Pokemon Revolution: Advent Phoenix (Rated T)

[Lucarioman777]

It always sucks when someone dies. Especially if that person is a guy who you respect. I'm not a Redskins fan, but I still bow my head for him.

I have a heavy heart too, but from nothing like that (although that is something you'd get one from). I've just had a bad week.

Anyway...

Yeah, I definetly like the third one, for the same reasons. Also, is Lucas Blackthorn:

    Spoiler:- Just in case...:

Show Spoiler

 
-Shiro's son?
-or-
-Lance's son?
 

--p.s. I'm an Eagles fan. I guess it's because I have an affinity with birds? Plus, I like green and silver.

Lucario/Gallade/Staraptor pwn all.

--Lucarioman777

[Air Dragon]

Hey guys... sorry to hear about your idol, EM 1. I don't even follow American football, but I'll observe a moment's silence for the guy too. Thanks for the insight into this fic trilogy too... it was a real eye opener.

Yeah, I definetly like the third one, for the same reasons. Also, is Lucas Blackthorn:

-Shiro's son?
-or-
-Lance's son?

I got this one...

“Where am I supposed to live now?!” Marco – a rather small boy with dangerous-looking, short black hair with red streaks and golden eyes characteristic of the maternal side of his ancestry shouted at them from a chair in the back of the living room. “If my liar of a dad’s gone, now what?!”

“I don’t know!!” Travis shouted, turning around. It just so happened that, weeks before Michael Azuki’s untimely death, the secret of his wife had been coaxed out of him by his eldest son (who later left for Goldenrod City to win Junior Regional Vert Champion for a second year, and then left for Sevii soon after), with Marco as a witness. This had caused the seven-year-old boy to resent his father from hiding this secret for so long. As a result, when Marco received the news that his father had died, the shock wore off very quickly. It had also been implied, however, that Michael, because of his freewheeling tendencies, might have crossed some rather unsavory characters at one point – and that was the reason that Travis and Katrina were presently guarding his house. They had called some people, but they didn’t know when – or if – they would show themselves.

Just as Travis thought that, there was a loud knock at the door. Katrina jumped several feet and ran to open it, conjuring her rod at her back in case something went wrong. She gradually opened the door and there was a very tall young man of about twenty with slightly wild, sky-blue hair that was tied in a bit of a ponytail. Along with him was a young woman with auburn hair, tan skin, and wearing a black lace headband.

“Where’s the kid?” the young man stepped in, shaking his head a bit because it had been raining quite hard outside. The young woman was behind her.

“Lorca! Are we glad to see you!” Travis exclaimed. “And Marcia’s with you, too. Congratulations, by the way. Sorry we couldn’t make it...”

“It’s alright, I understand – kind of a long trip, and with your bum leg and all...” Lorca sighed. “How’s your baby sister?”

“Screaming as loud as always,” Travis replied. “What about things on your end? I heard there was another wedding?”

“Lance and Fiona beat us by a month,” Lorca commented.


“That wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t taken so long to propose, Lorca,” Marcia piped in.

“Lance is twenty-seven,” Lorca replied. “That’s why he was in such a rush. In our city, if you’re a guy and haven’t even found a potential wife by twenty-five, people start wondering about you...”

“Who are these people?!?!” Marco suddenly shouted, making everyone in the room jump. He was on his feet and his fists were clenched.

“We’re your aunt and uncle, Lucas,” Lorca said loudly. The boy looked at Lorca, his golden eyes examining those of this so-called relative whom he had never met before.

“That’s what Shiro said Mom called me,” Marco said, still eyeing Lorca suspiciously. “Are you really...am I really...”

Lorca nodded. “I’ve got no reason to lie to you, kid,” he said.

“Can I see Lance, then – if he’s my uncle like you say?” Marco asked.

“Actually, that’s why we’re here –“ Lorca said. “We’re here to take you home with us – to Blackthorn City.”

Travis and Katrina both turned toward Lorca, looks of utter surprise on their faces.

“You’ll live with us from now on,” Marcia piped in and . “Come on – we’ll take care of you and you’ll be a Blackthorn. How does that sound, Marco?”

“Lucas,” Marco said flatly. “Call me Lucas from now on.”

OK? Right!

L@er!

[Lucarioman777]

Err, that was the last page of PR:J, wasn't it? Accursed McAfee blocked that! I hate McAfee.

Well, that clears things up a bit. For some reason, I was looking farther into the future than what I was supposed to. That, and I forgot about Marco. Oh well. Can't wait for your next chapter!

--Lucarioman777

[Oathblivion]

Darn, how do I reply to this...? I suppose that I'll just speak what went through my mind as I read the news: "Aw, that's sad. What about the guy's family and friends?" While I barely follow football anymore, and only knew Sean Taylor by the mention of a few of my peers, the fact that someone loved my so many was killed in such a tragic manner saddens my heart. This is like Steve Irwin all over again, man... *sniff*

Also, I'll give your comments on your themes a good amen. I've been on that side of the fence before, and I daresay that it garners such glares that you wouldn't believe. However useful when you don't feel like talking to people, exuding an aura a fraction of a degree above absolute zero isn't the best way to succeed in life. So, addressing any viewers of this post, give those loner people a simple "Hi" at the very least, just to show that someone cares, if a little.

As for the title change, please don't go with anything but Bloodfeud or Maverick Heart. I personally prefer Bloodfeud, for my liking of single-word and/or subordinate clause titles. Also, good luck on getting everything done, and don't worry about the PM list. Because Saber doesn't do one, I check my subscriptions after I log in every time I'm on. It doesn't take that much more energy to move my eyeballs down the list...

*isn't feeling creative* -Oath

[Diddy]

Well, sorry for any losses people may have had.

I was just listening to 'Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own' by U2, very sad song.

In fact, there was a rugby legend who played for my local super league team that died recently, I'm not a rugby fan but I can sort of feel what it's like.

Anyway, great chapter, with the big scary woman at the end.

cant seem to say anything else. so I'll leave it to next time.

[EonMaster One]

WARNING: This chapter, while good, contains major dosages of flashbacks. Therefore, if you didn’t read PRJ (or at least skim it), you might be a bit lost.

Chapter 23: A Destiny Accepted

June 19, PA 2013 – Verdanturf Town

“Hey! Long time no see!” Travis said loudly into his end.

“You’re telling me,” Shiro’s voice came loud and clear through the old videophone’s speaker. Travis coughed for a moment, which was met by, “Dude, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Travis grunted. “This thing’s full of dust – I don’t think it’s been used since before I was born.”

Shiro laughed.

“Madeline! How are you?” Katrina exclaimed to the girl through the wires to the next continent. “I’m loving what you did with your hair!!”

“Thanks,” Madeline replied with a smile, sweeping her few blonde bangs out of her eyes. “How are you?”

“Could be worse,” Katrina replied.

“Um…is Matt with you guys?” Madeline asked. “Have you seen him anywhere?”

“Well, he’s not with us, but he is here in Hoenn,” Travis said.

“Really?” Madeline looked like the knowledge of what Travis had told her had made her day.

“Yeah – actually, he was one of the first people I saw after we got here,” Travis answered.

“Your hair…Matt’s is a lot like it now, come to think of it,” Katrina commented.

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Madeline answered wryly. “He’s been trying to imitate me since we were babies. Wouldn’t think he had that much fashion sense, though. How does it look?”

“Not bad, actually,” Katrina said. “Oh – you know he has a girlfriend now, right?”

“He might have mentioned that the last time we talked. You guys beat her in the Golden Moon Tournament when we were all here in Goldenrod,” Madeline said.

“Yeah…” Travis sighed nostalgically. “That was…two years ago tomorrow, wasn’t it?”

“Sure was,” Shiro replied.

“Which reminds me – happy birthday, Shiro,” Travis said.

“I won again, if you were wondering,” Shiro said.

“Really? Congratulations,” Travis replied. Shiro was a skilled skateboarder – skilled enough to compete in the Junior Regional Tournament…and win…three times in a row.

“It’s no big deal,” Shiro sighed. “Not anymore, anyways. I put on a show for the fans, but it’s been a little bit flat ever since last year when Richter moved up to the pros.”

Richter was (if Travis remembered correctly) about sixteen or seventeen years old now, and had been an ongoing rival of Shiro’s ever since he had started competing.

“Speaking of which, I’ve got about five pro teams wanting to sign me,” Shiro added with a grin. “By this time next year, I’ll probably be on one of them. That means I get to travel and skate – my two favorite things in life, if you were wondering – except, now, I can get paid for it. Can’t get much of a better deal than that, right?”

“Can’t argue with you there,” Travis laughed.

“So, how’s life in Hoenn?” Shiro asked.

“Well, we’ve both got four badges, so I guess life could be a lot worse,” Travis answered, being careful not to give too much away.

“So I guess you heard, then, if you’ve been battling in the Gyms out there…” Shiro muttered.

Travis raised an eyebrow.

“Something about a guy getting blasted into an electric fence just to win the match,” Shiro said.

“Yeah – who’d do something like that?” Madeline echoed.

Travis and Katrina looked at each other, astonished at exactly how fast news could travel. Shiro figured the body language out immediately:

“Wait a sec…that was you??” Shiro questioned incredulously.

“Yeah…a couple of days ago,” Travis replied.

Shiro leaned in toward the screen. “Let me get this straight – you got yourself blasted and electrocuted for the sole purpose of winning a Gym match?”

“Yeah – that’s pretty much how it happened,” Travis answered calmly.

“I’ve seen some crazy stuff before, but, dude…that’s bad-***. I mean – that’s just, you know…seriously…bad-***,” Shiro said, sounding as if he was at a loss for words. “That’s some…bad-***, crazy ****.”

“I’ve been hanging around you too long,” Travis laughed.

“Me?” Shiro responded. “I’m not sure if I’d try something like that.”

“Shiro…” Madeline gave Shiro a knowing look with her jade-green eyes.

“Okay, maybe I would,” Shiro said. “So, you’re really that serious, huh?”

“Obviously,” Travis said. “I know I’m good enough. The question is how much I want it. No guts, no glory, right?”

“Or something like that,” Shiro shot back, earning appreciative laughs from all of his friends.

“Hey, it’s been great talking to you guys, but we’re kinda pressed for time,” Travis sighed, sorry that he had to end the conversation.

“Pressed for time? How?” Shiro asked.

“We’re…someone’s letting us use this videophone and I’m not sure how long it’s gonna be before her patience runs out,” Travis said quickly. “Talk to you later.”

“See ya,” Shiro said. “You two lovebirds have a happy anniversary!”

“We will…hopefully,” Travis replied, sounding a little bit distracted. “Oh – by the way…you know you have a little cousin now, right?”

“Of course – Landis,” Shiro answered. “I was one of the first people to know after he was born. I think I’ll swing through there before I leave Johto.”

“Yeah – you should do that,” Travis said. “Make sure to say high to everyone for me.”

“Can do,” Shiro affirmed with a nod. “See you around.”

“Bye,” Travis responded, pushing a red button and turning the phone off.

As Shiro watched the screen in front of him go black, one of Travis’ final comments left him a bit uneasy.

“What’s going on out there that would keep Travis and Katrina from enjoying their own anniversary?” Shiro asked.

“Dunno,” Madeline answered.

“Well, worrying about it won’t do much good,” Shiro said, standing up quickly.

“Where are you…we…going?” Madeline asked, sounding unsure.

“First, to Blackthorn City. I can’t pass up the chance to see Uncle Lance try to change a diaper. That’ll probably be funny as hell,” Shiro laughed.

“That sounds about right,” Madeline answered. “I’m sure your family’ll be happy to see you…”

“Happy, enough, maybe, to give us a lift,” Shiro commented, walking toward the stairs. “That’s what I’m banking on, anyway…”

“Ms. Arsham?”

“Hm? Whatcha need?”

“Do you know anything about a place named Carona?”

“Carona? Sure. Look at this map here.”

“That one to the west of Sinnoh?”

“Exactly.”

“It’s huge!

“Sure is – damn near bigger than all of Albara put together. And a bunch of smart folks, too. Almost all the gadgets we use, they had fifty, a hundred years ago.”

“Seriously?”

“Do you think I would lie to you?”

“…No, ma’am.”

“Alright, then. Carona’s interesting. It’s not as unified of a nation as here or in Sinnoh or the Twin States…”

“Really? So it doesn’t have, like, a president or king or council or anything like that?”

“Nothing. Carona’s more like what you’d call a confederacy. Each of the major cities in Carona is so large and has so many people that they can work on their own without the help of the others. Seems like it’d be an easy place to conquer, but you’d have to do it city by city and that’s where you’d get into trouble.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, first off, Carona’s got some hellish terrain between the cities. Rocky mountain cliffs, dense woods, a huge desert damn near the size of Johto itself, the occasional active volcano – you name it, it’s probably in Carona somewhere.”

“Yikes.”

“Second, Carona’s cities have weapons and defenses that the rest of the world hasn’t even dreamt up yet. And third…Carona’s cities might be mostly independent, but the alliances between those cities are strong. An attack on one city in Carona is still an attack on Carona itself.”

Travis sat up straight on the bed. The soldiers were still sleeping. He looked around for a clock to see what time it was.

5:00 on the dot. The sun wouldn’t be up yet – perfect.

He leapt to the ground and his bare feet felt the hardness and coldness of the wooden floor. His sword was leaning in a corner next to his bed, which was right next to a dusty window in the far corner of the room. He grabbed the ancestral blade in his hands, felt its warmth and breathed in its overwhelming sacredness and the madness that came with it for a second or two…

And then laid it down on the floor. With a well-aimed foot, he gently slid it well under his bed, out of his sight…

And, for today, out of his heart.

While he was here, he felt a certain duty to help Elrik and the others with the matters at hand, especially since it seemed that they were one Imperial move away from a crisis situation. Today, though…today, he couldn’t do it. Today, it really couldn’t be his war. Today was too important to him.

He couldn’t fight – not today.

June 21, PA 2013 – Verdanturf Town, Arsham’s Estate

The meeting had adjourned. Every evening, the ‘important figures’ in the Emerald Knights convened and discussed the day’s happenings, as well as the future of the knights. Travis and Katrina had been allowed – more like invited – to sit in on these meetings, which actually worked out very well. They were able to warn Elrik about the intents and cryptic words of Darris Klein. This was welcome information, as it confirmed in the minds of Elrik and the other leaders that they had to make their next move swiftly. According to Darris (and information Travis had received from Reivyn), if Edgar learned how to work the true power of Rayquaza’s sword, their chances for retaking the throne for Elrik were slim to none. At the end of this council, Elrik implied that he and the Emerald Knights appreciated Travis’ aid and would be looking for more assistance from him. While Travis expected this, it was also the last thing he wanted to hear on this particular day. Therefore, when the meeting was over and everyone except the widowed owner of the estate had left, Travis and Katrina approached her.

“Ms. Arsham?” Travis said to the middle-aged woman, who was rolling up a scroll of sorts and putting it away.

“It’s…Travis and Katrina, right? Do you need something, missy?” Arsham spoke straight to the girl, who looked like she wanted to talk first.

“We need a favor…” she said, sounding uncommonly timid.

“Another favor? As if I’m not doing everyone staying in my house enough favors already! But I’m feeling rather generous this week, so if it’s not ridiculous or out of my reach, I might be able to help you,” Arsham laughed, responding in her normal, abrasive manner.

“It’s nothing big, but…we want to be able to…sort of disappear tomorrow,” Katrina said.

“Disappear?” Arsham didn’t seem to understand.

“You heard what the Prince said…that he’ll be relying on us more and more,” Katrina answered. “We’re both ready to take on a responsibility like that, but…”

“But what?” Arsham asked when Katrina trailed off. The younger girl had her eyes closed and her face contorted as if she was trying to keep herself from crying. As a result, Katrina’s request came out as sort of a cracking whisper.

“Ms. Arsham…tomorrow’s a special day for us. It’s our second anniversary, and I don’t think either of us could bear it if we were asked to help someone fight a war this time. We’ve already done it once and…”

“I knew there was more to you two than meets the eye,” Arsham commented. “Why the hell else would a rebel army let two kids your age sit in on their meeting? You don’t mind telling me what happened, do you?”

Katrina, still blinking back tears, turned to Travis, obviously leaving the decision to tell his story up to him.

Katrina winced as she felt the bow on her back being tightened much too forcefully by the strong hands of one of the young guardswomen that she had been forced to room with for the last couple of nights. The first night, they had treated her somewhat like a small child, but they had begun to take to her because of her participation in the Council the other night. One young woman in particular had made it a point to help her out whenever she needed it.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” the young guardswoman (not dressed in her armor yet) told her. The young woman had short, strawberry blonde hair and could have been twenty at a great stretch.

“Thanks, Amelia,” Katrina said, studying herself in the mirror. She turned her back to see a perfectly-tied bow on the back of her halter top. This particular shirt flared out and lost its rigidity at the hips sort of like a skirt. Nonetheless, she wore her black Capri pants with the outfit. Some of her hair was tied in white lace and hung around her ears, which were decorated with two gold earrings adorned with crescent moons.

“We’re the minority, so we have to stick together,” Amelia said. “I may be a soldier, but I’m still a woman.”

“Didn’t you say something about having a younger sister?” Katrina asked, turning around.

“I do…back in Sootopolis,” Amelia answered. “I was the tomboy of my family, but Ariana’s a lot like you. She’s really strong-willed – almost stubborn. I wish I could go home to visit her, but obviously…if I go back to Sootopolis with the way things are, I might put my entire family at risk. They know what I’m doing, but they’ve been acting like I died in a boating accident.”

“So, of course, you protect Lady Ivanna, right?” Katrina asked.

“We protect whoever needs protecting…but, yeah. We mainly protect the important women in the Emerald Knights, like Lady Ivanna, Ms. Arsham, and you,” Amelia said. Katrina was a bit surprised that her name would be included.

“Me?” she repeated.

“You and your boyfriend are more important to our cause than you think,” Amelia replied. “And speaking of your boyfriend…don’t take this the wrong way, but he’s a looker. You’re not worried about any…competition?”

“No,” Katrina said with a smile. “We’ve been through too much together.”

“Two years is a long time,” Amelia remarked. “Especially for someone your age.”

“Actually, the last two years have gone by really quickly…” Katrina responded. Her eyes slightly downcast and her smile gone, she added, “…for better or worse.”

Amelia gave Katrina a slight smile of pity.

“You’re both really fortunate, you know,” she said. “To have each other, I mean.”

“Thanks…I guess,” Katrina sighed, making for the door and turning the knob. She hesitated when a rather harsh creak rang through the room, looking back to see if she had awoken anyone else. She then slipped through the small space she had created for herself and slowly pulled the door shut.

She let out a sigh as her baby-blue orbs studied the second floor corridor, peering down into the dim light that illuminated the end of the hall and indicated the center of the mansion, which was always very bright at daytime because of the huge, almost chapel-like glass window that was at the center of the mansion’s front. Appropriately enough, the mansion seemed to have a green motif. There was the occasional dust, which was fine – in terms of living conditions, she’d seen a whole lot worse.

Besides, it wasn’t always the condition of the house that affected one’s condition of living, Katrina remembered. The house and the nearby Emerald Knights’ camp were almost like a huge family. There had definitely been a change in the atmosphere since the move from Rustboro. The soldiers seemed even more convinced that they were fighting for peace. Roald and Rashid, who were the chief messengers because of their horsemanship, rode around the camp passing on and giving orders. Elrik discussed strategy with Master Hong and his two students (all of whom Katrina had been introduced to the previous day).

The most drastic change, however, had obviously been wrought in Ivanna.

In the Romero Mansion, she had been a stiff, businesslike soldier with a penchant for giving orders and for working her troops to the bone, but more recently, she seemed to be more publically in touch with her own humanity, if not quite her own womanhood. A month ago, she was a stern autocrat with an apparent, passionate dislike for frivolity and leisure. Today, she directly aided the young conscripts, showing them sword technique and encouraging them in their work and in their cause. She even smiled and cracked a joke or two with her longtime childhood friend, Rashid.

The soldiers may not have been sure what happened to her (they weren’t about to ask and risk changing a good thing), but Katrina was certain. After all, she’d gone through nearly the same thing, hadn’t she?

A panacea greater than love does not exist…and one is never as thirsty for this healing water than when it hangs there, seemingly just out of reach.

Elusive…

Evasive.

For years, they had grown up together. For years they had taken some of the same classes, learned some of the same material, seen and heard some of the same things. For years, their hands and their childish hearts danced around each other tensely and awkwardly, like underdressed commoners at a grand ball. They were friends, but they observed each other from a distance as they found out more about themselves. After a while, her life began to crumble around her. Her identity was stripped and she was laid bare, in the world with no one. It started to enter her head – the thought that maybe they were not meant to be after all.

Thus, she started looking elsewhere – nearly two years of sorrow and lost time.

But she didn’t regret it now.

Everything that is meant to happen does so in its own time. This was no different.

‘That time’ was two years ago today – a night she will remember for the rest of her life. It was the night that she poured out her shattered heart to him…and he accepted it with open arms, mended it, and held it close to him like a bird with a broken wing.

That was the day…

June 21, PA 2011 – Goldenrod City, Johto

“Your mother is...” Katrina muttered.

“Yeah – three months pregnant,” Travis finished. “But in any case, what I’m saying is, after some stuff happens, you can’t live your life the same. You’ve gotta get back to square one and then go from there.”

“That’s interesting – oh, look sharp, we’re almost there,” Katrina suddenly pointed to the square in front of the Galleria, where the parade would end. Shiro’s float had gotten there second, turned lengthwise and spaced itself from the empty float just enough for their float to fit in the middle. After their float did so, they were facing a rather sizable multitude of people who had followed them (some from all the way across town). They were, of course, still cheering. Travis looked at Katrina, who was now making a better attempt to smile.

“Close the book on that stuff,” Travis whispered as the two of them were asked to stand.

“Now, the moment we’ve all been waiting for!” Travis didn’t know this guy’s voice, but it sounded television-worthy, which scared Travis a bit. “Will Goldenrod City’s oldest living former king please come forward with the crowns?”

A man with a beard and long, gray hair – a man that had a kind of sagely look to him – hobbled over from the float to Travis’ right, carrying a diadem and a golden tiara, each adorned with a golden crescent moon.


“May I present...the winner of the 84th Golden Moon Tournament, King Victor D. Rondell!” The master of ceremonies (whom Travis still didn’t see yet) shouted. Boy, that was a long time ago – if he was counting correctly, that was when his grandfather was just a toddler...! It was at this moment that Travis’ heart started beating a bit more quickly. Of course, he himself was nervous – he didn’t expect to have to deal with crowds this big until he went to the Crystal Cup Championships. But part of him was nervous for Katrina. Would this help her to let go of all the problems that weren’t her own?

No. Not this alone. Travis would have to do something else – something he should have done a long time ago...

Before Travis knew it, he was asked to kneel. He felt a cold, hard weight as the crown was placed on his head. He stood to cheers like he had never heard before in his life. The only cheers louder than these, Travis was thinking in that moment, was the noise generated when a new Johto Champion was announced. He looked at Katrina (who had been separated from him for a few moments) for a second, then made up his mind.

“Sir,” he whispered to the old King, “Could I please have the tiara? I want to crown her myself.”

“But that’s never been done before, young man,” Rondell said sternly.

“It doesn’t matter. This is something I feel I have to do.”

“Well...” Rondell finally gave in after a long silence. “Something special for the young lady, eh? You’d be doing me a favor. These old bones don’t move like they used to anymore...”

He gave the tiara to Travis, who held it as delicately as if it was a glass treasure. The master of ceremonies, whose eyes finally caught those of Travis’, gave the latter a rather bewildered expression for a long and awkward moment. Travis nodded, gesturing him to go on with the ceremony.

“Will the candidate for Queen please kneel?” The master finally spoke, and everything went quiet, save for a few hushed whispers once the crowd realized that Travis (and not Rondell) had the tiara. Travis approached Katrina and knelt in front of her.

“You deserve this more than anyone I know,” he said, placing the tiara on Katrina’s head perfectly and standing up.

“May I present to you...the King and Queen of the 142nd Golden Moon Festival!” The master of ceremonies shouted. Travis helped Katrina to her feet and heard a sniffle. When Katrina looked at him, tears were welling up in her eyes again. Travis wiped them away with his own hand and looked straight at her. There was nothing else to explain. All that was left was to say it.

“I love you,” he said.

Katrina looked shocked for about a second, then her lip began to quiver. Travis inched closer and Katrina met him, kissing him right on the lips.

That was when time stopped for both of them. Everyday life and the pain and trials thereof no longer existed. The golden moon shining above them...no longer existed. It was as if the cosmos itself no longer existed.

For him, it should have been a dream come true. Ever since he was a small boy who had nothing to him but his name, and she was a small girl raised almost like a princess, he had felt strangely about her. He didn’t understand it growing up. He didn’t know why, back when they were small children, his and Shiro’s friendship nearly ended when the latter hurt Katrina (who, at that point, was only the rich girl across town) while using his roller skates. He didn’t know why, back when they were ten going on eleven, he had shut himself in his room and refused to talk to anyone when he had found out that Katrina and Nate were seeing a lot more of each other. He didn’t know why, when he was twelve and the aforementioned pair had a falling out, he felt an occasional desire to do bodily harm to the latter of the two. He didn’t know why, just recently, her status with him and Shiro had been restored despite the fact that she had been quite close with someone that he outright hated at some points. But now he understood, and it made him feel decades wiser – twelve going on forty.

For her, she felt a burden lifted off of her shoulders. Of the two boys that she was best friends with, she had always been closer to him. Even when she was with Nate, having her first experience at what one would call a steady relationship, she felt that something had been missing. This was a new experience for her, but it hardly felt that way. After everything that she had gone through the past couple of years, she felt rather like a traveler who had finally gotten rid of heavy bags – because, after journeying far and wide, she had come back to where she never should have left. She had come back home.

The first thing that Travis noticed on the outside world (after about what felt like an eternity) was the loud, collective sigh of “Awww............” coming from the crowd, whom he had again forgotten was even there. The second thing he noticed was a laugh. Katrina was laughing and smiling and, like this year’s golden moon, was shining more brightly and more beautifully than ever. Katrina had laid it all to rest, right there, and Travis could see the difference immediately. The color had returned to her face. Even her hair had some of its pep back.

“I love you, too,” she said to him, throwing her arms around him and laughing for the first time in what seemed like ages. Then they heard a deafening BANG and broke apart.

Seemingly right on cue, the fireworks show had started from the roof of the Galleria. Travis and Katrina smiled at each other, held hands, and looked up at the amazing display of light. Shiro and Madeline joined them. The latter was beaming, and the former, as he looked at his best friends, had a sly smirk on his face that was clearly saying, “It’s about time.”

Perhaps there was a small twinge of sadness as the three friends from New Bark Town looked at each other. They each knew the meaning of what had just happened. At best, things would stay like this for a long time – but they would never, ever return to the way that they had been before. Gone were the times when Shiro would let Travis hop on the back of his bike and ride all the way across town to visit Katrina. Gone were the days when Travis saved his allowance for nearly half a year just to buy her poinsettias for her birthday since it fell in December – and gone were the moments when she would take the flowers and her face would match the color of her hair for reasons that Travis was too juvenile to understand. Gone was the time that Travis had fallen as ill as he’s ever been in his short life. Gone was the day that Katrina, extremely worried, walked herself all the way down to Barkton Terrace because her father was too busy to drive her from the other side of town, with a get well card and a valentine. Today had been a rite of passage.

“Well, I guess this is the end of the good, old days,” Shiro said with a poignance unheard from him before.

“I guess so...” Katrina muttered, sounding rather flat because the two emotional opposites that were going through her heart right now were offsetting each other.

“That’s okay,” Travis said. “I bet you anything that the ‘good, new days’ will be even better than the old ones.”

Because, finally, in the eyes of the people and in the eyes of obstinate Fate, everything was as it was supposed to be.



The golden moon stood high above the sky colored with exploding shells of light, bouncing around under the stars in bright tones of silver, gold, red, sky blue, green, violet…

They had retreated from amidst the commotion and din of the party and had sat on a bench, separated a bit from the crowd. Travis and Katrina sat in silence, each still trying to take it all in. Strangely, they had not said anything to each other for nearly half an hour since it had happened. It was as if they both knew that whatever they said would be significant…world-shattering, even more so than what had already happened that night. Katrina, finally, was the first to speak.

“I guess this means…” she muttered a bit timidly, “…it means that we’re…”

Katrina trailed off, but Travis knew exactly what she meant.

“You mean…” he hesitated. “You mean – like, you’re my girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” Katrina replied, her cheeks slightly red. “That’s what I was saying.”

Travis took a couple of seconds to respond.

“I didn’t think you’d be…ready,” he finally said.

“I was ready,” Katrina said, clasping Travis’ hand. With a smile, she added. “You took a long time, though.”

She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed. Looking up to the sky, where fireworks, stars, and streetlamps bathed them both in floods of light, Travis felt her against his shoulder, felt her hair tickle his neck, and saw her open her mouth slightly. He reached up his free hand and briefly stroked her cheek. At this, she opened her baby-blue eyes and smiled at him.

“Sorry I kept you waiting,” he said. They approached each other rather slowly, each of them still unsure about kissing the other, as they had only done it once and in a rather emotional moment. When it happened, though, Travis (who seemed to be the more nervous of the two) went with the flow…or tried to, anyway. Awkwardly, he backed off – but she pursued him. It was probably at that point that what had just happened fully hit him. Whenever he had fantasized about asking her out successfully, it was always more of a consent on her part. This story didn’t echo in reality. She wanted to be with him every bit as much as he wanted to be with her. Maybe this was why she was involved with Nate for so long. She wanted to get his attention. He wished he had known that…

There were a lot of things that he wished that he had known before…

This one was at the top of the list.

[EonMaster One]

June 21, PA 2013 – Verdanturf Town, Hoenn

Travis ruffled his cobalt hair with his hand, groaning slightly in frustration. His hair, which had lengthened ever so slightly, trailed off to the left, resulting in a fringe very characteristic of the subculture he loathed most. No matter how many times he tried to adjust it, though…it always fell the same way.

“Damn,” he swore to himself, trying to flatten it once again.

“You’re really obsessed with your hair, you know that?” Katrina said, emerging from the second floor hallway. Travis, who was facing an ornate mirror next to the door, whirled around and saw her standing at the top of the stairs. There was a slight lull, then the both of them ran toward each other, meeting at the bottom of the stairs and falling into each other’s arms.

“Happy anniversary,” Travis said, stroking Katrina’s hair. “Did you sleep alright?”

“The best I have in two or three days,” Katrina answered. “Safety makes all the difference.”

“Sure does,” Travis said, turning toward the door. “Let’s slip off while we still can. The soldiers should be waking up soon. By the way…”

“Hm?” Katrina looked up at him as he played with the laced portions of her hair.

“You look beautiful,” he said. She allowed herself a brief giggle and took hold of his hand.



They ventured out through the town. The sun wasn’t up yet, so neither were the denizens of Verdanturf. It seemed as if they were the only ones on the planet right now…and that, they didn’t mind much. For now, they wanted to be alone, as long as they were alone together.

They searched the east side of town for the highest hill they could find and, when they reached it (on the southeastern edge of Verdanturf) they seated themselves there. The clear sky in front of them was mainly a dark blue, but a fiery horizon signaled that day was going to break in a manner of minutes.

With these few stolen moments of peace and silence, they could reflect on how far they had come…and think about the future.

“Two years,” Katrina sighed nostalgically, her cerulean eyes on the flaming horizon before her. “I can’t believe it’s been two years already.”

“It’s gone by so quick,” Travis said. With a bit of a laugh, he added, “My hat’s off to you. I didn’t think you’d be able to deal with me this long.”

“I’d be lying if I said it was easy,” Katrina replied. Even though she was smiling, there seemed to be a palpable angst written on her face and audible in her voice. “These last two years have been the hardest I’ve ever experienced…even tougher than the two before that.”

She was referring, of course, to 2009, when she inadvertently found out about her status as an adoptee. Moreover, she had found out at the same time that her biological mother (named Leanna, as she would come to find out later) had ended her young life as a prostitute, which had resulted in one pregnancy – a pregnancy that culminated with the birth of Katrina herself. Hearing this revelation had an adverse effect on the eleven-year-old girl, who sank into a deep depression and was on the point of self-mutilation until she became involved with Nathaniel Elm, a twelve-year-old classmate and her neighbor from the wealthy neighborhood of Gilchrist Heights – a classmate whose dislike for Travis and Shiro, once Katrina’s closest friends, was in every way reciprocated by the two boys. She thought that Nate would be her savior, but as it turned out, he was an immature failure who saw her as nothing more than a trophy. It took nearly two entire years for her to realize what was happening…why she never felt anything around Nate…

It was because her heart, even at that young age, already belonged to someone else.

It already belonged to him.

Of course, he didn’t know that. Travis, at that point, was a normal preteen boy. Of course, his grandfather happened to be a former Johto Champion, and he was a supremely talented student with an apparent bright future in Pokémon Training – but those were really the two only interesting things about him besides his unique hair. He was friends with Katrina and, although he had a slight crush on her, tried his best to be content with the way things were.

Then, two years ago today, the entire story had come out. As it had turned out, they indeed felt the same about each other. For the following two or three days, both were happy – even Travis, who was slightly worried about the looming threat of the demonic dictator Angelos and his forces.

Then they reached Ecruteak…

June, PA 2011 -- Ecruteak City

Travis halfway expected to be looking up, but this ‘tower’ had to only be about two or three stories, if that. It could have been one tall floor without any windows. It was nestled between two large trees, had stairs leading downward to the door, and had the overall look of the ruin of some sacred shrine. It looked like a picture of Ho-oh was carved into the stone door from here. Speaking of the door, it didn’t have a knob...so how the hell were they supposed to get in? Travis started walking toward the door. He didn’t hear any more footsteps after awhile, so he stopped.

“You guys aren’t coming?” Travis asked.

“No use in that,” Lorca said. “The sword is ‘sealed’, remember?”

“Crap…knew there was some kind of wrinkle…” Travis muttered to himself.

“We’ll stand guard here,” Shiro piped up.

“Stand guard?” Travis repeated.

“C’mon – use your brain here,” Shiro said. “You think Angelos is going to let you take that sword without a fight?”

Travis stood in silence for a second. It had been all too easy recently – Angelos had been building strength. “Good point,” Travis said. Suddenly thinking of something, he walked over to Shiro and pulled him aside. Then, he got right next to his ear and whispered a grave warning.

“Shiro, you’re the best friend a guy could ever have. But if anything happens to Katrina, then the first
thing I’m doing after I get that sword is cutting your head off.”

Shiro smirked. “I saw that one coming. Don’t worry. I still remember how to open a can on some guys, if that’s how it’s gonna go down.”

Travis nodded, backed away from Shiro, then turned around and started into the tower, Angel in tow.

“<You’re sure getting a knack for dramatic exits,>” Angel commented.

“I’m not dramatic, I’m just honest,” Travis replied. “Now, how the heck do you open this door…?”

“<I can help with that,>” Angel said, her eyes glowing white. She was obviously attempting to use Confusion to relocate the big stone slab elsewhere. After a few seconds of struggling, though, she realized that it was too heavy. “<Or not.>”

“...Damn,” Travis sighed, banging his right fist on the door. Suddenly, the emblem on his right hand appeared and glowed, and the door began to shake. Travis watched in awe as the stone slab fell into the ground, pulled by some invisible power. Standing in front of him was a doorway that, perhaps, would give a person of rather large girth trouble. But for his size, it allowed plenty of space. He walked in, and Angel quickly followed.



“Holy...” Travis turned around. A few steps in, and the door had closed behind him. He whirled around to face in toward the room, which was quite large and unadorned, save for an enormous stone statue of Ho-oh in the middle. He looked up. He could barely see the ceiling, which meant that this was one big room. “Where’s the sword?”

Travis looked right – he saw no stairs or doorways leading anywhere. He looked left – nothing. He took a couple of steps forward and held his right fist up to the Ho-oh statue, thinking that the power of whatever-the-hell rune thingy that was on his right hand would trigger something as it had last time. Nothing. Growing frustrated, Travis moved around the statue. He saw nothing on the far part of the room.

“<Still nothing?>” Angel asked.

“C’mon!!” Travis shouted, punching the statue of Ho-oh, whose foundation was taller than Travis himself. Travis flailed his hand, which now hurt like all hell because of hitting solid rock. He blew on his knuckles to ease the burning, and while he was leaning on the statue back-first, he suddenly felt himself falling backwards. The statue had moved. The split-second that Travis realized that he was at the top of a flight of stairs was nowhere near enough to react, and with a heart that was dropping even faster than he was, Travis fell. He groaned as he hit every third, fourth, or other step falling backwards, and after about seven seconds of this, he landed on the floor below with a THUD that was so resounding that Travis wouldn’t have been surprised if it was heard outside and that the others were standing at the door of this sealed temple wondering what the hell happened.

“<Hey, you okay?>” Travis, whose ears were ringing, heard Angel’s voice from above.

“I just fell – gah – down about fifty stairs back-first. What do you think?” Travis groaned. Every part of his body hurt like heck. He had hit his head so many times that he was seeing somewhere between double and triple. His back hurt like he’d been trying to carry a Snorlax up a mountain, and his rear end felt as if he’d been sitting still on a hard wooden bench for days on end. He had hit his elbows so badly that he knew that both of his arms were hurting – he just couldn’t feel them. And the worse sensation of all was the feeling that he’d left his stomach up at the top of the stairs, right under the statue. After about what had to have been a minute but felt like longer, Travis stood up and began to shake off the cobwebs. After he had finally gotten his bearings, he looked around at the room. It was lit by candles that lined the walls. This was bizarre, as it was obvious that no one had been here in at least months. At the opposite end of the room was a large, altar-like structure between two large lamps. In the middle was a sword.

Paulus’ sword.

His sword.

He walked up to the altar. He could hear his every footstep echo through the underground chamber. He saw his shadow flow along the walls anywhere that he could see light. Then he reached it. It looked like a large, stone ark, carved with ornate drawings and runic symbols. His hand was shining so brightly that he had to squint to see the sword in front of him. He tried his best to grasp the hilt instead of grabbing any part of the sword that would cause him to lose one or more fingers. He found the sword’s hilt and yanked it out. He held it gingerly in two hands and saw that it was, down to every last detail, the sword that had been an emblem on his right hand for the last month. He felt at peace suddenly. A small draft passed by him and ruffled his white coat, which he was still wearing. He had finally reached it. With a smile, he turned around and fell backward up onto the altar in shock of what he saw…

The sword…

His gift…his curse.

“I know it hasn’t been easy,” Travis said. “There were a lot of things I wish I could have done differently, but…”

“That’s enough blaming yourself,” Katrina cut him off. “You did the best that you could.”

“Did I?” Travis queried, half asking the question to himself. “Did I do everything I could? I mean, if I’d known everything that I knew now…”

“It’s not like you can go back and change anything,” Katrina said, placing a comforting arm on his shoulder. “No one could have expected any more of you, Travis.”

The boy looked ahead, a monstrous kind of focus in his eyes.

“…When I killed Angelos…he had no one. But what about these Imperial soldiers? They might be on the wrong side, yeah, but they’ve got families. They’ve got people who love them like anyone else would,” Travis worried.

“They’re all soldiers – on both sides,” Katrina said. “That means they’re willing to die for…whatever cause they’re fighting for.”

“You’re right…” Travis muttered. After a few moments, he said, “Katrina?”

“Hm?” the girl uttered. Travis fumbled around for what to say to her next – “thank you”…“I love you”…something…but he couldn’t find anything strong enough. He couldn’t find any words that would do justice to how he felt about her, so he just stared at her for a moment in complete silence. His throat began to clench and his eyes began to burn as he tore them away from her and stared out at the sunrise. He couldn’t talk anymore. Every time he thought of words, they would leave something out…they would hold something back.

There were no words in his or any other language to encapsulate everything he had felt since that moment under the stars two years ago…

The happiness that they were together…

The pain of the past…

The worry of the present…

The concern for the future…

The healing touch her existence gave him, and the pain of losing someone else very dear…

And his love for her, which went above, around, and beyond all of these things…

Thus, he remained silent, staring out at the sunrise, marveling at the stopping power a combination of such emotions could have on one’s spirit. He gulped one more time. Tears sat at the corners of his eyes, burning like tiny needles, but not quite falling to the ground. These were not quite tears of joy, but neither were they tears of sorrow. These existed because there had to be some sort of cleansing…a catharsis to keep his heart from rending itself in two.

He felt enormously stupid. Here it was, their second anniversary, and all he could think to do was to sit silently and let his eyes water. It was humiliating, shameful, and maybe even a bit selfish…

Then something happened. He felt his hand in hers, and saw her eyes lock on his.

With no further hesitation, as if he had been bursting to do so and had been denied for days upon end, he leaned in to her. She accepted the kiss and returned it warmly, and then more passionately. After a while, she overtook him and he was flat on his back, looking up at her face, pink and white against a golden dawn sky.

In his world, she was that first, bright ray of sunshine after the storm had ended. She was the whisper in the wind that said that everything was going to be alright…the tidal wave washing his world clean after days, weeks of dry wilderness.

“You are…” Travis sighed, stroking her face. “…so…beautiful.”

She raised her head, her chin resting right on his chest, and looked down at him, uttering the single cutest laugh he had heard from her in all their years of knowing each other.

“What’s up with you?” he laughed. She rested her arms on his chest and, leaning on them, looked down at him.

“My prediction came true,” she said.

“Prediction?” Travis asked.

“I told you last year…” Katrina explained. “That, today, we’d be celebrating our anniversary somewhere different.”

Travis thought back…a stone Suicune fountain and a long conversation about the future…

“You’re not going to say…’I told you so,’ are you?” Travis asked. Katrina said.

“I’ll spare you…this time,” she answered with a mischievous smile.



They were unaware of a presence at the bottom of the hill – a royal presence.

For most of this time, Elrik and Ivanna, both dressed casually (at least, for nobles), had been watching them from afar. Ivanna’s hair, as it always did, fell in springy curls to her shoulders, while Elrik’s was long and brown, tied with a band into a ponytail.

Ivanna smiled as she watched the two young sweethearts enjoy each other’s company, laughing and talking and seemingly blocking out the world around them..

“They really do love each other, don’t they?” Ivanna asked. “It’s kind of cute.”

Elrik smiled, grasping Ivanna’s hand.

“I think it was when I saw them that I realized that I had to tell you how I felt,” Elrik said. Ivanna turned her head and looked at him. “With everything that’s happening, I’m never sure what’s going to happen to us tomorrow, or a week from now. A week from now, I could be king…somehow – or dead, for that matter. That’s the reality of it. Either way, I wouldn’t want to have to live or die thinking about what could have been.”

“I can understand that,” Ivanna answered with a smile. “But, what do we do next? We’re stuck here in Verdanturf, and we can’t run anywhere…”

“I’m working on it,” Elrik sighed. “The only thing I can think to do is to make sure the few troops we have are prepared for an assault on Verdanturf, and…”

“That approach will only work for so long,” Elrik jumped as he heard a voice loudly cover the distance between himself and the boy and girl several yards away from him…and closing. Seconds later, Travis and Katrina were in clear view, the former with a calm, collected, but determined look in his eyes. “If you know this is going to come to a fight eventually, you can’t wait for it to come to you.”

“What are you saying?” Elrik asked.

“This is the perfect situation,” Travis said, his eyes gaining this nearly unreasonable quality for them. “How many Imperial soldiers are there in Verdanturf? Zero. A place this small that the Imperials don’t bother…they just gave you a huge opening.”

“You’re confusing me,” Elrik said, shaking his head slightly. “What do you mean by ‘opening’?”

Travis took a deep breath.

“I think it’s time to reveal yourself to the people,” he finally said. Katrina, Ivanna, and Elrik all looked at him, dumbstruck, as he began to walk past them toward Arsham’s estate again.

“But, if he does that, the Imperials…” Ivanna started, but the boy cut her off.

“…won’t know, will they?” he questioned. “Verdanturf is a beautiful, peace-loving town. They value their peace more than anything else. If they find out that it might be threatened, though…it might spur them to do something about it.”

“How do you know that for sure?” Ivanna asked.

“Because, that’s exactly what I’m going through,” Travis said, turning around with a determined look in his eyes. “I want peace for myself and the people I care about, and I’m tired of seeing it threatened by people who want slavery. I’m done dealing with it. At first, I tried to believe that this wasn’t my fight, but I can’t sit around and do nothing anymore. This is personal.”

“Alright – so you’re willing to send my soldiers to die for your peace?” Ivanna asked. Disdainfully, she said, “Sounds to me like you’re no better than Edgar.”

Katrina nearly lost her temper.

“Don’t you dare accuse him like –” she started to yell, but Travis held up a calming hand.

“Actually, I think you and I are more alike than you think,” Travis replied in a businesslike, almost cold, tone of voice. “I also realize that you’re fighting for someone you love, too.”

Ivanna’s face went red and she shrank back. Katrina noticed this.

“Why is that so shameful to you?” she asked the older woman.

“Yeah – that’s a good question,” Travis said.

“I’m supposed to be a soldier first,” Ivanna said robotically.

“That’s your excuse?” Travis asked, sounding almost amused. “You’re a soldier?”

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to respect your elders?” Ivanna asked.

Travis burst into laughter – a laughter that drove everyone to silence and made them all wonder if he had it all together.

“You know,” he laughed, “this is the ultimate in irony. You telling me to listen to you because you’ve seen more than I have? I guarantee that you haven’t.”

“Irony? What the hell are you talking about?” Ivanna queried harshly.

“What’s ironic is that Katrina and I have been in a situation just like yours,” Travis said, the smile gone from his face.

Elrik looked at him strangely.

“Do you really want to know how I got that sword?” Travis asked. “Why I am who I am today? Someone like you who tries to keep her feelings hidden might not be able to handle it.”

“Try me,” Ivanna said.

Travis turned around.

“Fine, then.”

As they reached the estate, Travis was finishing the story that it felt like he’d told a thousand times just to establish credibility as someone to whom everyone should listen.

“I’d forgotten…” Elrik said, sounding ashamed. “I’d forgotten that you had fought a war before.”

“We’d like to forget, too, sometimes,” Travis admitted. “But experience is helpful in times like this.”

“Experience?” Ivanna scoffed. “Did those tin cans you fought do it as well as my knights?”

Travis turned around, slightly annoyed.

“I can’t say,” he conceded. “Those things couldn’t feel fear or pain, get cold or wet or hungry or sleepy or tired…but they didn’t know about honor or justice – and they couldn’t love anybody.”

Ivanna gasped and her eyes darted to Elrik.

“That’s the difference between your soldiers and Edgar’s,” Travis explained. “Edgar’s soldiers are fighting for Edgar’s vision of an Empire. Yours, on the other hand, have families – fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters…maybe even wives, husbands, and children of their own. They’re fighting for their vision of Hoenn and for the people they care about. You are, too, aren’t you? So, you’re no different from them.”

He knocked on the door loudly three times. It was a few seconds before the monolithic door opened, revealing the face of a girl of about seventeen with red hair.

“Reivyn?” Travis questioned. “It’s good to see you.”

Reivyn didn’t look like she was in the mood.

“I looked all over this estate for you – there’s a problem,” she said.

They all walked in and saw that a group of five or six soldiers seemed to be arguing with the rest of the ones that were in the foyer of the mansion. With a total of about thirty men and women in armor, it was quite a scene.

“Maybe if we go back to the Empire and beg for mercy, they’ll spare us our lives!” one of the soldiers said.

“Looks like some people are thinking about deserting – Travis?” Katrina looked, but he was already gone.



Travis yanked the sword out from under his bed and stared at it intently. There was a sort of recklessness driving him – it felt a lot like two years ago, when he gave the order for the battle plan that led to the Battle at the Plains of Jonah. He wanted to fight – not so he could fight, but so he could win. He stared down at the sword with a fire in his eyes.

“Here we go again,” he muttered to himself, making for the door with all haste.



“Edgar’s soldiers outnumber us nearly a hundred to one!” the would-be deserter continued to shout in an attempt to persuade others to follow him. “This battle was doomed from the beginning!!”

“You seriously think Edgar will spare you if you go back to him?” a young man’s voice sounded from the center of the crowd of soldiers. They parted to reveal a youth of only seventeen with short, strawberry-blond hair and hard, dark blue eyes. “You’re a fool.”

“I don’t want to hear it from you, Hadley!” the other soldier’s voice shouted. “Your father deserted the King, too, so you have no right to talk!”

“If your argument’s with me, why bring my father into it?” Hadley asked. “You’re treading dangerous ground, Brandford. You’ve always been a coward, and you’re proving it right now!”

“There’s a difference between being brave and being an unrealistic numbskull with nothing but pipe dreams for the future!” Brandford shouted. He was a young man in his twenties with spiky, black hair. He was also slightly short and very well-built, whereas Hadley was lanky, but building muscle. “This is our reality! If Elrik would have made the better king, he’d be king right now, wouldn’t he? But he’s got us running around from place to place like dogs with our tails between our legs. Damn it all, we don’t even know if this guy really is Prince Elrik.”

“Are you calling His Majesty a liar?” Hadley asked.

“It hurts me that the late King could produce a son like that,” Brandford said.

“That’s enough!!” Hadley shouted, drawing his sword. “Your words border on treason.”

“I’m loyal to the king, aren’t I? The true, rightful king,” Brandford replied. “Unlike certain family members of yours…”

Hadley charged with a roar. Charlus Brandford drew his sword as well and blocked. The soldiers behind Brandford all rushed Hadley, throwing him backward and to the ground. Brandford raised his sword.

In a flash and a smattering of screams, a flaming sword from above knocked Brandford’s weapon from his hands, disarming him. At the top of the balcony stood Travis, one foot on the railing.

He leapt.

“My gosh!!” Elrik shouted as Travis flew through the air. He landed right in front of them and grabbed his sword, turning around just as Brandford charged him. As quick as a flash, he brought the blade of his sword across the dissident soldier’s body, disarming him again and causing him to yell in pain. Brandford staggered backward. His reliable-looking armor split in two and fell from his body, revealing a huge cut across his chest and right arm that was streaming blood down onto his covered torso. Travis sheathed his sword and then unsheathing it, this time striking Brandford with the blunt end – still quick and powerful enough to knock the full-grown soldier out cold while he was still on his feet.

As Brandford hit the ground in a heap, Travis turned around toward the remaining five soldiers. He looked his way and that from Hadley to Ivanna to Katrina to Elrik to the others…Rashid and Roald had appeared atop the steps, along with Arsham, who looked a bit unhappy.

“Get him a bandage and get him out of my sight,” he said to no one in particular. As two soldiers began to tend to Brandford and walk him up the stairs (not really bothering to make sure his knees didn’t drag), Travis turned around aggressively and said, “If anyone here doesn’t believe we can win, here’s the door. We’ve got no use for you.”

There was a long silence that seemed to drag on for about an hour.

“That settles that, then,” Travis replied.

“Next time someone needs smacking around,” Arsham said loudly, “leave them to me or take it the hell outside.”

“Will do, Ms. Arsham,” Travis said, shouldering his katana with a slight smile on his face. Swinging around, he asked, “So, Your Majesty – have you made a decision yet?”

“There are a lot of things I’d like to do, but it’s imp—” Elrik started, but Travis cut him off.

“Impossible?” he finished. “Your Majesty – Prince Elrik – there’s one thing I believe strongly…one thing I know for a fact is true. When you want something bad enough, it does all kinds of strange things to the boundaries of ‘impossible’.”

Elrik stayed silent while Travis approached him.

“I was never supposed to walk again,” he told the Prince, a fire in his eyes like never before. “My life as I knew it was supposed to be over. And I almost accepted it – almost. But I had too many people who believed in me. I wanted my life back even though a lot of people told me I couldn’t have it. I didn’t listen to them. You know why?”

Travis backed off a step, turned his head, and clenched his fist. Suddenly, he erupted into a soft but bright spiral of white flames, surrounding him, but not obscuring his body entirely. He looked at Elrik and the others, all of whom were trembling in fear. He looked straight at Katrina.

“As much as everyone believed there was no hope, we believed that there was,” he said. Allowing the flames to rest and fall to the ground, he said, “Face it – we’ve got nowhere else to run…so the only way we’ve got any shot is to fight our way out.”

He sheathed his sword and dropped respectfully to one knee. Everyone around him all bowed as well.

“All of us are behind you,” Travis said. “But you have to lead us somewhere.”

“Who – what – are you?” Ivanna asked, standing in front of Elrik now and looking slightly alarmed.

“I’m a Trainer, an Emerald Knight, a Swordbearer, but I’m also a human being that wants freedom for this country because it means freedom for me and the people that I love,” Travis said.

He looked up at Elrik.

“This is my fight now,” he said, finally falling silent and leaving the Prince to ponder the sight of dozens bowing to him willingly, ready to offer their services wherever he might lead them.

[Air Dragon]

Guess being first to review is getting a little old, hunh?

Sorry.. i stand corrected...

I'm processing info now (i.e. copying and pasting, then R&ring)

Sorry his took so long. Shadow Lyucario's had me pressed for two reviews, exams have me pressed for time and some ******************** (insert insult of choice) has denied me use of my laptop all week. I had a proper review in line but it's on my laptop. -_- So i'll say what i can and go.

Travis stepping up to plate on his and Katrina's anniversary? I sense a disturbing trend here... ouch for the dissident soldier too by the way!

One question... OK, two. One, who's watchig Kenjiro and will he and Reivyn ever get a pokemon of their own?

Questions of a curious mind...

L@er!

[Lucarioman777]

Actually, I was here first, but my incredibly awesome review was destroyed by the accursed forums' server. Anyway...

Lot's of Character Developement and Plot progression here. I liked it.

First, Travis. I feel as though he has developed a sense of duty to help other people who fight to protect their families/loved ones. Definetly better than the Travis in the beginning, that's for sure! Good job with that one.

Next up, Katrina. She has stayed basically the same throughout PR:AP but has definetly progressed Travis' development. Their relationship is (if possible) even more progressed than before.

Now, Elrik and Ivanna. Ivanna is slightly different at least, but Elrik hasn't really changed at all. That's alright, seeing as they aren't really main characters, but side ones (I forget the name of those characters.)

Ms. Arsham I'm really starting to like. Maybe it's the warm gruffness (sounds like an oximoron, doesn't it?) but she just seems... likeable.

Reivyn, Rashid, and Roald weren't really mentioned at all, so they didn't change.

YES! They're finally making a move! I wonder how that's going to turn out? And I wonder if Shiro/Madeline will eventually join up again? That is for you to decide.

All in all, good work.

With best wishes,
--Lucarioman777

[Diddy]

oh noes!!!11

the return of emo travis. run for your lives.

Nah I'm only making fun, its always fun to rip emos (in half) oh I am full of it today. sugar that is.

The convo between Shiro/Madeline & Travis/Katrina. I think was left a bit, short. like there was something else to be said. the former definately have something brewing, and it aint the kettle. perhaps they'll try and find out whats going on, then be quite shocked at their discovery.

Well enough of my extremely weak jokes. see y'all soon.

Before I go, I have something planned for the fan fiction section that may be up soon, just have to plan out a few more things and get it sorted. It's loosely based on pokemon, as there isn't much in it. It will only be short, a few chapters or so with the chance of added one-shots. You heard it here first folks.

Shameless advertising over.

[Blue_Umbreon]

I've been reading Pokemon Johto Revolution and Advent Pheonix for a while now. Now that I'm finally caught up, I'll start posting reviews.

First off grammar :

“Yeah – you should do that,” Travis said. “Make sure to say high to everyone for me.”

I'm guessing you meant to say hi.

Next up, I'd like to say that I really liked this chapter. Travis is finally starting to view Hoenn's problems as his too. I also liked seeing Madeline and Shiro again, I really miss seeing a lot of them. This is starting to sound a lot like PJR in terms of plot. Get half of the badges, get veered off into what was previously intended to be a subplot and forget the championship. Don't mistake me, I love your writing and the non-Pokemon battles, I was just hoping that Travis would make it all the way to Champion this time. I really love the Pokemon battles. ^^ Oh well, I guess some of that is just me being crazy since it has not been confirmed that Travis abandons his Pokemon journey.

Also, the mention of Carona sounds very interesting. It sounds like that will be the continent that Lucas travels to. (Funny story actually, but at first, I thought that Lucas was Lorca's real name; I forgot about Marco's whole name-changing ordeal) And I know that you said this is a trilogy, but I'm dreading the end. I know this may seem selfish, but I hope you continue past three fics. I love all of the characters (namely Nate, Shiro, Travis, Katrina, and Madeline) and I'm hoping that you will have the inspiration to continue beyond three fics. (Maybe include a fic about Shiro and Madeline's travels, get the original four from PJR back together for travels in Sinnoh, Kanto, or maybe in the Battle Frontier.) Okay, I'll stop ranting.


~Blue_Umbreon~

[EonMaster One]

Glad to see you caught up, Blue_Umbreon. Actually, you addressed a concern I knew I myself would have coming into writing this fic. Don't worry - I've got it figured out this time.

Also, I'm glad to announce that I have settled on a name and a basic premise for the Revolution Trilogy's third saga. The title is now officially and permanently Pokemon Revolution: Maverick Heart. This'll probably warp a couple of brains, but think something along the lines of Pokemon meets Outlaw Star (a freakin' awesome anime, if you didn't know) meets Final Fantasy XII. Kinda hard to explain without giving away too much info, so just trust me on this one.

Now, for the more immediate future, I've finished Chapter 24, so I'm serving it up now! (I'm trying to finish as much as I can before next week, as I'll be staying with my relatives on the northern half of Maryland for much of the holidays, and I"m sure most of you will be busy spending time with your own families. On top of that, I need a repair or two done on my computer (again!) and I won't have it with me for a while.)

Chapter 24: Elrik, Lord of Verdanturf

June 22, PA 2013 – Verdanturf City, Arsham’s Estate

Draped in his new, green cloak, which was fastened at his left shoulder by a silver button, Prince Elrik of Hoenn stood on the back balcony of Arsham’s mansion, overseeing the activities of the encampment on the vast expanse of land at the back of the estate. Mid-morning had risen on the new headquarters of the Emerald Knights. The day before, a decision had been made. A decision…

Elrik had never been as sure of himself as his brother was. He was the shy and introverted twin. His brother was aggressive, a take-charge kind of person. It had been that way since they were children – and (Elrik smiled to himself bitterly) it was probably that difference in personality that initially gave Edgar the throne after their father’s death. Elrik had been content to let things happen, to go wherever the winds of change happened to blow him…but no more. He’d had enough. There was a new fire in him, a driving force that propelled him to go and act. Someone had given him the jumpstart that he needed…

…and that someone was several stories down, sword in hand.

He stood in front of three soldiers, all black-haired brothers. One young man’s hair was short and his bangs were symmetrical; the middle brother’s hair was medium-length, and the hair of the youngest – a youth of barely seventeen – was shoulder-length and wild. It reminded him a bit of an old friend.

“Where are the three of you from?” Travis had been going around, requesting to know each soldier’s individual story. The other two brothers predictably looked at the oldest, who was obviously the trio’s unofficial mouthpiece by virtue of his age.

“Lavaridge Town,” the oldest brother – a man of perhaps twenty-five, responded to the boy eleven years his junior.

Travis’ actions the previous day seemed to have earned him a newfound respect among the ranks of the Emerald Knights. Although very few had actually looked down on him from the jump, the soldiers seemed now to look up to Travis, despite his age. Perhaps they recognized his power; perhaps it was because they saw him, like the soldiers of Blackthorn City did two years ago, as their greatest hope against the coming threat. Whatever it was, morale throughout the camp had shot up to an all-time high.

“Lavaridge…” Travis muttered to himself. He turned his head and yelled, “Katrina!!”

A pink-haired girl was over near the stables, giving water to a couple of thirsty Rapidash, who both lapped up their drinks with appreciative whinnies. She stood straight and turned around, a smile on her face. Travis watched as she broke into a run toward him and the soldiers. Stopping a few feet in front of them, she queried, “You rang?”

“Uh…you wouldn’t happen to know where Lavaridge is, would you?” Travis asked. “I still haven’t really gotten a good grasp of where everything is in Hoenn.”

“Lavaridge? It’s north…ish,” Katrina said. “You know where Mt. Chimney is, right? It’s not that far from here.”

“Mt. Chimney – you mean, the volcano?” Travis asked. All three brothers nodded in stereo. “So it’s near there…wait a second – isn’t the next Gym in Lavaridge?”

Katrina cupped her chin with her hand for a moment, and then, with certainty, exclaimed, “Yeah! You’re right.”

“I thought so…” Travis sighed. “But back to business. You guys were all at the base in Rustboro, right? Romero’s mansion?”

“Right,” the oldest brother said again.

“Had you ever been inside the city?” Travis asked.

“Sure, we have,” the oldest of the three soldiers replied once again. “On recon and things like that.”

“What do you know about it?” Travis asked them. “Like, what kind of information did you find out on recon?”

“You probably know that the original leader of the garrison in Rustboro, Captain Fergus, was killed about a month ago,” the eldest brother recounted.

“Yeah, I know that – I was there,” muttered Travis, thinking back to the incident.

“They’ve promoted someone new to the job – a man by the name of Soebridel Ludwig,” the man said. “He’s a stronger fighter than Captain Fergus, from what I hear.”

“What? How do you spell that?” Travis asked.

“S-O-E-B-R-I-D-E-L,” the soldier answered.

“But it’s pronounced… ‘SAY-bruh-DELL’, am I getting that straight?” Travis asked.

“That’s about it,” the soldier responded.

Travis looked over his shoulder to Katrina, an awestruck expression on his face.

“Why are bad guys’ names always either complicated or hard to pronounce?” he muttered.

“ ‘Edgar’ sounds pretty easy,” she commented briskly.

“That’s what’s called an ‘exception’,” Travis muttered. Looking down the way a bit, he saw a young woman in full armor striding over toward them. He looked at the soldiers and murmured, “Yikes – it’s Ivanna. You guys had better get back to training. Keep up the good work!”

“Thanks,” the young man said as Travis and Katrina walked off. As happy as Ivanna had been the last couple of days, she could still be rather foul whenever she caught some of her soldiers slacking off or standing around, so Travis thought it best to stay out of her way, especially seeing as Ivanna had been a bit cool toward him the last several days. Katrina turned to Travis.

“Are you really sure about this?” she asked him. “Using your power to end a war is one thing…but using it to start one…”

“Start a war?” Travis repeated. “I didn’t recruit those guys. I didn’t tell any of these people to fight for the Prince. They were here before I was. But Elrik needs some help. In case you haven’t noticed, he’s not the most confident person around.”

“These are human lives, though. These guys have regular weapons. They can’t fight or heal themselves as well as you can,” Katrina said.

“You really don’t know me anymore, do you?” Travis asked calmly. Katrina fell silent. “I don’t play games – I win them. I know damn well that Edgar’s army outnumbers them – outnumbers us – about a hundred to one. But Edgar’s not the most popular guy. Most soldiers follow him either because they don’t know exactly what happened in Sootopolis when Elrik’s father died, or because they’re scared of getting their heads chopped off if they say anything about Edgar. Trust me when I say that I want to minimize the damage.”

Katrina remained silent.

“We’re not going to sic the Emerald Knights on anyone right now,” Travis said, shaking his head. Katrina caught up with him and grabbed his hand.

“Can you tell me?” she asked.

“Tell you what?” Travis replied with a question of his own.

“You and Elrik talked last night,” Katrina replied. “Didn’t you?”

“Oh, that,” Travis said. “Elrik was a little bit unsure of my motives. I guess a lot of people are, seeing as I come off so self-centered lately, right?”

Last night…

Firelight danced on the walls of the room, revealing that an important object had been moved.

The map had found its way from the wall down onto an amalgam of three tables. Elrik reached his hand over to the northwestern section of Hoenn, where ‘Verdanturf Town’ had been written in neat, printed, capital letters. Elrik, using a pencil, filled in a circle at right about where the town would be located on the map. He then slashed through it, creating a star of sorts – a symbol that signified importance. He smiled to himself. How apropos that this new ‘plan’ would start at the smallest and most insignificant of all towns in Hoenn – a town so insignificant that not even the Imperials considered it worth their time…

…and that made all the difference.

“You wanted to see me, Your Majesty?” a boy’s voice drifted in from the hallway. A boy in his early to mid-teens, just over five-and-a-half feet tall, wearing a white-and-blue outfit and noticeably unarmed, appeared in the doorway, barely visible because of the dim lighting. It was well after nine at night at this meeting was secret, private – not known even to the Emerald Knights’ leaders.

Elrik looked up.

“I want to know the truth,” he said to the boy. “How old are you?”

“Fourteen, sir,” the boy replied. “Fifteen in about…five weeks, give or take a couple of days.”

“Not yet fifteen?” the Prince muttered. “You really are serious, aren’t you?”

“What reason would I have to lie about my age?” the boy asked, stepping further in and revealing himself, with his blue hair – wild in the front, neat and braided in the back – and determined, azure eyes, to be…

The One…

…The Swordbearer.

Travis DePaul III of Johto.

“Master Hong thinks very highly of you,” Elrik replied. “He says that you have uncanny wisdom and maturity about you – very high compliments from someone who has lived roughly ten times as long as you have, don’t you think?”

“That was nice of him,” Travis answered calmly. “Is there something wrong? Something you need done…or not done, for that matter?”

“You’re very formal tonight – too formal,” Elrik said. “I’d like to think that we’re friends – or at least something along those lines. So, allow me to ask a blunt question – why are you going through so much trouble to help us? Hoenn isn’t your homeland.”

“Honestly?” Travis asked. “I believe wholeheartedly that I can be Hoenn’s next Pokémon League Champion – and I’d like to enjoy that title over a peaceful Hoenn…but that’s secondary. You’ve built yourself a good army here, but, frankly, you looked a bit lost as to what to do with them.”

“How would you know that?” Elrik asked.

“I was in the same position a couple of years ago,” Travis answered. “In the war against Angelos, I had the aid of Blackthorn City – the best warriors in all of Johto. But I didn’t know what to do with them at first, and that cost me badly. But it also taught me a lot – and I think the reason why I went through that is because of this.”

“What did you learn?” Elrik asked.

“I learned that, if an opponent looks bigger or better than you, you can’t take him down just by defending yourself all the time,” Travis said. “You have to hit them where they’re least expecting it. That’s one. Two…you’re not as alone as you think.”

Elrik looked up.

“You’re a good person,” Travis said.

Elrik shook his head. “I wish I was as confident as you are.”

“And I wish I was as selfless as you are,” Travis said. “You don’t want the throne just because you want to be king – if that’d been it, you’d have taken it a long time ago. You want to rule Hoenn because you want to bring it peace and stability. You’re prepared to put yourself on the line for an entire nation of people. It’ll be hard for Hoenn to find a better ruler than that. If you show yourself, you’ll get support because of your reputation. But if you don’t…”

“What happens?” Elrik asked.

“Well,” Travis sighed, “you’d have no chance attacking Edgar then. Do you know why? If Hoenn doesn’t know it’s you leading the attack, they’ll assume that another nation – like Johto, for instance – is trying to invade them…and not only will that get us all wiped out, but it’ll play right into Edgar’s hands. He wants to try to take over other nations and start a world war, remember?”

Elrik remained silent, taking all of this in.

“If people know the truth about you, though, they’ll come to your side,” Travis said. “That’ll even the odds a little.”

Elrik finally spoke after a few more seconds of quiet.

“…I see,” he said. “But how long are you playing on staying?”

“Long enough to give the ‘Empire’ one good knock, and then I’m leaving for Lavaridge,” Travis said. “I’d like to start journeying again before too long. On top of that, it just dawned on me that I’ve still got a hellishly-strong maniac from a foreign country chasing me for my sword. I’m sure I’ll have to fight him again, and I’d rather do it without putting anyone at risk that doesn’t have to be at risk.”

“It makes sense,” Elrik sighed. “I wish I was as wise as you are when I was fourteen…I would not have lost the throne in the first place, probably…”

“It’s really nothing special – just survival skills,” Travis told the Prince. “If I didn’t pick up some things along the way, I wouldn’t have survived this long.”

“Basically,” Travis explained, “I told him that he can’t get any support unless someone knows for sure that he’s the Prince.”

“Makes sense,” Katrina said. “But will it really matter in a place like Verdanturf?”

“Are you kidding me?” Travis asked. “Verdanturf’s a perfect place to start. They love their peace more than any other place here in Hoenn, and the town’s so small, the Imperials don’t even bother with it. Edgar figures that there’s no way that a rebellion could come out of Verdanturf, so he leaves it alone. That’s gonna really suck for him later, but it doesn’t bother me at all…”

Katrina laughed a bit at Travis’ cutting turn of phrase, but then her expression became serious. She grabbed Travis’ hand and looked at him firmly.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said. Moments later, a teenage girl blurred into sight right in front of Travis, standing up straight a second or two later. Travis and Katrina each jumped back a step in surprise.

“Reivyn!” Travis exclaimed. “What’s the word?”

“The Prince wants to know when we’ll be moving,” Reivyn replied.

Travis turned around and surveyed the camp. There was an obvious air of excitement, and soldiers were beginning to line up around their respective captains.

“Tell him that we’re ready when he’s ready,” Travis answered.

“Okay,” Reivyn answered simply, making three hand signals and jumping into the air, disappearing entirely. Travis and Katrina looked at the spot where she had been, the former shaking his head.

“I want to learn how to do that,” Travis joked.

Meanwhile, in Mauville City…

Combusken parried an incoming attack from Volterror, who had come in, fangs bared and ready to strike. Combusken skidded backward, using one of his long claws for balance on the ground and creating long runs in the remaining panels (one of which exploded) as he came to a complete stop.

Unfortunately for him, Volterror didn’t.

With an almighty CRASH, the Storm Pokémon came plowing into the prized Fire-type, knocking him backwards into the electric barrier designed to contain the match – and inflict serious pain on anyone unfortunate enough to come into contact with it.

“Damn it!” the Combusken’s trainer, a fourteen-year-old boy with a skullcap covering blond highlights in his brown hair, swore. Combusken rose to his feet, staring down Volterror as the tiger-like beast growled madly, his black coat sparking with small bolts of lightning.

Volterror charged, his fangs exposed again and this time shining with an electric-blue light. Combusken turned his hips quickly and brought a powerful leg right into the face of the feline Pokémon, jumping away as Volterror crashed mightily into the ground. He landed before his trainer, who prepared to issue the finishing order:

“Combusken, use Meteor Ball!!”

Combusken reared back with his right arm, conjuring fire in his hand. He launched it at Volterror, who didn’t seem entirely prepared for the attack and took the ball of flames right in the face as it exploded. The black Electric-type reeled with a roar.

“Take him down!!” the boy shouted. “Double Kick!!”

Combusken lowered his head and rushed Volterror, who didn’t see the Young Fowl Pokémon coming and took a foot right on the muzzle. The second kick was a roundhouse that made contact with Volterror’s head and sent him sprawling to the ground. Volterror growled weakly and then stopped moving. The referee ran over to do the count.

“One…two…three…four…five! Volterror is unable to battle! Combusken is the winner!” the referee announced, pointing the red flag at Combusken’s Trainer.



Snapping his badge case shut, the brown-haired boy slipped the metal container into his pocket. Throwing his shoulder through the nearby bag, he looked up and saw a rather tall, black-haired girl walk into the room.

“Nice job,” she said, approaching him.

“That Volterror was a beast to bring down,” he commented. “But, as always, we got the job done.”

“As always,” the girl echoed, leaning in and giving him a kiss of congratulations. “So, Matt…where’s the next Gym?”

“The next Gym?” Matthew tried to remember. “That’s gonna be interesting. There’s a Gym in Lavaridge, but there’s also a couple of contest sites other places – like Verdanturf and Fallarbor. You did say you wanted to do another one, right, Mariah?”

“I should, seeing as I’m pretty decent at it,” Mariah answered.

“Decent? You won your first contest – I’d have to say you’re decent,” Matthew replied. “So, where do you want to go? Fallarbor or Verdanturf? Although, I’d have to warn you, Fallarbor’s across the desert, which is kinda gonna suck…”

“But we can come back through Lavaridge and pass through Mauville to go to Verdanturf, right?” Mariah asked.

“Huh – what?” Matthew asked. “You mean…over Mt. Chimney? Not sure I like the idea of crossing a volcano…”

“Well, we don’t have much of a choice – Lavaridge is called ‘Lavaridge’ for a reason,” Mariah said. “Unless you want to go to Verdanturf first, then come back to Mauville, go up to Fallarbor, circle back around to Lavaridge, and then back to Mauville again…”

“Damn…” Matt groaned. “Are you serious? Sounds like we’ll be passing through here at least twice, no matter what we do.”

“We don’t have to leave today,” Mariah said. “You’ve won four badges, and the Hoenn League doesn’t start until September. Let’s go back to the Center and think it over first.”

“Yeah…sounds like a good idea,” Matt said. “Let’s go.”

Matt and Mariah left the locker room, traversed the long hallway that led to the lobby, and exited that door as well. As they reached the lobby (to the occasional shout of encouragement from those who had seen Matt’s recent victory), Matt turned to Mariah.

“You know…I’m really glad you came here with me,” he said.

“Come on, now, Matt, you know I’m not one for the mushy stuff,” Mariah commented. “Most of the time.”

“No, I mean that,” Matt affirmed. “I wonder sometimes…why me? Why anyone, Mariah? Can you at least answer that for me?”

“I guess…” Mariah muttered. “I guess we were both at the same point in our lives. You know…ready to move on from tragedy and all that. You looked strong – like someone I could depend on.”

“Ha – there’s no pressure, right?” Matt laughed to himself. “You’re probably the first person that’s ever said that they depend on me for anything.”

“Well,” Mariah said. “You’re doing a pretty good job.”

Matt stopped talking and turned toward her. “Do you mean that?” he asked.

Mariah responded with a nod. Matt gently brought the black-haired girl into his arms, where she rested her chin atop his shoulder.

“Thanks, Bee. That means a lot,” he said. Mariah smiled at the use of her pet name, inching up and pecking Matt on the cheek. Matt looked over Mariah’s shoulder, and his expression instantly changed. He broke apart from Mariah and gently guided her behind him as he stepped forward. Two soldiers in black armor were approaching them – each just over six feet tall (Matt, at five-foot-seven, didn’t have to look up all that far).

“Are you Matthew Marius?” one of the soldiers asked in a smooth, baritone voice.

“That’s my name – don’t wear it out,” Matt quipped (although his mouth was set in a firm line). “Can I help you with something?”

“In fact, you can,” the soldier said, going into his pocket. Out of it he pulled a picture of a boy – a boy that looked very familiar to Matt.

“Why are you looking for him?” Matt said, handing the picture back to the soldier.

“To ask him a few questions,” the soldier answered ambiguously. Matt saw right through him.

“Questions? At the point of a sword?” Matt asked. “Because that wouldn’t really work. Just take my word for it.”

“You were with him in Dewford and Slateport – you know where he is,” the soldier suddenly became slightly more aggressive.

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,” Matt said defiantly. His mouth turning upward into an unmistakable smirk, he added, “Wouldn’t want you dying an untimely death, right?”

The soldier drew his sword and pointed it at Matt, or past him, to the hiding, black-haired girl taking refuge behind his shoulder.

“Unless you want your little girlfriend’s death on your conscience, I suggest you stop being an arrogant little brat and tell us where this boy is hiding!” the soldier shouted. Matt realized he was beaten. He wouldn’t have Mariah killed on account of him trying to match wits with these guys.

“I hope you’ve got boats,” he commented. “Last thing I heard, he was in Fortree. Good luck trying to bring him in – you’re going to need it.”

The soldier pulled his sword back a bit, pointing it at Matt’s throat.

“I knew you’d make the right decision with a little bit of persuading,” he said, finally stowing the sword in its scabbard where it belonged. “So, it’s Fortree. Let’s go.”

He beckoned to his silent partner, who followed him down the road the other way. Mariah’s face was pale and her breathing was shallow as she hung on to her boyfriend’s shirt for dear life. Suddenly, Matt broke into quiet laughter.

“Guess he was as dumb as he looked,” Matt commented.

“Most Imperial soldiers are,” a young man’s voice joined the conversation. Matt looked up. A slight smirk crossed his face.

“Long time no see…” Matt said. “Kenjiro.”

The young man was about eighteen years old and quite tall. He looked to be wearing a black shirt and black pants inside of a green traveling coat lined with several black-and-silver belt buckles along the torso. He had short, bronze-colored hair and eyes the color of a lion’s coat. Visible at his hips were the sheaths for two knives. He had his arms folded as well.

“That was pretty smart,” Kenjiro commented, “but at the same time, pretty stupid. What the hell are you gonna do if they find out you’ve sent them on a wild goose chase?”

“Not my fault,” Matt said with a smirk. “They asked me for an answer – they didn’t specify if they needed the right answer.”

Kenjiro sighed and rolled his eyes.

“We do need to find them,” he affirmed. “Where do you really think they went?”

“Knowing Travis, they’re probably headed toward Lavaridge,” Matt said. “He’s gonna want to start racking up badges as quick as possible before the **** hits the fan.”

“Something smells weird already,” Kenjiro commented distractedly, averting his golden-brown irises from Matt’s jade-green. “Either way, we need to get to Lavaridge.”

“What do you mean, ‘we’?” Matt questioned.

“I’m going with you to make sure you don’t get killed trying to do your job,” Kenjiro explained.

Matt laughed.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” he said. “After all, you got your man – I’m just an afterthought now, right?”

Kenjiro shook his head.

“I can’t argue with you,” he said. “When we recruited you for the Dragonfall Project back in May, we had no idea we’d have a Swordbearer drop right into our laps that same week. That said, we still need both of you. There’s no guarantee he’ll make it to the tournament.”

Matt raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve traveled with him for nearly a month-and-a-half, and you still don’t know him at all?” he queried. “That’s just sad. You think he’s not good enough?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth – I didn’t say that,” Kenjiro replied sharply. “But he’s got his mind on other things. He has to multitask, so to speak. Between the fact that he wants to get into Evergrande and the fact that he’s being watched by Imperials – not to mention some other people – I’m not taking the chance of him getting sidetracked…or worse…before he can get to Evergrande. That said, you’re still just as much our guy as he is.”

“Why is that? Because I can’t fight – or I won’t?” Matthew asked, his green eyes glinting. “There’s so much you don’t know about me. There’ll be hell to pay if they come after me like that again.”

Kenjiro folded his arms.

“Sure,” he said rather incredulously. “Just concentrate on doing your job – there’s no need for you to get your hands dirty, kid – not yet.”

The vast, open fields of Verdanturf provided lots of space – space to walk around, space for children to play…

Space, even, for young swordfighters to perfect their craft.

A ginger-haired girl of about sixteen sheathed her training sword as a young man of about nineteen with similar facial features and the same color hair stood at ease with his own sword.

“You ready to call it quits?” the young man asked. Even his voice radiated a naïve sort of eagerness, the tone of his speech saying all too clearly that he would have liked to keep going.

“I’m just a little hungry – that’s all,” the girl replied.

“Can’t fight on an empty stomach – let’s go get something to eat,” the young man said, turning and beginning to walk down the hill upon which they had been sparring. After a few moments, he noticed that the girl wasn’t following.

“Something wrong, Jillian?” he asked.

“I worry about you sometimes, Talan,” the girl explained. “Do you really think that…you know…I mean, the King says that he’s dead…”

“I’ve just got this hunch…” Talan explained. “This gut feeling that he’s not, you know.”

“Maybe it’s just wishful thinking,” Jillian sighed. “You know how Grandfather feels about that.”

“Don’t remind me,” Talan sighed. Then, doing his best imitation of a gruff octogenarian, he croaked, “ ‘The Ainge family wasn’t built on stargazers and dreamers. It was built on star chasers…big doers...’ or something like that.”

Jillian laughed.

“But seriously, Jill,” Talan said solemnly, putting a hand on the younger girl’s shoulder, “someday we might be able to fight to get freedom for ourselves and for everyone back in Mossdeep…and we need to be ready for that day – whenever it gets here.”

“Who will we fight with?” Jillian asked. “I’m not being negative – it’s an honest question.”

“The Almighty Ones will not ignore Edgar’s tyranny. You can count on that,” Talan said.

[EonMaster One]

~~~ *** ~~~

Five Rapidash strode over one of the many hills that led to the center of Verdanturf Town. Prince Elrik Thalrair of Hoenn rode the one at the center, whose flames shone with a royal blue color instead of the normal shades of red. This regal-looking mount burned brightly at the center of the line, flanked by Lady Ivanna and Sir Rashid. On the very outside of one end of the line rode Sir Roald, the cavalry commander. On the other side, a pair rode on one horse, both of them essentially children who both stood out and blended in. The girl, her rose-pink hair flapping in the wind, looked over the shoulder of the boy, who was controlling the mount with almost no effort, despite having only ridden this Rapidash once before. Apparently, for Eilyn, once was enough.

“<It’s all very exciting, isn’t it?>” the Rapidash asked the boy. “<The idea of forming an army to rout the forces of tyranny…I’m glad I get to be a part of something this significant.>”

“Significant?” Travis repeated, taking care to keep his eyes forward. “I’m just trying to help out.”

“<I beg to differ,>” Eilyn responded. “<I feel…honored, and you should, too. You see – what do all of the people riding in front with the Prince have in common?>”

“They’re all important leaders in the Emerald Knights?” Travis questioned.

“<That, yes, but…>” Eilyn answered. “<They are all close to His Majesty. The fact that you have the privilege of riding in front with the Prince says two things: he trusts you enough to allow you to lead his men…and he considers you a friend.>”

Travis found himself about to respond but stopped short when it hit him.

A friend?

Did Elrik, Prince of Hoenn, consider him a friend?

They began to descend the hill. Travis held on tightly to Eilyn as she began to pick up speed. Travis could see the town square. Several people were gathered there, and each in turn began to look up toward them, some pointing and gesturing with their mouths agape.

Elrik’s jade cloak rustled in the wind and trailed behind him as his mount continued to descend the slope at an ever-quickening canter. He and Ivanna stole a glance at each other…

They would tell the others later…but this wasn’t the time.

Suddenly, Ivanna (riding atop Euan, who seemed very happy about the arrangement) accelerated and rode out slightly in front of the Prince, followed by Rashid, who was riding Ivory as usual.

Travis looked over his shoulder and saw a large piece of cloth flapping in the wind, attached to a long pole carried by the young magician, Creon. On a silver field, it featured a green, serpentine dragon that coiled around itself – obviously symbolic of the Kingdom of Hoenn’s patron Legendary, Rayquaza. From its mouth came a white and red flame. Travis looked forward and then did a double take.

The flame was in the shape of a bird…the phoenix.


Agnes was walking serenely beside her husband, and to her left was the aged but wise Master Hong. Even Arsham had shown her face, her stocky, built form and strong gait taking precedence at the front because nobody had the guts to tell her to move anywhere else.

Behind Travis’ hard face and determined, fiery, sapphire eyes was the process of a metamorphosis – a change of heart. For years now, everyone had called on him to be a hero. For years, he had shied away from the title. Being a hero brought high responsibility. It wasn’t that he wanted to shy away from responsibility, either – he didn’t want to let anybody down. He didn’t want to be the one known for failing. Up until he got the sword, he had never been the bravest person. He had been the type to try to stop the fight, or to let it resolve itself, if possible. He was ignorant on what being a hero meant.

Being a hero was more than a strong sense of justice or a swift sword – Travis’ own hero was his grandfather, a man who had taken up arms only to defend his own life in his final moments. Being a hero involved more than high and lofty words. Of course, a hero could have all these things…

But being a hero was having the ability to care for others and to do what it took to defend them. In that case, everyone with a soul had the potential to be a hero.

But what separated great heroes from the others…

What separated him from them…

He was not just an especially strong warrior fighting for them. He had become their symbol of hope – literally the banner they could fight under. He was the hero that brought out the hero in everyone else around him. The weak were suddenly strong.

The timid were suddenly brave.

The silent were suddenly shouting at the top of their lungs, calling for victory – victory and freedom.
As he saw himself recognized on that flag (for the phoenix, Ho-oh, was his own sign), that reality began to sink in.

That was his purpose here. He was to be the flame that burned brightly enough to ignite all of the candles around him. As he glanced over at Elrik, he began to figure out why they had been so naturally drawn to each other.

Elrik saw him as the hero whom he desired to be.

He saw Elrik as a hero in the making.

In that sense, each had found a kindred spirit in the other.

He saw it – Elrik was meant to wield the sword breathed into life by Rayquaza.

The Prince might not have held the sword, but he was a Swordbearer nonetheless.

As the riders planted themselves in the center of the square, an uproar began to rise up. Travis heard nearly every response that he would have deemed appropriate for that particular moment. People that had gotten a good look at Elrik’s face either stood rooted to the spot in fear (probably thinking that Elrik, said by his brother to be dead, had returned as a ghost) or murmured among themselves. Others still shouted in outrage, thinking Elrik to be an impostor. Some of the less knowledgeable believed (Travis had to fight down an urge to laugh out loud) that they were coming under Imperial occupation. And there were some – like a pair of ginger-haired teenagers that stood at the back of the crowd – that just watched in silence as the events before them continued to unfold.

There were a few moments of standoff. The riders stared at the crowd, who stared at the riders, who stared at the crowd, who stared at the riders…

Then, all in one motion and with unwonted agility, the Prince leapt from his mouth. Feet landing gracefully on the ground, he turned and took a step toward the crowd, some of whom took an equally large step back.

“It…it’s…” one townsperson stammered. “Y-you’re supposed to be dead!!”

“It’s a ghost!” another followed. “An evil spirit sent to torment us!”

Elrik proffered his hand and quickly had it slapped away.

“Away from me, evil spirit!!” the townsman shrieked. Then, looking down at his own stinging palm, he realized that he had, in fact, hit flesh and bone.

“You just hit him!” a middle-aged townswoman informed the man.

“I did…” the villager gasped in awe. “So, you’re not a ghost, then. Who are you?”

“My name is Elrik Alvelius Thalrair, son of Elvanan Midain Thalrair – Prince of Hoenn,” Elrik announced, bringing everything to silence. Travis looked around to see how this declaration was registering with the people of Verdanturf.

“You mean, the traitor?” someone finally asked.

“Well, he’s either a traitor or an impostor,” the man who had hit Elrik’s hand reasoned. “He’s not a ghost because I could hit his hand – but what man of royal standing would allow a commoner to touch his hand?”

“King Elvanan,” a voice sounded from the back. Everyone turned around to see that a girl of about fifteen or sixteen had spoken. She had orange hair that was tied back into two braided loops at her neck. She wore a black blouse that was tucked into cream-colored pants and lightweight moccasins as well. A young man younger than twenty that was wearing a black shirt with blue sleeves as well as white pants (and seemed to have two swords strapped to his right hip) was standing next to her. With the similarities in hair color (his was short and ginger) and facial appearance, they could have been brother and sister. “Five years ago, when I was only eleven, at the Princes’ coming-of-age ceremony…”

“Hold on!!” Elrik piped up. “You look familiar. What’s your name?”

“Jillian Ainge,” the girl responded.

“Ainge – are you related to Ruvell Ainge, the blacksmith?” Elrik asked.

“He’s our – this is Talan, my cousin – grandfather,” Jillian explained, introducing the young man in mid-sentence.

“‘That’s a beautiful granddaughter you’ve got there, Ruvell.’ That’s what my father said to him,” Elrik recounted. “‘And a strong grandson!’”

“Talan…” Jillian turned around, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Talan, it’s him! That’s the real Prince! He and Edgar were standing there – they’re the only ones that would know that word for word!!”

“I was right…” Talan said, looking pleased but no less shocked as he walked through the middle of the crowd. “I started not to believe myself, but I was right…”

“You thought I was alive, then?” Elrik asked the young man.

“Your Majesty…I have to know something,” Talan said, bowing slightly. “I’ve been trying to find out your fate for over a year now, and I’ve been following whispers and rumors. It’s said that you tried to kill Edgar…”

“If I had, I wouldn’t be standing here either way, would I?” Elrik replied drily. “If I had succeeded, I would have acceded to the throne as the last remaining person with legitimate, royal blood; if I had failed, I would be in the next life, most likely.”

“So why are you here with all these soldiers?” Talan asked. “Are you going to take us over?”

The villagers muttered amongst themselves.

“No,” Elrik simply replied. “Unlike my brother, I would like to offer you a choice.”

“A choice…” Talan answered with a mutter.

“My father once said, ‘those who crave power the most deserve it the least, while those who crave it least are the ones truly fit to wield it.’ One of his many wise maxims, and one of his truest,” Elrik said, turning around and casting his eyes on Travis for a moment before turning his attention back to Talan Ainge. “I do not desire an Empire. My true aim is not even to be King. I want only as much power as it takes to bring Hoenn freedom and peace again.”

“How can we be sure you’re telling the truth?” the man who had slapped Elrik’s hand away spoke again. “How can we be sure you’re not hiding anything?”

“You’ll know when he’s hiding something,” From her mount, Ivanna inserted herself into the conversation, looking over the crowd and at Elrik and drawing visual attention to herself. With a rare public smile, she finished, “because he’s not good at it.”

Travis and Katrina both smiled to themselves as Ivanna’s and Elrik’s wandering eyes met each other for a quick moment and both illuminated in so rapid a flash that it looked almost like sparks had flown between them.

“So, long story short, you want to dethrone Edgar,” Talan said bluntly.

“That’s the gist of it,” Elrik replied just as bluntly.

“Sounds just like what I’ve been waiting for,” Talan said. “Not to say I don’t believe you, but do you have proof of your lineage?”

“If you mean the Ruling Sword, then no,” Elrik admitted. “I’m afraid Edgar has it in his possession. Fortunately, he does not know how to wield it…”

“I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but…” Talan sighed. “If Edgar finds out…we’re all screwed. After all, the only thing that can reliably stand up to a Divine Sword is another Divine Sword.”

Everyone from Arsham to Elrik to Travis himself smirked.

“Who’s to say we don’t have one?” Arsham asked.

“Show him to me,” Talan said. “If you have one, why does he not show himself?”

Elrik shot a look in Travis’ direction, and the boy nodded, dismounting Eilyn soon afterward.

“<Hey, you’re not taking off, are you?>” she whinnied. “<It’s just getting good.>”

“I suppose he’s going to fetch the Swordbearer,” Talan commented to Jillian, who was standing right beside him. Therefore, ‘shocked’ isn’t quite strong enough of a word to accurately describe Talan’s facial expression after Travis turned on his heel and unsheathed a shining katana from his hip.

“You?” Talan shouted. “The Swordbearer is you? There’s no way! You look even younger than Jill!”

“Hey!” the younger Ainge cousin shouted indignantly.

“Sorry, Jill, but…he’s, like, twelve…” Talan muttered.

“Fourteen,” Travis corrected Talan matter-of-factly.

“This is…unbelievable,” Talan looked like his world had come crashing down around him. “I thought for a second that we’d have a fighting chance when you told me that you had a Swordbearer. Maybe I should just go home. This absolutely reeks of ‘lost-cause’ material.”

“How’s that for a vote of confidence?” Travis muttered sarcastically. “Fine, then. Go on home.”

“I will…unless you can show me that you’re not as weak as you look,” Talan said, drawing one of his swords and placing himself on his guard.

“Alright, then…this’ll only take… five seconds,” Travis said confidently. “One…”

By the second tick, his hilt was in Talan’s chin and the young man’s sword was in the air. By the third tick, Talan was on his back, Talan’s sword was in Travis’ hand, and Travis’ sword was in its own sheath. Screams and shouts began to erupt once the crowd had enough time to realize what had just happened.
Katrina tried not to act shocked, but she couldn’t quite help it.

“Oh…damn, that was six, wasn’t it?” Travis groaned, looking up at Katrina, who shook her head.

“That was three,” she said, her eyes still trying to process what had just happened.

“Agh!” Talan sat up, clutching his chin as he staggered to his feet, aided by Jillian, who had run over to help him. Talan stood, hands on his knees, as he breathed heavily.

“Damn!” he groaned. “Oh, my head…what the heck was that?”

“That’s called ‘lost-cause material’,” Travis replied, so wittily that even Talan had to laugh in spite of himself. As Travis walked over and offered the sword to Talan, he asked, “I didn’t break your chin, did I?”

“Don’t think so,” Talan grunted, taking the sword and standing up straight.

“I’ll put it simply,” Elrik said as Travis clambered back onto Eilyn, where he received a peck on the cheek from Katrina for his efforts. “We’ve got a fighting chance…but we could use more help. Are you still willing to fight for us, Talan?”

“Willing?” Talan shouted, almost as if he’d been affronted. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for a year. Of course I’ll fight, if you’ll let me!”

“Think he’s eager?” Travis muttered.

“Just a little bit,” Katrina laughed in response.

“<No joke,>” Eilyn said a bit lazily.

“That’s good,” Elrik said finally. “We’d be glad to have you.”

“Great!” Talan said. He turned around to Jillian, who was standing there and waiting to be told something. “Jill…I could tell you to go back to Mossdeep, but I’ve got a feeling that there’s no way you’d listen to me.”

“You’d better believe it!” Jillian replied perkily, running up alongside Talan to join him.

“What about the rest of you?” Elrik asked. “Will you help us fight?”

“Fight?” the townsman said, stepping forward. “My lord, forgive me for my rudeness. I am Mayor Allan Phineas, and I believe I speak for the whole of Verdanturf when I say that we have hardly any swords to offer.”

“Swords?” Elrik responded, turning back toward his army. “We need more than swords. We need lodging and food and encouragement for the people who hold them. An army is hard thing to maintain, let alone grow. It’s a war machine that consists of human beings…humans who are at times tired or hungry or afraid. Even the best of us…”

Again, he stole a glance at many of the important figures sitting atop Rapidash. Ivanna, Travis, Roald, Rashid…his eyes even wandered to Master Hong, standing in front of the soldiers.

“Swords help…but what we really need are people who believe in us,” Elrik said, turning around and looking at Phineas intently.

“Well,” the mayor said, nodding at Travis, “my hat’s off to anyone who can stand up to that boy.”

With that, he turned around to address his villagers…

Dusk found Elrik in the same place that dawn had found him. The field looked similar to how it had appeared earlier that day – full of soldiers and full of life.

“Elrik, Lord of Verdanturf,” he muttered to himself, for that was what Phineas and the people of the town had titled him. Most addressed him as ‘Prince’ or ‘Your Majesty’ as per usual, but Elrik seemed to like the title ‘Lord of Verdanturf’ better. Verdanturf was a peaceful place, and, in his mind, whoever ruled from there ruled for peace…even if that peace required war for it to come to fruition.

“Doesn’t ‘King Elrik’ sound so much better?” Elrik turned around and saw a young woman with shoulder-length, curly, flaxen hair walking up to him. She joined Elrik in leaning over the railing to observe the happenings of the camp? Elrik smiled.

“Taking a break? That’s not like you,” he said.

“Things can run without me until tomorrow,” Ivanna replied calmly. Elrik chuckled.

“Who are you, and where did you hide the real Ivanna?” he asked jokingly – Ivanna’s response was a giggle.

“It’s a bit of a relief, actually. That Talan kid – he’s good. Obviously, no real battle experience, but his technique with a sword’s flawless,” Ivanna commented. “So, I heard you called a meeting?”

“Midnight,” Elrik replied.

“That’s…late,” Ivanna said. “So, why?”

“I want everyone’s opinion on what we should do next,” Elrik answered simply.

“Is…he coming, too?” Ivanna asked the Prince.

“Of course,” Prince Elrik answered as if Ivanna needed not waste her breath asking the question in the first place. “His advice is as important as anyone else’s.”

“I want to believe he’s strong – I really do,” Ivanna sighed. “I just…can’t feel really confident about placing the fate of our army – of our nation, even – into the hands of a teenage boy.”

“It’d be one thing if he was just a strong fighter,” Elrik stated with a smile. “But he’s been there. He’s looked evil itself in the eye and lived to tell it.”

“You’re really sold on him, aren’t you?” Ivanna asked.

“A month ago, we didn’t think we had any realistic chance at doing something about Edgar,” Elrik said. “Ever since he showed up…almost everything he’s been suggesting has worked. It’s like he has a different handle on everything.”

“So, you’ll be trusting any decision he makes?” Ivanna asked.

“I’m not sure about any decision…that’s why I need the rest of you,” Elrik explained to her. “If he has a plan that can convince everyone, I say we should follow it.”

Ivanna looked at Elrik for a moment.

“Maybe I’ll give him a chance….” She said finally.



Night had fallen upon Verdanturf Town, bringing cool breezes and a bright, full moon. Travis and Katrina walked hand in hand through the sleeping village, taking in the cool, fresh air. Finally, they arrived at the town square, where they had been hours before. Then, it had been alive and full of people.

Now, it was almost deserted, and they had it all to themselves.

Travis let out a sigh.

“I think I understand what you meant,” he said, turning himself around to survey what he could see of the village. “You can’t run a war machine from a place like this. There’s just something…not right about it.”

Katrina remained silent.

“There’s something about this place…it’s someplace I want to protect,” Travis said. Katrina frowned.

“You’re planning on making another move, aren’t you?” she asked. Travis walked over and grabbed Katrina’s hand. Running his fingers across it for a second, he pulled her to her feet and into his arms. She asked him, “Do we really have to fight again?”

“We’ll have to fight either way,” Travis replied. “It just feels like…I deal with it so much better when I’m fighting by choice. I want Elrik to be able to stand up for a little while without me…because I can’t stay here very long. Darris might come back…or someone else. Besides…I’ve still got a championship to win.”

“…which’ll be a lot harder if there’s a civil war going on,” Katrina added. “Did you think about that? The League might get cancelled if things start happening too fast.”

Travis shook his head.

“There’s no way Edgar is going to cancel the League,” Travis replied. “Don’t you remember what they told us from the beginning? The reason they wanted me to get into the tournament? Edgar’s planning on using the Hoenn League Championship to crown himself Emperor. The tournament’s going to be televised worldwide, and Edgar will want to send a message. I just want Elrik to have one more city.”

“One more city?” Katrina repeated.

“Like I said…I can’t see the Emerald Knights just working out of Verdanturf forever,” Travis sighed. “Once that’s done, we’ll move on. We’ll have four badges left to get.”

He turned around and a laugh escaped Katrina’s mouth.

“What’s so funny?” Travis asked without turning his head.

“It’s just kind of ironic,” Katrina answered. “The first time Kenjiro talked to you about joining the Knights, you freaked out and told him you weren’t going to be involved in…what was it? ‘A twisted, political chess match’. But now…it’s like you’re the one moving all the pieces.”

“Better the player than the pawn,” Travis muttered to himself. “That’s what I figured. Funny how life works, huh? The world’s never as big as we think it is.”

“Nope,” Katrina answered monosyllabically. Travis took a deep breath of the clean, refreshing Verdanturf air…allowed it to fill his mouth, his throat, his chest, his soul…and then let it out again.

“Let’s go,” he said. “They’ll be looking for us soon.”

“Right,” Katrina said, approaching him and taking his hand. “But I have one last question.”

“Shoot,” Travis replied.

“When I look at you, you’re more determined to win than I think I’ve ever seen in your life,” Katrina said. “You want so much – you expect so much out of yourself, and yet you think you can accomplish all of it. Why?”

Travis smiled.

“I could get into this long spiel about destiny, but we’d be here all night,” he said. “The prophecy about me…the one Paulus gave nearly a thousand years ago…it’s not fulfilled yet.”

Katrina looked confused – Travis knew what her question was going to be.

“What do you mean? You – we – beat Angelos,” she said.

“We beat the person – Angelos’ body,” Travis said. “It’s his spirit that I’m more worried about. I see it everywhere. In Edgar…in those Temple freaks that are after Reivyn…in that Darris Klein guy…even in myself. They’re all after power to achieve their own ends – not to help others. It’s because of that prophecy that I have to become Champion…I have to help Elrik win this war…and it’s because of that prophecy…”

Travis froze for a moment as Katrina looked on – then he grinned.

“Never mind,” Travis said. “Did I ever tell you how Angelos was created?”

“I know he was descended from Paulus just like you,” Katrina said.

“Paulus and Lylia were just like us. He was a Swordbearer, she was his Aurillian princess…” Travis explained, receiving a tender smile from Katrina. “…and they loved each other very much. They even got married and had a son together. But she got sick…and died. Paulus was so brokenhearted over it – they had known each other since they were little – he started putting all of his time into hunting down the sons of Virgil…but he abandoned his own son, remarried and had another child. His oldest son came to hate him, and that hatred was passed down from father to son…and finally, to Angelos himself.”

“So, this prophecy involves more than just Angelos…” Katrina said.

“Yeah. No one’s pure good,” Travis said. “Everyone has darkness and weakness. The prophecy is about fighting the darkness in my life so that it doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

“Do you think you can?” Katrina said as she and Travis started to walk again. He turned his head.

“If I didn’t,” he replied, “I would have lost the fight already.”



Elrik sat at the head of the table in the newly-converted war room, which consisted of a large, square table. The map that had been perched upon the wall previously was now down at Elrik’s fingertips, where he and others were free to make markings and to point out notable locations. In the seats closest to Elrik (as he peered down the table toward the black doorway) were Ivanna on his right, and Rashid on his left. One seat down from Ivanna was Arsham – it was her house, after all. Besides, she was an honest person (sometimes brutally so) whom Elrik felt no reason to distrust. One seat down from Rashid was his father, Roald.

Down from Ivanna were Master Hong and his protégé, Creon. (Agnes was conspicuous by her absence; she had fallen ill and her husband had suggested that she stay in bed.) Roald was also flanked by two chairs of his own. They were for the two last and two youngest members of this midnight council.

“Two minutes to midnight,” Arsham commented. “With all due respect, Your Nocturnalness, are you sure this meeting wasn’t too far past the boy’s bedtime?”

“He’ll be fine,” Elrik said. “The other option was to have this meeting at five tomorrow morning. You wouldn’t mind that at all, would you, Ms. Arsham?”

“Hmm…” Arsham sank back into her chair. “Touché.”

Elrik leaned back with a slight chuckle. “I was fourteen once, too, so I know by experience – kids his age prefer staying up late to getting up early.”

“Late? Did someone say I was late?” a boy’s voice came in from the doorway. In walked Travis and Katrina, who looked wide awake despite the late hour. “I thought the meeting was at midnight.”

“It is. You’re just in time. Sit down,” Ivanna said.

“What’s the matter?” Rashid quipped. “Did someone miss her beauty sleep this afternoon?”

Everyone except Travis and Katrina, who were busy seating themselves in the last two chairs, burst into laughter. To everyone’s surprise, though, Ivanna responded with a wisecrack of her own.

“I was more worried about you missing yours,” she said with a bit of a sarcastic bite to her voice, bringing everyone to laughter once again.

“Alright – now that we’ve got all of the Imperial rejects, can we get down to business?” Arsham asked. “I, for one, like to walk the village at dawn, and seeing as dawn’s a little before six this time of year…”

“Business it is,” Elrik replied. “I guess, before we do anything, we need to know how many fighters we have. Ivanna?”

“Actually, that’s a good question,” Ivanna said. “I’ll have to do a count tomorrow, but the rumor is slightly over a hundred.”

“A hundred?” Roald repeated, sounding astonished. “Where’d we get a hundred? We barely had thirty when we got here.”

“Yeah, and that was after half of our guys deserted us in Rustboro,” Rashid said.

“Apparently, Phineas had more swords than he thought,” Ivanna answered. “Granted, only about half of them are professional fighters, but it’s better than nothing.”

“A hundred men…” Travis muttered to himself.

“Well…” Elrik muttered. “As a result of Travis’ plan, the entire town is our headquarters – as opposed to just using this one mansion…”

“Which gives us one hell of a lot more space, incidentally,” Arsham added, looking at Travis. “Thanks.”

There was a painful silence for about seven seconds. Then, unprompted, Travis blurted it out.

“We should strike now.”

Everyone all turned their heads right at Travis, looking at him as if he was insane.

“You’re mad!” Ivanna groaned. “Where in the hell do you plan on striking the Empire with only a hundred men?!”

“Nowhere,” Travis said, managing to keep his voice calm despite the fact that Ivanna was yelling at him. “Of course I’m not taking a hundred men – someone has to stay here to defend headquarters, right?”

“Less than a hundred?” Ivanna blanched. “How many?”

“Including me? About ten good ones will do it. Any more than that, and we’ll be too obvious,” Travis replied.

“Ten,” Ivanna said in a dazed tone, apparently too shocked to be angry anymore.

“Ten?” Rashid repeated.

“Ten?” Katrina even echoed, wondering what the hell Travis was thinking.

“That’s what I said – ten,” Travis restated himself.

“So, what do you plan on doing with ten fighters, huh? Sounds like some sort of covert mission, but enlighten me,” Arsham said.

Travis stood up and walked around the table, past Hong Liu and Creon, past Arsham, past Ivanna...

“Your Majesty, may I borrow this?” Travis asked, indicating a green marker in the shape of an armed soldier.

“Sure,” Elrik agreed, still unsure as to what Travis planned on doing. Emphatically, Travis removed the soldier from the map of Hoenn and planted it back into the map, in a town on Hoenn’s northwestern corner…

“That’s…” Ivanna muttered, leaning over toward Elrik and the map. “Rustboro.”

“Unless the whole city picked up and moved somewhere else like we did…” Roald concurred.

“Rustboro City? With ten fighters?” Rashid questioned. “How big is the garrison in Rustboro? Five hundred?”

“That was before our dear friend assassinated Captain Fergus,” Ivanna said, a muscle in her jaw twitching. “Now it’s more like seven or eight hundred.”

Travis laughed.

“That’s a problem…” he muttered. “Or it would be, if I was planning on fighting seven or eight hundred soldiers. Of course I’m not doing that. That’s not even stupid. That’s just suicidal.”

“And your plan isn’t?” Ivanna shot back as Travis began to return to his seat.

“I only need as many good fighters as it takes to take care of the guards in Devon Corporation’s tower,” Travis declared.

“Devon Corporation…how much do you expect Alex Stone to cooperate with you?” Master Hong asked. Everyone looked at him for an explanation. “Devon Corporation started as a small trading business when I was a young man. Now is the most powerful company in Hoenn. They control, among other things, those radio and television contraptions. So…how much do you expect Stone to cooperate with you?”

“That depends – how bad is totalitarian government for business?” Travis asked Master Hong, whose eyes widened.

“Amazing…you truly have the mind of a god,” the old sage gasped.

“I’m not sure if it’s that…” Travis replied modestly. “I just pay good attention.”

“What’s the use of the Radio Tower?” Ivanna asked.

“Lady Ivanna,” Travis leaned over the table. “How many people do you think let the Empire push them around because they don’t think they have a better option?”

Ivanna couldn’t answer.

“Thousands,” Travis said, his eyes glinting. “More than enough to fight if they knew that there was a cause to fight for. With that radio tower, we can tell all of Hoenn – Prince Elrik is alive, and he wants to bring a rule of peace. A rule where the people are free to live their lives and make their own decisions. A rule where they don’t have to worry about the threat of war every day.”

There was silence for a long time.

“I…” Ivanna was about to say something that she seemingly did not want to say. “I…promised His Majesty that I’d give you a fair chance, so I will…but I just want you to know…I think you’re completely insane.”

“I never said that I wasn’t,” Travis replied calmly, sitting down.

“Who…do you need?” Ivanna asked.

“I’ve got a few people in mind…” Travis replied. “But I’m bad with names, so you’ll have to help me…”

And they began to lay out, one by one, the names of those that could participate in the operation…

The chill wind washed over her as she burst forth from the water. Drops of the lake cascaded from her chestnut skin, her golden-white hair. She drew one of her slender arms from the water, as the wash rose and fell with the luster of crystals. She propelled herself backward and allowed the lake to caress her bare shoulders, to comfort her as a friend…

…for the Earth could be merciful – just as those who lived in it could be utterly lacking in mercy.

She emerged onto dry land, looking this way and that. Her silvery-blue eyes settled upon a rock, upon which was a neatly folded towel. It was with this that she covered herself and looked up. Her beautiful eyes reflected the full moon above. When they returned to ground level, they found a tall figure in black cloak and hat. The only defining feature was the bright red hair, and it was that she recognized immediately. Her heart leapt.

“Darris,” she whispered, breaking into a trot and silently falling into the renegade’s arms. “You’ve returned.”

“So I have,” Darris answered calmly. Immediately the young woman drifted up toward him, taking in a barely noticeable gasp as her lips parted. He stroked her russet face, bringing her to a halt. “Not now, Kilara. You’ll get yourself sick if you don’t go put something on.”

“Alright,” the brown-skinned girl replied, sounding half resigned and half disappointed as she separated herself from him and began to walk away, leaving Darris Klein alone with his own thoughts.

He seated himself before the lake, watching its glassy, bluish-black surface. He removed his trademark fedora from his head and placed it gently on the grass next to him. He clutched his chest slightly – the wound hadn’t healed yet.

He looked out in the distance. The bridge across this lake was completely devoid of life at this time of night – a perfect place for them to camp until tomorrow morning.

Soon…something was going to happen. Darris couldn’t just feel it. He knew.

All there was left to do was to wait…wait and see how things developed.

He wouldn’t play to the favor of the soldiers…on either side.
Neutrality. Both sides could be allies – yet both sides could be enemies.

That was his brand of ‘neutrality’.

He gave a start as the water before him erupted into a spiraling pillar, its excess raining down onto his person and wetting it slightly. It stood for a few seconds before it sloshed back into the lake itself and became quiet. Darris looked over his shoulder and saw a girl with fair hair and a medium complexion looking at her hand, from which tiny balls of light were now emanating. It was as if she had been holding something – something that had just recently disappeared. She was wearing a halter top that exposed her midriff as well as essentially her entire back. It was ornately designed and colored a light violet – about the shade of a healthy Rattata’s coat. It bore a large, golden ring as an ornament at its front. She also wore pants of the same purple color, but each leg of these split on each side right above her knees, rendering them almost dresslike for the rest of the way. Purple ribbons fell from the back corners of her head, their origin a golden circlet that traversed her forehead. Normally, Darris remembered, she would wear sandals with her outfit, but she had chosen not to put them on.

“How long have you known how to do that?” Darris asked.

“Practice…” Kilara said, approaching him. “There’s been nothing to do while you’ve been gone.”

“Oh…” Darris muttered. “At least you were putting your time to good use.”

Without responding, Kilara seated herself on Darris’ knees…then slid upwards into his lap, her practically bare back leaning against him.

“I missed you,” she finally said.

“You shouldn’t depend on me too much, you know…” Darris said sternly. “Besides, I know you’re able to take care of yourself. That’s what you were raised in, after all…”

Kilara giggled.

“It’s nice to have someone to miss, though…” she said. “It makes me that much happier when you come back.”

“Almighty Ones!” a groan came from above. A tall, young man with hair of an icy shade of blue and sienna-colored eyes (assuming the right one, which was hidden by a long and lazy fringe, was indeed the same color as the exposed left iris) was leaning against a tree on its lowest bough, nearly seven feet in the air. He wore an overcoat that was black with flaming red-orange trim as well as black pants that were hardly visible under this coat, which went down to his ankles. Noticeable, however, was a silver belt buckle in the middle of his person. It seemed to depict a six-winged, humanoid being…perhaps an angel of some sort. “Get a room, already.”

Kilara’s face fell as she stood.

“Stop teasing Kilara,” Darris said sternly.

“Oh, please, Darris,” the young man rolled his eyes – at least, one of them. “You might have been able to get away with the ‘big brother’ act ten years ago, but you’re both grownups now. Tell her how you really feel. You know you want to.”

“While we’re on the subject of ‘big brother’, since when in the hell have Kilara and I been any of your business, Reiko?” Darris asked scathingly.

“It’s Harland,” the young man groaned.

“I can call you ‘pea-brained maggot’ – does that sound better?” Darris replied. “What do you want?”

“I was coming to check to see if anybody’d gotten hold of your ‘little sister’ or whatever the hell she is to you nowadays,” Harland muttered, running a hand through his cold, light blue hair. “But I guess, now that you’re here, I can get an update on how things went.”

“You’re a glass-half-full type of guy, so I’ll put it into terms you can understand,” Klein said, sounding irritated. “About two things went right out of that whole operation. One, I got out in one piece. Two, I found out just how much our target isn’t someone to be screwed with.”

“Sounds useful,” Harland said. “Did you get the sword?”

Darris had a three-second-long flashback that involved barely avoiding being incinerating in a crater-inducing blast of magic flames…

“You don’t know the half of it,” the red-haired man groaned.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” Harland commented.

“Fine,” Darris muttered. “Now, you were supposed to be off collecting information, so unless you’ve got some, I’d rather you just go away because, frankly, I really don’t like you that much.”

“I’ve got information – don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Harland muttered. “You remember Prince Elrik?”

“You mean, the weak twin?” Darris replied. “Thought he was dead.”

“Apparently, he came back, one way or the other,” Harland answered. “He’s taken over Verdanturf.”

“You’re not yanking my chain here, are you?” Darris asked incredulously.

“Saw the whole thing,” Harland replied, shaking his head emphatically.

“Interesting new development,” Darris muttered to himself. “Hang around there for a couple more days – see how things unravel.”

“Sounds fun,” Harland said.

“Don’t go into any strangers’ windows, either,” Darris said with a sick chuckle.

“Very funny, Darris,” Harland said, jumping into the air and disappearing.

“Tch…” Darris muttered.

“Ten years…” Kilara suddenly said in a whisper. “It’s been ten years since you took me from that place…you rescued me…”

“I know how it feels to be called ‘freak’…” Darris muttered. “All because of this damn birthmark on my head.”

“…And because of my eyes…and my powers,” Kilara muttered, kneeling down next to Darris and noticing something inside his shirt. With a gasp, she said, “You’re wounded.”

“I told you things went badly,” Darris said, grimacing.

“I can’t make the scar go away, but…” Kilara trailed off, slipping her hand down inside Darris’ shirt and whispering a few words. Instantly, Darris felt the burning sensation that had come from the wound in his chest ebbing away. Kilara removed her hand and threw herself around Darris’ neck.

“I love you,” she said. As she fell asleep in his arms…as he carried her back into the woods, he pondered the meaning of those words. In spite of himself, he couldn’t help but think whether or not Harland had been right. Ten years ago, when she was a small girl and he a young man that had charged himself with her happiness and protection, their relationship had been a platonic one. She had told him that she loved him back then, and perhaps it had meant something different. Perhaps it was the love of a sister toward the brother that she’d never had. Maybe it was something like a crush – an intense admiration for a young man she considered in all possible ways to be her own personal knight in shining armor.

What did it mean now? Was it either of those two? Was it something deeper – something decidedly more dangerous?

And did he still feel like an older brother protecting a younger sister?

The little girl he had rescued from an orphanage in Carona ten years ago had become a beautiful, young woman with her own will and thoughts. Did he now care for her in a different way than he once had?

After all, he wanted the swords because he wanted to prove that he was capable of attaining them. What to do once he got them…he hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. All he knew that was, with even one of those three swords…no one would dare call him or Kilara a ‘freak’ again.

He was her one bond…because they were the same.

As he laid her to rest in a hammock between two trees…as his lips brushed the top of her forehead, he spoke to her, unsure as well of the true meaning behind his words:

“I love you, too.”

[Venastois]

very nice chapter. We get a little insight on Elrick, a little on Travis and Katrina, and *le GASP* more plot holes!!!!!!


i must say i really like how you are tying all of this together. very nicely done.

Pokemon meets Outlaw Star (a freakin' awesome anime, if you didn't know) meets Final Fantasy XII.

*FEINTS*

THAT IS GOING TO BE AWESOME! I CAN'T WAIT!!!!!!!!!

[Blue_Umbreon]

Glad to see you caught up, Blue_Umbreon. Actually, you addressed a concern I knew I myself would have coming into writing this fic. Don't worry - I've got it figured out this time.

I'm glad. ^^

Okay, that was a nice surprise to wake up to on a Monday morning, I'm done reading now.

It was pretty much a good chapter, no action, but I can just see more on the horizon, oh, and one question.

“Almighty Ones!” a groan came from above. A tall, young man with hair of an icy shade of blue and sienna-colored eyes (assuming the right one, which was hidden by a long and lazy fringe, was indeed the same color as the exposed left iris) was leaning against a tree on its lowest bough, nearly seven feet in the air. He wore an overcoat that was black with flaming red-orange trim as well as black pants that were hardly visible under this coat, which went down to his ankles. Noticeable, however, was a silver belt buckle in the middle of his person. It seemed to depict a six-winged, humanoid being…perhaps an angel of some sort. “Get a room, already.”

Kilara’s face fell as she stood.

“Stop teasing Kilara,” Darris said sternly.

“Oh, please, Darris,” the young man rolled his eyes – at least, one of them. “You might have been able to get away with the ‘big brother’ act ten years ago, but you’re both grownups now. Tell her how you really feel. You know you want to.”

“While we’re on the subject of ‘big brother’, since when in the hell have Kilara and I been any of your business, Reiko?” Darris asked scathingly.

“It’s Harland,” the young man groaned.

“I can call you ‘pea-brained maggot’ – does that sound better?” Darris replied. “What do you want?”

“I was coming to check to see if anybody’d gotten hold of your ‘little sister’ or whatever the hell she is to you nowadays,” Harland muttered, running a hand through his cold, light blue hair. “But I guess, now that you’re here, I can get an update on how things went.”

“You’re a glass-half-full type of guy, so I’ll put it into terms you can understand,” Klein said, sounding irritated. “About two things went right out of that whole operation. One, I got out in one piece. Two, I found out just how much our target isn’t someone to be screwed with.”

“Sounds useful,” Harland said. “Did you get the sword?”

Who is this Klein. Unless I missed one character walking in on the scene, then I don't think Klein exists.

[Diddy]

That would be Darris Klein, the guy that beat Kenjiro and Travis almost eviscerated. The dude with the crazy red hair and apparently a wierd birthmark on his head.

Answer over. Review Begin.

*claps* Travis has got some military mind aint he, I guess all that stuff at Jonah's Plain really helped.

Klein's secret base of operations revealed and he seems to have two companions, it'll be nice to see how these will interact with the main group, help or hinder.

I did notice one mistake, where you said about Paulus' son you put 'she' instead of 'he'

I pointed out a grammar mistake, personal first I think there, and I beat Air Dragon. whoo

[Blue_Umbreon]

That would be Darris Klein, the guy that beat Kenjiro and Travis almost eviscerated. The dude with the crazy red hair and apparently a wierd birthmark on his head.

Answer over. Review Begin.

*claps* Travis has got some military mind aint he, I guess all that stuff at Jonah's Plain really helped.

Klein's secret base of operations revealed and he seems to have two companions, it'll be nice to see how these will interact with the main group, help or hinder.

I did notice one mistake, where you said about Paulus' son you put 'she' instead of 'he'

I pointed out a grammar mistake, personal first I think there, and I beat Air Dragon. whoo

Thank you. I'm just stupid with last names sometimes. XD.

[EonMaster One]

Thanks for clearing that up. That was my fault; normally I'm consistent about how I address a character (that is, if I decide to use his/her first or last name, I continue to use that name) but this time I kind of slipped up.

Okay - here's the story.

I already said in my last post that I'd be getting some repairs done on my computer. After an unlucky accident this morning caused further damage to my computer, the question is whether or not there has been internal damage to the point where it's just better for me to get a new computer. Luckily, my laptop has a three-year warranty, so all of this is covered under 'accidental damage'. I'm hoping that my luck holds out and I can simply get my old computer back, repaired; but if it doesn't (and I'm backing up my entire hard drive in case this happens) I'll have to go pick up another laptop in a week or two. I had someone look at it and he said that he's '80% sure' I won't need another computer.

Either way, we're probably talking after New Years' Day...truth be told, this doesn't hurt us that much, as my normal rate for getting chapters up is about two to three a month during school. I'll be vacationing with relatives and wouldn't have even had my computer on me during at least a week and some change to begin with. Where I'm going for Christmas, I have four younger cousins that all, in their own way, like my attention when I'm there with them, and as they are sort of a surrogate family to me (my only other brother is distant, nearing forty, and has four children of his own), I like to...well, not be such a computer nerd during the times I'm with them.

In my opinion, however, this might actually serve some good to me. I particularly like how Chapter 25 is turning out, and the longer I have to wait to finish Advent Phoenix and move on to Maverick Heart, the more ideas start to come into my brain for both. I may not always be typing something down for this fanfic, but my brain's always writing, discarding scripts, keeping scripts, and writing some more. That's probably how I can churn out chapters so quickly. It's almost always on my brain.

(Let's all hope and pray that I can keep this laptop, too. I've got a lot of stuff on this thing that would be a pain and a half to reinstall. Plus, even if I back it up, that's a lot of stuff to organize.)

- EM1

[Venastois]

well good luck with the laptop, Eon. i hope it all works out for you.



and have fun with your cousins! they're all loads of fun, but take a lot of energy, neh? XD

[Air Dragon]

Geez, go without the net for one week end and a new chappie comes out...

Regarding the series, i have a bit of a proposal for you, but it can wait til the new year... like venastois said, have fun with your family, there the one thing God gave you no power to choose, and for a reason, so cherish all the time you've got with them!

On to the fic... i spot no errors, and it was interesting to read the segment on Klein's (nearly called him Calvin) 'family'.

“Alright, then…this’ll only take… five seconds,” Travis said confidently. “One…”

By the second tick, his hilt was in Talan’s chin and the young man’s sword was in the air. By the third tick, Talan was on his back, Talan’s sword was in Travis’ hand, and Travis’ sword was in its own sheath. Screams and shouts began to erupt once the crowd had enough time to realize what had just happened.
Katrina tried not to act shocked, but she couldn’t quite help it.

“Oh…damn, that was six, wasn’t it?” Travis groaned, looking up at Katrina, who shook her head.

“That was three,” she said, her eyes still trying to process what had just happened.

“Agh!” Talan sat up, clutching his chin as he staggered to his feet, aided by Jillian, who had run over to help him. Talan stood, hands on his knees, as he breathed heavily.

“Damn!” he groaned. “Oh, my head…what the heck was that?”

“That’s called ‘lost-cause material’,” Travis replied, so wittily that even Talan had to laugh in spite of himself. As Travis walked over and offered the sword to Talan, he asked, “I didn’t break your chin, did I?”

Best part of the chapter. Hands down.

The insanity of travis's plan makes me wonder if having shiro around is agood or bad thing. i mean, when shiro was in the group, he was the dependably crazy revolution member. now that he's gone, Travis has steeped up to the crazy home plate. Guess lunacy is transmissable via videophone messages...

Wow, i wrote a lot... better get up my chapter 22 before i get lazy again...

L@er!