Chapter Text
It was a tumultuous journey across Hisui's skies.
Directions shouted over screeching winds, Dawn tightened her hold around Gliscor's shoulders as they started to descend, breaching through the high mountains and entering rocky plains. Her lungs could finally grasp a full intake of oxygen once the massive peaks began to loom over them in the distance.
Not long now. Just an hour's flight more if they were lucky.
A mental clock ticked past the two hour mark in their journey, like fine sand dripping down from its glass ever so slowly, taunting, berating, beckoning.
Dawn dared a cautious glance down onto the earth below, staring blankly towards a canvas of water flooding over the sloping fields of gravel and rock. The currents led to a river by the mountain's foot, curving downstream towards the greater lake hugging east of the Highlands. That should curb the grassy plains across from too much harm for now, she hoped. Apart from the blackened circles dotted about the land in random intervals, the faint scent of smoke tangible from even up here.
Nature was drowning before her very eyes.
Gliscor's chittering dragged her back up, and Dawn tucked her head close to the bat's neck to lessen the drag. Her scarf had been pulled in to lay under her as well.
The Ancient Retreat was just over the next ring of mountains north of them. A quaint spot hidden well in its own paradise shielded from the brunt of most disasters. It was a place obscured to the untrained eye.
Dawn could only hope that Cogita wouldn't mind another visit so soon.
There wasn't time to waste, yet caution must be heeded lest the foundations toppled. Whatever Arceus meant in its puzzling message must surely be an answer staring right at her face. That was always the case with these riddles. She merely lacked the eyes to perceive it.
The pieces laid before her, disconnected as they were, implied a greater meaning that led to a dead end no matter how Dawn tried to string the evidence.
A mysterious pokemon under Volo's command. Ingo's kidnapping by his nefarious hands. Togekiss' feather. The thunderstorm. None of it seemed to line up perfectly well, and Dawn couldn't accept anything less than perfect.
Volo had somehow managed to capture something powerful—or at the very least earned its favour. He had attacked Ingo in the middle of the night for reasons still undetermined for certain, leaving behind traces of a struggle between his own pokemon. There were no key witnesses to question, merely accounts taken from a safe distance, a unanimous agreement that there is something undocumented roaming Hisui lands. Something that has somehow remained undetected.
That only gave credence to Volo's ownership of it, however. Perhaps he'd captured it in a poke ball? Dawn was of the impression that such a pokemon would be rather massive in size. That was the trend she'd figured amongst her growing party of legends, at least.
Her face scrunched up before letting out a few sneezes, each one aimed into the sleeve of her uniform. A violent shiver crept up her entire body afterwards, pins and needles jabbing at every extremity as well as the inside of her skull. The cold was starting to get to Dawn, unfortunately.
But she couldn't stop now! Certainly not with Ingo in peril. She was so close, she could feel it. There was just something missing in her pile of evidence. Something simple, undoubtedly, infuriatingly. A whisper in her swollen mind suggested that it was merely a few words she needed to string to solve this madness.
And by Arceus above, if it was something so obvious this entire time... Dawn will not hesitate to unleash Darkrai upon Volo's sorry life for all eternity.
"Gliscor!" A screech brought her attention back to reality.
"Are we here?" She certainly hoped they were. Judging by their speeding descent towards a faint trail of smoke, Dawn let out a raspy sigh.
She was off before Gliscor's feet had touched down properly, landing in a puddle ankle-deep and splashing them both with mud. Neither took much offence to that in favour of running towards the lone tent stood within the small area between the valleys and knocked.
It took only four seconds for Cogita to answer.
"Oh! Back again so soon?" She asked, already stepping aside to allow them entry.
"We just came from the Highlands," Dawn said, wringing her scarf before taking off her boots. She was positively sick of them by now. Gliscor eyed the historian with a bit of caution, his natural grin petering off to a flat show of sharpened fangs. It was her hair, her eyes, her mellow smile.
Dawn ran a cold hand along one of Gliscor's pincers. "It's alright. She's not going to hurt us."
"Definitely not." Even Cogita couldn't help but chuckle at the absurd thought.
"Sorry again, if I came at a bad time. I just—we've just found out about some things," the girl began. "But first, I suppose I should introduce you."
She laid a hand on Gliscor's back before gently nudging him closer, much to his chagrin. "This is Gliscor. He's actually one of Ingo's pokemon. I found him up in the Highlands where that mysterious pokemon had first been presumed to be. And Gliscor, this is Cogita. She's related to Volo, I think. She knows a lot about Hisuian myths and legends."
Maybe it was a little amusing watching Gliscor silently judge the historian, as if a million thoughts were swirling about in his mind and over half of them involved Volo himself. The resemblance between them was rather striking, really.
He eventually offered Cogita a pincer, chittering quietly, having deemed her a friend for now, it seemed.
The second she took it into hand and shook lightly, Dawn continued on. "Anyway, I'm not sure if you've got any knowledge about this, but I need to ask..."
The girl reached into her satchel and pulled out her arc phone, tapping at the screen to reveal the latest message sent to her.
She held it out for Cogita to read, untrusting of her own interpretation. It was best to present the evidence through an unbiased lens first. "Do you have any clue what this might mean?"
She was hoping for a clear-cut answer. A yes or no; or even a maybe at this point. Her head was starting to cramp up with all this thinking. Dawn could swear that she was slowly falling off the deep end with every passing hour.
Cogita hummed as she read through the message. Once, then twice, then three times. "This is most certainly a puzzling message," she decided.
"Tell me about it."
"However," the historian continued, finger to chin as she started towards her table on the other end of the tent. A hand motioned for both Dawn and Gliscor to make themselves comfortable whilst she picked up an open book laying over a stack of parchment. "I've since conducted my own research after you first left, dear. While I can't say much about the message you've been sent, I do believe I have come across a lead that might possibly provide us with definitive answers."
"Are you serious?" Dawn quickly plopped down on one of the chairs with Gliscor in tow, ignoring the relief of her legs to examine each of the pieces of parchment with wonder and excitement.
Cogita joined her on the other side, flipping through her book bound in something resembling hardened paper and thick cords of sturdy rope. "Indeed. In fact, darling, I must say that a part of your riddle could potentially confirm my suspicions in its entirety."
"Well, then, spill it!" Dawn exclaimed, cracking an ear-to-ear grin upon her frozen face. Her heart was very well pounding against her ribs, flushing her pale, frigid skin with a dusting of pink.
Taking a stray piece of parchment, Cogita reached for her quill and wrote out the message. This would most certainly be useful in arguing her case. Her book was laid back on the table and pushed towards Dawn, allowing her a few moments to scan the paragraphs before she repeated the words.
"Humans gifted with... psionic powers?" The term felt foreign on her tongue, much like the phrases often spoken by most Hisuian's she'd met.
"It refers to those capable of the extraordinary," Cogita explained. "Teleportation, telekinesis, telepathy, others of the like. Although, this chapter only focuses on psychic-type phenomenon. It's most prevalent within the Kanto region. I believe the more popular term is Hex Maniac within the borders of Kalos and Hoenn, relating to those possessing ghost-like abilities instead."
"I think I've heard of them," Dawn mumbled under her breath. Should memory serve her well, there was a member of Hoenn's Elite Four that claimed herself a master of ghost-types and all their wonders, wasn't there? Even the odd rational here and there had been tested of their superstitions by her at least once.
The historian nodded along. "This world we live in is rather strange in many regards. Even us humans can learn to wield the paranormal should we dedicate ourselves to it, but it's quite a common taboo amongst many a region."
"So... you think Ingo's some... Hex Maniac? Or whatever it was?" If Dawn were to be honest, that would be quite the anticlimactic answer if it were the case.
"I wouldn't go around labelling those who I've not personally met," Cogita stressed. How foolish it would be if she were to assume herself correct despite never seeing Warden Ingo in person. "No, dear, I've merely started on this path because of a small bit of information I've heard being rumoured about him. His eyes happen to glow when it's dark, do they not?"
"I mean, yeah, they do, but even he doesn't know why."
"Well, such a trait is strictly what most would consider out of the ordinary, but I would like to know if there are any more strange happenings tied to him before I continue down my theory with you, if that's alright."
Anymore? Well, there was certainly no shortage of them.
Dawn ran her fingers through her damp hair, propping up her elbow as her eyes stared down onto the pages set before her. "Uhhh, to start, I suppose the most obvious thing I've noticed is that he's always... staticky? Is that the right word? Like, whenever I touch him, it always ends with my hair floating and a Drifloon or two getting stuck to me for a while. He feels like there's always electricity running through him. A thrumming, I guess? But no one's managed to confirm it because, well, Ingo sort of strays away from contact with people if he can help it."
The warden hadn't ever placed a comment whenever Dawn had pestered him about it. Vague was the best response she could possibly get, either a brush off of it being Pearl Clan culture or a mere preference for personal space. Something, something, the man that looked like him, and something else that flew by Dawn's head.
"To go with all that, I suppose I should mention that he especially doesn't like touching certain pokemon for whatever reason." The memory suddenly occurred to Dawn upon questioning. "Yeah... he stays away from Sylveon but doesn't mind my other pokemon—especially Luxray. It's a little weird."
"That could merely be explained by an ill impression he's experienced beforehand," Cogita reasoned. Avoidance of most pokemon in general wasn't such a rarity within these lands, after all.
"I guess you're right about that."
Dawn scratched her head absently.
"Another thing I can think of is how he gets sick during storms. Always. I don't exactly pay attention to the details, but he shuts himself off whenever there's thunder out. Headaches, nausea, complaints about things being too loud and noisy and how it feels like there are hundreds of Wurmples crawling over him. It's bizarre."
She could only hope that he wasn't in too much pain now, with the second week of this disaster already having passed.
"And the second most obvious thing about Ingo is that he's—what do you call it... able to talk to pokemon as well?" It came out more as a question to herself than anything, as if saying it aloud for once finally cemented how strange it truly was, even for her standards. "I don't mean just understanding body language or whatever. Like, I swear, he actually talks to them sometimes, as you would with any other person."
The girl could remember reading an article back home—her real home—detailing a disaster having struck Unova a few years back. An evil organisation advocating for pokemon rights being ousted as a front for global domination for a king of some kind. He'd been rumoured to be able to communicate with pokemon, too, if Dawn's mind wasn't making the entire memory up. Unovan news was decently prevalent around the globe either way, though one could certainly avoid coming across a single hint of it if they weren't at all bothered by international scandals.
Cogita took all the information into consideration, carefully sifting it through with the research she'd dug up. Communicating with pokemon was an ability tacked onto a slippery slope of legitimacy. Such an ability was difficult to prove, difficult to characterise, often shoved aside as witchcraft by the weary and old. Does the pokemon—singular or otherwise—possess telepathy in any way? That in itself was an astounding feat of discovery more so than shinies. Has the human in question lived amongst pokemon their entire lives? If so, just what could've happened to result in such a tragic situation? Or, perhaps, if Cogita were to be so bold to ask, maybe they should remove the intermediary in this regard.
"May I ask, dear, just to be certain. What colour are Warden Ingo's eyes?"
Dawn raised a brow at that. "If this is about the riddle, then yeah, they're silver."
"Well, then, I believe we have our lead," Cogita declared proudly.
"Really?" It wasn't much progress at all, if Dawn had to be honest. A start, most definitely, but a crawl in place of the leap she wanted.
They'd practically only confirmed the obvious.
Ingo was, under no sane doubt, weird.
The historian pulled together a few stray pieces of parchment along the table, dipping her quil lightly into her ink bottle before scraping the excess off the rim, gliding the tip over her notes with a gentle smile and a satisfying scratch.
Once she was done with that, Cogita motioned towards the book in front of Dawn. "May I?"
The girl shrugged her shoulders and nudged it forth.
The pages flipped with a hand bending its back and a thumb pressed lightly at the worn-off edges, stopping only at a bookmark in the form of another strip of parchment.
"I apologise if nothing is making much sense to you, dear, but this is a rather complicated mystery for how simple it is," Cogita said, and her eyes glided over to Gliscor's bored and bewildered expression. If she were to describe it as best she could, she would compare her search to be one of back alley deals and numerous connections. Information that wasn't readily available to even the most astute, if she would.
The book she possessed had been sourced from a rather strange encounter with a member of the Ginkgo Guild, surprisingly enough. A few months into the start of Hisui's craze over the rupture above Coronet, long before there came news of anyone falling from anywhere.
It had been a steal, really. The merchant had claimed it a piece of decoration not worth any practical use whatsoever, but Cogita saw the shine of gold hidden under all the dirt and grime and purchased it without a second's pause to ensure it wasn't a mere scam. A rather uncharacteristic move on her part, but she supposed it must've been fate that it would serve wonderfully for Arceus' blessed child now.
Scanning her eyes through the page to ensure that it was correct, Cogita turned it around and presented it back to Dawn before she explained her thesis. "I believe Warden Ingo may well and truly be a reincarnation of sorts."
Depicted in faded ink was the silhouette of a human, as simple as one could be, with a small flame burning in the place of a heart.
"The rest of this book leans heavily on the speculatory," the historian admitted, "but it does present reasonable arguments within cited texts of folktale. The basic premise claims that a select few pokemon—most notably ones of significance—wield the unique power to completely change their forms into whatever they deem fit. It is a much more thorough transformation than a mere Zoroark's illusion. The book says that these... disguises, if I were to name them, are still capable of wielding whatever power they would normally possess, regardless of their shape. A pokemon soul inhabiting a human body of their own creation."
That seemed like a cut and dry case, wasn't it? Evidence and personal accounts stacked entirely in the historian's favour. She would even dare to brag that it was almost too easy if the situation weren't as dire as it seemed.
Dawn stared at what was presented before her very eyes and ears, agape, as if her brain had tried to follow Cogita's pace and ultimately crashed in its efforts.
Never in her life had such a concept been brought upon her. Sure, there may have been plenty of stories regarding cross-breeding of all things, the odd cult of psychics indeed possessing telekinetic powers, and even the unfortunate cases of children getting lost in Eterna Forest and being taken in by wild pokemon.
Nothing ever hinted at shapeshifting being a possibility.
Save for Dittos, of course, but that was an entirely separate can of Wurmples.
It was just difficult, Dawn supposed. Difficult in the way that her eyes were used to seeing Ingo under the light of a skilled trainer unmatched by most others in Hisui. He was a warden, too. He was from the future, too.
And now the girl had to tack on the title of pokemon to his image? That would be too much for even her comprehension. Apparently frenzied nobles and shattered skies were childsplay in comparison, according to her brain.
Her fingers reached forth to pinch at the bottom of the page before flipping, showing her another wall of scribbled text surrounding some symbols she could not be bothered to take in.
Her lips moved all on their own, speaking her mind aloud. "I can't believe this..."
And neither could Cogita, in truth. "This is most certainly an unprecedented discovery."
"I mean—don't get me wrong, it makes sense," for as little as she could wrap her head around it, "I just had no idea that this is even a thing that can be done."
Pokemon of astounding significance wielding the power to blend in and live amongst humans? That can't be right. Unless Dawn had been utterly blind to the going-ons inside the pastures, absolutely none of the legends she owned acted even remotely close to what could be considered 'civilised'. Stars above, that fragment of Arceus prefers to spend its days staring at a blade of grass if it wasn't being directly commanded in battle. Anyone else would be dubbed a lunatic for doing the same. For Ingo to fit in relatively well, he had to have been living amongst humans for quite a significant amount of time before being pulled into Hisui.
That in itself was... bizarre.
Cogita hummed as she spread out her pile of parchment. "I suppose it is a safe bet to assume Warden Ingo to be electric-type, then, according to your claims relating to such. It would explain his sickness during times of thunderstorms as well, should his status indeed fall under the category of legends. I have reason to suspect the average human body could handle much of a legend’s power."
She turned towards Gliscor, who had perked up from their discussion like an Eevee being presented sweet treats. "Gliscor, dear, can you perhaps confirm this suspicion for us?"
His enthusiastic nod was accompanied by the widest grin he could muster. His pincers clapped against each other as if he was congratulating them, his barbed tail wagging behind with the energy of a Growlithe.
"Did—did all of his pokemon know?" Dawn blanched as the thoughts began to flood in. Had Sneasler known, too? Was that why she'd picked him as warden despite her reputation for being extremely selective? Was this common knowledge to all those Ingo had interacted with? Was that how he'd managed to convince wild alphas to come in for a battle in the training grounds?
Why didn't they tell him, then, if he was able to understand them perfectly well? Amnesia couldn't possibly be an excuse on that front. Or was it denial that enabled his obliviousness.
Unless, of course, he already knew.
A deep breath in... and out.
"What're these people—or pokemon—called again?" Dawn was almost afraid to ask.
"There isn't a proper term for them as this is all purely theoretical," Cogita said. "But perhaps we can look towards your message for an answer."
Seek out thine Aspect bound in chains of red.
Ingo... was something called an aspect?
Pokemon of significance wielding the power to change their shape. Legends, perhaps. Those capable of destroying entire regions if they so wished, incomparable to the ordinary.
The thunderstorm had started the night he disappeared.
Sneasler's claim of Volo having come in search of Ingo.
The scuffle. Gliscor's poke ball. Togekiss' feather. The enormous trail.
And he was bound in chains of red.
Oh.
So there was another legend roaming Hisui's lands. There had been for a while. A long, long while.
Static rushed into Dawn's ears as her vision bled red, brighter than that of even an alpha.
"I'm gonna kill him," she growled, low and dangerous, every draw of breath like a whistle of steam escaping from her nose. "I'll find where he's hiding and sic Arceus on him to do its worst. He wants to meet his precious god so badly? I'll let him!"
Cogita narrowed her eyes and arched her brow. "I... think that's a bit of an overreaction, dear. There's no need to threaten harm on Warden Ingo for keeping secrets such as these."
But Dawn only snapped up and stared, as if she'd just remembered the historian was there. She was matching her confusion as well, before it clicked. "No—I don't mean Ingo! I'm talking about Volo! He's the one who kidnapped him and started this whole mess!"
And suddenly, this whole situation had been shed the light of ten suns.
It wasn't as surprising as it was infuriating, Volo being charged with yet another act of destruction unfathomable to the everyday man. First the shattered skies of Giratina's making, and now this. If he had somehow managed to salvage the shards of the red chain left in the ruins of the Temple of Sinnoh, then that must mean he has already written up another script to follow down.
Who else, after all, could go through all that effort of sourcing a hidden legend and succeeding in capturing it?
"So that must mean this storm we face is a direct display of the warden's might," Cogita mumbled. If she were an optimist, she would consider it good news. "You should be able to seek help from the Galaxy Team, then, is that right?"
"What? No. Definitely not." Damp locks of stray hair flipped about as Dawn shook her head. Oh, how she could already envision the chaos that would ensue, both the terrible and inexcusable. Another fad about the fallers having driven Hisui into calamity—except this time it was true, in a sense, should people merely read the blaring headlines before sharpening their pitchforks.
Abandonment, betrayal, threats of violence upon sight, Dawn shuddered as the memories trickled in. No amount of pity disguised as a want to help will ever be seen as genuine.
Ingo didn't deserve any of that.
"This has to stay a secret, Cogita," Dawn said in a trembling voice, almost in a hush as if she feared they could be overheard. "No one can know about this. If they do, they'll hunt him down! I can't even imagine how Kamado of all people will react, but it definitely won't be anything good."
He'd sent her off into the wild under evidence of assumptions born from his own paranoia. If he was perfectly willing to throw a fifteen-year old out to solve a divine issue, there was no telling what he'd come up with for a legend posing as human—an aspect—no matter Ingo's status.
The historian reached over to place a hand atop of Dawn's shoulder, comforting the girl as much as she knew how. "You have my word, darling. Nothing discussed will leave this tent."
Gliscor leaned in to rub his cheek along Dawn's arm, sensing the tension screwed tight like a Psuduck's migraine set to burst.
Ingo's secret will stay closely guarded.
A small wisp in Dawn's mind set alight with a question as to what he truly was. An electric-type legend hailing from Unova has got to be specific enough to narrow their search down, wouldn't it? It certainly couldn't be that hard to find his true identity now. Not to judge, but to understand. Whether the warden already knew about all this or not ultimately mattered little to Dawn.
Fascination will bloom over trepidation soon enough, once Volo has been taken down a second time and things return to the normal she so desperately craved.
For now, there was a need to plan, to think, to search for the madman and his whereabouts before any more harm could come across Ingo.