Chapter Text
The day was particularly nice, even for the normally warm weather of the Cobalt Coastlands.
High upon the Veilstone Cape, Palina sat with her legs folded primly beneath her. Her two Growlithe companions sat on either side of her, like the watchful statues carved into the Snowpoint Temple. None were here to enjoy the fair weather. All solemnly looked upon the rocky headstone that decorated the cliffside’s peak.
Here rests the spirit of the Lord of the Isles, the great and noble Arcanine…
Beside Palina, the smaller of the two Growlithe whimpered softly, resting his head on his paws. Palina reached out to stroke her fingers through the coarse fur of his mane. She didn’t offer placating words. No words could soothe the ache in both their hearts.
While she knew the little lord felt guilty for his great father’s death, in truth Palina felt herself entirely to blame for the loss of the Lord of the Isles.
I was his warden, she thought bitterly, tears welling into her eyes even as she blinked them away. If only I had tried harder. I should have swam after little Growlithe myself.
The summer storms of the Coastlands were always nasty things, but the storm on that horrible day had been particularly vicious. Palina remembered how the water had churned as though agitated by the tail of an alpha Gyarados. The winds had screamed in her ears. She and Lord Arcanine had often walked the beaches during such storms, searching for injured people and pokemon on the shoreline.
That day, the young pup had walked alongside them, learning as he followed in his father’s footsteps. When a massive wave had smashed against the shore and swallowed up the little Growlithe, Palina had been frozen in shock.
Lord Arcanine had acted before it had even sunk in what had happened, plunging into the waves after the pup’s desperate cries.
Palina had leapt into the water after them, and had nearly drowned herself. If Iscan and Basculegion hadn’t happened to be nearby, and managed to rescue herself and Growlithe…
It was exactly one year now, since that day.
Palina and her two Growlithe companions climbed the ridge every day since then, placing fresh flowers upon the fallen Lord’s grave. They had chosen the place high upon the cape, so that his spirit could look across the coast he had ruled.
Fresh tears sprang to her eyes, a grim day made even more bitter by the argument with Irida before she and Growlithe had departed from the Pearl Clan’s settlement.
“Lina? It’s been a year now. The elders are more concerned than ever. People are talking. We must have a new noble to guard the coast!”
Palina curled her hands into fists where they rested in her lap. She loved Irida like a little sister. They had both competed for the position of Clan Head. She knew better than anyone what was at stake, to have one of the ten Great Nobles gone. But how could Irida be so cruel? To force Growlithe through the rigorous training he would need to step up to the role of Noble, with his broken heart… Palina couldn’t bear it.
This wasn’t the first time she’d fought with Irida on the matter, and it wouldn’t be the last.
Palina brushed her tears away furiously. She didn’t want to grieve with her companions with angry thoughts buzzing in her head. Lord Arcanine deserved more. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, using her other senses to feel almighty Sinnoh’s space around her. Reveling in her god’s creation and feeling the world around her had always soothed her agitated nerves.
The steady roar of the sea. The calls of the Staravia with their young as they skimmed the cerulean water, searching for a meal. The soft whistle of the wind though the grass and trees around her, carrying the heavy scent of the ocean. Palina could even hear the wild Growlithe in the distance, yapping playfully as they bounded through their grassy territory.
“Growow!” Beside her, the larger Growlithe barked to his brethren in the distance. It brought a smile to Palina’s lips as she carded her fingers through the young lord’s fur.
“Snea! Sneasler!”
Well. That definitely wasn’t a call one normally heard in the Cobalt Coastlands.
Palina opened her eyes and turned away from the headstone as her bigger Growlithe friend stood and barked down the slope.
Several yards behind her, the lithe and pale form of what could only be Lady Sneasler stood watching them. Her feathery plume fluttered in the wind as she stared at them with an unreadable expression, red eyes sliding from the barking Growlithe to her. Palina hastily stood, bowing to the Noble. “Lady Sneasler… what an unexpected surprise. What brings you here?”
What was she doing here? Lady Sneasler rarely ever left the Coronet Highlands. Her kind preferred the solitude of the high crags.
The pokemon in question regarded them a moment more, then turned her head away to look down the path and huffed an irritated noise.
Palina took a step back. Lady Sneasler had always been the most temperamental of the Pearl Clan’s Nobles. Her ever-changing whims and short temper had frustrated the clan’s elders. She had refused to acknowledge any they brought before her as warden candidates for several years before Ingo had joined the clan. If the Highlands Noble was somehow annoyed by Palina’s presence here, then it would be best for her and her Growlithe to retreat. She didn’t want to anger the fussy Noble further.
Before she could apologize or retreat, Sneasler turned and yowled down the slope.
A few moments later, Palina could see a figure climbing up the pathway. Even from this distance, she recognized Warden Ingo’s tattered black coat and hat. He must have come with Lady Sneasler. But why were they here to begin with?
Lady Sneasler made another irritated noise as she watched her warden climb slowly and steadily up the path. “Sneasler!” She yowled again.
“Steady your roll, my Lady! Our destination isn’t going to disappear on us. My wheels don’t spin as fast as yours!”
Palina watched the pair with a baffled expression. She jerked in surprise when Sneasler huffed at her warden one last time before turning and stomping the rest of the way to her and the Growlithe. Shooting one last look at Palina, Lady Sneasler proceeded to ignore her entirely and settled herself in front of Lord Arcanine’s headstone. She pulled off the basket strapped to her back and began fussing with it.
Palina retreated a few more steps away from the Noble before turning as Ingo finally reached them. Even slouching as he was, he still stood a few inches taller than her. “W-Warden Ingo?”
He inclined his head to her, fingers reaching up habitually to fiddle with the brim of his tattered hat. “My apologies for interrupting your grieving, Miss Palina. Lady Sneasler insisted upon coming here today to share her meal with the late Lord of the Isles.”
Palina turned with him to watch Lady Sneasler. She rummaged through her basket, pulling out berries and inspecting them closely before replacing them. Palina watched in awe as Lady Sneasler laid out an assortment of berries and leaves in front of the headstone. Hearty grains, King’s Leaves…
It was exactly what she would have given Lord Arcanine herself. It was his favorite meal, after all.
Beside her, Ingo hummed. “Lady Sneasler may not show it often, but she cares deeply for her fellow Nobles. The loss of Lord Arcanine weighed heavily on her, for a time.”
“I see,” Palina murmured as Lady Sneasler finally settled. The Noble shot them a look over her shoulder.
“She wants some space now. We should depart down the path for the time being!”
Without waiting for her reply, Ingo turned abruptly and strode back down the path. Palina hesitated, but a low growl from Sneasler had her hurrying after the taller warden.
As they walked, Palina cast glances at Ingo. Over a year since Lady Sneasler had found him bloodied, bruised, and half frostbitten. Suffering from an amnesia that not even Calaba’s remedies could fix, brought about by a nasty head injury. Most had expected him to leave after he’d recovered from his injuries, and Ingo had shocked many with his decision to stay with the clan that had taken care of him.
Calaba had grumbled at them all. It shouldn’t have been so surprising that a man with amnesia and supposedly no home to return to had decided to stay with them, she’d said.
Even more shocking had been lady Sneasler choosing Ingo to be her warden. The fickle Noble had refused every candidate the elders had sent to her, turning her nose up as though they were beneath her. She had caused no small amount of agitation to the Pearl Clan as the years passed and Sneasler still refused them.
To have Lady Sneasler choose a stranger in their midst, unaccustomed to their ways, had slighted the elders. Even now they eyedIngo with distrust.
Secretly, Palina wondered if Ingo had been sent by almighty Sinnoh itself to aid them.
Palina couldn’t say she knew him much better since then. Nice, if a bit loud at times. Still no closer to recovering his memories. The man was just as mysterious to her as he had been when he arrived.
That was easy to say, though. She spent much of her time away from the Pearl Clan settlement these days.
At the moment, Palina would take his company over anyone else’s in the Pearl Clan. The elders’ gazes followed him as scornfully as they did her, no matter how much the younger people in the clan seemed to like Ingo. Misery loves company, after all. Was Ingo miserable? Palina honestly could not tell; he rarely smiled despite how cordial he seemed.
Ingo stopped suddenly, turning sharply to sit in the grass at the edge of the pathway. Palina paused, looking up the cliffside path. Lost in her thoughts as she had been, she hadn’t noticed they’d reached the bottom of the path.
Her Growlithe bounded forward to leap into Ingo’s lap, his significant weight knocking the breath out of the highlands warden. Ingo coughed, arm going behind himself to brace the ground to keep him upright as Growlithe barked happily in his face.
“Growlithe!” Palina knelt to scoop the wriggling pup off of Ingo, tugging the flailing mass to herself. “I’m very sorry, warden Ingo. I thought I’d trained him out of that.”
Ingo waved a dismissive hand. “It’s not an issue!” He reassured her, though Palina could see he was still trying to regain his breath. “Getting pounced on by a friendly pokemon certainly isn’t the worst thing in the world.” He gestured to his mangled coat. “The Sneasel in the Coronet Highlands and around the Pearl Settlement are always happy to see Lady Sneasler and myself. I’ve gotten used to patching up the worst of their enthusiasm.”
Palina did not envy him, and was secretly glad that Lady Sneasler had not chosen herself to be the highlands warden. If this was how her kits treated Ingo on a good day, She was amazed the coat was still in one piece at all.
Ingo’s eyes fell to the younger and smaller Growlithe, who had hidden behind Palina at the sudden flurry of movement from his brethren. He peeked out from around her, posture stiff and unsure as he regarded Ingo.
Palina held her breath as Ingo slowly held a hand out, palm turned down and knuckles curled inward exactly how Palina had taught the village children to do when approaching a friendly Growlithe.
“Growlithe greet one another through scent,” She had told them. “Let them smell you first, like this.”
After several long and tense moments, the young lord Growlithe crept slowly out from behind her, cautiously straining his neck forward to sniff at Ingo’s outstretched hand. Most people in the clan would take this as a cue to pet the skittish Growlithe, but Ingo remained still.
After several long, tense moments, Growlithe seemed to decide Ingo was trustworthy enough. He inched forward to sit next to the warden and nudged his hand with his snout. Ingo patted the pup’s coarse mane.
Palina busied herself with her larger Growlithe, scrunching up the pup’s cheeks between her hands while his tail wagged happily. Seeing the young lord, so small next to warden Ingo, she thought back to her quarrel with Irida earlier that morning. A feeling of determination overtook her.
“Do you think I’m wrong for letting him do as he pleases?” She challenged.
Ingo turned his flat stare to her. “Pardon?”
“Growlithe. I know very well what the village elders say about me. That I’m coddling him. That the vacant Noble’s seat needs to be filled.” That it was better that Irida had become the Clan Head instead of her, despite being so young. Irida could make the hard decisions on behalf of the clan. That Palina was letting her grief blind her. That almighty Sinnoh would become angry with the Pearl Clan if her foolishness continued.
Palina blinked angrily. She turned her head away to look out across the sea, hoping Ingo had not seen the furious tears gathering in her eyes.
Growlithe pressed his nose into her hand. Palina’s hands shook as she tightened her fingers into his fur.
Palina loved her clan. She loved almighty Sinnoh and its creation. But the sounds and smells and vastness around her that had comforted her earlier suddenly made her feel very small.
“No.”
Shaken from her swirling thoughts, she whipped her head in his direction. Ingo had turned away from her to look down at the little Growlithe nestled next to him. His expression was as unreadable as always.
“I don’t think you were wrong. Young Growlithe can see his tracks laid out before him, I’m sure. He knows where they will lead. Who are we to force them to change?” Growlithe looked up at him, tail wagging slowly. “Making a decision like this… the young lord is very brave.”
Palina felt relieved to know that she was not alone in her thoughts of the young lord. Iscan felt the same, of course. But this was a Pearl Clan matter, and Palina felt grateful that at least someone from her Clan felt the same as she did on the issue.
She watched as Growlithe pressed himself into Ingo’s side. A faint smile pulled at the man’s usually downturned mouth as he pet the pup.
A sudden flurry of commotion and angry chittering had Palina startling and Growlithe bolting for her, cowering behind her once more. Her bigger Growlithe stood and raced up the slope before Palina could stop him, barking his merry head off.
Beside her, Ingo signed wearily and got to his feet, dusting stray bits of grass off of his coat.
Palina stared. A trio of Aipom scampered down the slope, their prehensile tails curled tightly around the large basket that was usually in its place on Lady Sneasler’s back. The Noble herself had hunkered down to all four paws to race after them, screeching so angrily that Palina feared what would happen to the Aipom when she caught up with them. Growlithe had joined the chase, barking happily as he ran alongside the furious Noble.
Palina’s hands instinctively came up to hold her snow goggles tightly. She may not have had use for them in the Cobalt Coastlands, but they were still part of her everyday attire. Aipom were a common nuisance in the Coastlands, and Palina had long since learned to keep a watchful eye on her possessions. It could take hours to recover stolen things from the tricky little pokemon.
Ingo must have thought the same thing, for his hand came up to the brim of the sunbleached and tattered black hat that Palina had never seen him without. His other hand came up to his waist to grasp at nothing, pawing at the empty air a few times before his head tilted downwards slightly in confusion.
Palina had occasionally seen him do this when startled, looking for something that wasn’t there. Not for the first time, she wondered who Warden Ingo had been before he had lost his memory.
Undeterred, the man turned sharply and straightened to his considerable full height. The oncoming group of pokemon had noticed them now, and the Aipoms’ eyes flicked left and right, searching for a clear path around the two wardens.
A sharp, quick inhale was Palina’s only warning to what she knew was coming. Her hands had just barely clapped over her ears when, in a shout so loud that it rivaled the roar of a frenzied alpha pokemon, Ingo yelled, “HALT!”
Even with her hands over her ears, Palina winced at the sheer volume of it. The command had done its job, too, startling two of the Aipom into freezing in their tracks. The third Aipom, tail curled around the basket its brethren was holding, tripped flat on its face.
All three pokemon watched fearfully as Ingo strode forward with purpose, intent on retrieving the stolen basket.
Lady Sneasler, it seemed, had not realized the chase was over.
She and Growlithe slammed into the Aipom trio at full speed, angry hisses turning startled as her velocity sent herself, Growlithe, and the Aipom rolling directly into Ingo’s legs, bowling the poor man over.
“Ingo!” Palina cried, rushing forward to help the disheveled man back up. Ingo blinked up at her, tangled in the pile of pokemon. The Aipom chittered, scrambling over each other in their haste to get away. One leapt past her, its tail flicking her cheek, and another squirmed out from underneath Ingo to scamper off. The third barely missed getting caught in Growlithe’s snapping teeth and bounded after its kin.
Ingo gratefully accepted the hand she held out to pull him to his feet. Thoroughly disgruntled, Sneasler shoved Growlithe off of her stomach and turned to retrieve her recovered basket.
“Are you alright?” Palina asked, hand coming up to rest on her chest just as Ingo reached up to tug at the brim of his hat again. They both froze at the same time when their hands closed over nothing.
“Oh,” Ingo said.
They turned to stare at the dwindling figures of the three Aipom, tails wrapped around their new stolen prizes waving merrily in the air.
Palina buried her face in her hands and considered screaming into her fists for good measure.
Lady Sneasler flashed a sharp grin at both of them, smug now that she wasn’t the Aipoms’ target. Palina’s two Growlithe friends looked up at her, tails wagging curiously.
“Well,” Palina sighed. “If we go after them now, we might be able to get our things back before sundown?”
Ingo grunted, hand sweeping his silver hair back before resting on his face. He stood there silently, like he was gathering himself. Palina pursed her lips, struggling to hold back a laugh at the ridiculousness of the last 5 minutes. It seemed warden Ingo could never catch a break.
“Where have you two been!?” Irida demanded, standing before the two wardens with her arms crossed.
She’d felt horrible after her argument with Palina that morning, and had spent what felt like half the day stalking the camp in agitation and worry for her friend. She’d ignored the elders’ disapproved tutting, and assured the children of the clan that no, almighty Sinnoh wasn’t going to be bearing down on them if there weren't two Nobles in the Cobalt Coastlands.
She’d spent hours formulating her apology to her dearest friend as she stood at the edge of the Alabaster Icelands and the Coronet Highlands, scanning the mountain passes for any flicker of Pearl Clan’s signature pale pink color. Glaceon had long since retreated back to the settlement to escape Irida’s fussing.
The sun had set an hour ago, and Irida’s fear had spiked the longer her clanmates had gone unaccounted for. She had just been considering looking for them herself when they had finally shown up. Looking at the disheveled wardens before her, however, Irida wondered if her worry was wasted.
Ingo and Palina were both soaking wet and covered in sand. Palina’s bigger Growlithe fared little better, the grains caked in thick clumps to his legs and tail. Palina was wrapped up in Ingo’s black coat, lent to protect her from the wind’s chill. It was the only dry thing between the two, spared from whatever chaos had happened upon them.
Palina hung her head. “I apologize for worrying you, Irida. Lady Sneasler and her warden came to visit, and there was this group of Aipom…”
Warden Ingo, it seemed, had nothing to say for himself. He stared right through Irida like she wasn’t even there. Irida would have been annoyed by it if he hadn’t looked particularly miserable.
Growlithe decided at that moment to rid himself of the added weight, and shook his fluffy body. The sand sprayed everywhere. Irida’s hands flew up to shield her face, sputtering. The young lord, thankfully free of sand to shake off, whined sadly up at Irida.
Irida sighed. They were both lucky that the sky was clear, and wouldn’t have to fight through the snow in wet clothes for too long. The Growlithe could keep them relatively warm, even if it would be uncomfortable for both of them until they got back to the settlement.
Irida turned on her heel and marched away, the two wardens falling in step behind her.