LIOR

They were out in empty water, a ways from the trench. Elon floated ahead, winding smoothly across the sand, while Lior trailed behind, his gills gasping. His friend kept shooting him curious looks, but it wasn't until they crossed over a hill that the boy finally asked why: "Are you okay? You sound weird, and you're really slow today. Is it that getup?"

Yes, it was definitely the armor, an incomplete set that the beastmaster Cephas had dumped on him last week: it included the army's signature red breastplate and a matching set of arm guards. Not included was the tail chain mail that every other soldier wore. And thank Arceus for that, because this was more than enough—"burdensome" didn't even begin to describe this alien weight. Lior felt like he was bearing the mass of three or four millstones, and had been for a week.

More than a week.

"Yes," Lior said. He tried not to sound cranky, but his voice still came out clipped. "It's very heavy."

"It looks kinda loose, too," Elon commented, winding behind Lior. He poked his hand into the hole the left arm went through in Lior's breastplate and exclaimed, "Lookit this! My whole hand can go in! Shouldn't it be smaller?"

"They didn't have one my size," Lior grunted. He didn't bother explaining how no one at the corrals had bothered trying to acquire one of proper size for him — it wasn't as though he was going to be joining Cephas's rigorous training or anything. In fact, when Lior had reported for duty on his first day in the corrals, the huge, burly merman had outright dismissed him...after grabbing his arm and casting over it a critical eye.

"What do we have here?" he'd boomed, lifting Lior high off the sand. "These look like the fish bones I scrape off my plate at mess! Has the good holy Commander sent me a guppy for training? How old are you, boy?"

Lior had been shaking — all of the squires and army Pokémon had gathered around the beastmaster at his raucous cry, turning what should have been a private conversation into an embarrassing and slightly terrifying show. And the massive Jeager's grip on his slim wrist had hurt. Badly. "Nine, sir," he'd whispered.

"Nine, he says," Cephas had bellowed, lifting him higher by the wrist. "Nine! You should still be sucking at yer mother's teat, guppy! I've got beard hairs older than you! Whereas you've got no fuzz at all, save for that mane growing from your skull. Hairless and hapless, but crawling into my space all the same, demanding a spear and a go at one of my Pokémon?" He gave Lior a harsh squeeze and a harsher glare before finally releasing him, and turned. "The nerve! Carys at least waited 'till she was eighteen before she came calling. Out of my sight, gup. I'll not have child soldiers crawling under fin!"

At that, the crowd had dispersed. Lior had caught sight of Nightlight before he'd retreated—the Chinchou had been smiling hugely, and it wasn't until later that Lior realized it had actually been infinite relief for Lior on his face, maybe even joy.

But the Chinchou's hopes were to be dashed, because before Lior could go back to Titus and tell him that the beastmaster had...misgivings about him starting work with them, he'd been stopped by the threat to General Carys's position, the Kingman Camon. He'd carried that accursed armor with him, a poor and almost cynical welcoming gift.

"He doesn't want you to leave," the senior squire had explained as he helped Lior don the armor. "But he does want you to meet his standards before you actually begin training for combat. He's right about your size — you don't have enough muscle to wield a spear in battle for long. Acquiring that muscle is your first task." He'd finished adjusting all the straps on the breastplate, then kicked away and asked, "How does it feel?"

It had felt bad — the breastplate had all but transformed him into a living anchor, and he could hardly move his arms for the arm guards at all.

But it only got worse when Camon said, "You aren't allowed to take it off for two weeks, except for when you retire at night. You'll wear it every minute of every day otherwise: during your duties, mess, and even when you relieve yourself."

What! Lior had been certain that he'd misheard him. But no, Camon had looked quite serious, and he'd despaired a little: What new torture is this?

"You'll wear it until you can bear the weight without effort," Camon had said to his frightened look. "At which point you'll be ready for work with a spear. Until then, you'll help some of the junior squires with upkeep around the corrals."

How? He could scarcely move! To be sure, he'd tried a few simple maneuvers, which had frightening results. "I-I can't really move," he'd stammered.

Camon had shrugged. "You have an entire day to figure it out. Report back to Commander Titus for an alternative assignment. You can start work with us tomorrow." With that, he'd gone, leaving him flabbergasted and afraid.

Lior explained all this to a wide-eyed Elon as they started down the hill, and his mouth popped open when Lior finished.

"Really?" he cried. "Two weeks? And not even to pee?" He shook his head. "Why are they making you do that? It sounds so stupid!"

Lior agreed...with Elon's anger, at least. He wanted to be angry too...but he just felt weary, for what a hellish time he'd had at the corrals since then! He almost wished that Titus had decided to keep him with Enos, because for a week and a half he'd slaved through menial manual labor that no one else wanted to do, made nearly intolerable by the boulders' weights he bore on his back and arms. Scouring armor with cleaning sand, digging and emptying the latrines, organizing bedding for the Pokémon, fetching feed for them from the mess tent, sharpening weapons, taking broken weapons to poor Adiah for repair...

He was not the only one to do these things, but he was the one who did most of them, because the other squires had to split their time between upkeep and practicing combat maneuvers under the supervision of a temperamental and easily-provoked Cephas. As a result, his portion of the tasks was mountainous, and Camon, who oversaw him, forced him to work at a grueling and seemingly never-ending pace: whenever one task was complete, there was Camon, there was always Camon, waiting for him with another errand, another chore. Not once since he'd started had the older squire offered him a break, not even when he desperately needed one.

And so of course after a week of this, he'd grown to resent, and then eventually almost hate the Kingman, most potently at night, where he went into a black, death-like sleep with muscles screaming. Screaming kind of like they were screaming now, in fact.

Elon looked upset. "Why are they so mean to you?" he asked. "I don't see them treating anyone else this way."

Lior shrugged, and did not disagree. "Maybe they want me to turn out like Nightlight."

"Who's Nightlight?"

"My Pokémon..." Frown. "Was my Pokémon. He's a Chinchou, and they put him with Cephas too, after I joined."

"Was Cephas really mean to him too?"

"Yeah. But now..." Now Nightlight was mostly ignored by the beastmaster during training, and this was a very good thing.

Sometimes when Lior was doing something repetitive and mundane, like laying down seaweed bedding for the Pokémon, he had a chance to actually watch what the squires and the Pokémon were doing in the sand. Quickly, he'd learned that under Cephas's command, weakness attracted attention to itself: Cephas tended to make examples of hesitant Pokémon by drawing them out of the crowd and making them face stronger opponents, and during the feeding brawls, weaker Pokémon were bullied and beaten and went hungry.

These days, Nightlight went virtually unnoticed by Cephas, and at the end of every feeding frenzy, Lior always saw him chewing something. It made Lior's heart swell with pride...and a wistful sadness. His dear friend was so different now, and he wished he could spend more time alone with him, like they used to, looking for shiny rocks and playing Sea Knights in the sand. But now they were both soldiers, and those days were over.

"Still, it's not fair," Elon complained. "Maybe I should talk to Cephas? He's that big, burly guy with the long beard, right?"

That startled him. "You know him?"

"Well sure. Sometimes I go with Tirza and Reuben on their medical errands." He grinned. "And sometimes I don't bother going to Phinebas for my lessons, and go exploring! One time I did that and ran into Cephas. He's a Jeager like me, so I tried to talk to him." Now a scowl. "He told me to 'bugger off'. Jerk: he's lucky I didn't sting him!"

That brought a surprise smile out of Lior. You, sting Cephas? He probably would have, too, if he could've gotten away with such childish behavior — he had with Titus. The problem was that Cephas didn't call Elon "brother" and didn't want his cooperation with this ceremony to revive Kyogre, so in all likelihood, Elon would've gotten his tail twisted into a knot; Lior had seen the beastmaster threaten the squires and the Pokémon with such a thing several times over the past week, and he'd seen him strike his subordinates before.

Lior told him this, and Elon waved dismissively and said, "Fine. Maybe I'll go over his head and speak to Titus again."

"You've done that enough. Where are we going?" Lior didn't want to talk about his frustrating work anymore, and he definitely didn't want Elon to start thinking about bargaining with Titus again — Lior did not want to be treated to another paddle with a wooden sword sheath. He was sore enough! "We've been swimming for ages."

The boy brightened instantly. "Oh, we're almost there! See that?" He pointed a ways ahead of him, where the dark seabottom grew even darker. "That shadow? That's the Shelf."

"Shelf?" Lior drew up short. Just as he'd been doing every other day for the past week, Elon had come to pick him up an hour before sundown for play, and Lior had gone mindlessly along today, still swooning from another exhausting day of unrelenting labor. Now he wished he'd asked about their destination before Elon had led him away, because they were quite a ways from the trench, and now that he stopped to look, the rock and cracks in the seafloor around here didn't look very inviting.

"Yeah, we're not going far beyond," Elon said cheerfully. "I wanted to show you something I found three months ago."

Lior saw a shadow slink across the seafloor and flinched — it came from a Huntail winding its way above them. Luckily, it didn't look hungry. In fact, it was making its way in a hurry. For some reason, Lior didn't like that one bit. "It looks dangerous," he said.

"It's not! I was out here all by myself when I first found it."

Lior looked behind him. "Let's go get Lady Tirza and Reuben."

"Why?" Elon demanded. "They'll just keep us at the caves! Come on, let's see if there're any jewels inside!"

That caught his attention. "Jewels?"

"Rubies. Sapphires. Emeralds. Maybe more! Who knows? If you don't go, you'll never know, right?" Elon was slowly inching his way forward. Lior didn't realize that he was subconsciously following until he actually stopped.

"Where exactly are these jewels of yours?" he asked suspiciously. "Is it a cave?"

"Sorta." Elon's grin was full of mischief. He beckoned. "Come on, Lior!"

Another shadow, this one of a Lumineon hurrying across the rocks, as though running from a predator. "Lady Tirza and Reuben could see it too," he said stubbornly.

"Fine, go get them," Elon sniffed. "I'll be swimming in precious metals by the time you get back." With that, he turned and quickly faded into the growing gloom.

Damn it! It was the first time that Lior had ever cursed, verbally or otherwise, and it had flashed through his skull like a punch, straight up from his gut. Elon was young...but Lior sometimes thought that he was very smart, because to Lior it felt wrong to leave him out here in the dark by himself. Grinding his teeth, he started after him, his heart beating against his ribs as another fleeing figure came out of the dark, this one an Octillery creeping across the rocky seafloor. Next time, I'm not going anywhere without Lady Tirza!

He found Elon waiting for him a ways beyond the edge of the Shelf, floating in a pressurized nothingness that seemed as lonely as the void of space. He gave Lior a very irritating, triumphant smile, and then pointed downward. "Look," he said. "Amazing, no?"

Lior squinted. It was so dark out here that at first he thought Elon was pointing at some protrusion of rock emerging from the wall of the cliffs reaching down into the abyssal plain. But no — Elon grabbed his hand and led him down, and the shadowy shapes resolved themselves into the prow of a ship. A great ship — a hulking galleon from the age of pirates and seafaring debauchery, complete with five masts, the remnants of a crow's nest, and a great forecastle flanked by high stairs. It sat here at the bottom of the ocean, rammed face-first into the wall of the cliff with its masts leaning into the rock and its gunports facing skyward. One even had the black head of an old cannon facing outward, as though prepped to shoot for the surface.

"It can be our secret fort!" Elon said excitedly as they went further down. "I'll take the captain's quarters. Maybe you can find some space in the galley or something."

"Ha ha." Lior tried not to give into the giddy awe that had taken Elon. The boy was right, this was pretty amazing... But all the same, he didn't like going down here in the dark, anchored down by heavy armor that depressed his movements and would make it hard to run if it came right down to it. He couldn't see anything amiss as they reached the quarter deck, but... He just didn't like it. They were too far away from camp — would anyone even hear them if they screamed for help?

Stop it, it's just an old ship. And don't think about camp — camp is where Cephas is, and you're trying not to think about him, right?

"Oh, look at this!" Elon exclaimed. "They had quite a fall!"

Yes, the body of the vessel was buckled violently in the middle, like bundled cloth, only wood. And the main deck was ruinous: holes and splinters raced across the floor; the spine of every mast was broken, leaning heavily into the cliff wall; and the capstan was like a broken wheel, sitting against a hole that had been punched into the quarter deck. Sea growth crept into all the cracks and crannies, growing green and crusty and long, as if the ocean wanted to lay a veneer of natural beauty over all the destruction.

"What do you think its name is?" Elon asked as they floated around.

"Name?"

"Every ship has a name! Especially the ones the pirates used." Elon twisted around to an old, rotted barrel, which was barely holding its shape. Until he poked it — then it collapsed into an opening flower of feeble wood. "What do you think this one was called?"

"I don't know." Lior peered around. "Do you think it's written somewhere?" Not that he would've been able to read it if it was...

"Nah, probably not. This thing's so old, the letters were probably eaten off by barnacles!" The boy ascended the sterncastle deck and positioned himself beyond the wheel, what was left of it — most of it had been gnawed away by the sea, and half of the spokes on the remaining segment were gone. But it still moved — creakily — and when Elon got it to spin, he said, "But it doesn't matter anyway! I'm the captain now, and you're my first mate, and so we shall name it ourselves! I nominate the Blasted Scream."

Lior was amused. "What does that even mean?"

"I don't know, but it sounds epic! ...Doesn't it?"

A huge smile sprung to Lior's face, and he tried not to laugh. Or be mean: "It sounds...a little silly."

"Hmph! What's your idea then, pirate?"

Lior considered. "How about the Shadow of the Dagger?"

"Bleh." Elon spat out his tongue. "Too long. And it's dumb!"

"You're dumb," Lior mumbled.

"What was that, first-mate?"

"Nothing, cap'n. Okay, try...the Last Doubloon."

"No, let's do the Deceit of the Curse."

"The Dragons Revenge."

"The Fearful Saber!"

"The Ocean's Edge."

"The Flying Howl!"

"The Storm's Delight."

"The Howling Storm!"

They went on and on, with Elon's suggestions getting more and more nonsensical and ridiculous. Until Lior landed on, "The Black Grail."

Elon opened his mouth to counter, but paused. Then grudgingly, he said, "All right... That one's kind of cool. I suppose...maybe we could go with that."

Now it was Lior's turn to feel triumphant — he loved the stingy look on Elon's face. In fact, the win kind of reminded him about his victory over his mother, in choosing the name of his sister...

Quickly, he refocused Elon before that old pain could fully rear its ugly head. "Well, cap'n," he told the boy. "Are we ready to set sail?"

"Aye!" Elon brightened and took ahold of the wheel again. "Set a course for adventure, Lior! Let's see what the Black Grail is made of!"

It turned out that their new ship was quite a match for the turbulent seas of Adventure Land — they encountered two ferocious thunderstorms that they had no choice but to soldier through, and on the other side, First-Mate Lior spotted a hungry Wailord off the port side, intent on taking a bite out of the hull of their ship. Cap'n Elon was forced to engage in a tricky, nearly impossible move to out-maneuver the beast, one that nearly saw him and the entire crew to an early, watery grave.

But praise be to Kyogre, the Black Grail had a skilled captain, and they reached port safely, weighing anchor at a deserted island, the perfect place for them to bury the treasure they'd stolen from the Krabby King when last on the mainland.

"First-mate!" Elon cried when they "docked". "Help me unload our precious cargo! And have a care, boy — one doubloon out of place, and it's your hand!"

Lior laughed and came down from the crow's nest. "Aye, captain — I know my manners." He glanced upward, suddenly wondering how much time had passed. Certainly almost an hour — Adventure Land was a lot more fun than his own reality, and he wished he could stay there. But he was beginning to feel the armor again — and the weight of tomorrow's responsibilities at the corral. A heavy breath left him.

"We'll have to wait until next time to bury it, though, captain," he said. "We should be getting back, before Lady Tirza and Reuben start wondering."

Elon's cheerful smile collapsed. "Aw, but we haven't even seen the inside!" He followed Lior's gaze to the top of the Shelf, and then said, "Come on, a few more minutes."

Lior's jaw tightened. "I don't want to get in trouble."

"We won't! Let's just take a quick peek. Don't you want to see the captain's quarters?"

He certainly did — and actually, he sort of wanted to see Elon sit in the captain's chair, and pile his tail on the table with a captain's swagger. He wouldn't be out of place, there: Elon was snooty, energetic, and blunt about what he wanted, a pirate captain if he'd ever seen one.

"Five minutes," he relented.

Elon beamed and whipped down from the sterncastle, scooting through a crack behind the overturned capstan. "Come on!" he called.

Lior went after him into a tunnel of wooden dilapidation — this part of the ship had borne the brunt of its fall to the bottom of the ocean, and Lior couldn't really tell what anything was supposed to be — everything looked broken, and the darkness was deep, so if there were halls or chambers, he couldn't discern one from another.

Tragically, the captain's quarters had suffered the same fate: there was a roomy chamber at the back of the Black Grail, one crushed so thoroughly that it actually looked to be continuous with the cliff face against which it was squashed. Coincidentally, it appeared that there was actually an entrance to a giant cave here: the broken walls and floor abruptly gave way to rough stone covered in the wiry limbs of hardy sea grass and tube worms, which gradually disappeared into a void. One from which strange sounds seemed to be emanating... I hope there aren't any hungry Pokémon in there! Lior thought.

Elon gazed around, looked crestfallen. "Nothing left," he said with stark disappointment. "Not even a bottle of old rum! This stinks."

Lior peered around the wreckage, pawing aside pieces of splintered wood and algae-covered glass in hopes of finding something interesting in the mess. But alas, everything was either broken, or the cool stuff was buried deep in all of this junk. "Certainly no treasure chests," he remarked.

His friend grunted, then twisted to the very back, where the ship ended and the cave began. "Maybe it fell in there," he said, jabbing his thumb into the pitch blackness.

"I'm not going in there," Lior said, more sharply than he intended. "And neither are you!" He snatched Elon's wrist — the boy had been edging towards the cave. He wriggled, but Lior didn't relax his grip.

"You're such a wet blanket!" Elon complained. "All right, fine. But I don't wanna go back empty-handed. I want a treasure to put by my bed! Let's dig a little."

"I've been digging latrines all day," Lior said pointedly. Elon ignored him and got to work and, reluctantly, Lior did too, moving aside more broken wood and metal, all the time fully aware of how his body screamed at every flex and bend. Damn this armor!

There it was again, that bad word. He shuddered — he was spending a little too much time around the rough-talking Cephas, it seemed.

"Hey look!" Elon said a few minutes later. He wriggled from underneath some wreckage, and came free with something rusty and metal in his hand. "What do you think this is?"

It looked like a pipe, but it was much too big, and very oddly shaped, almost like an Ekans, with a wide opening at the end. "A horn?" he said.

"Yeah!" Elon's eyes lit up. "But what do pirates do with horns?"

"Maybe the captain blows it before a raid," Lior suggested.

"Or maybe this is how he gets the crew up in the morning."

Lior shrugged. "Does it work?"

Elon tested it, but the sound that came out was weak and thin.

"Deep breath," Lior advised.

Elon complied, and a few bubbles emerged with a stronger croak. He wheezed. "Hold on. Almost got it." He tried once more, his cheeks inflating like a Croagunk's and growing red-hot, and just when Lior was going to roll his eyes and tell him to give up, something popped out of the end: a clot of muddy sand, and then a rippling bellow so strong that it blew Lior's hair back and sent his heart racing for the surface.

"Whoa!" he cried.

Elon grinned at him. "It's a war horn, all right! I'll bet the captain used it to summon an army of Sharpedos!" He put his lips back on the horn, but the sound that came out this time was deeper — a heavy rumble that Lior could feel inside his head, almost a growl. He frowned, and so did Elon.

"Was that the horn?" the boy asked.

The sound came again, racking between Lior's temples, and his eyes widened — Elon's lips were not on the horn. And... He shielded his eyes. Stray silt was raining down from the ceiling, forming stinging clouds that got in his eyes. The ceiling was shaking. The wreckage— The room was shaking, quaking under that sound, that low growl — snarl. It wasn't until that moment that Lior realized that if that sound wasn't coming from the horn... Well then, of course, it had to be coming from a beast. A giant beast. A—

Behind Elon, the foliage covering the ceiling began to ripple faster and faster and...move, peeling from the walls, reaching for Elon. Lior stared at it. Foliage? No, this stuff wasn't green — it was long and wiry and thin, like...antennae, lots of it. How had he not realized before?

"Elon," he said quietly — the boy had not noticed the horror unfolding behind him, and was still gazing about, trying to determine the source of the noise. Lior didn't want to frighten him...but didn't know how, and wound up saying the wrong thing: "Elon, come here, slowly. Don't look behind you, just...come here."

So of course, Elon looked behind him... Straight into yawning maw of a furious Gyarados.

Elon didn't scream so much as wail, and the sound was so harrowing and agonized and horrorstruck that Lior was no longer able to keep a lid on his own fear for the sake of his friend — it broke out like a frenzied Pokémon, and when Elon bolted back the way they'd come, Lior followed, the both of them shrieking as though they were being crucified.

In fact, their cries actually drowned out what was happening behind them, and so Lior didn't know what was going on until they were halfway back up the cliff, and he turned to look, because of course he had to turn to look. And far below, the ship was breaking apart, splintering in half as the Gyarados fought its way free from the cliff wall, its great body wriggling madly through the remains of the wreck like it was trying to break out of a trap.

Then it was free, and was winding through the water like a massive flag, and Arceus it was so long, so big, monstrously big, its fins longer than a merman's entire body, and its face bearded with feelers, tentacles, that antennae that had been gripping the cave wall, waiting for a sound loud enough to wake it up. It spiraled after them, releasing that skull-throbbing roar, and its open mouth raced after them like a net.

"Lior!" Elon shrieked.

He had stopped a ways above. Stopped? Why is he stopping, what is he doing, what'shappening,ohArceus,I'mabouttodielikeCheber,eatenliketheMan-of-War! His eyes stopped working right, capturing snapshots instead of a continuous sequence: the Gyarados, behind them, closer, then Elon, closer, then Elon's hand on his, and then a shadow on the cliff face, and then darkness. He didn't realize that Elon had pulled them into a tiny crevice in the rock until the Gyarados arrived and rammed its skull against the outside. Its broken teeth came down on the stone, pulverizing it between its lips as easily as Lior might devour a hearty meal.

Is it swallowing them? He thought hysterically. It likes rocks? Or maybe the salt on the rocks. No veggies though. Eatsomeseaweed,Gyarados!

The sight filled his vision, and the terrifying sound his ears, and Lior began to feel faint under the weight of a bone-breaking terror. But...was he mad, or was the Gyardos growing farther away? He became aware of Elon's tight grip on his hand, and every now and then, a tug. They were going further into this little crack in the wall, deeper into the darkness beyond. Is this a tunnel?

"Lior, faster!" the boy rasped. "Before it gets us!"

Blankly, Lior obeyed, and the thunderous sound of rocks being crushed and the Gyarados furrowing madly after them continued. But abruptly, the beast vanished from sight. And then, a little while later, the din grew muted as they turned around a second bend, before nearly disappearing altogether, save for the dull thud of breaking rocks. Lior didn't know what this meant for a long time. Then his heart and head settled, and the miraculous realization came down on him like a waterfall: Did we escape?

It had all happened so fast that it almost seemed like nonsense... But he was still alive, wasn't he? Alive and crawling on hands and tail, scooting along a nearly invisible tunnel. How... Ahead, something cracked, and he snapped to attention. "Elon?"

"Yeah," the boy panted. "Are you okay, Lior?"

"I...I think so. You?"

For a moment, no answer. Then a flash of light...and heat. Magma — it appeared a ways ahead, welling into a ball against the stone wall like a bead of blood. In its harsh light, Lior could see Elon's face. The boy's breathing came out in a harsh rattle, but his face was more or less calm. Remarkably so.

"Okay," he said. "Close one. Was that guy under our noses the whole time?"

Lior shivered. "Was it a trap?" Had the Gyarados been laying in wait while they'd been sailing in Adventure Land, waiting for them to come to the captain's quarters?

"Well it didn't work! That blaggard can go knot himself."

Didn't it? "He knows where we went in," Lior pointed out with another shudder. "He could be waiting for us to come back out, and..." He trailed off, not wanting to entertain that line of thinking any further.

Elon's lip curled. "He can keep waiting. Follow me. We're getting out of here."

What? "How? Isn't this a dead end?"

"Nope. This tunnel will take us right back to camp."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Elon crawled forward, towards the still-burning magma, and Lior hissed, "Be careful!"

Elon glanced at the steaming bud of pyroclastic material and waved dismissively at it. The magma went out like a candle, plunging them back into the dark. Lior could feel it smoldering as he crawled by, but most of its heat had disappeared like a breath of wind.

Later, he thought it funny that he'd found that moment more striking than the attack of the Gyarados itself.

***

"In the King's name!" Phinebas roared. "Where have you been?"

The old merman pinched Elon's ear as he said this, and the boy wriggled, trying to escape. They were back in camp, and surrounded by two walls of people: Phinebas, Tirza, Reuben and several other clan members on one side, and Titus and an array of soldiers on the other. The Commander floated at Phinebas's side, his face wrinkled in pointed and dangerous annoyance. He wasn't looking at Lior — yet — but Lior still felt an animalistic desire to take shelter, because he was sure that a storm was on the horizon.

Elon worked his way out of Phinebas's grip, scowling fiercely. "I told you! Today was my day with Lior, and we went out exploring."

"You told me no such thing!" Phinebas cried. "We've been turning the seabottom over looking for you! We had a meeting with Commander Titus, did you not remember?"

"Nope," Elon growled. "And how's it my fault that you didn't hear me when I said I was going to the Shelf?"

"The Shelf?" Now Phinebas's voice grated with hysteria. "Empty-headed little half-wit! What have I told you about going there on your lonesome?" He spun Elon around. "Is that why you're so grimy and filthy? What were you doing out there, wrestling?"

A very guilty look replaced Elon's scowl. "W-well..."

"Are you injured?" Tirza Mari asked. She came to Lior and lifted his arm. Sure enough, there were several smudges marring his white skin — two were just smears of muddy silt from the tunnel, but one was a bruise he hadn't even known he'd acquired during their escape. And it wasn't until that moment that it chose to start throbbing.

"Who gives a care about the child soldier?" Phinebas snapped. "I'm more concerned about the health of your charge, Tirza!"

"I'm fine," Elon said, pulling away from the old Dewgonga. "Stop yelling! It's not like we were attacked or anything, it was just—" He trailed off on the furious look on Phinebas's face. "Really! We were just playing, and—"

"Try again, young man." Phinebas seized Elon's arm with a bony hand and said, "You've been trying to lie to me since before your scales first started growing in, and it hasn't worked once. You aren't fooling anyone, certainly not me. So spit it out, before I decide to strap you, like in the good old days!"

Mutinously, Elon remained silent, and Titus growled, "I tire of this. He's here, Phinebas — what does it matter? Let us begin our meeting."

"He's not meeting anyone until he answers for this foolishness," Phinebas snapped. "Your ceremony be damned — he's run off without my consent one too many times, and I tire of that. Elon Kygriss-Mari, do you want to join the cooks? I'm sure they would appreciate an extra hand in washing dishes."

Elon scowled, and Reuben said, "Was it a Huntail again?"

Elon glanced at Lior, and Titus noticed. "Lior," he said, impatiently. "Perhaps you'd like to speak for your playmate."

The Commander was in a bad mood today — was it because he'd been unable to hold one of those mysterious councils with Phinebas and Elon about the Kyogre ceremony today? Perhaps. Whatever the case, he didn't see another choice but to tell the truth — the last time he'd lied to Titus, he'd gotten paddled by a sword sheath. So with a guilty glance at his friend, Lior spoke quickly: "A Gyarados. There was a shipwreck out beneath the Shelf, and we were playing there. It was sleeping inside the cliff wall, and we woke it up, and when it chased after us..." He trailed off, unsure of how to explain what had happened next.

And he didn't need to: Phinebas's withered face seemed to deteriorate further. "My word, a Gyarados?" he cried, a gnarled hand fumbling against his heart.

"Great Arceus," Reuben said, aghast. "And you say it was at the Shelf?" He glanced from a pale-faced Phinebas over to Titus. "That's... Stars, that's less than half an hour's swim from here, isn't it?"

"It's fine," Elon insisted. "It's probably still out there trying to find us. I made a cave and we escaped, see."

Made a cave? Lior thought.

"Silence." Phinebas seized Elon's ear again. "I'll hear nothing else from you for the rest of the day. Go to your quarters, and stay there. You and I shall talk at length later. Reuben!" He shoved a protesting Elon into the retainer's arms. "Take him!"

Lior watched as Elon was marched back into the gloom, towards the caves, and wondered what he himself should do. Should I go...? But no — Titus was giving him that look, one that told him to stay put. So he did, his shoulders trembling under Tirza Mari's hands.

General Mattathias appeared out of the dark at Commander Titus's side. For once, he was not smiling. "Are you saying that there's a Gyarados out there, not far from here, digging around for two stupid merboys in the rock?"

"And likely not happy about it," General Carys growled from Titus's other side. "They gave it the slip — probably it's pacing up and down this stretch of the seafloor, hungry and now angry. And won't it be pleasantly surprised when it goes up the hill and takes a left? An army makes for a veritable feast that'll keep the hunger pangs away for days, Commander."

A shiver went down Lior's spine. What have we done? A little harmless fun on what they'd thought was an old shipwreck... But could Lior and Elon possibly have brought death down on everyone's heads? He hunched a little, feeling nausea rippled through him even as Lady Tirza soothingly rubbed his back. I knew we shouldn't have gone without Lady Tirza and Reuben...!

"Agreed," Titus said. His face was about as expressive as steel. "It would also appear that you are in need of our help once again, Phinebas."

The old merman's bony jaw tightened. "You have chosen to lay your beds on our doorstep, and avail yourselves of our home," he growled. "You may as well do something useful. The question is, can you do it?"

Titus did not answer. Instead, he turned fully to Lior. "Do you recall the direction from whence you came?"

Another ripple of illness. "I-I think so, sir."

"Yes or no, soldier."

No! "Yes sir."

"Good. Straighten yourself up. You will be leading us to the Shelf once we have assembled a company of warriors and Pokémon." He gestured, and Mattathias and Carys both turned and disappeared into the dark.

Tirza stiffened. "To what purpose? To kill it?"

"To stop it, Lady Tirza — that is what Phinebas expects of me, and that is what I shall do. Lord Kygriss-Mari resides in this place, and for that reason, I shall allow no harm to come to it or its people." He raised a brow at her. "Do you object?"

"I object to Lior accompanying you!" she cried. "He can give you directions from here — he does not need to join you in this...this battle!"

The Commander scowled as soldiers began coming up the hill, rallying behind him. "I would advise you not to advise me on how to use my own soldiers, my lady. I am aware of his age and have no intention of throwing him into battle. But he knows where this shipwreck is, and will guide us there. Or would you rather I have Lord Kygriss-Mari lead our company?"

"But you're going to face off with a Gyarados! That is no place for a child, guide or no!"

"Tirza enough," Phinebas hissed. "How long do you plan to stand there and make a fool of yourself? Come away, and look after your charge — let the Commander do what he likes with his soldiers. Or do you plan on accompanying this boy to the Gyarados, and protect him?"

Tirza only faltered for a second — then she held Lior close and glowered fiercely at Phinebas. "Perhaps I shall," she said, her lips curling back.

The old merman's thin eyebrows furrowed furiously. Lior clutched her hand. "Lady Tirza," he said softly. "Please. It's all right."

She looked down at him, eyes dark with fear. "B-but..."

"I'll be fine." This was his fault anyway — if he'd just convinced Elon to get her or Reuben to join them... But no, he'd gotten swept away, and now look where they were. He could only make this worse by allowing her to come with them on their dangerous venture. His resolve hardened when a group of army Pokémon joined the gathering ranks, and he spotted Nightlight among them. "We'll be back soon," he assured her.

She appeared upset, and for a moment, he thought she would protest further. But she looked into her eyes, and with a heavy, scared breath, surrendered. "All right," she said, and that was that. She kissed his forehead before pulling away, back towards an infuriated Phinebas, and she stayed there, watching after them, as the army set off, with Titus at the forefront, and Lior swimming beside him. Lior tried to keep himself steady as his friend was swallowed by the gloom, and prayed this Gyarados would not make a liar out of him.

***

The Gyarados came upon them like a sudden storm, and Lior barely had a minute to prepare himself.

As he led them through the hills, they heard the beast's roaring before they saw it, and felt its furious movements in their lateral lines, yet somehow that still proved a poor warning — when it came rushing out of the gloom, it came with all the suddenness and fury of a riptide. Lior could feel its weight as it swept down over them, so much so that he was actually thrown sideways at its passing. Someone seized him — Titus, maybe — and pinned him to the ground. Beyond him, he heard screams and shocked cries and he was again reminded of the story of Cheber, and their doomed battle in the trench.

Especially when Titus's weight on him eased, and he was able to look up: the Gyarados had gone a ways above, and so had the screams. There was something in the brute's mouth, something squirming, trying to fight its way free... Something that the Gyarados swallowed whole as it came around for another pass. Lior's stomach bottomed out, and he tried not to look.

"Bring it to ground." Titus's voice was strong and cold, about as unshakable as an iceberg. "Three waves, soldiers last. Move." He flashed Lior a glower. "Stay out of the way."

The company quickly recovered and moved as a unit, side-stepping to a stretch of broken, rocky ground, and as Lior laid himself low behind a great boulder, he watched a line of army Pokémon ascend to meet the incoming beast: the Milotic, a Kingdra, a Mantine and two Staryus... No Nighlight, thank Arceus. They met the Gyarados head-on, and the Milotic intercepted it with a Whirlpool, driving it off course and down to the silt, which it hit with a dull thud.

As it tried to rear its colossal head, the Kingra, Mantine, and Staryus took over, surrounding the Gyarados in a giant circle. They appeared to be manipulating the water, using its great pressure to keep the enemy Pokémon down. For fifteen seconds, it worked.

Then the Gyarados lurched up, and the spell was broken: the ocean turned to chaos for a moment as the Gyarados's water collided with the army's water, resulting in tearing currents and clouds of foam. Lior saw the Staryus get thrown back, and the Mantine went spinning through the blue.

But the Gyarados barely had time to get its great body off the sand before the second line came down upon it: the Starmie and Seaking, followed by a Seel, Wailmer...and Nightlight. No! Lior watched with mounting fear and helplessness as they bore down on the Gyarados with a myriad of devastating attacks, trying to freeze, stun, maim, and paralyze it, all at once. Nightlight lit up like a thunderous sun, pouring a devastating and continuous stream of electricity down across the Gyarados's skull that made all of its antennae stand on end and its fins shake uncontrollably. It began to bend under the onslaught; the last line, of all soldiers, rose up behind the Pokémon, and Titus kicked forward. Is it almost over? Lior thought hopefully.

It appeared so: "Hold it!" Titus commanded and he ascended. He lifted his hands, palm up, as though offering a gift to Arceus, and the taste of frost came to Lior's lips — the current began to spin up again, this time with a cold, controlled, and deadly intensity. The taste of ice grew stronger, and Lior began to shudder uncontrollably. Titus roared something else over the furor of the tide, and the soldiers rose up, brandishing their spears. But they did not approach, not yet — to Lior, it seemed that the actual merfolk were more auxiliary in this fight, there to clean up after the Gyarados had been defeated. This was a battle for Pokémon — and Titus.

The Gyarados screamed and began to thrash as though desperate to escape a trap — which it was. High above it, high above the Pokémon, several long, thin, and colorless shapes were beginning to form in the freezing water. They looked like...spears. Only they were moving, steadily growing, elongating until they were icy skewers two dozen tail-lengths long. Icy skewers... Lior's eyes widened, and went to Titus, who floated still as a stone in the whipping tide. Is he doing that?

More skewers formed above the Gyarados, creating a ceiling of spikes ready to come down on the creature at any time. And it knew it — its thrashings grew more intense, throwing up sand, throwing up rocks, but it couldn't seem to move properly — it was almost like it was having a seizure, its struggles awkward and uncontrollable. Its face grew mad with desperation, and Lior looked anxiously at Titus.

What are you doing? Kill it! Kill it, please, before it escapes!

Titus waited another moment... Two. Three. By that time, close to twenty icy skewers were hovering above the Gyarados. Then, finally, blessedly: "Retreat!"

The Pokémon disengaged and fled as though pursued by the devil himself — Lior lost sight of Nightlight in the chaos. But he very clearly saw the skewers move — actually, they flashed, shooting down for the Gyarados like carefully-aimed arrows. The wounded Gyarados jerked, trying to dodge the incoming javelins. Both of them were fast, and so half missed.

The others landed with horrifying accuracy.

The lower half of the Gyarados's body was impaled by Titus's spears. One punched right through its throat. Two slammed through its fluke. Blood went up like a red explosion, torn free from its wounds by the cruel current. Quickly, it was lost from sight. The taste of copper flooded Lior's gills a moment later.

It was hard to describe what happened next. Part of Lior thought that the Gyarados died...mostly. But its body kept moving, in the grip of either violent death throes or excruciating pain. It came barreling out of the red smog, its body lurching, twisting, and seizing like a poorly-handled puppet, in nightmarish fashion. Its eyes had turned black, and its jaw hung loose, a tide of blood spewing from its mouth. It slammed to the ground not ten yards away from a group of soldiers before shuddering back upward, twisting nonsensically.

Lior heard Titus swear and saw him lift his hands again, but before he could summon more ice skewers, the Gyarados came their way, its body dragging across the sand and throwing up a huge cloud of silt as it charged towards them. Titus, soldiers, and Pokémon dove out of the way, and it crashed into a tower of rock several yards away, splintering it right down the middle and sending boulders sailing out into the blue.

"Fall back!" Titus roared as the Gyarados came shambling for them again. "Lior! Get back, now!"

He hadn't realized that he'd frozen: something about the Gyarados's blackened eyes and gaping mouth had struck him to the core, and even at Titus's cry, he found he couldn't look away from the horrifying creature as it thrashed its way across the seafloor towards them... Towards him. Everyone else was leaving, fleeing, but he still couldn't move, even as the Gyarados brought its giant skull down so close that it knocked Lior from the ground, its life pouring from its body in a red flood.

Five blunt fingers sank into his shoulder and dragged him back; behind him, he heard Titus swear colorfully. "Damn you, move yourself, Lior!"

But he couldn't — his muscles had turned to jelly. An atrocious sound came from the Gyarados's mouth: just like Elon earlier, it did not scream, but wail, giving voice to a hideous death knell. Titus hurled something as he pulled Lior towards him — another icy skewer that lodged into the Gyarados's lower jaw. It did not slow it down, and its maw gaped wide for Lior like a black door.

And then, quite abruptly, it closed, snapping shut as its jaw drove into the ground. Lior was blasted by a cloud of sand and a harsh forward force so strong that it nearly tore his hair right from his scalp. He thought he screamed, but couldn't actually hear it — a booming din filled the inside of his head, like a thunderclap. It was slow to fade, and so was the cloud of silt, but when it did, Lior realized that, remarkably, he was still alive, and so was Titus, floating behind him and holding Lior tightly against his chest.

Even more remarkable: the Gyarados was lying flat on its face, only five yards away. The water was still hazy with sand, but it actually looked dead now. Lior stared at it, baffled, terrified, and weak with relief, at all once: What just happened?

"Commander!" Voices from behind — Lior heard soldiers swimming towards them. "Are you injured?"

"We're all right here." Titus sounded rattled — his voice broke in the middle as he held Lior away from him at and arm's length. "Lior?"

He struggled to speak — the Gyarados, even dead, seemed to be holding his gaze with its black eyes. "I'm okay," he managed. "Thank you, Commander."

Titus's face sharpened into a glare and he looked about to say something, until something over his Lior's shoulder caught his eye. "Arceus above," he growled.

Lior lifted his eyes to follow his gaze and gasped. Sparks were coming from the dead Gyarados's skull, spreading out in weak waves from its left eye. Nightlight? Yes — as Lior watched, something small and blue pulled itself free from the Gyarados's eye socket and came floating down to them. Lior's mouth parted: Nightlight looked weary, but unharmed, and was covered in blood.

"Nightlight!" he exclaimed, pulling the Chinchou closer. "Oh Arceus, you're hurt!"

Nightlight disagreed — shaking his head vigorously, he pointed back to the Gyarados. Lior frowned — and then understood. His jaw dropped.

"That, the Gyarados—" he started.

"It would appear that Cephas has reared competent warriors within his corrals," Titus said. He sounded and looked grudgingly impressed. "It takes fortitude to go for an enemy's eye with such fervor. Doubly for a Chinchou." He glanced at the Gyarados corpse. "An electrical blast from such a vantage point was more than enough to put it down for good."

Lior stared down at his friend, awed. Nightlight. Nightlight did that? Nightlight stared back, and put his fins on either side of Lior's face. He chattered worriedly. Lior just shook his head.

"I'm fine," he said. "You...you saved me, didn't you?" He shook his head. "I should be worried about you! But...maybe I don't have to as much anymore. I can't believe you just did that. A Gyarados. What has Cephas been feeding you?" He laughed lightly, humorlessly, then shuddered, and felt tears very suddenly stab at his eyes. He'd almost died today, twice. And Nightlight... What would have happened if Nightlight hadn't risked his own life to save him? If Nightlight hadn't attacked the eye of a monster ten times his size, one that could have crushed him like a bug-type without a second thought?

His arms went around Nightlight. "Thank you," he said, "but...don't be so reckless next time. I need you, Nightlight. I can only do this because you're here. You know that, right?"

Nightlight pulled up out of his arms and kissed his forehead yes, and began to glow. Lior jerked back, shocked at the sudden light. Nightlight had turned into an underwater star, with a shifting, growing white core. Lior pushed back from it, completely bewildered. He stopped against Titus's chest.

"Perhaps now you'll be grateful he stayed," the merman rumbled.

What? The word barely crossed his mind before comprehension struck his head like a punch. You don't mean—

Yes. Lior looked back to his friend, and saw that the sudden, alien light had gone just as quickly as it had come, and in its wake was a creature—a bigger, longer, heavier creature—that was...and was not his friend, at once.

"Nightlight?" he said uncertainly.

--

Featured Artwork: Lior and Nightlight

Last time with Nightlight as a Chinchou! Unfortunately, I have a lot of other art with him like that, and not in his evolved form... ^_^'

Shipwrecks

According to the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization, there are an estimated 3 million shipwrecks like the one Elon and Lior found spread across the planet, and many of them are hundreds and even thousands of years old.

My state, North Carolina, is actually known as the Graveyard of the Atlantic, as there are an estimated 3,000 shipwrecks resting around the coast and Outer Banks.

There's actually a wreck very close to my town that's only visible when the Cape Fear River goes low.

It's USS Patrol-Craft 1084. It was a sub-chaser during World War II, and after it retired it served as a "floating dock" for Breece's Landing. The more you know! o_O

Historical significance aside, in the fictional world of FLOOD, shipwrecks don't serve as community  hubs or homes for the merfolk as often as you might expect. This is because shipwrecks are landmarks and things of interest, and humans are always looking for them. And, as you've seen, they can also serve as dens for dangerous Pokemon!