Chương 60: Chapter 52: Who could blame us

SNAP. The sharp sound of a case snapping shut echoed softly through the room, and as it did so Cynthia glanced back up at the mirror and couldn't help but smile at her reflection. She wasn't usually the type to linger in front of one, fussing with makeup or trying to doll herself up, but that didn't mean she was against it, either. She just rarely saw much point. After all, on the road, makeup was more trouble than it was worth. Heat, sweat, and dust would ruin the effort within an hour.

And in the cities it simply took time she didn't have—time better spent reaching the training fields early enough to secure space before the crowds arrived. Today, though? Well, it wasn't like she had much planned. Everyone had agreed they needed a break from training and battling, if only for a day. And with Johanna going to meet William, she and Myst would be on their own.

Aside from stopping by the Gym to schedule their match and a quick detour by the local ranger office for their statement, the day was completely free. Which meant they could just explore the city. That there was only going to be the two of them, at least until dinner. So really, if she wanted to look a little better than usual after nearly two weeks of being a complete wreck… who could blame her? It wasn't like there was any particular intention behind it. Just a whim. Her trying makeup for once.

After all, if not for days like this, why had she even bothered buying a mini makeup kit? She started to put the kit away—then paused. Her eyes flicked back to the mirror. Leaning a little closer, she studied her reflection and focused on her right cheek. Was it… Pursing her lips slightly, she grabbed the kit again, dabbed on a bit more foundation, then snapped it shut and finally set it aside. She reached for the second box resting on the counter and opened it.

With gentle care, she pulled out the Umbreon-themed hair clips Myst had given her back in Eterna City and fastened them into place before closing the box again. One last time, she looked into the mirror. Well. Good enough. She gave a small nod to herself and turned on her heels. … Cynthia had made it about halfway down the stairs from the sleeping quarters to the Pokémon Center lobby when she stopped, having caught sight of Myst.

He stood not far from the counter, leaning against a nearby pillar as he stared blankly at Nurse Joy, who was currently busy helping a pair of trainers. He looked… For a few seconds she studied him, taking in his appearance before giving a small, approving nod to herself. He looked acceptable. Not exceptional or anything—but then again, she hadn't exactly expected him to.

It was more than enough that his long hair was finally under control instead of the tangled crow's nest it had been before, and that the faint traces of dried blood that had stubbornly clung to it were finally gone. Like, sure, his clothes were still a bit of a mess, but considering he clearly hadn't done what she had and set aside a cleaner outfit for when they reached a city, that was more than forgivable. He had cleaned up as best he could. She couldn't really expect much more.

She took another couple of steps, only to stop again just before reaching the bottom of the stairs. A beat passed. Then, without permission, her mouth quirked into a smile, and her fingers twitched slightly. As long as she had known Myst, he had a habit of keeping his entire team out of their Poké Balls whenever he was allowed to. So it didn't really surprise her that they were all out now—that she simply hadn't been able to see them from where she'd first been standing.

It was just— Her smile widened into a grin as she took in the current state of his team. Navi sat on the counter with her legs dangling freely, a bright smile on her face as she nodded every few seconds. Beside her sat Rei, who looked like her complete opposite.

The Buneary was slumped over on a barstool with her head resting against the counter, wearing an expression that vaguely reminded Cynthia of how her grandmother sometimes looked after long meetings with League officials—something caught between wanting to give up on life and quietly calculating how close the nearest flask of whiskey might be. And the reason for both their moods? Swadloon. The little bug rested snugly in Myst's hands, looking for all the world like she was sitting on her very own throne.

Her tiny eyes darted back and forth as she tried to take in every sight at once. Every few seconds they would land on something new, and immediately her mouth would open as she chirped out a rapid question before turning expectantly toward Rei and Navi. If Navi got to answer, things went smoothly. The Kirlia would plant her hands firmly at her sides, lift her chin proudly, and launch into enthusiastic explanations, clearly delighted to be the one providing answers for once.

There was just one small problem, in all honestly. Even though Swadloon had only been in the human world about as long as Navi, Rei had spent far longer living with Myst. And so, whenever Swadloon's curious gaze landed on something involving people, it was apparently mostly Rei who ended up answering.

The normal-type would slowly lift her head, glance at whatever had caught Swadloon's attention, and give a short explanation—only to visibly deflate as Swadloon's eyes immediately locked onto something else a second later. Really, it was to the point that if Rei suddenly decided to start ignoring her, Cynthia was fairly certain Myst wouldn't blame her. After all, Swadloon still seemed to struggle with the fact that Rei and Navi weren't some kind of subordinates she could simply order around.

Somebody actually refusing to answer might even do the bug-grass type some good. Well, not that it mattered, since Rei never did. For all her reluctance and attitude, she never dismissed a single one of Swadloon's questions. She answered every time, as if she simply couldn't bring herself to ignore her. Like an older sister patiently answering her younger sibling's endless stream of questions. Cynthia shook her head wryly at the thought, even though it wasn't entirely wrong.

Honestly, the way Myst somehow managed to bring his whole team together like they were family… It was almost enough to make her jealous. It took Cynthia nearly two minutes before she finally managed to move again. Still, once she reached the final steps and stepped onto the lobby floor, she didn't waste any time. Within seconds she crossed the distance to Myst and tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"You ready to go?" she asked. Myst turned with a grin, one eyebrow arched.

"Really—you think you're the one who should be saying that? I've been ready forever, and I thought we agreed we were going to meet—" He stopped just as his eyes landed on her.

"uhh…" Cynthia forced herself to stay perfectly composed, and deliberately raised her own eyebrow.

"What?" Myst continued staring for another second before quickly shaking his head.

"Nothing," he said slowly, his gaze flicking away from her and toward the door.

"But yeah, we should get moving. You said it yourself, right? The earlier we get to the Gym, the better the chance we have of getting an earlier appointment." He started walking.

"Though it probably won't help much considering we're like a day behind everyone who followed the rangers back. But hey, maybe we can snipe a spot if someone shows up late or something." He reached the door and pushed it open, then paused when he realized she hadn't followed.

"You coming?" Cynthia stared at him. Her lips pursed. Then she marched straight past him and out the door. Whatever. … The Heartholm City Gym could best be described as looking vaguely like a haunted mansion—an old, looming structure that seemed determined to unsettle anyone who approached it. And, honestly, that wasn't that strange. It was a Ghost-type gym after all. A creepy mansion theme was perfectly on brand. So the problem wasn't that it looked like an old, dilapidated mansion.

The problem was that it looked like it actually was an old, dilapidated mansion. Half the windows were broken, jagged shards of glass still clinging to the frames while the rest lay scattered somewhere inside. Several tiles on the roof were missing, leaving dark gaps where the underlying boards showed through, and the walls themselves looked like they were almost bulging under their own weight. How did it end up looking like this? She knew how it was supposed to look.

She had seen pictures from when it had still been a Psychic-type Gym, run by the Miru clan. Back then, the building hadn't looked like a haunted ruin, but instead like a mansion designed to resemble an enormous library. The windows had been unbroken—tall, elegant things that filled the front façade, letting warm light spill out across the stone steps at night. The wooden exterior had been polished and well-kept, dark panels framed by carved beams that made the whole structure look refined rather than ominous.

Most importantly though, the entrance was just… Gone. Where there had once been a perfectly laid set of stone steps leading up to massive double doors—giant, imposing things carved with delicate symbols of the Miru clan, older than the building itself—there was now only a crooked porch with broken stone and a small, warped wooden door. For a second she just stared at the door, and an image briefly overlaid it. A woman with short blond hair and a wide smile, holding up a badge while making a V for victory.

"I mean, it fits, if nothing else?" Myst said. She glanced at him, and he cringed for some reason.

"Okay, maybe it does look a little like it might fall down on our heads," he admitted.

"But don't you think that's just the outside? I mean, this is a Gym, right? It's not like they aren't regulated or anything." Cynthia turned back to the building.

"You're right, considering how heavily gyms are inspected, it should be mostly cosmetic." She tightened her grip, her lips pressing into a thin line.

"It's just… this Gym used to be Psychic-type one. And even though it changed hands around the time I was born, I thought they might keep more of the aesthetic. Like…" She trailed off, hesitating.

"Never mind. It doesn't really matter." She pulled her hand out of her jacket, letting go of her Pokedex. Damn. At Myst's side Navi gave her an unsure look, but before she could say anything Cynthia was already moving.

"Let's just register first." She said, quickly reaching the door, opening it, and walking inside. It still resembled a haunted mansion, but compared to the outside things were noticeably better. Everything looked worn and old, but the chandelier hanging from the ceiling still glowed warmly, and the thick bearing pillars looked rock solid. Cynthia glanced around quickly, taking in the room as she searched for the reception desk. Myst tugged lightly at her arm.

"Pretty sure that's it," he said, pointing behind them. Cynthia turned and spotted a small desk tucked into the far corner of the room. Behind it sat a young woman who looked about Johanna's age with long purple hair. She was staring down at a magazine, looking bored out of her mind as she languidly flipped through the pages. Even as they stepped up to the desk, the girl didn't look up. Not feeling like waiting, Cynthia gave a small, pointed cough.

The young woman didn't so much as flinch, continuing to turn the pages as if they weren't there. Cynthia felt her already-fragile mood sour further. Seriously, what is with today?

"Sorry, but we would like to—" she began, impatience slipping into her tone, only to cut herself off when the young woman suddenly jerked. Her head snapped up toward them as she tried to stand—only to slam her knee straight into the desk. Instantly her eyes bugged out, and she grabbed at her knee, hopping in pain, only to tangle her own feet and begin tipping face-first toward the desk, her hands still half-trapped as she tried to cradle the injury. … What?

Cynthia felt her mouth fall open as she stared at the incoming disaster, but before the young woman could complete the faceplant, Myst moved. He slammed one arm onto the desk and leaned forward, barely catching her shoulder before her face could meet the wood. A beat passed in silence as time seemed to freeze, and Cynthia stared as Myst desperately tried to hold up the full weight of the receptionist with one arm, clearly stuck in the awkward position with no real way to get out of it. He gritted his teeth.

"Some help?" Cynthia blinked.

"Oh, right." She almost reached for him, just to remember that she didn't actually need, and instead glanced at Navi.

"Could you?" Navi stared back at her with wide eyes, and widened them even further at her words. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Myst! Instantly, purple energy flared around Myst and the young woman, lifting them off the desk and setting them back on their feet before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. Myst let out a breath as his feet touched the ground again, rubbing the arm he had used to hold her up.

"Thanks Navi." On the other side of the desk, the receptionist stared at them, her face almost tomato red.

"Ah—pardon, eh…" She hesitated, her eyes darting back and forth as if searching for the right words. Myst smiled reassuringly as he released his arm.

"No problem. Just be more careful next time." The young woman lowered her head slightly, still flushed.

"I…" She paused, mumbled something fast under her breath in frustration, before collecting herself and trying again.

"I… not very good at… speak. I from Kalos. Small place. Only speak Kalosian. Still learning." She smiled at them.

"But thank you." Cynthia blinked in surprise. Her only native language was Kalosian? That was… rare. Most regions spoke a common language, with only minor dialect differences. That didn't mean others didn't exist, of course—just that they were far less common in everyday use. Kalos, in particular, was known for preserving its native tongue, which meant it had by far the highest number of bilingual speakers.

In some areas, like where the receptionist apparently came from, Kalosian was even spoken almost exclusively, to the point that calling the locals bilingual was more technical than practical. Not that it was the only region with its own language. Even Sinnoh had once had one. It just… wasn't really comparable. Kalosian was still very much alive. The old language of Sinnoh? Cynthia was pretty sure she knew every person who spoke it.

Still, not wanting to make the receptionist uncomfortable, she quickly smoothed the surprise from her expression and deliberately slowed her speech before replying.

"No problem. We are here to register for gym challenge. Is this the right place?" She asked. The receptionist nodded.

"Oui…" A beat passed.

"Yes." The receptionist let out a small groan and, looking like she was done with everything, opened a drawer. She pulled out a logbook and placed it on the desk. Then, flipping it open, she rapidly turned through the pages until she stopped.

"You both want battle?" she asked. Cynthia nodded. Rapidly the receptionist trailed her hand through the book, before flipping over the page and stopping somewhere near the top. She looked up.

"Tuesday good?" Cynthia smiled hopefully.

"Tomorrow?" The receptionist shook her head.

"Non. Next Tuesday. We have two places. Twelve and two." Cynthia stared at the receptionist. The receptionist stared back.

"There's really nothing earlier?" Cynthia tried again.

"You couldn't ask the Gym Leader to squeeze us in between two battles?"

"Non. If come yesterday, many spots. But many register yesterday." Cynthia let out a sigh.

"Okay then. Let's go with that then, unless you have any other opinion Myst?" She glanced at him, only to stop. Myst didn't even seem to realize she had said anything. Instead, he was staring at the receptionist like she was the most fascinating thing in the world. Instantly, irritation once again prickled under Cynthia's skin, and without hesitation she jabbed her elbow lightly into his side. Myst blinked and shot her a confused look.

"Huh?" She narrowed her eyes slightly. He tilted his head, and with the motion, his long black hair slipped to the side, framing his face in a way that made him look almost innocent—especially with those blue eyes.

"Sorry, I was kind of thinking." He said, giving her a smile. What. Ever. She turned away from him, dug into her jacket pocket for her circuit ID card, and handed it over without another word.

"Here, my ID for registration." The receptionist took it, gave her an annoyingly knowing smile, then looked down at the ID and began copying the information into the logbook. Myst made a small sound, like he thought he had just figured out what she meant.

"Oh yeah—my ID." He fumbled through the pockets of his pants, then pulled it out and placed it on the desk.

"Here." The receptionist nodded absentmindedly, handed Cynthia back her ID, then glanced down at Myst's. She blinked.

"Myst… Terri?" She looked up at him.

"You are Myst Terri?" Myst just grinned back at her.

"Anything wrong?" The receptionist stared at him for a couple of seconds before speaking.

"Tu viens de Kalos? Terri… ça sonne comme un nom Kalosien. Je connais quelqu'un qui s'appelle Terri." Myst shook his head.

"Nope, not from Kalos, at least my name has nothing to do with that. I made it up about two months ago, so unless I somehow accidentally landed on my real one, I doubt I'd be related to any Terri you knew back in Kalos." His smile grew slightly wider, "Still, you got to admit it's pretty cool, right."" The receptionist blinked at his answer and instantly shot Cynthia a look. Cynthia didn't see it. She was too busy staring at Myst, feeling a little like somebody had just exploded her brain. …What?

"You understood her?" Myst glanced at her, then at the receptionist, then back at her. He pursed his lips.

"Ehm… yeah? At first she struggled a little, but her last sentences were basically perfect, no?"

"…Myst, she just spoke Kalosian." Myst blinked.

"What?"

"She. Just. Spoke. In. Kalosian." Cynthia said, emphasizing every word as if she could somehow force the meaning through to him.

"Oh." A couple of seconds passed in complete silence. Then, before the silence could stretch long enough to become audible, the receptionist let out a small cough. At the sound, Cynthia snapped around. The receptionist smiled slightly and handed over Myst's ID. Myst took it absentmindedly, pocketed it, and slowly opened his mouth, probably to thank her. He never got the chance.

Before he could get a single word out, Cynthia grabbed his arm, gave the receptionist a quick thank you in his place, and dragged him straight out of the building. … Originally, she had planned to spend the day simply relaxing. Walking around, maybe convincing Myst to buy some new clothes, but mostly she just wanted to explore the city. After all, Hearthome wasn't just Sinnoh's second-largest city—it was also known as the heart of Sinnoh.

It was the city with the most tourism, the city with the most things to do, and perhaps most importantly, it was world-renowned for its ice cream. She paced back and forth. Obviously, that was no longer the plan. Myst knew Kalosian, knew it in a way where he didn't even realize the receptionist had switched language. And that… that made no sense. Cynthia wasn't about to claim she had figured Myst out or where he came from. That would be a flat-out lie.

At the same time, she had honestly believed she had formed a pretty good guess. Tsareena had a Hidden Ability, and she had ended up trying to build an entirely unique Pokémon society. Around the same time Myst had appeared, several other Pokémon with Hidden Abilities had seemingly appeared as well. Then there was Myst himself. The way he struggled with how to treat Pokémon. The way he seemed to have no real concept of how they normally functioned alongside trainers and humans.

If it hadn't been for the fact that his knowledge was simply absurd—Pokémon, moves, legends—she might have assumed he came from somewhere without Pokémon at all. Still, in the end, it all boiled down to her guess: He came from some kind of hidden Pokémon society, a place where Pokémon had little to no contact with humans. After all, somewhere like that could easily explain his knowledge of Pokémon.

It wouldn't even be too far-fetched if such a place had connections to Legendary Pokémon, which might explain how he knew so much about legends. It had never been a perfect explanation, of course. It still didn't explain things like how Myst had no idea what Aura was. But some part of her had still felt like the theory worked. But him knowing Kalosian… How the hell could he know Kalosian? Was this place in Kalos then, and he had learned the language alongside his main one for some reason? It just… didn't fit.

She stopped her pacing and bit her lip. Or no—that wasn't quite right. It could fit, but at that point almost anything could. It all circled back to the same problem: it felt like any explanation might work. This was new information, sure, but without anything else to support it, it was still just conjecture. Maybe he came from a clan in Kalos that still spoke Old Kalosian. Maybe they were even guardians of some hidden Pokémon society.

Or maybe he came from somewhere else entirely, and his mother had simply spoken Kalosian. After all, the whole Pokémon society theory was only a guess to begin with—something she had pieced together because the facts seemed to line up.

"Done now?" Myst asked. Cynthia snapped over to him. Myst raised an eyebrow, lifting one hand before spinning a finger in a lazy circle.

"You've been walking around this table for the last thirty minutes. And if I know you, it's because you're trying to figure out where I come from or something. You think me knowing Kalosian is some new clue, and that you're just one step away from figuring something out…" He leaned onto his other hand, leaning down on it as he let the first drop.

"Kind of like the time I mentioned Pokémon from Galar, or the time I talked about Pokémon from Hisui, or the time—" Cynthia flushed.

"It's not the same," she protested.

"That was all information about Pokémon. You could technically pick that up anywhere. But you don't just learn an entire language because someone told you how. That takes time." Myst let out a sigh.

"It does, but I don't seem to remember how to speak it properly. To understand it, but not speak it, that makes it more likely it's something I picked up by osmosis somehow. Maybe I'm from somewhere in Kalos. Maybe I had a family member who spoke it when I was young." He shrugged slightly.

"My point is… honestly, who knows why? For all we know, maybe Flint is right and it's part of some knowledge package from Uxie or something." Cynthia pouted.

"But it could be important." Myst leveled her a look, seemingly done with the conversation as he reached for his backpack. She held his gaze for a second before looking away, defeated.

"Fine." Did it even matter, really? It was just a theory after all. Just a-- Myst let out a small laugh. Cynthia instantly snapped around and feeling frustration bubbling under her skin, she glared at him.

"Okay, fine, maybe we don't need to talk about that," she said.

"But how about the way you were looking at the receptionist?" Myst cut off his laugh, his hands stopping in the middle of handing out Oran Berries to his Pokémon just to give her a confused look. Or, well—he tried to. His hands froze halfway through the motion, but Rei, Navi, and Swadloon had already grabbed one each. The moment they did, all three of them took a step back and began nibbling like they were settling in with popcorn.

"…What?" Cynthia opened her mouth, about to spring a whole tirade one him, just to slam it shut at the last second. Mostly because it was just so stupid. She wasn't even mad, not really. It was just— She had just wanted him to— She took a deep breath, and shook her head.

"Sorry, that was stupid." Myst blinked.

"Were you… jealous?" Cynthia felt her face heat up slightly.

"No. It's just—even the girl noticed the way you were staring, you know. I just…" She trailed off, not even sure where she had been going with that. Myst stared at her like she was some completely new creature, his lips twitching as if he were desperately trying not to smile.

"It wasn't about her," he said.

"I was just surprised by how she sounded. I didn't even know other languages existed. At first I was trying to figure out if she had some completely insane accent… or if it was some kind of Ghost-themed language the Gym forced onto the staff." He waved a hand vaguely forward, "I mean, I wasn't even really staring at her, and more in her direction." Cynthia didn't bother replying. Instead she walked over to the table, ignored the way Myst's team all followed her movement with their heads, and sat down.

Then she slammed her head into the table. Today. Today had freaking sucked.

"…How about we get some ice cream. I'll pay," Myst offered. Sucked so far, she corrected internally, before pushing herself up again.

"I want three scoops," she said. Myst raised an eyebrow, then smiled at her slyly.

"Hmm, I don't know about that. I was thinking more like one. I mean—" Cynthia didn't bother negotiating. She stepped over, rose onto her toes, and kissed his cheek.

"Three." Then she grabbed his arm and dragged him along. … Honestly, some part of her had completely forgotten that William had told them to go to the Ranger Office. She'd remembered at the start of the day, of course, but while relaying their statement was important, it hadn't felt nearly as urgent as registering for the Gym battle. So she'd planned to stop by afterward, then spend the rest of the day exploring.

Really, who could blame her for not anticipating that Myst would suddenly reveal he knew Kalosian and end up sidetracking everything? Blame her for forgetting the time as she and Myst explored the city? Blame her for not stopping when they spent two hours wandering the local Pokémart, browsing training equipment neither of them could afford? She crossed her arms over her chest and gave a small, decisive nod. Nobody, that's who.

"So what did you say the reason for your delay was again?" the ranger asked.

"I'm not blaming you for not coming to the office yesterday, considering how late you arrived, but William did say it was pressing that you talk to us at the first opportunity, right?" Not that she was going to say any of that right now. Cynthia quickly uncrossed her hands, looked up at the ranger and tried to force a smile onto her lips.

"Sorry, it was unavoidable. We were going to come here first, but—" She stopped talking as the soft feeling of something connecting snapped into place.

"But…" the ranger promoted. We should probably get our stories straight. Myst's voice rang out. Cynthia stared blankly at the ranger for a second before blinking.

"Uh…" If anyone asks why we were late, we had to check if your egg was okay, she quickly sent across the link. Then she refocused.

"Sorry, just blanked there for a moment." Wait, actually, shouldn't we check that out? Myst sent back almost instantly.

"But yeah, we were going to come straight here, but Myst—the boy I came with—has an egg that needed to be checked by a specialist, so we had to do that first." The ranger nodded slowly.

"I see. Well, good call in that case. Eggs aren't exactly something you could call fragile, but considering they grow by absorbing Aura who knows what something like the Grass Kingdom might do to it." Cynthia smiled and nodded.

"Right." We definitely should, she sent back. The ranger glanced down at the paper in his hands, then back at her.

"Anyway, most of the questions I have are just routine. We've talked to almost everyone involved already, so it shouldn't take too long." He paused.

"First off, from what we can gather, it sounds like you were involved in the meeting with Captain Graham, right?" Cynthia nodded.

"Well, could you tell me a little bit about that? Specifically, anything you remember about how he assessed the threat would be helpful." Cynthia tilted her head, trying to think back.

"Well, I do think he might have been a little overconfident," she began slowly.

"Specifically, his confidence in knowing exactly which relic caused everything felt a little strange. But honestly, the thing that made the biggest impression was probably either the way he talked to William, or the fact that he allowed us to join in at all." She paused for a moment, looking down at the table.

"I mean, in hindsight we were technically civilians, weren't we? If I remember correctly, it's not like rangers can't recruit civilian trainers, but I'm honestly not sure if the situation really qualified. It's not like the Grass Kingdom was going to cause massive casualties after all. It felt natural at the time, but…" She stopped, licking her lips. Well, she wasn't the type to lie to herself, so she wouldn't say that she regretted it.

After all, sure, she had vented to Myst about how it felt like every situation they found themselves in turned into something they weren't equipped to handle, but in the end she had chosen to go in. Chosen to join the fight against Tsareena. It was stupid in hindsight, and she was definitely not going to join another ranger operation before she had at least, at an absolute minimum, six badges… But she didn't regret it either.

If the operation had gone ahead without them, it was doubtful that Johanna would have joined. And hell, even if she had, without Myst realizing just how dangerous things were going to be there was a good chance that instead of no casualties, there would have been dozens. They might not have made a difference in the battle against Tsareena, but they had made a difference. She shook her head.

"No, that's all. Honestly, everything else is just hindsight."

"That's okay, everything is useful information. Still, you mentioned the way he talked to William. Just for the record, William here is William Twinleaf, correct?" the ranger continued. Cynthia nodded instinctively.

"Yes." She replied.

"Well, can you tell me a little bit about that too?" Cynthia shrugged.

"Not much to say. William was the ranger who was by far the most against us being involved. He even threatened to leave, but… well, the Captain basically told him that if he didn't follow orders, he wouldn't have his job anymore, I think." The ranger hummed slightly.

"Interesting. Well, is there anything else you want to add to that meeting? Anything that stood out?"

"No." The ranger nodded at that.

"That's fine. We can move onto the second part then, the battle against Tsareena and the Royal Guard." The ranger continued casually, glancing down at his notes.

"I came to understand that the person who identified them all, that was your friend. This Myst… Terri?" Cynthia paused at those words. Nothing about what he said was wrong, or even that suspicious. But it made her remember what else Myst said back then. What have you talked about? She snapped over the link. Not much, just the meeting with the captain so far. Myst replied. She smiled at the ranger.

"That's right." Then you identified the Royal Guard and Tsareena, and I the relic, okay? A vague pulse of acknowledgment was her only response. The ranger's poker face didn't so much as twitch as he hummed softly.

"Interesting. I have to say, your friend knows about some rare Pokémon. Do you know where he learned about them?" Cynthia shook her head. And if they don't ask, don't mention your amnesia. She added.

"No," she said, "but I don't see how that's relevant."

"It isn't. Just personal curiosity," he replied before continuing.

"But moving on—from what I understand, you and your partner were the reason the civilian trainers retreated when they did, correct?"

"Yes."

"And why did you do that? From the reports, it doesn't sound like you were running away in a panic, but rather organizing a retreat. You did say that, in hindsight, your participation might not have been optimal, but that's not really a reason to act like this in the middle of a battle—especially when, by all accounts, most people thought you were winning at that point." Cynthia forced herself not to stiffen. The question itself wasn't anything special. Even so, she had feeling it all had probably lead up to this.

That the whole reason both she and Myst had been called down to the ranger office was probably because of this exact question. After all, as she had told Myst when they first met, information about Legendaries was restricted. Only a very small number of people were permitted to possess that knowledge.

And while information about relics seemed to be treated somewhat differently—not so secret that it couldn't be mentioned the way the location of a Legendary or the method of summoning one could—it was only less restricted under normal circumstances. Only less restricted when it came to regular Legends. There was nothing regular about when talking about a relic of God. And so, instead of trying anything complicated, Cynthia simply leveled him with a flat look.

"Do you know who I am?" The ranger raised an eyebrow.

"Cynthia Shirona, right? Heir to the Shirona Clan and the granddaughter of Head Professor Carolina." She nodded.

"Right. And considering you know that, I'll give you exactly one guess as to why, after I realized what relic we were dealing with, I wanted everyone to retreat." He gave her a nonplussed look.

"So you're telling me you recognized it then? A relic of…" He paused, as if he couldn't quite believe the words.

"A relic of Arceus." She let the look drop, sighed, and then opened her mouth— Just to lie through her teeth.

"Honestly? I can't say I was sure. It matched a lot of what I knew about the Meadow Plate, but at the same time… even if my grandma was the one who told me about it, it's still too mythical, you know? Stumbling across one of the plates of Arceus feels like something that happens in a children's story." She shook her head, "Still, all I knew was that the moment it even became a possibility, I realized things were far too dangerous.

Even if there was only a one percent chance I was right, that's enough for everyone there to instantly die. But yeah, you could tell me the relic is something completely different, and I'd believe you." She locked eyes with him.

"Still, even if I was wrong about the relic, I wasn't wrong about the decision, was I? In the end, the captain couldn't handle Tsareena. The fact that everything turned out as well as it did—it was partly luck. If Scovillain hadn't saved us, we'd probably all be dead." She clenched her fists"But—it was also because we got everyone out. Because there weren't thirty trainers there to get hit by a stray attack." She dared him to disagree. He didn't.

Instead the ranger instantly raised both hands, as if sensing the shift in her mood.

"Hey, hey, we aren't accusing you of anything. No matter what happens, none of the civilians are in any trouble. In fact, for helping, you're entitled to a reward—compensation for your actions." Cynthia paused. Blinked. Then felt her eyes widen. Wait, they were entitled to what now?

"Reward money?" she asked slowly.

"How much?" Entitled to what? Myst's voice suddenly appeared. Money. And that wasn't meant for you, she answered quickly. The ranger smiled, dropping his hands again.

"Well, it depends. But considering your role, you can expect a sizable sum. Not as much as the trainers who directly handled a Royal Guard, but not too much less either. In other words, let's just say it's unlikely you'll have problems with money for a couple of months." Cynthia opened her mouth to ask some more questions, but before she could ask for more details the ranger waved her off.

"Before we get into the how of that though, let's wrap this up first, okay? I only have one last question." Cynthia stared at him, then slowly closed her mouth.

"Yeah… okay." The ranger gave her a small smile.

"Nothing dramatic, all I want to know is if you have anything else you want to tell me. Anything that you think I should have asked about, or anything you think is interesting." Cynthia looked at the ranger. A dozen options flashed through her mind. Hidden Abilities. The Grass Kingdom's likely connection to the Underground. The society-like structure Tsareena had created. And maybe she should trust him with it. The rangers with it. But for some reason… In the end, only one thing left her mouth.

"No."