09 | POKER FACE

The pale moon cast gentle rays of light onto White Lightning's deck, masking the ship in different shades of blue. Aquamarine, turquoise, lapis, sapphire. None of these seemed quite as blue as a certain pirate felt.

August held onto Gracie and gazed at the stars, unable to sleep. She refused to leave the deck no matter how much the frost-laced gusts chilled her to the bone. Instead, she hugged Gracie tighter to her chest.

The guilt of sending the Zoroark's Deceit's sailing paths to Patel ate away at her conscience. If Calico didn't have enough reason to kill August before, she did now. The idea nauseated August, spinning her head and twisting her gut. Karma would come for her.

She hated this. She hated feeling helpless. She hated how Calico needn't be present to revert her back into a sniveling eleven-year-old. She hated Calico, she swore she did. Calico ruined her life!

August's thoughts stumbled, and she repeated silently, Calico ruined my life. She pursed her lips. Not... not me. Calico. And Father. And Shannon.

They ruined her life because they dictated it. They were the ones who set guarded barriers around her. They were the reason she never felt like she truly belonged anywhere.

No amount of Wes' nor Vespiquen's could mend their blows.

August sighed and watched the white puff from her lips drift away. Emotions weakened a man; she'd seen it time and time again aboard the Zoroark's Deceit. They were what murdered Wes and drove Calico to madness.

She focused on the midnight sky, finding solace in the twinkling stars' presence. When she was younger, she would climb out of her window to stargaze with Vespiquen. Now she had Gracie who was fast asleep in her lap. August grimaced; it wasn't the same.

⚔️

The company reached Ashwind Town the following morning. Omar requested that August wait nearby as he helped his family settle into his step-uncle's home, swearing he'd sail her anywhere she'd like afterward. She agreed, not like she had much choice, and hunted down the closest tavern to forget the night before.

August's brows raised; there were already other people occupying the cramped establishment. She'd expected it to be empty akin to Tranquelum. A dozen men—shipbuilders, she figured—paused what they were doing to look at her and Cyryl. August nodded, and they returned to their businesses.

Sensing Cyryl cowering behind her, August said, "Pay them no attention. You'll cause trouble acting weird."

Cyryl's voice hushed to a whisper, "That may be so, but you were fortunate enough not to be born a magician."

"Start acting normal an' they won't be able to tell." She shoved zir off her side. "Stay off o' me, brat."

August ordered three drinks from the tavern-keeper then led Cyryl to a secluded table in a dim corner. She downed her first tankard in one go with her eyes squeezed shut. Honchkrow's silhouette against the full moon appeared. Her teeth gnashed together. Why did the world insist on invading her thoughts?

"Listen, I've read studies about the effects of alcoholism. This drink is toxic, to put it bluntly. Once you become addicted to it, it ruins your life as your body—"

"I think it's time you shut up an' take the pint."

August shoved a tankard at Cyryl, sloshing half the rum onto the floor. She grumbled about how the apprentice wasted it and returned to her second drink. To her annoyance, she wasn't drunk yet. Not even buzzed. She still remembered everything that happened in the past 24 hours as clear as day.

Her mind drifted back to Calico. August had sworn allegiance to the Zoroark's Deceit for over ten years and ruined it all in less than ten days. She might as well have handed Risk to Patel and stepped aside so he could execute her old crew in one fell swoop. The mental image of corpses littering the ship's deck as Patel set it ablaze sickened her stomach.

Seeing Cyryl sniffing the rum as if it were Grimer's feces worsened her already foul mood. She snatched it from zir, snapping, "Why're you here if you don't want to drink?"

"I thought it'd be best if I stayed with my mentor," zie explained. Cyryl twirled the rings on zir bandaged fingers and asked, "May I ask you a question about last night?"

The rum's biting flavor soured at once, going from comforting to disgusting in the blink of an eye. August stopped her drinking and scowled.

She said, "No. It's my business alone."

Cyryl shuffled awkwardly and went back to feeding zir Pidgey crackers. Zir energy exhausted August. In a way, zie reminded her of Gracie. Both of them were young, loud, and outlandish. Unlike the Shaymin, however, Cyryl had no need to sleep for hours on end to grow. Zie talked and talked and talked with no signs of stopping.

Unable to stay idle for long, Cyryl spoke again. "How about this? Do you have any sort of questions for me? It could be about anything."

Can you be quiet? August yearned to snark. Instead, she racked her brain for the hundreds of grievances she held against the blonde then prompted, "Why isn't your Pokémon evolved?"

Pidge's head cocked, recognizing that her jab was directed at him.

"I've never had the time to assist Pidge with his endeavors to evolve into a Pidgeotto. My family's business did brilliant job of keeping me occupied, that's the truth. But after the incident last night concerning you-know-what, my priorities have shifted; the time has come for Pidge to evolve," zie answered.

"Why do you talk a whole lot o' nothing?" August cut off Cyryl's answer to her complaint, continuing, "So you're saying both you an' your Pidgey can't fight. What good are you?"

Sparing a wary glance at the other tavern-goers, Cyryl decided it was safe enough to whisper, "I'm a seasoned magician, I'll have you know. I was quite the prodigy in Waywyn."

Curiosity lifted August's gaze. "What type?"

"Normal." Cyryl grinned, glad that August's intense glare softened into a childish gawk at zir revelation. "I can utilize all of the Normal-type spells: Celeri, Duro, and Duplex Dolor."

"Which are...?"

"Swift, Razor Wind, and Double Team."

"I like that spell-set."

August bounced her leg. Double Team was a trick to be reckoned with. Her imagination thought up only a fraction of what sort of troubles she could achieve with the spell under her belt.

She questioned, "What makes you such a good magician?"

"See, magicians are born with the ability to manipulate elements with our spells, but we must train for numerous years to master our craft. Unlike the vast majority, however, I was a natural talent and learned my spells swiftly and proficiently." Cyryl interrupted zirself as zie quickly backtracked and stammered with rosy cheeks, "I'm no master magician or anything of that sort, of course. I'm far from it, but I try my best."

An idea popped into August's brain. "We'll see how good your best is," she decided, mischief gleaming in her eyes. "I have a task fo' you."

The magician perked up, eager to please. "What is it?"

"You see them?" She gestured to the shipbuilders meeting at the opposite side of the tavern. Three of them sat together with impassive faces and steady hands. Atop their table was a pile of worn playing cards and stacks of brass tokens.

"They're playing a card game together," Cyryl said, furrowing zir brows. "Poker, I assume, based on what I can see. I've played it before."

"Aye." August's lips twisted into a smirk. "This here will be your first test: you're going to challenge 'em an' win me a decent pot."

She could see the gears spinning in Cyryl's head as zie estimated the danger of the situation. Zie exchanged a glance with Pidge then nodded.

"Alright, fine," zie agreed, the confidence in zir voice betraying the nervousness in zir eyes, "I'll compete in some old-fashioned gambling."

Cyryl stood up, causing zir stool to scrape the floor. Zie took one step before zie was yanked back down by a scoffing August.

"Smart, my ass. You can't win against those shipbuilders fairly. When they're sailing, card games is all that keeps 'em company," she said.

Cyryl's eyes widened. "Are you imploring that I cheat?"

August wasn't sure what 'imploring' meant, but she replied, "I'm imploring that you win." She added quietly, "You have a talent crooks would kill for. Use it."

Sweat gathered on the magician's brow-bone. Zie tugged at zir collar and croaked, "Those men will throttle me if they find out."

"Didn't you say you wanted an adventure? Get on with it."

Cyryl gulped. "I-I suppose I did. Please prevent anyone from seeing what I'm about to do."

August casually shielded Cyryl as zie lowered zir head onto the table, blocking zir from any wandering eyes. Gasping, Cyryl began spasming as if zie were suffering from a seizure with violent jolts and lurches. Their table trembled, nearly knocking off their half-filled drinks.

Seconds akin to hours passed, and Cyryl's shaking ceased. Zie slowly lifted zir head, revealing zir cat-like pupils which had thinned down into narrow streaks of black. A shining crystal emerged from Cyryl's forehead, tinted red and round in shape. Whiskers rested on either cheek, just as feline as the tufted ears poking out from beneath zir ash blonde tresses.

"I've never seen a Normal-magician's true form," August muttered, careful not to seem too awestruck.

Zie smiled, displaying zir sharpened teeth. "We really do resemble Persian, do we not?" Cyryl put on a scarf and eyeglasses zie kept in zir waist pouch then adjusted zir hood. In combination with the tavern's poor lighting, one could barely make out zir alien features. "Duplex Dolor."

The air surrounding Cyryl rippled. Starting from the bottom up, the doppelgänger materialized out of swirling, multi-colored particles flowing from the magician's fingertips. In the span of a few heartbeats, a whole other Cyryl crouched beside zir.

"I can travel between both forms, as long as they can see each other," Cyryl explained.

Zir clone continued, "But if my double receives too much damage, it will dissipate and I'll be transferred back to my own body."

August nodded. "Aye. Now get to work."

She watched the clones split with the original Cyryl and Pidge joining the poker table and zir clone staying back. The duplicate slunk against the wall, going unnoticed by the other tavern-goers. Zie positioned zirself behind Cyryl's opponents and waited to peek at their cards.

The shipbuilders were hesitant to allow Cyryl to join, wary of zir cloaked attire covering most of zir face. Zie had to dump half zir incos on the table with ringing clinks to convince them otherwise. August knew zie was trying to play cool, but zir stiff form and fidgety movements gave zir away.

They'll know you're up to something, she thought. Steady yourself, brat.

"I think Cyryl will win it all," Gracie piped up, dropping eaves on August's musings.

The pirate folded her arms across her chest. You have too much faith in people.

"Because I like people." The Shaymin poked her head out of the bag resting on Cyryl's empty chair. "Hey, hey, August."

Stay in there!

The Pokémon pouted. "But it's not comfy! The rock hurts my belly when I lay on it."

August arched a brow, knowing perfectly well she didn't carry rocks on her. She reached into her bag and felt around for the stone. Her fingertips brushed a cold, metallic disc-shaped object. She latched onto it and hoisted the mysterious item—it was a compass. Tuyen's compass, to be exact.

Holding it close to inspect it, she learned the golden nautical device had a floral pattern carved into it. It was heavier than a normal compass, too. She spared a glance at Cyryl to check if everything was alright then opened it.

You've got to be kidding me, she thought.

Instead of displaying a normal compass rose with north, east, south, and west, Tuyen's compass had three points in the shape of a triangle. Each mark resembled a Gracidea, varying slightly from design to design. The eastern Gracidea was green, the northern one blue, and the western red.

Do you know what this is? August asked Gracie, holding the compass out to her. Why ain't the needle pointing north?

Gracie's head tilted. "I don't know. What is that?"

August wondered how it escaped her mind that the Pokémon was less than a month old. It's a compass. A broken one, at that. These tell you how to get to places.

A chorus of groans broke their conversation. August turned to see Cyryl smiling as zie swept a large sum of tokens to zir end of the table. The clone remained undiscovered. August found herself grinning as well, thinking about how she was going to take half of her apprentice's earnings.

"Beginner's luck," one of the men grumbled.

Cyryl covered zir laugh with a cough. "How about another round, my fine gentlemen?"

August sighed in relief, glad the magician had shaken off zir nerves. Perhaps zie was useful, after all.

"Let's use it," Gracie suggested, readjusting the pirate's focus. She wobbled onto her hind-legs with her nose twitching. "It smells good. Open it, open it!"

It is opened.

"Nuh-uh. I smell something inside of it."

August sniffed the device. I don't smell anything.

"Eh? Your nose is bigger than mine."

Gracie squeaked, narrowly dodging August's annoyed swat.

What does it smell like?

The Shaymin inhaled deeply and tasted the roof of her mouth. "It smells like... It smells like..." She jumped in excitement. "It smells like a Gracidea!"

August's motivation to pry open the device increased tenfold. She scraped her nail against the metal, searching for a latch. There was none.

It won't open anymore, she told Gracie. It's as open as it gets.

"Follow it," the Shaymin encouraged. "Maybe there's Gracideas or other Shaymin there!"

August stared at the compass. The possibility of the device leading to the rare flowers or Pokémon was high. Gracie's claims heightened it even moreso. Jewels and riches danced before the pirate's vision. Excitement burst in her heart as she imagined how much she could sell a bushel of Gracideas for.

Aye, we have our heading, August agreed, a smile lifting her features.

She scratched Gracie's chin then grabbed her tankard and got up to swagger to Cyryl's table. Her apprentice's winnings more than doubled zir opponents'. August chuckled at the sight, dropping her defenses for but a moment to relish in how much her luck had turned around in less than a few hours.

"Raise the stakes," she said, pushing half of Cyryl's tokens into the center.

Zie gasped. "That's quite a lot, don't you think?"

"Life's too short to live safely." August raised her drink and shouted, "Salute!"

⚔️

A lone Pokémon poised atop a flat rock, bathing in the sunlight's warm glow. She enjoyed the heat seeping into her feathers as she stretched her wingspan to its fullest. Her posture exposed the earthy tribal markings painted into her lime-colored down. Still, the oddest part about her was the eyepatch resting on her face.

"Morningstar, have you completed your meditation?"

Morningstar lowered her wings and faced the speaker. Her master—an angelic man with brilliant turquoise eyes donning a snow-white cloak—offered her a calm smile. She nodded.

Her master's musical voice matched his lovely appearance as he continued, "I am delighted to hear so." He turned away, hiding whatever he carried. "While you were occupied, my love, I accepted a quest. A frightened couple is rewarding two hundred incos for the return of their precious child."

Another gust blew by, stirring her master's platinum hairs. They shone silver in the sunlight.

"Morningstar, I was not the first one to hear of their troubles," he continued, "I was far from it. Earlier, a bounty hunter swore he'd become the couple's savior and rescue their child."

The Pokémon slowly began to waddle closer to him, wanting to see what he was holding. She had an inkling of what it was already by his sickly sweet tone.

"They gifted this bounty hunter valuable information they dared not to share with others. The parents claimed they needed but one hero as they could not afford to pay for two."

Morningstar reached her master's frontside. He was busy by cleaning his scarlet-dripping weapon—an onyx trident—with a teal cloth. Bloody streaks and splatters stained his tunic and trousers, yet they never touched his prized white cloak.

The Pokémon's blank stare never wavered. This sight was nothing new.

"I extracted the information from the bounty hunter," he said, his expression as serene as ever, "and laid his passionate soul to rest."

Her suspicions had been correct.

Her master went on, "I learned this: last week when the child, Cyryl, was working, two strangers entered the shop. One was an innocent customer named Freja, and the other was the kidnapper. The kidnapper violently attacked Freja out of malice and then found Cyryl. Zie forced Cyryl to give zir all the family's riches then abducted zir. It is an unfortunate matter, is it not, my love?"

She uttered a low, "Tu."

He fell silent at her command. Morningstar closed her eyes and concentrated, training all her thoughts on her master. The world warped around her as her psychic energy distorted reality. No longer was she standing in the center of the plains, but now she was lodged in cosmic space.

Glimpses of distant futures and long-forgotten pasts whirled past her, trapping her in a vortex of blurred images and drowned voices. The glittering visions began to quickly overwhelm her, causing her to quake and moan in pain. Still, she refused to break her focus. What she was seeking was close, she felt it...

Her eyes snapped open.

"Xa."

Morningstar's feathers ruffled. She knew exactly what they had to do. The Pokémon always did, thanks to her powers. Unlike the routes she'd envisioned in years past, however, this one held an unseemly ending. Determination swelled within her—she would change fate in her favor.

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⚔️ ART ⚔️

This breathtaking piece of August and Gracie was created by kimcgray95.