(ELITE) The SINJOH Team

The small shards of ice from the frost giving way beneath Prince's feet stab into him with each step, but the tiny Ralts barely notices the fact.  His feet are too cold to feel the pain, and only the slight pressure alerts him of the frost's assault on his feet.  Small hands reach up to scrub his knuckles into his eyes, rubbing them hard enough to see stars; it leaves a dull ache in his head that worsens his headache, but what else can he do to stay awake?

Sluggish walking slows further as he attempts to hunch over a little more, a soft gust of cold breeze biting his face.  Maybe he should... just go back... and lie down... just for a while... he's feel a little light headed; a rest should clean that up right awa- no.

With a cough he rubs his eyes again and grits his teeth, forcing his protesting limbs to keep going.  Tendrils of excitement are seeping into his mind, curling around his thoughts.  It fills his chest and brain, a hotness spreading throughout.  It's been so long since he's felt excitement, genuine excitement, and it brings a shaky smile to his face as he attempts and fails to brush his filthy bangs from his eyes.  Someone nearby is excited and it's infectious, the feeling pooling in his chest no longer just the other person's but his own.  It adds a bit of a spring to his step, and the sensation of a positive emotion leaves his head spinning from giddiness.

He allows himself a little twirl, spreading his arms wide only to severely regret that when another breeze chills his frail body.  It's quickly shoved aside; when was the last time he'd sensed positivity?  Or felt it?  Legends, he'll enjoy it while it lasts!  The Ralts laughs, a little hysterically, letting his newfound glee seed and sprout.  People, actual people!  Just up ahead!  Oh, if this is real, he won't ever stop smiling!

Everything's been so dark, so black, for so long; this needs to be real.  It has to be real.  It has to be.  Another spasm of hysteria bubbles out as a giggle.

There's more now, a strong anchor of calmness, confidence.  They soothe the chaos in his head, taking the joy and quieting it, relaxing it into something not as dangerous in its intensity; he's about thirty seconds from calming down when the sharp bite of anger and frustration set in, and he whimpers, wincing as the bitterness leaves a nasty taste in his thoughts and drives away the positivity.  Oh why, why?  Why must someone be angry?  Should he continue onwards after all?

But... people... even if they're warring, they're still company.  He can't spend another night alone, legends no.  Please no.  He'll go mad.  The undead and their sorrow and rage will eat him alive without ever laying a claw on him.  One hand brushes against a rib, and he moves it slowly down his torso, counting the bones as his fingers pass over them.  His physical needs, those are a problem too.  He can't go on like this.  He just can't.

I promised Az I'd be strong...

More emotions--apprehension, but hope.  Budding hope.  Whoever this stranger is the Ralts silently thanks them as he feels the hope settle in his own belly, letting out a sigh.  The anger is still there, but the hope helps a little, mixing with the quiet confidence and calm to soothe his frayed nerves.  Yes, he can do this.  This is something he can deal with.  

He shudders as something else crawls into his head, claws through his chest.  His shaky steps come to a halt, eyes staring ahead, empty.  That... he... he remembers something that felt like that...

This isn't the same kind of anger and frustration from before.  Oh no.

This feels more like that...

The Xatu.  The monster.

A faint but colossal roar rips through the trees, and his heart turns to ice.  He must be much closer than he thought he was, because he can see the trees start moving, and hear shouting.

Terror rips into him, threatening to shred him from the inside out.  Prince's mouth opens in a scream that dies into a choked sob.  

And the memories, legends, they won't STOP, it just keeps coming, and over it all he knows that bird is watching, just WATCHING, like this is all a game.  His mouth is open; is he screaming?  He can't tell, god, please let it stop, please please please please

The visions of gore and horror disappear as soon as they came, and he stumbles away backwards, almost falling over himself, as if that could do anything.  Screams now, and he manages to right himself with a lot of flailing, gasping for air.

What happened over there?

(He's only a short distance away from the entrance to the ruins; they should be able to see him when they go into the area.)

"Do you know how to find this place?" Lincoln asked as he padded alongside her. Cynthia rubbed her hands together and exhaled some warmth into them. "I have a vague idea," she replied. "More of an intuition, really...Just up ahead is the largest network of underground ruins." She pointed up ahead, where a massive stone structure sat ominously watching their approach. "I think it will be in there somewhere. I makes sense, since--"

A sharp squawk from above cut her off and she looked up to see Braviary coming back. The bird looked flustered as he stopped and hovered in front of them. "An undead, just up ahead," he said. "Heading this way, and it looked pretty pissed off."
"Battle positions," Cynthia ordered calmly, standing tall and facing the threat as it approached, beating its massive wings and screeching like a banshee. "Braviary, behind me." Her Pokemon did as he was told, moving behind his master and flexing his talons, ready for battle.

As the Aerodactyl got closer, Cynthia watched its every move, waiting for the exact right moment to strike. While Famaer ordered them all inside, Khan stood his ground next to her, preparing an attack of his own. "You should go with Famaer," she said sternly. "Go to safety. We will deal with this." But the Aerodactyl suddenly veered away from them, outstretching its talons towards Emphery and Toothless. The two dragons dashed away from the undead pterosaur. "No, screw you," she heard the Drakeon shout. "I am not dying now!"

Panic gripped Cynthia as the predator started to chase them away. "Go, Braviary!" she yelled, her Pokemon zooming over her head, buffeting her with a gust of wind. "Shadow Claw!" A dark aura surrounded Braviary's talons as he lunged for the beast as the four of them disappeared behind one of the caves. Cynthia's chest tightened as she ran after them, the sounds of the battle quickly growing quieter. "Legends, no..." she breathed, shock freezing her to the spot as the noises of a struggle abruptly died away, and she saw the Aerodactyl take off in the distance, dark blood staining its claws.

"Braviary!" she called, terror chilling her heart as she waited for her Pokemon to make an appearance. After a few seconds, he came swooping over the treetops and landed in front of her. Cynthia hugged him in relief, letting his soft feathers warm her. "Did you--?" she started, looking up at him.
The avian shook his head gravely. "I couldn't stop it - it-it barely even noticed my attacks! They were dead before I could do a damn thing."
"They...they're dead?" Emphrey and Toothless? Dead? "No..." Cynthia collapsed onto a slab of stone and held her head in her hands. She was supposed to protect these Pokemon...that was her duty...yet why were two of them already slain, within minutes of meeting them. "I...couldn't protect them."
Warmth embraced her as Braviary wrapped his wing around her comfortingly. "We tried. There was nothing else we could do. We..." he paused. "We need to let it go and keep going."

As blunt as her Pokemon's words sounded, Cynthia knew he was right. They had come so far, endured so much...they couldn't let one incident slow them down now. Cynthia took a deep breath as she stood up and hastily wiped away a tear. Braviary followed her she she went to rejoin the rest of the group. "You're not hurt, are you?" she quickly asked, horrified at herself for not asking sooner.
"I'm fine. Like I said, it barely noticed I was there."
"No bites?"
"No."

Upon reaching the others, Cynthia knotted her fingers together anxiously. What would they think of her, a 'Champion' who couldn't even protect them from one infected Pokemon? No...it isn't your fault. You tried! You... She balled her hands into fists and stood up tall. You're going to avenge them.
"They...didn't make it," she said, biting her lip as she fought not to cry again. "But...their deaths won't be in vain. We...we're going to avenge both of them, right here on this day. We'll avenge them and everyone else on this planet that has lost their lives to this plague. We..." Braviary stood behind her, clicking his beak as she tossed her hair away from her face. "We're ending this. Today. All of us will save this world...we'll take back the lives we once lived."

Turning to the infinite blackness of the ruin's entrance, Cynthia sighed. "I...understand if any of you want to turn back. I won't be offended if you don't want to do this. I don't know what's ahead, but if we stick together I think we'll have a good chance." She took out Braviary's Poke Ball, gave her Pokemon a pat on the head as he affectionately nipped her shoulder, and recalled him. "For those of you who want to come...let's go."

She began to descend down the stone steps.

(skip. lincoln yipped in terror and hid behind Cynthia. He's trembling violently and really fucking scared but following silently behind her.)

(I didn't even realize it was my turn. I'm so sorry; skip-- Famaer just follows Cynthia)

Everything had started out so well.

The woman had accepted him and another newcomer, a second Lucario, with relative ease. "You're both more than welcome to come along," she had said as she recalled her Fighting-type back to a Pokeball.
"My name's Lincoln," the pup near her introduced himself with a smile, and Queen practically beamed, a sense of genuine purpose returning to him once more. He had gone to the Ruins because of a thin chance he might discover desperate survivors and put to rest the ghosts of the past, yet somehow had discovered not only a group of living Pokemon but a human amongst them as well. There is a purpose here, Queen had thought then. It could not have been coincidence that all of them had met at this specific place, likely all drawn to the rare presence of a human; whether it was fate or a Legend's plan, he didn't care. Queen was determined to follow Cynthia and her Pokemon partners wherever they might go; while the woman seemed perfectly capable of defending herself, some of the other Pokemon looked ragged and weak, and might have needed his protection. His thoughts settled, Queen had begun to follow after Cynthia, walking with renewed energy and direction.

But then Queen heard the screech-bloodcurling, ripping through the air and signaling the arrival of an undead. It was an Aerodactyl, the horrific creature swooping down towards the group, claws outstretched as if it wanted to snatch them up into the air. Queen's blood turned to ice at the sight of the undead, and some part of him knew that the Aerodactyl was no ordinary predator; before his involuntary primal fear could build enough to overcome him, Queen found himself spontaneously thinking of the one named Lincoln, and of Cynthia and her Pokemon.
"Inside, NOW!" the Glaceon shouted, but Queen didn't turn back towards the tunnels of the ruins. With a low growl, he raced to Cynthia's side, his eyes locked onto the undead Aerodactyl and its movements; Queen was not going to let the beast bring any harm to anyone, and especially not the only human he had encountered in a long time. Every muscle in his body was tense and prepared to react to what Queen believed was an inevitable fight, but it never came to that. The undead targeted the two Dragon-types instead, driving them away from the rest of the group, and Queen realized the mistake he had made. His heart pounding at a desperate rate, the Linoone chased after the Aerodactyl and the dragons it had attacked, hoping and praying to any deity that he would be able to make it there in time to save the pair. But there was no point. The Aerodactyl took off into the air, not even bothering with those that remained, with the blood of the innocent Pokemon it had butchered staining its body.

Queen stared at the predator as it slowly disappeared from view, his entire body completely numb. He...he hadn't been able to do anything, he had just let them die at the hands of an undead in such a brutal fashion. What kind of guardian couldn't even protect the Pokemon around him? Suddenly he is thinking of Kat, his Kat, and how she and all of Queen's friends had died at the hands of infected Pokemon; he can barely process the pain of remembering or the words of Cynthia through his shock. As the trainer starts heading back to the rest of the group, Queen began to follow her, and the screech of the Aerodactyl and shouts of the Drakeon endlessly repeat in his head. When they reached the other Pokemon, Queen cannot bring himself to look them in the eyes, and hangs his head in immeasurable shame. This was his fault. He couldn't mess up again, and could not let anyone else here meet their end through such violence. Queen refused to allow it.

"They...didn't make it," Cynthia says, and though Queen isn't able to meet her eyes either, he listens to the words with utmost focus.
"But...their deaths won't be in vain. We...we're going to avenge both of them, right here on this day. We'll avenge them and everyone else on this planet that has lost their lives to this plague. We...we're ending this. Today. All of us will save this world...we'll take back the lives we once lived."

Again, Queen's memories of Kat resurface. Her, and everybody else he had lost...Cynthia's words are like needles stabbed into his heart, but Queen does not miss the strength behind what she had said. He couldn't give up, and to do so was an insult to his trainer, his friends, the dragons that had perished before he'd known their names. Finding the will to lift his head once more, Queen sees that Cynthia has turned towards the ruins.
"I...understand if any of you want to turn back. I won't be offended if you don't want to do this. I don't know what's ahead, but if we stick together I think we'll have a good chance." Watching as she recalled her Braviary, Queen knew that he had made his decision already. For better or worse, he was here, and there was no turning back.

"For those of you who want to come...let's go." 

Without hesitation, Queen followed after Cynthia into the ruins. What he would find there, he didn't know, but it was better than staying behind, and living with the burden of endless regret.

What do I do.  WHAT DO I DO!?

Every alarm bell in Prince's head is screeching.  Some of the extreme terror from the others has vanished, as if part of a load of weights was suddenly yanked from his chest, and he wants to vomit.  Emotions suddenly disappearing like that can mean just one thing.

I'm so sorry.  I'm so sorry.

More dead.  More bloodshed.  Oh god, will it ever end?  Can it ever end?  He wants Azelf; he wants the legend to scoop him into his arms and assure him that everything will be fine.  He wants to wake up and find out this entire ordeal has been a nightmare.  He wants to be stronger, so death doesn't absolutely destroy him the way it does.

There's a lot of things he wants, but the universe has never cared much for his wants, really.  Straightening up from the bent over position his stomach's spasms had forced him into, the Ralts wipes his mouth and gasps lungfuls of air.  Breathe.  He needs to breathe.  Just keep breathing.  There is so much terror; he can barely sort out the others' from his own.  The sorrow and guilt is not helping matters, either.

A small, frantic hand grabs at his bangs and pushes them aside.  Dizzy, he's dizzy, but his vision is steady enough to make out shapes in the distance.  A huge bird--he quails at the thought of getting close to that--a shape that definitely has to be a Lucario (no other Pokemon has those funny dread things), some smaller, four legged Pokemon he can't make out from this distance... and... and...

He takes a step forward, spellbound.  That's no Pokemon.   A human...?

His legs respond automatically, the tiny Ralts making a mad dash for the lady with the blonde hair.  He's too small though, unable to cover enough ground before she and the others disappear into the black mouth of the ruins, and the weight on his chest grows.

Not back underground, please no, please anywhere but there, gods no.  No no no no no.

But they are gone.  Probably can't hear him anymore, even if he called in after them.  Even if they could, they clearly wanted to go inside; it's doubtful they'd come out for a stranger.  Exhaling a sob and praying his death at the hands of this stupid ruins will at least be quick, Prince stumbles in after them.

At least in there he won't die all alone surrounded by this godforsaken winter.  He can exchange the sight of the stars and trees for company.

Cynthia carefully descended the stone steps, using what light she had left from outside to try and see what awaited in the blackness below. A dark underground complex...no doubt ideal areas for the undead to await in ambush of unwary explorers. She wasn't used to going anywhere without at least one of her Pokemon out to accompany her, and having all six of them in their Poke Balls made her feel uneasy. You're not alone, though, she thought, glancing over her shoulder to see almost everybody following her--

"Oh?" Cynthia noticed the little Ralts stumbling in after them and turned to face it, unable to control her smile. A Ralts! Oh gosh, they're so sweet. Her weakness for cute things had not gone anywhere, so it seemed, as she bent down to greet him.

"Hi there," she said softly, reaching out her hand to the little Pokemon to touch if he wanted to. "Would you like to come with us too, little one?" She looked over her shoulder at the rest of the steps, noticing that they were near to the bottom. I hope there's some light down there at least...a few torches wouldn't be an unusual thing to see in a place like this.

"Let's keep moving," she said, flexing her numb fingers. It somehow felt colder down here than it did outside, the darkness sucking away any warmth, any life, that may have been here before. As she reached the bottom, she saw the distant flickers of orange light that indicated that the tunnels did indeed have torches along the walls, instantly lifting some of the Champion's anxieties.

Reaching the bottom of the steps, Cynthia was faced with a long corridor lined by flame-lit torches along the walls. Stones and pieces of rubble lay scattered along the length of the wide path. Walking in a little further, Cynthia saw that the walls were covered in hieroglyphics from top to bottom, all along the length of it. She paused by it for a moment, running her fingers along the indentations. They were Unown letters.

"I see..." she mused to herself, standing back to try and read them. Remembering the group behind her that were surely confused, she turned to them and gestured to the wall. "These are Unown letters. Unown are small Pokemon that are said to dwell here, although they rarely show themselves. They're fairly harmless, but please do let me know if you see any - that could well mean that we're on to something." The wall held no words of interest, so she carried on, passing a rather ominous Rhydon statue in the middle of the corridor. She looked at its face and into its hollow, black eyes.

"Follow me, stay close and be on your guard," she told her group as she walked, staring ahead down the seemingly endless corridor. It's here...it's got to be. None of the other chambers are this size nor have half as many hieroglyphs. Keep pushing on, Cynthia...you can do it.

Cynthia had found yet another, a small creature that Lincoln did not recognise. Tilting his head to one side, he steeled his nerves and trotted up to the Ralts. "I'm Lincoln." The short introduction was all he was up to after the display that slaughtered the dragons. His tail drooped and he shot the Ralts a wounded glance before running to catch back up with Cynthia. His spirits were crushed, what was the point when that thing could come back at any second?

"These are Unown letters. Unown are small Pokemon that are said to dwell here, although they rarely show themselves. They're fairly harmless, but please do let me know if you see any - that could well mean that we're on to something," The trainer explained, but the pup was only able to half listen. Leaning one cheek against the back of her calf, the Houndrunt took comfort in the fact that at least she was strong.

"Follow me, stay close and be on your guard," Cynthia told them. Lincoln pulled away as she continued walking, watching with heavy eyes. Were they never going to exit this darkness and simply be swallowed by it?

Famaer still felt sick, even as his feet pushed him onward. Padding softly behind Cynthia's trailing coat, his mind wandered back to the horrific vision he just witnessed. The aerodactyl swooping and taking out the two dragons with ease, the sickening crack of a neck snapping... In all his time surviving the Evil that blighted the lands, he'd seldom witness such a nauseating sight. It left him in a daze that he had not experienced in a while. He knew that the Dragons were a part of the horror, but... why would they rise up and defend them? Unless it was a ploy, but how could it be? Maybe... maybe dying by one of their spawn was how they advanced to the next stage of the Evil?

It seemed that in his brooding, they'd come across a newcomer; a small, spastic ralts, from the look of it. Famaer regarded the tiny psychic fairy with distaste more than true hatred; he simply wasn't in the mood to deal with another Evil. Flicking his tail and moving past the small one, he simply followed Cynthia's form, his head hovering near her elbows. They traveled down, down, down... down into the depths until finally reaching something worthwhile. A long corridor, its ends masked by the cloak of darkness. Strange torches lit what they could in the gloom, and Famaer had to wonder what kept them lit.

The torches revealed something interesting, however; on the far wall, strange markings littered the stone from top to bottom. Cynthia immediately went to them, analyzing the odd scratches. Famaer looked to them as well; there was something familiar, yet eerie and foreboding. What in the world were these markings? He sniffed the stone as Cynthia rose from staring. "I see..." she mused, earning the old glaceon's rapt attention. "These are Unown letters. Unown are small Pokemon that are said to dwell here, although they rarely show themselves. They're fairly harmless, but please do let me know if you see any - that could well mean that we're on to something."

Famaer perked his ears and glanced to the empty, darkened hallway that led further into the ruin. Perhaps that was the eerie feeling then? These "Unown"... They certainly sounded strange and mystical. Something about the place put his hackles on edge, however, and he wasn't fond of the idea of strange pokemon he knew nothing of being able to suddenly swarm them. "Follow me, stay close and be on your guard."

Moving quietly beside Cynthia, pricking his ears at every sound he couldn't identify, Famaer found himself somewhat nervous. The sudden appearance of that demonic aerodactyl had shaken him badly; what if there was a similar monster down here, down in a place they could easily trap themselves in? Still, he allowed himself to draw upon the human's strength. It was something he had not been able to do in a long time-- trust a trainer. "...Do you know if anything else is down here?" he asked of her quietly, hoping for something reassuring. He felt that her answer would be all but that, unfortunately.

Khan felt cold and numb, as though he'd been dunked into a pool of icy water, as he followed Cynthia into the ruins. What had just happened weighed heavily on his heart; despite not even knowing those two dragons' names, their deaths had impacted the group more than he could have imagined. The auras emanating from everyone pressed onto Khan's chest, squeezed his brain, until all he could practically feel the guilt, sorrow and shock in the very air itself. He forced his twitching appendages back against the back of his skull, wishing he could just turn them off. He had his own emotions to worry about and he didn't need everyone else's burying him.

But Cynthia's words had stirred something within him; actually managed to push his growing headache away for a moment: "We...we're going to avenge both of them, right here on this day. We'll avenge them and everyone else on this planet that has lost their lives to this plague." Khan had held his breath as he listened to every syllable she said, feeling the woman's growing sense of determination and willpower flowing into him, lifting his spirits instantly. Her aura was so powerful at that moment he felt the clouds might break and let the sun through at its very force. "We...We're ending this. Today. All of us will save this world...we'll take back the lives we once lived."

She means this, Khan thought as he watched her in awe, her massive Braviary standing like a sentinel beside her. She means it with every fibre of her being ... but what does she mean?! His mind raced, trying to figure out what she could possibly be meaning to do here. He knew that these ruins were from ancient times, and he'd been here on a trip with Eva back in his youth, but other than that he didn't really understand their purpose. But Cynthia clearly did, and whatever that purpose was she was searching for it.

"I...understand if any of you want to turn back. I won't be offended if you don't want to do this. I don't know what's ahead, but if we stick together I think we'll have a good chance."
Without hesitation, Khan stepped up to her side. "I'll come." This was going to be a day to remember; Khan could feel it, and he wanted to be there to witness it, no matter what.
"For those of you who want to come...let's go."

When Khan's paws touched the cold, hard surface of the tunnel's floor, he felt a shiver tingle up his spine. His aura sensors hummed and twitched, eager to scan the environment. He watched Cynthia as she wandered over to the wall and ran her fingers over some strange indentations.
"These are Unown letters. Unown are small Pokemon that are said to dwell here, although they rarely show themselves. They're fairly harmless, but please do let me know if you see any - that could well mean that we're on to something."
Khan nodded and looked at the carvings of the bizarre little Pokemon, inclining his head with curiosity. He'd never heard of Unown before, but clearly they had a significance; a reason to be here. Khan made a mental note to keep a close eye out for them.
"Follow me, stay close and be on your guard," Cynthia instructed as they carried on into the darkness. Khan was glad that the torches along the walls had remained alight all these years; he didn't want to think how much spookier this place would be without them.
He caught up with the human, walking on her left side, the large Glaceon on the other. "I'm at your command," he said. "Anything you want of me, just say. Whatever your goal is, I will offer my life to help you achieve it." He stared into her eyes and nodded. "I feel like something amazing is going to happen. I hope that my intuition is correct."

Prince stares in awe as the human approaches, her face coming into view. She's beautiful, absolutely breathtaking. Long, wavy blonde hair; clear, strong eyes; a smile that sweeps away his fears and sorrows. His heart thuds in his chest as she reaches out to him, graceful fingers curled towards him, an invitation to take his hand. The fairy reaches forward, his hand tiny and dirty and pathetic compared to hers. Barely daring to believe it, he curls his fingers around one of hers, staring into her face.

You're celestial, like a person from those old church paintings. Are you some kind of god? There's not a scratch on her; she's clean and healthy and she's smiling. Is she untouchable? Is this human a person this epidemic can't hurt?

No... not entirely true. There is guilt and sadness; were the ones who just died her friends? He hopes not. It would be hard either way, but better to lose strangers than friends.

Burning within this woman is a determination so hot it blots out her pain. What kind of creature is she, that she can reach inside herself and dig something that powerful up? How is she so healthy and clean, so untouched by the horrors of the world?

Is she just really lucky? Or is she special?

Like that's a question he even needs to ask; he hasn't seen a human in so long. She's special just for being.

She pulls away and Prince almost cries out, reaching after her as she straightens and begins to take swift strides closer towards the darkness. He stumbles after her, his outstretched hands moving to clutch themselves at his chest. Large pink eyes glance back and forth at the others, taking in their forms. It's barely a minute and he is approached yet again. The dog is his height, and Prince stares at him, one hand raising to his mouth. Houndour can come in sizes this tiny? He doesn't look a baby, so he can't be small for lack of age...

"I'm Lincoln."

"Prince..." he whispers in an introduction. He's not sure if the pup hears him, however, given that he then looks at the Ralts with sad eyes and moves back to stand near the lady. His eyes catch the Glaceon looking at him in quiet disgust, and though the much larger creature makes no move to show his teeth or raise his hackles, Prince scurries away from him, nearly breathless in terror at the cruel look. The distaste settles into his mind like a bad taste, and he shivers, eyes darting around frantically as his arms clutch themselves. What did he do wrong?

He wastes no time in moving closer to the lady and the Lucario. Their determination, their sheer will; it's a much safer emotion to absorb than all the others. Moving closer to them means also moving closer to Lincoln, but that... that's okay. He's grieving, which is painful to be near, but at least he was friendly when he spoke to Prince earlier.

He listens with wide eyes as Cynthia describes the Unown. What is she searching for?

"I'm at your command," Prince turns and looks up at the Lucario. "Anything you want of me, just say. Whatever your goal is, I will offer my life to help you achieve it. I feel like something amazing is going to happen." The Ralts shudders. Amazing? Something amazing? What? I hope that my intuition is correct."

I hope so too, or else we're probably all gonna die. He swallows, ducking his head away and hoping the Lucario had not caught him staring.

"...Do you know if anything else is down here?" Famaer asked her, the big Glaceon padding alongside her.
"Well, I'm hoping that we won't run into too much trouble," Cynthia replied, tucking the wires dangling from her communicator into her coat. "I mean there could be undead down here, but that's going to be a possibility wherever you go, isn't it?" She glanced around her at the stone walls and arched ceiling, wondering just how much battling this place could take before it caved in on them all. "With any luck, the shrine won't be too far in."

Realising that she hadn't mentioned the shrine yet, she looked over her shoulder to explain. "According to certain sources, there is a shrine to Arceus somewhere in these ruins. Unless I'm mistaken, we can use that to get to Sinjoh." She hadn't told them about the flute either, but that story was for later on.

"I am at your command," the beaten Lucario, Khan, said from her other side. "Anything you want of me, just say. Whatever your goal is, I will offer my life to help you achieve it." Cynthia blinked at him in admiration - how noble he was. She detected not a hint of sarcasm or deceit in his voice either; he was just as committed to helping her as he sounded. "I feel like something amazing is going to happen. I hope that my intuition is correct."
Legends above, so do I, Cynthia thought to herself, but to Khan she looked straight back into his eyes and smiled. "It would be a pleasure to have you on my side, Khan. I appreciate your dedication towards me and my cause." Despite only having just met him, she felt that Khan's loyalty was something she was going to have whether she liked it or not. She wondered why he was so adamant on serving her, but was glad to have him there. By the looks of him, the Lucario had lived through many a trial of his own.

The tunnel stretched on, flickering orange lights illuminating its endlessness. Cynthia kept an eye on the walls on either side of them; surely there was a turn somewhere? She stumbled on a piece of rock, looking down to adjust her foot back into her shoe when she noticed splatters of something red on the ground. It was blood.

"Be alert," she ordered her group, deciding not to point it out to them in case they panicked. The blood was fresh, and from a living creature - its attacker could still be about.

"Prince..." the Ralts replied softly.

Lincoln could not help but think that he looked like anything but. The duel type looked like he was dragged to hell and back by a pack of Mightyena. He frowned, slowing down to stay close to the other child. The fog in his mind lifted enough for the pup to offer, "If you are too weak to walk.. I can carry you. I might be small, but that don't mean I'm weak." Whatever the child's response is, the Houndrunt stays near him, watching as Fam and the the wild Lucario, Khan, steal his spot at one of Cynthia's sides.

His pelt itched at the sight, but remained silent. He had no more claim to her than they did."...Do you know if anything else is down here?" the Glaceon asked, and Lincoln stared at the back of her head expectantly.

"Well, I'm hoping that we won't run into too much trouble."

"Me, too," he murmured quietly.

"I mean there could be undead down here, but that's going to be a possibility wherever you go, isn't it? With any luck, the shrine won't be too far in." As cynical as it sounded, Lincoln had to agree. But what about this shrine? "According to certain sources, there is a shrine to Arceus somewhere in these ruins. Unless I'm mistaken, we can use that to get to Sinjoh." Wait. Get to Sinjoh?

"What do you mean... get to Sinjoh? Don't we just..walk there?" Lincoln asked, his tone clearly reflecting his unease and lack of certainty. He was beginning to understand the shock from the others.

"I feel like something amazing is going to happen. I hope that my intuition is correct." Khan's words send a shiver down the pup's back as the lit torches continued. With a quiet yip of alarm, he bounded forward to follow right on the woman's heels.

He was beginning to get goose-flesh, and it was making the youth half wish he had stayed in the sunlight. "Be alert," Cynthia warned, and due to being closest to the ground, Lincoln saw the splatters of gore on the floor, widening his gold eyes.

Though the two small Evils were walking closely beside Miss Cynthia, Khan and himself, he refrained from snapping at them. For the human's sake. Instead, he quietly ignored them, focusing on their surroundings and Miss Cynthia's voice. "I mean there could be undead down here, but that's going to be a possibility wherever you go, isn't it? With any luck, the shrine won't be too far in." It was unfortunately true, he knew all too well. He gave a grim nod in reply. "According to certain sources, there is a shrine to Arceus somewhere in these ruins. Unless I'm mistaken, we can use that to get to Sinjoh." The phrasing confused Famaer, and he gave her a small look of bewilderment. It seemed that he wasn't the only one that noticed, however.

"What do you mean... get to Sinjoh? Don't we just..walk there?" He hated to agree, but he couldn't say he wasn't thinking the same thing. However, the conversation turned as Khan spoke of his loyalty to her cause and excitement for what was to come; Famaer wasn't completely sure he felt so eager, but knew that should he make it to the end of the journey, it would be worth the sacrifice.

He thought of his Master, of his Teacher and Companion. He missed the sweet man sorely, but knew that at least he was at the Lord's side, away from all of this death and destruction. But as he was caught in his reverie, he nearly didn't notice Cynthia's soft words from beside him. "Be alert," she cautioned, and suddenly the old glaceon was brought back to reality.

A reality that was completely covered in blood.

Famaer stared hard at the bits of gore near his feet, taking heed not to step in too much of it. "It seems fresh enough..." he muttered as he navigated through the blood. "Maybe something got down here before we did." It was a chilling thought, but only because it was plausible.

"It would be a pleasure to have you on my side, Khan," Cynthia replied with a smile. Khan felt a warmth welling up in his heart just looking at her face. "I appreciate your dedication towards me and my cause."

She'd never understand why Khan had instantly committed himself to her; sometimes he felt that he never would either, but that feeling of something great - a distant light - hadn't gone away. Perhaps it was something to do with his dream; dreaming of encountering a human and then finding one just minutes after waking up was far too strange for him to write it off as a coincidence. She was here for a reason; that was clear enough by her emotional speech after the deaths of the two dragons, and Khan would help her until she either reached her goal or he breathed his last.

What else could he live for?

"What do you mean... get to Sinjoh? Don't we just..walk there?" the small canine queried. Khan had to admit that he had a point. What was this shrine that she had mentioned? She'd made it sound as though that was the end of the line. Maybe...
"Does it have something to do with those 'Unown' creatures you mentioned earlier?" he asked curiously. She'd told them to keep a close eye out for them; perhaps they were the key, somehow.

Cynthia then appeared to stumble slightly on a rock, but quickly righted herself. She then froze, looking at the ground. Khan followed her gaze and noticed the splatters of fresh blood on the stone floor. "Be alert," the human warned. Khan immediately raised his sensors and began to scan the area ahead.

"It seems fresh enough," said Famaer. "Maybe something got down here before we did." It was a disturbing thought, but a plausible one. Khan lowered his sensors, having detected nothing in the next dozen or so yards. Judging by the scent and colour of the blood, it had come from a living creature, and recently.

"Perhaps a Pokemon was injured and came in here looking to escape its attacker," Khan said, cupping his chin in his paw. "It could be dead from blood loss by now." Or, maybe it wasn't; maybe there was an injured Pokemon in here somewhere, crying and in pain, trapped in the darkness. Khan shivered just thinking about it. "We should keep an eye out. Actively searching for it wouldn't be a good idea; we could just end up getting lost."

He sensed a pair of eyes looking at him, and found the little Ralts trying to duck out of his view. The small Pokemon's anxiety rolled off of him in waves. Khan moved to stand next to the little dual-type, giving him a nod of acknowledgement.

"If you are too weak to walk.. I can carry you. I might be small, but that don't mean I'm weak."  His eyes widen in shock, tense shoulders slackening at the offer.  Carry him?  What?

His face flushes hot with shame, the little fairy wringing the tattered edges of his skirt.  He looks that awful, huh?

Yeah.  He does.  His hands let go of the hem of his skirt as the realization washes over him.  He is pathetic.  How had he ever deserved Azelf's company, again?

"I... w-would like a ride," he mumbles, dipping his head to the pup.  Lincoln obliges, lowering his body and allowing the Ralts to scramble onto him.  Immediately he feels some relief, his body no longer needing to expend energy to try to hold him up on shaky legs.  Unsure of where to put his hands, he tentatively braces them against Lincoln's back, gnawing on his lip.  Hopefully the young dog won't mind.

He offered, didn't he?  Yes, he did.  He should be fine.

Right?

Oh gods he wishes his brain would stop for five seconds.

His brow furrows as the human mentions traveling to Sinjoh, and he shares Lincoln's sentiments.  They're already here, aren't they?

What's this about a shrine?  If Sinjoh is not here, is it secretly somewhere deeper underground?  His body begins to tremble; dear legends above not further underground.  The darkness, the suffocating darkness; it's smothering them already.  The torchlight is doing nothing to help; how in Arceus's green earth are those even still lit?  And the Unown; the Lucario brings them up and he feels his shivers intensify.  What if those strange Pokemon grow angry at their trespassing?

Wait a second Lincoln is staring at something.  What is he staring at.  Prince leans over him and his heart skips a beat.

That's blood.

"It seems fresh enough.  Maybe something got down here before we did."  The thought makes him want to puke.  Someone bleeding all alone in the dark down here?

That someone could have been me.  Oh gods...

"Perhaps a Pokemon was injured and came in here looking to escape its attacker.  It could be dead from blood loss by now." Someone else is thinking the same thing.  Is that comforting or more terrifying? "We should keep an eye out. Actively searching for it wouldn't be a good idea; we could just end up getting lost." 

"Been lost in here already," he whispers, feeling his eyes burn as terror wells up.  "Can't do that again, please not again; the darkness won't ever let you go you'll be stuck down here forever and... and..."

The world slides back into focus; he'd been staring at the Lucario again.  His breath hitches, but all the canine does is nod at him.  

He's so strong...  The Lucario's determination washes over him again.  Prince really needs to learn how to be that stoic.

The blood shouldn't have unnerved her like it did; finding gore stains all over the floor wasn't an uncommon occurrence these days. Perhaps it was the idea of an injured Pokemon hiding in here somewhere, hurting, crying, dying. Or maybe it was the possibility that whatever attacked it was still here somewhere, lurking in the shadows and awaiting another victim. Cynthia instinctively reached into her coat for a Poke Ball; she didn't care that she had a group of Pokemon at her back - she wanted one of her own by her side.

"It seems fresh enough," Famaer observed as he carefully traversed the puddle. "Maybe something got down here before we did." Cynthia merely nodded, staring into space and trying to keep her nerves under control. Her hand reached for the Poke Ball of her strongest Pokemon, not giving a hoot what the Glaceon would think of her having an 'evil' Pokemon. She couldn't afford to lose her cool now.

"Perhaps a Pokemon was injured and came in here looking to escape its attacker," Khan said from her side. "It could be dead from blood loss by now." It was a terrible thought, but Cynthia hoped that the Lucario was right. She wasn't proud of wishing death on any living creature, but she didn't want anymore distractions; nothing to steer her off course; nothing to add to her list of worries. She was doing so well to keep herself together in this hellhole of a world, and didn't want that to stop anytime soon.

"We should keep an eye out," Khan went on as Cynthia took a deep breath to calm herself and carried on down the corridor. "Actively searching for it wouldn't be a good idea; we could just end up getting lost."
"Yes, I agree," said Cynthia, making herself put her dragon's Poke Ball away. Relying on her Pokemon would make this group think that she didn't trust them, or think them worthy enough to help her, and she didn't want them to think that. They were already doing so much by just being with her. She hoped with every fibre of her being that she could improve their lives today, even if only a little. Her hand reached into her bag and clasped around the relic she had held so dearly all these weeks.

They passed another Rhydon statue, and then another a couple of minutes later. The distant light filtering in from the entrance behind them was getting dimmer by the second, the shadows growing darker. Cynthia didn't know just how deep in this shrine was. Would they have to walk for hours? Days? These ruins could be the size of a city, or their destination could be around the next corner. There was no way of knowing.

They were all wondering about the method of getting to Sinjoh in the first place, both Lincoln and Khan voicing their concern. Khan had partially guessed it right by mentioning the Unown, but even she wasn't entirely sure what would happen once she played those six legendary notes. By her knowledge of the mysterious little Pokemon, they would indeed have a role to play, given their rumored connection to Arceus. The wonder and ambiguity of the universe and how its Lord worked was beyond even her mind. She spent hours awake each night wondering why humanity was not granted His secrets, especially now, when they needed them more than ever.

But maybe that was the thing: maybe they weren't meant to know.

Indeed, her head was so busy drifting in its own little universe that she nearly didn't notice a turn in their path. "Oh, finally! I was beginning to think we'd be going in a straight line forever." She paused to examine the hieroglyphs, running her finger along the Unown-shaped indentations. Amber torchlight flickered all around them, yet another Rhydon statue staring at them from nearby. "Yes...this way, my friends."  

As she turned the corner she almost teared up at the thought of the sheer scale of what she was doing. Contacting their Creator Himself, tapping into the workings of the beyond; the darkness between the stars, all to end a plague that was ravaging His creation. She could walk away from this just as unsuccessful as she had been at the Spear Pillar, or she could be the messenger who awoke their Lord and showed him just how desecrated his world had become. Now that she was here, it was all starting to hit her.

"We can do this," she said, more to herself than to anyone else. She hastily wiped a tear and picked up her pace. She could only wish nothing else could go wrong.

"Perhaps a Pokemon was injured and came in here looking to escape its attacker. It could be dead from blood loss by now." Khan mused, Famaer twitching an ear in the fighter's direction before looking at him directly. He was grateful the other pokemon seemed sensible; especially considering their other companions-- a snarky little Evil pup and a trembling psychopath. "We should keep an eye out. Actively searching for it wouldn't be a good idea; we could just end up getting lost."

"Yes, I agree," Cynthia replied, keeping her pace brisk. Famaer didn't complain-- the sooner they were out of these strange ruins, the better. "Been lost in here already," the small Psychic begins to murmur just at the edge of Famaer's hearing. He glanced back to the little thing, eyes going distant. "Can't do that again, please not again; the darkness won't ever let you go you'll be stuck down here forever and... and..."

"Hush," Famaer growled under his breath, keeping his steely glare on the small Ralts. "Lest you unnerve everyone else." Weird psycho. He never understood or even liked the mind-bending pokemon-- for all he knew, the Ralts could have been trying to usurp their minds. He didn't know or care to find out, either; he would just rather the shivering thing keep its trap shut.

As they rounded a corner, Cynthia sprung to life, her pace picking up a little with a bounce. "Oh, finally! I was beginning to think we'd be going in a straight line forever." They came to a halt as she studied some markings on a wall, and the old glaceon couldn't help but be infected with her curiosity as well. Sniffing the markings, as if that would help discern their meaning, he looked over the old writing with interest. Whatever they meant, Cynthia was keeping mum about it-- how did she even know? Famaer couldn't master the current human written languages, much less an ancient one. The thought that Cynthia was a master linguist only made the glaceon's adoration of her grow. "Yes...this way, my friends." Looking up, Famaer followed, eager to share in the human's excitement.

Still, all the glowering statues they were crossing continued to ebb away at his sense of security. They passed each one with no event, and yet it only made him feel more and more anxious. Perhaps it was due to the Psycho's ramblings? It certainly isn't HELPING, that's for damn sure... Still, the statues continued to unnerve him. How had they gotten here? Mass production couldn't have been very utilized so long ago... Each statue must have been carved by hand. Why make them all the same? Why RHYDON, of all pokemon? If this was a shrine to the Unown or to Arceus Himself, why not have statues of them, instead? Then, a thought occurred to him as Cynthia reassured herself under her breath.

"I wonder if Rhydon were meant as sentinels when this was built," he observed, looking on the statues with new light. "Humans did that, didn't they? Put statues of intimidating pokemon or monsters to fend off looters? They're large, formidable and made of stone-- maybe they were meant to be guardians of the shrine. Which means the further we get to the shrine, the more we should see." He turned to the human, hoping to be correct. "Right?"

The atmosphere was tense as they continued down the stone hallway; even Cynthia seemed unnerved. Khan admired the woman's ability to keep her cool, and maintain her position as head of the group despite the fact that they could very easily be walking straight into grave danger. The Lucario's fists were clenched, his jaw firmly clamped as he scanned the shadows for any signs of movement.

"Been lost in here already," the little Ralts whimpered from atop Lincoln's back. "Can't do that again, please not again; the darkness won't ever let you go you'll be stuck down here forever and... and..."

"I do not think that Cynthia came down here with the intention of getting lost," Khan said, turning to the small dual-type. "Don't fear; nobody here is alone anymore."

Up ahead was a corner, and Cynthia noticed this with enthusiasm. She paused a moment to examine the walls, once again etched with those strange Unown markings. Khan inclined his head at Cynthia as she looked at them; could she really read them? It looked as though she was doing just that. They just looked like odd shapes to him. He knew, though, that the humans had their own alphabet; maybe the Unown resembled that in some way? Or maybe she had just spent enough time studying the Unown to decipher them. Either way, Cynthia knew what she was doing; Khan could tell that just by looking at her, and that fact put the Lucario at a far greater ease.

But as they carried on round the corner, Khan's sensors suddenly jolted to life as a new and unfamiliar aura reached him. He strained to see it, squeezing his eyes shut to seek out its most important detail: its colour. Blue was good; red was bad. Eventually he found it, shining a brilliant azure blue in the distance.

"There is a Pokemon nearby," he calmly informed the group. "It's alive."

"Hush.  Lest you unnerve everyone else."  The ice fox is glaring at him, and Prince wraps an arm around his stomach as the organ threatens rebellion from the sheer stress of that steely gaze.  

The Lucario is far kinder, his eyes gentle as he looks down at the fairy. "I do not think that Cynthia came down here with the intention of getting lost." Prince blinks up at him; those eyes are so calm and kind.  For a moment he could swear they aren't red, but gold, and the notion sends his pounding heart into a somewhat slower rhythm. "Don't fear; nobody here is alone anymore." 

"Th-thank you." It's barely a whisper, but he hopes the nod of respect will get his point across.  Lucario sense emotion, right?  Or... no... wait, they see them.  In the form of auras.  Maybe the Lucario will see the gratitude that Prince cannot find out how to express.  He can hope.

The corridor turns sharply.  Relief perks up the human's features and the sweet taste of the emotion settles itself softly in his mind, soothing away a little of his anxiety.  "Oh, finally! I was beginning to think we'd be going in a straight line forever."  Strange symbols mark the wall and the lady pauses to look them over, touching them as if they can reveal their secrets to her through feeling their raised forms on the stone walls.  Her face is half hidden in the flickering torchlight, the light caught in her blonde hair as she steps forward, running her finger across the symbols, and once again Prince wonders if she is some kind celestial being.

"Yes...this way, my friends."  His heart leaps.  "Friends?"  And she knows where she is going.

Hope is an intoxicating thing, and a welcome relief after all that anxiety.

Lincoln keeps pace with the lady and the Lucario, putting the little fairy at their feet.  The Glaceon is a little further away, inspecting the Rydon statues.  Prince shivers as he stares at them.  Creepy.

"I wonder if Rhydon were meant as sentinels when this was built." Sentinels?  Like... guardians?  They're... statues.  They can't guard anything, right?  ... Right?  "Humans did that, didn't they? Put statues of intimidating pokemon or monsters to fend off looters? They're large, formidable and made of stone-- maybe they were meant to be guardians of the shrine."  Oh god that sounds terrifying.  "Which means the further we get to the shrine, the more we should see.  Right?"

They're just statues.  If humans made them to be creepy then they're just creepy statues.  Nothing supernatural about them, they're not looking at him, no no no they're not...

Did one of them just blink?  Oh gods...  His hope is evaporating and he wants to scream.  Pink eyes dart around desperately, seeking something comforting, and they snap to the Lucario as the canine tenses.

"There is a Pokemon nearby." Prince's mouth opens slightly, eyes widening. "It's alive."

Another survivor?

Here?  Alone in the crazy shadow cast by the torches?

Are you the one who bled everywhere?

The thought makes him sick.

Gold eyes fix themselves on the Rydon statue across from him as the small body lays there, laying against the wall, panting.  Azelf's little chest heaves from exertion, a shaking hand moving the scarf pressed to his side, tired gold eyes moving down to glance at the wound.  A wince splits his face at the sight of the mass of congealed blood, the claw marks barely visible through the gross red gunk.

Oh yes.  That's bad.  Not the worst he's ever had, but bad.

He doesn't bother reaching for the Ledyba backpack sitting next to him-- there are no Sitrus or Oran berries in there, and the only other item inside is a blanket.  The Legend does stare at it, however, not for the first time wondering about the child who previously owned it.  

Who were you?  Where are you now?  Your family?  What became of you?

They're probably dead.  The thought settles on his chest like a weight, and he closes his eyes.

He slips back into consciousness to persistent but varying sounds in the distance.  ... Are those... voices...?

The shock sends him sitting upright, muffling a noise of pain as agony stabs through his side.  Dizzy and sick, fear rising in his foggy mind, he casts an illusion... but no amount of illusion can hide that injury, even though he now appears to the world as a Ralts.  He goes to move, and finds himself too disoriented.  Too much blood loss-- he is no longer bleeding much, but enough damage has been done to render him weak.

Oh Father... all he can do is hope that if he puts enough sheer concentration into it, he can teleport away if they prove to be hostile...

(UGH CHILD OF MINE IT'S SO GOOD TO HAVE YOU BACK IT'S BEEN OVER A FUCKING YEAR.)

Cynthia was glad when Famaer begin to muse to himself about the Rhydon statues; it gave her an excuse to take her mind off things for a moment and do what she did best - ramble about mythology. At least, her friends at HQ called it rambling; she'd have referred to it as 'educating'.

"Well," she began, looking at the Glaceon, "according to many of the texts that I've read, Rhydon was the first Pokemon to be successfully tamed by humans. This was many millennia ago of course, before these ruins were built. Apparently, with the help of their new companions, these humans built this temple and the others surrounding it as a means of celebration of the union between them and the creatures they shared the world with; the Pokemon. They believed that this would bring them closer to Arceus, and they held many a festival here in his honor." Clutching her bag strap, she lowered her head and sighed. "I bet they were wonderful. How I'd love a chance to be able to attend one."

She lost herself in her daydreams for a moment before she noticed Khan suddenly stop and tense beside her. He appeared to be scanning the environment for auras, much like her own Lucario did. "Is something wrong?" she asked, instinctively reaching for a Poke Ball. Oh please...don't let it be the undead.

"There is a Pokemon nearby," the jackal said, his eyes tightly shut as his sensors buzzed. "It's alive."

"It is?" What a relief that was. Cynthia felt herself calming down, but kept her Poke Ball near to her grasp just in case; just because it was healthy didn't mean that it was friendly. I wonder if it's the Pokemon that left all that blood!" she realised, looking back to the Lucario with a new resolve. If there was an injured Pokemon around here, it was her duty as a Trainer to help it. "Can you show me where it is, Khan?"

(Skip, Lincoln froze then gently set Prince on the floor. He whispered, "I'm sorry," and ran back the way they came. It will be a leaving post.)

"I wonder if it's the Pokemon that left all that blood!" Cynthia cried, mirroring Khan's thoughts exactly. It really couldn't be anything else. The Trainer looked at him, determination flashing through her eyes. "Can you show me where it is, Khan?"

The Lucario concentrated, crafting himself a mental path that led straight to the aura. It wasn't as far away as he'd anticipated, and appeared to be hiding in some sort of alcove further down the corridor. "Yes. This way." Khan took the lead, dashing down the stone halls, eyes still tightly closed as his sensors did all the seeing for him. As he got closer, he began to experience a strange feeling. The aura was strong; far stronger than any normal one. It shone with a fantastic, azure blue light that Khan was sure would've blinded him if he could see it with his eyes. But the shape of the creature was nothing out of the ordinary; it was something small. A Pichu? A Ralts?

Skidding to a halt beside the alcove where the Pokemon was hiding, Khna opened his eyes to see that it was, indeed, a Ralts. But why was its aura as powerful as it was? Khan's heart began to pound as a realisation struck him, and he staggered back against the wall as the full force of the Pokemon's aura hit him, nearly knocking him off his feet.

That's--!

The lady's words enthralled the small fairy, but as much as he would have loved such a history lesson, the setting did not allow him to enjoy it as much as he would have ohterwise.

A pity, really, as Prince would have liked it much more if they were not in an underground hallway with creepy torches and arguably creepier Rydon statues. The humans who built this did it as a tribute? Why on earth did they make them look so scary then!?

By the time the Lucario drew the lady's attention on him, the monologue had lulled him just a touch-- her voice is a soothing one, and her happy excitement had given the fairy some positive emotions to chew on rather than stewing in his own terror.

But now the Lucario senses something, a living Pokemon, and the fear is back full force.

"I wonder if it's the Pokemon that left all that blood!" So, she thinks the same. His heart sinks.

And then drops as the canine whose back he was resting on gently plucks him off. Prince goes to protest, to ask what he did wrong, but Lincoln only looks at him with scared, mournful eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"W-wai-" But the pup was already gone. The exchange was so quiet and so fast that the Lucario didn't notice it. Prince can do nothing but stand there, reeling from shock.

It's the lady's voice that draws him back in. "Can you show me where it is, Khan?"

Khan. So that's his name. Prince clings to it as if this could keep the jackal from leaving the way Lincoln did. Lincoln why did you go; what did I do? I'm sorry, I'm really sorry...

"Yes. This way." He takes off running. Panic squeezes the Ralts's chest and he bolts forward, desperate not to be left behind. A decent runner when healthy, Prince is anything but and even the rush of adrenaline can't save him here; he falls flat on his face within seconds before scrambling to his feet and running after the others as fast as he can. A pokemon he may be, but he's no match for the others' longer legs and better health, and he's soon left behind, sheer terror pushing him forward, the group's echoing footsteps his guide.

(Anyone has permission to pick Prince up and carry him; I can just edit this post with that information if someone chooses to do so.)