon? I remembered Grandpa Canyon in Kanto where a cave system filled with kabuto, omanyte, and even an aerodactyl could be found. Were we about to enter Hoenn's equivalent?

That got the children interested.

"What was in it?"

"Was it a cool pokemon?

"Did you even find the room?

The professor coughed to silence them. "Yes, as I said, that's where we're headed. The inner chamber of the ruins contain what I like to call Mirror Lake. It has been a treasure trove of anthropological information, one that I'm eager to share with you all. Come on, it's just this way."

The path abruptly forked. I could tell from the mismatched brickwork that one of them had been added recently. The new path curved in and around an outcropping of rock that would likely never have been noticed by a normal traveler. It sloped steeply and narrowed so that we began to feel a little claustrophobic. Down and down we went until the stale air sat like a physical weight in our lungs and the chill turned our breath into mist.

"Are you guys cold?" I called to my team. Jeanne and Durvasa were fine, they had fur, but I could see Artoria begin to shiver slightly.

'I will be fine,' Artoria sniffed. She was like a big sister who saw her little siblings were toughing it out so felt obligated to do the same. 'I am not! I am not cold, that's all.'

'You know, my jacket has big pockets. You could cuddle up in one like you used to as a ralts.'

'I am much too big for that, my lord.'

'No you're not. You're two feet tall.'

'Be that as it may, I will not suffer the indignity of being ferried about by my liegelord.'

'But I carry you every morning from bed.'

'That is that and this is this!' she yelped. I could see her nuclear blush even in the dim lightning. Really, my Artoria was too cute.

The corridor expanded abruptly, widening out into a room that took our breaths away. No, it wasn't right to call it a room. What stretched out before us was a full-blown underground lake, a chamber so wide it could fit an entire city block, maybe several.

And most of it was taken up by crystal clear water. Several torches had been hung up on the walls around the lake, bathing the chamber in soft, yellow light. The water had such a reflective shine that it was impossible to distinguish between the stalactites that dropped into the water and the stalagmites that rose from the depths.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Statues of countless water types were placed around the lake, pristine and unmoved even as stalagmites had begun to rise around them. The largest of these was a monstrously large relicanth carved directly out of a limestone pillar that was so thick four grown men could not clasp hands around it. The ancient pokemon's stony jaws were opened wide, ready to bite down on some imaginary prey. Its fins, delicately shaped from limestone, almost seemed alive as they hinted at water currents we could not feel.

Beneath the large statue was a small, circular platform that came up to my waist. A table, or more accurately, an altar. It was a little concave now as water had dripped on it for thousands of years and worn away at flattened surface. There were inscriptions that I was definitely not qualified to translate.

"W-What is that?" a student whispered, awe in his voice.

"A relicanth. Water and rock type pokemon who are considered the very first fishes ever," I answered for the professor. It was an interesting bit of legend, or perhaps biological factoid, that did not account for Kyogre. I'd found several bits of common knowledge like it throughout my education in this world, details that for some reason excluded the Legends. Was it an intentional bit of misdirection?

'Perhaps, my lord, the League considers concrete information regarding the Legends classified. The fewer humans who know about them, the fewer headstrong fools who'd go about disturbing forces they can't hope to comprehend,' Artoria pointed out. She wasn't wrong; the easiest way to account for human stupidity was to make sure they couldn't make the mistake in the first place. 'Even we would be largely ignorant without your past life. Though I am certain at least some records exist in the library, Lady Sharon had not been forthcoming on that front.'

'True. That's a good point, but here's a counterargument: If few know anything about the Legends, they're not likely to take threats seriously when they occur. Maybe that's why Magma and Aqua managed to acquire the support they did without being stopped? No one knew what they were up to and when rumors circulated, most dismissed them as nutjobs, not knowing that there is truth to the myths.'

'That… sounds like a worrying possibility… But is it not the League's job to monitor such groups?'

'The League can't be everywhere. If the average person stumbles on a rumor that Aqua is going to poke Kyogre with a stick, do you think they'd report it? Or would they laugh, thinking that's impossible in the first place.'

'The latter… Perhaps we should tell Lady Sharon?'

'We should. She can keep an eye on things far better than we can.'

'Agreed, my lord.'

'But that leaves us the question of how we're going to explain that knowledge.'

'Surely she can be trusted with your memories?'

'Maybe…' I wasn't too sure about that. She was intelligent, powerful, and well-meaning, but… but she wasn't there. Maybe I lived in some alternate universe but for whatever reason, Magma or Aqua ultimately managed to invade Mossdeep successfully.

The two of us were brought out of our conversation by the professor. He'd been lecturing on the lifestyle of the relicanth while we'd checked out. "These remarkable pokemon are living proof that pokemon from ancient times can thrive in the modern biosphere. That's why we in the archeological and anthropological communities call them living fossils."

"But why here? I guess this meets the 'link between the past and present' bit on your tablet, but why did the ancients care enough to build this huge statue?" one of the students asked. "And just how old are the ancients?"

"Excellent questions, but ones that have no answers as of yet. Much of Hoenn's history was lost during the Fragmentation Era and the Wars of Conquest, if they were recorded at all. Because Hoenn was comprised of many city states that vied for control, there was no singular record before the founding of the League. Even when there are two surviving records, they often contradict each other as each city state had its own culture, values, priorities, and agendas.

"In fact, though we call them the 'Oldale Ruins' collectively today, they're actually a series of ruins made by multiple tribes over the span of hundreds or even thousands of years. Because they are thousands of years old and we know so little before the founding, the exact nature of these ruins is a mystery that lasts to this day."

"That sounds like a whole lot of guesswork, professor."

"It is, which is why scenes like this are so very precious. This Mirror Lake is a time machine in a way, a firsthand source of information untouched by the ravages of time and war. For example, and back to the original question," he gestured to the altar beneath the statue, "We know from the inscriptions that relicanth were symbols of immortality as well as endurance and perseverance. From anthropological evidence, we also know that these people lived in a time when the shore was much closer and relied heavily on fishing. They revered totems of water pokemon, of which relicanth took pride of place.

"From that, some of my colleagues have hypothesized that the makers of these statues actually predate even the city states and perhaps escaped to the outskirts of Hoenn for one reason or another. Volcanic activity around Mount Chimney? Wild pokemon? Other tribes? Who can say for certain? All we know is that they had reason to cherish water types and hold perseverance and fortitude as valuable virtues."

"That's so cool! Are there any relicanth in the lake?" one child asked. The boy was about nine or ten, probably not long before he'd receive a starter of his own. He was the one who'd been eyeing Durvasa enviously even as he dismissed Jeanne and Artoria for being "girly." His childish prejudice was almost cute.

Durvasa, for his part, had begun to carry out a series of martial arts katas in the corner. He was listening; he probably paid better attention when he was doing light exercise like this.

'Hmph, Durvasa is the weakest of us,' Artoria griped.

'Let the kid be a kid, Artoria. He'll learn soon enough that appearances aren't everything.'

'Oh, very well, my liege.'

"There are a handful," the professor said, dragging me from our conversation. "You likely won't spot them however; they're quite shy and very good at disguising themselves as rocks. The lake looks still with how crystal clear it is, but there is actually a steady flow in and out of this cavern. The water leaks down into an even bigger underground lake before filtering into the sea. Most pokemon prefer to live in that lake instead of this one."

"Aww, that's no fun… I wanted to see some pokemon."

"You might when we get out of here. This part of the cave sees heavy traffic by humans so most wild pokemon don't like it here, but there are sections we'll pass by later where we might cross paths. Can any of you tell me what species we might encounter here?"

Hands went up as the children began to call out answers. To be truthful, even I was taken aback by the sheer biodiversity here, one more proof that this was not a video game. Rather than just a handful of pokemon like geodude and zubat, the cave was home to onix, cubone, diglett, dwebble, aron, nosepass, sandshrew, gligar, and more. And that was just the pokemon that were relatively easy to find.

Depending on the time of day, season, or even the state of the local forest, the population varied a fair bit. Professor Alden told us about how, in times of floods or the presence of an unusually powerful predator, pokemon from the nearby forest would occasionally take shelter in the cave system. That would inevitably lead to fighting between the regular denizens and newcomers over space and easy access to food, something he and his assistants had been studying for years.

"Humans and pokemon aren't so different in that regard," he said as he led us back out and onto another path. The torches got progressively dimmer now, likely so the harsh light wouldn't disturb any nearby pokemon. It also allowed our eyes to adjust to the darkness. "There are some ruins we'll pass through in a moment that indicate that different tribes have been using these cave systems for refuge for millennia. Many of these ruins were destroyed by battles of one stripe or another, but some of the maps made by our ancestors still remain."

We'd reached the main ruins now and they were a sight to behold. Unlike the altar of the relicanth and Mirror Lake, here, the signs of daily life were more apparent. We saw rough-hewn chairs and tables, nooks and shelves, all carved through painstaking effort or via dwebble saliva. Remnants of crustle claws were used as bowls, sometimes even a somewhat awkward knife if sharpened properly. There were signs of battle in some of these homes, broken walls, shattered pottery, and the whole area had been cordoned off so that no tourist strayed from clearly marked paths.

Pokemon of course still lived here; some were even the direct descendants of those who'd partnered with humans. By psychic translation, one particularly old geodude claimed to know a steelix far below who'd met the leader of the humans that had originally taken refuge here thousands of years ago. Whether true or not, said steelix was "slumbering with the core," whatever that meant, and had been for nearly a century.

"Now, we're about ready to wrap up the tour of the caverns, but there is one last thing I want to show you," the professor said as he led us down yet another winding corridor.

The cave walls expanded out a final time. Where the Mirror Lake sat as a fixture of tranquility in defiance of time, the chamber before us could be best described as a cathedral, organ and all. Yes, there was an actual organ, as tall as two grown men, sitting against one wall.

Though it sat on a raised dais that had clearly been added much more recently, the actual organ looked positively ancient. Its body was made of varnished hardwood and little nicks and cracks showed its character. Three layers of piano keys made up the instrument, each expanding out in a series of wires and hinges that ended with mallets poised over one stalactite or other.

"This, ladies and gentlemen, is the Great Stalacpipe Organ," he said with a flourishing bow. "It is the largest instrument in the world and was made a little under two centuries ago by a man named Leland Sprinkle. He was one of the first since the founding of the League to explore the caverns in depth and made an occupation of it."

"That's before the founding of Mauville, isn't it?" I asked curiously. It was hard to imagine sometimes, but the League itself was less than four hundred years old. "Oldale was founded before the Hoenn League during the Fragmentation Era so what kept people from exploring the caves during all that time? Why was he the first?"

"'One of the first,' I said. Part of it was fear. Humans did not always have an amicable relationship with pokemon, especially during the Fragmentation Era. Hoenn didn't have pokeballs at all until just a little over nine hundred years ago because of the geographic distance between us, Johto, and Sinnoh, or Hisui as it was known then. We still had partner pokemon, but teams of elite trainers as you know them today were very rare. Because of that, these caverns were seen as dangerous places, shelters to be used in times of strife, yes, but only when circumstances were dire. And after the League's founding, there were many deeper concerns beyond these caverns.

"I'd like to think that Mr. Sprinkle's exploration here is a product of his time. As people's relationships with pokemon changed, the League's priorities changed with them. It began to subsidize expeditions into the unknown corners of Hoenn to seek out untapped natural resources. There was little material wealth to be found in these caves specifically, but many smaller frontier towns can trace their founding to that period in time. Mr. Sprinkle was just one of many explorers.

"Now, back to the organ. Mr. Sprinkle had a companion, a loudred, that he was inspired by. After initial expeditions bore no fruit, he began to give tours of the caves and would often sing with his loudred, demonstrating for guests how different lengths of stalactites produced different tones when tapped. Then, in the later years of his life, he made this organ to take advantage of the unique acoustics here as a tribute to his pokemon friend who had passed the year previous."

"D-Does the organ still work?" one of the students asked.

"Of course, my girl. In fact, that'll be our final gift to you. I have no musical talent to speak of, but Sam over there is quite the deft hand."

The context of the instrument left Artoria in a somber mood. She looked around in solemn awe as one of the professor's assistants took a seat at the organ and began to play. A haunting melody began to fill the chamber. Each note carried, picked up by the acoustics of the room to trail off in slow reverberations that set the rhythm for the next.

The ambiance felt a lot like being in a chapel, perhaps for a funeral or a great mass to usher in the new year. It was both sad and uplifting, one man's masterpiece born of personal tragedy that stood the test of time. By my side, even Durvasa and Jeanne, ever energetic, stilled with unusual silence.

'My lord?'

'Yes, Artoria?'

'I will remain by your side forevermore,' she swore in the quiet of our own thoughts.

'I don't doubt it.'

We swayed along with the music as our minds melded together. We allowed the wordless melody to create an ebb and flow in our minds, pushing our sincerity into the other.

"People sometimes come here for ceremonies," the professor continued, his voice soft now. He waved to the corridor we hadn't come from. "The town likes to offer this place once in a while for marriages and the like. It's a unique venue, and I guess there's some appeal in that, but I can't help but feel that this is the way it should be, quiet and solemn. The organ was Mr. Sprinkle's last tribute to his friend, a paradoxically lasting homage to a very finite friendship. Rather than the beginning of relationships, this organ is best suited for the endings, I think. And that's why I leave this room for last, one final song to end the tour."

X

Professor Alden had a way with words. His closing statement to us had left us all in a contemplative mood, though not all for the same reasons.

Jeanne skipped along as we headed back to the pokemon center.

"Flaaf~ Flaaffyyy~" she bleated in strange patterns that wasn't quite rhythm.

"Jeanne?"

"Flaaf?"

"Are you… singing…?"

"Flaaf!" She hopped, skipped and jumped into a twirl, dancing to a tune only she could hear.

I remembered then that she'd been especially taken by Onale's appeals round. It seemed it wasn't just the hurdy gurdy or folk music. Melodies of all types appealed to my flaaffy, maybe in ways even she hadn't expected. "You really like music, huh?"

"Flaaffy! Free-flaaffy."

'She said she wishes to incorporate it into contests somehow, my lord,' Artoria translated dutifully.

"I figure something out for us, Jeanne. Maybe we can have you sing to a beat and provide your own light show?"

'Please don't. While I wish to support my sister, she has little in the way of lyrical talent.'

'Artoria, that's mean.'

'But true.'

'It's not like any of the judges will understand her singing.'

'Tone and pitch are relatively universal as far as I am aware, my lord.'

'Is she really that bad?'

'I have heard worse, but she is a far cry from my mother.'

'Alice? The gardevoir who used Disarming Voice to charm a rhydon out of its stampede once? I don't think that's a fair comparison,' I said wryly. 'Alice's voice is literally magical.'

My starter puffed out with pride for her mother. 'Mother is the ideal gardevoir. Nonetheless, I am not sure how appealing a flaaffy singing her own name would be to the judges.'

'You do have a point…'

'Perhaps we could have her make some sort of percussive light show with thunder and lightning?'

That stirred something in my memories. Japanese taiko drums had of course been compared to the ringing of thunderclaps before; I'd had the fortune of hearing a few while I was in Kyoto for a kendo competition. That wasn't all. It was just an idea, but… 'Electricity as an instrument…'

'My lord?'

'You're a genius, Artoria.'

'I live to serve,' she replied with a happy smile.

I picked Jeanne up by the armpits. "Jeanne, how would you like to make music with electricity?"

"Flaaff?"

"I don't know the exact mechanics, but I think there was an instrument back in my old life that umm… used sparks at different voltages to generate sounds?"

"Flaaffy?" she tilted her head in confusion.

"Sorry, girl, I'm no musician, but I promise I'll figure it out for you, okay?"

"Flaaf!"

We reached the pokemon center and grabbed a late dinner from the canteen before retiring to our room. I made a few quick notes into my pokedex for later research. After divvying up our meals, I decided to speak with Durvasa.

"Hey Durvasa, what'd you think of the caverns?"

"Mankey," he huffed. "Mankey-mankey. Man."

'"Weaklings won't let me train or hit things," he said.'

"Yeah, the cave is a protected heritage site. We can't just break things willy-nilly. Was there anything about the caves you liked?"

"Man." He hopped onto the table and spread his arms wide. I almost snorted in laughter; he reminded me of a kid coming back from a fishing trip to brag to mom that the fish he caught was "thhiiissss biiggg!" He then mimed hitting things, though without the usual aggression of his species. "Mankey-man. Mankey?"

'"The Mirror lake was huge and soothing. It was as though Arceus had shined a mirror onto my very soul. I would not mind going back to meditate there,"' Artoria translated for me. She then collected her thoughts so she could better put the next part to words. '"I now understand more clearly that the path to enlightenment begins not with the body, but with the spirit. I shall strive to polish and cultivate my soul, until I too can endure the ravages of time."'

'Did he really say that?'

'That is as close to word-for-word as I can manage, my lord.'

I reached out and ruffled his fur. "Well, out of all of us, you're the one most likely to achieve that goal. Ghost types don't die, or at least tend to have vastly extended lifespans. If you do become an annihilape, you may well achieve a limited form of immortality."

He thought on that before making a drumming action again. Then his fingers curled as if playing the piano. "Mankey?"

'"The organ. It was a tribute some human made to a friend in his troupe, right?"'

"That's right."

"Mankey. Man. Key…"

'"If I achieve enlightenment, I too will outlive you all. No matter how many times I form a troupe, they will pass while I alone remain untouched by time…" My lord, I believe you've taught him the meaning of mortality.'

It was a disquieting thought. "Sobering, isn't it? You know what I think?"

"Man?"

"I think that death gives life meaning. It's the fear of being forgotten that makes people want to build a lasting legacy, whether in deeds or offspring. It's this fear that pushes us on to greater works and reminds us to treasure the time we have. I think that whether you become immortal or not, you won't be immune to this. As far as I know, only Arceus and a few Legends are truly immortal. Even ghosts can fade away or be cast back into the Distortion after all."

"Man…"

"Let's wash up and get some sleep. We've got to head out tomorrow for Petalburg," I said as I stood. I advised Durvasa, "Think on it. Reflect on your own mortality, but don't let it define you. In the end, 'it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are.'"

Author's Note

Was the exploration of the ruins necessary? No, not really. Part of me considered letting Aaron discover some hidden passage and a new relic or something, but… nah, you probably expected that. Besides, not everything has to be about some groundbreaking discovery. Sometimes, it's just nice to have a section dedicated to worldbuilding. I feel like that's what Pokemon fanfictions excel at, the journey.

Much of the cavern's features are based on the Luray Caverns in Luray, Virginia, part of the Shenandoah Valley. It's honestly one of the coolest places I've ever been. The Stalacpipe Organ is an actual thing and yes, you can in fact get married there if you so choose.

The instrument Aaron is referring to is a thoramin, also called a zeusaphone, which is effectively tesla coils turned into an instrument. Shoutout to my longtime patron, Zerak, for the idea. It was something I hinted at as of 3.8 and Onale's appeals round with Jeanne's interest in music.

And with that wonderful gutpunch quote from the story's official inspiration, the third arc of When is a Spoon a Sword? comes to an end. Thank you all for your support.

Thank you for reading. To reach a wider audience, and because I enjoy a more forum-like setup to facilitate discussion, I like to crosspost to a wide variety of websites. You can find them all on my Link Tree: https://linktr.ee/fabled.webs.