[X] My Assistant

[Umbrae Calamitas]

He was huge.

HUGE!.

Moby Dick-huge.

And not like the thief, either. No, not with a bulging stomach that made him appear as though he should be gasping for breath at every step he took. No, this man had muscles the size of the wagon Tuesday had dragged Dante around in when he'd fallen out of a tree he had somehow managed to climb. She'd pulled him all the way to Professor Oak's laboratory in that thing, and this guy had muscles the size of it.

... and an ego the size of her dad's Dodge pick-up.

"Kick his ass, Jamie!" she yelled loudly, which earned her a stern look from the emperor, but an amused glance from the thief.

"You really think he can win?" the man asked, smirking.

"He already beat everyone else," she snapped. Well, he'd managed to survive was the truth. Everyone had been paying more attention to the people they knew and loathed. They tended to overlook the wimpy kid they had no grudges with, until they'd finished with their own. But she had watched the battle without looking away, and his pokemon were good. He could do this.

He would do this.

The thief chuckled, pulling her from her thoughts. "Don't be so sure," he said, and leaned closer to her. Discretely, he pulled a small vial out of the inside of his cloak. "Tell me, brat. Do you know what this is?"

The sunlight gleamed off of the near-empty vial. What meager amount of liquid that was left was crimson in color, but seemed to reflect the light as though it were mixed with ground-up diamonds. Tuesday shook her head, her eyes never leaving the vial (poison?). For some reason (was he going to poison the emperor?), she found herself drawn 9was the winner of the match going to be poisoned?to it 9had they already been?).

The thief began to explain the nature of the potion snidely, clearly not realizing that she was only half paying attention, as her thoughts whirred and danced in several directions at once. Had he been looking into her eyes, he would have seen that they were glazed and seemed to stare out at nothing. Part of her listened to him as he spoke, but another part was no longer on this world, but somewhere else - vanished off to that realm that she disappeared to when she was thinking hard about something. Not even she knew where exactly she went at these moments. Perhaps she never would...

"This is a potion I crafted myself," he explained in a whisper. "In our time, we might call it steroids. However, this is no meager supplement. Oh no. You see, my little friend her-" He shook the vial back and forth. "-has the potency to strengthen a pokemon to twice their normal power." He grinned savagely. "You may think that your big brother is good, but I promise you, he's not that good. Even if he does beat Aquillus' four pokemon, he'll never defeat the fifth. He really will be a demon from hell when he drinks the water I've laced with this." He chuckled darkly.

"They'll find you out," Tuesday whispered.

"No they won't," he admitted gleefully. "Didn't you know? Beings such as that damned shadow horse are omens of bad luck. Aquillus might win with him, but they'll kill him as soon as the match is done. No one will ever know." He stepped away from her then, hiding the vial in his cloak and grinning madly as he turned back to the match. To his mind, everything was going according to plan. Jaima would die, his pokemon would be killed, and Tuesday would be trapped as a slave until he found a way to frame her as a traitor...

And he'd probably use that damn potion, wouldn't he? Let them think that Jaima's pokemon were given a power-potion by her in order to buy the match in their favor. It'd be the perfect way to get rid of them both.

But only if Aquillus won.

Tuesday stared down at the ground, thinking. Tempest was, as she had been instructed, hiding in the vents, watching the match, in case Jaima needed her. But Tuesday still had Dante, and the thief had said that the fifth pokemon was a... a shadow horse. But what could that mean? The only equine pokemon that Tuesday could recall were Ponyta and Rapidash, but they didn't look like demons...

Unless it was of a rare breed. One of those with a genetic flaw. She had seen a picture once, when she was younger. One of Professor Oak's books had held information on the odd chromosome that caused a pokemon to have a distinctly odd coloring. People called them "shiny" pokemon, though she didn't know why. She didn't think they were particularly shiny. The Ponyta, in fact, had flames of dark blue.

Which could be mistaken as a demon, no doubt, in this time when no one knew of genetic structures and chromosomes.

So... a fire-type, doomed to die whether it lost or won.

Tuesday looked around and noticed no eyes on her. There was no one behind her and everyone else was concentrating on the battle. She pulled out Dante's pokeball and called him forth. The sound of battle prevented his summoning from being overheard, and she spoke quietly.

"Go find the Ponyta," she whispered softly to him. "It's probably down in the area just behind the doors, waiting to enter the arena. Tell him what's going to happen to him. Try to get him on our side, okay?"

Dante nodded but didn't risk speaking. Without a word, but sparing a look that cried for her to be careful, he quickly slipped from the balcony and off to do her bidding.

Biting her lip, Tuesday turned back to watch as Jaima and his pokemon battled Aquillus. She dearly hoped that Dante could convince the Ponyta to join them. If Jaima could defeat Aquillus with his help, then Tuesday might be able to turn the thief's plan around on him. She might be able to reveal his plan to cheat. And then maybe they could catch him.

As she stared down at the field, she couldn't help but wonder what would happen then, to the Ponyta.

[Master Houndoom]

He had no idea if he could do this.

Jaima stared up at the large man who had ordered his pokmon to attack, swallowing thickly. He was a monster, a madman. Jaima could see it in his eyes. He wouldn't stop until he was beaten into the ground, and this man was too much for Jaima to take.

Calm.

Jaima took a deep breath, muttering as his pokémon went out into combat with their foes, "How can I stay calm? He's a monster of a man, and I'm... I'm just a kid. I can't fight him..."

You don't have to fight him, Trainer Jaima. Your kids have to fight his weapons. And the orders that you gave us have made us well suited to that fight.

Jaima looked again. True enough, though the massive heracross was trying it's best to punch Ember, her smaller size was making her a hard target, and being a bug, the ember attacks were causing it more pain than otherwise. Ember giggled, relaxed for once during a fight, though the gigle was shriller than her usual cyndaquil laugh. Grondir's vines were whiping back and forth as he dodged the sandslash. Even though it was an evolved pokémon, Grondir's type advantage was in his favor, and he had managed to poison it, so the clawed pokémon was slower than usual. Shadow was the closest matched to his opponent. Both he and the zangoose twisted and turned in the air, the zangoose's natural agility nearly cancelling out Shadow's attacks. Jaima almost sent Tsunami in, but a quick look (more of a glare) from the riolu made him pause.

Fighting types, Mercury said, with a tone as if her eyes were rolling. He's having fun. He finds it the best challenge he's had in a long time.

Jaima smiled. "OK, let him have his fun," he said, watching Fang. His youngest pokémon was also, by all appearances, having fun, letting the bird nearly touch him before he sent a thunderblast his way and bounced away, nxing the entire time. The bird, also an evolved form, was stiff as it launched itself, slow, and Jaima nodded. Fang had managed to paralyze it.

A horrible thought came over him, they needed to start covering each other. They were, in some ways, weak to one of their teammates' opponent's attacks, and this could easily get out of hand. Mercury's eyes glowed, and Shadow leapt aside just in time to miss an attack by the fearow. Fang leapt and bit it on the wing, his mouth charged with electricity, dodging a ground attack from the sandslash. Grondir chuffed as it turned to try to get Ember at it's master's commande and doused it with sleep powder. Though it slowed more, it didn't fall asleep right away. The poison sickness was keeping it awake. The team moved closer together, better able to cover each of the weak teammate's back.

Keep thinking what you want done, Trainer Jaima. I will make sure you get your commands to them.

"FIGHT WITH HONOR, MANGY CUR," shouted Aquilus, but Jaima ignored him, watching his team. Mercury's trick was amazing, but he could feel her straining to monitor his thoughts and keep the other four connected. Tsunami fidgeted at Jaima's feet, looking up finally. "Am I not a good enough battler," she asked sadly. "That's why my last master threw me away."

"No, honey," Jaima said absently. "I don't know if you are or not, but I have a feeling there's more, and I needed to keep you back."

The Fearow fell, followed by the Heracross. Instead of pressing the attack, Jaima called them back to his feet to rest.

"They're weaker than I expected!" Ember's voice was quivering, both, it seemed, from fear and excitement. "If this guy fights all the time, why are his pokémon weak?

Mercury had the answer, but as she was still linking, she sent it mentally. He loses them in combat and has to catch... or steal... new ones. He's been afraid for some time that someone with much better "weapons" would come. He's got a weapon, though... A secret weapon. One he is only allowed to bring out once, and will lose when it's out, but will guarantee his victory.

"And what is that?"

If I knew, I would have said, silly!

The Sandslash went down, and then, with a mighty kick that left the zangoose reeling before it, too, fell, Shadow hopped back to Jaima as well.

"You would have been better off," said the Gladiator, breathing heavily in shock, "losing, whelp... BEHOLD!! FEAR THE MIGHT OF THE FIREY DEMON FROM THE DEPTHS OF HELL! DO YOU TREMBLE? DO YOU QUAKE? CAN YOU SAY ANYTHING AT ALL?!"

"Yeah. Breathmint. Use one."

The crowd was too shocked to laugh, except for one tiny voice that did so and was silent after a second.

"FACE THE WRATH OF THE DEMONRIDER!!!"

From the stands shot a blue flame, a blur of blue and cream, that was nearly too fast to follow. When it came to Aquilus, it dashed around him, once, slowing, and stopped in front of him. The blue flamed ponyta whinnied, trembling, but snorting in anger.

Jaima swallowed, then looked down.

"Tsunami? You're turn."

[Umbrae Calamitas]

Tuesday had seen a picture of a "shiny" Ponyta once, briefly. It was brief glimpse, but it was enough for her to know what the pokemon looked like, she was sure.

She was wrong.

Nothing - nothing - compared to seeing the creature in real life.

It was beyond beautiful. There were no words. Tuesday had read hundreds, perhaps thousands, of books, and she had yet to come across a blazon that would do the Ponyta justice.

Whether or not the world actually slowed down, Tuesday would never know. They were not held within the boundaries of Time, however, not with Celebi's help, and so she wouldn't have been surprised if that pokemon of legends past and future had kept the world itself from turning for moments, just to permit Tuesday to look at the Ponyta as he galloped into the Colosseum.

His coat was cream-colored, like vanilla pudding, and it glittered in the sunlight as though he had been painted with the same brush used to carve the diamonds that littered deep caverns. In contrast to that jewel-enriched coat, his hooves shined like coal, carved into the perfect shape to be elegant, yet deadlier than knives. His mane and tail, however, as expected, drew most of her attention.

Flowing out behind him like a banner in the midst of a parade, or perhaps a flag standing tall even among the dead and wounded lying in the middle of a war zone, the flames that made up his mane and tail were a mix of the deep blue of the ocean's depths, and the peaceful white-blue of the open summer sky. It was as though he stood on the horizon, or was the horizon, where the sky met the ocean - the embodiment of day and night, where the sun fell to the earth in its burning death, and rose every morning from the ashes of its own destruction, like the phoenix claiming its birthright.

The Ponyta reared, releasing a eerie whinny that seemed to echo among the living. For but a moment, Tuesday wondered if the creature wasn't summoned from the land of the dead, for its cry seemed to pass through everything around it, like a ghost slipping through the claws of Mortality, unable to be caught now that it was far beyond life, in the realm of the dead.

But she knew, of course, that the cry was only so eerie because the thousands of people in the stands had gone as silent as though even a whisper would summon Death to them. And perhaps that is what they thought, for the creature before them was beautiful to Tuesday's eyes, but to them, it was surely a beast to be feared.

And Aquillus thought that Jaima should fear it, as well.

Among the silence of the crowd and the air, Tuesday could hear Jaima's whispered command to his pokemon, as though he were yelling it directly to her ears. She could not interfere, of course, but she certainly hoped that Jaima's intentions would be unnecessary.

Aquillus pointed forward, looking crazy to Tuesday's eyes, as he cried loudly, "DEMON! I HAVE SUMMONED YOU FROM THE BELLY OF HELL TO DO MY BIDDING!" He laughed wildly, assured of his victory. "DESTROY THIS FOOLISH BOY, AND PROVE MY RIGHT AS CHAMPION OF THE COLOSSEUM!!!"

If they had been in the modern world, in Tuesday and Jaima's time, the crowd would have laughed, she was sure. Some of them, at least, would have chuckled upon seeing the Ponyta glance at Aquillus with an annoyed look upon his face, before laying down, as though her were basking in the sun amidst the flowers of a meadow.

"It disobeys him!" someone in the stands cried, rising to his feet and pointing toward the Ponyta with fear in his voice and eyes.

The panic began to spread quickly. "You've summoned a monster you cannot control!"

"You've doomed us all!"

I suppose we actually have come a long way since this, Tuesday mused, thinking of what the modern day reaction would have been, within reason, at least.

Aquillus' eyes narrowed. "I am in control," he growled. He pulled a long, thin knife from inside of his armor. "If you will not listen to me, then I will win the battle myself. Either way," he snarled, "you will die, beast." With that, he ran at Jaima, raising the blade high.

He made it three steps before the Ponyta had rose to its feet and bucked, slamming both of his rear legs into Aquillus' side and sending him crashing to the ground. The knife fell from his hands, clattering to the ground in front of Jaima, as the Ponyta turned, snorting angrily at the fallen Gladiator, but making no more move in offense against him. Perhaps Dante had mentioned something about that...

Jaima had picked up the knife and walked over to stand above Aquillus, who was gripping his side with a look of pain on his face. With the Ponyta momentarily forgotten in the face of a win, the crowd had begun a synchronized chant of "Kill! Kill! Kill!" Tuesday barely restrained a whimper, wishing for Tempest and Dante's presence. She wasn't sure she could continue watching, if Jaima would... if he... but he wouldn't. Would he?

The emperor had risen from his seat and was staring down at the battlefield. Aquillus and his pokemon were all still alive, but there were rules. The emperor, rather than yelling, raised his hand level with his chest, and then slowly revealed the thumbs-down sign.

The Kill Signal.

Tuesday hugged herself, but could not look away. She was glad she didn't. Jaima had looked up at the emperor and seen the sign. He raised the knife...

And then let it fall harmlessly to the ground.

His eyes continued to remain locked with those of the emperor for a moment before, point made, he walked back to where his pokemon were gathered and checked to see if they were all right.

"Gladiator!" the emperor called out to Jaima. "It is by the rules of this land that you must kill the one you have defeated!"

"I have defeated him," Jaima said, turning back around. "What purpose is there is killing him?"

"It is the law of this land."

"Then it is a stupid law."

The crowd abruptly silenced. Jaima was glaring now. "I've defeated him. Why should I kill him if it's obvious he's lost? Send him to do work for someone? Make him a slave in place of my sister!" He pointed to Tuesday, who ducked her head in reflex. "We were innocent wanderers when you took us as slaves. Now I've won this battle. As my prize, let me and my sister go."

"The rules state that you win your freedom upon the defeat of your opponents," the thief explained, stepping forward to do his "job" with a cruel smirk upon his face. "You have refused to finish your opponent, and so you choose death over freedom!"

"NO!" Tuesday shrieked. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Everyone ignored her, as the thief continued, "As penalty for his loss and his acts of demon conjuring, Aquillus Nigellus, too, is sentenced to death. GUARDS!" he cried. "END THE LIVES OF THESE TRAITORS!"

"NO!"

This time, it was Aquillus who spoke, struggling to his feet and wincing, but still managing to cry angrily at the thief, as he pointed an accusing finger at him. "You swore that the power would be mine!" he cried. "You said I would win with the added strength!" He gestured to the Ponyta, snorting and stamping his hoof. "He has disobeyed me, robbed me of the win that should have been mine! Traitor! Liar!" he cried, finally being silenced as he was grabbed by the guards.

The damage, however, had been done. The emperor turned to his advisor.

"What does he speak of?" he demanded to know.

For once, the thief appeared nervous, his hands wringing together, even as he tried to lie his way out of trouble. "Clearly, he is delusional, my liege," the thief said nervously. "You would believe a slave over your trusts advisor?"

"Trust comes with time," the emperor admitted. "You have not been here long enough to earn it by the rise of the sun, and have gained none from your actions. What does he speak of?"

Minerva appeared at that moment, looking nervous but determined. She bowed to the emperor, who appeared surprised at her boldness. "If I may speak, sire?" The emperor nodded. "Your advisor has no place in the stables where the weapons are kept, but he was in there earlier this evening, before the battles." She looked directly at the thief, her eyes full of fear but also holding a cold certainty. "He was adding witch-brew to the fifth weapon's food." She returned her gaze to the emperor, her eyes bearing nervousness for but a moment, before she said, "The Fates tell me that he still carries what remains of this brew on his person."

The emperor snapped his fingers at the guards. "Search him!"

As the guards did as they were told, Minerva came to stand next to Tuesday. "Are you all right, Ilia?"

"Yes," Tuesday replied. "Thank you." She grew nervous. "But... what if they call you a witch, too?" she asked, thinking of her claim that the Fates had told her what she knew.

"You're welcome, and worry not." Minerva smiled at her dubious expression. "You're not the only one that knows what the future looks like." Tuesday's surprise obviously showed upon her face, and Minerva added, "the only difference is, I didn't want to go back." That said, they turned to see the guards remove the potion from the thief's cloak, holding it to the light.

"So," the emperor began, "you would use what remains of this to take my throne?"

"N-No, my liege," the thief stammered. "I would never-"

"SILENCE!" the emperor cried. "Chain him! I do not want him to see light for three days. Then, I will decide what to do with him." As the guards did as they were bid, the emperor turned to see Jaima being led into the balcony, halted not four feet from where Tuesday was knelt on the floor. The emperor looked between them both. "Now... what shall be done with you?"

This post has been edited by Umbrae Calamitas: May 17 2009, 01:28 AM

[Master Houndoom]

"M-my Liege," Jaima said, dropping to one knee. "There is an artifact on your old advisor, the man who conspired against you. It is something my sister and I have traveled over treacherous distances to recover. It is our quest, because..." Jaima faltered, unable to think of a reason.

"He is a sorceror," tuesday supplied. "The potion, it proves it! He is a sorceror, and that talisman gives him power untold. With it, he is still a threat, oh mighty Caesar."

The Emperor regard them both, seemingly with lazy contempt, but after a short time, he motioned to one of the guards. "Send a runner to the centurions leading the prisoner away. Have them search him for any weapons or artifacts. If he resists, they are to kill him and search his corpse." He waved, and the guard walked away.

"I desire a servant," the Emperor sighed, and both Tuesday and the girl who had spoken up before stepped forward. He waved them away with a smile. Regarding the girl, he motioned her forward. "I no longer have an advisor. One who speaks boldly, and who the Fates deign to inform, is one I want by my side. You shall be my advisor, as soon as you tell me your name."

"Minerva," the girl said, stunned but beginning to smile. "It will be an honor to serve you."

"As for you," the Emperor said, regarding Tuesday, "Ilia, you are either a traveler wrongly imprisoned, or a slave who's freedom was won. Either way, I will not ask you to serve." He smiled, then, and ordered the slave who came to bring wine.

As they waited, Jaima was a focus of attention. "You are bold, to speak to me as you did. This speaks either well of you, proving you are not from this land, or ill, proving you dangerously mad. Either way," he chuckled, "things have been interesting. You command your weapons well."

"They are not weapons to me, my Lord. They are..." He paused, then plunged ahead, "like my children. If one had been hurt seriously, it would be as if I were wounded myself."

The Emporer regarded him curiously. "I often wonder," he said slowly, "if there is a need to see the warriors and their weapons die."

"There'd be a lot more entertainment if there was a way to see them when they're stronger, my Lord. My own team is strong, but they still have room to improve."

"I shall consider this."

Just then, a centurion stepped forward. His eyes shifted back and forth, and he seemed resigned. "My Lord. The prisoner has escaped."

Jaima and Tuesday exchanged grim looks, but the Emperor remained calm. "Explain," he said, again with seeming laziness. Jaima was beginning to expect that the laziness was an act.

"As we approached the prisons, he struggled. He broke free of my men, and pulled out a stone that shined as the sun. There was a bright flash, and... And he was gone." The Centurion knelt. "I take responsibility for this. My men performed their duties well."

"As did you," the Emperor said. "Rise. I have only now been warned that the prisoner was a sorceror. You cannot be punished for what you could not prepare for."

The Centurion, stunned by his good fortune, knelt with his arms crossed and left. The Emperor turned to Jaima. "Your words have proven true, yours and those of your sister. You are free. For aiding me, I grant you each a boon."

"I... Just want our clothes back." The Emperor made a look of distaste, but waved to the servant, who left, presumably, to fetch them."

Tuesday bit her lip, came to a decision, and raised her head. "The fire stallion... What is to happen to it?"

"A creature of evil must be destroyed," the Emperor said, raising a brow. It seemed to Jaima that he was testing her.

"Please, allow me to take him. He will..." She bit her lip again. "There is no evil in him."

The Emperor regarded her for a long time, then tured to Aquilas. "Your sphere tenura, Gladiator."

Aquilus looked at Tuesday mutinously, but Jaima stepped forward. The gladiator pulled a stone ball from his belt and held it to the Emperor, who motioned for him to give it to Tuesday. He sneered. "It doesn't listen."

"It will to her," Jaima said, his face a mask of composure."

* * * * *

Minerva, dressed in her new robes, walked them to the edge of town. They waited, until finally Jaima whispered, "we stopped the bad guy, why haven't we leapt, Al?"

"I... Don't know, Sam," quipped Tuesday. That was when Celebi appeared.

"Minnie!" She hugged Minerva tightly.

"It worked, Celebi," Minerva said with a smile. "Jaima and Tuesday set it in motion."

"Huh," Jaima asked stupidly. Celebi giggled.

"I had to sneak you here, because if I told you what you'd end up doing, you might try too hard."

"... What did we end up doing?"

Minerva smiled slyly. "Nothing important. Just set in motion the eventual creation of the Pokemon League."

Jaima and Tuesday looked at each other in shock, but their cries were lost as Celebi moved them forward in time.

This post has been edited by Hungry Hungry Houndoom: May 17 2009, 11:36 PM

[Umbrae Calamitas]

They had been transported first to Ancient Rome while they were asleep, so Tuesday supposed that it made sense, how they would be returned to sleep as they traveled back... forward... in time.

To the present, she thought, as she opened her eyes. The warm rays of the still-rising sun greeted her with more happiness than she generally gave the morning in return. Stretching with cat-like laziness, she sat up and looked around. Unlike their previous trip to the past, this one had not ended with their return to the present in an area further ahead than when they had left. Rather, Tuesday awoke to find herself lying in the same place she had been when she went to sleep in this same time period two days previous.

For one terrifying moment, Tuesday thought that she had merely dreamed of their trip to Ancient Rome.

In a desperate attempt to disprove this fear, however irrational it may have been, Tuesday grabbed at her belt.

There were three pokeballs. The one closest to her belt buckle was Dante's, she knew, not because of any markings she put on it, but because she had learned to discern the different feel of Dante and Tempest's pokeballs.

Both of the balls were your typical red and white pokeballs. Dante's pokeball, however, was warm to the touch. Now, all pokeballs that held a pokemon within their depths were warm to the touch, because they carried life, but Dante's was warmer still - almost hot. She supposed that it was because he was a fire-type, but she was merely speculating.

In contrast, Tempest's ball was warm with life, but not with fire. Rather, it seemed to have a charge to it. There was a heat as though the ball were made from wires constantly charged with electricity. Tuesday almost wondered why touching it didn't shock her, but it did explain the errant quality of her hair - the static charge made it stand on end. It might be tamer if she stuck her finger in a light socket.

There was, thankfully, however, a third pokeball on her belt. This was not red and white like the others, but grey and made of stone.

Sphere tenura.

Taking the three pokeballs off of her belt, Tuesday was momentarily startled at the contrast between the sphere tenura and the modern-style pokeballs. Of course, it made sense that a pokeball made of stone would weigh more, but she had been too preoccupied before to consider the difference, or to even truly think about her having acquired a new pokemon.

Now that she had time to think about it, however, she stared down at the third pokeball with something akin to amazement fluttering in her heart.

She had a new pokemon.

That thought in mind, Tuesday called out Dante and Tempest first, before pausing the the sphere tenura in hand. Dante and Tempest were both watching her expectantly and, considering their confident looks, she called forth the Ponyta she had first glimpsed during the Gladiator battles.

The red light emitted by the pokeball seemed not to change over time, Tuesday noted. It also came to her mind that the light seemed a prelude to fire, but when it faded, the flames that remained in its place were of a different shade.

Not even the swirling mass of light and dark blue, the flames of the Ponyta's mane and tail were black, like the night sky, devoid of stars. There was still a quality of blue within them, like the feathers of a crow that glistened ominously in a brief ray of light, but they gleamed eerily black against the Ponyta's vanilla cream coat.

As Tuesday regarded the pokemon before her, the Ponyta's attention more intently focused upon the fact that there was green grass beneath his hooves, she couldn't help but think that the Ponyta did, indeed, look like a ghost. A spectre borne from darkness, especially with a mane and tail of black fire. Standing there, staring at a creature that was so easily mistaken for a demon in lesser times, Tuesday found herself thinking of the demons within literature. The creatures that came to mind, so ominous in their name and the feel they brought to the hearts of characters and readers both, were the Nazgul, or Ringwraiths, as they were often called in the Common Tongue of Middle Earth. It was thanks to Tolkien's genius that the name Wraith was summoned to Tuesday's lips, and bound to the Ponyta's soul.

The Ponyta looked up upon hearing the whispered name from Tuesday's lips, and regarded her with a hybrid look of curiosity and caution. He snorted loudly, stamping his hoof on the ground and shaking out his mane.

"It's all right," Tuesday whispered, reaching out a hand gently. "You're not in the Colosseum anymore. They let me take you, as a prize." Her sarcasm apparently confused the Ponyta, who snorted, flicking his ears and tilting his head to the side. "Pokemon aren't things," Tuesday explained, "weapons or otherwise. I didn't want them to destroy you for being different, so I asked that I could take you." She offered a gentle smile. "I'll break the pok- the sphere tenura, if you want to be free," she admitted, "but you won't have to go back there."

The Ponyta stared at her for a long time, gazing at her as his thoughts flickering through his gaze. Finally, he stepped forward, letting the tips of her fingers brush against the soft felt on his nose. Tuesday released a sigh as she felt the fur beneath her fingers, and the Ponyta snorted lightly in response.

"You will care for me?" he asked, his voice soft and flowing, like the gently-burning flame on a candle, but with the slightest hint of a Roman accent, which suited him.

"Of course," Tuesday whispered.

"Then, I wish to stay with you."

Tuesday smiled. "Thank you. Wraith."

She was gently rubbing his neck when it suddenly occurred to her that she had heard his voice.

That meant that they hadn't returned to the present. Rather, Celebi must have transported them directly from one alternate time to another.

Just as she thought this, there was the crunch of a twig. Wraith snorted loudly, Tempest hissed, and Dante let out a low growl, as Tuesday turned around to find someone pointing a pitchfork at her, three people standing behind the man; one held another pitchfork, one a scythe for cutting hay, and the third a flaming torch. They all regarded her with looks of hatred and fear.

"H-Hello," Tuesday tried.

The man closest to her narrowed his eyes in a heated glare. "Don't play dumb, Demon Summoner!" he snarled. "We heard you talking to your beasts!"

The other man with a pitchfork nodded, while the torch-bearer cried, "Get the stake ready! We've found ourselves another one!"

"Burn her!" the man carrying the scythe cried. "She summons the beasts to do her bidding and speaks to the devil's kin! Burn her! Burn the witch!"

Caught , level 10, male, nicknamed Wraith

This post has been edited by Umbrae Calamitas: May 18 2009, 12:27 AM

[Master Houndoom]

When Jaima woke, it was to the cry of "Witch!", which was, in his mental review of things, nothing that should have been in his dream. His dream had been filled with... well, never mind what his dream was filled with, he IS, after all, a teenage boy and is wont to dream of girls from time to time. It's not embarrassing, only alarming in that when one goes in to kiss a girl, however nameless and faceless she may be, to suddenly have her face contort and scream, "Witch!" in a man's voice.

To this, Jaima woke up, alone, but with the pokéballs strapped securely to his chest by way of the bandolier he'd purchased during his journey. He was not worried about his pokémon at the moment however, but about his recent travelling companion, Tuesday Berdison.

She was nowhere to be seen, and, still, in the background, cries of "witch" sounded, like the pealing of bells. Jaima looked to the sky.

"Ooohh, boy."

* * * * *

Jaima had spotted the crowd rather easily after the rude awakening. Somehow, cooler heads prevailed and Tuesday, who, as Jaima feared, had indeed been the one being proclaimed a witch, was carted off to the center of town. As Jaima followed, he caught snippets of conversations from the shops and nearby houses.

"You assured me when I bought that chatot, not half an hour ago, that the reason he was so quiet was that he was tired and shagged out from a prolonged squawk!"

"Oh, well... 'e's probably pining for the fjords..."

Jaima had to roll his eyes at that one. The customer's resulting cry faded as he moved on.

"You had a room? Luxury! We had to live in corridor!"

"We would have dreamed of a corridor! We had to live in a ditch in middle of road!"

"I always dreamed of having a road..."

Jaima finally caught sight of Tuesday and hid behind a porch, which had been abandoned by the owners of the house it was attached to to watch the spectacle. Fortunately, they had allowed Tuesday to recall her pokémon without a fuss, it seemed, because she held a hand protectively over her belt. Unfortunately, they had also fashioned a crude nose and stuck it on her face, and taken a peaked hat and put it on her head, like a witch's hat. Jaima rubbed the bridge of his nose, then quietly released his team.

"Be ready, guys, Tuesy's in trouble and I intend to get her out of it, paradox be damned."

Mercury's eyes glowed lightly, and she reeled back. "Monsters," she hissed angrily. When Jaima cocked a curious eyebrow to her, she looked him dead in the eye. "They intend to kill her for, and I quote, 'speaking plainly to the lowly creatures graced to us by the Goddess herself to serve us, man, in our lowly time of need,' unquote."

Jaima looked grim, then blinked. "Huh?"

"They want to kill her for speaking to one of us like a human being."

Jaima looked back at the town, who now had Tuesday on a raised platform, still in her nose and witch hat, looking around nervously, but also a bit impatiently. "Can you tell her we're here, but not to look for us?"

Mercury rolled her eyes. "Trainer Jaima, I'm not slow, you know."

Jaima glanced at her, irritated, muttered something about teenagers, and watched. Finally, the lead man, a man with a scythe, stood up.

"I don't care 'oo 'e says 'e is, I ain't gonner 'ave no witch amongst me chil'ren! I say we BURN 'ER!"

The crowd around him erupted into shouts and cheers, with a third of them protesting, and the man took a nearby torch and brought it to the platform. Around said platform was a stack of kindling, and Jaima grit his teeth.

"Tsunami, can you hit that torch from here?"

Tsunami grinned. "It's how I hunt for flies!" She flicked her tongue, and a stream of water shot out, smacking into the tip of the torch and dousing the flames. The crowd went suddenly silent.

"'Oo did tha'?"

The crowd regarded Tuesday with fear, and the man stepped off the stage, truly frightened. "We'll... we'll just wait f'r 'is 'olyness, th' witch-'unter gen'ral..."

"You have nothing to fear," a high, reedy voice proclaimed. Jaima put his face in his hands when he saw the owner, who made his way to the clearing in the crowd. He was dressed in colonial type dress, matching the times, but his weight strained the buttons.

It was the time thief, and Jaima was getting tired of seeing him. "The Witch-Hunter General has arrived."

[Umbrae Calamitas]

Tuesday was not happy.

The inside of this stupid nose they had stuck on her face smelled funny, and she had to sneeze.

She was really getting tired of hearing people call her a witch. She understood the whole Littleroot Witch Trial time period was full of this, but... well, she'd never expected to be thrown right into one. And frankly, she was a little tired of this.

"The Witch-Hunter General has arrived."

Oh, great, she thought with a truckload of sarcasm. Why did I not expect this from the start?

And truthfully, Tuesday found this all far too pathetic to truly be scared. She supposed she might actually be in shock and that the true fear for her situation would attack when things had calmed down, but at the moment, she found herself almost laughing at the effort the thief was going through to try and get rid of them. Accusing her of being a witch? Really?

"So, you have found her," the thief said, stepping up on the platform. He eyed Tuesday critically. "Hmm..." He waved his hand dismissively. "Burn her."

A cheer went up among the crowd, but for about a third, whom cried out in protest. A particularly vocal man cried out above the noise, "How do we know she's a witch?"

"She looks like 'un!" someone else cried in answer.

""Ye', bu' we'en dress'd 'er up like tha'," someone else said.

"She turn'd me inta a Treecko!"

They all turned to look at him, the person next to him muttering incredulously, "A Treecko?"

The man shrugged, looking away. "I got bett'a."

"All right, all right, settle down," the thief said, waving his hands for silence. "Let's try to decide whether or not she's a witch."

Tuesday rolled her eyes. "Work it in your favor, eh, General?"

He gave her a sideways smirk, out of view of everyone else, before turning back to the crowd. "So tell me, what does a witch do in water?"

"She drowns if she doesn't swim," Tuesday muttered so only the thief could hear.

"Umm..."

"Er..."

"Ahh... she floats!"

"Yes, yes she floats!

"And what else floats?" the thief asked.

"Shit floats," Tuesday muttered, "and since you're full of it, you won't even have to swim."

The thief ignored her and watched as the crowd threw out answers.

"Rocks!"

"Wood!"

"A cork!

"Very tiny rocks!"

Tuesday saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned her head slightly to see Jaima sneak from the bushes and into the larger crowd. "A Psyduck!" his familiar voice cried.

The man must have seen Jaima, as well, for his eyes had grown wide. If he was even half as perceptive as Tuesday, he would have seen Mercury the Kirlia hovering just behind Jaima, Grondir the Bulbasaur moving among his feet, and Shadow the Riolu jumping like a shadow from one place to another, merely a will away from being on the thief.

Tuesday felt the smile grow across her face. She supposed it was rather sadistic of her. Human nature, maybe, to exhibit such schadenfreude, but she gained some semblance of happiness from the thief's worry. Consider the circumstances, she thought that she was permitted this slip in civility.

"Yes... a psyduck," the thief stammered, "... so... if she weighs less than a psyduck, then..?

"The psyduck will need to go on a diet," Tuesday muttered.

"Ummm..."

"Errr..."

"Aah.. She's a witch!"

"A witch!"

"Exactly!" the thief cried, sounding as though he had succeeded at something, though Tuesday didn't know what he thought he had accomplished. She was small for her age, yes, but there was no way she weighed less than a psyduck.

"Jerry's th' psyduck farma!" someone cried. "She weigh less th'n a psyduck, Jer?"

The man called Jerry stepped forward, up onto the platform, and the thief stepped back. Tuesday grinned, aware that the thief was beginning to realize that he had already lost. She did scowl a bit, when the man grabbed her around the middle and picked her up, but she refrained from kicking him just barely. She did want out of this. She was just highly uncomfortable at the moment.

"What'cha say, Jer?"

Jerry set Tuesday back down after holding her for a moment, and she released a breath when her feet touched the ground again. "She'n weighs a lot more th'n a psyduck," Jerry admitted, stepping off the stage. "Ain't no way she's a witch."

"So... we can't burn 'er?" someone asked.

"She ain't no witch," someone else said, "so we can't burn 'er."

The thief was opening and closing his mouth as someone cut the ropes that bound Tuesday. She gave a grin at the thief and hopped down from the platform, where she quickly met up with Jaima. She couldn't help herself but to hug him, to thank him for being there and just making her feel safer with his presence. Like an older brother.

"So," she asked, looking up at him, "what now?"

This post has been edited by Umbrae Calamitas: May 26 2009, 11:14 PM

[Master Houndoom]

"Now, Tuesy, we get into a little thing I like to call... commupance." He smiled down at her, a smile that turned all at once evil and mischievous. With a flourish he'd never before shown outside of the play he'd been in in the third grade, where he was Benny Buneary running from Farmer Johnson, he called out in a loud voice, "People of Littleroot! You have been... deceived!"

The crowd blinked at him. The thief blinked at him. Tuesday blinked at him. He turned around and Grondir blinked at him.

Mercury got it, and grinned. Then blinked at him. She didn't want to be left out.

He turned, smirking. "This man, who you have seen as a savior, a saint, for whom you have killed many, many young girls and women-"

"We', actua'y, there's on'y been the one..."

"There was a girl last week, Norbert."

"Aye, there was, but worst happened t' her was she wet her knickers."

"Oh, righ'. Scared th' poor lass righ' off t' magic, we did..."

Jaima silenced the talking group with a stony glare. "As I was saying, this man, for whom many have wet their knickers, is himself what he claims to catch!" He pointed at the thief, who, despite the fact that tables, tides, and heads were turning against him, was utterly confused. "He has immersed himself in the practice of prestidigitation and eldritch chicanery!"

The entire crowd, as one, looked at Jaima in utter confusion. Jaima rolled his eyes.

"'E's a witch!"

"WIIIIIITCH!" The crowd reached for the man, who spun, screaming, in place. Finally, one man, a large, stately man, climbed up on the stage.

"WAIT!" He had to shout several times before the crowd's din came to a low, muffled sursuration. "We nearly doomed a young girl to death, and though this man eats us from house and home, steals our finest goods and clothing in 'payment', and feels up our wives and daughters when he thinks we're not looking,"

"That's not true," shouted the thief, but no one paid attention. "OK, the part about the wives isn't true..."

"We should not make the same assumptions he did, lest we become like him." The town was rapt on the new speaker, who, to be fair, spoke more eloquently than any of them (and that was why he was mayor). He pointed at the man, and said, in a stately voice, "Jerry... the weighing!"

What? No one said he was smarter, he simply spoke better.

Jerry the farmer looked dubiously at the Mayor, but a nod from Jaima convinced him to at least try it. Rubbing his hands together, a look of determination came over Jerry's face. The thief protested, "Now see here..!"

"What've you got to lose, 'Witch-Hunter General'? Surely you weigh less than a psyduck..?" Jaima's smirk was audible, and even Tuesday, thus far confused, had to at least smile. She did more than smile, but that would have been the least.

Jerry put his arms around the Thief's waist and, with a mighty heave, pulled. And promptly fell on his back, the man in his arms much, much lighter than he'd expected.

"'Zounds, 'e's lighter'n any psyduck I've raised!"

The crowd was on him like an angry vigaroth. The screams were horrible, but nothing compared to the laughter of Jaima and Tuesday. When the Thief emerged, his clothing was in tatters, and his face was red. He panted, then pointed his chubby finger at Jaima and Tuesday.

"You've interfered with me for the LAST TIME!! I'll get you if it's the last thing I do!!" Reaching into his only remaining pocket, he pulled out an object, clenched his eyes shut, and disappeared in a flash of light.

The crowd, confused, turned to Jaima and Tuesday, and screamed.

"Whoops..."

Jaima turned to see Mercury, floating behind him, her eyes still glowing from having lifted the thief enough to make him feel as light as a psyduck. A woman in the crowd screamed. "It's got 'orns, like a devil, it does!" and the scythes and pitchforks came out.

"Aw, crap."

"You said it."

Mercury lit up, flames wreathing her body. As they watched, her eyes, glowing a light blue, turned red and shot beams from them. She held out a paw. "FOOLISH MORTALS," she screamed, both in the heads of everyone around and audibly. "YOU THINK TO CAPTURE ME? YOU THINK TO DEFEAT ME? TREMBLE BEFORE MY FIERY WRATH!" Her hand, held out as if it could be clenched into a fist, burst into sparking green flames. "COWER BEFORE MY MAGNIFICENCE!!" Her horns grew, sharp and long, and her mouth filled with jagged teeth. "FLEE BEFORE THE RADIANCE OF MY--"

The town scattered, each of them fleeing past houses, into alleys, up stairs, anywhere to get away from the pokéwitch.

As soon as they were gon, the lights and sounds and imagery faded. "Illusion."

"Oh, she's going to be impossible to live with now..."

[Umbrae Calamitas]

Tuesday was still laughing when Celebi appeared. The small green insect-faerie pokemon was giggling, herself, and apparently knew well what had just occurred. Tuesday supposed that shouldn't surprise her. Celebi wasn't bound by time like humans. She wondered, vaguely, if the pokemon would age or if she, like the elves in Rivendell, was immortal.

She thought it was a bit too personal to ask, so she remained silent but for her moments of laughter.

"Where are we headed next, Celebi?" Jaima asked, trying to ignore Mercury, who was still going on about her genius.

Tuesday thought she saw something in Celebi's eyes, a flicker of some dark emotion that she couldn't quite name. The pokemon blinked her large eyes, however, and the strange shine was gone, making Tuesday wonder if it had been there from the start.

Somehow, she knew it had been, no matter what current sight offered. She had no way of knowing what the flicker had been, however, or its meaning, so Tuesday had no choice but to let it go.

She wouldn't realize until later that Celebi had wanted desperately to warn them of what was to come, but where she was not bound by time, she was bound by an oath.

It was an oath to not speak of that which she knew. And for her bearing it, she held the same name that Tuesday was given by her brother and those who knew her by her silence.

"I will be taking you back to the present, Tuesday," Celebi said softly.

"Wait!" Tuesday said, alarmed. "Just me? What about Jaima?"

That flicker entered Celebi's eyes again, but this time she didn't blink it away. She looked at Jaima, sorrow rolling off of her like heat. "I'm afraid you won't be coming with us, Jaima." She looked down. "I'm afraid there's nothing that I can do for you now."

"What do you-"

But Jaima's question was abruptly cut off when he vanished.

He did not merely vanish from sight, but from thought, and mind, and memory.

That sorrow deepened, as though the sands of her emotional ocean fell away, heightening the drop-off. She stared at the place where Jaima had stood, tears hanging from her eyes like glittering crystal chandeliers. She shook her head softly and whispered forlornly, "Oh, Jaima..."

Tuesday looked up at Celebi with a confused expression on her face.

"Who's Jaima?"

[Master Houndoom]

Six Years Ago

The man was breathing heavily, hiding in the bushes outside the small, dome shaped home. His fist clenched and unclenched in unreleased anger. The humiliation he'd suffered... he hadn't felt that way since he'd been 8, and the bullies had set their pokémon on him. The same feelings had washed over him in old Littleroot... the clawing, the overwhelming fear... he'd wet himself! It was humiliating!

So he paused in his quest. Getting the most powerful pokémon in history could wait... in fact, if this worked, he wouldn't be hindered anymore. The tall jerk kid and his little sidekick wouldn't travel through time anymore and be there to stop him every... single... time...

Oh... he'd TRIED to be subtle! He'd tried stopping people from learning how to catch pokémon, just until he could get his team. But no... he'd shown up, and her, and they stopped him, and somehow survived the Charizard! So he tried working with history... the ponyta would have died anyway... why not claim it? It was a shiny, and it was strong... but no, not only did they interfere again, but the little brat got HIS ponyta, HIS! And then... and then... all he'd wanted was a chansey that had belonged to a witch... he'd take it, she'd die, as history said she did, and he could heal his team at will... he could be famous... he could be a master... that would show them, wouldn't it..? And there was the girl, and he could get HIS ponyta after all...

But no. No, the tall... annoying... asshole kid had shown up, and not only stopped him from getting what was his, but humiliated him!

So he'd tracked him. No interfering, not for a while, but he saw a dozen ways the kid could be taken out before he met the girl. Oh, he'd tried to do it peacefully, too, but the stupid bird that carried mail was too stupidly smart! No, this way was best. He had watched, and waited, and found out what the most important thing was...

The door opened, and a ten year old boy, wavy blonde hair unkempt, turned to his mother. "I'm goin', mom! When I come back, I'm gonna have the awesomest fire type in the whole world!"

"We wanna go too," came a strident call, and a little girl came running up. She had green hair, and the girl who walked up behind her, sedately, was a carbon copy, except with cyan hair.

"Ya can't go, yer not old enough," the blonde boy said, annoyed. He rolled his eyes, and his mother chuckled.

"He should be nicer about it, Mariko, but Jaima's right. You have to wait for a while." When the little girl teared up, the mother knelt and looked her in the eye. "I bet Jaima will let you play with his pokémon before he leaves. Won't you?"

The boy looked rebellious, but a warning look from his mother stopped his tirade. He huffed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, 'cept I won't be GETTING one unless I GO..."

The green haired girl hugged the boy, and the cyan girl joined in. He tensed, then smiled, just a little, before putting on a scowl. "OK, OK, get off!" He rubbed both their heads. "See you guys soon, I gotta go find Meiko!"

He dashed away, and the large man followed.

* * * * *

"Well, I'm gonna get a fire type, then we'll see!"

"Haha! Fire is weak to waaater," the red headed girl cooed, pushing Jaima in the arm.

"Yeah, well mine'll be so strong, it'll knock out water types with one shot! Even though it's not very effective..."

The man stepped out of the shadows, and both children stopped. Jaima scowled. "Sorry, mister, but we're in a hurry."

"Are you Jaima?" The man looked... weird. He was red faced, and trying to look scared, but he just looked eager... eeeww..

"Don't tell him your name, Jaima," the girl cried, then slapped her hands over her mouth. Jaima rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, so what?"

"Your dad sent me," he said. "He wants you to come to the pokécenter he's working at."

"Aw, man!" Jaima slumped. "I was s'posed to get my pokémon today!"

The large man smirked. "OK, I'm going to tell you a secret... he's got a charmander for you." He smiled. "They're the best fire type ever."

"A CHARMANDER?!" Jaima gaped, then turned to Meiko. "I gotta go! If this guy's wrong, I'll try to make it to the lab!"

"Jaima, don'-" But it was too late. He NEVER listened to her when he was excited. Meiko glared at the man, who smirked and walked away.

Two hours later, while she was admiring her totodile, The professor came up to her. His face was sad and drawn. "Meiko..? Did you know Jaima Kuonji?"

She looked up, suddenly, inexplicably scared. "I... I know him, sir..."

The professor knelt down. "Meiko... I... I just got some bad news. The pokécenter they were building in New Bark town.. it's..." He closed his eyes. "It collapsed. Several workers were killed, and... and..."

Meiko looked, the words sinking in. Tears started rolling down her cheeks. "Is Jaima ok, professor..?"

"Meiko, Jaima was killed."

* * * * *

Dialga watched as the time stream rippled and flowed, snapping down the timeline. The past was, usually, immutable. Even with smaller changes, the stream fixed itself, but premature death, despite being one person in a vast multitude of people through history, was never a small change. The future was liquid, yes, but the past was set in stone, so it's major changes were more like breaking a bone that had set wrong than stirring a liquid.

And so he watched, paying careful attention to the Kuonji's. He watched as a mother sank into depression deeper than she would have, with no son to try to keep the semblance of normality in the house, and to snap her out of her self-despair when it became too hard to deal with for a ten year old. He watched sisters be carted to foster care and separated when they were adopted by different families. He watched a shinx die alone in a strange forest, a ralts captured by a greedy huntress for her color alone, a mudkip die in an ooze, heard too late by the companions travelling there.

Companions that had recently been set upon and nearly killed by a group of ghosts lead by a vulpix.

In the future, in the tendrils of what could be, several possibilities simply died off, while a few newer ones started.

And a paradox formed. It wasn't a large one, and he managed to smooth it... but if the man could cause a paradox this way, he would cause a worse one later. Because, even though the boy and his companion were not important in the present, they could, and likely would, lead to greater important things, life, world, time changing things, later... he would have to watch. Losing one had affected more than he'd expected.

Losing both..? For the first time, Dialga felt fear.

[Umbrae Calamitas]

"Hey, Celebi, what's the matter?" Tuesday asked, concerned. The little faerie pokemon had succumbed to quiet tears, sitting on the ground with her wings and antennae drooping. Tuesday crouched near the depressed little pokemon, with no idea what to do.

"I've failed, I've failed," Celebi sobbed gently. She shook her head and buried her face in her hands.

Tuesday sat down on the ground, her hands folded in her lap. She didn't seem to be able to do anything to comfort Celebi, so it looked as though she would simply have to wait for the little pokemon to wade through her river and tears and gather her composure. She was worried, though, and not only for Celebi's state of mind (she still didn't understand what had made the pokemon so sad in the first place). The thief was still out there, and Tuesday didn't know what time period he would have graced himself with now.

Tuesday fingered the pokeballs on her belt. She hadn't had much time to interact with Wraith, yet, since she had been given him by the emperor. She was glad that... Tuesday frowned. Wait... Why had she been given Wraith again? She had been named a slave to the emperor, and the thief was the emperor's advisor. Someone, though... someone was a Gladiator.

A boy. A boy with a long blonde braid and six pokemon. A Cyndaquil. She had carried the Cyndaquil for a time. Ember... Ember was the Cyndaquil's name.

But who was the boy?

Tuesday tilted her head to the side as she thought. "Celebi... was I... was there someone else with me?"

Celebi looked up quickly, tear streaks still marring her face. "You remember him?"

Tuesday wasn't looking at Celebi, but frowning at the grass. "I... sort of. A boy. A nice boy. Kind of like... he was like Brone, in a way. My brother." She met Celebi's eyes. "Who is he?"

"His name was Jaima," Celebi answered quietly.

"Was?" Tuesday asked in a whisper.

Celebi nodded, her expression solemn. "He does not exist anymore, because of the interference of the man who stole the Time Crystal." Tuesday's face became expressionless. "He went back in time and interfered in a part of the past, resulting in Jaima's death."

Tuesday's face remained expressionless, as she tried to hold back her initial emotional reaction. She wasn't sure if she was more saddened by the events, or angered that the thief had interfered where no one had a right to. Instead of falling prey to either of these emotions, however, she asked, "Can't I go back and change it?"

Celebi gave her a surprised look. "I... you'd want to do that?"

"Well, this wasn't supposed to happen," Tuesday replied, "and this... Jaima. He was my friend, right?" She nodded. "He must have been my friend, if we were traveling together. And I bet, if our positions were reversed, he'd come save me." She nodded more firmly this time. "Yes. Celebi, can you send me back there, so I can stop him?"

Celebi looked unsure for a moment. "I can," she admitted, "but there is something you need to understand." Tuesday cocked her head to the side. "Jaima's father died in the collapse of the Pokemon Centre, as well. Unlike Jaima, however, he was meant to." Tuesday moved to object, but Celebi shook her head. "To save him, even if it seems wrong, would be like taking out the main support beam on a building. Who Jaima is... was... was built around the death of his father. As much as it hurt him them, he is stronger now because of it. His family is stronger. He wouldn't be the same person, otherwise, and you probably wouldn't have met him."

"But..."

"No, Tuesday."

"I don't care if I don't meet him, if I could help him!"

"You can't," Celebi said, and her voice was firmer now than Tuesday had ever heard it. "What must happen, must happen. Que cera, cera. It was meant to be, and so you cannot change it. If you do, you risk not only unraveling the time stream, but becoming the same as the thief. Even if your intentions are well, the past it set." She shook her head. "You just have to save Jaima. I can only let you go back if you promise to do only that. Do you promise?"

Tuesday really wanted to argue. She desperately wanted to demand that the past be changed.

But Celebi was a pokemon, not a god, and she was still bound by the laws of Fate. Tuesday sighed and nodded. "I promise."

"Good," Celebi replied. She rested a gentle paw in the centre of Tuesday's forehead. "Be careful," she said softly. She smiled. "And good luck."

And with that, there was a white flash of light around Tuesday that blinded her from her every surrounding.

When she opened her eyes again, she didn't recognize where she was.

[Master Houndoom]

Let's review how time works, children, said arceus to his Firstborne. They came of all sizes, and scattered about the galaxy, and looked like many creatures that had roamed before. They were large and controlled the large aspects; space, time, land, sea, air. They were small and controlled the small aspects; emotions, thoughts, the seasons. Some had made others, to watch over the elements in the sky and on the land. Some simply were, travelling or sleeping. Some hated each other, but all loved their Father, Arceus.

Time, unlike most things, has three states. We know them as the past, the present and the future, but it's more than that. For simplicity, let us simply go with what we know. Time in the future is like many strands, like the tentacles of a tentacruel, writhing and going in every which way.

(Before you ask, and I know you will, because I did, he knew there would be tentacruels, and pikachis, and digletts, and everything. He even knows what will be discovered far from now...)

When time from the present flows back to the past... well, that's like rocks in a stream. The present, and the people in it, choose, without knowing, how time will flow. Each choice lets a strand of the future fall away and wither, or change to accomodate. Each choice is then frozen as the moment passes, becoming the past, and that's what's important.

The future is hard to go to, because, when you decide to go there, you are looking from the present... from the point where choices are made to the point where there are many to choose from. The past is easier, but more dangerous; it is set, the past, and changing it causes dangerous ripples, like plucking a string. It is best not to tamper with either, but I created you, and I know at least two of you long to see what others cannot. After all, I made you that way.

You may go now.

This is what Dialga remembered, and this is what Dialga feared, but he had to trust the small one while he made sure Time did not unravel. Sending the girl back could be more disasterous... but it could be exactly the right thing. The choice was made, and all he could do was watch, and pray to Father that it worked out.

[Umbrae Calamitas]

New Bark Town didn't look a great deal different from Pallet Town, except that the houses seemed a bit more modern. Pallet Town was... her dad had always called it "old school." Apparently, New Bark Town is what he would have referred to as "new school." Good ol' dad. Never made a bit of sense.

How in the world am I supposed to find Jaima? Tuesday wondered, having no idea when she was, exactly, much less where she would find the boy that... well, wouldn't be older than her now.

"Right... so I'll be the older sibling, won't I?" she asked.

"Your dad sent me," he said. "He wants you to come to the pokécenter he's working at."

"Huh?" Tuesday tilted her head to the side at the distant voice. She knew that voice, and wasn't happy to hear it.

So Celebi had sent her back just as the thief had begun his interference into the past. Right. That made sense, she supposed.

"Aw, man!" She heard the voice of a younger boy crying out in disappointment. It sounded familiar, yet different. "I was s'posed to get my pokémon today!" Vaguely, Tuesday considered how her memory of Jaima was... better here. Perhaps it was because he hadn't yet been... killed, in this specific timeline. Or maybe it was just because she was here, or because Celebi was trying to help her remember. Whatever the reason, she remembered more clearly their adventures than she had moments ago, when she'd been speaking with Celebi. Things were still fuzzy, though, and she didn't like it. She wanted Jaima back, so she could remember.

"Okay, I'm going to tell you a secret," the thief continued in his annoying voice, as Tuesday moved closer, "he's got a charmander for you. They're the best fire type ever."

"A CHARMANDER?!" Tuesday reached a large pine tree and peered around it in time to see a small kid with wild blonde hair gaping at the whale lying to his face. She blinked. The kid was cute in that "you would make an adorable little brother so long as you didn't embarrass me too bad" kind of way. Huh.

The kid, obviously Jaima, turned to his friend. "I gotta go! If this guy's wrong, I'll try to make it to the lab!"

If he's wrong? Tuesday wondered. Oh, you sick, sick man, playing on a child's desires. She shook her head wildly, blonde hair flying. That sounded so wrong, and I'm twelve!

The boy's - Jaima's - friend tried to tell him not to go, which would have been the smart thing to do: avoid the evil bad man at all costs. But he was a child and he was excited, and this world was supposed to be safe.

Yeah. Right.

Swallowing, Tuesday swiftly ran her options through her head. She could follow Jaima to the pokemon centre and somehow keep him from being inside when it... collapsed... with his father still inside. That didn't sound like a particularly good plan. So she had a bit of a Messiah-complex, but she would feel compelled to save the man, despite her promise and Celebi's warning. Also... she didn't think that Jaima, who would already have to suffer the death of his father, should have to be present when he died.

Or be forced to travel with the girl who could have stopped it, but didn't. So maybe she was being selfish. As aforementioned, she was twelve. Twelve year old girls were permitted a little selfishness, right? Right?

Quickly scanning the other possibilities, she decided on one that involved her interacting with Jaima as little as possible. In theory. That was probably the best.

Grabbing the first pokeball on her belt, she drew strength from the familiar warmth of life and fire, before calling Dante forth. The red-orange dragon looked at her expectantly, and Tuesday knelt on the ground, explaining her plan. "Look, Dante," she said, "we need to make sure that little Jaima doesn't get hurt, okay?" Dante nodded. "I need you to distract him. He likes pokemon, which is a given, and I think he's pretty fond of Charmander, too." She flashed him a grin. "Think you can handle a ten year old?"

Dante gave her a withering look at rolled his eyes, before ambling off. "Thought so," she muttered affectionately.

That done, she turned back to see the smirking thief walking off. If he caught on that Dante was keeping Jaima preoccupied, he would no doubt try to finish the kid off himself. That meant that while Dante was distracting Jaima, Tuesday would have to play interference with the thief.

She gave herself a rather satisfied smirk. She was pretty talented when it came to being annoying. Just ask anyone who didn't like literature.

~*~

"Char! Char!"

Dante wandered into Jaima's view, blinking his big blue eyes and waving his tail, making the flame dance. He offered up one of his cutest expressions and was duly rewarded with a gigantic grin and a cry of, "A CHARMANDER!"

And then he was promptly tackled.

~*~

The thief was walking innocently through New Bark Town (well, as innocently as was possible, considering that he was conspiring to kill a ten-year-old boy who would later thwart his attempts to rule the world), when he was abruptly hit in the back of the head with a rock.

"What the-" He turned to see that damnable girl standing in all her four foot glory, tossing a second rock in her right hand, with that damn Pikachu sitting on her left shoulder, and the freaking shiny Ponyta standing on her right side. She was giving him something of a snide look, which merely made his blood boil. Then, she opened her mouth.

He'd never been so unhappy to see someone do that before in his life.

"Misfortunes one can endure--they come from outside, they are accidents. But to suffer for one's own faults--ah!--there is the sting of life."(1) The girl shook her head sadly, tsking quietly. "Now, tell me, dear sir, what could have possibly happened in your life to warrant such hatred of the world?"

"That's none of your business!" he yelled, angry that she had even considered hinting at his past.

"All things are ready, if our minds be so,"(2) she said with a sophisticated air, before shaking her head. "Clearly, you're not ready to face the darkness of your own heart."

"SHUT UP!" He chucked a rock in her direction, but missed wildly. She didn't even have to dodge, and hardly looked concerned. In fact, she looked like she was having fun.

". . . 'tis misfortune that awakens ingenuity, or fortitude, or endurance, in hearts where these qualities had never come to life but for the circumstance which gave them a being,"(3) she said, in a manner that told how she was quoting something. Was everything she was saying a quote? How much did this kid read? "But you use for talents for an unworthy purpose. 'tis a waste."

"I'll tell you what's a waste!" he snarled. "Damn kids like you! Interfering where you have no place! You're useless baggage that does nothing but get in the way!"

"No one is useless in this world who lightens the burden of it for any one else,"(4) she stated with conviction. "You'd know this if you cared for anyone but yourself."

"No one else is worth my time, brat! I'm the most important person to me! The only one that matters! I don't need anyone else!"

"Unwelcome truths are not popular,"(5) she muttered, sounding as though his statements had brought her some measure of annoyance. If he knew anything of her past, he would have realized that he sounded a great deal like some of the kids who had bullied her as a child. " . . . the chief proof of man's real greatness lies in his perception of his own smallness.(6) You have a decidedly large ego, and in comparison to your bitter narcissism, are of little consequence."

"I'll do what I damn well please and think what I damn well want!" he snapped. "No brat is going to tell me that I'm not worth anything! This has to be done! You're ruining everything and you wouldn't take the hint before, so this is the way it has to be."

"How quick come the reasons for approving what we like,"(7) Tuesday replied.

"You're not going to make me change it!" the man snapped. "Your brother is going to die, and if that doesn't stop you, then I will."

"Indeed," Tuesday said. "So you intend to continue trying to foil us, battling eternity, attempting to rule the world. Face it - you're never going to win. We won't let you."

"You can't stop me!" he snapped. "I bear the Time Crystal! I control Time itself!"

"The end crowns all; and that old common arbitrator, Time, will one day end it."(8) She shook her head. "You may hold the crystal, but you no more control Time than you can forbid the sun from rising, the rain from falling, life from being. What do you hope to gain from bearing that crystal?"

"I will have what should have always been mine! I will be all-powerful!"

"Men and women, empires and cities, thrones, principalities, and powers, mountains, rivers, and unfathomed seas, worlds, spaces, and universes, all have their day, and all must go.(9) What you deserved, you would have, eventually.
Adopt the pace of nature; her secret is patience."(10)

"I don't want to wait!" he snarled. "I'm sick of waiting, of being laughed at!" He pointed an accusing finger at her. "You're just like them. Think you know everything. Think you're all that. Well, I'll prove you wrong. I'm going to be the most powerful man in the world. Then you'll respect me! Then they'll all have to respect me!"

"Respect is earned, not bought," she retorted, "and unthinking respect for authority is the greatest enemy of truth.(11) You don't want respect. You want a status of godliness, which is not yours to take."

"No?" he asked, fingering the crystal that hung on a chain around his neck. "We'll just see about that. You may think you're smart, brat, but you're more foolish than you realize. While you've been standing here quoting Shakespeare-"

"I hope you don't think that was all Shakespeare."

He ignored her. "-you could have been saving your friend." He looked at his watch. "Unfortunately for you, your stupidity has cost you his life. By now, the pokemon centre would have collapsed, and he will have died with his father in the rubble." He laughed. "And I'm not going back in time to fix it, because I don't have to!"

"Cruelty and fear shake hands together,"(12) Tuesday supplied. "You shouldn't be so heartless. Karma will be at your throat one day."

"Worry not for me, child," he snapped. "You'll bow to me soon enough."

Tuesday smiled grimly. "I honor no false gods." She waved her hand. "Go where you will. We'll follow soon enough."

He gave her a satisfied smirk. "Denial. Your brother is dead. If you follow me, you will die, too."

She smiled. "We shall see."

He gave her a snide look, before there was a bright flash of light, and he was gone. Into time.

Tuesday sighed. "Father Time is not always a hard parent, and, though he tarries for none of his children, often lays his hand lightly upon those who have used him well.(13) I fear he will destroy you for your ignorance, and while I should not care... Duty sits upon my shoulders like a fiendish friend, and I feel I must." She closed her eyes. "I must."

Something was... changing, she knew. Maybe she was simply tired of the running after the thief constantly, but she felt... older. Burdened. As though there was a weight on her shoulders; one that was separate from the duty that came with her innate hero-complex. It was as though Time sat heavily upon her, as well, and while she was young, she was also old.

"And come he slow, or come he fast... It is but Death who comes at last.(14) In time. In time." Tuesday smiled grimly. It made sense, of course. They were travelers through time, not wholly bound by time, but neither were they completely disconnected from it. They had jumped from the far, far distant past, to the recent past, to the present, various times. They had lived more lives than others could ever hope to boast, but for the Immortals and those who remembered their lives that came before. Of course, their souls being bound even in the slightest to the whims of Temporis, they would be bound by the nature of life and its limitations across the ages.

"So fickle, life," she mused. "And we have so little left, if we don't end this swiftly." She turned and headed back to where she had last seen Dante. Wraith trotted at her side, Tempest sitting on her shoulder, both looking at her in concern, as Tuesday considered the implications of her realizations. They couldn't jump much more, before Time betrayed them, and destroyed them, as it eventually took everything.

They were protected by Celebi to some extent, however, unlike the thief. His direct connection to the power of Time, without the buffer that Celebi offered them, would destroy him swiftly. They needed to stop him. As much as Tuesday didn't like him, she didn't like the idea of being the reason someone died, even indirectly.

She stepped around a tree, to see Dante being studied in earnest by an excited ten-year-old. The dragon pokemon looked up happily when she approached.

"Dante," she said softly in greeting, "I see you've made a friend."

The boy - Jaima - looked up. "Oh. Is he your pokemon?"

"He is my friend," Tuesday replied, crouching down by the boy. She felt the wanting of tears, knowing what little Jaima would face when he went home. "Look, kiddo, you need to get to the pokemon lab and get your pokemon."

"I'm supposed to meet my dad," he said. "He's waiting for me at the pokemon centre."

Tuesday bit her lip in thought, and to keep herself from crying. She coughed lightly. "Well, I talked to you dad, kiddo," she said softly, "and you're supposed to go to the lab to meet with the professor and get yourself a fire pokemon." She smiled at his surprised look. "And you're supposed to take her home and care for her, love her, and protect her, so she'll know how to love and protect." She blinked swiftly. "And you're supposed to know that your dad loves you, very much."

Jaima grinned. "I know! I better get to the pokemon lab, before all of the pokemon are gone!" He stood up and took off, but Tuesday called him back. He stopped, looking at her funny. "How do you know my name?"

Tuesday smiled beyond the shine of tears. "A little faerie told me," she said. "Do me a favor, Jaima?"

"Sure!" he said.

"Smile," she supplied simply.

Jaima blinked, then looked around for someone taking a picture of him, not understanding what this strange girl knew. When he looked back to ask her what she meant, she was gone.

Jaima stared at the spot where the weird girl had been, with a Charmander, a Pikachu, and a Ponyta that looked dark and kind of scary, except that it had kind eyes. He blinked for a moment, confused, before remembering about getting his own pokemon.

With that, he took off for Professor Elm's lab.

For any who are interested (and to give credit where credit is due):

1) Lady Windermere's Fan, by Oscar Wilde
2) Henry V, by William Shakespeare
3) The History of Henry Esmond, by William Makepeace Thackeray
4) Our Mutual Friend, by Charles Dickens
5) The Valley of Fear, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
6) The Sign of the Four, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
7) Persuasion, by Jane Austen
8) Troilus and Cressida, by William Shakespeare
9) Allan Quatermain, by H. Rider Haggard
10) Ralph Waldo Emerson
11) Albert Einstein
12) Honore de Balzac
13) Barnaby Rudge, by Charles Dickens
14) Marmion, by Sir Walter Scott

Please forgive me if you found this tedious. I have an obsession with quotes and, therein, so does Tuesday. This permitted me a chance to show off my obsession and her genius. At any rate, I hope it turned out reasonably well.

[Master Houndoom]

When Jaima awoke, he had tears in his eyes. He'd had the dream again. The same dream he'd had for months after his father died. He'd thought he was over the guilt, but something had brought it back fresh again. Only it was different somehow. More true to life.

For one thing, he'd forgotten about the fat man who'd tried to send him to the pokécenter, and the girl who's Charmander he'd met. The Charmander was a big reason why he'd picked Ember. That and the girl's words to pick a fire type and raise it well.

He looked over at Tuesday, sleeping with her knees up and her forehead resting on them, and a wave of affection rolled over him. He didn't feel like he'd gotten a decent night's sleep in ages. In fact, he felt... older. Wiser. Tired. He wondered, briefly, if she felt the same.

As if awakening from a nightmare, Tuesday's head snapped up, eyes wide, but still with large purplish bags underneath them. Her wide eyes fell on Jaima, who smiled wearily at her, and they began to fill with tears. She turned away swiftly, sniffling.

The look on her face, worn but kind, just before she turned, hit Jaima like a punch to the stomach. Despite his mind's refusal to acknowledge it, the assumption he immediately jumped to made the most sense. "It was you," he whispered, his voice low in wonder. Tuesday's shoulders tightened, but she nodded.

Jaima turned the other way, pressing his back to Tuesday's. "You could have saved my father," he said. It wasn't an accusation, but he was not surprised when Tuesday tensed against him.

"Sh-she told me not to." There was a pause, and when she resumed speaking, her voice was hollow. "She said it would interfere. Th-"

"It's OK, Tuesy," Jaima said slowly. "It's OK."

She turned, wracked with sobs, and hugged Jaima's chest, and he stroked her hair until she stopped crying. "This isn't like you, is it?" he asked when she looked up, halfway between embarrassed and mortified.

"N-not really."

He smiled and wiped a tear from her cheek. "We're tired. Bone tired. Fatigue does things to you. Makes you do stuff you don't usually do." He smiled down at her. "After this is done, we'll rent a couple rooms and sleep for, like, a week, OK?"

"YOU!"

The voice was not Tuesday's, nor Jaima's, and came from a hill to the side of the road. Both looked up and saw a familiar figure, pointing from behind the fence, his hand shaking in rage. He seemed worn down, worse than the two, and Jaima stood up, reaching for his pokéballs, just in case.

"You couldn't just let it go, could you," the man screamed, his voice hoarse and quavering. "You had to keep interfering and interfering and interfering! Well, if I can't get rid of you in the past, I'm going to get rid of you now! Then I'll have time on my side!" He sneered, pulling the lone pokéball from his belt. "Zigzagoon, go!" Instead of pointing to Jaima and Tuesday, he pointed up the hill, where a herd of tauros and miltank roamed, grazing. "Get them! Drive them insane! You can do it!"

The little badger pokémon meandered its way up the hill, striking out to the left, then to the right as rapidly as he could. When he got to the top, his dashing between the legs of the bovine pokémon started to have the intended affect. They began to moan, then the tauros began to stamp. Soon enough, they were running, a single, terrified miltank in the lead, toward the fence. The thief sneered, pulled the loose boards from the fence, and jogged out of the way.

The stampeding cattle pokémon rushed through the hole, straight toward Jaima and Tuesday...

* * * * *

Dialga had never felt this level of anxiety before. As both children died, timelines of possibility melted away, all of them good. In one, a child is not born forty years into the future. That child subsequently does not turn twenty and does not stop an eight year old from playing in the street. That eight year old is killed, and does not grow up to become a great explorer, who does not act to calm the Three Powers of Hoenn, which destroys the entire region.

In another, Brone literally goes insane after Cassandra tells him of his sister's death. After a time, he kills his family, starting with the sister Tuesday hated, and ended up becoming a psychic despot, eliminating free will by psychically lobotomizing every soul on the planet.

In a third, Midori Kuonji goes mad with grief and kills the bearer of the bad news, a young friend of Jaima's named Meiko. The vengeful spirit causes a ringing curse with her grudge, supernaturally killing anyone who dared to enter the Kuonji house.

Deep down, Dialga knew that this was only three of infinite possibilities, and deep down he wondered if two children would have such a harsh impact on time. In the end, the panic, a new emotion, won out. He had caused this by allowing the time gem to be stolen. He had allowed it by involving these two children. It was far too late to change things, at least for him. But a mad plan came to his mind, and he enacted it, ignoring Celebi's sudden cries against it.

He exerted his vast will, his Arceus given power over time, and split Time into two, allowing one to survive in each one.

Celebi's eyes blanked, and she fell to the ground, catatonic. Dialga did not mourn her.

He, too, was driven mad.

But time marched on in double file, and Arceus looked down, and saw that there was still hope.

[Umbrae Calamitas]

Did she really save him, just for him to die.

Tuesday was walking across a meadow, her thoughts meandering drunkenly through her mind. She wondered if she wasn't wrong, for wanting to go back and save Jaima. Was she becoming addicted to the power that she had been offered? Was that why Celebi hadn't returned?

Sighing in near-defeat, Tuesday sat down on the ground, sniffling. It had been two days since the stampede. Two days since the thief attempted to have them killed and Jaima proved that he, too, had a Messiah-complex, when he shoved Tuesday out of the way of the rushing Tauros and Miltank, saving her life... ending his own...

"Tempest," she whispered, before she even realized that she had been thinking about the rodent. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them. The Pikachu hadn't been near Tuesday when the Tauros charged. She hadn't moved quickly enough. It wasn't like her, really, but for some reason... she hadn't moved out of the way in time. She, like Jaima and all of his pokemon, had been trampled.

And Tuesday was alone.

No, not alone, she corrected, pulling the pokeballs off of her belt. Just two. She reached down and touched the third, but it was cold now... empty. Hunching her shoulders, she called forth her remaining companions.

Dante appeared slowly, reluctantly. His head was bowed, his eyes unfocused, and his tail flame low. He blamed himself, Tuesday knew. As always, he thought he could have changed things, if only he were stronger.

Reaching over, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight, laying her cheek against his warm, leathery flesh. She sighed. "It's not your fault, Dante," she whispered. "Not your fault."

He made no reaction. This had become a repetitive occurrence over the past two days. He hadn't spoken since the stampede. True, they were in the present, without the influence of Time, so he and Wraith couldn't "speak." Or rather, Tuesday couldn't understand them verbally. But Dante hadn't uttered a sound since, and she was troubled.

Wraith had been affected differently. When he appeared from his pokeball, it was in a storm of fire. Snorting, he stamped heavily against the earth and them reared, whinnying angrily. The flames that made up his mane and tail blazed like liquid darkness, as black as pure shadow against his cream-colored coat. He was angry. Beyond angry, even. He wanted revenge.

"He who practices revenge keeps his own wounds green," she muttered without much thought.

Wraith turned toward her swiftly and snorted a hot breath in her face. His breath smelled sweet, like clover, and Tuesday raised a hand and touched his face, ignoring his angry expression, heedless of the raging black flames. As her fingers touched his muzzle, his eyes lost much of their ire, focusing on her and the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Where is Celebi, Wraith?" she whispered. "Why won't she come? Why has she abandoned us?"

Snorting softly, Wraith stepped closer and nuzzled her cheek, rubbing her tears away with the soft creamy hair of his nose. Tuesday couldn't help the smile that stole her lips, as his whiskers tickled her nose. Even as she grinned, however, the tears continued to fall.

"I want them back," she pleaded.

Wraith snorted in agreement, swishing his tail and stomping a rear hoof in disgust at their current position. He flicked his ears and regarded her with a look that was half-pleading and half-demanding. Tuesday was pretty certain she knew what he was trying to say.

If Celebi was coming, she would have been here by now.

"We're on our own then, huh?" she asked.

Wraith snorted and tossed his head. His nostrils flared as his mane blazed back and he turned to the west, where the sun was beginning to sink against the horizon. His eyes stared passed the world that Tuesday could see, as though he could find what they searched for by sheer will alone. He snorted. Perhaps he could.

"There's really only one thing left to do, then, isn't there?" she asked.

Dante looked up at her silently, curious despite his despondency, and Wraith returned his gaze to her face, ears flicking in a silent, polite demands to know what she was planning.

"Well," she said, "Celebi's the one that got us into this mess. She asked for our help to get the Time Crystal back. Jaima's dead, and now she's gone. She's abandoned us." Her pallor of sadness was replaced by a look of determination as she stood up and tightened the strap of her bag on her shoulder. "So I'm abandoning her. I'm giving up the quest."

Dante's tail flame flared momentarily for his startlement, and Wraith whinnied loudly in protest. Tuesday shook her head, both to shake away their protests, as well as to assure them that her intentions were to abandon Celebi, not Jaima and the others.

"If the situation were reversed," she said, "Jaima would come save me. No matter what." She looked down at the pokeball on her belt. She could almost feel the cold wafting from it. It was as though the darkness within were not a normal emptiness, but rather a Black Hole, which was growing rapidly and would soon devour them all. An inescapable darkness that was due to collect all mortals bound to Time.

So they just wouldn't be bound to it, anymore.

"I'm going to get the Time Crystal," she muttered. Wraith's ears flicked forward, and Tuesday raised her eyes to meet those of her newest pokemon; the one that bore a temper to match her own raging heart. "I'm going to get the Time Crystal," she repeated, "but I'm not giving it back, unless I have Jaima and Tempest back. We started this together, and we're going to end it the same way."

Wraith snorted in agreement, stamping his hooves to assure her of his readiness. Dante nodded and managed a very soft, "Char."

Tuesday smiled down at her first pokemon. She drew strength from that verbal agreement, however small it was. She nodded her head at the both of them.

"All right, then," she said. "If the thief wants to play this game, then I'll play." She narrowed her eyes. "But the stakes just went up. He's not dealing with a nuisance, anymore. It took a thief to get the Time Crystal in the first place. I guess it's going to take one to get it back."

Climbing onto Wraith's back, she grabbed the fire between her fingers. She didn't even take a moment to admire the fact that the flames felt cool, like shadows, and soft, like feathers or kitten fur. She didn't bother to consider that she was riding one of the only Ponyta in the world who looked like a mortal demon, and that as the horse raced across the ground, she looked less like a girl riding her pokemon, and more like a Nazgul racing toward death on a horse from Hell.

[Master Houndoom]

When Jaima heard the rumbling and saw the Thief pull out the fence slats, his first thought wasn't for his own dafety, but for Tuesday's. He reached for her, to try to get her clear of the rapidly approaching herd. Two things happened at the instant his hand moved; He missed Tuesday's arm, and a small, yellow form hit him in the stomach.

He reeled backwards, stumbling, and was hit again. He caught a bare glimpse of a jagged tail and was hit a third time, tumbling clear of the herd. "No! No, I didn't get Tue-"

A short, high scream sounded and then was cut off abruptly, and Mercury's ball twitched. Jaima was too shocked to move, his eyes blurred and dimmed. He caught a glimpse of a yellow form staring at the passing, panicked herd, but couldn't see it clearly for some reason.

He'd wait for it to pass, and go find Tuesday, and maybe they could figure out what made that scream.

There was a pop at his waist, and then another, and he felt warm pokémon arms around him, and heard the sound of crying. It was a little disconcerting. He'd never heard a pokémon cry before.

It isn't your fault, Mercury said, her mental voice full of grief. It isn't your fault, she wanted to save you. It isn't your fault.

Jaima didn't understand. It wasn't his fault, it was the Thief's, and when he and Tuesday found each other, they'd go after him...

Oh, Trainer Jaima...

The herd had passed, and the dust was beginning to settle. He stood, but halfway to his feet, he saw something that turned his legs to rubber.

From the bushes on the side of the road stuck a forearm and hand, still, bloodied, and familiar. Tuesday's tiny hand. Triggered by the sight, Jaima's memory played the scream, pained, frightened, and cut off before it would havr ended naturally. Jaima's legs gave out, but he didn't feel the pain of landing.

It can't be... She can't be...

I felt it... For all of it's quietness, Mercury's voice was a wail of anguish, and Jaima felt his eyes flowing with tears.

"I... No... Tuesday, I would have... She can't be dead..."

His legs wouldn't pry him up. His insides were jelly. His eyes wouldn't stop leaking.

And then he heard laughter. He turned his head and saw a fat man near a hole in a fence, dancing and cavorting as if he'd won the Daily lottery.

"That'll teach you! Who's laughing now? Not you! Hahahahaha! Now who'll stop me? Here's a hint: Not you!"

Jaima saw red. The strength that left him returned a hundred fold, and he felt himself rise. He didn't remember the run; it seemed he had been sitting on second and hitting the man the next. He didn't feel the usual fatigue or pain associated with his fist hitting another object, just the rage driving him to turn this murdering monster into pulp.

The man begged, and screamed, and bawled, but Jaima was unheeding. He simply hit again, harder. Finally, a familiar voice in his head bored through the rage.

Trainer Jaima, stop it! Stop, you're killing him!

"Good."

It won't bring Trainer Tuesday back!

"I'll feel better."

In desperation, Mercury released every pokeball, then linked the occupants to Jaima. Unlike the link in the pokecenter, this one was tenuous, the voices indistinct, but they were heard.

There is no honor in this victory...

Don't do it!

This is wrong...

Don't destroy yourself...

Stay good, Jaima, stay good!

Do it... Kill him...

The last voice, met with a collective gasp, was angry, full of the need for vengeance. Jaima turned, one hand still gripping the limp, whimpering Thief's shirt, to see Tempest staring at the Thief with malice.

He took Tuesday from me. She ordered me to push you out of the way. Kill him.

Jaima hesitated, then turned to the thief. For a long moment, it seemed he would continue the beating, but he finally dropped the thief, his strength drained. "No."

WHY? HE TOOK HER. He KILLED her! Why would you spare him?! Electricity sparked around the electric mouse in curling fire, but Jaima couldn't feel any fear.

"Because she wouldn't want us to be killers over her," he said wearily. The pikachu began to wail, distraught, defeated, mourning her trainer the way Jaima still could not. He turned away from it, giving Tempest the privacy she was due, and reached down to the thief.

"Didn't mean to kill anyone," he muttered. "In the way. Not my fault. Bullies, all of you." When he noticed Jaima reaching for him, he quailed. He didn't prevent him from grabbing the gem and pulling it out of his jacket, but whined when he realized what had happened.

The gem was small, as all things of great powere were, rounded on the front and flat and smooth on the back. Jaima gripped it.

"I'm going to get her back," he whispered, looking into the images that shifted and sputtered within the gem.

He returned the pokemon, picking up the weeping pikachu, and muttered, "take me back before the stampede."

He disappeared.

This post has been edited by Hungry Hungry Houndoom: Jun 1 2009, 11:33 PM

[Umbrae Calamitas]

She'd caught sight of him by pure luck, she was sure.

Of course, he thought she was dead. That's the only reason he wouldn't have been watching out for them... her. Tuesday swallowed thickly and shook off her grief. If she had her way, none of this would happen and she wouldn't ever need to grieve. In her mind, Jaima was not dead. He was NOT.

Dante was safely back in his pokeball, and Tuesday sat astride Wraith. The Ponyta was pure energy beneath her, muscles tense and hard as iron, quivering in expectation. Tuesday tightened her grip on the shadow mane between her fingers, her eyes narrowed on the thief.

He was standing in the middle of a field, but too far away for Tuesday to see what he was doing with his back turned to her. It didn't matter, at any rate. No, she could see the chain around his neck. The sun was at the perfect position that it glinted off of the metal of the necklace, and that was all she needed to know. He had the time crystal, but he wouldn't for long.

Pulling Dante's pokeball from her belt, she released him. When he saw the thief, his tail flame flared briefly, and he looked up at Tuesday. If not for his own determination to get Jaima, Tempest, and the others back, he would have flinched at Tuesday's gaze. Where once her eyes had been soft and filled with a love of life, they had turned cold and angry... vengeful.

He didn't like it. He hoped it would fade once they saved Jaima, but he wondered if it was possible. They could change events in time, but could they change what those events had done to a person's heart? Even if the residual pain was gone, the anger and hatred, Dante had a feeling that a shadow would always remain over her eyes.

He decided to leave mourning his trainer's true self for another time, and looked up at her expectantly.

"Dante, I need you to make sure that the thief can't get away from the other side." She gave a rather dark smirk, "Or at all."

Dante's tail flame dimmed, but Tuesday did not notice. Instead of trying to talk her out of it, knowing he wouldn't be able to, he nodded and slipped into the tail grass, making his way toward the other side of the thief.

Tuesday sat and waited, watching the thief. He looked unconcerned and completely unaware that he was about to be, for all intents and purposes, mugged.

It's much more effective if you have no idea it's coming, Tuesday noted, grinning.

She and Wraith caught sight of the smoke moments before they saw the flames. It hadn't rained here in a while, and the grasses were dry. They caught fire quickly and, even from this distance, she could see the panic in the thief as he saw the fire. It was racing toward him as though it, too, sought vengeance. A grin curled her lips as the thief began to turn. When he had made a complete 180-turn, he froze, his eyes locked on her.

Tuesday could very nearly feel the emotions rolling off of him, and she figured that the first thing that came to mind was oh, shit. She certainly hoped so.

She nudged Wraith in the sides with her heels, though she hardly had need to. The Ponyta jerked forward like her leash had been cut, and Tuesday was pretty much left to hang on as the equine pokemon raced across the ground. For but a moment, she slipped out of the desire for vengeance, the pain of loss, and the anger at what the thief had done, and she lived in the moment of absolutely loving that she was riding a Ponyta across the open lands.

And then Wraith was on the thief, and the spell was broken.

"You!" the thief gasped in fear, stumbling backward.

Tuesday narrowed her eyes. "Me," she muttered darkly. "You killed my brother, you jerk!"

"You got in the way!" he snapped, but his voice was weak. "It had to be done! You would have ruined everything! You're just bullies, and I finally stopped you!"

"Do I look like I was stopped!?" she asked. Her anger clouded her mind, but something else he said slipped through the cracks, and Tuesday blinked in surprise. "I'm a bully?" she asked.

The thief scoffed at her. "You've done nothing but hound me since I started!"

"You're stealing Time!" Tuesday snapped. "You're hurting people! If anyone is the bully, it's you, but you're worse! We only tried to stop you from hurting people, and you killed my brother! You killed Jaima! You're a murderer!"

"No! No, I'm not!"

She shook her head, not even realizing that there were tears coursing thickly down her cheeks. Wraith, seeming to have sensed her change in emotions, wasn't attacking. He wanted to, but he wouldn't betray her heart. Dante was peering out of the tall grasses with hope, seeing his true trainer again, instead of the anger. Even if she was sad...

"I know what a bully is," Tuesday said. "Did you think you were the only one who was ever picked on? Did you think you were the only one who was treated like shit by people?" She shook her head. "You need help," she muttered, "but not from this." She reached over and grabbed the Time Crystal. The chain broke when she pulled on it, and the thief collapsed to the ground, still shocked by the fact that she was alive, defeated at seeing the crystal in her hands.

Dante came trotting over and laid a claw on her ankle. Tuesday managed a small smile, a sad smile, down at him. She looked once more at the thief, before holding the Time Crystal against her chest, begging it to work. The rough side rubbed against her hands as tears still ran like rivers down her cheeks and she whispered, "Please... take me back before the stampede."

There was the softest flash of light, less bright than usual, and then the thief was alone.

And he felt it.

[Master Houndoom]

"Why won't this damn thing work?!"

Jaima had travelled back three times now, and each time he'd come to a different spot, but the exact same moment in time. The exact moment when Tuesday was killed. He could hear that shortened scream in his head over and over without the constant reminder, but hearing it as it happened was a special kind of hell. It made him angry all over again, and only the fact that his past self rushed to beat the hell out of the Thief kept him from taking the same action later.

He glared at the gem, his teeth grit. Maybe it was that he had this moment on his mind, or maybe it was that the time gem was broken. But if it were that, there was no hope, and he refused to believe that. Failure was not an option. She'd become more than a friend. She was as much his sister as the twins in Johto.

T-trainer... Jaima...

"Not now, Mercury." He'd let her out to travel with him because he knew she would be able to tell if they were actually in the past faster than he could. She'd whimpered the first time they'd come back, but Jaima had simply sent them back again, aiming further back. He'd reasoned that if coming back before the stampede was impossible, maybe aiming further back would work. He said to send him back to Lenoilia, so he could warn himself, and ended up at the stampede. So he'd aimed back, further, telling the stone to send him to the Littleroot Witch Trials. Again, the Stampede.

"Send me to the Roma-"

"LIA!!"

Jaima spun at the sound of Mercury's cry. She had pitched forward, catching herself on her thin arms barely. Jaima's eyes widened. Her crest, once a beautiful pearl-like blue was now white and etched with lines, a cross between wrinkles and cracks.

"Mercury!"

He lurched forward and caught her before she hit the ground face first, and was painfully surprised by how light she was. Hadn't they just started travelling? It was as if she'd aged decades. He turned her over, and gasped. There was blood on the corner of her mouth.

i don't... feel very good... trainer jaima...

"Shh, don't talk, Mercury... oh no..."

you couldn't have known... i didn't know...

Jaima sat down and laid her in his lap, feeling but not paying attention to the pressure on his hip that indicated a pokéball was releasing. He stroked Mercury's crest, tears washing down his face. What have I done..? What have I done to you?

"RIII!" The cry, strained through grit teeth, came from his left, and Shadow appears, putting his hands on Mercury's horns. Mercury smiled, sadly, weakly.

it's all right, shadow... it's all right, trainer... She closed her eyes, and Jaima's eyes filled with tears, but she continued to talk. I can see my mother again... i see my mother again... hello, mother...

Then she took in a deep breath and her back arched, almost in pain, but gracefully as well.

i love you, trainer jaima... shadow... She breathed out, slowly, and jaima could feel, like a warm breeze in his mind, the life pass out from her.

"No..." Jaima stroked her crest, tears falling freely now, and sobbed, once. "Oh, Mercury, I'm so sorry..."

Shadow glared at him, shaking, but did nothing else for a long time. Then he reached to Jaima's bandolier and pulled two pokéballs from it, a black and blue one with two steel grey bumps on the top, and one that looked like a ralts' head. He cradled the ralts ball gently, then set it down, grabbing on each side of the other ball, his ball. With a mighty effort that Jaima couldn't try to stop if he'd wanted to, the riolu broke his pokéball and threw it to the ground.

Then, with a glare over his shoulder, he picked up the ralts ball and walked away.

Jaima sat for a long time, holding Mercury's body and stroking her crest. He was heedless of how much time had passed, but after a while he picked up the Time Gem he'd dropped. Looking into it, he saw flickering images of past events, going in and out of focus like a malfunctioning telescope or a bad TV signal. Taking a deep breath, he whispered, "Show me Tuesday."

The images changed, and Jaima could see Tuesday as she had been; laughing at times, serious at others, watching Dante dance with an affectionate smile on her face, rolling her eyes at the Monty Arbokesque goings on of Old Littleroot, or clutching her robes in fear during the gladiator event. After a short time, before he could feel the pain of her death again, he whispered, "Show me Mercury."

The scene changed, showing the tiny ralts he had found, and the moment he had found that she was different than most of her kind. He could see her laughing and clapping, floating determinedly in front of a plant creature that he remembered terrified her, and her evolution into the more mature kirlia. Finally he saw her at each jump, getting sicker and more worn down, and he hated himself for not noticing.

"What have I done..?"

But it was a question the crystal could not, or would not answer, and in his heart, he knew. He'd let his anger consume him and forgot to look after those he'd been trusted with. He'd failed Tuesday, and now he'd failed Mercury and Shadow. He gripped the gem in his hand and took a shuddering breath.

"I just want to make it so none of this ever happened," he sobbed, a tear dropping from the end of his nose to wet the crystal. And though he never opened his eyes to see it, there was a bright flash, and he was no longer where he had been.

And above, where such beings dwell when not keeping watch over their earthly charges, Arceus felt hope grow.

[Umbrae Calamitas]

"Not again," she whispered.

Tuesday legs abruptly gave out on her and she collapsed to the ground weakly. She couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't.

The Time Crystal wasn't working. It wasn't letting them come back any further than at the moment that Jaima... Tuesday choked and leaned forward, placing her forehead against the ground as she cried. She hadn't seen him die before, just... the results. But now... thrice now she had watched his life be jerked away as he was struck by the stampeding Tauros. Thrice, she had heard Mercury's cry of agony at her trainer's death, moments before she succumbed to the same fate. Thrice, she had stood helpless and watched Shadow bound among the stampeding herd, trying in vain to rescue his trainer and Mercury.

At his every failure, Tuesday had tried to call out to the Riolu, but found her voice would not work. Thrice, she had seen the pain of futility, the acceptance of failure, in his eyes. She had watched him as he turned to face the herd, and simply did nothing as they ran him down.

And then he was gone, too. Not so much like a victim, as like a samurai.

"Jaima, Mercury, Shadow..." Tuesday shook her head, the tall grasses tickling her face but producing no laughter. She didn't think she had room enough in her soul left for laughter... for happiness. She was empty.

The pokeballs on Jaima's belt had been trampled, their occupants likewise destroyed. Jaima and his kids... gone.

"... pika..."

Tuesday jerked upward at the sound. She would know that voice anywhere, but it sounded too strained... broken.

This hadn't happened the last two times. Upon realizing that she had only come back as far as the stampede... as far as their deaths, she had immediately tried again after being forced to watch...

She had never stayed.

"... pi... ka..." Tuesday rose swiftly to her feet, scanning the once tall grasses that now lay in a trampled heap, blood-drenched in parts. "... kaa..."

"'Pest," she whispered. Abruptly, her strength returned to her as though a dam was broken and she cried out, "TEMPEST!"

Her voice echoed like the wind was teasing her. Tuesday could feel herself shivering, though it wasn't cold here. She couldn't understand why she was shivering, but it didn't really matter. Nor did it matter that her vision was blurring. Had she hit her head? She couldn't remember, but that made sense, she guessed. Yes...

Tuesday caught sight of a quivering ball of gold and brown fur. She let out a sound that was not so much a name as an animalistic cry; a barbaric sound of shock and pain. Pain of soul.

Darting forward, Tuesday dropped to her knees next to the familiar golden-brown pokemon. There were patches of fur missing, bruises marring the creature's flesh, and blood staining the once pristine and beautiful fur.

But it was still Tempest.

"'Pest," Tuesday whispered. She was gentle as she picked the Pikachu up in her arms, but she felt the tears slide down her cheeks in earnest when the small pokemon let out an agonized cry. Sitting back, she pulled the Pikachu up against her chest, her eyes meeting the dark brown orbs she had so often looked into. They were not full of anger or life this time, however, but dilated and glazed over with pain. Like frosted glass.

"Tempest..." Tuesday felt the tears slide in earnest down her cheeks. That was why her vision had been blurring. And she was shivering again. She was cold this time, though. On the inside.

She didn't think it would ever go away.

Her breath hitched and she sobbed. "'Pest..."

"Pi," Tempest replied softly. Despite her pain, it seemed a gentle assurance. It was the same tone of voice she had used when Tuesday had awoken from a horrible nightmare a few days after she was attacked by the man's Feraligatr. It's okay, Tuesday, she seemed to say. Everything's going to be fine.

"But it's not going to be fine," Tuesday sobbed. "This is all my fault!"

"Pi... ka." It's not.

Tuesday didn't take the time to wonder how she was able to understand Tempest's meaning so easily. She didn't take the time to wonder that she was hearing her call her name less, and that she was simply hearing what she was saying. She just shook her head, hair flying out around her. She held Tempest close to her, trying not to feel the shuddering of the Pikachu's small body, or her rapid breathing, the soft gasps as she tried to stay quiet and not cause Tuesday alarm. She was always looking out for her.

"Not again," she whispered.

"... ka..."

Tuesday choked on a sob, bent over as she hugged the pikachu close to her. She felt Tempest's nose brush against her cheek lightly, trying to nuzzle away her pain. She closed her eyes tightly and tried not to let the tears fall, but to avail.

Sorry...

Tempest shuddered softly, and then went still. It was so abrupt that Tuesday had to wonder if it had happened at all, but she knew, of course... she knew...

She couldn't change the past, even with the Time Crystal. They weren't allowed. She wasn't able to come back any sooner. She couldn't save Jaima, who had come to be like another brother to her; someone she looked up to and was able to rely on, now that she was separated from Brone. She couldn't save Mercury, she couldn't stop Shadow... and she couldn't will Tempest back to life.

She had failed.

Tuesday refused to let Tempest go. She refused to set her down and force herself to see that this was the end. If she didn't see that Tempest was dead, then it wasn't true. It wasn't. There would still be some hope left... somewhere...

Tuesday drew in a shuddering breath, trying to fight away her tears, but they would not leave her. She choked out a broken sob and shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks, heedless of her wants, her desire to be strong.

She didn't have the strength to be strong anymore. Not without them.

"I just wish... I wish none of this had ever happened," she whispered, the tears raining where the sky would not. A few of these crystalline tears dripping onto the Time Crystal that hung uselessly around her neck, and the jewel glowed brilliantly. Her eyes shut tight, Tuesday did not see the white-hot glow, like life, curl around her and speed out among the grasses like a living force.

The world around her shifted, changed, the trampled grasses replaced with a short lawn, the blood vanishing as though it had never been.

And Tempest's body, simply fading from Tuesday's arms.

Heedless of where she was, she let out a shriek of defiance and pain. "No!" she screamed. "You can't have her! You've taken away everything else, don't take her, too!" Her voice broke off into a shadowed whisper. "Don't take her away from me, too..."

Time, however, offered no sympathies, and Tuesday was left to her tears. Bent over the grasses of an unfamiliar place, she sobbed openly and without shame, choked by her own pain.

And though, as Arceus watched, he felt hope, not even he could stop a tear from falling.

And it began to rain.

This post has been edited by Umbrae Calamitas: Jun 1 2009, 12:54 PM

[Master Houndoom]

Jaima did not notice when Mercury's body disappeared. not at first, and when he did, he hissed. It was raining in the empty field where he stood, and he wanted to rail against the heavens. He had wept enough, he had no more tears, and now the heavens mocked him by weeping for him.

Tempest, who had saved his life, dug her claws deeper into his shirt, but he didn't care. She had become a constant presence there, a constant weight, so much that he'd forgotten she was there. Let her tear him apart. There was no hope, no reason to go on. He wished for an errant bolt of lightning to take him out of his misery.

"PIKA!"

Jaima blinked. The sound was one of anguish and joy, a sound he never thought he'd hear. The pikachu crawled form his left shoulder to his right, and then leapt off. Jaima turned to follow.

There, standing with her face down was a form both familiar and strange. Tuesday stood, fists clenched with white knuckles, and trembled, sobs wracking her body. Jaima, at first, had the wild notion of fearing he was seeing a ghost. But if he were, wouldn't that ghost be angry at him, and not sobbing dejectedly? And wouldn't Tempest not be able to see it? Tempest bounded through the tall grass as if rushing to safety from the storm, her cries fading agaist the background of rain.

Jaima trembled, then took a step, then another. Even if it was a ghost, to see her, to apologize one last time, to try to make her understand that he'd tried would be worth it.

She looked up and was suddenly still, the rain hitting her face hiding the salt tears of anguish. Tempest stopped a few feet in front of her, ears twitching and tail quivering. Tuesday looked up, met Jaima's eyes...

and screamed, stepping back and falling on her bottom.

No ghost would do that, I'm sure, spoke a mental voice, sounding like Mercury despite being from his own head, and he laughed in spite of himself. Jaima took the next few steps and knelt down, looking at his adopted sister with great affection.

"You're going to get wet, Tuesy," he said, his throat tightening. Tuesday stared up at him for a second in wonder, then reached out and grabbed his shirt. She let out a cry that was half anguish and half relief and leapt, landing with a thud on his chest and bawling like a newborn. Jaima himself couldn't say anything to reassure her, he, too, was weeping openly, holding her tightly and sobbing into her hair.

"How," Tuesday managed to choke out. "How, I don't understand, I saw you die, I saw it three times! How?!"

Jaima pushed her away, just far enough to see her pale, stricken face. "I... I didn't die. You sent Tempest to save me. You were the one who died..."

"You threw me clear!" Tuesday was stuck between a laugh and a cry, and Tempest took that instance to shove her way between them. She did not bother trying to separate the humans, but nestledinto Tuesday's chest, who began to weep openly anew. She held the pikachu, and Jaima held her, and for a moment, that was all there was.

"I don't understand, either," Jaima said when he finally found his voice again.

Tuesday looked at him, looking as if he had granted her every wish, then frowned. "Four..?" She pointed at his chest, where his pokéballs were strapped.

Jaima swallowed thickly. "I... I messed up, Tuesy. I kept try- trying to go back to stop--... it was hard enough to see it, but Mercury... mercury must have kept feeling it, over and over... she died, Tuesy..." It was Tuesday's turn to hold Jaima as he cried again. When he finally finished, he took a deep, shaky breath. "Shadow broke his pokéball and walked away with Mercury's. I... I couldn't even argue it. I just let him..." He looked so hurt, so vulnerable just then. "I failed them. I failed you."

"But... you're here. I'm here. How..? I thought I failed you. I couldn't stop them from hurting you or your pokémon... Jaima..."

Jaima opened his mouth, but instead of his voice, both heard a tiny voice in the distance. "Help! Help! Someone help me!" It was panicked, and obviously a child's, and without thinking Jaima moved to find it, keeping a tight hold of Tuesday's hand, as if letting to woul dmake her fade away and he'd lose her again. They ran as fast as she could to the source of the noise.

There was a boy under a tree, holding a ragged, water soaked zigzagoon. Around him, in a large swarm, were bug-type and flying type pokémon, fighting each other and menacing the boy as well. There was agroup of children nearby doing nothing to help, rather they were pointing and laughing, hurling names and insults like daggers. Jaima felt his jaw clench, but he no longer felt th eneed to lash out... now he just wanted to help the kid.

"Ember, Fang!" He tossed the two balls to the fore, letting loose his cyndaquil and shinx. Tuesday's voice had also cried out, and Dante appeared as well, along with Wraith, and she commanded them to attack the bugs.

"Fang, thunder wave! Hit all those birds!"

"Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more," called Tuesday, pointing. "Tempest, knock them from the skies!"

It felt good, for both of them, to be doing something, and before long the ground was littered with unconscious birds and bugs. Jaima looked at the boy, who stared at the wet, weary pair with wide eyed wonder, sniffling. The rain had stopped as the battle had progressed, and now, briefly, the clouds broke, allowing the sun to shine for a short time. And, to the boy, it seemed as if the light of Heaven had shined down and at least two people had cared for his well being.

Jaima turned to Tuesday. "You talk to him, I'll talk to his friends."

"I don't think they're his friends, Jai."

"You talk to him, and I'll talk to this gaggle of yahoos."

Tuesday smiled at his back as he walked toward the group.