14 | WATERWORKS

To pass the remaining travel time, August convinced Omar to sit in on Cyryl's training sessions to brush up on his fighting knowledge. It led to his idea that Nuri and Marley should teach Pidge how to battle, causing a whirlwind of trouble as the simple-minded bird decided training time was all the time. It grew common to hear pained squawks as Omar's Pokémon struck him out of the air.

Slowly but surely, underlying tension ebbed away as the days drifted by. A new sense of camaraderie bound the crew together in a pact to complete their quest.

White Lightning finally reached Verelum on a cloudy, humid morning. Pidge and Marley tried to clear the damp fog hanging in the air to make docking easier, but the milky veils refused to budge. There was something unnatural about the stagnant mist that unnerved them.

As they walked inland, they found Verelum to be the polar opposite of Rubrelum. Perfectly symmetric buildings with sloped roofs stood atop well-built stilts as rivers rushed below them. Colorful boats resembling powerful Gyarados and elegant Milotic traveled through the water bodies, carrying loads of goods and passengers. The town buzzed with life.

To blend in with the natives, Omar purchased the three their own floral-printed outfits. However, August still attracted wary gazes as she refused to leave Risk behind; she'd learned her lesson from years before. Nuri and Marley stayed, though, to keep an eye on White Lightning.

August was on high alert as they headed to the boat boarding pavillion, aware of the town guards stationed at all the street corners. They were unmistakable with their leather shell armor and ornate helmets. Pokémon such as Granbull and Crawdaunt stood at attention beside them. More guards than she liked scrutinized her movements, their interests caught by her cutlass.

I hate it here, August thought, her nerves on edge. She dreaded how severe the capital's security would be; rumors had it there were three guards per one citizen there.

"Me too," Gracie agreed. "I hate everywhere where I have to be in this stinky bag."

August breathed a laugh through her nose. The more Gracie matured, the more amusing she became.

The line for the ferry rides stretched from the pavilion's steps to all the way down the town's main street. Parties around the group were equally disgruntled, complaining about how long it would take to reach the entrance.

"Loto's home isn't as far away as you'd think," Cyryl comforted, spotting Omar's and August's annoyed expressions. "He lives on the outskirts of Primrose, to the south. It shouldn't take more than half a day's boat ride to reach him."

"You said you've never been here before," August recalled, tilting her head.

Zie nodded. "That's true, but I've been exchanging letters with my friend for over a year now. I have some knowledge of the area thanks to him."

August frowned slightly, reminded of her disdain for this situation. They were to stay at Cyryl's friend's house; the mysterious figure in question was an Ice-magician called Loto. Cyryl mentioned he ran a black market business, so he was skilled at concealing criminals. Sleeping at a crook's home was the last thing August yearned for.

"What's your friend like?" Omar asked.

"Oh, Loto? He's the best friend you could possibly ask for," Cyryl chirped. "He's one of a kind. No matter what comes his way, he tackles it head on with a smile. I admire him for it." Zir enthusiasm wavered as zie longingly added, "I wish I could match his valiance."

August racked her brain for the definition of 'valiance,' but came up empty. She nudged zir arm and said, "Chin up, kid. You're fine as you are now." She silently added, Don't wish be to be like a crook, either.

"Loto's a bad guy?" Gracie whined, intruding on her thoughts.

No. August hoped she was telling the truth. He's fine. Don't drop eaves on my thoughts. She backtracked. Wait, how much o' my mind can you see?

"I hear you when you're thinking like you're talking," Gracie explained. "That's it."

That offered August the tiniest sliver of comfort. She sighed, adjusting her focus back to her surroundings. Giggling little kids carrying yellow paper lanterns skipped past her, catching her interest.

The elderly man standing behind her grumbled to his wife, "Ai adai. Those kids need to learn some manners. They're too loud."

His wife clicked her tongue and shook her head. "I know, I know. Their parents are probably too busy protesting to teach them. These younger generations don't know what matters anymore. When a city floods, they care more about using that for their politics than helping the people and Pokémon who were hurt in it!"

August tuned out their complaints, rolling her eyes. It seemed like her parents weren't the only ones who disagreed with those her age. The pirate joined back into Cyryl's and Omar's conversation, restlessly bouncing her leg and keeping an eye out for danger.

Multiple hours of waiting later, they reached the inside of the bright red pavilion. Packed shoulder-to-shoulder in the miniature space, the air grew foul and steamy. Elbows and walking canes exchanged passive blows while citizens hissed curses at each other to get to the front desk.

Fortunately for August, Omar's colossal build prevented them from losing their spot. He stood out like a tree among daisies, towering above the natives as a rooted wall. She and Cyryl flanked his side as they progressed with the former glowering at whoever strayed too close.

When they reached the booking clerk—a middle-aged woman who fanned herself with an empty folder—she droned, "What will it be?"

"We'd like three tickets to travel to south end of Primrose, please!" Cyryl shouted over the rowdy crowd.

She flipped through a box of folders, continuing, "Do you want to take the Candleabra River or the Francesca?"

"We'd prefer Francesca, please."

"Then that'll be 30 incos, ten per ticket."

August's frown deepened. She and Omar handed Cyryl their shares who dropped the gold onto the clerk's desk. The clerk whistled sharply, and a beige feline scampered to her desk. Zir long whiskers and shining coin placed atop zir head reminded August of Cyryl's magician form.

The Meowth counted all the incos then swept it into zir pouch. "Meow!"

"Okay," the clerk said, giving Cyryl the tickets, "you'll be going on the fourth Gyarados boat to your right." She forced an obviously fake smile. "Enjoy your trip."

Cyryl returned, "You too!" Realization sunk in as zie added in a rush, "Wait, I-I meant have a pleasant day yourself—"

August dragged Cyryl away from the clerk as Omar offered the worker an apologetic grin. Several shoves and curses later, the three stumbled out of the pavilion and onto the pier. August stiffened into a halt, and the other two walked ahead of her.

"That was an embarrassment to mankind," Cyryl agonized, zir cheeks tinted pink.

Omar patted zir shoulder. "Don't worry about it." He turned around and saw August; his eyebrows climbed his forehead. "Are you okay?"

August barely registered his words, her gaze locked on the churning water. Muddy, blue-green waves stampeded forth, each violent torrent overtaking another in a flashy spout of white foam. The coursing river breathed in rough, uneven gasps as the water swelled and fell every few moments.

Face tight and voice strained, she lied, "Aye."

Cyryl glanced between her and the water, offering, "Here, stand on the left side by the wall. I'll be on your right."

August squared her shoulders and lifted her chin high, masking her nervousness with annoyance. "I'm not scared o' the water. Just get to the boat."

They obliged to her demand and continued on, but Cyryl stayed on her right side. August's beliefs contested with one another; should she thank her apprentice or scold zir? August saw Cyryl in the corner of her eye. She settled for a tiny, appreciative nod. Zie smiled.

The Gyarados ferry itself was a long gondola with a roof suspended overhead. A dozen benches filled the sitting area, packing the passengers together with zero space left to spare. As the three settled in the last row, the humidity spiked to a suffocating degree. The dark gray clouds rumbled once, twice, then released a heavy downpour upon the earth.

"Wow, I haven't seen rain in years," Omar remarked, stretching out his palm.

The sky crackled again—he flinched.

"I...I don't miss it anymore."

⚔️

The night fell as the rainstorm's intensity heightened. August's nerves prickled as the ferry slowed to a stop, resting at a city made up of piercing blues and shadowy blacks. She spotted guards marching up and down the streets, illuminated by the azure lamp posts.

"Loto's house isn't that far of a walk," Cyryl promised.

August wore her bag beneath her coat to keep Gracie dry. She said, "Let's go."

They hurried through the hissing rain with raised hoods and clenched jaws. Water came from everywhere. Raindrops poured from above in violent torrents. Gigantic puddles splashed up at them from the earth and soaked through their boots and pants. The powerful wind worsened the situation even further, pelting the shivering figures with frost-laced gusts.

Cyryl led the group to the darkest section of the city where one building rose above the rest. Unlike those surrounding it, its lights were pale green. They entered it just to learn it was the lobby to an inn with no one manning the front desk.

"Um, hello?" Omar called out.

The clinking of metal on metal responded. An odd Pokémon ascended from zir resting place on the table. Zie bounced up and down, jingling zir keys.

Cyryl approached zir, grinning. "Hello there. My name's Cyryl, I'm a close friend of Loto. Would you happen to know his whereabouts?"

The Klefki whirred and zoomed off to the room behind zir.

August's patience expired, wrecked by her hunger and exhaustion. She fiercely whispered, "What is this? I was told we were going to a house, not an inn."

"Well, he never told me what type of house he had exactly," Cyryl admitted, wringing zir hands. "But an inn is still a home, is it not?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Tauros shit. Guards need permission from an owner to enter zir home. They don't need it fo' a public place like an inn."

Cyryl frowned, now upset. "I don't think that's true. Warrants are—"

"Hey," Omar interjected, stepping between the two. "Stop fighting."

August scoffed in unison with her growling stomach. Cyryl shuffled in place.

He sighed. "We're all tired and hungry and confused. Let's not add another problem, yeah?"

"I apologize," Cyryl muttered.

Too proud to admit her wrongdoings, August replied, "That key ring best be fast."

Right at that moment, the Klefki returned with a new person in tow. The stranger was a short boy wearing a tan cloak three times too big for his body. A long scar running from the bridge of his nose to the left side of his jaw emphasized his ragged appearance. His purple eyes widened as they settled on Cyryl, matching the magician's excitement.

"Cyryl?" he said breathlessly.

"Loto!" Cyryl exclaimed. Zie dashed to his side and ensnared him in a tight hug, rambling, "It's been so long! What is it? Twelve months, fourteen months? It's been much too long!"

Loto laughed, returning the embrace. "You're right, it's been way too long." He pulled back, confusion warping his features. "Wait, wait a second. Why are you here?" He looked over Cyryl's shoulder at August and Omar, worry gathering in his eyes. "And who're they?"

"It's quite a long story on how I've wound up here, truth be told," zie said, hanging onto his arm. "And these two have everything to do with it."

"I'm Omar Durka," Omar introduced, grinning. He had to tilt his head downwards to make eye contact with Loto; the shipbuilder was several heads taller.

August nodded. "Gold."

"My name is Loto," Loto replied, keeping his distance from them. August didn't miss how his gaze lingered on Risk. His eyes then fell to the puddles forming at their feet, and he waved them forward. "Oh, you're soaked! The rain's nasty tonight. You guys can explain everything upstairs."

August stared at his hand—he was completely missing two fingers and then more than half of his middle one. She pitied him; he didn't have the pleasure of flipping people off. His remaining digits were colored black, covered in a dusty substance. Soot.

Suspicions boosted, August brought up the rear as they climbed several flights of stairs. The stench of dry smoke strengthened as they climbed the cherry red floors. Still, no trace of an actual fire ever crossed her sight.

Loto's home sat atop the highest floor in the very center. He pushed open the doors with a slight grunt, revealing a luxurious room constructed of dark woods and rich greens. Short tables encircled by plush cushions furbished the floor, and expensive paintings lined the walls.

Omar complimented, "You have a beautiful home."

Loto beamed. "Thank you! Me and Dew try our best to make it look nice."

August scrutinized Loto. He seemed no older than Cyryl with his childish features and easygoing persona. Maybe he worked for a boss in the underground, she thought. It would explain how he could live undetected in a tower as extravagant as this one.

"De!" an orange rodent cried, breaking her concentration. Zie darted to the front door, donning a blue scarf matching Loto's own. "Dedenne!"

"Dew!" Cyryl cheered, squatting down to pet the Dedenne. "How've you been?"

Dew closed her eyes and cheeped, rubbing her pudgy cheek against Cyryl's palm. Pidge's feathers ruffled in jealousy.

"You all can sit here," Loto suggested, "and I'll bring some food for everyone. Nothing says happy like a full stomach."

"I'll help you," Cyryl offered, following him with a bounce in zir step.

Once they turned the corner, August grumbled, "It smells bad." She copied Omar's actions and sat atop one of the floor pillows placed by a knee-high table.

"It smells like Fire-type droppings." Omar laughed at her grimace. "They have a musky, smoky smell."

The corners of her lips quirked as she lightheartedly mocked, "Leave it to you to know that. Is that the key to White Lightning's speed? You take Nuri's shit an' toss it in the furnace?"

He shook his head, chuckling. "No, no. You've got it all wrong."

While they bantered back and forth, August noted their surroundings in case of a quick escape. She spotted a balcony at the end of the hallway to their left. The gigantic paintings could be hiding secret passageways, too. One piece of art caught her attention in particular: it depicted a reptilian Pokémon with a jagged shell and hat standing atop a sand dune.

"It's stuffy in here," Omar commented. He gestured to her backpack. "How's Gracie?"

August carefully took off her bag, replying, "Fine, I guess. She went quiet in the lobby." She undid the top and peered in, finding Gracie succumbed in a deep slumber. "She's sleeping."

He reached over to rub Gracie's chin. "She's a precious habibi. My Nuri and Marley never slept when they were young. They kept me active all day." He paused. "Will you tell Loto about her?"

She tsked. "'Course not. I've no reason to trust him. Shaymin are extinct; anyone would steal her an' sell her fo' a high price."

Speaking of Giratina, Loto reentered the lounge with Cyryl behind him. They carried several dishes each and placed them on the table then sat across from the two. The foreign sight of sliced fruit, pickled vegetables, sweet bread rolls, and raw fish Pokémon with dipping sauces made August's head tilt. Even more confusing, Loto gave the company two thin sticks per person.

"What's this for?" Omar asked, holding the sticks in each hand.

"They're chopsticks, you use them to eat," Loto answered. He pinched the tool between his remaining fingers and picked up a piece of the pungent radish. "Like this, see?"

August stabbed a piece of fish with her chopsticks. "This works, too." She sniffed the meat. "Wishiwashi?"

As Omar gave up on the chopsticks and proceeded to skewer the food, Loto laughed and said, "Yeah, I bought it this morning."

The pirate dug into her food. Neither she nor her companions had eaten since the early morning. The others followed suit, falling silent as they filled their empty stomachs. August snuck bits of fruit into her bag for Gracie to eat later.

"There's no need to hide Gracie; Loto already knows of her existence," Cyryl informed, halting her actions.

"Kid..." she rasped, her white knuckles crumbling the bread roll in her grasp.

Cyryl's cheeks colored as zie realized zir mistake. Zie sputtered, "B-but I had to! How else could I explain how we appeared out of thin air inside the lobby? It's impossible for me to hide secrets from Loto."

August groaned, her disappointment besting her annoyance. She was too tired to be furious; her brain's fatigue kept her anger at bay.

Omar squeezed her knee, and she inwardly flinched. He comforted, "Cyryl had good thoughts in mind. It's an honest mistake zie won't make again." He gave zir a pointed look. "Yeah?"

"Of course!" Cyryl agreed.

"I swear I won't cheat you out of your Shaymin," Loto interjected. "I don't take part in Pokémon trade, and I also don't put friends in danger. You're safe here."

"Friends?" she repeated in a scoff, not believing her ears.

Loto half-smiled. "A friend of Cyryl's is a friend of mine." He ruffled the back of his hair. "Um, can I see her? Gracie?"

August drew her bag toward her, retorting, "Say who you are first. No normal crook can afford a place like this."

"Fair enough." He sat up straight. "I'm a Black Powder chemist." Noticing hers and Omar's confused expressions, he clarified, "Black Powder is an explosive. You blow stuff up with it."

Dew scampered off to a back room and returned with a small vial. Loto uncorked it and handed it to August. She poured a bit of the contents into her palm only to gag. The awful stench from before hit her full force with the dusty black substance's appearance.

Omar choked. "Is that Fire dung?"

"You got it," Loto replied all-too-happily, snickering at their reactions. "If you dry out Turtonator shit and mix it with a few other things, you get Black Powder. It took me a while to figure out the perfect recipe. Anyways, I sell it to merchants who dish it out in port towns. And I live here 'cause my guella lets me. She owns the Turtonator I use, too."

He gestured to the painting of the reptilian Pokémon. Below it, August now noticed, was a line of urns. They had the exact same carving patterns the vial she held. She twisted around and saw the tall jars resting everywhere.

"Your home's full of this," she said, her shock erasing emotion from her voice.

Loto shrugged. "It's stashed all over the tower. Nobody knows all the places except for me and Dew. We're fine, though. Fire-types aren't allowed in here, not even the Turtonator. Unless you do have some Fire magic on you, but you don't, right?"

August rolled her eyes and replied, "Do I look like a magician to you?"

"No, but your sword doesn't feel normal to me, either." Seeing her confused look, he clarified, "Magicians sense types they're weak to. Works with people and their weapons."

She should've known this. Breezing past his accusation, she easily bluffed, "My cutlass is Rock." Shifting the subject, she reached inside of her bag and lifted Gracie into her good arm. The Shaymin buried her face into August's chest, too sleepy to awaken and play. "This is Gracie," she introduced, keeping quiet. She wiped the gentle grin off her face and met Loto's eyes with a warning glare. "You can look, but don't touch."

"I don't break promises," Loto assured.

August's grip on Gracie tightened all the same. "I don't care. Gracie's important." She cut herself off from adding to me. "You know why we came here."

"Yeah, I do. You all want to get into the capital's library." His eyes gleamed, shining with mischief. "You've come to the right guy."

‒‒‒‒‒

⚔️ TERMS ⚔️

Black Powder [blahk pow-dur]
noun
An extremely dangerous explosive substance.

Primrose City [prim-rohse sit-ee]
noun
The capital city of Verelum.

⚔️ ART ⚔️

This cool graphic of Loto and Dew was made by the creator of these said characters, ImberLapis.