Archive of Our Own

Silver Coast Stories
By WildSnivy

Case IV: Lost in the Snow

“Like we rehearsed?”

     “Ready when you are.”

     Both of them took a breath in and bowed apologetically before jointly stating, “We are so sorry for the trouble we caused!”

     Kit blankly stared at the Blue couple from his usual spot on his sofa. “Beg pardon?”

     “W-what, you mean that incident at the police party?” Loge asked. “Don’t think anything about it! We’re just glad we were around to help.”

     “I’m sure you are,” the Glaceon affirmed, smiling politely. “But the missus and I have been discussing it ever since then and...well...”

     “The point is Mr. Blue and I think we need to thank you more sincerely than we have,” the Vaporeon finished, and reached for something in her bag. “And we had the perfect idea last night.”

     “You really don’t need to,” Kit desisted. “Like Loge said, we were...”

     Loge pinched the top of one of the Delphox’s oversized, pointed ears and pulled it closer to his muzzle. “What are you doing, foxy?” he whispered, politely, with a hint of disgust.

     “Being gallant. Also, ow.”

     “I don’t know what that word means. Does it mean saying no to free stuff?”

     “Not entirely. Is there a problem?”

     “You’re saying no to free stuff.”

     Mr. Blue’s attention was caught. “Oh, it’s nothing material or anything like that, if that’s the worry.”

     The Delphox and Zoroark glanced away from each other and back towards the Glaceon.

     Mrs. Blue smiled warmly and placed what looked like a brochure on the coffee table. “It’s more of an invitation if anything. There’s no harm in declining either way.”

     Kit scowled at Loge.

     “...it could have been mon-ow!”

     Kit righted his posture as Loge rubbed the back of his head. He picked up the pamphlet and read the location on the front. “Monarch Ridge.”

     Loge’s eyes widened. “Wait, like, the ski resort?”

     “Are you one for snow sports, Kit?” Mr. Blue asked politely.

     “Never really had a chance to try,” he replied as he perused the pamphlet’s contents.

     “Well, we own a house near the base of the mountain,” the Glaceon explained. “Normally we rent it out to tourists during the peak season but...”

     “Heh...heheh...peak,” Loge giggled. Everyone waited for him to be done, then he politely cleared his throat and crossed his legs. “You were saying?”

     “But Mr. Blue and I like to use it for vacation when we need one,” the Vaporeon continued. “Neither of us mind the cold that much, we both like skating and skiing...”

     “We first met sharing one of the lift chairs,” Mr. Blue chuckled.

     “It’s one of our favorite anniversary destinations, isn’t it, icepop?” Mrs. Blue added, smiling lovingly at her husband.

     The Glaceon returned the grin and hugged his wife with a paw. “We need to get you back on the slopestyle course at some point.”

     Kit was not sure if he should interrupt their moment or not. He spoke up regardless. “So you’ll be...joining us there or?”

     “Oh, nonono, of course not!” Mrs. Blue corrected. “We’re actually off to The Wetlands this year. We’re visiting his parents in Fifty Lakes.”

     “What it does mean, though, is that nobody will be using the property this time around, so we figured we’d ask if you and your friends would like to fix that,” Mr. Blue formally offered. “It’d be all yours for the weekend. After that, we need to start preparing it for ski season proper.”

     “No harm done if you can’t or don’t want to; it’ll just be there with nobody in it otherwise,” the Vaporeon repeated. “But tell us what you think before we leave on Thursday. You know where to find us!”

     “I don’t know...” Loge said, crossing his arms. “I’ve always been a warm weather Zoroark, not to mention I’m not looking forward to flying down a hill at two hundred miles an hour with...”

     “The local dining scene is wonderful, by the way,” commented Mr. Blue.

     “Kit, I think we should go.”

     “Said the magic words,” the Delphox remarked with a shake of his head. “I’m really busy with my casework and everything though.”

     “You kidding me? When was the last time you took a vacation? You probably need it more than anyone we know.”

     “It’s just not something I do. I’m a busy guy.”

     Loge smiled toothily at the two Eons. “May we have a second?” he requested as he pulled Kit’s ear back over to him.

     “Ow. Again.”

     “Are you using work as an excuse to not do stuff again?” the Zoroark whispered.

     “I’m using work as an excuse to not disappoint people who expect me to work.”

     “How many open files do you have?”

     “...five.”

     “Give me two and let’s close them before the weekend starts. Then you won’t have any excuses.”

     “Since when do you care about work?”

     “Since I started caring about my best friend more, smart one!”

     “Is everything alright?” Mrs. Blue inquired. “I hope we’re not imposing too much.”

     “Not even a little!” Loge exuberantly yelled. Kit flinched from the volume and pulled his ear down against his head. “On behalf of Kit’s Detective Agency And Consulting Office, we’d be happy to tend to your vacation destination while it’s not in use! We’ll just need a second to inform and round up our helpers.”

     “Absolutely!” Mr. Blue nodded. “I’ll tell the groundskeeper to expect you. Just leave the cabin in better condition than you found it is all we ask.”

     Loge turned to his friend with a wide grin. “I’ll get Emilia if you get Luka?”

     Kit sighed and massaged his temples, trying to quell the ringing.

The Silver Coast School of Iron Fist tended towards the quieter side on Mondays, meaning Luka needed to find ways to stay busy. He had spent most of his morning cleaning up the main hall and his personal quarters, and now it was time for some personal training of his own. He had set up a wood and straw dummy on the open, slightly elevated stage area to the back of the dojo’s main hall and was maneuvering about it, striking each of the dummy’s arms as if he was parrying a blow. He was keeping track of the time at one point but stopped counting after about the seven-minute mark.

     He accidentally touched one of the arms with his elbow and grunted in annoyance. He stopped, put his hands on his knees and breathed heavily for a few seconds before giving his assessment. “Sloppy. Do it again.” He readied himself and went back to striking the dummy.

     “Up to that point, you were almost perfect,” a familiar, elderly voice came from the dojo’s front doors. The Lucario flinched as his concentration was broken by the strong aura in the same general direction. It was unusual for him to not notice such an emanating presence sooner, but it soon made sense as he recognized the desaturated sapphire fur and warm amber eyes of his former tutor.

     Luka immediately sat down on his legs and bowed reverently. “Grand Master Yugo. How long have you been here for?”

     “I just arrived, Luka. No cause for alarm,” Yugo chuckled, and motioned with his walking cane. “Might I...?”

     “Yes, absolutely,” Luka nodded and stood up. “I’ll make some tea as well.”

     “Thank you,” the elder Lucario accepted as he moseyed inside. He examined some of the pictures on the walls as Luka retreated behind a paper screen to a small teamaking station. “Are these all your students?”

     “Yes, sir,” Luka called back as he started a small fire in the stove. “I hold classes five days a week. This is one of my slower ones.”

     “Very nice,” Yugo replied. “It’s good to see you keeping our traditions alive and well.”

     “It’s part of our arrangement,” Luka stated. He put a kettle on the black iron stovetop. “What brings you to Silver Coast, Grand Master? Another one of your pilgrimages?”

     “Well...yes. But I also caught word you’re planning to put in for your Middle Master rank, so I thought I’d come by, see how my student is faring, offer my approval, usual spiel.”

     Luka walked back out and set up a small table and a pair of cushions. “I’ve been doing well for myself, I think. The school is thriving, I’ve made friends with some interesting characters, and I think I’m in a good place on the whole. As for the trial, well...I’m still far from being ready for it. As you probably saw.”

     Yugo shut his eyes and studied his pupil for a moment. “You’ve been training hard lately. Very hard.”

     “I’ve had to,” Luka solemnly replied. “I’m not passing otherwise.”

     “Your aura is very strong as is,” the elder pointed out. His eyes shimmered gold as he reopened them. “I think you could handily pass your trial and still have energy for the celebrations afterward.”

     “Auras still need physical and mental prowess to go with them,” Luka pointed out as he went back behind the divider. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I don’t feel prepared right now.”

     “No master, not even me, gets everything perfect. We’ve just made more mistakes and learned how to prevent them.”

     “I suppose I’m still working on that second part then,” Luka shrugged as he took the boiling kettle off the stovetop.

     Yugo hummed pensively to himself and sat down on one of the cushions. “...are you happy, Luka?”

     The Lucario paused for a moment. “In what way?”

     “I remember training a young Riolu with life in his eyes. He had a fire stoked within him. He was going to go places, see the world, have tales to tell in his older years. And here I come to his dojo some years later to find that blaze has been replaced by cold steel.”

     Luka got out a pair of clay cups and placed some crushed leaves in each. “I grew up. I decided the school came first. There wasn’t any time for exploring or adventuring then, and there still isn’t now.”

     “The Swords of Justice, I think they were called? That one expedition group you admired. I remember your quarters decorated with newspaper clippings. You wanted to follow in their footsteps, did you not?”

     Luka sighed heavily as he poured the hot water into the cups. “Not to sound impudent, Grand Master, but what are you saying?”

     “I think you’ve given up a little,” Yugo answered. “My Luka follows his ambition, even when he must bend tradition in order to do so. That’s why he went before the council and asked permission to leave the village, no?”

     The younger Lucario came back to the seating area and handed one of the steaming cups to his mentor. “Here you are, sir.”

     Yugo nodded and took a small sip.

     Luka turned to take his place at the table.

     “Unless it was about Sanji.”

     The second clay cup shattered on the dojo’s floor.

     Yugo leaned over to see what the noise was.

     Luka stood motionless, his back to the elder.

     “If it was, then you know what I’m going to say.”

     Luka did not reply.

     “I am still your mentor, even if I haven’t seen you in years. If something is wrong, then...”

     Luka slowly turned around, a stern but still neutral expression on his face. He bowed politely. “Forgive me. I’ll clean this up.”

     Yugo sighed and set his cup down. “What happened to you, Luka?”

     “I’d prefer not to discuss it, Grand Master.”

     The elder grabbed his cane and pushed himself up to his feet. “I understand. It seems interrupting your training was a mistake on my end. I’ll try again later. Can I at least help...”

     “Thank you, but no,” Luka asserted with another bow. “It’s my mess.”

     The grand master went quiet, then shook his head, turned towards the dojo’s entrance and hobbled away. “I suppose so.”

     Luka stood up, watched his mentor leave, then looked down at the shattered cup at his feet. He blankly stared at it for a moment, then sighed and went to find a towel.

“It’s the mooost wonderful tiiiiime of the yeeeeeeeeear!”

     Leslie pushed her nose further into her book. “It’s not even winter, Loge.”

     “Jeesh, just getting into the spirit of things,” muttered the Zoroark as he perused the store’s limited stock of cold weather items. He harumphed. “Speaking of winter, you guys could do with a better inventory.”

     The Grovyle snapped her literature down and leered at him from the cash register. “We live on the beach. How many times does it snow at the beach?”

     “More than you might think!” Emilia pointed out as she waddled over with a pile of merchandise and dropped it onto the checkout counter.

     Leslie looked it over. “You didn’t forget your money this time, did you?”

     “As a matter of fact, I did remember this time!” Emilia beamed, crossing her arms. “Loge!”

     “Coming!”

     Leslie shook her head and turned back to her book, flipping a page. “So who’s going on this trip, just the two of you?”

     “Nope!” Loge replied as he plopped a few more things before the Grovyle. “Kit’s coming too, and maybe also his yoga teacher.”

     “It’s not yoga,” Emilia pointed out.

     “Oh yeah, that reminds me,” Loge continued. “I had a thought that maybe if we decide to do our own things up at the lodge, then it’d be nice to have a way to stay in touch with each other.”

     For once of her own volition, Leslie’s glance slid away from the book.

     “Ooh, good call,” the Salazzle agreed. “Kit could even use them afterwards in case he needs to get a hold of you for work stuff.”

     Leslie slid a bookmark into the spine and clapped her book shut. “Might I offer a recommendation?”

     “You do those?” Loge asked back.

     “Of course I do! I have inventory to move!” Leslie growled.

     “Don’t yell at your customers,” Loge reprimanded.

     The Grovyle sighed and ducked behind the counter. “Give me a second. We keep the valuable stuff locked up.”

     Emilia’s eyes sparkled. “Would this perhaps be something...”

     “Yeah, yeah, get your book out if you have to.”

     The front door’s bell dinged and Emilia vanished before Loge’s eyes.

     A soft ka-chunk of an opening lockbox came from under the counter followed closely by a squeal of hinges. She stood back up, a pair of topaz-colored Wonder Orbs in her hands and set them down on the counter. “How long is she going to be?”

     “She’s usually pretty fast,” Loge remarked right before the bell dinged again and Emilia slammed her almanac onto the table, popping the two balls into the air.

     Leslie panicked and managed to catch both of them. “Watch it! They’re valuable!”

     “Sorry!” the Salazzle yelped as she flipped through the pages and glanced at the orbs. “Oh wait, those are...”

     “Yeah, Fartalk Orbs,” Leslie grinned. “Uncle Leon got a set imported from his brother’s store up north.”

     “Neat! So what do they do, exactly?” Loge asked, pointing at the twin orbs. “Can I touch one?”

     “You break it, you buy it.”

     Loge winced and quickly retreated his index finger. “Y-yes, ma’am!”

     “They’re pretty popular with exploration teams and other folks that need ways to talk over long distances,” Emilia explained. “You take one and your friend takes the other. Yours glows green when you’re talking into it, and the other glows red and repeats what you’re saying.”

     Leslie nodded. “It’s a bit more scientific than that, but that’s the short explanation. They’re uniquely paired up with each other as well, so if there’s multiple people using Fartalk Orbs at the same time, there’s no worries about the messages getting scrambled together or anything.”

     “Sounds pretty nifty!” the Zoroark smiled. “And pretty much exactly what I was looking for. What do they go for?”

     “For both? Eighteen K.”

     “E-eighteen thousand??” Loge hollered, wagging his finger. “Now you listen here, missy, that’s borderline extortion. If your uncle...”

     “He sets the prices, Loge. I just tell you what they are,” Leslie blankly interrupted.

     “What about my loyal customer discount?”

     “Good point. Seventeen thousand nine ninety-nine.”

     “What kind of a discount is that?”

     “Limited stock and these babies are two of the most valuable things in the store. Aren’t you loaded anyways?”

     “That’s not an excuse! You’re wringing me dry here, Leslie!”

     “Miser.”

     “Greedy.”

     “Loge, I’ve used them before when I was working with other newspapers,” Emilia calmly inserted. “They’re really nice to have on hand. Honestly it’s kind of a good deal.”

     “It’s for your friiiiiend...” Leslie singsongingly reminded.

     Loge huffed and went for his coin pouch. “Fine. If it’s for Kit I guess...”

     “Pleasure doing business,” Leslie snickered, drumming her fingers on the counter. “Now about the other stuff you’re buying...”

Luka fired another flurry of blows at the dummy, pacing his breathing as he did. A hard blow to its wooden center. A chop to the upper right segment.

     Yugo was not on his mind. He would not let him intrude on it right now. He went for a high whirlwind kick. He could think about Mt. Whisper and his future and...

     “Luka?”

     His foot slipped and he fell onto his side. He grunted in pain but more so in frustration, and he looked around the dojo for the sound of the voice. It was young, like it could have been one of his students.

     The dojo was empty.

     He examined the open doorway.

     Nobody was there.

     “Who’s there?” he barked and shut his eyes. “Make yourself known. You aren’t in trouble.”

     His vision illuminated with a wispy blue outline out of the dojo. The training floor, the back room, the dummy...

     A faint magenta outline faded into view before him, in front of a side hallway.

     The outline looked like a Riolu.

     “...no.”

     “Luka?”

     The Lucario’s eyes snapped open. He jumped up and swiftly turned to his right, ready for a fight.

     Kit stood in the doorway, an eyebrow raised. “Bad time?”

     Luka took a few deep breaths and turned towards where he saw the aura.

     Nothing was there.

     He growled under his breath and eased up. “No. Just training. What can I do for you?”

     “You remember Mr. and Mrs. Blue from Sergeant Titus’ party?”

     “They have a case for you?”

     “Opposite, actually,” the Delphox answered as he strolled in and looked over Luka’s training area. “They’ve offered up their cabin at Monarch Ridge for the weekend.”

     “How...unexpectedly nice,” Luka commented, resetting his stance towards the dummy. “And you’ve taken them up?”

     “Well, Loge did, but everyone wanted me to invite you as well.”

     “Thank you, Detective, but I must sadly say no.”

     “You’re sure?”

     “Positive,” Luka firmly stated as he restarted his regimen. “I plan to return to Mt. Whisper and test for the rank of Middle Master.”

     “When’s that going to happen?”

     “Soon as my old mentor decides I’m ready, I plan to request a trial in a few weeks’ time.” The Lucario grunted and reset again. “Perhaps longer.”

     Kit crossed his arms. “So not anytime soon.”

     “Is there anything I can help you with immediately?”

     “Loge gets on me about not taking breaks constantly. Training at your intensity for months on end doesn’t sound that healthy.”

     “I know where my limits are better than anyone, Detective. I’ll be fine.”

     Kit exhaled heavily. “I can tell you’re slipping.”

     Luka stopped mid-jab and peered over at Kit.

     “I didn’t say anything up to now, since it would’ve been in public. But there’s bruising on your knuckles coupled with the scent of ganlon berries. Lots of athletes use its extract in healing potions. Something also recently chipped your floor. Nothing really to knock over in here, nor do you have classes over the weekend nor before the afternoon today, so you must have dropped something instead. Not exactly an error you’re in the habit of making.”

     The two of them stared at each other for a minute, and Luka heaved a sigh. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?”

     “Force of habit. Sorry.”

     “Nothing to apologize for,” Luka replied. “You’re right. Between my exam, that incident in Black Forest and...”

     He paused. Kit cocked his head slightly.

     “I have been pushing myself. It’s to a good end, however. Stronger is always attainable, no matter who it is.”

     Kit shrugged. “Well, if you want to frame it like that, Monarch Ridge is a ski resort. Think of this like training a different muscle group instead of just your fists. Something to...help complete your workout.”

     The Lucario hung his head. “Forgive my stubbornness earlier. If you wouldn’t mind me still doing some exercises while at the cabin, then I think a change of scenery would do well.”

     “It’ll be just us, Loge and Emilia, so I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

     “I’ll make preparations then,” Luka replied with a bow. “Thank you for having me.”

     Kit nodded and turned back towards the open door. “I’ll see you on Wednesday for class. Oh, and maybe ease up a bit if you can. You’re gonna scare Loge.”

     Luka peered down at his hands, the grey fur mottled with deep red patches near his knuckles. “Yes, of course.”

     Kit turned down the street, silently wondering if his advice would be heeded.

Outside of Archer Teleportation Lines, Loge peered up at the signage and heaved his bag over his shoulder. “Anyone else feel nervous about this?”

     “I’m guessing you’ve never used teleportation for travel before now,” Luka observed.

     “Can’t say I have,” the Zoroark replied. “It’s the whole...I mean...what...happens?”

     “You walk in, you tell the nice conductor where you’re going, and they take care of the rest,” Kit summarized as he marched for the door.

     “You know that’s not what I’m asking,” Loge flatly responded, ears drooped.

     Emilia readjusted the oversized pack on her back and patted her roommate’s shoulder. “I’m not super familiar with the inner workings either. But I’ve done it before and it’s completely safe. You won’t feel a thing!”

     “Why do you sound like my doctor before he right gives me a shot?”

     “I’ve had to do this a couple times for my move from the monastery as well,” Luka inserted. “First your body is disintegrated into tiny particles of psychic energy...”

     “Cool!” Emilia interjected.

     “IT’S WHAT?!?” Loge shouted.

     Kit sighed and pushed the door open to a well-decorated but empty waiting area and an exuberant, energetic Arcanine sitting behind a counter, expectantly staring at the door like he actively wanted someone to come in. He wore a deep blue conductor’s cap with the nametag Archie pinned to it. “Customers?” he excitedly asked.

     “Yes, four of us,” the Delphox nodded as he approached the counter.

     Luka followed him in, scooting Loge inside as the Zoroark dug his heels into the floor. “Come on, Loge, it’s not nearly as scary as...”

     “I’m getting disintegrated and then zipped along some magic hoo-ha outside of my control and then somehow maybe I get remade somewhere on a frozen mountaintop, how is that not scary??”

     “...possibly three,” Kit added.

     “Do you have a reservation?” the Arcanine happily requested.

     “Yes, Kit the Delphox. Or barring that, Mr. Blue the Glaceon.”

     “Yep yep!” woofed Archie as he pawed through his papers. A small thud shook the building as Emilia tried to figure out how she was getting her bag through the doorway. Archie pressed a small switch on the floor and a larger freight door to the side started to roll up. “Try through here, madam!”

     “Thanks,” the Salazzle embarrassedly waved. She backed up and walked around the other way.

     Loge sat down in one of the chairs and looked over at the Arcanine. His eyebrow raised after a second. “Wait, are you...”

     “Archer, yes! Everyone calls me Archie though. I’ll be the one helping you get on your way today to...Monarch Ridge! And it’s all paid for already! Fun! Going skiing?”

     “Y-yeah, maybe, but...” Loge shook his head. “W-what do you mean, you’re helping us? Where’s the guy doing the teleport...thing?”

     The Arcanine raised his paw. Kit blankly pointed at him as well.

     Loge blinked. “...that can’t be right.”

     “Some Pokémon have uncanny proficiencies like this,” the Lucario mentioned. “A nomadic band of Alakazams would visit Mt. Whisper occasionally and tell tales with the Grand Masters about teaching their techniques to a group of Chansey medics travelling for charity. Their response times accelerated tenfold as I recall.”

     Archie sniffed the air. “Is something burning?”

     “Sorry! Me again,” Emilia admitted as she scribbled into her notepad. “That’s going straight into the almanac once we get to the cabin! Do you know of anyone else who can...”

     “Time and place, Emilia,” Kit stated. “I think we’re set to leave in a couple minutes.”

     “You are, yes! We can send you off whenever you’re ready!” Archie stated.

     “I-I’m not sure I am...” Loge stammered.

     “It’s completely painless,” Luka replied, pulling the Zoroark to his feet. “Come on, the first time’s always scary.”

     “Okay, I’ll...wait, painless? Is there a not-painless version? How do the psychic bits know whose is whose? What if we come out the other end and I’m Emilia and Kit’s me or we’re...”

     “Does Mr. Zoroark need assistance?” Archie politely asked Kit.

     The Delphox peered over at him. “Hey Loge, I read that the funnel cakes at the peak are delicious. I’ll buy you some when we get there.”

     The Zoroark paced right past Kit and the attendant. “Giddy up, gang! No time like the present! Everyone use the bathroom while you still can!”

     Archie laughed a little as he led the group to a large open area behind the counter’s dividing wall. A large circle drawn onto the floor with ink thrummed with power and glowed a soft, light blue. The Arcanine walked over to a small console and a few paddles on the floor for his paws. “Alrighty then! Everybody into the circle of the Teleportamator, and please do not let yourselves or your belongings leave it until you arrive!”

     All four of them stepped into the ring. Archie stepped onto the paddles and rocked them back and forth as the console whirred and clicked. Kit peered out the window and saw the shadow of what looked like an antenna rotating about on top of the building.

     “And...there! We’re all set up!” Archie cheered as he turned to the quartet, tail wagging. “Everyone ready?”

     Kit nodded.

     Emilia gave a thumbs-up.

     “We are,” Luka stated.

     Loge itched the back of his head and gave an uncertain toothy smile.

     “Have a good trip!” The Arcanine pushed a few more paddles and the ring hummed with energy. The glow shifted from blue to green and grew in intensity. The runes inside flashed brightly. Loge yelped and jumped onto Kit, hoping it would stop. It did not. Kit sighed and shut his eyes. Luka patted the Zoroark’s shoulder. Emilia giggled at the sight as a blinding light enveloped the travelers.

     The ring of energy shrunk and collapsed into a large sphere, and it rose up towards a receiving funnel-shaped hole in the ceiling.

     Archie smiled and lifted a paw over a big button on the floor.

     “Alazamboozle!”

     He pounded the button. The ball flew into the funnel and shot out through the antenna like a beam, before dissipating seconds later.

     Somewhere in that streak, buried deep in a field of pure mathematical, probabilistic, uncertain nonsense, a Zoroark was screaming his lungs out as he soared across the sky. He felt like he was being sucked down a pipe headfirst. Loge’s eyes were open but it was difficult to see much of anything from the sheer luminosity surrounding him. He had trouble making out himself, and even then he was not completely sure it was him. He tried waving a hand in front of his face. The few details he could notice were...he squinted a bit to make sure he had it right. He was sparkling. Well, no, it was more ethereal than that. It was more like he had become the sky on a clear night. An entire starfield visible in his hand, his arm, everything. It was...pristine. Calming. Tranquil. He went silent for a moment to take it in...

     And then promptly continued his terrified wail.

     “You have a remarkable lung capacity,” Luka’s voice echoed in from somewhere.

     “Why are there five Lukas?” Loge shouted incredulously before noticing the reverb. “Why are there five mes? Where is everyone?”

     “Arceus help me,” the one-eyed Delphox muttered, pulling his ears down against his head. Teleportation trips never took more than a few minutes but this one felt like it was verging on hours. “This is all normal, Loge. Calm down, take a deep breath and...”

     “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!”

     “Never mind.”

     “Hey, Loge?”

     “Who said that?”

     Someone patted his shoulder. Loge flipped over and saw a Salazzle, her scales patterned in that same starry pattern he saw himself, warmly smiling back at him. “I’ll hang onto you. Just pretend you’re flying.”

     The Zoroark blinked and sheepishly scratched his mane. “Uh, thanks...you look...”

     “Stellar?” Emilia joked.

     Loge could not help but snicker. “Heh. I was going to say dazzling.”

     “Both work. And thanks! You as well.”

     “How did you find me?”

     “You weren’t exactly making it hard,” Kit stated.

     Loge glared over Emilia’s shoulder. “Do you mind, foxy? We’re having a moment!”

     Emilia laughed a bit. “He’s just playing.”

     “R-right...” the Zoroark grinned, red-faced. “So, uh...now what?”

     “Let’s just talk. We’ll land before you know it.”

     “Uh...what about?”

     “Something simple, is my suggestion,” Luka offered. “How about your favorite game? I’m an avid mahjong enthusiast myself.”

     “Chess here,” Kit stated. “Reminds me, the score’s still eighty-four to zero.”

     “You keep predicting my moves!” Loge protested.

     “That’s what the game’s about. It’s not cheating.”

     “Your mom’s a fortune teller!”

     “Banker, thank you. And you know dang well that’s not my specialty.”

     “You can still do it though, right?” Emilia asked. “So do you do it during your games?”

     “That’s for me to know and him to find out.”

     Loge growled and crossed his star-spotted arms.

     Emilia grinned again. “What about you, Loge? What do you like doing?”

     “Oh, Kit and I loved to mock battle when we were kids!” the Zoroark snappily replied. “He was a total pushover too.”

     “No, I wasn’t.”

     “Yes, you were! His fire stuff is scary is all, but if you get a bite on him, he goes down like a rock.”

     “I think it’s less that the detective is a pushover and more that you just fight better against psychics in general,” Luka mentioned. “They tend to struggle against Dark-aspected individuals like yourself.”

     “See Loge? Think of our chess series as my way of revenge.”

     “Oh go revenge yourself. You’re just mad that I...”

     “And you’re still down eight points to Ember.”

     Loge scowled. “Why is everyone in your family so...”

     The light intensified suddenly and a familiar looking room interior faded back into view. Kit and Luka stood upright in the runed circle as it powered down, while Emilia found herself sprawled out on top of Loge, who was lying down on his back.

     The Arcanine working the console, this one wearing a red and yellow winter hat with a pompom at the end, turned to his new arrivals. “Hello! How was the trip?”

     “Went about as well as it could have,” Kit replied as he helped the Salazzle to her feet.

     “Thanks for the ride!” Emilia added as she dusted herself off and heaved her bag back onto her back.

     Loge stood up and shook his head. The Arcanine caught his attention immediately. “...Archie?”

     “That’s me!” Archie woofed happily. “Can I help with your bags?”

     The Zoroark’s eyes narrowed. “...Kit?”

     “What is it now?”

     “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?”

     The Lucario blinked back at him. “Sorry?”

     “I don’t know how you did the whole...” Loge wildly motioned to the circle. “...thing there but...we’re still in Silver Coast aren’t we? You’re pranking me.”

     “...no? Why would you...”

     “Look at it! The room’s the same, the layout’s the same, the waiting room is the same, you probably just got Archie to pull on a different hat while we were going through all that...”

     Archie cocked his head. “I’m not sure what you mean. You’re at Monarch Ridge, Mr. Zoroark.”

     “Seriously, do I look like someone who would do all of this for a joke?” the Delphox asked with a sigh.

     “Yeah, because you know I’ve never done teleportation before, so this is the perfect time to get me back on all those pranks I played on you.  An Arcanine knowing how to teleport. You even dealt Luka and Emilia in on it too!”

     Kit’s eyes narrowed. “I am not that petty. You can go look outside if you want.”

     “I think I will!” Loge challenged with a toothy grin as he marched for the door. “Should be sunny and seventy-five, right?”

     Archie peeked around the divider. “Um, Mr. Zoroark, I should mention that...”

     Loge flung the door open and a whoosh of wind and snow gusted right into his face. Emilia flinched from the noise, and Kit and Luka just looked at each other blankly. He managed to shut the door after a few seconds of fighting the wind.

     He shook the snow off of his face, then righted his posture and strolled back over to his companions. “I’ll be taking those funnel cakes now, Kit.”

     “Sorry, I was trying to say there’s a small blizzard outside right now,” Archie sadly reported.

     “I don’t remember the forecast saying it’d be snowing this hard. Or at all,” Kit observed.

     “The weather up here gets unpredictable when the cold season approaches,” the Arcanine replied. He looked saddened, but only for a moment before he happily smiled and his tail started wagging. “I wouldn’t worry about it though! With any luck it’ll clear up and you’ll have plenty of time for fun in the snow. Make yourself comfy in the meantime! I can make cocoa!”

     “I like this guy!” Loge beamed as he strutted back to the waiting area.

     “Because he’s giving you free food?” the Delphox shot back.

     “He knows my weaknesses, what can I say?”

     Emilia effortlessly heaved her Golem-sized bag onto her back and turned to the Arcanine. “So you’re...also Archie?”

     “Yep! The one in Silver Coast is my cousin,” Archie explained as he led everyone back to the waiting area. “We’re a family-owned business!”

     “Ah, I see,” Emilia nodded. “Kind of a wacky coincidence then, eh? You don’t often get family members with the same name.”

     Archie exhaled a flame into a heating stove and chuckled. “Oh no, we’ve always done that!”

     Emilia’s eyebrow raised curiously. “You’ve...always done that?”

     “Yep! Let’s see, there’s Archie my brother, Archie my dad, Archie my other brother, Archie my sister, Archie my ex-great-aunt twice removed...”

     “Naming traditions are still alive and well, I see,” Luka grinned. “How many stations do you have, again?”

     “One hundred and sixty four!”

     Emilia blinked and reached for her notebook. “That’s a lot of Archies...”

     Loge raised a hand. “How do you guys tell each other apart?”

     “With the hats, of course!” the Arcanine cheerfully replied.

     “Do they ever...you know, get mixed up?” Loge asked, gesturing towards Archie’s headwear.

     Archie looked at the Zoroark with the sort of blank look Kit could tell meant the possibility never crossed his mind. “What do you mean?”

     “I dunno, what if you took someone else’s hat on accident?”

     The water kettle boiled and whistled. Archie cocked his head. “Why would anyone do something like that?”

     “Accidents can happen sometimes. Like, maybe you’re at a big family reunion or something and...”

     “Well now, that’s just silly!” Archie laughed as he gripped the kettle’s handle in his mouth and took it off the stove. “That sounds like something people who don’t wear hats would do!”

     “They wouldn’t have any hats to mix up in that case...” Kit pointed out.

     “Exactly! They wouldn’t know what to do with them!” Archie replied. He poured the boiling water into a set of mugs near the small cooking station.

     Kit raised a finger to ask the Arcanine to elaborate, and then decided discretion was the better part of sanity, held his tongue and peered out the window of the station. “I never really thought the weather up here would be so...volatile. You sure this is normal?”

     “It’ll improve, Archer Lines promise! One-day flurries like this are actually somewhat common. They help keep the slopes in tip-top shape. You’ll be happy later!” Archie happily encouraged as chomped on a tray and walked it over to a small table. “Haer yaho!”

     Loge gladly took one of the mugs and sampled Archie’s work. “Ah...that’s a good cup of joe!”

     The Arcanine flinched. “I-I hope that’s not him. I thought it was my cocoa mix.”

     “How long have you lived up here?” Luka inquired as he took a mug of his own.

     “Almost all my life!” Archie replied. “I moved here when I was little, so I’m practically a native. What are you doing up here yourselves?”

     “Vacation,” the Salazzle answered. “We’re staying at...uh...Kit?”

     “Skater’s Paradise. The house is next to a lake from what the Blues told me.”

     “Oooh, good choice! It’s within walking distance of the ski lifts! Plus the sunset hitting the backcountry is gorgeous!” Archie cheered, his tail wagging slowly. “Er, well, when you can see it at any rate.”

     Loge went for another sip of cocoa but stopped halfway through. “Wait, the backcountry’s that close?”

     “What about it?” Luka asked.

     “Another ghost story probably,” Kit shrugged.

     “It’s not a ghost story if it’s real!” the Zoroark protested, then his ears perked. “Ooooh, this might be fun for you actually, Kit!”

     “Oh good grief. Loge, I thought I was on vacation.”

     “You are! That’s why I’m bringing it up!” Loge retorted. “So the story is...”

     A noise suddenly shot past the station from outside, like someone had sliced through a tree branch with a buzzsaw. Emilia flinched wildly and somehow managed to spill and not spill her drink as it sloshed around.

     The Lucario blinked and peered out the window. “What in the world was that?” He noticed a trench in the snow bank a few feet wide.

     The Arcanine paced over to the door and opened it up. “Good afternoon, Heikki!” he shouted down the road at nothing in particular.

     Kit’s eyebrow raised and he leaned out the door. In the white haze, he could make out a small light blue ball, rapidly rolling in their direction in the snowfall. Another buzz soared past the station along with someone yelling “...stay warm, Archie!” before their voice faded into the distance. Or that’s what he assumed happened; both he and Archie were blasted by a snow spray kicked up as the ball roared past them. The two looked like snow sculptures by the time the curtain of snow settled back down.

     Archie shook himself off. “Brbrbrbrbrbr! Thanks for your service!” he called back before ducking back into the building.

     Kit channeled some power into his hand and scraped the snow off of himself with one clean sweep, then dragged his wet self back towards the heating stove in the corner of the room.

     “Did I hear someone?” Loge asked as he sipped his cocoa. “Who would be out in the middle of a snowstorm?”

     “That would be Heikki the Sandslash, Mr. Zoroark!” Archie explained. “He works ski patrol around here, and when he’s not doing that, he’s our local snow removal expert. He’ll have the road cleared in no time and you can get on your way to Skater’s Paradise!”

     “Sandslash?” Emilia asked, setting her mug down. “In the snow?”

     “He was also...bluer than I was expecting,” Kit grumbled as he sat down and curled himself up. The water sopped his fur and made his ears droop.

     Loge snickered. “You look like you just got out of a pool.”

     The Delphox harrumphed and took out his branch. He waved it at the fire and coaxed a small stream of flame towards himself. The trail wrapped itself around his arm and, within a few seconds, the water was mostly gone.

     The Salazzle’s eyes sparked with determination. “That Sandslash must be a regional variant. One second.” She grabbed her notebook and marched towards the door.

     “Miss Salazzle?” Archie woofed confusedly.

     Loge raised a hand. “Emilia, I don’t think...”

     Emilia Reptilia opened the door and held out her notebook. “Excuse me, sir! Emilia Reptilia, Silver Coast Gazette, behavior scientist, PR representative, etcetera! Can I bother you for an inter...”

     Heikki roared past her. “...busy, sorry...!” was all she could make out.

     Emilia licked the snow off her face. “Maybe later then!” she replied before shutting the door. “Also, it’s cold out there.”

     Loge heaved a sigh. “Guess my story gets to wait...”

     Luka patted the Zoroark’s head. “Maybe you can tell it once we’re settled at the house?”

     “It won’t be the same,” Loge lamented.

     Kit sighed and finished drying himself off, peering out at the cloudy, snowy evening sky.

“Sorry, foxy, one more time?”

     “Med. Ved. Ev.”

     Loge blinked and popped a powdered sugar-coated piece of fried batter into his mouth. “That’s kind of a wacky name.”

     “If you have anything snarky to say about the groundskeeper, get it out of your system now,” the Delphox ordered as he breathed into his hands. The storm had passed and the cloud cover was easing but the frigid air’s temperature still sat well below his comfortable threshold.

     Emilia readjusted her pack as the four friends finished the hike towards the cabin. “It sounds northern.”

     “The detective told me his family’s originally from Sosnagrad,” Luka chimed in. “Far northern mining village, if my memory serves.”

     Emilia’s eyes twinkled. “Really now? I happen to know a lick or two of Kuremic.”

     The Zoroark licked some of the powder off his lip. “Where did you learn that?”

     “Just picked up some snips talking with people back home,” the Salazzle grinned as she cleared her throat. “Ya kupil lug na uzhin.”

     Loge shuddered a little. “Why does that sound like a language I don’t want to be yelled at in?”

     “I thought it sounded quite nice,” the Lucario commented.

     “Watch, we’ll find out she said she’s wearing a sandwich on her head or something,” Kit replied.

     “I bought an onion for dinner, was what I said,” Emilia corrected. They approached the small stone path to the cabin and the Salazzle overtook him. “In fact, I’m so confident with the language, I insist I represent us in front of Med...Mer...Marv...”

     “Medvedev,” Luka assisted.

     “The groundskeeper!” she finished. “You only get to make one first impression, and speaking his native language is perfect for the occasion!”

     Kit sighed. “I guess if you want to. Just don’t embarrass us, alright?”

     “I promise I won’t!” the Salazzle stated, her snout in the air. She spun around and politely knocked on the door. A few stomps resonated behind it, and the door opened as far as the chain lock on the other side would allow. A Beartic peered out of the crack, scanning the four visitors with an icy stare.

     Loge swallowed nervously and raised the container of funnel cakes his way.

     Emilia enthusiastically raised a hand and confidently exclaimed, “Do svidanya!”

     “Goodbye to you too,” Medvedev said back, and slammed the door shut.

     Emilia’s tongue flipped in and out of her mouth for a few seconds.

     Everyone else stared at her blankly.

     “...maybe just Arcean will do,” the Salazzle smiled politely and she went to knock again.

     “Oh no, you don’t,” Kit reprimanded, grabbing her wrist. “Luka, you’re the only one who’s not banned from interacting with doors.”

     “It’s an honor, Detective,” the Lucario nodded as he stepped forward. He knocked cordially and called, “Mr. Medvedev? We’re guests of the Blues. I think they were expecting us?”

     A growl of confusion came from the other side, and Luka heard the bolt slide back. “Say that then! Thought you were realtors or something.” The door squealed open and the Beartic beckoned the group in. “Come in. It’s cold out there.”

     Kit entered the cabin and looked around. It was roughly in line with the description he got from Mr. Blue: a two-level cabin with a roomy common area and kitchen on the main floor. A few closets near the entryway, presumably for storing skis and other snow equipment, dotted the narrow hallway to the living room, where a lit fireplace kept the cabin at a far more comfortable temperature. Some comfortable furnishings and blankets completed the décor.

     “You picked good time to arrive,” Medvedev commented as he ushered everyone inside. “Storm’s still manageable. Not good weekend for weather though.”

     Loge munched some more of his snack. “What, is it bound to get worse or?”

     “Comes and goes. But you live here most of your life and you notice trends.”

     The Zoroark scowled. “The weatherman lied to us.”

     “He tried his best,” Luka shrugged. “Who knows, maybe it’ll blow past and this is the worst of it.”

     “Eh, just because no sun doesn’t mean bad ski trip,” Medvedev stated, crossing his arms. “Sun is nice but snow helps slopes. Should be calmer in morning so plan around then, eh?”

     Kit nodded. “We could probably do with a rental, if you have...”

     Something clanged loudly from underneath the floorboards and Medvedev immediately rolled his eyes. “Aaaaaaaah, eta glupaya veshch,” he growled and marched for one of the doors. “Stay put. Be back soon.”

     Emilia blinked. “Can we do any...”

     “Nyet, you’re guests. Settle in. This my job,” the Beartic commanded before yanking open a door and storming down the dark stairs for the basement. About three steps in, he continued his rant. “Ya pytayus i pytayus i yesli eto ne chto-to, to drugoye. Idi syuda! Chto seychas ne tak? Oh, kak...” He paused momentarily to loudly cough. “Kak eto proizoshlo? Ty kotel! Kak ty mozhesh' zhech' vodu?!”

     Loge simply stared at the door. “Uh, anyone know what he’s saying?”

     “Do we want to?” Luka asked.

     “I’m going to assume no,” Emilia blushed.

     Kit slid his pack off and looked around the cabin a bit more. “Well, we should at least get settled in. Find bedrooms, unpack a little...”

     The Zoroark’s ears perked. “Groceries?”

     Emilia slipped out of her pack; the bag made a loud thud that made Kit think it would fall into the basement for a moment. “I’ll help!”

     “Don’t overspend, okay?” the Delphox reminded. “We have a lot of stuff to get this weekend so...”

     “We’ve got it, foxy!” Loge cheered as he grabbed Emilia’s wrist and the two dashed back out into the snow.

     Luka blinked, then turned back to Kit as the door shut. “He’s going to overspend isn’t he?”

     “Probably,” Kit said with a shake of his head. He massaged the top of his muzzle as Medvedev continued his muffled basement ranting.

The soot covered Beartic reemerged from the basement about a half hour later with his toolbox. “There. Furnace and boiler fixed. They’ll behave now,” he sternly stated, locking the door behind him.

     “Thanks!” yelled Loge as he tested one of the pasta noodles he was cooking on the stove. “Hmm...couple more minutes and these should be finished. Care for some dinner?”

     “Ah nyet, no need...”

     “We insist,” the Salazzle replied as she set out some dishes on the dining table. “Consider it thanks for not letting us freeze.”

     “And also we need to shovel off a week’s worth of food over two days and change...” Kit muttered to himself as he set a jar of sauce next to Loge.

     “Leftovers for the ride home!” Loge retorted, then stopped and peered up from the pot, lost in thought. “Though can you eat when you’re being teleported? How do you eat? Oooooh, that must be what soul food is.”

     Luka peered out the window again. “Snow’s easing up. Might be able to do something tomorrow after all.”

     “Have you done skiing before?” Medvedev inquired.

     “First time,” Kit replied. “We’re from Silver Coast.”

     “Ah. Then you’ll want to stay with simpler runs. Just follow green circles and you’ll be good,” Medvedev advised as he helped himself to a chair at the kitchen table. “And make esses as you go down. Big ones. Helps control speed.”

     “You sound experienced,” Emilia noted.

     “Was world-class skier when younger! Intercontinental Circuit. Seventeen medals, three wins.” Medvedev flexed his strong ursine arm and put a hand to his bicep.

     “Not bad,” Loge grinned, then blinked and turned around, revealing his customized cooking apron. “Wait, then how’d you end up just doing groundskeeping stuff?”

     The Beatic shrugged. “Eh, retired. Had my fun and age catches everyone. But liked living here, wanted to give back to town still.” He cocked his head. “Also, who’s Braixen on apron?”

     “Still don’t know why you packed that...” the Delphox muttered into his hands.

     “You know I can’t cook without it!” the Zoroark defensively barked before his ears perked. “Oh. Oh! I remembered what I was going to say on the walk here. Mr. Molotov, how long have you been living here?”

     “Since Medvedev was kid. Why?”

     “What do you know about the cabin in the backcountry?”

     Medvedev paused and looked up for a moment. “Ah, Patton’s cabin. Old settler’s home from century or two back.”

     “It’s haunted, isn’t it?” the Lucario interrupted.

     Loge glared back. “Oh come on! The entire point of scary stories is the mystery and intrigue. Kit doesn’t just walk into crime scenes and say the butler did it!”

     “Except when he did. Cavandish Estates. You were there.”

     The Zoroark grumbled to himself as he drained the pasta. “You people are no fun.”

     “Well, I’m interested in it personally,” Emilia smiled as she rifled around in her bag for her notebook. “Let’s hear it Loge! You’re our resident...uh...spooky storyteller?”

     “I was going to say ‘occultist,’” Luka chimed in. “It’s got a ring.”

     “We would also accept ‘person who reads way too many tabloids,’” Kit muttered with an eye roll.

     “Tell story, Zoroark,” Medvedev encouraged. “Ghost tales excellent for stormy nights, rain or snow.”

     “That’s more like it!” Loge toothily grinned.

So back in the day, an exploration team found gold veins up in the mountains we’re next to. When they came back and broke the news, a whole mess of people ran up the Worldspine to stake their claim, and lo and behold, Monarch Ridge was founded. You strike gold up here, and you’ll live like a king for the rest of your life.

     One of the prospectors, Patton the Rhydon, settled down on one of the peaks, near a stream. It was a ways out from where everyone else was building homes of their own, but the stream meant that all he really had to do for work was just step out his front door. Every couple weeks or so, he would come down from his cabin to the main drag, visit the bank and local jeweler, and sell whatever he found. Nobody ever knew how much was in his rucksack each time, and obviously the bankers and the jewelers kept quiet too since it wasn’t anyone’s business. But he never seemed to be struggling with his job.

     One day, he crosses paths with the town belle, this charming Sawsbuck gal he’d see almost every day he was in town, called Penny. They were sweet with each other most days, they’d sit down in the local lounge, swap stories, usual deal. Not this time though. Sun goes down, the miner asks if she’d be willing to have some dinner with him, and the two make their way back up to the cabin. Should be happily ever after at that stage right?

     Not exactly. See, Monarch Ridge was still a new town, and new towns tend to have lawbreakers. And that’s where the Whitefangs enter the picture. Up to this point, they had the idea that this Rhydon was striking it big from his home at the peak and was keeping to himself so nobody would figure out how much money he was raking in. Sure enough, they got to the banker the day before, and after...asking nicely, they find out this guy has hundreds of thousands of Poké stashed away. That’s on the order of millions, tens of millions, in today’s money. So you might think they started making a plan to steal it proper. But the boss had another idea. If that’s how much money he can make over a year or two, then what about five years? Or ten? Or more than that?

     That cabin was the sweet spot, but Patton owned the land it was on and the land around it. It wasn’t worth getting arrested by the sheriff for trespassing over the few hundred Poké they’d get over less than a day’s work.

     So...that only really left one option, didn’t it? Mind you, nobody managed to ever prove this was them, but the prevailing theory either way is this: Penny’s done work with them before. Even town sweethearts like her need to make money somehow. So maybe she tipped the Whitefangs off to where Patton would be and when. Either they twisted her arm, er, hoof, whatever, or they made sure her love was worth the price.

     The night creeps on outside the cabin. Beautiful and clear outside. Moon’s shining, there’s a light breeze blowing, super romantic. The Sawsbuck and Rhydon are enjoying themselves, and the more she talks with him, the more she’s falling for him, and the more she’s losing track of time. And neither of them were ready for what was lurking outside the cabin, in the wooded area around it.

     Details of the attack proper are a little fuzzy. Next day, the snow has ramped up to a full-on blizzard, and Sheriff Shiftry’s on his way to the cabin. He had a few questions for Penny and that was where the townsfolk pointed him. He knuckles down, hikes up the trail, and knocks on the door. Nobody answers. He tries again. Still nothing. Something’s off, so he decides to make this a welfare check. He knocks on the door a third time. It creaks open. He gets ready for a fight and heads inside.

     He comes back to town a half hour later and makes the announcement: Patton the Rhydon was dead and Penny the Sawsbuck was missing. Considering how much he did to get Monarch Ridge off the ground, that’s pretty sad news for a lot of the townsfolk, and they petition to have the cabin sectioned off as a historical site, in memoriam. Mayor signs off on it right after the sheriff finishes up business there and the townsfolk hold a small service for the quietest but most important people in local history. Who killed him? Well, the Whitefangs were the obvious suspects but tried at the sheriff’s office might, he couldn’t get the evidence on them. And with Penny missing as a possible star witness, the case had nowhere to go and just ran cold after a few years.

     But there’s one last twist to this. See, the Whitefangs still wanted their gems and gold and everything that came with it. Trespassing on private land was dangerous, but now that it belonged to the town? Well, they were part of the town, and the sheriff’s deputies couldn’t be everywhere at once, especially somewhere up there. So soon as the sun sets, the gang rounds up ten of their toughest guys and hikes right back up to the cabin, plenty of mining and panning gear along with them. Plan was probably to spend the night seeing what was so special about Patton’s Creek and rake in the Poké until sunup.

     The next day comes, and the sheriff decides to check out the cabin as part of his patrol. You know, it was sanctified as a historical site the day before, doesn’t hurt to see how it’s holding up. He looks around the cabin. Still looks good. He looks in through the window. Still fine.

     Then he checks around the creek. He steps on something and nearly loses his footing. He looks down, thinks he sees something, brushes it off...

     It’s one of the Whitefangs. Frozen in the snow.

     He immediately calls for backup and the next two hours are spent around the creek, removing snow and identifying the remains of the ten outlaws, all frozen solid and buried by snowfall the night before. The case is still open to this day from what I heard. Every once and a while you’ll have a hiker make the trek up to see it, but nobody has ever tried going in that cabin since.

The pasta slid off of Emilia’s fork and landed back on her plate with a wet smack.

     Medvedev heaved a heavy sigh and spun his fork. “Had no idea. Just thought it was neat tourist attraction up to now.”

     “Well, I wasn’t trying to cramp the mood or anything,” Loge replied as his ears drooped. “I just like keeping my ears to the ground. You know, local gossip, rumors, ghost stories...”

     Kit raised an eyebrow from across the table. “Is this going where I think it is?”

     “No!” the Zoroark promptly answered. “Well, maybe. Possibly? I think if it’s convenient then...”

     The Delphox slipped his forehead into his hand and slid a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth.

     “Trail to cabin is closed until Heikki can clear way. Ski patrol’s orders.” Medvedev mentioned. “How long you stay?”

     “Just over the weekend,” Luka replied.

     “Hmm. If one was in hurry, they could ski to it...”

     Loge’s face lit up immediately. “You mean it?”

     “But route you’d take is in backcountry. Out of bounds too. You have problem there and you’re lucky if anyone hears you cry for help.”

     “In other words, it’s dangerous, stupid, and possibly illegal?” Kit summarized.

     “Sounds like a normal Saturday for me,” Loge shrugged.

     The Delphox sighed.

     Loge turned his head to Emilia and Luka. “What’d I do?”

     Luka helped himself to a second serving of pasta. “Far be it for me to speak on the detective’s behalf, but I think one of the goals of a vacation is to not think about job responsibilities?”

     “Well yeah, but...”

     Emilia smiled thinly. “That was a really gripping story either way. Maybe we can visit it once things clear up a bit more?”

     The Zoroark looked like he had more to say, but instead he let out a heavy exhale and turned back to Kit. “Sorry, foxy, I wasn’t trying to pile on or anything.”

     “No, you heard a neat story about where we were going and thought I’d be interested,” Kit blankly replied. “Nothing worth apologizing over, just not on my to-do list right now.”

     “Ah, to-do list. Reminds me,” the Beartic stated as he stood up from the table and marched back over to his toolbox. Emilia leaned back to see what he was doing, mostly out of curiosity. He took out a small, tarnished metal loop the size of her wrist, gave it a quick affectionate kiss, then set it aside. He dug around in his bag and eventually found what he was looking for. “I checked everything in Skater’s Paradise already, but I give you address in case something else breaks. Emergencies called that for reason.”

     “We appreciate everything, Mr. Matryoshka,” Loge called back. “Ten out of ten groundskeeper!”

     “Bah, Blues good people. Their friends are my friends.” He reloaded his toolbox, gently placing the ring back in what looked like its own compartment, and stomped back over to the table and handed a small business card to Luka. “If I don’t answer, leave note in mail slot, yes?”

     “Will do,” the Lucario nodded. “Thank you for your service.”

     “Good, very good,” Medvedev cheered and sat back down. “Now then, more pasta! Very well made.”

     “I like this guy, Kit!” Loge smirked. “And you wanted me to leave my apron at home.”

     “Does it help?” Medvedev asked.

     Kit tried to answer that question first but lost out to the Zoroark. “With the cooking? Ten thousand percent!”

     “I see. I order one when I get home tonight.”

     Loge flinched. “Well...uh, hate to say it but...”

     “Based in Silver Coast probably, yes, yes. Can wait for delivery if apron is that good.”

     Emilia snickered into her arm.

     “Sadly, Loge’s is custom made,” Luka interjected. “But I’m sure he’d be happy to make one once we’re back.”

     “Would you?”

     Loge blinked. “Well, I, uh...I can try?”

     “Horosho. Maybe all I needed for better cooking was dancing Braixen on front...what wrong with Delphox?”

     Everyone glanced over at Kit, or they would have had both of his hands not been covering his face.

     Loge cocked his head. “Oh, he does that sometimes.”

“Here. C’mon up.”

     The Riolu grunted and jumped for his friend’s hand. He managed to grab it after a couple of attempts and was hauled up to the ledge. He collapsed onto his back and tried to catch his breath again.

     “There you go!” cheered the second, magenta colored Riolu, as she took a seat on a rock and opened a water canteen fastened around her waist. “You alright, Luka?”

     “Yeah, just...” the blue Riolu panted. “Just need a minute.”

     “Well, don’t take too long. We’re almost at the peak.” She helped herself to a lengthy drink.

     “You...hah...you couldn’t find an easier trail for us to take?”

     “Why would we do that?”

     Luka sat up and scowled at his friend. “It’s hard to spar when you’re having a heart attack.”

     “I like this, actually. If there’s a beaten trail then that means people regularly come up here. Kinda ruins the theme for me.” She tossed the canteen to her friend. “I win by default if you go back down, by the way.”

     Luka grumbled and took a sip of water. “Not on your life.”

     “That’s more like it,” chuckled the second Riolu. “Bet The Swords make climbs like this all the time.”

     “Like this?” Luka repeated. “Mr. Terrakion maybe. Then he’d probably use a Rollcall Orb or something to haul everyone else up.”

     The magenta Riolu looked almost disgusted. “Now that’s just cheating.”

     “How?” retorted her counterpart. “He’s the best at that job, and there’s tools to help everyone get where they need to go after he does it.”

     “Master Yugo wouldn’t let me pass my tests for free just because you did them earlier.”

     “Exploration and adventuring is done as a team though,” Luka pointed out, then turned to his friend. “We’re a team, right?”

     The other Riolu smiled and walked over to Luka. “Sure we are,” she stated before grabbing the canteen out of his hand and shaking it playfully. “But I still expect you to pull your weight. I don’t do free carries!”

     Luka got up to his feet and dusted himself off. “I’ll be fine, thanks. Long as there’s no more cliffs like that.”

     “Like I said, we’re almost there. See? The fog’s blocking it a bit but...”

     Luka squinted, but in the deep mists and fog he could just make out a flat-topped mountain peak about a mile in the distance. “The site of our battle?”

     “The site of our battle!” she beamed. She put the canteen away and started to press on. “Come on, if we get a move on, we’ll be there before noon.”

     Luka hesitated, then clenched a fist.

     She turned around on a foot. “What’s up?”

     He stared forcefully at her and clapped his free hand around his fist. “I won’t lose. Not today, Sanji.”

     Sanji blinked, then chuckled and turned back towards the peak. “We’ll see.”

Luka’s nose and ears twitched as the scent of cooking eggs and the sound of sizzling iron drifted by. “Hey...hey, Luka!”

     Someone prodded his shoulder and the Lucario jolted awake.

     Loge recoiled a bit. “Sorry, sorry. I was trying to be nice.”

     “It’s...it’s okay,” Luka replied after a deep breath. He sat up in his bed and saw Loge fluffing some scrambled eggs in a skillet. “...should you not be in the kitchen with that?”

     “Nope! We’re hitting the slopes, so Kit and Emilia ran off to get our rentals, which means I’m on breakfast duty!” He took a small plate out of one of his apron’s pouches and, with a skillful flick of the wrist, flipped some eggs out of the skillet and onto the plate. “Also you slept in, so I figured delivering this would be faster.”

     “The gesture’s appreciated,” Luka bowed politely. “I’m sorry if I imposed at all.”

     “Think nothing of it,” the Zoroark grinned as he flipped a fork out of the pouch and handed it and the plate over. “...you sure you slept alright?”

     A slight eyebrow raise and grunt of confusion betrayed Luka’s otherwise neutral expression. “Oh, yes. Just a strange dream or two. I’ll live.”

     Loge smiled and shrugged after a second. “Well, with any luck this’ll help perk you up. Make it fast, okay? The gear should be here any second.”

     “Certainly,” Luka nodded. “I’ll be right there.”

     Loge scampered out of the bedroom as Luka sampled his cooking. He peered out the window as he ate. The sky was still overcast, but the heavy snowfall from last night had eased up to a small flurry. In the distance, he could make out a few skiers and lifts on the mountainsides, even if they were lost a little to the slight whiteout.

     “...what was that about?” he quietly pondered to himself.

Emilia Reptilia perused the directory at the bottom of the hill for a minute before slipping a pair of goggles over her eyes. “Alright, Lift #1 should be off to the left over there.”

     “Why that one?” Loge asked as he fiddled with the straps on his snowboard.

     “Medvedev said that’s the one for the easier runs,” Kit explained. “Think of the lift numbers like a one-to-ten difficulty scale.”

     “Intuitive,” Luka noted as he hopped up from a bench. “Hopefully the heavy snow stays away for a while still.”

     “I asked the guys at the store,” the Salazzle added as she pushed herself towards the lifts. “It should stay like this for most of the morning, but, well, the weather changes on the spot up here so...”

     “We’ll make the most of it,” Kit reassured. He tried to get caught up with Emilia, then glided to a halt when he saw the Zoroark was not moving. “You coming or what?”

     “Yeah, yeah, the strap just feels off,” Loge called back, growling under his breath.

     “Can I help?” Luka offered.

     “Nah, this should be fast,” Loge replied, waving his friends off. “You guys go do your first run. I’ll link back up with you.”

     “If you’re sure,” the Lucario said as he took off.

     “See you soon!” Emilia smiled, and the rest of the trio headed out.

     After a couple minutes of effort, Loge finally managed to finish cinching the leather straps around his foot, then stood up, dusted the snow off of himself, and kicked off the ground his free foot. Pleasantly, the lift near the iced-over sign labeled Lift #1 did not seem to have a line for some reason. They must have just opened it, Loge assumed, and he glided over towards the entrance before halting for a blue Sandslash in a red jacket.

     Loge politely waved back. “Morning, sir...oh hey, you’re the snowplow guy!”

     “Can’t make a whole living off of clearing snow, eh?” Heikki chuckled. “Need a lift?”

     “Yes, please!” the Zoroark enthusiastically nodded.

     “Alright, just be careful, okay? Don’t go out of bounds, take things slow, mind the trees...”

     “Yep, I’ll manage,” Loge confirmed as he headed for an open chair.

     “Have fun then!” Heikki replied. A chair attached to rope swung around on the large gear and caught Loge. He helped himself to the seat, and before long he was in the air ascending to the peak.

     Heikki watched Loge take off and then noticed the sign next to the lift. He sighed and walked over to it. “Still haven’t thawed out yet, eh?” he asked himself before raising his clawed hands. Hardly a second later, the icy patch shattered and fell into the snow.

     The Sandslash dusted his hands off proudly. “Much better,” he beamed as he walked back to his post for the day: Lift #11 to the backcountry.

Loge slid off of his chair and boarded his way towards the signage for the various trails at the top of Lift #1. The plan was to take a shorter run down the peak and try catching his friends for the ride back up. Which meant he was effectively racing himself. He grinned toothily at the prospect, set his goggles down, readjusted his winter hat, and looked over his options. “Let’s see, Mr. Macadamia said to look for the green circles...” he recalled.

     None of the trails had such a demarcation. The only shape or color he could see next to the names were black diamonds. Some of them even had two. Loge hummed to himself and just glanced over the names.

     Backbreaker Ridge.

     “That doesn’t sound healthy.”

     Thousand Knives.

     “I should probably only start with one.”

     Widowmaker.

     “Nah, that one’s for the ladies.”

     The Percolator.

     “Oooh, I’ve never been percolated before!”

     He steered himself towards the start of the trail, and cocked his head a little bit as he slowly approached the descent.

     “For the beginner lifts, this slope looks a little steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee...!!”

Kit’s ear twitched as a panicked shriek reverberated up and down the mountain. A handful of tourists stopped what they were doing and looked up near the treeline, near the backcountry.

     “The heck was that?” Emilia asked.

     “Sounded like a bird,” Luka commented.

     The Delphox slipped his eyes into his hand. “No, I know what that is.”

     “How can you tell?” Luka chimed in.

     An echoing yell of “KIIIIIIIIIIT!! DO SOMETHIIIIIING!!!” came back in reply.

     “Never mind,” he added.

     “He’ll be fine,” Emilia said, forcing a grin. “Ski patrol will find him. Long as he doesn’t go out of bounds or anything, right?”

     Kit turned to Emilia with a raised eyebrow.

     Her tongue flipped in and out of her mouth for a second. “What did I do?”

     “You know there’s an eighty percent chance he’ll do that now, right?”

     Luka patted the Delphox’s shoulder. “I propose we continue our run and if Loge isn’t back by then or doesn’t get in touch with us, we’ll get ski patrol. He’s very sturdy for a Zoroark.”

     Kit peered back up at the peak. A series of short pained yelps and exclamations greeted him back.

     He shook his head slowly and turned back for the lifts.

“Doh! Dow! Ack! Oof! Bam! Geh! Ow! George!”

     The snowboard caught itself by a tree branch on either end and Loge bounced up and down to a stop, suspended by the plank, upside down, with multiple twigs and pine needles in his fur.

     “That was awesome!” he cheered, then looked around the area he stopped in. Unfortunately, the majority of it was impenetrable pine tree forest, but a few feet in the distance he could make out a small clearing and, if his ears weren’t deceiving him, a trickling stream. His field of view being inverted was a bother, but unless he was mistaken, he also spotted a small snow-covered hut as well.

     “Must be ski patrol,” Loge grunted as he reached up to his footholds. “Wonder if they can help me get...”

     The branches cracked, and a second later there was a Zoroark-shaped hole in the snowbank.

     Loge dragged himself to his feet, shook the snow off of himself, and removed the snowboard from his feet before shuffling his way towards the hut, through the deep powder. However, the closer he got to it, the more details he noticed about it. Like the intersecting log structure, or lack of any sort of signage. Not even a red cross like he saw on Heikki’s jacket a few minutes ago.

     It was slightly baffling, and Loge’s gut was starting to tell him maybe he should move along, but the rest of his body was saying that it would much prefer not smacking into trees like a pinball, and that was the ultimate deciding point for him.

     “Hello?” he cautiously called out. “I, uh...could use a ride down from here?”

     No reply came, apart from a squeak of metal and a clack of wood from behind what was now clearly a log cabin. The snow shallowed slightly as he went around to see what the noise was. He started to feel his feet go numb, but feeling returned immediately as he viewed the stream he heard. Alongside the iced-over bank, dipping a small sieve into the partially frozen water, stood an antique mining machine. The metallic squeal returned as two wooden arms lifted the sieve out of the water, after which a platform turned in place to shake away the silt and small gravel. Nearby, a jug leaked water into the stream, and started to rise back up on a pulley once it had lost enough weight. The sieve went back into the stream as a small gutter poured water from upstream into the jug again.

     Loge knew exactly what that machine was. And shortly afterward, he realized where he was.

     “Patton’s cabin!” he beamed as he turned back to look at the structure. He crossed his arms with a toothy grin. “Take that, Mr. Macarena! It’ll take more than a little weather to...”

     A chilly gust of wind cut him off. The Zoroark shivered and looked up at the sky. The cloud cover had grown thicker since he got on the lift. A snowflake fluttered onto his nose and melted.

     He glanced at the front door of the cabin.

     The wind intensified.

     “S-sorry in advance,” Loge apologized to it as he trudged his way towards the door. He stepped onto the porch, stomped his feet a couple times to remove the snow, and gripped the antiquated doorknob. He would normally feel bad about intruding on a site of historical significance, and he also felt slightly worried about being the first to enter a presumably haunted cabin for the first time since...well, it became haunted. But compared to being frozen solid...

     “...please don’t be locked?”

     He gently turned the knob and pushed on the door.

“Zoroark. Pretty standard height, weight...”

     “Five-foot-three, one-eighty pounds, black and red fur, turqouise eyes.”

     Kit glanced over at the Salazzle to his right.

     “What? Specifics are important.”

     “I’d like to think she knows what a Zoroark looks like,” Kit replied.

     The lodge went silent for a minute, and Luka went to say something.

     “I know that was stupid, don’t say anything,” the Delphox sighed, his face in his hand.

     The Absol working the desk finished muttering something into a Fartalk Orb and turned her attention back to the trio. The name Anita was stitched into her bright red jacket. “Do you guys know where he might have gone? Would he still be in the village here or?”

     “No, he said he’d catch back up with us,” Luka replied. “So presumably he went up the same lift we did.”

     A blue-colored Sandslash stepped in and walked towards the group. “If I can ask, which lift did you go up?”

     Emilia turned around. “Mr. Snowplow!”

     “Heikki,” he reintroduced himself. “And I ask because I helped him up Lift #11 about a half hour ago.”

     Kit crossed his arms. “We went up Lift #1. So...”

     “Is he good at snowboarding?” Heikki asked.

     “We’re all novices, I think,” Luka stated.

     Heikki rested his chin in his hand. “Hmmm, #11 goes up to the backcountry. A lot of ungroomed areas and hazards up there. Very difficult.”

     “Which might make finding him harder than normal,” Anita noted. “I’ll send a team up there now, but...”

     Luka raised a hand. “Officer?”

     The Absol blinked. “I’m not really law enforcement, but go ahead.”

     “If you don’t mind me offering assistance, I should be able to locate him without too much hassle.”

     “I can’t let you do that, Mr. Lucario,” Heikki cut in. “We appreciate the offer, but we really can’t take you up on it without putting your well-being on the line as well as your friend’s.”

     “Master Luka is an expert in the practice of aura tracking,” Emilia replied. “He knows what Loge’s aura looks like as well, so to speak, so he can track exactly where he went.”

     “I’ll go with him as well,” Kit offered. “In case anything bad happens. Buddy system and everything.”

     “Are you certain about all of this?” Heikki asked, a tinge of concern in his voice.

     “We’ll likely be faster than just randomly searching the area,” Luka firmly answered.

     “W-wait, what am I going to do until then?” Emilia cut in. “I want to help out as well!”

     “If they need anything after they find your friend, you can help us with getting it to them,” Heikki answered. “It’s not a glamorous post, but a necessary one. It’s good to have someone at home base.”

     Emilia grunted under her breath. “I’m not completely useless you know...”

     “We’ll find him, Emilia,” Kit patted her shoulder. “And you’re not useless. Luka needs backup, and between the two of us, I’m more powerful than...”

     The Salazzle scowled at the Delphox. Her tongue flicked out of her mouth.

     “...I didn’t mean it like that.”

     Emilia slid her backpack off and reached a hand into it. She took out a crystal orb a few seconds later and shoved it into Kit’s hands. “Here. Fartalk Orb, like the ones they have here. I have the second one. Just...let me know when you find him.”

     Kit looked down at the sphere, then heaved a sigh and tucked it away in one of his fur sleeves, near his branch. “We will.”

     Anita shuddered a little. “Uh, if you are doing this, you should try and be fast about it. I sense another blizzard inbound. Twenty minutes or so.”

     “We’ll be back as soon as we can,” Luka stated, turning for the door. “Detective?”

     Kit nodded and followed him out. “Right. Stay safe, Emilia.”

     The Salazzle waved the two of them off, with a distinct lack of amiability in her gestures.

     The hut went quiet for a moment, then Heikki cleared his throat. “Uh, Ms. Salazzle, didn’t you say you had some questions you wanted to ask me yesterday?”

     Emilia stared out the door for a second longer, then shook her head and rifled through her bag again. “Yeah. I think I did...”

Sanji clambered up over one final ledge and wiped her forehead off. “We’re here!”

    “Finally...” Luka muttered to himself. He waited for Sanji to disappear over the crest, then swung his arms and leapt up to the ledge. He threw the back of his right foot over the cliff and, with one last heave, pulled the rest of himself up as well.

    The magenta colored Riolu stood at the center of the plateau, arms outstretched and head hanging back like she was enjoying a midday shower. “Master Kira. Middle Master Seong. Grandmaster Shailin. And now us.”

    Luka paced over to the ledge. A thick fog cover obscured whatever laid after the steep, high, scree-covered slope down. He kicked a pebble off the edge and watched it soar into the grey oblivion below.

    “Hey, why do you think they call this place The Dragon’s Nest anyway?”

    “What do you mean?” Luka asked. “Maybe they just thought it sounded cool.”

    “No way, that’s way too boring,” retorted Sanji as she paced around the circular mountaintop. “Seriously, Luka, read a book sometime. We don’t have a library at the monastery for nothing.”

    Luka shrugged and crossed his arms. “If you know, why are you asking me?”

     “When the first monks settled the monastery and were exploring the backyard, this was one of the first places they scouted. And you bet they had their own sparring tournament up here too. Grandmaster Shailin was the winner. Defeated all eight of her opponents, and when she dealt the final blow to Master Kira, the ground shook. A guttural growl shook the bones of everyone in attendance. And a couple of the masters claimed they saw a giant green snakelike dragon circling the plateau, down in the mists.”

    The blue Riolu blinked back at Sanji. “A dragon?”

    “That’s what the tales say,” the magenta Riolu smirked back toothily. “The masters left and over time the trail up here eroded and now most people admire it from a distance. Depending on who you ask, the dragon was a bad omen that was trying to intimidate the masters away from his home. But the librarian believes that their tournament was so amazing, Rayquaza himself came down from his home in the sky to watch.”

    Luka’s eyebrow raised. “That Rayquaza?”

    “Yeah!”

    “That...sounds unlikely.”

    Sanji’s ears drooped. “Killjoy.”

    “I’m just calling it how I see it,” Luka replied. “That’s the sort of thing that would be recorded and enshrined somewhere, not just weathered away to antiquity, right?”

     Sanji stretched and traced an arc in the gravel with her foot. “Well, if it is true, then it’d be cool if we could verify it, huh?”

    Luka shook his head and walked over to the opposite end of the plateau. “I feel like Rayquaza has more important things to do than watch two Riolus spar on a random mountain.”

    “Hey, I’m just doing what the books tell me to. Don’t act like it wouldn’t be awesome either way.”

    Luka did not reply, and instead just clapped his hand into his fist and bowed towards Sanji.

    Sanji snickered and mirrored him. “If you give anything besides 100%, I’ll know.”

    “You really want to do this?” Luka asked.

    Sanji glared determinedly at Luka and slid her right foot behind her left, still grinning playfully. “More than anything.”

    Luka prepared his stance and took a deep breath in to center himself...

The Lucario exhaled and opened his eyes as they faded back from gold to blue. “He went another few hundred feet or so down the moguls, then went off that ramp before the bend there and into the woods.”

     Kit glanced over and saw lengths of orange rope tied off between the trees on either side of the trail. “Let me guess, out of bounds?”

     “It would seem so,” Luka reluctantly replied.

     Kit sighed. “Let’s get this over with then,” he said as he took out the Fartalk Orb. “Emilia, you there?”

     “Yeah, you find him?” the Salazzle’s voice answered from the crystal.

     “No, but we’re on his trail. We think he went out of bounds into the backcountry.”

     “Shoot...are you going after him?”

     The Delphox slowly glided over to Luka and held the orb up to him. “We can track him down easily enough, but we need to find a way back to a marked trail afterward,” Luka reported.

     Kit took his branch out and set it alight. “If they don’t mind me carving up the backcountry a little, I can use some pyrokinesis to clear a path there. Then we can just take it back once we locate Loge.”

     A second of silence came in reply, then Emilia chimed back in. “Heikki says that’s fine as long as you only do it past the orange rope. He doesn’t want you messing up any of the actual trails. Oh, and no forest fires. That’s also important.”

     “He has our word,” Luka responded. “We’ll call again once he’s located.”

     “Understood.”

     The orb lost its glow and Kit tucked it away again. “Is it just me or does Emilia sound...off?”

     “Could just be the orb?” the Lucario suggested.

     “No, I mean more like...” Kit started, then shook his head. “Never mind. Let’s find Loge.”

     “This way.” Luka started back down the trail again, keeping a wide angle with his skis to stay slow. Kit mimicked the technique as well, and a few minutes later they halted again near the lip of the jump.

     Luka meditated again for a second to make sure he had the right route, then peered up at the cloudy sky. “Your friend is very aerodynamic, Detective.”

     “How far?”

     “I’d say...four hundred meters roughly?”

     “Hmm, new record.”

     The Lucario fell to his side and started removing his skis. “It’ll be faster and easier to walk from here.”

     Kit nodded, then shivered as a gust of wind kicked up. “That Absol called it. Storm’s starting to kick up.”

     “We’ll just have to beat it to Loge then,” Luka said determinedly. He stood up and jammed his skis into a snowbank near the orange rope.

     “Flames will help as well,” Kit added as he took his off, jamming the branch into the bank for stability. “Long as I don’t need to make too many of them.”

     “I will try not to exhaust you overmuch then.” Luka shut his eyes and made sure he had Loge’s flight pattern correct. Kit shuffled through the bank and made a few gestures with his free hand. The flame on the branch grew to the size of a small fireball and erupted into a small cone before him, melting the snow or merely blasting it away altogether. He had to focus a bit more than normal to make sure none of the trees were licked by the flames on accident, but nevertheless a wet but clear gravel path was cleared in little time.

     The two pressed on into the backcountry, with Luka mostly leading the way while Kit’s psychic flames made the trek all the more bearable. The snowfall had become gradually more dense the further into the woods they went, and the wind had picked up more than before as well. The conditions were not unfamiliar to the Lucario, but Kit had to shield his eyes more than once from the loose powder being swept up.

     The hike went for only a handful of minutes but to the Delphox it felt closer to an hour before Luka stuck out an arm to halt him. “His aura lands here,” he stated.

     Kit waited for the wind to calm down and then examined the area. Before them was a lone log cabin, with a running creek behind it if the sound was anything to go by. A small plume of white smoke emerged from the chimney as well. He turned to his right and saw a Loge-shaped indent a few feet deep in a nearby bank, surrounded by a handful of broken branches and pine needles, along with the signs of someone shuffling near and around the cabin before eventually stepping up to the front door.

     “Seems simple enough,” the Delphox shrugged. “Crashed into the trees, fell down, undid his board, looked around a bit, went inside to get out of the cold.”

     Luka nodded and examined the area as well. “Detective? You don’t suppose this is...”

     “Yeah, yeah, knowing Loge’s luck it probably is,” Kit sighed as he stomped through the snow towards the cabin’s porch. He took out the Fartalk Orb again and tapped it a couple times to turn it on. “Emilia?”

     “Did you find him?” the Salazzle’s voice immediately demanded.

     “No, but we’ve traced him to a cabin in the backcountry. I’m guessing it’s Patton’s, going from the story last night.”

     “Got it, I’ll tell ski patrol. See you soon?”

     “Hopefully,” Kit stated. He stowed the orb away and approached the front door. “Alright, let’s get him before he desecrates the historical site more than he has already.”

     The Lucario shut his eyes and scanned for auras one final time. He saw Loge’s trail on the ground, along with Kit’s, but then...

     Kit reached for the doorknob. Luka dashed forward, kicking up a snow spray in the blink of an eye, and grabbed Kit’s wrist.

     The Delphox glanced at him. “What’s wrong?”

     “Detective,” Luka stated, breathing slightly more heavily. “This cabin does not have a kind aura.”

     “Well, people allegedly died in and around it. Can’t say I’m shocked.”

     “Not like that,” the Lucario replied. Kit’s ear twitched; this was the first time he had heard Luka sound...unsure of himself. “It’s emanating an aura. Like it’s alive. I don’t know why I’m sensing it like this, but I am. There is something very wrong with this place.”

     Kit fell silent, then slowly nodded and intensified his branch’s flames against the gusting winds. “Alright. We’ll make this fast. Go in on my signal. We find Loge, we get him out, and we either take the cleared trail back or ring Emilia and hunker down until ski patrol arrives. Stay alert.”

     “Detective, I don’t think you...”

     “Luka,” Kit barked, glaring at him. “We take care of our friends.”

     Luka’s eyes went wide. His mouth hung slightly agape as his breathing staggered.

     “Luka!”

     The Lucario snapped back to his senses, calmed himself with a deep breath and grunted back. “Of course. Forgive me.”

     Kit motioned to the other side of the door. “Get ready then.”

     Luka quietly paced over and nodded at the Delphox.

     Kit held up three fingers with his free hand. Then two. One. Then he twisted the knob and charged inside.

     The interior of the cabin was dark in places. Besides the burning tip of Kit’s branch, there were no interior lights. The cloud cover from the incoming storm meant that illumination from sunlight was serviceable but limited. The cabin was silent save for the low whistle of wind coming from a patched-over crack in a window and the occasional pop of wood from inside the stove in the corner of the living room. Luka slowly followed Kit inside, his arms defensively positioned, placing his back against the Delphox’s. Even in the torchlike light there were no signs of Loge anywhere: not in the small sitting area, not in the compact kitchen, nowhere. Kit held up his branch and spotted three closed doors: one on the wall before him, and two to his right.

     “Loge?” Kit called out. “You in here?”

     Luka glanced at the lit stove in the corner of the room. “He lit the stove clearly.”

     Kit nodded. “Cold outside, not sure when you’re getting home, you’ll want to stay warm as much as you can.”

     “Then...why did he leave?” the Lucario wondered.

     Kit gently pushed open the first door to his right.
A tiny but fully accommodated bathroom greeted him. Next to the yellowed ceramic tub was a large mirror hanging above a counter with a few drawers installed. He noticed one of the drawers slightly ajar, and he stepped in to open it fully. A lonesome fire striker slid forward in turn.

     “Alright, his survival instincts are still on point,” Kit muttered to himself. “Barges in, looks around, starts a fire, then what...” He exited and walked around to open the neighboring door, this one leading to a cozy bedroom, complete with a bedstand, cushion, and a small closet. The window against the far wall began to fog over as it was pelted with snow. Kit opened the closet and examined it, raising his branch for extra light. Alongside the antique garments and prospecting equipment, on top of a high shelf, he spotted a pair of pillows, one on either end.

     “Decides that’s not enough and steals the blankets,” the Delphox concluded. “And then I bet, since he’s started exploring...”

     “Detective?”

     Kit walked out of the bedroom and regrouped with Luka.

     The Lucario opened his shimmering gold eyes and pointed at the third door before them on the opposite wall. “His trail vanishes through there.”

     Kit walked up to the door and gingerly grabbed the knob. The door opened with a long sharp squeal of its hinges and revealed a staircase. A dark, descending, narrow staircase.

     “A basement?” Kit stated, an eyebrow raised.

     “Surprising?” Luka asked.

     “Very. Old settlers would have tried making a second story first, especially if they were making everything by themselves. Basements were way more complex to pull off.” Kit took the first step down. The wood creaked under his foot. “I’ll lead, just mind your footing.”

     Luka nodded and followed the detective slowly. The staircase went down for a handful of steps, then turned squarely to the right and went down a few more before stopping at another door. Kit’s gaze narrowed as he studied it.

     “What is it?” Luka asked.

     “Just odd,” the Delphox noted. “The design nearly matches the front door outside.”

     “Coincidence?”

     “Most likely,” Kit shrugged, and he knocked on the door. “Loge! It’s us, come on out.”

     No reply came.

     Kit banged on it again. “Come on, don’t be a fraidy Meowth.”

     Still nothing.

     Kit sighed with exasperation. “Alright, we’ll come to you,” he said with an eye roll. “The things I put up with...”

     He put a hand to the door and pushed it open, and the duo entered the main room.

     The Lucario halted.

     The Delphox stopped in his tracks as well.

     The door slammed shut behind them.

     “...Detective?”

     “Yeah, I know...” Kit turned around and reopened the door they came through. He jogged back up the stairs and turned left.

     Luka saw Kit barge through the door on the far wall of the main area and flinched.

     “We’re trapped,” Kit informed.

“...so he just decides to lift up the back side of the goal and let the puck trickle in!” Heikki laughed. “Obviously didn’t count but he scored in spirit.”

     “Sounds like a riot...” Emilia Reptilia politely responded. She had stopped writing in her notebook a while ago once the Sandslash had stopped talking about himself and the conversation devolved into vague recollections of wacky stories of hockey matches he had attended.

     Anita’s gaze drifted towards the wall clock, and then the conditions outside the window below it. She shuddered again. “It’s getting worse. Any word back from your friends?”

     Emilia glanced down at the Fartalk Orb on the table between herself and Heikki. The topaz glow of the ball’s interior had not changed since they checked in from the slope. She nervously shook her head. “Not yet, but they’re...”

     The orb’s glow suddenly shifted to a bright crimson. “Em...you hear...?”

     The Salazzle immediately snatched the orb. “Kit? You’re breaking up.”

     “...lem, the cab...”

     Emilia threw her notebook onto the table and scrambled outside. Heavy snow pelted her as she stood outside the yurt, scanning every which way for the mountain her friends were on. “Kit, I can’t hear you, what’s going on?”

     “...stuck...hear us...”

     “Stuck?” she repeated. Her tail stuck out straight. “Stuck how? What...”

     “Loge...something’s...”

     “What about Loge?”

     “...don’t...”

     “Kit?!”

     The glow inside the Fartalk Orb vanished, a sign that it did not know where its twin was. Emilia’s blood ran cold. She dashed back inside and practically leapt on her notebook.

     Heikki looked confused but also startled by her sudden movements. “Miss Salazzle? What’s the word?”

     “The cabin in the backcountry, there’s a trail leading to it, right?”

     “U-uh, yes,” the Sandslash stammered. “But there’s three days worth of heavy snowfall on it, and I haven’t had a chance to...”

     “Clear it,” Emilia ordered. She started throwing items back into her pack.

     “Is it your friends?” Anita asked, urgency in her voice. She pawed her personal Fartalk Orb over to her. “I’ll get a search party formed and...”

     “Don’t!” Emilia cut in, then backpedaled again. “Sorry, sorry, I know I’m not your boss or anything, and I’m sorry for yelling, but don’t do that. It’s too dangerous.”

     “Then can you at least explain the situation?” the Absol demanded.

     Emilia panted and weakly pointed towards the backcountry. “The cabin...old prospector lived there...giant massacre after he died...case was never shut...it might be cursed...”

     Heikki blinked. “That sounds a little...”

     Emilia slammed her fist on the counter and shook her notebook, showing the two patrollers. “My friend is a psychic, alright? Like...a really good psychic. He would not send me a message like that if there wasn’t something horribly, terribly wrong with where he is. This blizzard is also nowhere near severe enough to sever an otherwise healthy Fartalk Orb connection. Mine is out, and I got these not even a few days ago. Something is up there, and whatever it is, blindly throwing a rescue team at it isn’t going to help. I know I sound insane right now, but it’s not safe up there. You have to trust me. Please!”

     Anita stared wide-eyed at Emilia, then leaned over her desk. “I understand you’re worried. But we still have a job to do. We need to locate your friends first.”

     “I just told you. Patton’s cabin in the backcountry,” the Salazzle repeated. “There’s a trail leading there, right?”

     “It’ll take a while to clear, but it’ll lead us right to it,” Heikki added. He hopped off of his chair and headed for the door of the yurt. “I’ll keep you updated, yeah?”

     Anita nodded as the Sandslash curled up and tore off into the snow. “I’m going to organize a team as well.”

     Emilia glared at the Absol. “I just said...!”

     “Only to see if we can find a route there from the backcountry,” she finished. “We’ll still need that trail cleared to get your friends down. But the better lay of the land we have, the more we can help once we have a battle plan. I’ll be with them as well, so you have my word we won’t do anything dangerous.”

     “Okay. Okay, thank you,” Emilia said, her head bowed with exhaustion. “What can I do in the meantime?”

     Anita patted her shoulder. “Honestly, not sure there’s much you can do.”

     Emilia’s eyes went wide.

     The Absol did not notice. “We can handle it from here. I’d recommend just heading home for now. We’ll let you know the moment we have something to share.”

     Emilia clenched a fist and looked up at Anita with an unintentional intensity in her amethyst-colored eyes. “Please do,” she tersely but politely replied, before hoisting her pack onto her shoulders and slinking away.

Luka channeled his focus into his right palm as he meditated. A second later his eyes jumped open and he fired off a powerful blow at the sitting room window. The window bizarrely stayed intact, still stoically defying the last five minutes of the master’s efforts. The blizzard had turned any view of the outside into a full whiteout, as wind paradoxically whistled from underneath the front door.

     “Don’t do anything stupid, Emilia! Do you read?” Kit enunciated to the Fartalk Orb right before its green aura faded away. “Great...”

     Luka slammed a fist against the wooden wall in frustration. “The walls are impervious. Windows as well.”

     “Yeah...and no telling if Emilia caught enough of that message,” the Delphox sighed. He looked over at his companion and his hunched-over posture against the wall. “You alright?”

     The Lucario simply marched over to the Delphox and crossed his arms. “Like I said outside, the cabin has an aura of its own. Normally it’s simple to filter out ambient auras like you would get outdoors. But this is different. The ambience is so strong it’s difficult to pick out anything specific at times.”

     “I’m guessing that means you’ve lost Loge’s trail?”

     Luka paused for a minute, then growled, “Regrettably.” He tightly gripped the blue fur on his arm.

     Kit’s good eye fixed itself on Luka for a moment, then he shrugged and stood up. “It’s okay. I have a couple ideas for where he is.”

     “He could be anywhere, right?” Luka asked. “The cabin is infinite. So presumably infinite floors as well.”

     “It might just be the same room looping in on itself, for all we know,” the Delphox replied, pacing over to the metal stove in the corner. “But sure, let’s say infinite floors for now. Even then, it helps to know who we’re looking for. For example, see these scratches in the floor?”

     Luka stooped down and saw two sets of scratch marks near its feet. “Could have been the prospector who lived here. Rhydon, correct?”

     “Nope. Recently made. The coloration gives it away. See how the floor’s been bleached by the sun a little?”

     “I suppose so,” Luka nodded. “So you’re saying Loge came through here?”

     “At full tilt. Ever seen someone with claws run so fast they lose traction and start scuffing up the floor?”

     “Ah. So why was he running?”

     “Probably because he’s in the same situation we’re in,” Kit answered. “He’s also a lot more...volatile than I am, if that makes any sense.”

     “Prone to panicking?”

     A creak of wood came from the kitchenette area.

     Kit turned towards the noise. “Only when he gets tossed into something he doesn’t understand. And if we’re still trying to figure out what’s going on, then he definitely hasn’t solved it yet.”

     A soft grinding noise now. This time from the pantry.

     Kit walked over into the kitchenette with Luka in tow. He started to pull open the sliding pantry door. “And whenever Loge can’t solve a problem, the first thing he does is...”

     A tin can smacked Kit’s forehead with a loud clunk, decentralizing the Delphox immediately. He fell flat onto his back as Loge nabbed a second soup can off the shelf and wound up again. “Back off! I know how to use these!”

     Luka promptly raised his hands, palms forward. “Loge, it’s us. Relax.”

     The Zoroark blinked and eased up a little. “You’re...you’re not ghosts or...”

     The Lucario shot him a confused look. “Why would we be ghosts?”

     Loge’s eyes narrowed. “...how did you introduce yourself to me and Kit when we first met?”

     “I am Master Luka of The Silver Coast School of Ir...”

     “Okay, okay, you win, don’t have to say the whole thing again,” Loge butted in. He set the soup can back down and stepped out of the pantry with a stretch. “But man am I happy to see you...”

     He stepped on something far too fluffy to be wood and looked down at the Delphox. Kit’s expression was either completely neutral or absolutely livid, and Loge did not like how he could not tell. A large, circular red sore had developed on his forehead as he blankly stared up at the ceiling, arms out to his sides like he was going to make a snow angel.

     Loge raised his foot from Kit’s chest and itched the back of his head. “Uh...sorry, foxy.”

     Kit heavily, audibly sighed. “I wonder what vacations are like for normal people. They sound so relaxing.”

     “Are you okay, Detective?” Luka asked, as delicately as he could.

     The Zoroark glanced over at the damaged can rocking back and forth on the floor, then knelt down, put a couple fingers to Kit’s injury, and tasted it. “Mmm, tomato! Centuries old tomato but still.”

     “Are you finished?”

     Loge yelped and hoisted his friend back to his feet.

     Luka grabbed an old cloth rag from next to the sink and handed it to Kit. “What was all this about ghosts?”

     “U-uh, right, so...” Loge started looking around the cabin and marched to the front door. “So I crashed out there, right? Well, actually, I guess out there is still in here so that’s not completely...”

     “Loge!” Kit barked as he wiped his forehead off. “Relevant details only. You walked in here, then what?”

     “Well, the storm was kicking up and there was a stove so I figured I should keep warm. So I found some loose branches from my fall outside, tossed them in, lit them, got some blankets out of the bedroom, hunkered down, got bored, started exploring, found the basement, opened it up, went in, saw the room was the same, heard the door shut, ran in circles for a bit, went to check on the stove, saw two ghosts talking with each other near it, screamed like a girl, ran into the pantry, found some soup, heard you...”

     “Stop. Stop, stop, stop,” Kit interrupted as he tossed the rag into the sink. His forehead looked much better now that it was not doused in soup concentrate. “Go back three steps.”

     “...I screamed like a girl?”

     “One more.”

     “The ghosts, right. They were over here!” the Zoroark stated. He jogged over to the stove and motioned in a small area next to it. “That’s where they were standing. I was kinda going batty from the whole room-looping thing so I checked to see if the burn was still going and then right as I shut the door again...”

     “What did they look like?” Luka asked.

     “It’s...hard to describe,” Loge said, sheepishly itching his head again. “I mean...they were ghosts! Blue, wispy, kinda looked like people but not really? Either way, I kinda don’t do good with wacky stuff so I saw it and bolted.”

     Kit crossed his arms and looked at the area Loge pointed to. “You said they were talking?”

     Loge nodded. “Yeah. They had these weird old timey accents and everything. If you want, I can try recreating it?”

     “If you remember it well enough,” the Delphox shrugged.

     “Course I do!” he exclaimed and leapt into an antique armchair. A few hand gestures later, two shimmering figures appeared before the trio, with the stout bipedal one phased into Luka a little. He shuffled away and politely excused himself, then Loge started the playback properly.

     It started with a gravelly masculine voice from the two-legged image. “So, how’s it look?” it asked, with a countrylike twang in its voice.

     The slightly smaller quadruped giggled back. “It’s very pretty. And you built this all by yourself?” came the sultry reply.

     “Well, the sheriff pointed me to some help but...yeah, I did all the plannin’ and helped with the construction so...oh slag, I should get you somethin’ to drink. Dang it, knew I was forgettin’ somethin’.”

     “Oh come now, Patton. I don’t just walk on up to someone’s house for dinner and not bring nothin’ along.”

     A small rustle of paper echoed in the cabin.

     “Holy...where’d you get this?”

     “I’m well connected. And when you’re well connected, Loveland Distillery’s Fifty-Year Reserve ain’t hard to come by.”

     “Wow...uh, dang, I almost don’t wanna open this.”

     “Did I overdo it? Aw shoot, I overdid it didn’t I.”

     “No, nonono, I didn’t mean it like that! It’s...it’s perfect. Thank ya, Penny. You wouldn’t mind me savin’ this for somethin’ special?”

     “Absolutely not. Maybe you can show me what we’re cookin’ as well?”

     “Heh. C’mon over.”

     The two apparitions vanished before Kit’s eyes. “That was...tame.”

     “Well, you weren’t there at the time!” Loge retorted.

     Luka tapped a finger against his arm. “Detective, you don’t suppose that those were the Rhydon and Sawsbuck from Loge’s tale last night?”

     Kit put his chin in his hand. “Going from the general figures, and assuming Loge didn’t muck with anything out of fear...”

     “Heeeeey...”

     “I think that’s a pretty safe conclusion,” he finished. “Though the question of why this was shown remains.”

     “Who says there’s an answer there,” Loge said as stood up from the chair and moseyed back into the kitchen. “I mean, we’re kinda stuck in a loop when it comes to this place. Things already don’t make sense.”

     “Things always make sense, even if it’s not immediately obvious,” the Delphox responded, following the Zoroark. “Or, if that doesn’t assure you, I like to assume cause and effect works no matter where you are.” He knelt down and started peering through some of the cupboards.

     Luka shut his eyes and tried to focus his aura detection a bit more acutely. Maybe searching one specific spot instead of the cabin in general would help more.

     Loge squatted down next to Kit. “What are we looking for?”

     “The Sawsbuck and Rhydon are together in this room, indicating this was their last night alive if we go by the story,” Kit commentated as he continued his search. “The vision we saw had him receiving what sounded like a bottle of spirits.”

     “Spirits?” Loge repeated. “Jeesh, no wonder this place is haunted so bad. They’re probably mad they got shoved in there to begin with.”

     “Wrong kind...” the Delphox groaned.

     “He means the beverage,” Luka stated as he continued his meditations. “Like the sort Grandmaster Chen uses for his battles.”

     “Never heard of him,” Loge blankly replied. “And what’s the point anyway?”

     “It seems like something that meant a lot to him: a very valuable gift from a trusted and precious friend,” Kit continued. “So I’m curious, if we find it...”

     He opened a cabinet near the corner of the kitchenette.

     Luka’s eyes jumped open. “Detective!”

     “Yep,” Kit nodded. He reached in and took out what remained of a shattered glass bottle. He gently gripped it by the neck and examined the wax seal at the opening. “Loveland Distillery. And let me guess, unknown aura on it?”

     The Lucario nodded.

     Loge raised an eyebrow. “But that’s one of the most treasured things in this cabin. Or was.”

     “Indeed. So what happened to it...” the Delphox pondered, his lone green eye glimmering in the orange light of the cabin.

The door to Skater’s Paradise creaked open and Emilia Reptilia stomped her way out of the howling winds and blinding snowfall and into the relative comfort of the rental home. She threw her bag onto the sofa, watched it bounce to a stop, then flipped open the top and started unpacking. She dug out her almanac first and heaved it onto the floor with a ground shaking thud.

     She had days when frustration mounted to intolerable levels. People she did not want to talk with insisting they talk with her. Bosses with deadlines that also had extra work to hand out. Pointless beats about someone making a giant fudge sundae or something that would get published right next to the comics and daily crossword where maybe six people would read it.

     And between the two of us, I’m more powerful than...

     She had days when she felt completely unlucky. Interviewees getting called away for more important business. A sudden windstorm blowing her notes into a fountain. The sudden chill she always felt whenever she had to stop by Leslie’s for something and remembered her coin purse was back home.

     I’d recommend just heading home for now.

     She had days when she felt sad and lonely. Eating lunch alone as a Salandit back on Bayleef Island. The haranguing and teasing she routinely put up with as well. The midnight thoughts of not knowing where she came from, and only Old Man Pangoro to rely on for support.

     The notion of one day not having any friends or family at all.

     She knew all about negative emotions. But right now something was burning in her harsher than anything else.

     Honestly, not sure there’s much you can do right now.

     For the first time in a very long time, Emilia was mad.

     She marched over to her almanac, sat down on the floor, and opened the back cover. She took out her notebook and tore out page after page, scrawling down every thought that came to her mind.

     First was the Fartalk Orbs. Those were designed to almost never lose their link with one another, provided they were within each other’s service range. The only time they would is if something was interfering with them. She scribbled this down on one of the loose sheets and set it aside.

     Her first thought was psychics. Ghosts were a close second. Possibly fairies for a third option, but she doubted it. No, everything had to be considered. Any oversight and her friends could be in peril. She wrote these down as possibilities.

     They were at or in the prospector’s cabin. She wrote down as many details about the story as she could from Loge’s telling of it. Ghosts in particular liked to manifest in response to horrible events like that.

     She spent the next half hour or so flipping through her almanac, writing down everything that could possibly be useful to untangling what could be up there. She thought about possible abilities, attacks, anything. Weather manipulation was not out of the question either; whatever this was could easily have summoned the storm outside in the event Loge and the others somehow managed an escape.

     The Salazzle walked up to the living room wall, carefully removed the hanging pictures and paintings, and set them aside. She took a ball of red string out of her bag along with a set of thumbtacks and slowly, methodically, started pinning and connecting the papers to one another against the wood.

     The wind whistled under the front door as she worked. After a few minutes, she took a few steps back and sat back down on the floor. Before her was a tangled weblike maze of words and ideas and whatever information she thought could be useful, even a little.

     Emilia rested her elbows on her knees, folded her hands together, and leered intently at the wall, thinking.

Kit led the group down the stairs and around the bend. He opened the front door and looked around briefly before retreating and shutting it again.

     “What are you looking for?” Loge asked from over his shoulder.

     “Just making sure I have all my facts sorted,” the Delphox answered. “It looks like this actually is a perpetual loop. The cabin doesn’t reset, so to speak. Otherwise that soup can you winged at me would be put back.”

     “Aw. Infinite soup sounded fun.” Loge’s ears drooped.

     “The more pressing matter is supplies,” Luka commented, his arms crossed. “If we can’t get out and communication is cut off, then we’ll eventually go through the entire stock of food and water in here, and...”

     Loge gulped. “Uh, great. Lovely. We just need to...get the lead out is all.” He laughed nervously and leaned towards Kit’s ear. “Foxy, please pick up the pace. I don’t wanna see Luka when he gets desperate.”

     “I’d say you’re not worried about the right guy,” Kit flatly asserted. “My medicine is back at the house, remember?”

     Loge’s face went pale. “I should have just kept my trap shut.”

     “We have plenty of time before anything drastic happens,” Kit remarked. “That said, I need to think for a moment.”

     The Zoroark itched his head again. “Hey, uh, this’ll sound batty but...well, you know how Patton’s case here never got closed?”

     Luka cocked his head. “You don’t suppose...”

     “I’m just saying, it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary,” Loge stated. “The two...things I saw were acting pretty close with each other. So Patton and Penny, right? I don’t know if those are them actually or some sort of spirit or whatever that’s stuck here keeping an eye on the place but...well, what if they want us to help them?”

     “They have a very strange way of asking for help then, don’t they?” Kit mumbled to himself.

     “Okay, fine, maybe they want to try showing us what actually happened,” Loge suggested. “Like, the sheriff was the only one who’s been in here since the incident, right? And that was ages back. Maybe this place got possessed before then and made him fib or something?”

     “We’re unfortunately speculating at this point,” the Lucario said with a shake of his head. “Satisfying as those explanations sound, we don’t have much to support them.”

     “Right. Sorry,” Loge quietly agreed as he glanced over to his other friend. “What are you doing, again?”

     “I told you, thinking,” Kit repeated, an air of annoyance in his tone. All the while he had been staring at the basement door, and pondering just how remarkably similar it was to the front door upstairs. On the one hand, it was expected. The owner and builder, Patton in this case, would have procured all the lumber himself and worked them by himself. It was uncanny how well this cabin’s loop made itself out, and something kept nagging at Kit’s mind about it. The doors were almost perfect replicas, even down to the individual doorknobs and keyholes.

     The Delphox’s eyes narrowed. “I wonder...”

     “You gonna tell us what’s on your mind or not?” Loge grumbled, crossing his arms.

     “There would be a key to the front door in here somewhere, surely,” Kit stated. “Especially if you don’t have a bolt lock on your door. You’d want some way to secure your home overnight at least.”

     Luka shrugged, opened the basement door, and started looking around the living room. “It makes sense. This Patton guy sounds like he was making a lot of money after all.”

     Loge ran back up the stairs and looked around. “Let’s see...if I wanted to keep a key somewhere convenient for me, but also wanted to not put it somewhere obvious...”

     Luka walked over to a small table next to the door and checked its drawer.

     The Zoroark raised an eyebrow at the doormat Luka was standing on, then snickered. “Oh, I am so smart.”

     Luka turned over his shoulder. “Did you find something?”

     “Don’t move! I’ve practiced this before.” Loge approached the doormat, gripped it with both hands, and gave it a sharp yank. The Lucario completed one and a quarter front flips and landed on his front, right next to an antiquated black iron key.

     “Ta-da!” Loge cheered, then looked down at Luka. “...oh, um, I was aiming for that one tablecloth trick. Sorry.”

     Luka blankly stared at the key in front of him, like it knew his pain somehow.

     The front door opened up and an annoyed Delphox glared at Loge. “What did you do?”

     “Solved our problem!” the Zoroark toothily smirked as he picked up the key. “Turns out the key-under-the-doormat trick has been around for a while.”

     “Did you have to level Luka in order to do it?” Kit flatly replied.

     “I’ll live,” the Lucario groaned. He got to his feet and took the key from Loge. “You’re still banned.”

     Loge’s ears drooped. “Aw...”

     “Get in here. Let’s see if this works,” Kit ordered. Everyone packed themselves back into the stairwell and Luka shut the door behind him. He turned around, and by the amber torchlike light, inserted the key into the door and turned it.

     The door above them slammed and the flame on Kit’s branch vanished. The trio were overtaken by absolute dark.

     “...so he’s banned too now, right?” Loge nervously laughed after a second.

     “Hmm, an actually somewhat calm response from you this time,” noted Luka. “You’re learning, I’m proud of you.”

     “Yay, Loge,” Kit half-heartedly cheered. “And no, he’s not.”

     “How is that fair?” the Zoroark protested. “I like to think I’ve matured quite a bit since...”

     A loud whoosh blew in near the trio.

     Loge yelped again.

     Luka felt something fall into his arms.

     “Everyone chill!” Kit barked as he tried to regrip his branch. “You act like you’ve never had a light go out before.”

     “Heh...heh, chill,” Loge giggled. Luka felt the mass he was holding shift around. “Get it Luka? Because it’s...”

     “I got it, thanks for explaining,” the Lucario stoically replied.

     Kit swiped his branch against his forearm to reignite it. The flame roared back to life and in the amber glow, Kit noticed that the floor had been replaced with a thin layer of snow on gravel. The basement door had slid back a distance away from the group as well. He tentatively stepped off of the stairstep he was on and shuddered as the cold snow melted against his foot. It was now clear that he was in the wooded area surrounding the cabin, with the structure itself and its illuminated windows still in view. The flame on the branch danced with the slight but chilly crosswind.

     Loge tentatively climbed out of the Lucario’s arms and looked around. He peered up at the starless dark sky above them. “Kit? Are we...”

     Luka shook his head. “It was still daylight out. This is something else.”

     “Whatever ‘something else’ means,” Loge said. He pivoted on one foot and tried to retreat further into the woods. “Welp, we’re out, that’s the important part. Let’s...” The Zoroark never finished that sentence due to his snout colliding head on with an invisible barrier. He staggered backwards, his hands covering his nose.

     “We’re still under the spell it looks like,” Kit sighed.

     “Unfortunately,” the Lucario nodded. Loge leaned on his shoulder as he spoke. “Sorry about your face.”

     “Thabks...”

     The Delphox crunched his way through the snow towards the cabin. “We should get back in the cabin then. Shall we?”

     “Ib we hab too...” Loge reluctantly replied.

     “We can always stay here and either starve or freeze,” Luka straightly offered.

     Loge considered his options for a second and then pointed forwards towards Kit. “Yib-yib.”

     Luka heaved the Zoroark’s arm over his shoulder and strode forward, and stumbled forward as his foot caught an unusually shaped tree root.

Luka fell onto his front and slid across the plateau for a few meters before pushed himself back up to his feet. He shook his head and took resumed a defensive stance as Sanji dashed towards him. She leapt into the air and did a front somersault, her right leg extended, with the aim of catching her rival on the back of his head. The blue Riolu focused his strength into his right fist and drove a chrome-sheened counterpunch into Sanji’s back. She flew backwards, landed with a thud, and barely had time to collect herself before Luka made another thrust with his left hand. The punch itself was far too distant to connect, but the rush of energy that blasted out of it swallowed up Sanji and sent her skidding even further across the plateau.

     Luka chased her for a follow-up but was not expecting her to spring off the ground with her hands and land a clean kick on his jaw. He reeled backward but regained his balance just in time to swat away a short knee aimed at his midsection. He suddenly felt his feet give out from under him as Sanji landed a clean kick to his shins. Instead of hitting the floor again, Sanji launched him backward with a roundhouse heel kick, sending him spiraling through the air.

     He crashed into the rocky surface of the plateau again, and the magenta colored Riolu laughed to herself as she kicked the air in front of her. “When are you going to stop falling for that?”

     Luka grunted and managed to push himself up to a knee. “Urgh...stupid...kick thing.”

     “Hey, if you studied with Master Nessa, you’d learn the Junkyard Kick as well.”

     “Never been great with kicks,” Luka admitted as he shakily got up to his feet. “The School of Flame Dance and I would go together like peas and honey.”

     Sanji grimaced. “Eeeeh, why those two things?”

     Luka grinned as he assumed his stance again. “Besides, Master Yugo says to play to your strengths, and I have some of the best punching strength in our class. So the School of Iron Fist was right up my alley.”

     Sanji went back to her neutral stance as well, hopping around a little to keep the blood flowing through her legs. “They have a side course in getting your tail whooped?”

     “That was only round one. I have to keep the score a little close, right?” Luka taunted back.

     Sanji smirked and prepared to make her friend eat those words, but before she could start her attack, a raindrop pelted her nose. A gentle rumble of thunder vibrated through the Riolus’ arena.

     Luka peered up and noticed the sky had grown a few shades darker than before. “Should we call it a draw?”

     “Of course not!” Sanji snappily replied. “There was a big thunderstorm during the final round of the masters’ tournament. Know what that meant?”

     The blue Riolu rolled his eyes as the rain picked up. “You really think Rayquaza is here, don’t you?”

     “Wanna find out if he is?” Sanji asked, a determined but eager smile on her face.

     Luka blinked back, then shook his head in resignation and prepared himself for the next round.

Emilia Reptilia crunched her way through the snow-packed main street of Monarch Ridge. She paused momentarily and tightly shut her eyes as a wind gust blew clusters of snow into her face. She would have much preferred to stay at the house, especially in weather this adverse. She found herself acting rather sluggish since the storm arrived in addition; cold snaps always took it out of her somewhat. She yawned and swallowed about a cup’s worth of snow for her trouble, which promptly woke her back up. She really did not want to be out here. At all.

     However, she was missing things. Important things that would go on her board. And she knew she would not find them in the house.

     She stepped up to the town’s library, shook the snow out of her scarf and off her feet, and went inside. A Cinccino waddled by carrying a stack of books about three times her height. “W-welcome to the library,” she squeaked with a slight strain in her voice.

     Emilia’s tongue flipped in and out of her mouth. “Do you need a hand?”

     “I’m good. Just...” the Cinccino grunted as she heaved the stack onto a nearby desk. The tower wobbled unstably for a moment, forcing the librarian to quickly jump up and stabilize it with both hands, but it calmed down soon after. “Whew...sorry about that. Can I help you with anything?”

     Emilia joined her at the desk and brushed some more snow off her arms. “This might be out of your wheelhouse a little, but do you guys have, like, old newspaper copies around here?”

     The Cinccino cocked her head for a moment, then nodded enthusiastically shortly after. “Sure do! Are you looking for any publication specifically?”

     Emilia was taken aback slightly. She was half-anticipating a building as small as this would have a limited selection, if any at all. Nevertheless, she tried not to linger on it. “Well, you know the old cabin in the backcountry? Belonged to a prospector or something like that?”

     “You mean the Patton cabin?”

     The Salazzle clicked her tongue and fired a couple embers at her wet scales to dry them. “That’d be it. I’m...doing a project on him.”

     The Cinccino happily nodded again, hopped off the desk and walked past Emilia. “Yep. Let me show you our request room. Follow me.”

     “Request ro...er, I mean, thanks,” Emilia wearily smiled. “Emilia Reptilia, by the way. Silver Coast Gazette.”

     “Nico! You’re a ways from home aren’t you, Miss Reptilia?”

     “Yeah, just here for a trip.”

     “Sorry the weather’s not any better,” Nico lamented. “I’m really not sure what’s been going on lately.”

     “Not your fault,” Emilia shrugged. “We’re pretty high up, and we’re getting kinda close to fall so...”

     “Well yeah, but even for our standards the weather shifts this week have been crazy.”

     “I see.”

     “Either way, nothing like a good bit of reading material on a cold day,” Nico smiled as she slid open a set of double doors near the back of the main lobby.

     A Claydol hovering behind a desk waved as the two entered and in a deep monotone said, “Greetings, Librarian Nico. How might I assist you today?”

     “Nothing for me, but thanks,” Nico replied, turning to Emilia. “We have a guest from Silver Coast. Emilia, this is...”

     “Literature And Research Supporter. LARS for short.” The Claydol bowed respectfully.

     “Pleasure,” the Salazzle greeted. She looked around the room and noticed only a handful of chairs and tables scattered around. Most alarming was the obvious lack of reading material or any shelves or rooms with which to house it. “Um...this is a library, correct?”

     “Absolutely,” LARS intonated.

     “Have you never been to a LARS branch library before?” Nico asked politely.

     “Can’t say I have,” Emilia admitted. “I grew up with...well, normal ones up to now.”

     The Cinccino chuckled a bit. “That’s perfectly reasonable. But things work very similar here. LARS?”

     “My duplicates and I maintain a vast repository of books, newspapers and other media up to five hundred years old deep within a secure location. Upon our guests’ request, I can readily teleport to said location and return with requested materials. Guests may then check out and renew materials like they would any with any other library, and then return them to any LARS branch library when they are done.”

     Emilia blinked. “Wow. So...uh, if I asked if I could get The Aurora by Stephen the Kingdra and a copy of the Silver Coast Gazette from June 17th of this year...”

     “Please wait,” LARS replied before promptly vanishing from sight.

     “He should be back in a few seconds,” Nico cheerily explained. “Make yourself comfy in the meantime. We have a small café outside if you want anything to drink.”

     The Salazzle shivered suddenly. “Actually, a cup of cocoa doesn’t sound bad.”

     “I’ll bring it right over!” Nico beamed before exiting the room.

     Emilia walked over to a chair and was about to sit down in it before LARS blinked back into existence. “Request complete for Miss Emilia?” he announced.

     Emilia dashed back over as the Claydol set a small tray on the desk. On the tray was a paperback novel about as thick as the base of her tail, along with a copy of the Gazette, with her story about the Trevenants of Black Forest on the front page.

     Her jaw hung open in awe. A small drop of violet liquid dripped out and sizzled on the wood floor. “Wow...”

     “This is the power and speed of LARS branch libraries,” LARS stated, with a hint of esteem in his tone. “Also please refrain from dissolving the floor.”

     Emilia immediately noticed what she was doing and slapped her hands over her mouth. Her face went visibly red. “I-I-I am so sorry! This is just one of the neatest things I’ve seen since...well, ever! I bet you have a branch in Silver Coast too! How did I not even try looking at this before now? Could I bother your for...” Her tail suddenly went stiff and she grabbed her head with both hands. “Oh crackers, I left my almanac at the house! This is absolutely something that would go in there too. How late are you guys open?”

     “Twenty-four hours,” LARS replied. “As none of my duplicates need rest or food, this makes request processing a triviality no matter the time of day.”

     The Salazzle’s eyes went wide. Her jaw hung agape again.

     LARS noticed immediately. “Please be mindful.”

     Emilia flinched and wiped the excess poison away with the back of her hand. “Sorry! Bad habit!”

     “You are forgiven,” LARS said. “On the condition you do not do that over anything valuable.”

     “Yes sir!” Emilia nodded. She peered down at the tray and shyly cleared her throat. “Uh...how mad would you be if I said I actually needed something else?”

     “Not even slightly. This is my job. Please make your request.”

     “The local publication, Monarch Mondays? I was curious if they had any stories about something called the Patton cabin.”

     “How far back shall I look?”

     “Early as you can find anything. Probably no more than a century and a half to two centuries ago though.”

     “Understood. This search may take a while to complete. Also, you will be handling antique documents. Please exercise care when they are delivered, and do not remove them from this library.”

     “You have my word,” Emilia nodded. “Thank you, LARS.”

     “You are welcome. Please wait.”

     Emilia strolled back to her chair as the Claydol vanished once again.

Kit slowly pushed the door to the cabin open again. The living room was bathed in an eerie pale blue light, an impenetrable glow that not even the blazing flame on Kit’s branch could dispel.

     Kit peered back outside again at the calm night sky and its vast emptiness. He audibly exhaled and rubbed his head with his free hand.

     Loge took notice almost immediately. “You alright?”

     “Yeah, I’m fine. Just...”

     Luka finished dusting himself off from his stumble and crossed his arms. “You’re thinking about something.”

     “There’s more to this,” the Delphox muttered. “I’m not sure what yet but...this isn’t normal.”

     Loge’s eyebrow raised. “You know how obvious that sounds, right? Between the infinity cabin and the teleporting stairs and the outside not really being outside? And the ghosts just kinda ignoring us and doing their own thing?”

     Kit turned his head towards the Zoroark, a blank look of resignation on his face.

     “Am I wrong?” Loge asked defensively.

     “No, but I think you know what I mean,” Kit said. He sighed again. “Why are we doing this?”

     “...because we’re trying to get out?” Loge hesitantly answered.

     “Okay, yeah, but...” Kit shook his head. “Look at all of this. It feels like we’re walking through a museum. If someone was playing a prank on us or something, why bother?”

     “They certainly know a lot about what happened here,” the Lucario stated. “Or they’re speculating.”

     “The bottle says otherwise,” Kit stated. “You don’t speculate about details that precise and inconsequential. If someone or something’s in charge here, then they definitely know a lot about this place.”

     “Which still begs the question of why they’re showing us any of it at all, right?” Loge added.

     The Delphox slowly nodded. “It’s just too theatrical. Being trapped in a perpetual loop by itself is scary on its own merits. There has to be a reason we’re seeing what we are.”

     Luka turned to the Zoroark. “You mentioned the case here was never closed. Maybe this entity wants to show us what actually happened?”

     “Maybe?” Loge skeptically replied. “But the story’s over a hundred and fifty years old. If you know what happened here, why haven’t you said anything?”

     The Lucario put his fist to his temple. “They may have just found out about it...”

     “Or they physically can’t tell it.”

     Loge’s eyes widened in Kit’s direction. “What does that mean?”

     Kit turned back towards the white-blue interior of the cabin. “It means I have suspicions, and there’s only one way to confirm them right now.” He slowly meandered inside and looked around. Apart from the lighting change and a dented soup can on the kitchen floor, nothing looked out of the ordinary. The large clock against the wall ticked away, though its pendulum stayed motionless.

     Loge was the next to enter, and he immediately sniffed the air. “Someone is cooking...lasagna?” He shut his eyes and sniffed some more. “Bread, garlic butter...ooh, cranberry salad, that’s neat.” The Zoroark started meandering over towards the dining area, his nose in the air guiding him.

     Luka looked over at Loge curiously as he stepped through the front doorway. “Where are you going?”

     Kit shrugged. “To dinner, apparently.”

     Loge kicked a chair near the table, causing him to recoil like he just saw a Spinarak run across the floor. Another set of wispy illusions phased into being, with Patton sitting on nothing now that his seat had been displaced.

     “Uh...excuse me, sir,” he apologized with a sheepish toothy smile.

     The Rhydon did not seem to mind. “How’s things around town then, Penny?”

     “...hmm? Oh, sorry. Dandy. I checked in on Old Blackburn earlier today.”

     “Been meanin’ to show him my haul from the weekend. What’s he workin’ on right now?”

     “More bracelets from what I heard. He’s doin’ silver and garnet this time.”

     “How’s yours holdin’ up, by the way?”

     A hoof clattered the table. “You tell me.”

     “Pretty good then. Heh...”

     “What’s so funny?”

     “Nothin’. I just remember pannin’ up that diamond months ago and thinkin’ how good it’d look with you.”

     “Really now.”

     “I’m serious! And then I sold it to Blackburn, he told me that he had this gold inset he wasn’t doin’ nothin’ with, and...it’s funny how life sorts itself out some days.”

     “...Blackburn told me he just wanted to say thanks for helpin’ promote his store. Gettin’ him in touch with suppliers and whatnot...”

     “Yeah, uh...I...well, I didn’t want to just walk up on you and drop somethin’ like that in your lap so...yeah. Surprise.”

     “You...you really didn’t have to do all of that...”

     “You’re right. Wanted to anyway though. You’re worth it.”

     “Patton...”

     “I love you, Penny. I like seeing you happy and I want to make you happy for...”

     “Patton, you’re going to die tonight!”

     A stunned pause filled the cabin.

     “...where’d that come from?”

     “I...I’m so sorry. I...I don’t know what I was thinkin’...”

     “Hey hey hey, calm down. What’s goin’ on here?”

     “The Whitefangs, they’re...they’re comin’ for you. Probably outside right now.”

     The table creaked, like someone leaned on it. “...how do you know?”

     “They put me up to it...they...” She sniffled. “They wanted me to ask you out. I’m bait. They wanted you here.”

     Silence again.

     “...where are they?”

     “I don’t know, just...in the woods I guess. They told me to leave at eight. I swear that’s everythin’ I know!”

     “...Penny?”

     “I’m sorry. I betrayed you and our relationship and everythin’ you thought you knew about me is a lie. I’ve been takin’ errands from them for years now and...”

     The sound of a chair sliding out echoed in the cabin, followed shortly by someone hugging something.

     “...what are you doing? I...”

     “I said I love you, Penny.”

     “...I...I just said I’m settin’ you up to...”

     “We’ll talk about that later, alright? Right now, you did the right thing. You didn’t betray me. If anythin’, you just showed me I chose the right Sawsbuck to invite for dinner.”

     “...I’m sorry...Patton, I’m so sorry...”

     Something liquid dropped onto the floor.

     “It’ll be alright. I’ll take care of this. When did you say they’d do their thing? Eight o’clock?”

     “...y-yes...”

     “...well, we got about eleven minutes to make ourselves presentable for ‘em then, don’t we?”

     “Right...t-tell me what to do.”

     “You’re holin’ up in the basement until I give you the all clear is what you’re doin’.”

     “No...I can’t. I just can’t. I sucked you into this mess. I have to get you out of it.”

     “Whitefangs are the meanest crooks in town and...”

     “Patton!”

     A hoof clopped onto the floor.

     “I’m not askin’.”

     “...then run downstairs for me. Get some spare planks and nails. We’re gonna barricade this place nice an’ good before...”

     A window shattered.

     The spirits vanished.

     Loge flinched.

     A rush of cold wind whirled into the cabin.

     Luka turned to the noise.

     The window next to the front door, across from the table, had a large circular puncture in it. Cracks in the glass grew in zigzags around the hole.

     Kit’s ear twitched as he looked back at the door to the basement stairs.

     “...Kit?” Loge whispered in fright.

     The Delphox silently motioned to the door, his illuminated branch raised.

     Luka slowly, quietly snuck towards the door and pulled it open.

     The hinges wailed.

     A rattling noise came from the darkness below.

     A voice barked, “Patton? Open up! We need words!”

     A set of angry slams.

     Luka’s breathing destabilized.

     Kit walked past the Lucario, slowly descending the creaking wooden stairs.

     Loge gently patted Luka’s shoulder.

     He started and whirled on the Zoroark.

     Loge put a finger to his mouth as the two carefully followed Kit and the dim light of the flame he carried.

     The Delphox stopped at the base of the stairs at the scratched door before him. A deep red light seeped under it. He waited for the others to catch up. He quietly inhaled and flexed his hand.

     Luka slowly readied his fists.

     Loge’s claws crackled with red-black energy.

     Kit pushed the door open.

     The three rushed inside.

     Luka sharply inhaled.

     Kit nearly dropped his branch.

     “Arceus!” Loge swore as he nearly lost his footing.

     Lying before them in the cabin’s living room was a Sawsbuck, motionless.

     Kit stooped down and looked the Pokémon over. He winced as he saw a large gash on the back of her neck. “Whatever came in from the window...”

     The Lucario tried to steady his breathing long enough to study the room’s auras. He shut his eyes and tried to examine the Sawsbuck. Nothing came up. “D...Detective, she’s...”

     “Yeah, I know,” Kit quietly stated. He started examining the body more closely.

     Luka continued looking around.

     A magenta colored aura showed up.

     It was staring at him.

     He collapsed.

     Loge whirled around. “Luka?”

     Luka sat slumped against the wall. His breathing was shallow and rapid. He wanted to open his eyes, but they refused. All he could see was aura.

     The Zoroark dashed over and got on a knee. “Luka, talk to me. What’s going on?”

     Luka let out a stymied yell. All he could see was the defiant, hazy magenta splotch in a sea of black. No Kit. No Loge. Not the walls or ceiling or floor.

     Kit ran over to them, his branch illuminating the terrorized look on his mentor’s face.

     “Easy, Luka. What’s wrong?” Loge asked, panic permeating his attempt at calm.

     Kit glared determinedly at Loge, his good eye’s emerald hue cutting through the scattered crimson light. “Let’s move him. Bedroom.”

     “R-right!” Loge nodded and gripped Luka’s ankles. Kit released his branch, leaving it hovering above them, and put his arms under Luka’s shoulders.

     Luka hollered in terror. He tried to twist his shoulder and kick a leg. Nothing was moving like wanted.

     The two of them lifted the Lucario off the ground carried him towards the bedroom. Kit waved his hand at the door, nearly sending it off the hinges as it whipped open.

     Luka wanted it to stop. It could not. His senses refused to heed him. This was wrong. This was not supposed to happen. He begged, pleaded silently to go back.

     He slowly wrenched an eye open. The gold iris darted all around, looking in all directions.

     At the ceiling. At Loge. At Kit. At the bedroom window. At the blinding red light outside.

     At the Riolu-shaped silhouette in front of it.

     He might have screamed one last time before he blacked out.

Emilia Reptilia’s tail wrapped around the ceramic cup holding her drink and she turned her head to take a small sip. She took care not to do this over any of the antique news articles splayed out before her on the library table. Even if she trusted LARS’s word that, yes, the magicked ink stamp in the corner would protect the papers from being stained, she did not want to test its efficacy at present.

     The Salazzle took a deep breath and ran through the story in as chronological an order as she could make out. First was the cabin itself. It sat right on the banks of what would eventually be called Patton’s Creek, named after the builder and owner of the cabin. Patton the Rhydon was a prospector and somewhat of a local hero. He made much of his wealth from panning and mining in and around the creek, helped push Monarch Ridge firmly into boomtown territory...she shifted into skimming mode once she realized the article had nothing else to contribute to what she already knew from Loge’s story.

     She did notice the picture, however. Transferring Captura Orb pictures into ink and paper was hardly a new science, but Emilia was slightly impressed it went back as far as Patton’s age. It featured him smiling proudly for the camera, tipping his hat with one hand and resting the other on the shoulder of a sitting Sawsbuck. They posed outside Blackburn’s Jewelry and Trinkets, and whoever this Blackburn was likely paid someone for the indirect ad space, judging from the store’s sign and the expensive looking bracelet around the Sawsbuck’s left front leg. Emilia noticed the article starting to pivot towards speculation about Patton’s relationship with someone named Penny, and she figured that must have been her in the picture.

     The second article that caught her attention was published as a special edition. The headline, in large block capital letters: PATTON KILLED AT HOME IN DEAD OF NIGHT! PENNY MISSING WITHOUT A TRACE!

     Emilia glanced over the article. It must have been printed as soon as the sheriff returned from his welfare check that day. The sheriff found Patton’s body inside the cabin with a large amount of wounds that could have only come from a big fight. The report also detailed a few frostbitten areas on the Rhydon’s body, which struck the Salazzle as slightly odd, until she glanced outside the library’s window and changed her mind.

     Then came the article from the day just afterward. The story: Ten members of a gang called the Whitefangs found dead in the area around the cabin, buried under a snowstorm that had rolled in the night prior. No injuries were noticed on any of the victims. Of course, there were no pictures of them either; Emilia could not imagine the sort of Pokémon whose day would be actively improved by seeing ten cadavers over the breakfast table. Either way, the paper chalked up all of them to death from exposure.

     There were, however, two mug shots released by the sheriff’s office that the Monarch Mondays did print. Apparently these were the two most prolific members of the Whitefangs caught in the incident. The first was a Tyranitar she did not recognize and the second...

     Emilia’s eyes narrowed. She pulled the paper closer to her.

     His name Yaroslav. He was a Beartic.

     Her mind immediately started formulating a theory. An insane theory. One she felt nearly certain was not true.

     Nearly.

     She stood up from her chair and marched back over to LARS, her arms carrying the other two editions of Monarch Mondays and her tail carrying her beverage. “I think I’m done with these,” she said politely, setting the newspapers back on the Claydol’s tray. “Thanks for letting me view them.”

     “I shall return them then,” LARS bowed before picking it up. “May I get you anything else?”

     Emilia paused for a minute to make sure she had her thoughts collected. She could not stop thinking about her theory. It would be incredible to prove, and even more incredible to find evidence supporting it.

     But she had to try.

     “Miss Emilia?”

     “I really don’t expect you to be able to do this,” she shyly stated. “But...but is there some way you could get a town record for people who used to live here?”

     LARS went quiet for a minute, presumably thinking despite not really moving. “I queried my duplicates as to whether we have such records in our repository. We do not. The data you seek would be filed with the sheriff’s office and would require permission to access.”

     Emilia’s eyes sparkled violet. “I’m a journalist. Would a letter of introduction and my credentials work?”

     “That would be up to the sheriff, but it would be a good start.”

     “Paper?”

     The Claydol pointed at a stack off to the side of the room. “Take what you need. Interrogative: may I ask why you require viewing of such records?”

     “This is going to sound mad, but I’m in the middle of trying to save a life right now,” Emilia hastily explained as she dashed for the stack. She grabbed a pen and started writing the header before she realized nothing was being written. She grunted and shook it vigorously in her hands. “Come on, you...”

     “In the event of an emergency, I would recommend contacting...”

     “I already have, thanks, and I need to link back up with them in case they finish doing what they said they would,” she stammered as she scribbled furiously on the paper.

     “...alert. Carbon monoxide detected in the vicinity. Please proceed to the emergency exits.”

     “Oh puffs, that’s me again,” Emilia blushed. She slowed the pace of her writing. “There’s no fire, that just happens...”

     Nico burst into the room. “LARS! Did I hear your smoke alarm go off?”

     “It is under control, Librarian Nico,” LARS replied. “Rather, Miss Emilia says it is under control. Please stand down.”

     “Sorry!” Emilia apologized as she ran back over to LARS. “I have one final request today, and it might be outside your job description.”

     The Cinccino crossed her arms. “Miss Emilia, LARS is not an errand boy just because he can...”

     “Please elaborate,” LARS politely interrupted.

     Emilia passed him her letter. “Please get this to the sheriff and see if he’s willing to release those records I asked about. Also requested the reports from the cabin as well. Copies are hopefully available for public viewing after a hundred something years. I’m going to be at the ski patrol lodge near Lift #1, do you know where that is?”

     “I do,” LARS nodded. “Librarian Nico, I will need permission to leave my post temporarily.”

     Nico tapped her foot and glanced over at Emilia.

     “Please, ma’am. My friends are in danger,” she begged.

     Nico blinked. “Well say that then!”

     “I was just about to.”

     “Thanks! Both of you!” Emilia beamed. She downed the rest of her drink then set the mug down before scampering out of the room. “I need to run! Thanks for the cocoa!”

     “Come back anytime!” Nico called with a confused smile.

     “I shall see you soon, Miss Emilia,” LARS replied. “Please wait.”

“...would I know what happened?”

     “I never said that, I said you would know if something happened to him because I was a little busy looking at...you know, Loge, the body??”

     “Hey, I know you’re stressed and everything, but so is everyone else okay? You can at least pretend you’re not trying to do everything by yourself in here!”

     “I’m not...I’m not trying to come off like that, okay? There’s just too much going on here right now and...”

     “...I kinda screwed up your vacation, didn’t I?”

     “Let’s sort this later, okay? I think he’s coming to.”

     Luka’s eyes slowly opened and he grunted. The pressure mounted in and on his head felt like someone had put it in a vise. He lugubriously pushed himself up to a sitting position and put a hand to his head. Someone had draped a wet washcloth over his forehead.

     The Zoroark ran over to the bedside and knelt down. “You scared the heck out of us. You alright?”

     “I...” The Lucario’s sentence did not go further than that.

     Kit stood near the window, leaning against the wall. His branch hovered above them; Kit had to concentrate a bit more on the flame than normal to overpower the ambient light. It bathed the room in a slightly more comforting shade of orange. “You were running hot while you were out. There was some water in the bathroom, probably from the creek.”

     “What happened...to me?” the Lucario wearily asked. He looked down at his hands.

     Loge and Kit looked at each other. Kit motioned with his hand. “You, uh...” Loge itched the back of his head. “I...don’t really know how to put it honestly. You shut your eyes like you were doing that whole aura detection thing you do and then you just kinda...locked up I guess?”

     Luka hung his head. His hands fell draped over his legs. “I see...”

     “Kit made the call to move you in here and, well, we’ve just been keeping an eye on you since then,” Loge continued. “I got that washcloth for you, Kit’s locked the door up with some telekinesis tricks and...”

     “I’m sorry,” Luka interrupted.

     The Delphox shrugged. “You got scared. It happened to me in Black Forest, and you were there so...”

     “This is different. Detective.”

     Loge raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “What do you mean?”

     The Lucario sighed. “It’s...it wasn’t the Sawsbuck. It was...something else. Something I...I’ve put away and...is insisting it comes back.”

     “Like a memory?” Kit asked.

     Luka nodded.

     Loge blinked and then stood up and pulled a chair over from the corner. “What’s it about? I-If you want to tell us obviously.”

     “I...I saw that Sawsbuck. Penny. And heard what happened before it. Patton, he was trying to protect her. Save her. And he watched her die right in front of him...do you know what that’s like, Detective?”

     “...no. Not like that.”

     Luka stared blankly at the wall across from the bed. “When I joined the monastery, as a Riolu, they had me choose a school and a mentor to study under. During my trials, I scored well on the strength section, and I decided to enroll in the school of Iron Fist, under then Middle Master Yugo.”

     “Oh neat, that’s where you got your dojo’s name from,” the Zoroark stated.

     Luka nodded and continued talking. “For the most part, the students don’t get many opportunities to meet those from other schools. But we did have regular sparring tournaments. And that was where I met Sanji.”

     Kit’s ear twitched. “So that’s who that is.”

     Luka turned to him. “Pardon?”

     “When I came to visit the dojo and asked if you wanted to come along,” the Delphox explained. “You said that right as I came in the doorway.”

     “I...suppose I did,” Luka shrugged. “Regardless, she quickly became my best friend at the monastery, even if we never saw each other much. We sparred, we ate meals together when we could, we would sneak out to the cliffs in the canyon the monastery was in and just...talk with the stars out. She kept talking about how she wanted to be more than a Grand Master. She came from the school of Flame Dance and wanted to leave her discipline better than how she found it. She was...idealistic like that. And I wanted to help her realize her goals.”

     “I...notice you keep saying ‘was,’” Loge pointed out, quietly hoping the story did not end how it sounded like it was going to.

     “She’d keep finding these strange spots for us to hold our fights. She was well read about our monastery’s history, and did everything to emulate our forebears. We fought on rooftops, old temples, anywhere and everywhere the old masters fought, we did too. And one day, during a break day, she decides to take us to The Dragon’s Nest. A tall plateau off in the mountains where the old masters held a tournament that caught the attention of Rayquaza.”

     Kit blinked. “Really?”

     “That Rayquaza?” Loge exclaimed.

     “Yes, that Rayquaza,” the Lucario replied. He heaved a heavy sigh and looked back down at the bed he was sitting in. “We scaled the mountain, took our marks, and prepared for our match. It was one of our best. It went back and forth, we both landed solid blows on each other, and we were having fun.”

     Kit noticed Luka’s hand start to shake.

     “Then...then a thunderstorm blew in. We decided that was the signal for the last round. Winner takes all...”

Thunder rumbled across the sky. The light sprinkle had turned into a torrent, and puddles were forming on the smooth surface of the plateau.

     Luka continued to guard against the onslaught of kicks, occasionally crouching to deflect a sweeping blow to his ankles. Inch by inch he backed away from his opponent, waiting for the inevitable mistake to show up. Between the blinding rain and the speed of the attacks, though, noticing said mistake would be easier said than done.

     Sanji panted exhaustedly and tried to change things up. She spun on her left foot and tried to catch Luka off guard with a roundhouse. Luka glared back and parried it upward. She was tiring out. His patience had been rewarded. He cocked his right hand backward, ready to deliver an iron-fisted strike to Sanji’s head.

     The magenta Riolu smirked as she followed the momentum of her wayward kick. She ducked backward and below her friend’s jab. She flipped over and landed in a handstand position. The two Riolus’ eyes met, with Sanji glaring playfully at Luka. Before Luka could process any of this, he was battered by a deluge of kicks to his shoulders and head, all from the upside-down Sanji. She finished the combo by slipping her feet into Luka’s underarms and doing another half-flip backwards, slamming him into the rocky surface and allowing her to stand back up properly.

     Sanji snickered toothily and walked over to Luka. “Whew! That was a good one! You alright? I didn’t mean to slam you too...”

     Luka kicked off the ground and connected a steel-sheened uppercut squarely on Sanji’s jaw. She reeled backwards towards the edge of the plateau, rolled onto her back and back to her feet.

     She rubbed her jaw to soothe the pain. “...alright, you got me. Celebrated too early.”

     “I’ve still got some fight in me,” Luka grinned back as he rolled his shoulder muscles. “What about you?”

     Sanji crouched down and prepared her stance. “What do you think?”

     Luka started to sprint towards her.

     Sanji coiled up for a counterattack.

     A thunderbolt exploded behind her. The edge of the plateau cracked under its might. Sanji lost her footing as it crumbled from under her.

     “Sanji!” Luka yelled. He dashed forward and leaped, arms outstretched.

     Sanji screamed as she fell with the tumbling rocks. She tried to jump and reached for the undamaged outcropping. Her hand gripped a ledge momentarily, then immediately slipped from the slick rainwater.

     Luka grabbed her hand with both of his, grunting as he tried to pull her back up. He kicked with both of his feet, trying to find any amount of purchase on the wet rock.

     Sanji dangled helplessly as she tried to find some footholds of her own against the deteriorating cliff face.

     “Come on...!” Luka growled, his eyes shut tight from the exertion.

     “Luka...” Sanji weakly called back.

     The blue Riolu managed to open an eye.

     “Nice fight...”

     Her hand slipped out.

     Luka cried her name as she vanished into the fog below.

Loge hung his head and deeply, audibly exhaled. “Shoot...”

     Nobody said anything for a moment or two afterward.

     Kit eventually broke the silence. “What happened after?”

     “I just...sat there,” Luka whispered calmly. His fist shook as he spoke. “My best friend just slipped out of my grasp and...”

     “...that can’t have been your fault,” Loge said quietly. “It was a freak accident; you couldn’t have predicted that...”

     The Lucario pounded the bed. Loge flinched. Luka glared at him. “That’s exactly what Yugo and all of my other mentors told me when I got called to the tribunal the day after. I didn’t believe them then, and I still don’t now, because I was the one who decided to continue our match in those abhorrent conditions. But let’s suppose they’re right. Let’s suppose I am completely absolved of any responsibility. That’s what the judgment was, and there’s no arguing a tribunal decision. What did I do afterward? I had to keep studying and training. And I had to do something about Sanji. I couldn’t handle what happened that day and I had to find something, anything, to make me hope. No matter how far-fetched it was, I wanted Sanji to be alive. I hoped Rayquaza was somewhere in that storm and she was saved and one day she would come back to the monastery and it would be like nothing happened. And I...I hoped for that so hard I tricked myself into thinking she was fine. I made up a memory that never happened. I finished training, I evolved, and then I asked to leave. I said it was because I wanted to continue teaching those that can’t visit the monastery but...but what if Yugo was right? What if the truth bled through when I did that? Like it did just now, and when you asked me to come on this trip? What if...what if I wanted to leave because...I couldn’t stand living near the place I watched my friend die...”

     He punched the bed again and gritted his teeth. “I am not strong. I look like I’m strong and everyone sees this...paragon of stability and strength and balance and...I’ve been reeling ever since that day. And instead of confronting what happened, I decided to run. I ran from my home, from my comrades and worst of all, from the truth. What kind of warrior does that?”

    He gripped his head. “I don’t deserve this. Not my school, not my title, none of this...”

    The bedroom went silent again.

    Kit stared at the floor.

     “You make all of that sound like it just fell in your lap,” the Zoroark growled.

     Luka turned towards Loge. He leered back at him, his teeth bared.

     “All of those things aren’t things you just get. Master doesn’t sound like a title they just give to anyone. Schools aren’t built by people that aren’t interested in teaching people things for a living. Do you know who you sound like right now? You sound like me. My parents gave me everything in the world – money, education, resources – and then I grew up and did absolutely nothing with them. So you’ll have to forgive me if my blood boils when I see someone do way more than I have with way less than I have, only to see them have the nerve to spin right back around and tell me they don’t deserve any of it! Because that is one of the most untrue things I have ever heard!”

     “Loge...”

     “Shut up, Kit! You’re a detective! Don’t act like he’s right about any of this! If he really wanted to run away after all of this, then he should have! He should have just found a shack in the middle of nowhere and lived a quiet, lonely, sad life where he wouldn’t have to do anything else but wallow in his own misery!”

     Luka stared back at Loge, eyes wide.

     Kit looked back at the floor and crossed his arms.

     Loge glowered at both of them, a tear in his eye, and stomped out the door. “I’m making some soup.”

     He slammed the door shut behind him.

     Another silent moment passed before Kit sighed and turned toward the door himself. “I need to examine that Sawsbuck again.” He held out his hand and the branch illuminating the room floated into it.

     “Detective?”

     Kit looked over his shoulder.

     “I’m truly sorry. You’re relying on me to help with your abilities. I can’t imagine seeing your mentor like this does anything positive towards that goal.”

     The lone green eye of the Delphox glinted back at him. “You’re not an emotionless machine, Luka. And I didn’t decide to study under you to become one either.”

     Luka slowly peered back up.

     “I enrolled because I wanted to become a better person. When we were in Black Forest, you helped me take that first step when I was at my lowest point personally.”

     Luka did not say anything.

     The Delphox turned and put his hand on the doorknob. “You told me that it’s fine to be afraid, because everyone experiences it. In this case, I think it’s worth generalizing a bit more. It’s fine to feel like a person.”

     The Lucario was eventually left alone in the room, staring at the door.

Anita set the Fartalk Orb aside and turned to Emilia. “Just got word from Heikki. He’s almost made it to the cabin’s grounds. Should be done and back sometime soon.”

     “Thank you,” the Salazzle nodded as she pored over an old sheriff’s report. The page she was presently scanning through was an overview of the cabin’s interior: things that may have been out of place or involved in the Whitefang attack. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary – a broken bottle in the kitchen area plus the glass shards to go with it, a couple displaced cooking knives, and some pieces of upturned furniture. The autopsy report on the page after detailed Patton’s condition. Well, he was dead, of course, but there were a few interesting details besides that, such as the stab wound being frozen over, or the fact that his horn seemed to be missing, like it was broken off somehow. Likely during the melee inside the cabin, she figured.

     She opened up a folder resting on a small table in the lodge and slipped the report away for now. “What did your search party turn up, by the way?” she asked.

     “We found some of their gear around the cabin but that was it.”

     “...you didn’t go in?”

     The Absol shuddered. “It was a three person team. One of us tried to enter and...my Danger Sense didn’t like it. The storm outside wasn’t helping either. We had to extract and regroup.”

     Emilia looked down. “I...I understand. You need to look out for your crew first.”

     “If anything this gives credence to your theories. Something is actively disturbing the cabin. We’re looking into possibilities now.”

     The Salazzle sat motionless.

     “...Emilia, I know this isn’t easy for you. I know you’re worried, and trust me, we’re doing everything we can to make sure your friends come home. But we need to know what we’re going into. For everyone’s sakes.”

     “I know,” Emilia sighed. “I’ve been doing some work of my own while I was out. I still don’t know what’s wrong precisely with the cabin but...” Her eyes narrowed at the report.

     The lodge door swung open and a Beartic marched in carrying a toolbox. “Arkeus y Kurem, what a mess,” Medvedev exclaimed as he shook the snow off of himself.

     Anita blinked back at him confusedly. “Can I...help you, sir?”

     “Medvedev, privet,” Emilia greeted.

     “Y privet tebe tozhe, you’re improving,” Medvedev smiled as he sat down across from her. He set his toolbox down on the table and crossed his arms. “So. Told me to come here. And bring toolbox. Where’s problem? Also something about interview?”

     “Yeah, eventually maybe,” the Salazzle nodded as she picked the folder back up and opened it. “But there’s other things I need to ask you about first.”

     “Like what?”

     “You said you’re a local, right?” she asked, tucking away the sheriff’s report in its rightful place.

     “Da, so was my father, and my grandfather, and my great-grandmother.”

     “And her father?”

     Medvedev went quiet again. “...da, probably. What about it?”

     Emilia flipped through a couple papers in the folder and laid one of them out, flicking it around to face Medvedev. “It took a little work to find this. You have a long lineage in Monarch Ridge. I didn’t pry into any personal details or anything, and I’m sorry for intruding, but I had to check something.”

     The Beartic grumbled a little but did not seem overly offended. “What you find?”

     “Does the name Yaroslav mean anything to you?” Emilia asked politely.

     Medvedev opened his mouth, but his eyes met the shining amethyst pair of the Salazzle before he said anything. He reclined in his chair and sighed. “Da. Great-great-grandfather.”

     “Did something happen to him?” Emilia noted.

     “Everyone has somebody they don’t talk about, and in my family it’s him.” Medvedev replied with a scowl. “He was criminal. Insurance money, black markets, murders. See why I don’t like talking about him?”

     Emilia held her tongue.

     “My heritage is black. Tainted. And it’s his fault. When I was young and parents taught me family history, they told me about him. Would you like him as relative? Someone who led group suspected of killing the town’s local hero?” He stared at his toolbox. “I thought leaving town, seeing world would take mind off it. Did well for myself in skiing. Could have gone longer but didn’t. You can go anywhere you want. Family still comes with you. Even those you hate. I come back home for offseason and decided best thing I can do is start undoing his damage. Give back to a town he did nothing but take from. Became handyman, groundskeeper, any job that makes a life easier is good. Makes me feel better about myself as well.”

     There was a pause. “I’m...sorry to hear about that,” Emilia said, lacking anything more meaningful to add.

     “So. There you are. My family killed a legend here. That all you wanted me for?” Medvedev growled with displeasure.

     “No, no, I’m trying to...” Emilia took a deep breath and tried to slow down. “My friends are in trouble near the cabin where Patton was killed. I think you can help me out.”

     “Heh, if anything my family caused it,” the Beartic grimly chuckled. “No Yaroslav, no murder, no cabin, no missing friends.”

     Emilia took out a picture from the folder, a copy of the picture taken of Patton and Penny outside Blackburn’s. “Family is important to you. When you came back from fixing our boiler yesterday, you took something out of your toolbox first.”

     “Great-grandmother’s bracelet. Family heirloom. Take it wherever my toolbox goes. Good luck.”

     “Mind if I see it?”

     Medvedev hesitated, then slowly opened his toolbox up and removed the timeworn tarnished bracelet from it. The white gemstones reflected the clouded sunlight from outside.

     Emilia picked the bracelet up gently in one hand and the picture up in the other. The gemstone pattern, the color of the setting, the size...

     “What you looking for?” the Beartic asked.

     “This is hers,” the Salazzle gasped under her breath.

     “What is? Who’s hers?” Medvedev repeated.

     Emilia jumped out of her chair and ran over to Anita. “I need to get up to the cabin once Heikki gets back.”

     “I can’t do that, Ms. Emilia, and I told you why,” she sternly replied.

     “Please, listen to me,” the Salazzle begged. “I can’t prove anything, but I have an idea. Some Ghost or Psychic or maybe even a Fairy Pokémon is fixated on that cabin. It owns it, and it’s doing something that stops whoever’s in it from interacting with the outside. I’ve read the sheriff’s reports and I’ve read through the news articles related to it. There’s too many loose ends in all of those, and this is one of them.” She raised the bracelet in her hand and shook it.

     Medvedev walked over to the bracelet, then looked down at the photo in Emilia’s other hand. “...it’s the same one.”

     Emilia nodded. “Do you remember when your great-grandma got this?”

     The Beartic shut his eyes and thought. They sprung open after a second. “My granddad said she got it the day of Patton’s murder. And the day Penny vanished...it was stolen, wasn’t it.”

     Emilia turned back to the Absol. “Anita, I know I seem incapable of having a normal conversation with you, but this might be critical to figuring out what’s up there. You can come with me if you want to, but I have to know if I’m right.”

     Anita stared back at her.

     “...please.”

     The door opened again and Heikki brushed himself off. “Path is clear. Was slow going from the blizzard but we have access now.”

     Anita sighed. “Stay behind us at all times, and don’t do anything stupid. If my Danger Sense goes off again, you leave immediately. We might not be law enforcement but we’re not going to let you become another person to save. Clear?”

     “Thank you,” Emilia smiled with relief. “Let’s get moving.”

     The two of them walked past the stunned Beartic towards the door. The Salazzle pulled it shut behind her, leaving Medvedev silently staring at the picture she left on the desk.

Kit reentered the main area, quietly shutting the door behind him. He spotted Loge in the kitchenette wiping down a saucepan with an old towel, an open can of soup on the countertop. “Dust?”

     “Among other things,” Loge replied. He closed an eye and tried to pick out any other blemishes. “Just want something to warm dinner up in and...”

     Kit pointed two fingers at the can. A stream of fire flowed out of his branch and coiled itself around the can. Its contents started to simmer after a few seconds and the coil vanished into a smoke cloud.

     “...or you can do that,” the Zoroark blinked. “Thanks.”

     “You really let him have it back there,” Kit blankly noted.

     Loge sighed. “I know. I was probably out of line too but...”

     Kit crouched down to examine Penny again. Loge picked up the soup can and sipped it.

     “...I’m just tired of seeing people beat themselves up, you know? I bottomed out pretty bad when we were at the police station and I doubted I’d make a good actual partner for you. I...I don’t want to go back there. And I don’t want to see anyone else go there either. And I guess I took that whole ‘I don’t deserve this’ thing personally because of that.”

     “I see...”

     Loge sipped his soup again. “I’ll apologize to him later. He’s probably still processing stuff...what are you up to?”

     “Haven’t had a chance to look at Penny properly before...well...”

     “Guess not,” Loge shrugged. He grabbed a second can out of the pantry and walked over to Kit, bumping it against his shoulder. “What got her, do you think?”

     Kit took the can, opened it, and heated it up as he spoke. “Her torso’s frostbitten, and the wound looks iced over almost...”

     “Ice attack of some sort,” Loge stated, then glanced at the window, the wind whistling through the clean hole in the glass pane. “Came from outside, judging from the hole?”

     Kit looked at the hole and then back at Penny. “Heights are about the same. Position makes sense...”

     “...wait, this is wrong.”

     Kit glanced at Loge and sipped his dinner. “What’s wrong?”

     “She’s...she’s not supposed to be dead.”

     “What do you mean?”

     “That’s not how the story goes. She just went missing. But if she’s here...”

     “Then her body was hidden somewhere. And the sheriff never found it.”

     “So...where is she then?”

     Kit’s gaze went back to Penny, and he put his hand to his chin. “There’s something else I’ve been thinking about as well. Come over here.”

     The Zoroark squatted down to Kit’s level and looked the body over. “What are we looking for?”

     Kit pointed at her front right leg. “That.”

     “...it’s a leg.”

     “And what’s wrong with it?”

     “Nothing obvious.”

     “You’re sure?”

     Loge glanced at Kit, stifling a smirk. This was his favorite part of watching his friend work. He was pretty sure Kit enjoyed it as well.

     “Think about what’s going on here,” Kit stated. “We have all of these strange wisps sitting around and outside the cabin, pretty much acting like they were in that story, right? And they mostly agree with each other, putting aside Penny’s death.”

     “Yeah, right. Luka suggested something like that when we were outside. Whoever’s doing this knows a lot about what went on in here.”

     “Down to the littlest details. Penny gifted Patton a bottle of something, he put it in the cupboard, and that’s where we found it earlier. Over dinner, Patton and Penny are making small talk, they bring up that goldsmith guy...”

     “...she showed him her bracelet.”

     Kit pointed at her leg again.

     Loge followed his finger. His eyes widened. “Wait, where is it?”

     The Delphox’s eye flashed against the red ambient light. “We know she had it on during dinner. And she didn’t have time to take it off before she was attacked.”

     “...somebody took it.”

     “Bandits outside seem most likely,” Kit asserted. “Let’s say you’re one of them. You’re here to kill Patton, and Penny is the bait. You’ve told her your plan, including when you’re going to attack.”

     “I show up ahead of time, because I want to be ready,” Loge continued.

     Kit made a rolling motion with his hand.

     “...but also Penny’s kinda sweet with Patton and I want to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.”

     “So you bring a partner with you as insurance,” a voice came from the bedroom door behind them. Kit turned over his shoulder and smiled thinly as Luka walked towards the duo. “I heard the detective deducing from the other side. It wouldn’t do for me to miss the big reveal after all of this.”

     Kit nodded. “Welcome back. Master.”

     Loge stood up and itched his mane. “Hey, uh...if I came off as harsh or anything back there then...”

     “I’m not offended,” Luka interrupted, then sighed. “That was what I needed to hear. It wasn’t a fair thing for me to say about myself. If anything, I should be sorry for needing that rebuttal in the first place.”

     Loge blinked. “Uh...don’t worry about it.”

     “How are you feeling?” Kit asked.

     “...still not completely clear minded, if I’m being honest,” the Lucario admitted. “I still have some things to think about and come to terms with. But that’s not the time for that. Sanji wouldn’t let me just lie down useless while I still have fight left in me.”

     He glared up at Kit, forcefully but calmly. “So tell me what I can do. Detective.”

     Kit motioned next to Loge. “Loge, you’re his boss. What are you two doing?”

     The Zoroark squatted back down with a muted grin. “We’re watching Penny and waiting for the signal to hit Patton.”

     Luka made himself comfortable as well. “So we watch them have dinner then?”

     “And then Penny starts behaving weird,” Kit continued. “She’s getting a little emotional and eventually hugs Patton, clearly crying.”

     “She defected,” Loge stated.

     “But she hasn’t done anything yet,” Luka pointed out. “For all we know she’s doing some really good acting.”

     “Until Patton starts walking around the cabin,” Kit added. “He looks like he’s giving orders, and Penny’s listening to him.”

     “And now that we know she’ll talk if we continue the hit as planned...” Luka commented.

     “...we have to hit her now too,” Loge concluded with a shiver.

     Kit nodded. “Never mind the stroke of eight, it’s go time now.”

     “So after we catch Penny through the window, we probably then start going inside,” Luka said. “We start with the front door...”

     The front door rattled and pounded. “Patton? Open up!”

     Loge turned to the door and almost leaped for cover somewhere, but instead he took a deep breath and pressed on. “But it’s locked. So next best thing to get inside would be to...force it open?”

     “No, the lock wasn’t damaged when we came in,” Kit pointed out. “It was opened normally. Which means...”

     “Patton took the offensive,” Luka concluded.

     The sound of the front door unlocking then swinging open joined a furious yell. Seconds later the floor thumped a few inches behind where Loge was squatting.

     He moved around and parked himself next to Kit where he could see the door. “Someone else can sit there.”

     Kit sighed to himself and continued. “Then there’s a struggle, and being a Rhydon, and someone who works a manual labor job, I bet Patton held out for a bit.”

     Sounds of a fight echoed near the kitchenette with more thumping and grunts of exertion. A few choking sounds came as well, followed by more thrashing and a shatter of glass.

     “I’m going to kill you!!” someone yelled.

     Loge blinked. “Was that...”

     Kit nodded. “He just saw the love of his life die right in front of him, and the two people he’s fighting are the most likely culprits.”

     “He sounded...different, though,” Luka commented. He tried to shut his eyes, but they refused to shut. He took a deep breath and tried again.

     “...what are you doing?” Loge asked curiously.

     “I...I’m trying to see if there’s any auras worth making out during this fight but...”

     The noises continued, alongside a few grunts and commands. A cry of pain. Something scuttered under a nearby bookshelf.

     He took one more deep, calming breath. “Sanji...please help me...”

     His eyes slowly shut. His vision illuminated with the outlines of three figures against the cabin’s background aura: one gold one in the shape of a Rhydon trying to hold out against a red Beartic and deep purple Tyranitar.

     “Detective, I see them,” Luka stated. “Patton is losing though.”

     Kit solemnly nodded. “It’s two against one. I’m not surprised. We knew this was going to happen anyways.”

     A loud thump landed right behind the Delphox. He did not seem perturbed.

     “Get off of me! Murderers!” Patton roared. “I will kill you! Do you hear me? I will chase you to-!”

     He yelled in pain and hollered in rage. Then again. Then again, but weaker.

     “There...” one of the bandits muttered to himself. “The icicle will keep floor from staining. Can’t have you ruining new money outlet.”

     Loge’s ears perked. “Kit, that sounds like...”

     “Yeah, I know,” Kit quietly replied.

     A grunt came back.

     “You picked good place to make home. Really wished we could be friends, make lots of money together. But nyet, you valued heroism and fame and all that other nonsense first. Real big name in town, Mr. Patton, eh? ...we’ll do much more with this creek than you ever would have, moy drug. That will be your legacy. No family, no business, just your name on a sign. It worth your life? Hmm?”

     “Boss?” called the other one. “What about Penny?”

     “Basement is dirt. We bury her. Sheriff finds her body and it comes back to us.”

     “Got it.”

     Two more grunts of exertion, followed by myriad footsteps towards the basement door. Something heavy slowly but regularly slid across the floor. A rattling bottle noise skidded away.

     “Same for him?”

     “No. He stays. Message for Sheriff. Nikto ne zastrakhovan ot Belyyklyk.”

     “Understood. Kind of.”

     “Faster.”

     Something rang as it bounced off the floor.

     “...pick that up.”

     “Selling it? Looks valuable.”

     “Gifting it. Daughter loves things like that.”

     “Family first, right, boss?”

     “Da. But business first. Poydem.”

     “Pen...ny...”

     Luka’s aura vision flared up. He winced. “Detective, there’s...”

     A long, ominous creak slowly came up from the basement stairs. Strained, hoarse breathing came from behind the door.

     Loge dashed behind one of the living room chairs, gulped, and made a claw with his hand. “Kit? Uh...you know what that is?”

     “Probably our host,” the Delphox stated, raising his branch, ready to cast. “And considering what his last houseguests did...”

     Luka’s eyes shot open. “This can’t be...how...”

     The breathing turned into a predatory growl. An inky black miasma leaked from under the door. The creaks became stomps as the noise drew closer and closer.

     “Luka, get cover!” Kit ordered.

     The creature bellowed and the door flew off the hinges towards Luka. Kit swung his branch upwards and bisected the door with a flaming slash, sending the halves scattering behind the two of them. Kit glared at the monster in the shadows of the basement as it slowly emerged into the crimson lights of the main floor. Its pitch black gaseous form took the rough shape of a Rhydon. Its glowing violet eyes glowered at the Delphox’s sole good one. Wispy black tendrils clung to its back and twitched in every direction as its tail dragged along the ground.

     It opened a fang-filled maw larger than what should have been possible and bellowed in rage before charging Luka.

     The Lucario braced for impact as the spectral figure slammed into him and slammed him against the front door. Luka gasped as the wind was knocked out of him.

     Loge darted towards the shadow, a clawed hand raised, four black-red streams of dark energy trailing behind it. This thing, whatever it was, had to be some sort of ghost. The Zoroark fought against plenty Ghost-type Pokémon before now, and he swiftly learned he had a relatively easy time dispatching them with his abilities. An ambush with Shadow Claw was the perfect decision, and he slashed down at the ghostly Rhydon’s shoulder.

     His attack harmlessly phased through the creature.

     Loge’s eyes went wide in shock. He had just enough time to let out a “What the...?” before a weighty tail whip nailed his midsection and launched him back the way he came. He crashed into the cushioned chair, sitting in a comfortable but heavy daze.

     The ghost continued to pin Luka to the door. It loosed a deep, terrifying roar as its maw sparked with an intense glowing red. It sunk its fangs into Luka’s left arm and the Lucario howled in pain.

     Kit finished an incantation and pointed two fingers to the cabin’s ceiling. The fiery rune he inscribed on the floor erupted, engulfing the ghost in an inferno. He put his free hand to his head and channeled his telekinesis through his branch and towards him, in an attempt to pull the Rhydon’s grasp off of Luka.

     The ghost snarled and turned on the Delphox. A pair of shadowy tendrils impaled Luka and held him against the door as their owner stomped towards Kit. Kit launched a chair at the fiend. Then a lamp. His eye went wide. Nothing was harming the entity even slightly. Not fire, not psychic abilities, not Loge’s attack, not even mundane objects. Before he could start pondering why, the ghost reared and stomped a foot into the ground. The floor shuddered under Kit’s feet and an earthen column shot out of the wood, catching the Delphox square in the stomach. He slammed into the wall and then fell back to the ground, stunned.

     “Detec...!” was all Luka could yell before the ghost charged him again and fired off a set of blows to his abdomen. It was hopeless. His two friends loosed mighty attacks against this monster and nothing happened. He coughed and gasped for air as each blow hammered him. He kicked feebly against the creature, watching his feet pointlessly fade into the shadowy form each time. He saw Loge stagger to his feet and try to power up something in his hand, but the ghost simply roared and shot a spectral rock at him, catching him squarely in the jaw and sending him spiraling to the ground. Luka shut his eyes and tried to focus. Merely on enduring the onslaught before him. He had to shut out the pain, the fatigue, everything negative around him.

     He gasped as his aura vision faded into view. Within the sickly green of the ghost’s form, the same hue emanating from the cabin’s walls, he caught sight of a faint yellow spark hiding within.

     The Lucario coughed and channeled a blue flame of pure aura into his right hand. “Auras...always show things as they really are...” he weakly grunted.

     The ghost wound up another hammer punch.

     Luka put his palm to the ghost’s face. The blue flame intensified and the ghostly Rhydon froze immediately. The violet eyes stared back forcefully at Luka.

     The Lucario opened his eyes, meeting the ghost with a golden stare of his own. “This...isn’t you,” he stated with a cough. “You’ve...been here all this time...living out this same day over and over again with no escape...”

     The ghost bellowed again and swung its arm. Luka winced as he channeled aura into his right hand and countered with a blow to the ghost’s midsection.

     It felt solid.

     The ghost rasped as the blow connected, and it raged again.

     Luka channeled more power into his left hand, quelling the spirit once more. “I know how you feel...alone lingering on your own pain and failures...like nobody can save you...”

     The Rhydon growled furiously and shook its head away from Luka’s palm. It reared back and tried to headbutt the Lucario. Luka grunted and diverted his aura energy to his feet. He thrust them both forward and kicked the Rhydon away. He fell to the floor, gasping for air as the ghost slid across the wooden boards, kicking up splinters as it did. Luka quickly glanced where the tendrils were holding him up, expecting a pair of nasty cuts. They looked and felt more like burns instead.

     Kit tried to push himself up to a knee, weakly gripping his branch and squinting at the scene before him. His body was still recovering from the massive blow. The ghost raised its foot. Kit tried to call out to Luka.

     But the Lucario darted forward and put both of his hands on the ghost’s head. “You were wronged...and you watched someone’s life get taken before your eyes...and I feel sorry for you.”

     Loge groggily opened his eyes. The light outside the window was starting to shift to a soft white. Snow started to spatter against the glass.

     “I want to help you...but you can’t keep going like this...at some point...we all need to accept reality.”

     The blue flames of aura repelled the ghost backwards. Kit scarcely had time to dodge out of its way. The ghost bellowed at the psychic and rose up onto its foot, threatening to stomp him.

     A forceful yell came from the other side of the cabin. Luka wound up his right fist, silver-sheened, covered in the blue flames of pure aura.

     He swung.

     It hit the center of the ghost’s torso.

     A beam of azure flame shot out of the ghost’s back.

     A large hole blew through the cabin’s ceiling.

     Outside, the cloudy white skies blew powdery snow into the cabin.

An eruption of blue flame shot out to the sky, immediately causing Emilia and the two ski patrol members to halt.

     “What in...!” Heikki exclaimed. “What was that?!”

     Emilia recognized the color immediately. “Master Luka.”

     “That’s about where the cabin is too,” Anita noted. She doubled her pace. “Let’s go!”

     Emilia sprinted after her. “Wait for me!”

     The Sandslash balled up and rolled off as well. “No Danger Sense?”

     “No,” the Absol stated. “Not this time.”

     The run up the hill was tiring, and by the time the cabin came into view between the trees and the whiteout, everyone besides Heikki was panting heavily. Emilia forced her way through the snowbanks, lifting her feet up higher than usual with each stride, and then practically barreled through the front door before Anita could raise any objections. “Loge, we’re here! We...”

     She looked around the cabin. Loge staggered to his feet from the living room, his right hand clutching his head. He shook it a little, then collapsed back into the cushioned chair. The ceiling had been blasted through, with Luka standing underneath the cabin’s new skylight, panting deeply and slowly, checking himself for major injuries. Kit grasped the kitchenette’s counter trying to right his own breathing.

     Anita and Heikki followed the Salazzle in, their jaws agape. “What happened here?” the Absol incredulously demanded.

     “Don’t...ask...” the Zoroark wheezed. “It was some giant...shadow...ghost thing that was terrorizing the place. But...”

     Kit glanced at Emilia, still with his usual deductive intensity despite his condition. “What are you doing here?” he grunted.

     “I figured out a few things while you were here,” Emilia stated. She reached into the satchel slung over her shoulder and took out a gold and diamond bracelet.

     Kit’s eye widened.

     Luka blinked as well. “That’s...”

     “Look familiar?” the Salazzle asked, a sly grin on her face. It quickly made way for a confused look. “Wait, why did I ask that? You know what this is? How?”

     Loge scratched his mane. “We, uh...might have solved the whole murder case while we were here.”

     “How?” Heikki shouted. “The sheriff’s going to want statements from everyone!”

     “He’ll have them,” Luka replied, pointing at the bracelet. “But we have something we need to do first. That needs to be returned.”

     Emilia looked at the bracelet. “To Penny? Does that mean you...”

     The Delphox nodded, then stood up and turned for the basement door. “Yeah. This way.”

     Loge lugubriously got out of his seat and dizzily followed everyone else down the basement stairs. He held onto the siderail for dear life, lest he turn the narrow corridor into an impromptu bowling alley. “Hey, Kit? This isn’t gonna just loop us back again, is it?”

     Anita turned over her shoulder, skeptically staring at the Zoroark. “No? Why would it do that?”

     “Lady, do not ask questions you aren’t ready to hear the answers to,” Loge replied, eyes narrowed.

     “Loge!” Kit barked.

     “Forgive him, it’s been a long day,” Luka politely interjected.

     Anita nodded. “You must have done something, between my Danger Sense staying quiet compared to when I tried entering earlier and the giant hole in the roof.”

     “Like I said, we’ll explain once this is finished,” Kit stated. He put his hand on the door at the end of the basement stairs and took a deep breath.

     He pushed it open.

     The basement was a small, stone-walled room with a dirt floor. The flame on Kit’s branch served as the only immediate light source in the musty, dank basement. Along the wall was a small workbench with outdated tools and supplies, and the other housed a wheelbarrow, a few shovels and some empty burlap sacks. Kit lowered his branch towards the ground and examined the dirt as closely as he could.

     “What are you looking for?” Heikki inquired.

     “Penny was murdered alongside Patton,” Kit replied.

     The two ski patrol members recoiled in surprise. “She was?” Anita exclaimed.

     “I thought she just ran off after, well...” Heikki’s voice trailed off.

     “She got set up by the Whitefangs to help them kill Patton for the land,” the Delphox explained. “Then when she gave up and defected in front of them the night of the attack...”

     “...I see,” Anita quietly replied. “How do you know this?”

     “Like Loge said, it’s a long story,” Kit sighed, then pointed near the center of the basement. “Furthermore, after she died, her body was hidden. Right around there actually.”

     “Is this legal?” Luka gently asked.

     “I mean, if Kit’s wrong, then we just moved a bunch of dirt nobody cares about, right?” Loge suggested.

     Heikki cracked his knuckles and walked over to the center of the basement. “He’s got a point, I guess. Since we’re here and all...”

     Anita waited for a minute, then nodded to Heikki. “It’s okay.”

     The Sandslash dug his claws into the dirt and heaved scoop after scoop into a pile behind him. After a few seconds, he stopped. He stared blankly at the hole.

     “Heikki?” the Absol asked.

     “I...I found bone,” he reported.

     Kit crossed his arms.

     Emilia staggered a little.

     “Well, don’t stop there then!” Anita commanded as she dashed over to Heikki and started to dig as well. “Let’s see if there’s others!”

     A few tense minutes passed, and the ski patrol members finished excavating what remained of Penny the Sawsbuck.

     Loge walked over to the skeleton and knelt down. “Wow...even in death, Patton still protected her.”

     “He was driven to rage by his loss,” Luka nodded. “And that rage persisted. Even after his own death.”

     “He avenged Penny when the two Whitefangs came back, and then didn’t have anywhere else to go afterward,” Kit added. His ears twitched and he turned to Emilia. “Reminds me, we heard...echoes, I guess, of the incident as it played out.”

     “One of them sounded like Medvedev?” the Salazzle asked rhetorically.

     “How’d you guess?” Loge replied.

     “Did my homework. That was his great-great-granddad, Yaroslav. Leader of the Whitefangs.”

     Luka pointed at the bracelet in Emilia’s hand. “Which would mean, that would be his great-grandma’s.”

     “Or, more accurately, Penny’s,” the Delphox corrected. He turned towards Emilia and motioned towards the skeleton.

     Emilia slowly paced over and knelt down. She picked up its front right foreleg, looped the bracelet over it, and set it back down gently. She backed away as soon as she did.

     Luka shut his eyes and scanned the basement one more time. “It’s calmer,” he stated. “But not completely. The ghost’s aura still lingers.”

     “Meaning it might flare up again?” Anita asked.

     “Maybe not for a while, but that’s what it sounds like,” Kit said. “Something’s missing.”

     “...Patton doesn’t know we returned the bracelet, maybe?” Loge guessed.

     “How would we fix that?” Heikki asked. “We could move the remains to his memorial in town square maybe but...”

     Emilia’s eyes flashed. “Kit?”

     The Delphox turned to her. “What’s up?”

     “The police report said Patton’s horn was missing.”

     Kit’s eye nearly glowed. “When we heard the brawl replaying, I heard something scatter under the bookshelf upstairs.”

     The Salazzle dashed upstairs past everyone. The sound of something scraping against the hardwood caused Kit to wince, but a few moments later she thumped back down carrying a small horn in her hands.

     She held it out for Luka to examine. “Master Luka? I don’t know much about stuff like this having aura or anything but...”

     Luka took the horn, shut his eyes, and set it alight in azure flames.

     Heikki jumped. “Don’t burn it now!”

     Anita shuddered.

     Luka rolled his eyes, not that anyone could tell. The flames dispersed shortly after, and he opened his gold-glowing eyes. “It’s faint. Almost insignificant, but...”

     Emilia grabbed the horn and gently set it down next to Penny’s remains. A soft glow emanated from the horn and the Sawsbuck’s bracelet. Loge scampered away from the skeleton just in case.

     Small golden wisps of light floated into the air, culminating in two orbs hovering a few feet above everyone.

     Everyone stared back up at them in turn.

     Luka put his fist in his palm and slowly bowed.

     The two orbs rose higher and vanished through the ceiling.

     The glow dissipated from the bracelet and horn.

     Kit softly sighed and flipped his branch onto his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

The rental house’s door squeaked open and Loge wearily dragged himself inside and flopped onto the couch face first. Luka tried to help himself to a seat as well, but the soreness from his battered and bandaged body spiked as he tried it. He opted to stay standing instead. Kit collapsed into a chair with a heavy exhale, and put a hand to his head.

     Emilia shut the door behind everyone and shook off her scarf. The trek back to Skater’s Paradise was silent up to now. She was not completely sure what to say, but she eventually decided on, “So...uh, you guys alright?”

     “Ski patrol wouldn’t have let us go if we weren’t,” the Delphox pointed out.

     “Right, I more meant, you know,” Emilia fumbled her words. “Are you...alright?”

     Luka tried to stretch a bit. “I’m fine, Miss Reptilia. Just...have some things to think about now.”

     “It was...an experience, and that’s about the nicest way to say it,” Kit added. He sighed audibly. “So much for vacation...”

     “We still have tomorrow, right?” Emilia suggested.

     Nobody immediately replied.

     “I’m sorry for ruining the trip, foxy...” the Zoroark sadly muttered into a couch cushion.

     “You didn’t ruin the trip,” Kit scolded. “...alright, maybe you sucked us into exorcising a cabin against our wills, but at least some good came out of it. Monarch Ridge is a better place now.”

     Emilia sat down next to the Zoroark and patted his head. “Maybe we’ll just walk around town tomorrow, weather permitting. Nobody says we have to go skiing on the ski trip, right? We can see the sights, find a restaurant or two to visit, oh, I have to show you guys the library here. It is so neat! Remind me to bring my almanac if we do that! There’s this Claydol named LARS with a bunch of copies of himself who zips around and finds stuff and...”

     “Breathe, Emilia,” Loge reminded.

     “Sorry,” she blushed.

     Luka glanced over at the mess of research on the far wall of the living room and raised an eyebrow. “What happened over there?”

     The Salazzle turned to it as well. “Right, that. Well...I was kinda lingering on what you said to me at the lodge before you and Luka went to find Loge. I-I know you probably didn’t mean anything by it, but I’ve never really been much of a fighter and when you said you were stronger than me, I...guess that lit a fire under me to show I can still be helpful.”

     Loge peered up from the cushions at his roommate. “What are you talking about? You were great during that fight with the Trevenant.”

     “I guess, but...” the Salazzle rubbed the top of her snout. “We kinda got the drop on them. We had time to plan and everything. I don’t do that great when I have to start improvising.”

     “Which is why you like researching and figuring things out ahead of time,” Kit stated.

     Emilia looked at the Delphox with an air of surprise, then gave a small chuckle. “...yeah. Yeah, something like that.”

     Luka leaned on the back of the chair Kit was sitting in. “Well, without your help, the cabin would have never been fully healed and Patton and Penny would have never moved on.”

     The Salazzle’s tongue flicked in and out of her mouth some more. “I mean...it looked like there was a fight going on in there. And I arrived too late to...”

     “You found some vital clues to ending the mystery of that place once and for all,” Kit interrupted. “We might have done a lot of the dirty work, but for all we know Patton would have just regained his power and form after a few days. We would have won, maybe, but it would have been temporary or incomplete. You finished a job we couldn’t have.”

     Loge snickered. “That’s Kit-ese for ‘thanks for helping.’”

     The Delphox rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that. Thanks, Emilia.”

     “Indeed,” the Lucario nodded and bowed. He let out a short yell of pain as he remembered why that was a bad idea.

     Emilia looked at her friends, then gave a shy but appreciative smile. “I’m...glad I could be useful.”

     Loge hopped up and cracked his knuckles. “Alright! Then in honor of our resident renowned journalist and behavioral scientist’s efforts, she gets to decide what we’re making for dinner tonight. What are we feeling like?”

     “Like I fell on a firework right before it ignited,” Kit groaned.

     “Like Sergeant Titus sicced himself on me while Javi used my stomach for combat practice,” Luka reported.

     “You two know what I’m asking,” the Zoroark said, ears drooped.

     “How about some options?” Emilia suggested with a spark in her eyes. “We do have all those ingredients from yesterday; might as well do something with them and split the leftovers when we get home?”

     “Oooh, been a while since I’ve done a buffet! Plus food is an important part to healing after getting hurt.”

     “You’re just looking for an excuse to eat,” Kit groaned.

     “He’s not completely wrong,” the Lucario responded. “Anything high protein will do for me.”

     “I could do with some brain food, if you can,” the Salazzle requested. “Had a big day with research and whatnot.”

     “Got it!” Loge enthusiastically nodded. “What about you, foxy?”

     Kit blankly stared back at the toothily grinning Zoroark. “For someone who was in immanent danger an hour or two ago, you bounced back pretty fast.”

     “If you don’t say anything, I’ll have to guess,” he singsongingly taunted.

     The Delphox wanted to protest more but gave up after a second. “I’ll try whatever Emilia’s trying,” he ordered.

     “Sounds like a plan,” Loge replied, clapping his hands together. “Then the last thing I need is my apron...”

     Kit flicked a couple of his fingers. The pink apron flew in from the kitchen and landed on Loge’s head. The embroidered Ember just looked happy to be there.

     “...thank you, Kit!” he continued and marched towards the oven. “Let’s get cookin’!”

“And that was it. We came back here, went back to our normal schedules like we didn’t just exorcise a haunted house, and now Luka’s promotion test might be coming up sometime soon as well.”

     “I see. Even on vacation your days sound packed.”

     “I honestly wish they weren’t sometimes.”

     “I’m aware this may not be the best thing to say, but I still think your time in Monarch Ridge was well spent.”

     “Can’t really call it a vacation if you get sucked into more work.”

     “I can understand the feeling. But you have that event with Master Luka coming up, don’t you?”

     “He still needs approval from his mentor first, and the date’s not fixed yet, but yeah. Kind of.”

     “Speaking of whom, how is he doing? It sounds like he had an ordeal of his own up there.”

     “He’s fine. Back to training and everything like he never left. But...I think his mind’s cleared up now.”

     “How so?”

     “I mean, not that I would know or anything, but...after all that stuff he said about Sanji and not wanting to let go of her, when he confronted Patton, it felt like he figured something out.”

     “I think book five, chapter eight, verse six is a good passage to reminisce on here. Have you memorized that one by chance?”

     “All beginnings must have ends, just as all sunrises have sunsets. When night falls, cry not for the day’s departure; rather celebrate what came with it and will come from it after.”

     “Indeed. Luka learned something vital towards helping Patton move on. And that is...well, how to move on. Valiant as his spirit was protecting her all this time, an existence consumed by grief and anger and self-doubt is not an especially worthwhile one.”

     “I had no idea Luka was going through all that. He’s usually the most level headed out of all of us. I knew something was wrong when we first arrived at the cabin but...”

     “Maybe that’s just how he is now that he’s grown up. But now you know his emotions are authentic. It’s never easy, and some people handle it more gracefully than others, but it’s important to confront hard events like this and accept what they mean.”

     “Yeah...you’re telling me.”

     “I’m happy for your friend. I don’t know how his life will change but I’m absolutely certain it will be for the better. I would take comfort in that, especially as you continue your own journey.”

     “...understood, sir. I’ll try.”

     “If it will help Luka, I wouldn’t be opposed to holding a small memorial service in Sanji’s name. As long as he remembers that this is to celebrate her and not continue mourning her.”

     “I’ll run it past him. Thank you, sir.”

     “It’s the least I can do, Kit. Arceus guide you.”

Medvedev crunched his way through the snow and iced-over gravel of the mountain trail. He was happy the sun was out for a change, but that just meant there was more dirty slush to stain his white pelt. He would have to scrub it out when he got home and before he went back to tending the other rental homes at Monarch Ridge.

     The Beartic was carrying a sign and a large mallet over his shoulders, making the hike that much more of a workout. He huffed with exhaustion with each step forward until he reached the end of the trail and stopped before the cabin. The hole in its roof was covered up by a canvas tarp, anchored by small iron pitons. It was hardly an elegant solution, but it at least kept the snow out.

     Medvedev set his items down and sat on his lower legs before the cabin’s front door. He cleared his throat. “You...likely don’t know me. And, uh, mne zhal' if my Kuremic steps through like...like it did just now.”

     His face flushed a little and he shook his head. “Sorry, starting over. Name’s Medvedev. Long ago, my great-great-granddad did something terrible. He wanted control back of Monarch Ridge. Control you took from him. He offered you money. And power. And every time he did, you told him no.”

     He sighed, his exhale going unsteady for a second. “You told him no so many times that he only saw one solution. You were murdered that night, along with your love. I...I know I had nothing to do with this, but...I’m here to apologize. I don’t know for what. I didn’t do anything to either of you. It’s that...if I don’t then nobody else will. So I’m sorry. I’m sorry this was your fate.”

     He bowed his head and sat still for a minute.

     He took another deep breath and looked back up at the cabin. “I don’t know how to make things up. Don’t know if I can at this point. But...there is something I can do. At minimum, I do this for you. I hope you accept it.”

     He stood up, picked up the wooden sign and mallet, and walked over towards the end of the tail. With a roar of effort, he drove the sign into the dirt with a satisfying chunk. He then picked up the mallet and started hammering the sign further in.

     “In Sosnagrad, we have saying: Lyudi umirayut dvazhdy. It means people die twice. First, when your body stops functioning. And second, when people forget your name.”

     He finished pounding the sign as far as it would go, then shook it to make sure it was stable.

     “I can’t do anything about first part, but least I can do is make sure second part never happens. Town already has memorials and trails and the rest, but this is from me personally.”

     He marched around to the front of the sign to examine his handiwork. He crossed his arms and smiled weakly.

     “Moy podarok vam, moi druz'ya. Pozhaluysta, primite eto.”

     Burned into the wood sign: The Historic Home of Patton the Rhydon and Penny the Sawsbuck.

The setting sun bathed the interior of the Silver Coast School of Iron Fist in a calming orange glow. Luka continued to attack the arms of the wooden training dummy, picking up speed each repetition. He kept focus on his breathing, trying not to lose his form in any given set.

     A tap of a cane hit the open front door. “This a bad time?”

     “One moment, Grand Master,” Luka replied. He finished the set of twenty parries flawlessly, then fired a forceful punch into the dummy’s midsection. It violently rocked back and forth on its base and eventually came to a stop.

     Yugo slowly clapped from the school’s entrance. “Very impressive. Twenty for twenty plus a solid Meteor Mash to finish.”

     “Thank you, sir,” Luka stated. He turned and bowed before his old mentor. “Forgive my absence. I know you wanted to discuss the Middle Master trial with me.”

     “We have plenty of time, Luka. I said I wasn’t in a hurry to go anywhere,” Yugo consoled as he hobbled inside. He stopped in the center of the main room and narrowed his eyes. “Hmm...”

     Luka’s expression went confused. “Grand Master?”

     “What happened to the Master Luka that was here last week?” Yugo inquired. “He seems to have been replaced.”

     The younger Lucario paused for a moment. “I’ve had time to reflect on what you said. About Sanji and my motivation.”

     “Have you now...” Yugo replied, intrigue saturating his voice. “And what have you concluded?”

     Luka took a deep breath, then sat on his legs and bowed again. “That I need to accept what happened. There are some obstacles that I cannot merely power through with more training. If I am to continue to hone my abilities, I need to continue honing myself, both in the physical and metaphysical.”

     Yugo rested on his cane and examined his student more closely.

     “I will never forget Sanji, but I’m done tearing myself apart over what happened to her. She will live on within me as my closest friend, and as long as I fight, that will never change. And with that, Grand Master, I respectfully ask for your blessing to undergo my trial for the rank of Middle Master.”

     “Look up at me, boy,” Yugo requested.

     Luka righted his posture and stared determinedly at the elder Lucario.

     Yugo stared back at him. Then he started to chuckle.

     “Grand Master?”

     Yugo started to laugh, doubled over his cane in laughter.

     “G-Grand Master, are you alright?” Luka asked.

     “There it is!” he exclaimed. He tapped his cane on the dojo’s padded floors. “There it is! There’s that fire I’ve missed! He’s back!”

     Luka cocked his head a little, then heaved a sigh. A very slight smile crept onto his face. “Yes. I suppose I am.”

     Yugo calmed himself down, grinning widely at his student. “You absolutely have my blessing, Luka. Oh, this will be a scintillating match to watch. So much so I’ve gone ahead and made preparations already.”

     Luka’s eyes went wide. “Sorry, you have?”

     “Absolutely! Well, somewhat. Scheduling at Mt. Whisper is not something you just pencil in ahead of time. I’m happy to tell you about it shortly,” Yugo beamed. “But before that, I would like you to meet your opponent for your trial.”

     The younger Lucario raised an eyebrow but nodded anyways. “Of course. If you insist.”

Archie hummed a jaunty tune to himself as he made some final adjustments to his Teleportamator. He was very excited today; this branch of Archer Teleportation Lines usually did not get much traffic, so whenever he got informed of an arrival or departure for his station, that day’s good score jumped up by three or four points at minimum.

     The machine beeped at him as he found the coordinates for his arrivals, and he mashed the button to lock onto them.

     “Alazamboozle!” he shouted to the empty station. A beam of energy shot onto the circle in the room’s floor and vanished a few seconds later, leaving a Delphox, a Salazzle, and a very dizzy Zoroark standing in the center.

     “Welcome to Mt. Whisper, folks!” he happily greeted. He noticed the brim of his conical straw hat was falling over his eyes and he pushed it back up.

     “Thanks,” Loge muttered as he staggered out of the circle. “Which...which way is...the up?”

     “Can I get you a sick bag, sir?” Archie politely offered.

     “I think he’ll be okay,” Emilia assured. “This trip was a bit longer than what he’s used to.”

     “Let me know if that changes!” the Arcanine cheerily panted. “What brings you guys here?”

     Kit stretched and got a small travel map from the station’s brochure stand. “We’re looking for the monastery. Something called the Grand Dojo specifically?”

     “Oh, neat! Are you here for the Middle Master trial?”

     Emilia sat Loge down on a cushioned chair and patted his back. “How did you know?”

     “Trials are always big events here. Everyone loves a good martial arts fight!” Archie woofed. “Let me think, I believe the candidate is...”

     “Master Luka,” the Delphox nodded. “We’re his guests of honor. Whatever that means.”

     Archie’s eyes lit up. “That’s so cool! That means balcony seats alongside some of the Grand Masters and autographs and free food and souvenir hats and...”

     “Sounds fancy,” Loge remarked as his mind slowly recalibrated.

     “How many people are there going to be?” Emilia asked.

     “It’ll be a packed house. Always is,” Archie explained. “Doors open at noon, there will be a few exhibition fights to get everyone excited, and the main event is set for six I believe.”

     Loge did the math. “Let's see, it's ten thirty...so that means we have about an hour and a half to find a snack, get to our inn, grab an early lunch, and go to the dojo?”

     “Or we can save money and just wait until we’re there before eating?” Kit suggested. “Probably a bit more pragmatic.”

     “You’re starting to sound like my dad,” the Zoroark flatly retorted.

     “You won’t be disappointed,” Archie woofed. “The Schools of Brass Wok and Clay Jug are some of the best culinarians around.”

     Loge blinked. His mouth watered a little. “And...you said it was on the house?”

     “For folks like you, usually, yes!”

     “...Kit, we need get time moving faster.”

     The Delphox sighed. “I left Dialga’s contact information at the firm. I’ll make sure to bring it next time.”

     “Wait, you have that?” Emilia asked, wide-eyed. Her tail twitched wildly.

     “Of course I don’t!” Kit barked. “What sort of life do you think I lead?”

     “Didn’t Luka’s friend say the first monks here had a tournament where they met Rayquaza?” Loge asked. “Just saying, it’s possible.”

     “Wait, they did?!” Emilia exclaimed. The black blur behind her swung back and forth faster than Archie’s tail. “I-I need to sit them down for an interview! Where are...”

     “They’re dead, Emilia,” Kit pointed out.

     Her tail stopped and her tongue flipped around a little. “That makes sense.”

     “Well, what are we spending ninety minutes on then?” Loge moaned.

     “We’re going to the monastery anyways,” the Salazzle mentioned. “So let’s unload at our inn and hike up. I can get some more information for my almanac, Kit can do some sightseeing, and who knows maybe that School of...what was it again, Archie?”

     “Brass Wok, miss!”

     “Maybe they’ll be doing something neat outside the venue. What do you think?”

     “I like it!” Loge exclaimed as he jumped to his feet, then put a hand to his head. “Whoa...or maybe a nap. Naps are nice.”

     Kit pulled Loge’s arm over his shoulders and helped walk him out the door. “Come on, you doofus.”

     “Thanks for the ride!” Emilia called back to the Arcanine. Archie bowed politely, his hat sliding over his eyes again, as the three friends exited onto the street.

The three friends filed up a staircase towards a private balcony. The Grand Dojo may not have amounted to much more than a glorified fighting ring – an octagon surrounded by red wooden walls with elevated areas for seating, much like a colosseum – but the venue ran rich with character and tradition. Tapestries of masters long past hung in the lobbies and hallways connecting the seating areas. The dojo was built into an outcrop, providing views of the cliffside and vibrant valley below in a few places. Large long banners advertising the upcoming bout hung for yards at a time. There were no mistakes to be made; the monastery at Mt. Whisper took their disciplines seriously, and every high rank advancement was something to be celebrated in the most extravagant venue they had.

     Emilia’s interest was elsewhere at the time. Her tail had been twitching and wagging wildly ever since she first set foot on the grounds of the massive arena, and now that she was face to face with what she assumed were the Grand Masters of Mt. Whisper, she had to resist every urge in her being to not yank out her notepad and pounce on one of them for an interview.

     To the Delphox, it looked like she was meandering her living room in the middle of the night and just kicked the coffee table. “It’s okay, I’m sure it’s hard,” he assuaged her, patting her shoulder.

     Her tail snapped straight up with an almost audible sproing. “S-s-sorry, sorry! It’s...just...Necrozma, look at how many people are here!”

     “You can probably ask one or two of them questions after the fight,” Kit suggested.

     “...that’s it?”

     “I’m trying to help,” Kit flatly replied as they shuffled down their row towards their seats. Emilia was ahead of him, though he really wished she would pick up her pace. Loge was behind him with six or seven boxes of authentic Mt. Whisper cuisine and Kit was not interested in being in the way of the wobbling, swaying, possibly collapsing tower of food.

     An older Lucario carrying a cane stood up near the end of the row and waved at them. “Luka’s guests of honor, I presume?” he called over the raucous crowd noise.

     Emilia practically sprinted over to his side. She nabbed his hand and shook it exuberantly. “Y-yes sir! Thank you so much for having us! Emilia Reptilia, reporter, behavioral scientist, PR lady, knower of things and...”

     “My goodness, that’s a long title,” the Lucario chuckled. “Luka’s told me a good bit about your exploits, Miss Emilia. Perhaps you can regale me with a tale or two later?”

     “I’d love to!” the Salazzle’s eyes lit up. “We have the story at Black Forest, the one with Hattie P.I., the one with Titus...”

     “He said ‘later,’ Emilia,” Kit sighed and more cordially shook the elder’s hand. “Kit the Delphox, I’m one of Luka’s students actually.”

     “Grand Master Yugo the Lucario,” Yugo smiled back. “And I’ve heard about this. Seeking more mastery over your...I believe you’re a telepath?”

     “Telekinetic, sir. Telepathy is sending messages. I can move things without touching them.”

     “Ah. Excuse me, I don’t really dabble in those sorts of things much,” Yugo chuckled, then peered up and behind him. “...might I recommend getting out of the way?”

     Kit turned around and pointed at the tower of boxes, stabilizing them with psychic energy. “Seriously, someone’s going to get hurt.”

     “Well, help me unload them then!” Loge barked, leaning around the tower to look his friend in the eye. He wore a souvenir hat on his head; Kit would not have said anything about it had it not been for the cupholders on either end of the cap. Loge had already secured two cups of carbonated berry juice to it and looped a bendy straw into each with the loose ends dangling near his mouth.

     “Still can’t believe you’re wearing that,” the Delphox blankly noted.

     “What, you think I’m gonna look away from the fight just so I can find my drink?” the Zoroark snapped back.

     “...he has a point,” Emilia chimed in.

     “Don’t encourage him,” Kit groaned, his face in his hand.

     “I was hardly expecting our seats to be catered,” Yugo replied. “But it’s a most welcome surprise. How’s Master Gordo holding up?”

     “The Snorlax? He looked like he was doing great,” the Zoroark answered. “Had a bunch of his students make this whole spread for us. Share the love, foxy! Plenty for everyone.”

     Kit levitated a few of the boxes down and started passing them around as everyone took their seats. “Is the Grand Dojo always this full for a fight night?”

     “Not always, no,” the Lucario said as he opened a box of fried rice. “Let’s just say that this event is going to be special, and not just because Luka’s returned.”

     Emilia’s eyes sparkled in the light of the myriad braziers of the dojo. “Mind if I ask how, then?”

     “You’ll see, Miss Emilia,” Yugo chuckled.

The crowd cheered and clapped as a Mawile holding a megaphone strode out to the center of the octagonal ring. She held it behind herself, near the grey viselike jaws of her second mouth, and read the script in her hands. Her voice echoed through the megaphone and out of the enchanted horns attached to the pillars around the dojo. “Mt. Whisper! Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages! Welcome to the Grand Dojo! How is everyone doing?”

     The crowd cheered louder. Emilia whooped. Loge whistled enthusiastically. Kit decided on a polite clap.

     The Mawile laughed to herself. “Nooooo, nonono, that doesn’t sound like a crowd about to see some prime grade fighting! I said! How? Are? We? Doiiiiiiing?!?”

     Loge bent himself over the balcony to yell, “GREEEEEEEEEEEAT!!!” at the top of his voice. Emilia and Kit jumped out of their seats to reel him back in.

     “That’s more like it!” beamed the Mawile. “I am, of course, your illustrious master of ceremonies, Candidate Master Stela of the School of Shadow Fang. We had some awesome exhibition fights to open up tonight. Show these guys some love, what do you say?”

     Another round of cheers and applause.

     “But the time has come for our main event! Let’s make some noise for tonight’s Middle Master trial!”

     The braziers dimmed. A drumming band started an intense beat that shook the floors in the stands. An array of small spotlights danced across one of the metal gates installed in a far wall.

     “Presenting, your contender, in the blue corner!” Stela announced. The gate slowly receded upwards with audible metallic clanks. “He graduated from the monastery with flying colors, tested for his Candidate Master rank the year after, and tested for Master the year after that! He went to spread his knowledge far and wide with all the people he could reach, and now he’s hungry for another promotion! Hailing from Silver Coast and representing the School of Iron Fist...!”

     The dancing spotlights became one and shone on a Lucario slowly stepping out of the tunnel, punching his palms repeatedly.

     “Master Lukaaaaaaaaaaaaa the Lucarioooooooooo!”

     “GO LUKAAAAAA!” Loge shrieked. “Knock ‘em dead! Pulverize! Maim! Kimmmmph!” Kit angrily clamped his muzzle shut before he could finish that last command.

     “Good luck, my boy!” Yugo cheered, shaking his cane in the air.

     Luka raised a fist and the crowd roared again. He stopped in the center of the ring and bowed reverently before the balcony seats of his friends and mentors. He then knelt down on a white chalk line drawn on the stone floor and took a long breath to clear his head.

     “And now, his opponent, in the red corner!” Stela shouted, spinning around and pointing at the gate opposite Luka. The spotlights swirled around the gate as the Mawile continued speaking. “A very special event for everyone in attendance! A practitioner of a long-lost school, which the Grand Dojo has not seen in over four hundred years! But make no mistake, she is still one of our own, as you will see in this spicy, electrifying combination of techniques both new and old!”

     Luka heaved another heavy breath. He glared intensely at the now open gate, and the figure behind the dancing lights.

     “Make some noise! Hailing from Mt. Whisper and Sky Dojo and representing the School of Dragon’s Dance...!”

“S...Sanji?”

     A magenta furred Lucario leaned against the doorframe, the evening sun to her back. She wore black silk pants, with a green and gold serpentlike creature stitched down the sides. She smiled warmly at Luka, though her eyes looked almost sad.

     “Hey,” she whispered after a minute. “It’s...been a bit.”

     Luka’s jaw hung open. All color vanished from his face. “I...I...”

     Sanji looked around the school’s interior. “I...like what you’ve done with the place?”

     “You...I...” Luka stammered.

     “When Grand Master Nessa and I found out about this, Luka, trust me, we had a similar reaction,” Yugo quietly stated. “I know this is a lot to...”

     His aura feelers fluttered in the wake of Luka rushing past him and embracing his friend. He held her tighter than any time before. His breathing was shaky and spiky. His eyes watered up. He shut them to not let anyone notice. “You’re...you’re real...” he whispered.

     Sanji slowly hugged him back, with a chuckle that sounded more like a sob. A tear splashed the floor of the dojo. “I missed you too...”

     “I’ll come back later,” Yugo sighed with a tired smile and excused himself past the two of them, back into the streets of Silver Coast.

     “I’m sorry, Sanji...” Luka muttered. “I am so sorry about that day. I tried to pull you up and everything and I...I was too weak to do anything.”

     “Don’t say that, I...” Sanji paused to sniffle. “I was having too much fun and got caught up in it and...we should have left when we could have.”

     Luka broke off the hug and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “I...look at you...you...”

     “Evolved? Yeah...yeah, a while ago...you did too.”

     “I...I don’t know how honestly, I...” Luka spoke in a daze. “H...how did...?”

     Sanji’s eyes shimmered again. “So...you remember that old legend about Rayquaza and the tournament of the first monks?”

     “What about it?”

     “It’s real,” she sobbed happily. “Luka, that’s where I’ve been all this time. Rayquaza’s private dojo!”

     Luka’s eyes widened in shock. “How...I, I thought you were...”

     “Dead, yeah...yeah, I can get why you’d think that,” Sanji nodded, wiping a tear from her eye. “You...wanna hear what happened?”

     “Yes!” Luka immediately replied. “Yes, everything. I...I have to know.”

     The magenta Lucario offered a familiar, playful grin. “You, uh...have any tea maybe?”

“Middle Master Saaaaaaanjiiiiii the Lucariooooooo!” Stela boomed.

     Kit’s eyebrow raised.

     Loge’s ears perked.

     Emilia’s eyes glinted.

     “Sanji?!” all three of them repeated at once.

     A magenta colored Lucario flipped and kicked her way into the ring, ending in a handstand with her legs scissored apart from each other. She beamed confidently at her counterpart kneeling across from her, then sprung up with multiple midair spirals, landed on her feet, and bowed towards the guests of honor as well before finally taking her marks similar to Luka.

     “Is...is that supposed to be intimidating?” Loge remarked. “Looks like she’s just dancing.”

     “Watch what you say, now,” the elder Lucario cautioned over the crowd’s ruckus. “That’s often the first thing people say about the School of Flame Dance, and very frequently it’s also the last.”

     “Sorry, Flame Dance?” Kit asked. “Thought the announcer said Dragon’s Dance.”

     Yugo chuckled again. “Well, when you receive training from the mighty Rayquaza, I think that warrants...”

     “RAYQUAZA?!?” the Salazzle interjected. She leaped out of her chair and almost vaulted the railing. Loge and Kit grabbed her tail and anchored themselves against the banister.

     Her words fired off at nearly supersonic pace. “Holy guacamole this is the interview to end them all I have to talk to her this is urgent the fight can wait this is going right in the almanac can she take me to him oh Necrozma please say she can take me to him!”

     “Down, girl!” the Zoroark commanded. “Sit! Stay! Heel! Fetch!”

     Kit got his telekinesis to yank harder on Emilia’s tail and eventually the two managed to wrangle Emilia back into her seat. Yugo felt like he should have said something, but was not completely sure what, and just decided to turn back to the ring.

     Stela paced away towards the door she used to enter as the braziers relit themselves to full strength. “Our referee overseeing the match is Grand Master Hei of the School of Gold Scales. Good luck to both of our competitors!”

     A Mienshao strode up to the two Lucarios and looked at each of them in turn. “Master Luka, Middle Master Sanji, this is a trial. One untimed round, no judging, the fight only ends by submission or knockout. Follow my instructions, don’t do anything stupid, let’s have a good fight. Agreed?”

     “Agreed,” Luka replied. He leered intensely at Sanji.

     “Agreed,” Sanji replied. She gave Luka a teasing grin.

     Hei rose his arms. “Rise.”

     The two Lucarios stood up.

     “Bow.”

     They bowed, Sanji slightly deeper than Luka.

     “Ready.”

     Luka stood with his left foot forward and raised his fists.

     Sanji hopped around a little, then slid her right foot behind her left foot. She then returned it to where it would be if she was standing normally, then slid her left foot behind her right, alternating back and forth like she was performing a dance. She swung her arms to keep the momentum.

     Hei raised his right hand.

     The noise in the dojo simmered down immediately.

     Luka took one final deep breath.

     Sanji continued the dance.

     Loge slurped his drinks.

     And after a moment that felt like an hour...

Luka blinked in astonishment. “So he was in the storm then.”

     Sanji nodded and sipped out of her cup. “And he found me at the base of the cliff face. Apparently, I was barely alive.”

     “How...far did you drop?” Luka asked, unsure if that was polite to ask.

     “The vertical part stopped a second or two after I lost sight of you. I can take a blow like that. The hard part was all of the boulders and trees and everything on the slope down.” She lifted her right leg onto the table and rolled her pants up. A long scar ran up her leg past the knee. “That one was fun. Took almost a month to heal properly. Was honestly worried I’d need to look into learning a new school.”

     “Arceus...” Luka muttered under his breath. “Who was taking care of you then?”

     “It was just him,” Sanji shrugged, lowering her leg again. “Kept an eye on me while I healed up in Sky Dojo. Then once I could stand again, he...well, he offered to be my new mentor.”

     Luka’s eyes went wide again. “Why would he do that? And where was Nessa and everyone else during this?”

     Sanji itched her head and smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, so uh...this is the part where tradition might start to annoy you. See, Rayquaza doesn’t just go around teaching martial arts to anyone he finds beat up on a mountainside. He only ever has one student at a time, and he only really watches the fights at Dragon’s Nest since he’s busy, you know, being a sky god the rest of the time. And...well, he was impressed. So I told him I’d think about it. While I was doing that one night, he decided to bring Master Nessa over to see how I was doing.”

     “What did she say?”

     “It was a high honor. The School of Dragon’s Thunder is a secret art, forbidden to be taught by anyone besides Rayquaza. And learning it would require months of training. In secret. Like, super mega ultra top secret.”

     “...which is why you never contacted anyone either.”

     “I was allowed to tell Nessa and Yugo but they had to swear to keep quiet about it until my training was done. The monastery let me do my trials normally afterward and, well, here we are,” she continued, with a small laugh. “Legendary mentors go hard by the way. Don’t study under them if you don’t know what you’re getting into.”

     “What was it like? Dragon’s Thunder sounds like a lot of Electric based attacks.”

     “Yeah, kinda,” Sanji nodded. “But a lot of it was punches and strong kicks and...I dunno, it was a little rigid for me, if that made any sense.”

     “That sounds frustrating,” Luka stated with a sip of tea.

     “Yeah, he was getting fed up a bit as well. But we had an idea one day. Why not try taking some of the stuff I learned from the School of Flame Dance and applying some of the strength-based techniques Rayquaza wanted to teach me? And it took a couple days to work the particulars out but when we did...”

     She looked up from her drink and nodded towards the dojo’s floor with a smirk. “Why don’t I just show you?”

     “You think that’s really fair?” the blue Lucario asked. “I mean, to me. Normally trial opponents don’t spar against each other once the fight is arranged.”

     “Who’s gonna tattle on us? Yugo?” Sanji replied. “Come on, the old geezer’s probably just happy we’re making up for lost time.”

     Luka paused, then downed the rest of his tea and joined her. “Alright, nothing serious though.”

     “Sure, sure,” the magenta Lucario chuckled. “Besides, I’ve gotta save something for the main event, don’t I?” She spun around and wound up into her normal “stance.”

     Luka could not help but let a reserved smile creep onto his face. “That you do.” He took up a defensive stance and stared at his old friend. “Just like old times?”

     “Heh. Yeah. Just like,” Sanji grinned.

“FIGHT!”

     Luka lunged forward and threw a quick jab to Sanji’s head. Sanji deftly dodged to her right and translated the momentum into a sweeping kick. Luka dodged backward and immediately had to parry away a high heel kick towards his chin.

     He glowered at Sanji as she transitioned into a short knee kick towards his stomach. He blocked it with a palm and then immediately crouched to deny the incoming low sweep. Sanji’s eyes went wide as she took a shining fist right to her torso. She slid backwards on her back as the crowd cheered.

     “Yeah-heah, give it to her, Luka!” Loge shouted as he slurped his drink. “She’s just a dancer! They’re a Poké a dozen in Spark City!”

     “What did I tell you about underestimating her?” Yugo scolded. He leaned forward on his cane.

     Sanji shook her head as she propped herself on her elbows.

     “The Junkyard Kick?” Luka sighed as he reset himself. “Really?”

     “Gotta make sure you know the basics,” Sanji grinned. She rolled around on her body, legs spinning in the air, and used the momentum to leap feet first at Luka. Luka shuffled back to avoid the kick. The magenta Lucario landed short, but seamlessly transitioned into a cartwheel and before Luka could pivot to reface her, she stopped on her hands and delivered a whirling blow of a kick to the back of Luka’s head. The blue Luacrio fell onto his stomach and Sanji leaped off of her hands and into the air. A half-somersault later, she landed back on the ground, digging her right heel into Luka’s back.

     Emilia gasped. “She’s really fast when she wants to be, isn’t she?”

     “The School of Flame Dance is about rhythm, flow, conversion of energy,” Yugo stated. “She’ll just keep switching back and forth between offense and defense until Luka finds a way to disrupt that.”

     Kit glanced over at Yugo. “Flame Dance? Not Dragon’s Dance?”

     “These are all techniques I’ve seen Grand Master Nessa perform in one way or another,” the Lucario nodded. “Everyone has cards up their sleeves, and both of our competitors are taking their time playing them.”

     Sanji hopped onto her feet and then crouched down, twisting her body and putting one hand to the ground. Pink flames erupted near her feet.

     The crowd gasped and muttered amongst themselves.

     “For example,” Yugo said. “Those are normally red or orange.”

     “Dragonfire,” Emilia muttered under her breath.

     Luka tried to push himself to his feet.

     Sanji swept her back foot at Luka, a stream of pink fire engulfing her kick’s trajectory. It landed on his shins, and Luka would have fallen over again if a second kick to his chest did not send him skyward. The crowd cheered as Sanji continued a series of roundhouse kicks, with her and Luka soaring higher and higher into the air with each blow. The flames licked at Luka’s fur and the blows pulverized his skeleton until a sudden kick to his gut blew the wind out of him. He coughed, wide-eyed, stunned, perched multiple feet in the air on Sanji’s foot.

     Emilia’s jaw hung open.

     Kit put a hand over his mouth.

     Loge’s eyes went wide.

     “Behold,” Yugo solemnly said. “The Dance of the Dragon.”

     Sanji flipped over on her flaming skates and rocketed her counterpart into the stone floor. It cracked under the impact and a small cloud of dust kicked up.

     Hei walked over to the dust cloud and squinted his eyes as he shooed away some of the dust. “Master Luka, are...”

     He could make out Luka’s hand being held out towards him.

     Hei nodded and stepped back. “Resume.”

     “He’s getting minced...” Loge muttered through gritted teeth.

     “Why’s he letting this go on?” Emilia wondered aloud, then gripped her mouth shut. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, but...”

     “He’s thinking,” Kit stated.

     Yugo turned to the Delphox. “Thinking about what, may I ask?”

     “Does the School of Flame Dance teach much about auras, by chance?” Kit asked back.

     The Lucario itched his cheek. “All of the schools cover the basics, but only Lucarios bother with learning the more intricate details and applications. Luka took to my lessons like a kite to wind.”

     “I see,” Kit replied, crossing his arms. “I think Sanji might be in trouble shortly.”

     “How do you figure?” Loge skeptically chimed in.

     “Just watch,” Kit said, pointing at the cloud.

     Sanji smiled playfully and raised her right leg high above her head. “This was a ton of fun,” she beamed. She jumped off of her pink fiery platform and dove towards Luka’s crater, flipping over and over, creating a massive fiery wheel as she careened down.

     The dust cloud dissipated as the kick connected. The crowd saw a surprised look on Sanji’s face. Luka’s hands, coated in blue aura flame, had caught her attacking foot harmlessly. Sanji stood on one foot, the strands of dragonfire limply falling to the ground around her, and tried to shake Luka off of her.

     Then she noticed his eyes were shut.

     He chuckled to himself. “I just remembered something. You were gone training under Rayquaza all this time. And he may have taught you secret arts, but there’s one thing he couldn’t have taught you.”

     Kit had the exact same thought and his green eye narrowed at Sanji.

     Luka’s eyes shot open. They glowed an intense gold.

     “You never finished your aura training, did you?” they both stated.

     Sanji growled and tried to deliver a cartwheeling kick to Luka’s head, hoping the twist or the flames would cause his grip to yield. Luka tossed her leg up and flipped her over. She managed to land on her feet but not before a sharp, hard combination of punches came her way. She blocked and dodged each in turn, and after ducking under an errant right hook she attempted a backflip, trying to catch the blue Lucario on the chin.

     Luka leaned backwards to dodge it, and then clapped his aura-charged hands around the two streams of dragonfire, leaving Sanji dangling upside-down.

     The crowd gasped.

     Loge choked on his drink.

     Emilia’s tail shot straight up.

     Kit blinked.

     Yugo laughed heartily.

     “Your dragonfire,” Luka grunted. “When I saw your attack coming from within the dust cloud, I saw your aura, but I also saw these flames along with it. They’re alive. They’re an extension of you. Your weapon.”

     His hands burned more intensely with azure flame. Sanji gasped as she saw the pink flame trails start to get absorbed into her counterpart’s hands.

     “Weapons can be disarmed,” he coolly stated.

     Sanji grunted and swung her body around like a pendulum to get on top of Luka and grapple him. She tried to force her legs into a headlock position, but before she could execute anything, she fell to the floor.

     The pink flames had vanished from her feet and were now swirling around Luka’s fists.

     She yelled and took another sweeping blow at Luka’s legs. He jumped backwards out of the way. She rode the momentum back to her feet and jumped, hoping one of the two circle kicks she fired off would find their mark.

     Inside the Grand Dojo, it felt like Dialga had roared, and time itself slowed for the audience. Luka had slid forward, crouching just low enough for the first of Sanji’s kicks to soar inches above his head. As he did, his azure and pink flame covered fist sparkled in the light, and before the second kick could come anywhere close to striking him, it impacted Sanji directly in the abdomen.

     A blue and pink fireball erupted from his fist as a mighty crash echoed inside the dojo. The crowd went silent as the dust cleared. The wooden wall directly across from Luka had been shattered, with Sanji limply sitting amongst the wreckage.

     Luka and Hei dashed up to her. “Sanji? You alright?”

     Sanji coughed and spat at the floor. “Heh...yeah, I’ll be fine...”

     She raised her hand off the ground.

     Luka immediately readied his stance, glowing flames at the ready.

     Sanji grinned at Luka, weakly, wearily, but proudly. “Nice fight.”

     She knocked on the stone floor.

     The crowd erupted in cheers.

     Loge leaped out of his seat and started yelling at the top of his lungs.

     Emilia whistled and whooped, wondering when she could get a hold of Sanji after this.

     “That’s my boy!” Yugo laughed as he stamped his cane on the ground.

     Kit could not help but loose a loud cheer or two of his own.

     Loge grabbed his friend’s shoulder and continued cheering. The Delphox gave up after a second and joined in.

     Hei walked over to Luka, gripped his right wrist, and raised it triumphantly.

     An enthusiastic Mawile came over the loudspeakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, this trial has ended! Please allow us to introduce Middle Master Luka of the School of Iron Fist!”

     Luka steadied his breath, and for the first time in his life, let out a scream of jubilation.