The Path of Destiny Part 59

The Path of Destiny

Chapter 59 - To the Surface

“Scytheclaw! Arien!” a pained voice shouted, and Snowcrystal looked toward the stairwell to see Dusk the absol limping toward them, Todd the elekid and Inferno the flareon at his side. Though Dusk had obviously hurt his front leg, the three of them looked surprisingly unscathed otherwise. However, their eyes were wild with fear. “There’s fire in the room above!” He angled his head toward the stairs. “It looks like Shadowflare!”

“It is Shadowflare,” Arien hissed at the absol. “Where’s Fernwing? We need to get out of here.”

“She’s up there,” Dusk replied with another flick of his head. “Those pokémon who were attacking us just left. I’m not sure why but I think their trainer must have called them back somehow.”

“Is anyone else hurt?” Arien asked, eyeing Dusk’s paw.

“No, Fernwing got them to chase her. She gave them the slip until they suddenly left.”

“Good,” Arien responded. At least for all their ferocity, Mausk’s pokémon didn’t seem to be used to thinking and making decisions on their own, if they had made the error of going after the tropius together.

With a shuddering crash, Fernwing appeared, pounding down the stairway until she came to a stop in front of the others. As soon as she did, she noticed that Dusk had suddenly gone rigid with fright, his eyes locked on his unmoving trainer. “What the-what…what happened?” she cried, stumbling backward. “Is he…he’s not…”

“Quiet!” Arien cried, not wanting the grass type to start a panic. “Scytheclaw’s helping him. Stay calm.”

“It’s done…” Scytheclaw gasped, his voice sounding smaller and weaker than any of them had ever heard it before. They all turned to the scizor, who was slumped over, looking barely conscious.

Peering at Damian’s wound, Snowcrystal could see that it was now hardly there at all. As much trouble as he’d had, Scytheclaw seemed to have repaired the damage, or at least the worst of it. Looking at the scizor, however, Scytheclaw only had a moment to look relieved before his eyes rolled back and he collapsed in a heap on the floor. Snowcrystal had no idea what sort of side effects using the healing power would have on him, or if it only involved pain, but she knew they had to get back to the surface before they could assess him.

Suddenly Damian’s eyes flickered open, his breathing becoming rapid and strained as he stared at everything around him, seeming completely lost. “Where am I?” he gasped, his words sounding confused and slurred. He didn’t even seem to realize that he was lying in a puddle of blood.

Arien stepped over to him, helping him sit upright. Damian didn’t cry out in pain, and the alakazam breathed a sigh of relief as he realized that Scytheclaw’s attack had really worked. Damian did nothing but stare in confusion at the pokémon gathered around him, not seeming to fully register what he was seeing.

“He may not be badly hurt any longer but he’s lost a lot of blood,” Arien said. “We have to get him out of here as soon as possible.”

Snowcrystal was sure Arien was explaining things to the trainer through his psychic link, but Damian hardly seemed to react. Whether he was in shock or simply too dazed to respond properly, Snowcrystal wasn’t sure, but he didn’t seem to have too much difficulty as he shakily reached for his poké balls, probably at the instruction of Arien, and returned all but the alakazam and Fernwing.

“Scytheclaw…he did this?” he mused aloud in response to Arien’s telepathic words as the psychic tried to help him stand up. He stared ahead blankly as he mumbled, “He saved me? Oh…all right. Okay, I think I get it.” He staggered upright, but swayed so much that he had to lean against the alakazam. From the look on his face, Snowcrystal didn’t think he’d remain conscious much longer.

Arien turned to Snowcrystal. “Can you walk?” The growlithe nodded. “What about you?” he addressed Blazefang this time, and the houndoom, just waking up, shakily climbed to his feet. “Nightshade?”

The heracross tried to stand up, but it was clear that he was in very bad shape. He clutched his useless injured right arm to his side, and his eyes had a dazed, unfocused look.

“Can you walk?” Arien asked him.

“I’ll try,” Nightshade wheezed.

“Fly?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Just keep up then,” the alakazam replied sternly before turning to Damian again.

“Let Damian climb on my back,” Fernwing offered, angling her neck toward the group. “The injured pokémon too.”

“You can’t carry all of them,” Arien replied. “And the hallways up ahead are going to get too narrow. We’ll keep going on foot.”

The tropius looked as if she was about to argue, but after a moment nodded reluctantly. Damian, obviously having been told the conversation, weakly held up her poké ball and returned her.

“Come on,” Arien cried. “We don’t want the Shadowflare smoke to catch up with us.”

Even though Snowcrystal knew that the fire was forced to crawl through the building at a slower rate, with so little to burn, smoke and fire had already started pouring into the upper stories, according to Dusk. They didn’t have time to waste.

Even though Damian had at first seemed as if he was recovering enough from the incident to stand, he was swaying now, and after a moment of trying to retain his balance, he slumped over, unconscious again. Arien caught him before he hit the floor, holding the trainer up with the help of his psychic powers. “What are you waiting for?” he called to the others, who were looking at Damian with worry. “I can carry him. Now MOVE!”

Now that the worst of the danger was over, Snowcrystal realized that she could smell the smoke and the flames – and they were not far off. She limped over to Blazefang, who was also limping, but had a steady enough pace. They followed Arien as he headed toward the door the machamp had come from, which led into the larger betting booth room. Nightshade followed last, his breathing labored and heavy as he trailed after them.

Snowcrystal tried not to look at Darkfang’s body as she passed it, looking instead at the doorway ahead of them. She did not want to be reminded of the scyther’s grisly death; even though she had not known him well, he had died trying to save them. When they emerged into the betting booth room, her eyes widened as she noticed that part of the booth itself was on fire. It took her a moment of panic before she realized that it had already died down; there was nowhere else here for Shadowflare to burn. Yet smoke was already piling up near the ceiling, and more was seeping in through the hallway leading to the arena. The smoke would spread through the rest of the underground until the fire completely burned out. She didn’t want to find out what kind of harm prolonged exposure to it could do; they had to get moving.

A shout from somewhere near the opposite wall caught their attention, and the group turned to see Thunder facing Mausk’s machamp, who was backed against the far wall of the room and clearly losing the fight, only barely managing to defend himself as Thunder ruthlessly slashed at him, clearly aiming for the throat.

“Thunder!” Snowcrystal shouted. “Follow us!”

She saw the scyther glance at her, but then ignore her, facing her cornered prey once again.

“Thunder, leave him!” Nightshade called to her, as loudly as he could manage. “We have to get out of here!”

Thunder hesitated, but, miraculously, Nightshade’s words seemed to change her mind, and she turned away from the machamp, who scurried into another hallway. Snowcrystal was not sure where he was going, but she figured that since Mausk had left him alone to fight them, the machamp was probably meant to meet up with him somewhere else. She figured that Mausk himself had probably already left the building.

Beside her, Blazefang tensed as Thunder walked purposely toward them, each of her movements stiff and calculated, as if she was on high alert. Blazefang shook his head, muttering, “No…not her…this is the last thing we need…”

“What are you doing with that human?” Thunder growled, her gaze piercing into Arien’s.

The alakazam was unfazed. “This is my trainer, and I’m bringing him to safety. Now get out of our way.”

Snowcrystal winced; Arien obviously had little idea about Thunder’s personality and mannerisms, having only what the group had told him about her to go on, as he had never met her before. However, to her surprise, Thunder didn’t try to attack or argue with him, and instead just glared at him, seeming unsure what to make of the psychic type.

“Do you know a way out?” Snowcrystal asked before Arien could make demands of Thunder again.

“Master never showed me directly,” the scyther began, her furious gaze still fixated on Damian’s unconscious form. “But there are plenty. Just find one. And…leave that human here.”

“Damian’s not one of them!” Snowcrystal cried. “He was the one who got us here! He helped you get out of your cage, remember?”

An explosion from somewhere deep in the hallways of the underground shook the walls and floor around them. Snowcrystal realized that the fire must have reached deeper into one of the cage rooms, and to the machinery inside them. “Thunder, we’ll explain later…let’s just get out of here!”

To her surprise, Thunder said nothing and instead turned to one of the hallways branching off from the rooms. Snowcrystal hoped she remembered Damian’s actions and had decided to trust him, but she also knew that Thunder could just be desperate to get out of the building too.

The group followed after Thunder, and though Snowcrystal could feel her strength returning in spite of her wound and Blazefang was keeping up well enough, Nightshade was lagging badly behind. She slowed down, allowing him to catch up while keeping an eye on where the others were going. She wished that Damian were awake; if he could catch them, they could probably get to a pokémon center from the lab within minutes.

She felt the air getting hotter, harder to breathe. She could see the blue Shadowflare smoke beginning to choke the room, and she was glad when they left it and walked into a wide hallway.

It didn’t take long before Thunder, at the head of the group, came to a door. Snowcrystal could tell that it was usually sealed off, but someone had left it open in a hurry. It led to a very narrow hallway ending with a set of stairs rising steeply upward. She gave a worried glance to the heracross, knowing the climb would be difficult for him.

Thunder, who, compared to most of the others, still had a lot of strength, bounded up the stairs in a heartbeat and turned to watch the rest of the group catch up. She still cast a suspicious glare at Arien as he carried Damian, but she did not confront him.

Snowcrystal got to the top of the stairs and stood beside the alakazam and his unconscious trainer. Blazefang followed her, breathing heavily and limping but managing to make his way up to them without much trouble. Down below was Nightshade, who halfheartedly tried to lift himself in flight before realizing he was too weak and resolving to climb the stairs. He tried to climb on all fours, but seeing as he only had one usable arm, it was difficult.

Thunder vanished for a moment, and after Snowcrystal and Arien had watched Nightshade struggle to climb his way to the top for the space of about a minute, she returned.

“Nightshade, there is a way out,” Thunder called down the stairs toward the heracross. “Follow me.”

“Can’t you carry him?” Snowcrystal asked Arien, angling her head toward Nightshade. She wished she could help, but she knew she was too small to be of any use to the much larger heracross. She knew Arien was partially lifting Damian with his psychic powers, and hoped he would be able to help Nightshade as well.

“No,” the psychic type replied. “I need the energy to bring Damian to safety. He’ll have to walk by himself.”

Before Snowcrystal could reply, Arien set off in the direction Thunder had indicated, and Blazefang limped after him. Thunder, however, remained at the top of the stairs, pacing back and forth anxiously as she watched Nightshade.

When the heracross finally reached the top, the scyther turned and walked into the hallway she had discovered, and when Snowcrystal followed, they soon saw Arien and Blazefang waiting for them impatiently.

“Nightshade, hurry it up!” the alakazam growled at the heracross, gritting his teeth as he looked at Damian’s prone form.

“I’m trying!” Nightshade snapped, shooting an uncharacteristically angry glance at the psychic type.

“Good,” he replied tersely. “Don’t stop trying.” With that, he turned around and walked briskly into the hallway.

Thunder sped up so that she matched Arien’s pace. “We don’t care what you have to say!” she growled. “Go on by yourself if you want to, but stop bossing us around like you’re our master.”

The alakazam, not breaking his stride, shot a furious glare at the scyther. “I am trying to get us out of here!”

“Well you’re doing a pretty poor job of it,” Thunder snapped back. “I’m the one who found the way out.”

“Just do as I say,” Arien said lowly, his eyes taking on a dangerous glint. “Then we’ll be out of here and you can go wherever you want.”

Thunder gave him a mocking laugh. “Do what you say? Who died and made you leader?”

“We can’t exactly afford to wait around,” Arien replied through gritted teeth, lifting his head toward the smoke that was beginning to creep through the hallway. He looked over his shoulder. “Nightshade!” he yelled. “Move it!”

“I see…” Thunder replied, her voice laced with disgust, “…you just like the feeling of ordering other pokémon around. It’s some sort of power trip isn’t it? Like Master.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to trainers like him!” Arien shouted, his normally calm voice distorted into a shout that made Snowcrystal step a few paces back in alarm.

Thunder, however, wasn’t fazed. “Is that another order, your majesty?”

“Guys…” whimpered Blazefang in a pained voice. “Please stop. Let’s just get out of here.”

Snowcrystal had to agree with him. Luckily, Arien was the one to see sense and, ignoring Thunder, he continued onward. She wasn’t used to seeing the alakazam act this way, even if he was usually strict when giving orders. She knew it had to be his worry for Damian that was driving him to act in such a manner toward the other pokémon. Yet the arguments were nothing but a waste of time, and she didn’t like the way he was treating the injured Nightshade.

Thankfully, they didn’t have far to go before they reached another elevator platform, this one much smaller than the massive one leading to the arena. The pokémon took a short, but welcome rest as it carried them upward.

“The door’s at the end of the hallway at the top,” Thunder was telling Nightshade. “It takes us outside.”

In response, Nightshade only nodded numbly.

Snowcrystal moved over to Damian’s still body as the elevator lifted them up, watching the faint light patterns from the dim lamps above them move across his face. She slowly reached down and licked his cheek, wishing that he would wake up. She wasn’t sure how Thunder would react to that, however, and reluctantly admitted that it might be better that he was unconscious – and therefore not someone she would consider a threat – for the moment.

“Does that trainer still have Stormblade?” Thunder asked out of the blue, obviously referring to Katie. The scarred scyther hadn’t been present when Katie had joined the group, but she had been there when Snowcrystal had first informed everyone else that she’d seen Stormblade’s capture.

“Yes…” Snowcrystal began, “and that trainer’s travelling with us.”

Surprisingly, Thunder didn’t say anything in response to that. Instead, she just looked deep in thought. Snowcrystal had a feeling that it wasn’t just about the human. Thunder had rejected Stormblade’s friendship even more so than she had Nightshade’s, and Snowcrystal couldn’t help but wonder if she was having second thoughts. She did seem to be friendlier toward Nightshade at the moment, even to the point of defending him, in her own strange way. Yet Snowcrystal knew that Thunder was unpredictable, and told herself that it was probably only brief; Thunder would likely go back to berating and insulting him along with the others soon. She wondered where Thunder would go now, if she refused to get along with the rest of the group, especially the humans.

They reached the top, and Thunder had been right; a hallway branched off from the area occupied by the elevator platform, and at the end of it they could see a door, partially ajar, letting in streams of moonlight. When Snowcrystal reached it, she saw that it led into a secluded alley. She couldn’t tell from where she stood, but she assumed that it was near the department store they’d first entered the underground from.

Immediately upon reaching the alley, Arien set Damian down, leaning him against the alley wall. As he waited for the other pokémon to make it through, he grabbed Damian’s pokégear and activated it.

“Let’s get out of this disgusting city,” Thunder muttered, ignoring the alakazam.

“Thunder, we have to wait for the others,” Snowcrystal insisted. “We need to-”

She was interrupted when Justin’s voice sounded from the pokégear. The boy was clearly panicked, and frustrated that Arien was the only one on the other end of the call. The alakazam took the pokégear, walked outside the alley, and presumably used the device’s video feature to show Justin the location, because she heard the boy say “I’ll be right there,” before the call ended.

“I don’t see any of the trainers from the fighting ring,” Arien mused as he returned. “There’s hardly anyone around, and no one seems to be noticing anything unusual, either. They don’t know there’s a fire down there.”

“It…won’t find a way to spread, will it?” Snowcrystal asked.

“No, it’ll run out of room to burn underground,” the alakazam replied. “The building walls didn’t catch fire, so it will be contained.” He looked back toward the alley’s exit, at the brightly lit buildings of Stonedust City. “It’s odd, though…no one out and about seems to have noticed hundreds of trainers coming through…those gamblers must have a method to ensure they all leave the arena without attracting too much attention.”

“Well, let’s hope we don’t run into any of them,” Blazefang muttered.

Suddenly Damian let out a groan and stirred, staring groggily around at the pokémon before he leaned forward, trying to sit up. “Where are we…” He trailed off, looking just as confused as he had when they were underground.

They must have been very close to the department store – and therefore the rest of the group – because they suddenly heard footsteps, and Justin and Spark appeared at the alley entranceway, followed quickly by the rest of the wild pokémon. Katie, however, was missing.

Thunder tensed up, and Nightshade shook his head, lightly touching her arm to get her attention. “No…Thunder…they’re my friends…” he said weakly. Thunder merely growled in response, but made no hostile movements toward the trainer as she backed further into the darkness of the alley.

“What happened?” Justin cried, rushing to Damian’s side without paying the pokémon any attention. “Katie went to get the police a while ago, but she hasn’t come back and…” He froze, suddenly noticing the blood on Damian’s vest. His eyes widened, and he stepped back, a look of horror crossing his face. He looked about to say something when his gaze traveled over the other pokémon and rested on Thunder’s shadowy form.

“A scyther!” he cried, scurrying frantically backward toward the alley’s entrance. “Pokémon!” he shouted, looking over his shoulder toward the group of his companions behind him. He rushed behind Redclaw. “St-stop it! It tried to kill Damian! It-”

“No…she didn’t,” Damian wheezed. His voice still sounded listless and distant, and his eyes were half closed. “It was…something else…her trainer I think…”

Redclaw and Spark stepped forward, standing protectively in front of Justin as he watched Thunder, which seemed to make the boy calm down a little. He could realize that Thunder had no incentive to turn hostile with so many pokémon willing to defend him. The scyther was already backing away from the crowd of pokémon, either on the defensive or just out of pure displeasure at being around so many others. She soon stood at the back of the alley, looking anything but ready to attack. Still, Justin continued to hide behind Redclaw, gripping handfuls of the arcanine’s fur as he stared warily at the blade-wielding bug type.

“Damian,” Justin began, “you need to get to a hospital.”

Damian shook his head. “No…I’m not hurt. Scytheclaw must’ve helped me. I’m just tired…”

Justin peered at the tear in Damian’s shirt, the area the blood spots were centered around, seeming to realize that there was no longer a wound. He sighed nervously. “Fine. Whatever. Let's just go...somewhere else.” He gave Thunder another fearful glance.

The scyther, however, didn’t move. She was aware of all the hostile glances thrown her way by the pokémon she had once traveled with. She made no move to attack, but instead stood still.

“You can tell us what happened later,” Wildflame spoke up as she addressed Snowcrystal and Blazefang, walking further into the alley toward them. “We need to get to a pokémon center.” She approached Blazefang, sniffing his wounds. “I have to say,” she began, trying to lighten the heavy mood, “you look great as a houndoom.”

“Sure,” Blazefang muttered. “Let’s just get to the damn pokémon center.”

“Right,” Wildflame replied nervously. She looked at Nightshade, an even more worried look coming to her face. “Nightshade?” she asked, approaching him and taking in his beaten state and the blood that coated parts of his body. “You’re…hurt bad, aren’t you? Where are you bleeding from?” The heracross, however, didn’t seem to be able to give a proper answer.

“She’s not coming with us, is she?” Rosie spat, interrupting them. The ninetales glared daggers at Thunder. “I can’t believe she’d show her face around us again, that-”

“Now’s not the time, Rosie!” Arien called. He gripped Damian’s arm, helping him to his feet. The trainer had to fully lean against the alakazam, unable to stand properly on his own.

“Thunder can go wherever she wants,” Redclaw huffed. He approached Nightshade, showing no fear of the scarred scyther. “What happened to you?” he asked incredulously, taking in Nightshade’s battered state. The heracross was leaning forward as if unable to stand fully upright, and his breathing was shallow.

“Save it for later,” Arien called from ahead.

Redclaw lowered his body enough for Nightshade to climb onto his back. The heracross shakily clambered up to the arcanine’s shoulders. He clung to Redclaw’s mane with the claws of his left arm, his injured right still useless. After making sure Nightshade was secure, Blazefang limped out of the alley, supported by Wildflame.

Spark brought up the rear as they left the alley, giving Thunder a challenging glare. The scyther glared right back, but did not follow them. The pokémon emerged into the moonlit streets, deciding to keep to the shadows so that no other late night pedestrians would notice the bad shape Damian and Nightshade were in. Justin, meanwhile, held up his phone, trying to get hold of Katie.

As the pokémon slunk away from the alley, glad that there were currently only a few other humans out and about in this part of the city, Nightshade slipped from Redclaw’s back and crashed painfully on the street. The pokémon and trainers turned their heads to him, but before Redclaw could help him back up, a green blur came to a halt a few yards from the heracross.

“I want to talk to him,” Thunder demanded.

“No way!” Rosie shouted, darting forward as her nine tails arched above her head. “You just want to finish what you started!”

Thunder shook her head, and, to the others’ shock, lowered her blades and crouched down, assuming as unthreatening a pose as possible. Wildflame and Blazefang exchanged confused glances as Thunder continued, “I won’t hurt you. I want to talk to Nightshade. Then I’ll leave you alone if you want.”

“What are you standing there for?” Justin demanded, the fearful glare returning to his eyes as he looked around at the pokémon before pointing to Thunder. “Attack it!”

No pokémon moved.

“Spark?”

The jolteon shook his head, prompting a shocked expression from Justin.

“If she attacks,” Redclaw began, “we will fight. But not until then.”

As Damian mumbled a quick translation to Justin, Nightshade looked into Thunder’s eyes. Though he remembered all too clearly the pain she had inflicted on him, pain that had lasted for months, and he was hesitant to put himself in a position that might lead history to repeat itself, something in the look of the scyther’s eyes told him that she was telling the truth. Slowly, he nodded his head, and warily stepped closer, steadying himself with his uninjured arm.

“We won’t kill you, Thunder,” Wildflame was saying in a low tone, “but if you hurt him, we’ll make you wish you were dead.”

Though Thunder had argued with the others time and again, she said nothing this time, and merely stepped a bit further away so Nightshade could follow her. At the insistence of Redclaw and Wildflame, however, they only walked a few yards from the main group; the others would be able to see and hear everything.

Nightshade straightened up as much as he could and looked at Thunder uneasily, his eyes resting on the blades she had used to so badly wound him merely months ago. He closed his eyes, trying to drive the memories from his mind before he looked at her again. Blinding pain was searing up his injured arm like fire, and the rest of his body was hardly any better off. He was well aware of how vulnerable he was, wounded to the point where he could hardly stand, staring straight at a pokémon that was trained to kill and could snap with little provocation. Yet he knew that his friends would jump to his rescue should anything happen, and after Thunder had saved his life, he didn’t think she would be quick to attack him.

He wasn’t sure exactly what the scyther wanted to tell him, and when she spoke, it came with the same bluntness that Thunder usually used to express her views, yet what she did say greatly surprised him.

“I’m sorry,” Thunder said. “About hurting you. And I don’t want to be like that anymore. I want to change.”

Nightshade could hear the confused murmurs from some of the pokémon behind him, but he ignored them. “Thunder…?” He looked at her incredulously, wondering what could have prompted her to say such a thing.

“I…was wrong about you,” she said, interrupting him. “I thought you were using me like Master did. But…I know you wouldn’t be standing in front of me wounded like that if you only wanted my attention for personal gain. So, I think that…I understand now.” She gave him a serious look, not sounding at all ashamed or embarrassed over what she was about to say, only clear and straightforward. “You are a friend.” She paused. “And…I did a horrible thing.”

Nightshade looked at a loss for words, before he asked her, weakly but just as seriously, “Why the sudden change? What made you-”

“It wasn’t sudden,” Thunder replied. She paused to glance toward the waiting pokémon and trainers, but the look in her eyes was one of annoyance; it was clear that she didn’t care what they thought. “I realized it was a mistake right after I attacked you,” she said after a moment. “And once I got captured again…I started to really realize things. Maybe it was more accepting than realizing. You were right about a lot of things.”

Her voice betrayed to Nightshade the fact that Thunder found it hard to admit these things, but something had driven her to the determination she was showing now. And he knew that if Thunder had thought things over and was willing to change, he was willing to accept it.

“Thunder,” the heracross began, trying to keep his thoughts straight in spite of the pain. Immediately the scyther focused on him, looking intensely interested in what he had to say. “I would welcome you back to our group…but I won’t allow you to hurt any of us again.”

The other pokémon cast Thunder skeptical glances, knowing all too well how she had reacted to others telling her what to do in the past. Rosie backed up toward Redclaw, as if she expected Thunder to attack someone in a rage. Redclaw stepped forward protectively, wondering how Thunder would react. Nightshade could hardly enforce such a thing in his current state, and the arcanine hoped that would be enough to keep Thunder from getting angry.

Thunder looked Nightshade straight in the eyes. “Good. I won’t hurt any of you again, but…if I did…I would want you to stop me.”

Nightshade tried to straighten up again, giving her a small smile. His voice was weak and strained. “Thunder, I understand that what you’ve been through was terrible…and that that…had an effect on…”

Thunder shook her head firmly. “No, Nightshade. You don’t understand,” she stated. “You’re not listening to me at all.” She paused, and though the group of pokémon standing beyond Nightshade waited expectantly, Thunder acted as if they weren’t there. “…It was not Master who hurt you. It was me. I was the one who did it. And trust me; you were not the one to make a mistake.”

Nightshade’s eyes widened at this. He knew that in the past, Thunder would have jumped to blame the pokémon who had triggered her anger one way or another. He was unsure just what had made such a change in her, and he stared at her in bewilderment. He looked lost for words as Thunder continued.

“Being captured by Master again made me think…realize that not all pokémon are like the ones he trained. I sure knew you weren’t.” She glanced around Nightshade toward the group of pokémon and humans waiting for her. “I’m not sure about the others…but if you trust them…” she began, a bit hesitantly, “…I guess I could try to trust them too. Even the humans, if you want.”

It was clear from the tone of her voice that she still didn’t approve of Justin or Damian being there, but she looked much less hostile toward them than before. Perhaps, Nightshade thought, she had come to realize just what Damian had risked to go into the fighting ring, and remembered that he’d helped set caged pokémon free without capturing them for himself.

“I don’t want to be like I was before,” she continued, her voice not small or meek, but direct and honest in a way that Nightshade could tell showed she was telling the truth. “I don’t want to be like I was when I attacked you. I want to be a better pokémon…friend.”

To Nightshade’s astonishment, Thunder lowered her head and body, crouching down as she assumed a submissive pose, bowing her head. The pokémon who were watching the spectacle could only stare in disbelief. Those who had known Thunder knew that in the past, she would never have acted like that toward anyone willingly. She had refused to do such a thing even toward her Master, even when refusing meant a punishment. Yet there she was, showing submission to a badly injured heracross of her own free will.

Nightshade just smiled as he knelt down, reaching out with his good arm and lifting Thunder’s head. “Come on,” he said gently. “Stand up.” Thunder looked at him in surprise, but got to her feet. “That’s better.”

As the two of them faced each other, the heracross found himself once again thinking back to the time Thunder had attacked him. This time, it was his own reactions to the incident that surfaced in his mind. He thought back to the morning after Thunder had attacked him, a time when even he, for all the patience and understanding he’d thought he had, had momentarily given up on Thunder. The words he’d said to Snowcrystal came flooding back to his mind…

"I don't blame Thunder," he had said on that day. "I blame her master for turning her into the pokémon that attacked me."

Realization dawned on him as he understood that what he’d said couldn’t be further from the truth, further than Thunder’s actions now. In all the time he’d known her, he’d always known Thunder to be honest, despite her other flaws. She always said what she was thinking, even if she kept many things hidden. Yet even if he hadn’t known that, he could tell through the scyther’s words and actions in this moment that she had been telling the truth. And at that time he, much like the others, had thought that Thunder was beyond any sort of help. “Thunder,” he began, closing his eyes for a brief moment. “I thought...when you attacked me...that Master really did have a hold on you that couldn't be broken. I was...very wrong.”

“But…” Thunder began, giving him a smile that looked a bit unnatural, but Nightshade could tell it was only due to the fact that Thunder simply was not used to smiling, not any intended malice on her part. “You were right about me before that, right?”

“Thunder, you saved my life,” Nightshade continued, looking sincerely at Thunder even though he was still struggling to stay standing in his weak state. “I know you mean what you say. And I forgive you.”

To his surprise, Thunder leaned forward and gently butted his horn with her head, which he knew, coming from Thunder, was probably the most genuine show of affection the scyther could show anyone at the moment. Thunder still had a long way to go…but now, she was willing to change, and from what it looked like, willing to let him in instead of shutting him out.

“It was incredibly strong of you to face these things,” Nightshade said. “And if you want to change, well, you’re already well on your way. And I’ll be right there beside you.”

Thunder nodded in response. “Okay, Nightshade.” She stepped past him, giving the rest of the group an unsure look.

“Did Thunder get hit on the head or something?” Blazefang whispered, leaning in toward Wildflame.

“Er…I think she got un-hit on the head,” the other houndoom responded.

“Well, I think we were wrong about her,” Redclaw said with a smile.

“I’m not so sure…” Rosie growled.

“I’m willing to give her a chance,” Alex cried, clapping her paws together. “Hooray, Thunder!” The floatzel immediately stopped clapping when Thunder shot her a glare.

“Uh…in case she’s lying,” Blazefang began, “Arien, you’ll be able to use your psychic powers to tell us she’s about to attack or something, right?”

“Not exactly,” the alakazam replied, “but I don’t think it would take a psychic to know to be wary if she seems agitated or angry. I suppose we can give her a chance, but we’ll need to be careful. If she really will change…time will tell.”

Snowcrystal, however, wanted to trust in the scyther’s judgment. She had never known Thunder to be a lying or manipulating pokémon; she stated whatever she thought. She had said many terrible things about the other pokémon in the past, but that was because she had, or at least thought she had, believed them. But now, it seemed like she was finally seeing through that confusing haze, starting to see her real thoughts for what they were.

“So…are we all buddies now or what?” Spark asked, giving Thunder a grin.

The scyther gave him a faint scowl. “No…” she began, “…but…” She addressed the entire group in particular – minus Nightshade – as she finished. “I’ll come with you again.” She positioned herself close to Nightshade, but still seemed reluctant to step toward the other pokémon.

Justin, who’d been frozen in fear the whole time Thunder had been near them, turned to Damian. “Okay…I know Arien told you everything they said. That…that scyther’s not coming with us, is she?” He glanced around nervously at the few passersby in the area, seeming nervous about the fact that none of them were close enough to the alley to see what was going on.

Damian, however, seemed on the verge of unconsciousness again, but Spark answered for him, nodding his head.

Justin’s eyes widened. “You’ve gotta be kidding me…”

“Well…if she wanted to hurt us, she would have done so already,” Damian said quietly, and everyone’s attention turned to him as he tried to stand up again, using Arien for support. “Now…come on, we should get to the pokémon center…maybe that scyther could come too.”

Justin only stared hatefully at Thunder, but the presence of Spark seemed to calm him enough, and he stood warily by the jolteon’s side, his hand on Spark’s back.

Nightshade looked Thunder over. She had a large scrape on her side from the tauros’s horn in the arena fight, as well as several bruises, but compared to when he’d last seen her, she looked positively healthy, despite being so thin. He knew that he was the one who looked like a wreck. He wasn’t sure that an experience with the pokémon center would help Thunder much at all; it might cause too much stress to be worth it. But if she trusted him, it might be better that she stay nearby. Perhaps he could convince the nurses’ pokémon that accommodations be made so that she could be more comfortable.

“Now, I know you don’t like this city, Thunder,” he began, “and you don’t like being around humans…but if I go to the pokémon center…well, I’m sure they could help you too, if you wanted.” It seemed to cost Nightshade a lot of strength to speak, and he had to pause several times, but nevertheless continued with his message. “I spent a few months in the center myself, and I promise, the humans are very kind and they know how to deal with pokémon who aren’t used to it. They need to do what’s necessary, but if something bothers you, they will stop if you tell them to. They will bring you food whenever you ask for it, whatever kind you’d like. When I was there, this one chansey always brought me-”

“Nightshade…” Thunder interrupted, giving him an annoyed glare. “That’s a stupid idea. There’s no way I’m doing that.”

“But, Thunder…”

“Argh!” Justin cried out, causing all the pokémon to look at him. “Katie’s not answering her pokégear!” He shook the phone in his hand, looking as if he was ready to smash it into the ground. “What on earth is so damn important that it’s worth ignoring us for?”

“She’s probably…talking to the police,” Damian mumbled.

At this, Justin froze, his eyes widening. “You’re right. Let’s get out of here.” He cast a nervous glance in the direction of the closed department store, knowing that the police would probably be there soon, if they weren’t there already.

“Stay close to us, Thunder,” Nightshade told her as Redclaw came over to help him onto his back again.

“You don’t need his help,” Thunder mumbled, looking at Nightshade disapprovingly.

“Actually,” he replied, climbing unsteadily onto the arcanine’s back with his one working arm, “I do need it. Just like you needed us to free you from that cage.” He gave her another small smile.

Thunder just muttered under her breath, coming to stand beside Redclaw. She gave the arcanine an uncertain look, but said nothing to him.

Redclaw sighed, turning and following the group as Justin began to lead them away from the department store. He knew they’d soon reach parts of the city where they would encounter lots of people, and they could attract unwanted attention if any other trainers got close enough to see Damian and the injured pokémon outside of their poké balls. He hoped no one would question them; they just needed to get back to the camp and to the pokémon center as quickly as possible without being bothered. At least it was nighttime, and there wouldn’t be as large a crowd as usual. The arcanine walked carefully, hoping he wouldn’t aggravate Nightshade’s injuries, but it became to clear to him that avoiding that was impossible. He gave the heracross an apologetic look over his shoulder as he followed the others.

They walked through an alley that led them to a street with open shops, and therefore, trainers. Redclaw watched as Thunder backed warily away, her blades raised in defense. The arcanine wished he could simply give her directions to their camp so she could fly there quickly, but he wasn’t sure he wanted Thunder running off by herself. Nightshade may have gained trust in her, but he wasn’t quite so sure.

“Finally…” he heard Justin mutter on his breath, and glanced at the boy, who was at the front of the group, furthest away from Thunder, with Spark at his side. He was looking at Katie’s image on the small screen of his phone. “Where were you?”

“Trying to convince the police to come,” Katie’s voice retorted. “Someone gave them the idea the fighting ring was in a completely different location, and without any pictures we didn’t really have evidence. Apparently they thought I was ‘just another kid trying to confuse them.’ These people must have trainers running around giving the police wrong information or something.” She gave a frustrated sigh. “Plus a lot of the officers and their pokémon were really busy investigating the library incident.”

“So they’re on their way now?”

“Yeah, should be,” she responded. “What happened down there? Everyone’s fine…right?”

“Uh…no one’s dead,” Justin replied. “Look, we’ll explain later. I don’t even have a clue what happened and I’m not sure I want to know, but I’m not going to feel safe until we get back to the hotel. But first we need to get the pokémon to a center, and Damian wants to go back to camp…” Suddenly, he felt something bump against his leg. He looked down to see Spark looking worriedly up at him. “What?” he muttered.

Spark gave a small whine and angled his head toward a large shop across the street from where they were standing. Justin followed his gaze, unsure what had caught his pokémon’s attention until he noticed the flashing images on a large television screen set above the shop’s doorway. It was currently set to some news station, and the Stonedust City Library, followed by shots of burned shelves in its interior, scrolled across the screen. The next image was of a newscaster, standing outside the front doors of the building. Despite the noise of the streets, her voice rang out loud enough for the gathered group to hear.

“After analyzing fingerprints left behind recently in several parts of the library, including a passage not available to the public, it was found that these matched up with the IDs of two trainers…”

Both Damian and Justin felt their blood run cold as, suddenly, the images that had been used for both their trainer licenses appeared on-screen. Below Damian’s, several pictures of pokémon were listed. Justin’s had none, as he was no longer technically a trainer, and Spark was not registered.

The pokémon under Damian’s, however, were not his current team. They were listed as ‘Recently Caught Pokémon,’ and as the group scanned the images, they saw a generic picture of a growlithe, an arcanine, a floatzel, a houndoom, a houndour, a ninetales, and a heracross. “If a trainer is seen with any of these pokémon,” the lady on the television continued, “particularly with more than one, please alert the authorities if anything suspicious…” As the screen showed brief close-ups of each pokémon species, it paused on the heracross image, which, unlike the others, was not a generic image after all, but an actual photo showing a close-up of the scar over the bug type’s eye, a trait that the newscaster pointed out.

“What? That’s Nightshade’s scar…” Justin began, pointing a shaky hand toward the screen. “How did they get that image?”

“Well…” Damian began, sounding a bit more alert than he had been previously, as if seeing the pictures on the screen had somehow jolted his memory, “remember when I had to catch the pokémon…to bring them to the city when I first met them? Well…I knew the lab workers could tell what was in the poké balls that were sent through the machine.” He paused as he wavered a bit, trying to steady himself with his pokémon’s help. “I got to the city and was able to switch them out, then release them before the workers in the lab sent them out on the ranch. But Nightshade…” he glanced toward the heracross. “They get notified when a pokémon is in really bad shape. I had him transferred to the pokémon center as soon as I could, but they would have sent him out immediately to examine him at the lab. They must have taken the picture-”

“Then this is her fault,” Rosie growled, throwing a glare at Thunder. “She’s the reason he was hurt back then-”

“Stop it!” cried Wildflame. “Don’t you think we have enough problems without you starting something?” She glared at the ninetales, who glared right back.

“What’s going on?” Katie’s voice cried from Justin’s phone. “What happened? Is something wrong?”

“Y-yeah,” Justin stuttered, his eyes focused solely on the television screen across the street. When he’d taken the risk to invade the library, he’d never dreamed something like this would have happened. No one would have noticed a single book was missing for a while, and even then, he wasn’t sure how readily the police would launch a full-on investigation because of it. Yet since the building had caught fire…all of that had changed. “I…I…there’s a problem,” he whispered, his face white as a sheet as the newscaster’s voice blared from the television screen again.

“Again, the names of the perpetrators are Damian Cooke and Justin Mitchell.”

To be continued...