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PART VII
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Dawn of a Revolution
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After all the slogging through snow for several weeks straight, there’s little else you’d want to do besides laying flat in a comfy bed. Forget all the cold, the drama, the fact that war had just broken out, and just rest up. Watch the snow fall through a window, with a mug of hot cocoa in your hands… George only saw it in cartoons, of course, but it was a cosy thought.
And of course, much like all his fantasies, what he got was anything except that.
You’ve returned.
George cracked an eye open. Blue sky. Bed of clouds. He sighed.
‘Been a long time since you last showed yourself. Almost too long.’
The voice in the heavens laughed. You could say that. It was not my intention to leave you stewing for so long. But you have managed to succeed, have you not?
‘If by success, you mean almost getting killed and losing that last flute piece, then yes.’ George’s fur was warm to the touch, despite the cool air flowing through the dream world. On top of that, his skin itched. As if the Dewott fur was all fake, and he’d been trapped inside a suit. He groaned.
‘Are you upset about that?’
Only disappointed, the voice answered, a ripple passing through the clouds. Alas, it isn’t realistic to get everything you want. But we must be aware of the consequences this has.
Not a word left George’s body, despite his lips moving. His feet grew cold. ‘Consequences? Divine wrath?’
For a split second, the sky turned black. It happened in the blink of an eye.
Don’t be silly. I’m not your enemy, remember? Take a deep breath, because the consequences are merely the difficulties this will mean in the nearby future. After all, a complete flute is the first step in learning to play one.
George crossed his arms, his foot tapping into the cloud below. Despite feeling like a ball of cotton, the cloud resisted the pressure an awful lot more than in any other dream. ‘Learning to play the flute? Why would I need to play the flute? Can’t anyone learn how to-’
Oh yes! Exclaimed the voice. They may not have told you yet, but the Azure Flute is a special artefact. It does not respond to ordinary Pokemon, you see. But a former human? An ‘Othersider’, if you will? When a human plays the flute, then the true power that sleeps within shall reach eye and ear, depending on the melody played.
George didn’t like what he was hearing. He dangled a hand in front of his face, then pulled on one of his whiskers. What did it matter if he used to be a human? Humans didn’t grow blue fur and whiskers. Nor did they breathe water. Or have psychic powers. Or grow a giant navy blue kilt to stick seashells into. That was a Dewott thing.
‘’Do I look like I can play the flute? If you think I’m musically gifted, guess again!’
A cloud in front of George moved up and down. Why yes, you can. You might not be a natural musician, but anything can be accomplished as long as the will exists to do it, remember? And don’t say ‘I’m a Pokemon now’. You have hands. You have a voice! You have lungs. You can hold and play a flute just fine, don’t you worry~ The voice spoke in a playful tone.
George crossed his arms. Still defiant, like a teenager being dragged out of bed on a monday morning. ‘If you say so… just don’t be surprised if it doesn’t go as well as you think.’
Fantastic! the voice exclaimed. I have not had the opportunity to say this earlier, George, but I am proud of you. You have come so far in this journey of yours. So very far… do you have any idea how-
George furrowed his brow. ‘Can I ask you a question?’
Oh?
‘Why do I have to learn to play the flute? What for?’
A chuckle echoed through the blue skies. Did you not ask the same question moments earlier?
The Dewott’s fur stood up straight. ‘No, I want to know what’s going to happen when you want me to play it. Something more concrete than ‘Oh, this great power slumbers inside, and you have the power to awaken the power, and then use the power to do powerful deeds’, or some crap like that.’
Hmm… interesting question. Clouds in the distance split into a dozen, before congealing back into one. Truth to be told, George, that is a surprise for us both. I do not know if you will be able to recover the third piece now, nor do I know the exact consequences of that one being absent. I will have to look into it.
George scowled at the air. ‘Didn’t you just say there would be consequences?’
Yes. Yes I did. But only that there would be consequences. The power inside gets rather unstable if it is incomplete. For all I know, we may not be able to harness it properly. Or perhaps we can. Perhaps it will manifest in unexpected ways.
‘Then how do you know there will be consequences in the first place?’
Experience.
The final word echoed across the great blue yonder, reverberating through the clouds which greyed like a person growing old. Wilted, wrinkled, and rubbing against one other until static electricity rippled through. George felt a chill run up his spine.
‘Did… you make everything-’
Did I what?
‘Turn the world into a storm.’
Oh no, that happens sometimes. I’m but another soul in mother nature’s splendor, George.
The Dewott attempted to bite his lip, only to find his face frozen. Any steps further, and he might just get the voice to start being honest for a change. Given what he’d seen so far, that was a mask best left undisturbed.
And just as luck would have it, a grey mist flooded in from afar, overwhelming George’s sight.
Ah, this is quite unfortunate. I was hoping to explain how much you aided the struggle, but you’re waking…
* * *
George gasped for air as his eyes flew ope. The two claws on his chest yanked straight up.
“Ah! Ah…”
“G-George! Did something happen?”
By the time he’d come to his senses, George was sitting straight up on top of his bed, breathing uneasily as he kept himself propped up with both arms. Blitzer had stumbled backwards halfway across the room, right onto his rear. With his tail out in front of him, how exposed his cream-coloured belly was, and how he struggled to keep his mouth closed, he looked utterly absurd. A pie in the face couldn’t make it goofier.
“...Juuust a bad dream. Voice.”
“Oh.”
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They stared at each other for a good ten seconds, towards the end of which George gulped.‘He looks really cute like that, actually- Why now?!’
“Soo… did you want to go training, or go to lunch first?”
“Lunch?!” George blinked. “I just woke up, you’re not saying it-”
“It's already afternoon, yes.” Blitzer clicked his tongue, then let out a chirp. “Right, you want to go brunching first? They should have some decent food in the base somewhere.”
George rubbed his forehead, tail smacking into the ground behind him. “If it means I won’t have Artanouk smacking my face about the flute piece, sure. When is that happening?”
Blitzer shook his head. “Haven’t heard yet. Chances are he’s busy. In any case, I don’t mind taking it easy for a while. Especially after, well…”
“Don’t need to tell me.” Ears flat against his head, George got up. “Allora’s gone, isn’t she.”
“Nobody’s gone close to Tirasford since we all fled,” Blitzer mumbled. “You’re… not upset about that, are you?”
George sighed. “A little bit. Never got the chance to say goodbye, or anything else, really. I’d prefer to not think about it too much.”
Blitzer let out a growly sigh. “Sorry,” he uttered right after.
George didn’t interpret it as aggressive to begin with. He knew Blitzer well enough to differentiate one kind of growl from the other, it was a dragon thing.
Besides, Blitzer wouldn’t even dare dream being angry at George, they’d been through too much together.
“Don’t worry about it,” the Dewott replied with a quick lick of his lips. “It’s not like it’s your fault. Or anyone else’s fault… aside from whoever came up with this stupid plan in the first place. I’m glad you made it out of there in one piece.”
“Yeah. I’m glad you understand,” said Blitzer as he stood up, then put his claw on a wall, tail still partially tucked between his legs. “Why oh why did it get to this point, though…”
George breathed in deep through his nose, one strand of fur falling in front of his eyes. “Guess we’ll find out eventually.”
* * *
Two days passed. George and Blitzer kept themselves entertained and healthy through a mix of training, playing games, and trying out foreign foods. Mostly exotic vegetables and dishes from cultures they hadn’t heard of. The exact kind of adventurism that made them passionate about it in the first place. No suffering involved here.
Aside from too much spice.
Nevertheless, duty came knocking, and the fun and games ended the second they heard the first of many on the door. They opened. It was Skal.
“Ey! The Prince wants to see ya!” The Aggron winked at them. And though he seemed as enthusiastic as ever, the initial burst of happiness from Blitzer died down pretty fast.
“Skal! Oh, uh… Prince Artanouk? It’s about Whitiara, isn’t it?”
“Indeed it is!” Skal replied, patting his armoured body down. The dings sounded like he’d just eaten a whole Mudsdale before coming.
George grimaced, his ears going flat against his head. “...We weren’t going to escape it forever, but-”
Skal scoffed at the Dewott. Same personality, same towering height. And George wasn’t about to fool around with him if he could help it.
“Aw, come on. You’re actin’ like he bites! He ain’t a lil’ yappy Lillipup, y’know,” he said while ducking down a little, his tail curling around his legs. “C’mon. He’s been lookin’ forward to seein’ the two of ye again, ya hear?”
Blitzer crossed his arms over his chest. “We didn’t exactly make him happy either, did we. You’ve heard the news, right? No flute piece!”
The Aggron spread his arms wide. “Course I have! But that don’t mean anythin’. Ain’t always gonna land every shot ya take!” For a moment, he seemed interested in a hug. Then he took a step back. “Leeeet’s go.”
Leaving the questions for later, they left the comfort of their own room behind, and embraced the cave air for all it was worth.
The trip to Artanouk’s chambers was uneventful. Pokemon were no more excited than the day they returned – not in the slightest. With hushed tones they wandered past, making their way to the minecarts or the Main Link, or browsing the items in the internal market. All the buzz about the Othersider had worn off, and it wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon.
‘Exceptionally unexceptional’, George thought to himself. ‘Maybe Artanouk finally will just drop the pretence. Maybe this is the last time I’ll see him. Who knows.’
Up the staircase and through the doors, the Empoleon once again was in his place with his back turned, kneeling by an altar, the same purple candles lit on top. Just one of Skal’s heavy footfalls caught his attention, however.
“Well met, Skal. Blitzer. Othersider.”
“Didn’t even need to look, eh?” Skal asked. A smirk formed on Artanouk’s face as he turned.
“I know what to expect, what more can I say? I asked for you three to be here, after all.”
Skal took his place at the Prince’s side once more, arms folded and tail pitched up as he tilted his head back.
Artanouk held his fins behind his back like previous times, while George and Blitzer stood side by side. So familiar, yet so alien. Three people were absent.
‘Where is Terez?’
“So then, Othersider. You’ve returned from the north,” Artanouk began. “Perhaps it was not the best idea to go there in the depths of winter. But history has been written regardless.”
George took a deep breath, keeping his tail as steady as he could. “I wouldn’t exactly go around celebrating that… any of that, really. I’ve got nothing to show you.”
Artanouk nodded. “I am aware, yes… a disappointment to be sure, but we can compensate for it. All the means to succeed in our mission are in our hands. We only need to utilise them intelligently. They are the two pieces of the Azure Flute, of course… and the Pokemon who can play them. Or more accurately, the human who can play them.”
‘Here goes.’ George crossed his arms, his tail drooping onto the cold floor to try and make himself comfortable. Easier said than done. The smoky smell of incense made the air too cramped to be relaxed.
“I had a feeling you’d be asking me to play it.” ‘Feeling? Literally asked earlier would be more accurate.’
“George?” Blitzer asked, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. George could picture his jaw hanging open without even looking, right down to his teeth being too big to fit. But he didn’t look his way. Skal and Artanouk both nodded at him, content with his answer.
“Excellent,” Artanouk replied. “You're as perceptive as ever, George. I may have told you to temper your expectations in the past, but you’ve been adapting to your environment rather well. A bit of an awkward way to explain it, but you get the idea.”
Skal grinned. “He means yer doin’ great, kiddo.”
Artanouk gestured for the Aggron to calm down with a flipper, before continuing. “Naturally, there is something I have been withholding until the right time to explain it is. I would have preferred to tell you when the flute was complete, but this will have to do… especially with battles raging across Eravate as we speak. We’ve started a fire in Tirasford, after all.”
He held a flipper against his chest. “The Azure Flute has a unique power. One we believe no mere Pokemon can access. An Othersider, however? They are not bound by the limits we have been constrained with. You have a unique ability that no one else in the world has… All you have to do is hone it.”
“Hone it?” George asked. He wanted to ask why exactly he and he alone was so fit to play the flute, but decided against it. “Right. What do you want me to do? I don’t know the first thing about playing the flute.” ‘How’s about blowing in the hole? That’s a good start.’
“First of all… take this.” The Empoleon reached out to the altar behind him, then held out a flipper to George. On it, the silvery-blue gleam of the Azure Flute radiated its splendour, shining in the light of the candles on the wall.
Pristine, without a scratch despite all it had been through… yet incomplete. A large chunk on the back was absent. All the happy feelings drained out of George in an instant, and the heat from Blitzer’s flame weakened almost at the same time.
“Your instrument,” Artanouk said with a grin.
George was slow while taking the flute in his hands. A thin cord had been attached around the back, forming a loop that fit around his neck. “Ergh.” ‘Does he really think this will work?’
Artanouk nodded. “Now you are set. It’s time for you to learn about what I have just given you. Lavals?”
“Yeeees?”
An aged voice echoed through the chamber, coming from the front doors. George and Blitzer both turned their heads. A Meloetta came walking towards them, leaning on a cane on every other step, her face wrinkled and far past its prime, yet full of warmth that death couldn’t snuff out.
“Take it from here, Lavals…” Artanouk gestured to his audience like a conductor to an orchestra, each wave of his flipper more rapid than the last. “Before that, however. Skal, would you be so kind to take Blitzer for some training? Learning music requires the utmost amount of concentration, after all.”
“Sure will,” Skal grumbled while stretching his arms, his eyes narrowed in on the confused Charmeleon.
“Huh?” Blitzer stammered. “That wasn’t in the plan! No one said anything about-”
“Plans aren’t always what they seem to be,” Artanouk chuckled. “Much like people.”
‘Ugh!’ George scowled at the Empoleon while his back was turned ‘He says it like it’s some kind of virtue! As if there’s no need to be honest, because you can’t control every aspect of something you planned, and that’s just a basic fact of life… he’s in charge here!’
“Blitzer, I dunno about you, but we got a looot to get caught up on, y’know. Still got a few tricks ‘n exercises I haven’t shown ya yet. Whaddye say we do ‘em?” Skal asked with a snap of his claws, tail thumping on the ground.
“I prefer staying-” Blitzer’s words turned into a chirp as the Aggron gave him a nudge in the shoulder. Lest he’d get grabbed by the arm and dragged off, the Charmeleon kept his mouth shut and followed Skal outside, off to the training fields to do battle… in theory. Surprisingly enough, none of his mentors had ever challenged him to a duel of any kind. Or if they did, Blitzer never talked about it.
George sighed. ‘I miss Terez. I really just thought that, didn’t I?’
As the metal doors fell shut on the chamber, the final familiar faces were gone. George’s eyes shifted between Artanouk, and Meloetta Lavals, as she introduced herself as. Up close, her face looked even wrinklier, and her hair somewhat clumped and greasy. She didn’t smell of anything in particular, despite looking so unkempt.
“Soo, you are the famous Othersider I’ve been hearing so much about?” Lavals crooned, the tone of her voice a little too warm for comfort. George bit his cheek for a split second.
“That… would be correct. I’m George. Nice to meet you…?” The Dewott raised his hand at a glacial pace. ‘Feels like my hair is going to fall out the longer I listen to this person… I’m not even an adult. And my hair shouldn’t even fall out permanently!’
The Meloetta chuckled like an old crone. “No need to be so nervous. I’m just a Pokemon unlike any other. Don’t let all the chatter about me being Meloetta get to you.” She cleared her throat, and fetched a flute of her own from a bag on her hip.
It wasn’t until now that George realised many parts of her body resembled musical symbols. Born to play music, one could say. He felt his own ear while contemplating. ‘Pokemon biology only gets more confusing the longer I’m here. Why is she music? Why do I carry a shell around? Why- I should just stop. Don’t need headaches.’
Lavals held up the flute before George. No telekinesis, despite George sensing psychic powers coming from her.
“So, do you have any prior experience with music?” she asked.
“No,” George answered.
“Ah, everyone starts from somewhere!” Lavals answered, then played several high notes in quick succession. “A clean slate means there won’t be any bad habits you’ll form, hmm? All the better when learning a masterpiece like this one.”
She played the same string of notes again, her fingers swiftly shifting between the holes. Age hadn’t claimed her dexterity yet, if only by passion for the subject at hand. Some things never leave someone.
“Uh, well done?” George replied as she finished playing, looking at the flute dangling from his neck. ‘Do I even say anything here?’
Lavals circled around George as he distracted himself, carefully sidestepping his tail. “You and I have some lessons to attend to. Just a single note from your flute can change the world! You might not believe it now, but you’ll see soon enough.”
“Indeed,” Artanouk said. “Whilst you will be receiving your final training, I will be finalising the ultimate plan. The plan to choke the last breath out of the dying Crest regime… at long last.”
George raised an eye at the Empoleon. “Let me guess. Does it involve another attack?” he asked. The candles behind seemed to flicker.
Artanouk crossed his arms. “Oh yes. But it is so much more than an attack. You will see… when the time is right, of course.”
“Right…” George groaned. ‘Business as usual, I see… one failed attack to another.’
A soft hand touched George’s shoulder, which almost made him jump. By the time his head turned, all he saw was an old smile. “Will you come with me, George? The Prince is a busy man.”
“Right, right… where to?”
Lavals wrapped her arm around George’s back, gently stirring it through his blue fur. “I know just the place! Come with me.”
As George was escorted out of the chamber, and dragged his feet over the stone as he thought of meeting up with Blitzer again, his ears caught wind of something odd.
“...Soon it’ll all be over. From Kronn to Ruby. Whitiara to Azzurro. All of Eravate will know true freedom at last… dream, my…”
The doors fell shut with a thunderous bang.