For weeks, George finally found peace on the island. Sure, Cobalion could take his lectures and shove them, and he had plenty of struggles without ‘real’ friends to lend him a hand, but it could be worse. Cobalion didn’t appear in his life much - only during lectures. And he did have friends, just not his age. That was off limits.

Compared with being hunted down like prey, his problems were light. Like falling onto a pile of feathers, rather than a rock. Teachers, finding ways to kill time, making friends. But it never took long for the veil to slip. He used to have a friend his age, but he was gone. And the peace on this island was but a fickle thing.

It stopped where the fog started.

Wakey, wakey, Georgy Porgy!

A voice he hadn’t heard in a while spoke to him when his eyes closed one night. One he’d been close to forgetting, until a rude awakening had come. He bolted out of bed, only to find himself in a sea of darkness, far removed from the safety of the island. It had been a blessing from the gods… But what the gods give, they are more than capable of taking away.

‘No… no! What are you doing here?!’ George shouted into the void. He had no mouth, and screamed in his head. To his ears, he sounded loud and powerful. To his shaky limbs, it was a different story. And to his visitor?

Oh, don’t be upset! I thought I’d be nice and pay you a visit! It’s been so long, the two of us… The red eyes danced in the darkness, a snake-like body with tendrils attached following behind. ‘I must apologise for the wait! Those Swords sure put up a big, sturdy barrier! Took forever to get through!’

George gritted his teeth behind his non-existent mouth. His fists were clenched, his feet shuffling into a combat stance. As the beast passed by, he threw punches. Nothing but air touched his knuckles; his opponent didn’t seem to notice. What kind of punch was that, compared to a stiff breeze? Is that how you fought back against a god?

‘Go to hell! Do I look like I want anything to do with you?! Do you have more lies to rub into my face?!’

Lies? Aw, come on. I haven’t lied to you since I dropped the act! The Renegade’s body contorted right in front of George, hanging suspended as if physics were a joke. And you know, I don’t particularly enjoy being dishonest with people, George. That’s why I make it my policy to be entirely clandestine to those on my side! And those who know and hate me, of course.

George retreated a step, his ears pressing into his skull. ‘Who do you think I am? You enslave people! Take over their minds and use them to kill others!’

The Renegade slowly bared a set of red teeth, akin to the tips on the end of its tendrils. George felt all the bravery being sucked out of him. One little smile reveals so much about people. How powerful they were, and how insignificant he was in comparison.

Now you’re the one making things up! About me! That’s not pleasant, George! I don’t enslave people, I simply hold up a mirror to ‘em, show ‘em who they really are! Your parents would be ashamed to see their boy so… so cruel hearted!

‘DON’T YOU DARE!’

George’s hands shot towards his scalchops, only to grasp air. He stared into the eyes again, the chills running up his spine in battle with the boiling blood in his veins. Terrifying as the beast might be, it had spat straight onto his soul. Death had no meaning right now.

Oh, but don’t get angry at me! I showed you the truth, no? They’re still looking for you back home!

‘SHUT UP! Don’t talk about my parents! EVER!’

Georgie… that offer’s still open, you know. That offer to reunite with mom and dad, who are waiting for you with open arms. Their sorrow and regret is genuine. No need to shout over this one, I know fulwell that you wouldn’t trust me further than you could throw me! But look at it this way. Would you want to stay here, knowing what will happen?

The Dewott shook, all alone in the void he’d been trapped in. Lord knows how he’d get out of this one. Either someone in the world would find him trapped in his nightmare, or he’d have a rude awakening.

‘Haven’t you done enough already…? The sky, the people… is it not enough?!’

There’s plenty of work I could still do for the people of Eravate. Helping them break free of their tyrants in the heavens, advising them to that which they desire most of all… Enslavement? Please. Free will is a beautiful thing, George. You know it yourself all too well. Who am I to force Pokemon into my bidding, when their drive and passion leads them to me? I don’t destroy free will. I only guide the way to what a Pokemon truly desires.

‘Which is?!’

Depends on the Pokemon, really… Some want to find love. Some want power. Others want a happy life. And I can show them the way… don’t believe me? Just look at who’s awaiting you on the Tholander coast!

Upon hearing the Renegade’s warning, if it could be called one, George struggled to keep his fists balled up. He almost asked who he meant, but some things needed no explanation. A set of working instincts did the heavy lifting. Of course the Alliance still wanted him on a silver platter. Of course the Renegade had similar ideas. Why would they stop tracking him down, just because he’d found shelter on an island? And why would they allow a shelter to exist in the first place?

‘I don’t believe you…’ George whispered, shaky yet defiant as ever. Like the condemned spitting in the executioner’s face on their way to the gallows.

You don’t have to. Believe them!

Voices echoed in from afar, as the beast vanished into the shadows.

‘A march has been held through downtown to raise awareness for a missing teen…’

The Dewott’s eye twitched. He hadn’t heard a news presenter in a long time, and the topic at hand?

‘Stop…! You’re not breaking me, I swear! Whatever your game is-’

Two voices he heard on the day he was born took over, their tone fuzzy and distorted, yet clear enough to make out from far. A man’s came first. ‘George, wherever you are…’

‘We miss you. We really miss you… are you safe?’ a woman’s voice continued. George tried opening his mouth, stretching the skin where it was supposed to be while he staggered, trying to say something. Anything.

‘If you can hear this… Come back to us. Please. We don’t want you suffering out there. We just want you to be happy, loved... We made a terrible mistake, letting you go. Please.’

Please. That word echoed many times over in George’s mind, as he stirred, kicked and thrashed, trying desperately to pry his mouth open. No matter how hard he tried, the images just wouldn’t leave.

George…

‘I’m not here…’

Please…

‘This isn’t happening…’

Now, do you wish you’d accepted?

Pain struck George in the back. He ripped his hands from his face, eyes blazing wide open as the air rushed out his throat. A wooden ceiling stared back at him. The surface of ahardwood floor pressed into half his body.

He raised his head. The bed towered over, half the sheets still on top. The pillow had gotten wedged in between the bed and a nightstand. The Dewott gripped onto the rest of the sheets, pulling himself to his feet; it was still dark.

‘...Where the hell has Monday gone?!’

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

George bolted out the front door, still reeling from the impact. A mountain stream ran by the cottage he’d been granted, which had been built on a hill. He fell on his knees, scooped up water to splash himself in the face. Once his fur was dripping, he stuck his hands right in, stared at the ripples.

By the time the water had calmed, he found nothing but himself, reflected in the moonlight.

* * *

To say the day after was rough, was to say the sun would rise in the morning. George shuffled and stumbled his way through breakfast and tutoring with his soul under his sleeve, incapable of getting the frown off his face no matter how much Virizion insisted. The green sword didn’t like it, but she ultimately gave up. How ironic, given the topic of her lecture.

“If anything, I hope you at least understand what it is we’re trying to do here.”

“‘Build emotional resilience’, isn’t that correct?”

“Yes, and using emotions to better yourself. You’ve gotten part one down, but part two is severely lacking.”

George tucked his ears and whiskers back, resembling an agitated cat in the process. For all of Virizion’s efforts, she sure didn’t sound like she practised what she preached. Her words rang hollow in George’s head. It was difficult enough to concentrate on the topic at hand.

“Look, I had a horrible night, okay? I barely got to sleep.”

“Yes, but that’s precisely my point,” Virizion said, her face shrivelling up; for a second, it looked as if it would fall off. “If you’re struggling to take this in now, after a bad dream, how will it affect you when faced with the worst? When you’re fighting the Corrupted.”

George sighed. “I know. I didn’t ask for this to happen to me,” he said, purposefully leaving the Renegade out. “Life just… got up and smacked me in the face.”

Virizion breathed in deep, then back out. Her breath was picked up by the wind, and swept past George, leaving him behind in a cold afterglow.

“Don’t forget, George. I have faith in you. We all have faith in you. As long as you believe in yourself… you’ll make the right decision.” She smiled at him. “Keep up those breathing exercises. Keep getting better. And don’t be shy to talk about what’s wrong. Being open makes us strong. Remember?”

The Dewott forced himself to nod. “A hundred percent,” he said.

When all was said and done, Virizion left the field with confidence, and George left with a lump in his stomach. Had she not had it in her to press him? He didn’t blame her. Who would’ve wanted to untangle the mess that was his head. Alternatively, she hadn’t noticed that George had lied. He wasn’t fine. He sure as hell wasn’t confident. Open? Forget it.

The Renegade visiting his dreams again would send all the red flags sky high. If he had spoken even a grain of truth, then the Isle of Swords was in danger. And George had just bit his tongue. Turning around and warning Virizion? Didn’t have it in him.

That meant having to relive all those memories, all over again. Even now, after the lesson and all the emotional training, said memories plagued him. Mom and dad had been a blurry memory, the kind associated with old tapes. Now they were back, pleading for his return? And the middleman in between them was a beast without a face?

It should’ve been enough to dismiss the voices as hearsay, or deranged ramblings, the kind the Renegade loved speaking in. It might as well have been his accent. Yet George didn’t dismiss them, silly as they were. Somehow, it spoke to something within… even though he struggled to understand what.

‘How did he even get their voices, anyway…’

George pinched himself in the side, right above the scalchop. Letting the mind run wild hurt far more than any squeezing ever could have, especially when you had time to kill. He distracted himself with all the same time wasters: Pancakes for lunch, trying to find his way around the communes, getting started on his exercises… and a new one.

In the time between lectures, he picked up playing the Azure Flute for fun. Sure, his playing skills left much to be desired. Sure, the flute wasn’t even complete. Sure, it sounded hideous enough to scare a cat away. But he had fun, at the very least.

‘Like screaming out at the top of your lungs. Only with music! Or well, music, ha. Almost makes you forget about last night, George.’

With a smile weak enough to double as a frown, George headed for his next lecture. Or an appointment. He wasn’t quite sure what term worked best; Terez sure didn’t call her time with him a lecture. She didn’t cram him into a dusty classroom where the air smelled of chalk, while she doodled on a blackboard. None of his lecturers did, but that was besides the point.

They agreed to meet on the green side of the island, inside a grove split in half by a river. The leafy roof was a verdant green, shrouding the moss, bushes and ferns below from the sunlight. Winter might have been here, but the Corrupted hordes weren’t all the island was protected from. The temperature was warm, but not particularly warm, either.

In any case, enough warmth lingered around for Terez to teach George outside. The Dewott headed through the groves, careful to prevent his feet from getting wet; he liked that, but others begged to differ.

As the forest wasn’t too thick, George found Terez in a short amount of time, sitting on a flat rock by the river’s edge. She’d detected his presence before they saw each other physically; his first sight of her was a smile.

“Enjoying the day?”

George stared, then blinked at her. In hindsight, he should’ve been expecting she’d caught onto him sneaking up. Well, he might not have been ‘sneaking’, per se, but both of them had a sixth sense. Terez had no reservations about using hers. He, on the other hand, flunked the test.

“Sort of…”

“That’s rather unspecific, ‘sort of’. Are you sure you don’t have more to tell?”

The Dewott grumbled, biting his lip before joining the Gardevoir at the river’s edge. She had prepared a second flat rock, specifically for him to sit on. ‘Great, here goes nothing. Here’s to hoping she won’t wring me out…’

The two conversed for a little while about the day. Being with someone familiar made George confident enough to sit upright, and tell Terez the story of what he’d seen that night. It wasn’t pleasant, but he’d calmed enough to start wondering about answers again. Sure, he knew the Renegade. But what else did he see, in his old dreams? The reflections of his warped mind staring back at him, or gross manipulation?

With an uneasy breath, she spoke: “So he’s using your parents against you?”

George clutched his arm uncomfortably.“Pretty much… At least, I think they’re my parents. It feels like it.” He sucked in a breath. “And no, I don’t know how in the world he knows what my parents look like. I don’t know where he got the idea from, or why he wants to get under my skin this badly.”

Terez folded her arms, then looked out over the river as it surged downstream. “It’s tempting to keep it at that last part. But when speaking of the mythical, everything has an intent.”

“What?” George blinked at her. “Can you repeat that?” ‘And in English, please?’

“Gods aren’t as simple as we are,” said Terez as she plucked the leaves from a gust of wind. “We have simple goals, at the end of the day. Keeping ourselves warm, fed, happy. Sure, we can achieve happiness in advanced ways…”

With a flick of her wrist, the Gardevoir blew the leaves away with the wind, scattering them into the raging waters.

“But we aren’t as dedicated to the greater picture as they are. We get meaning out of the small things in life. The gods, however, are devoted to that which is greater than any one of us. And when faced with a tyrant of the Renagade’s power, all we can do to resist is our best. Do you understand this?”

An annoyed frown appeared on George’s face. “No.”

“Was there anything not clear?” Terez asked.

To this, the Dewott clenched his fists, a blue flicker passing in and out of his eye; for a moment, he longed to gather all the leaves she’d scattered back up.

“Oh, it’s perfectly clear, it only makes no sense. First, it’s not an answer to what I want to know, which is why the Renegade is messing with me like this. Second, don’t act like we’re stupid. We can piece together what they want. We’re not animals. And third… why are you talking all philosophically, anyway?”

Terez raised an eye at him. “What I meant to say is, what the Renegade wants is not so important. Likely he wants to manipulate you, get something he wants out of you.”

“...Me to go back home,” George deadpanned.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah. Whenever I see my parents, they’re always talking about how they’re filled with regret. How they want to right their wrongs, and actually take care of me now. He’s trying to push me to accept his offer, and,” he paused, ”go back, I guess. Don’t know how he intends on doing that. But it beats being in a warzone. His words, not mine.”

The Gardevoir didn't like the sound of that: She put her hands together, then bent and twisted her digits with enough force to pop her joints, an uneasy look lingering in her eyes. “It’s a manipulation tactic, George. He wants you to say yes. Then he’ll be rid of you.”

“I know that-” George said, only to lock up. Sure, the beast’s intentions were obvious. The sooner George wasn't a thorn in his side anymore, the better. If the Azure Flute could dispel the Queen’s powers, then what else could it do?

But deep down, very deep down… did George really want to stick around, when everything seemed so hopeless? When an army lay in wait on Eravate’s shores, ready to assault the island? Sure, that could all be a bluff. And he knew better than to trust the word of those who hid their face. But when a god lurked in the shadows, and bragged high from the mountaintops? Would he lie? Wouldn’t George’s position be hopeless?

For the first time in a while, brightness loomed on the horizon.

“George?”

The Dewott snapped back. “What?” he blurted out, before crossing his arms over his chest. “Sorry.”

“You aren’t thinking about accepting, are you? You know he’s not telling the truth.”

“No. W-why do you ask?”

“Because you froze. People don’t freeze without a conflict.”

George took a deep breath, then sighed it out. “Of course,” he replied. ”It’s hard. He’s trying to use my own life against me. It’s not just any random crap. My parents who I haven’t seen in forever! How my life’s been nothing but trash ever since I last saw them! What can you even say to that? He’s playing me like… like I’m a damn piano!” He smacked his hands on his knees. Terez couldn’t help but look away.

“I’m afraid you’re far from the only one,” she said. “Do you know what I believe?”

The Dewott stared at her. “No.”

Terez sighed. “He’s visiting all Pokemon in their dreams. All of us. This is not a recent phenomenon, George. Far from it.”

He blinked at her. “What makes you say this?”

She pinched her dress with a fist, squeezing hard enough to wrinkle it down to her ankles. “It’s a feeling I’ve got. A sense that we’ve all got strange visitors in our dreams at some point. Mine came a long time ago, but it’s recent enough for me to remember vividly. It was a warm voice. Told me to take back control of my life. To start pursuing the things I desired. Among them was fighting back against the Crest… I’ve told you that story, haven’t I?”

“Mhm.” George nodded tepidly. “It sounds familiar enough.” ‘Probably told this exact story before.’

“Well, those days are long over, and all I have left is what’s in my mind… and one other thing.” She reached beside her, then pulled up a bag; evidently it wasn’t worth using telekinesis for. She unwrapped what was inside, like unboxing a present. George looked at what was in her hands when she pulled them out.

Alas for him, he made the mistake of looking at the hand furthest from him. Before George knew it, she’d pushed something into his chest. The Dewott’s hands shot up immediately, only to find two flutes against each other. One had been dangling from his neck for a while. The other was brown, and actually complete.

“I always liked music. And I got all the encouragement to pursue it in one of my dreams.” Terez breathed in deep, then exhaled. “Find the light in the darkness, and you’ll find your way home. Or, in my case, to one of my passions.”

George held up the flute, his fur itchy as he stared up at Terez. One flute wasn’t enough for the world’s liking, it turned out. ‘When life gives you lemons, make music. Or something.’ He bit the corner of his mouth. “You never told me you liked music before.”

The Gardevoir shrugged. “I never had the opportunity to bring it up, so you didn’t hear about it. But now you have.” She grinned.

The Dewott rolled his eyes, tossing his new flute back and forth between his hands. “Right… thanks for the flute.” He gulped. ‘I already had one, but.’ “Let me guess, you want me to play with you.”

He got a nod in response, before Terez stuck the flute between her lips, and played a tune simple enough for anyone to keep track of. Three notes with little variation between, that’s all that echoed in the grove for any passersby to hear. Though George had never seen her play before, she was remarkably adept. Not only in keeping control of her breath, but in the flow from one note to the next.

Inspired, the Dewott attempted to play along with her, sticking the flute in his mouth, then internalising the notes he’d learned some time ago. Lavals might have been just as brainwashed as the rest of the Alliance, but at least she taught him a thing or two.

Too bad he forgot all about them. George’s flute playing sounded like he was trying to ‘play’ a snorkel. So much for a peaceful melody in the woods. Try nails on a chalkboard.

“Egh…”

“Well now, that’s… not what I expected.” Terez laughed. “Say, would you want some lessons from me? I’ve learned a thing or two over the years.”

George sighed. “Gladly.”