[X] My Assistant

[Umbrae Calamitas]

Had Tuesday been aware of the storm that had been brewing within her team, she would not have anticipated it to come to head as it did. Had she known, as Odysseus knew and other suspected, that it was only a matter of time before the fury culminated, Tuesday would have expected it to do so in the presence of Jaima. She would not have anticipated that she be so far removed from her friends as she was, an unknown number of miles away from them, in fact. She would not have guessed that the rage which filled the heart of her first pokemon would reach its apex during a pokemon battle with a trainer she had never met before. Had she known, she didn't know what she would have done to prevent it.

But then, she didn't know.

"Laurel, use Take Down!"

"Smokescreen, Dante!"

The venusaur that was the third pokemon her opponent sent out charged forward with a grumbling roar. Dante hunkered down on his back legs, muscles tense, hissing as the smoke burst from his mouth like a gas bomb, filling the air with a dark cloud which obscured their view of each other.

Laurel's move must have missed its target, as there was no sound of an attack having connected. Only the grumbling of the large saurian beast and Dante's ominous hissing.

The field in which the two trainers were battling already contained evidence of their pokemon's harsh battles. Grass was torn up in area, great gouges had torn through the grass and soil, and whole areas had been trampled or burned clear of vegetation. A large dead stump off to the side had already been a point of attack for Tempest, Tuesday's hotheaded pikachu. The bark still coating the stubborn remains of the tree was crispy and brittle on the edges, and the center of the tree was blackened and scorched. The stantler, who had attempted to use the stump as a springboard of attack, had not fared well from the attack, either.

Tempest, of course, had been beaten nearly to unconsciousness by the small deer-like pokemon that the other trainer had used as her second. Tuesday had never encountered the pokemon's like before, but the adorable pink and yellow pokemon had clearly been a grass-type, or partial, like the venusaur before her now. Tuesday resisted the urge, with some difficulty, to fetch her sketchboard and draw the pokemon. It was a close thing. Her fingers were itching.

This third pokemon was proving to be difficult, however. Dante had laid waste to Horizon, as the girl had called her fawn pokemon, but was now faced against a pokemon of a greater evolutionary tier, and power. Of course, being a fire-type helped.

"Fire Fang!" Tuesday called.

She heard a snarl from within the smokescreen and caught a glimpse of a flash of fire. The gentle breeze which had been blowing was quickly causing the smoke to dissipate, and Tuesday caught a glimpse of her opponent on the other side of the field.

Straight brown hair was cut just at the girl's jawline, curling in at the ends. A single strand of hair, errant, with a slight curl to it to differ from the rest of her hair (as all errant strands must), hung down over one of the girl's large green eyes. Her lips were parted slightly as she watched the battle before her. Her hands clenched into worried fists as she attempted to command her pokemon in such a way as to bring the battle back into her favor.

"Earthquake!"

"Earthquake?" Tuesday gasped, just as the venusaur stomped great paws down on the ground and caused it to tremble beneath her. Tuesday let out an "oof!" as she lost her footing and toppled, with no small amount of embarrassment, onto her behind. She grimaced at the sore pain in her rear, but blue eyes flicked up to the battle before she bothered to get to her feet. The smoke still hung with stubborn futility in the air, brief wisps of dark cloud, but she could see the two pokemon fine. Dante had lost his balance from the attack and collapsed onto his front, legs and legs splayed outward. As he pushed himself to his feet, hissing dangerously, he did not look the least bit pleased.

In the moments after Dante had fallen, the venusaur had taken advantage of its opponent's lack of attacking and moved closer. Tuesday thought quickly of a way to give Dante a chance to get away from the pokemon. A fire attack would do more damage, of course, but even with the super-effective attack, the venusaur would have a chance to retaliate. a physical attack was more likely to make the larger pokemon flinch away, or at least attempt to dodge, giving the charmeleon a chance to put some distance between them.

"Dante! Metal Claw!"

The charmeleon put its weight on its right rear leg as it brought its left arm raking upward through the air, claws glowing. The metal claw attack caught the venusaur across the face, causing the pokemon to roar and pain and jerk backward on instinct.

"Get out of its range, Dante!" Tuesday called. She knew, of course, that the charmeleon wouldn't be able to get out of striking distance of a vine whip or razor leaf, but as least he could avoid being stepped on.

Instead of doing as she said and retreating to a safer distance, however, the charmeleon hissed loudly, a burning sound, like cold water hitting a hot skillet. Light flickered beyond the charmeleon's fangs, and then flames burst forward. The venusaur roar and reared back on its hind legs, eyes shut and face as turned away as such a large pokemon could manage.

"Laurel! Use Synthesis!" the brown-haired girl cried, fists clenched at her chin.

Tuesday hadn't even thought of what order, exactly, to give Dante before the charmeleon was attacking again. Fire burst forth from his mouth, causing the venusaur to retreat, its attempt at performing Synthesis a failure. Dante advanced on the pokemon, mouth opened in a continued hiss that was interrupted only by the flames that burst forth. Fire attack after fire attack, the charmeleon unleashed unrepentent fury upon its opponent, oblivious to the measures of his own cruelty and Tuesday's cries for him to stop.

Exhausted, with scorch marks scattered across her body like war scars, the venusaur collapsed to the ground with a great rumble and thump. Snarling, Dante's claws glowed on both hands, and he lunged with fire flickering in his mouth. The fainted venusaur was a defenseless victim to the charmeleon as his claws tore through blue-green flesh and his fangs, burning with flames, shredded the petals on the unconscious pokemon's back with great bites and vicious twists of his head, as though the venusaur were not another living creature, but a dog toy, to be chewed to pieces for amusement, if nothing else.

"Dante! Dante, stop!" Tuesday cried, horrified. Her attempts at recalling the charmeleon were a failure when he dodged the red beam of the pokeball, only to unleash a flamethrower attack upon his felled opponent.

"Laurel!" the other girl cried, tears filling her eyes but unfallen, as she desperately searched in her bag for her pokeball.

"Dante!"

The charmeleon ignored her again and, horrified at what she was witnessing her first pokemon do to another, Tuesday grabbed another pokeball from her belt and tossed it outward. The words she thought she would never say - words that fought tooth and nail to be substituted with vomit at the very thought of them - tore from her throat before the pokeball had even fully unleashed its charge.

"Odysseus! Take Dante down! Water Gun!"

[Umbrae Calamitas]

It must have been the easiest option for the not-Fae to convince Tuesday that she and her friends were warriors. Dragonslayers fit well with the fantastical theme they had chosen for their own illusion, but the warrior idea was more than likely derived partly from fact. They were all talented fighters on their own, but watching Jaima and Meiko's actions, utterly separate and yet benefiting each other with every move. It was the way that soldiers worked after years of training and they did it intuitively.

What was it they said about telling lies? The best way to make them believable was to keep as close to the truth as possible.

Tuesday was aware of what was going on around her as a sort of secondary knowledge. Her primary focus was on the Fae Queen. Oh, the king made a pretty hard argument toward being the leader of this group. It was easier to do with humans, who lived most often in primarily patriarchal societies. Their group, though, were more open than a society would have been. Meiko, after all, was pretty clear on what she thought about people thinking women were unable to stand on their own two feet. The girl had been traveling by herself for some time and done a good job of showing that she was more than capable of most, her sex aside.

Tuesday, too, had done some traveling on her own, and she knew that it was her age, or perhaps her youthful appearance, that often made others (or Jaima) think she was incapable to handle a pokemon journey without aide. She had proven herself, though, to others and to herself.

As for the present guys, Jaima wouldn't be in a relationship with Meiko if he wasn't perfectly agreeable with her about women being able to handle themselves. He also wasn't an idiot, but those two went kind of hand in hand.

Tuesday couldn't say much for Reilly, not knowing the real him incredibly well, but the Nurse Joy in Lenoilia was his sister, and since the Joys were notorious for having a huge family, she was pretty sure he knew what women were capable of.

It seemed to her that these not-Fae were attempting to take their thoughts and culture and pasts and twist them. They had fooled her and Reilly for a time. They might have even fooled Meiko and Jaima. But all four of them were free now and they would take no quarter. Tuesday wasn't an idiot. She could look back on the encounter she and Reilly had with these creatures and she could read things in the way they'd glanced at each other, the way they'd moved. The king had taken a primordial role likely because all four of them were humans who had lived with their families in a society were the father or male guardian was generally seen as the head of the household. Tuesday remembered the looks the queen had given her companion, though, when saying one thing or another. When telling her fellows "this is the way things are."

So she was ignoring the gallade who called himself king, whom Zorro was driving down and back, and looking for the queen.

She was aware of her friends. More aware than she had allowed herself to be in the journey here to rescue Zorro. She could admit to herself freely that they were here, that they were alive, because Zorro was safe. A breakdown was not imminent like it had been when she still required her anger to keep her moving.

She was aware of them, but they were secondary to her search for the not-Fae queen. Leaders and snakes and taking off heads. Let the not-Fae hear that whisper in her mind. She wouldn't hide it.

Tuesday felt a brush on her senses. An attempt to read her or control her, she couldn't tell, but she knew what the touch of a psychic felt like.

My friend Cassandra would make a doll of you, she thought fiercely. The brush disappeared, retreating.

Tuesday turned around, a smile on her face that would have fit better on a haunter's violet face.

"My Queen."

~*~

Reilly did not bother to command his pokemon's attacks. Instead, he unleashed them, declared the unfamiliar psychics and ghosts as enemies, and let them do what they did best.

Which, considering how much they had learned from him, was improvising.

Indiana, Phoenix, and Boromir took off with a fury.

Indiana the monferno took to his leaping attacks with fervor, going after a group of kirlia who had been attempting to use psychic attacks in tandem on the other already-busy pokemon.

The growlithe, Phoenix, stepped away a few feet and stopped, snarling and snapping her jaws, but not leaving Reilly's side. Reilly wasn't all that surprised. The growlithe had been overprotective ever since she was a pup.

Boromir the buizel used a spray of water to go sliding off into battle, using a group of pokemon much like bowling pins.

Reilly kept his eyes open and took in everything around him as best he could, as he made his way over to Tuesday. The runt was staying in relatively the same spot, moving to avoid attacks that shot her way, often without looking. Reilly noticed that her gaze was focused quite firmly upon a gardevoir, and he didn't get close enough to interrupt the flashing roar of energy between the two that made him want to hide under a large stone, but he was close enough that if needed, he could make a difference.

Or, well, Phoenix could. She was good at that.

~*~

The gallade was flagging.

He was fast, and his attacks were strong, but Zorro was faster and stronger.

The lucario was accustomed to constantly moving, dodging, flipping, and pulling tricks. As a riolu, he had been very knowledgeable of his body's abilities and limitations, and while this knowledge had been somewhat thrown due to his evolution, he was still a force to be reckoned with.

And, he would admit to himself with an admittedly conceited air, he was a darn sight better than a brainwashing knight in mossy armor.

A copycat attack sent the gallade's psychic attack flashing back in his face. The pokemon staggered backward, startled by Zorro's signature move.

"Do you yield?" he asked. And perhaps it was a foolish question, but he felt inclined to be the better pokemon.

"Never!" the gallade shouted, lunging forward.

Zorro grabbed the blade-appendage thrust toward him, dug his feet in, and rotated his hips. He used the momentum from the manuver to swing the gallade around and throw him roughly to the ground. His paw lashed out with a sharp strike, cracking the gallade across the face and knocking him unconscious.

The lucario gave a sharp nod. "Now you yield."

He glanced around, spotted Tuesday facing off (by herself, foolish child!) with the not-Fae queen, and bounded off toward her. She would not ever, but in this especially, have to stand alone. Not so long as Zorro was here, and he intended to linger.

"You are monsters!" the gardevoir screamed. Her words were spoken telepathically, but acted much like a human voice in that their reach was determined by distance. Zorro was able to hear her more clearly the closer he got. It was likely a habit she had picked up from pretending to be Fae.

"You come into our home and you attack us, you strike down my family." She turned her glare onto Zorro as she said, "My husband. You are monsters."

"You're one to talk." Zorro heard Tuesday's thoughts echo in his mind, a sarcastic retort she didn't want to speak aloud. He was tempted to say it for her. But no.

No. She wanted to be diplomatic.

He sighed.

"You disagree?"

Ah, he was aware of her. And getting quickly accustomed to their strange ability to communicate silently.

"I believe they are foolish and will not accept reason," he corrected. But I trust you, he thought to himself. He saw her brief smile and wondered if she had heard.

"We stumbled into your home by accident," Tuesday said to the not-Fae queen. "We fell, we were injured. We meant no harm."

"You fell fighting an innocent!"

"We fell defending ourselves, as you would have defended yourselves in the same position. Probably better, considering how strong you are. So much stronger than a mere human with no psychic powers and no way to defend herself from being manipulated into believing her friends are dead."

The gardevoir narrowed her eyes. "You brought your slaves with you-"

"I do not have slaves, or servants," Tuesday said, her words quicker than the calm tone she had been using in part because of her anger, and because of Zorro's low growl. She had a hand out to block him from making any rash actions, but that was the ratta's territory, not his.

"I have friends," Tuesday continues. "Companions. Brothers."

The gardevoir snorted. "Prisoners in a gilded cage. You carry your weapons that bind us, control us, make us like you, make us obey. You command and we must jump, your hands a collar about our necks!"

"I know people like that," Tuesday said, and her voice was quiet, remorseful. "There are people in the world like that, cruel, who treat their pokemon badly." She hesitated a moment, her eyes downcast. "My own sister can be like that." She raised her head. "I'm not. I've made an effort to be friends with my pokemon, not a commander. To be their companion and never a... a jailer. I wouldn't want that sort of relationship with them, and if they didn't like being with them, then they could ask to leave, and I would let them."

"You lie!"

"Read my mind." At the gardevoir's startled look, Tuesday shrugged. "You've done in before to get all that information to trick me. You've been inside my head already, what's one more time? So go ahead. Read my mind, search my memories. Try to find a moment when I was deliberately cruel to my pokemon. It'll take a long time to find one. Forever, actually. I suppose that's not long at all."

She motioned toward Reilly, who startled at being brought into the conversation. "Or read Reilly's mind. He's even had a telepathic pokemon of his own, so I bet he knows how to lead you right to the memories you need. Or, well, he could, if he had any, but I know he doesn't."

The gardevoir was looking at Reilly, who looked startled and confused himself, maybe a little frightened. The boy met her eyes after a moment, though, and didn't run. If she wanted to read his mind, he'd let her.

And didn't that tell her so much right there.

"There are bad people in the world, yeah. There will always be bad people. I suppose that's the curse of being human, really. Some of us can't see which is the bad way and which is the good, and some other people don't care and selfishly look after themselves. I always sort of envied pokemon for that. They never had to worry about accidentally being cruel. They just lived, and if they were cruel, it was because they were trained wrong."

Her look of sudden disappointment was a shock. "But you're a wild pokemon, aren't you? I bet you always have been. You don't act like a pokemon who knows what people are like. You act like a pokemon afraid to find out you're right. And you're cruel."

Tuesday looked away. "I don't think you understand how disappointing it is to learn wild pokemon can be deliberately cruel."

It didn't bother her as much as it used to, the memories of the feraligatr, the water, the feeling of being unable to breathe as darkness curled about her vision. It didn't hurt as much, but it still hurt a little, it was still frightening. It had been a lesson in that people were cruel, could train their pokemon to be cruel.

And here was another. Outside of training, pokemon could be cruel, too. On their own, without direct human influence. Maybe it was because they were psychic pokemon. They were more aware of the world than other pokemon. Their minds were more open, more aware. More human.

Maybe that was the ultimate flaw.

"You made me a prisoner," Zorro said. His hermana's mind had wandered off, disappointed, lost, trying to catch equilibrium in a mentality that had been shaken. "You took my from my hermana, you imprisoned me. Before that, you tricked her with illusions, with mental whispers of a world that does not exist. It was you who collared us, and you did not need a pokeball to do it."

He cocked his head to the side, looking at her with quizzical golden eyes. "Who is the monster, False Queen? Who, among us, is the jailer?"

The gardevoir glanced around her. The fighting had all but stopped. The trainers and their pokemon were still split up amongst the masses, guarding, protecting, being watchful and cautious. Most of her brethren were unconscious, fainted, but some had surrounded and lay quietly, subservient. Frightened.

None of them were seriously injured. None of them had been captured.

They had lost the battle, but they were still free.

They were still free.

"You wish to leave," her voice whispered, soft, but they all heard.

Tuesday blinked her eyes back into focus, looked at her.

"That's all we ever wanted."

The gardevoir bowed her head. "Then go."

~*~

It seemed a very abrupt ending, honestly. Tuesday was... not disappointed, but perhaps confused. She had expected something more ferocious, more damaging. Of course, they had proven their strength, proven that the not-Fae could not defeat them. Had the queen attempted to hold them, they just would have taken her down, too. Perhaps that's really why they released them, in the end.

The four climbed the steep hill into the sunshine and she heard Reilly let out a deep groan of relief. "Finally!"

There were a series of chuckles. Tuesday wasn't among them.

"Problem?"

She smiled. "I owe... a lot of apologies."

The lucario blinked, nodded softly. "You will be forgiven."

I know. That doesn't make it right.

"I'm sorry," she said aloud, causing the others to stop and look back at her. She scratched her forehead where her hairline started. "I shouldn't have run off like that."

"You're damn right you shou--"

Meiko's hand clamped over Reilly's mouth, effectively stopping what seemed the beginning of an epic tirade.

"You were distraught, Tuesday," she said, ignoring the fierce mumbling of the redheaded boy against the muffling of her hand. "We understand that you weren't thinking clearly."

"We are disappointed that you didn't let us help you more," Jaima continued, "but there were extenuating circumstances, and sometimes that couldn't be helped."

Yes, they would understand how strong psychic influences could be, and not only because they both had a psychic pokemon partner. All of the things that they had been dealing with recently.

"We're still a little confused about what happened, so I wouldn't mind an explanation at some point." Jaima took of his glasses, cleaning them on his shirt. "Considering what all has happened in the past, though, this turned out pretty well, I think."

"Jaima, don't jinx it!" Meiko hissed, swatting at him. She smiled at Tuesday. "I'm a little curious, too, but priorities first." Her smile turned into a scowl and she released Reilly to plant both hands on her hips. "When is the last time you had a bath? Or eaten? Honestly, I can accept that this kid will always look a mess," she said, motioning toward Reilly ("Hey!"), "but you should really take better care of yourself, Tue-chan."

"In my defense, I was traveling the world slaying dragons. Bathing wasn't too high on my priority list."

There was a pregnant pause.

"That's going to be some story."

~*~

Deep beneath the stone ceiling of a once-hidden cavern, the not-Fae queen of a hidden group of pokemon let her rage curl outward like smoke. She felt the dwindling presence of the humans and their servant pokemon slip from her realm.

She turned to the ghost waiting patiently at her side. The liars could run, but they would not escape her. Her shadow was long, and her eyes traveled far.

The ghost's curious whisper touched her mind.

"Follow them," the queen commanded her servant, and watched the ghost disappear.

Deep within a guilded cage beneath the stone, the Queen of the Realm smiled.