no spills this time. no waste of napkins or drink. she will be careful not to embarrass herself before another member of the elite four.

the chime rings- but it is the sound of kyle's voice that lures her. she waves and adjusts her bag's strap on her shoulder before heading toward his table.

"are you sure you really want that?" dahlia's face wrinkles incredulously, lips twirled into a half-smile. "between you and me, being a part of the elite four is much more exciting than being a boring councilman."

she takes her seat. after her swift descent, her small purse strikes the seat like an anchor.

kyle lopez

and on cue, dahlia does indeed laugh. within kyle's jesting, the truth is stretched like taffy. she asks for a hot coffee. no sugar. just milk.

"oh no, enough about fernando." she says. "so i wanted your input on a few things, namely," dahlia pulls out a small agenda from her bag, bright blue eyes hovering over the binding, "possible new elite four candidates? benoit is getting busy, stormy is doing fine— and we have an empty slot. any ideas?"

her eyes coast across her notes before resting on kyle's for a response.

kyle lopez

"you and me both." dahlia says. her fingertips begin to flutter, begging to tap away at the side of a hot cup. "my schedule has been so packed lately i barely have time to think."

finally, their drinks arrive. gratitude is exchanged with quick smiles as the commissioner scours her mind for names. as their server leaves, she speaks:

"ramsay, fairburne," she says, "they've been quite involved, i've heard." dahlia continues. "although the gym challenge is similar to a tournament or a sports circuit, i have to admit, to be an elite four, there is an element of reputation that has to be considered. don't you think?"

kyle lopez

the commissioner hoists heavy breath into her body. war's stresses have not released their hold on her. the rib cage is tight with residual anguish. resilience can come at a price. she forces the air to her lungs with milky coffee.

"billi marsh, despite his age, did quite well in lilycove." dahlia says. "senon game was another name i've heard mentioned. promising ranger. nevertheless in war, it is a collective effort. of course you know that."

setting her cup down on the table, her voice falls to a hush.

"kyle, i need to let you in on a little secret."

kyle lopez

dahlia notes those names in milky coffee. tapping the top of her palate with the tip of her tongue, she recalls names. remembers them. so high in the league's ranks, there is so much to track— but perhaps, the scalding of a hot beverage would be enough to render them permanent.

not sure if they want the title, he says.

"cooper is sick." dahlia whispers below the constant static of a coffee shop's conversations. "terribly so. whatever was imbued into her from groudon, at least with that volume, was not meant to be contained within a human body."

she leans forward too. less distance for the channeling of secrets— but also less distance for the implication to travel. dahlia's blue eyes fall upon kyle in firm shapes.

"this is important."

kyle lopez

so he knows. the tattoos—if one could call them those—have become more like marks of death.

"they are a byproduct of her powers, yes." dahlia says. "unfortunately, i am not sure if she has a lot of time left." an uncomfortable topic marked by uncertainty. a medical mystery, one perhaps, only referenced in myth and fairy tale or some obscure parchment or cave drawing.

it is too late to find a cure— if one even exists.

still hushed under the steam of coffee, she asks, almost a plea:

"you may need to take the mantle of champion," dahlia says, "in her stead."

kyle lopez

"we're trying everything right now." dahlia says— but the vagueness is purposeful. her words dilute and feather by their ends. "i'm remaining hopeful, kyle."

old stories are not research papers. canon dictates what knowledge is proper and what is not. perhaps, there are secrets embedded within fairytales. mythology and spoken word carries with it, the inheritance of older truths.

but deciphering such knowledge requires the bearers of code to be acknowledged. they hide away in the meteoric deep.

"we require a plan b. just in case." she sighs. dahlia can see him attempt to keep their conversation in their little bubble, but how can he when such dramatic loss comes with significant unwanted gain?

kyle lopez