His heart stopped dead in his chest. Every single nerve and muscle in his body went stiff, and his arms ceased their motion mid-row. A million different thoughts raced through his mind, and each one worse than the last. Why did he decide to row back home, away from Sootopolis?

Play it cool, Grigori. You had not only an excuse, but a reason. A perfectly reasonable one. Best of all, it wasn’t even a lie. Cold, hard truth would have to get him out of this predicament.

Was it even a predicament at this point? Perhaps not. Yet the sudden appearance of a pink-haired girl atop a Noivern was not on his ‘people to talk with’ list. This was the first time someone ever found him here, of all places. Anyone he didn’t know and wasn’t a part of Rocket.

“Good afternoon,” Grigori raised a gentle hand. Even in the face of sudden adversity, he kept his fingers steady. A fishing rod dangled out the back of his meager rowboat, and a tackle box on the seat in front of him. Surprisingly, it was a bottle of water that sat alongside it rather than a cooler filled to the brim with cold beer.

“Wonderful weather for fishing,” he said as casually as one possibly could. A subjective statement. Impossible to be a lie. “Would you agree?”

---

Melody Miro

Grigori raised a curious eyebrow. “Is that so? Then shouldn’t the weather be worse in the distance?”

Not suspicious, he desperately convinced himself. All around was beautiful skies with white, puffy clouds and nary a hint of looming darkness. If she was going to lie, then it was important to make it a believable one. Sharpedo or Veluza threats were more common in these parts.

He would know. He actually frequented these parts. Hell, half the time it was his own two hands that helped mitigate their threats with his trusty fishing pole. It sat across the benches, long and heavy with line.

“But… if you say that there is a problem, then an escort might be necessary,” he reluctantly said. “I was…”

Fuck. Not the way to start that sentence. “On my way home, yet wanted to do a little fishing. The best spot is further yonder,” he motioned the way Melody had come from. "Many a rare fish not seen in Hoenn. Migrating breeds. If you're lucky, even a Wailord and her young..."

Ultimately, his desire was to not get arrested (at best). No point to tempt fate with insistence of her lie. But why lie at all? Was there something afoot in the sea?

Was the League plotting something?

---

Melody Miro

Grigori raised an eyebrow. Was she even a part of the Pokemon League, or what she instead a pirate hoping to draw him to a trap? Hard to say, given her shady responses and backwards logic.

“Rayquaza would certainly remove the clouds,” he agreed. “But… then how the waves? Surely even a powerful creature like that could not hope to contend with the very sea itself?”

Impossible. Kyogre was a force of nature, much like its two brethren. Groudon ruled the land, and Rayquaza guarded the skies with ferocious intent. Yet it was the blue creature that commanded her seas with the fury of a storm. And if Rayquaza attempted to stop it, then there’d be conflict.

And everyone would know.

“And no thanks. I’d prefer to be home swiftly if the seas are truly dangerous right now,” he said. Secret spots were dangerous. All his superiors knew was that he was heading home via sea. It’d be days before anyone noticed he was absent.

“But we can still chat. What is your favorite sea creature, I suppose?” Grigori rowed alongside Melody as they kept going. He managed to keep up, a surprise given the different methods by which they moved. Strong, heavy arms pushed and pulled the oars as they cut through the calm waters.

Very, very calm waters. Strangely so, even.

---

Melody Miro

Grigori was a professional in lying.

Rather, he was very good at knowing when something was the truth, it was a lie, or when it was something inbetween. He lived in that limbo of mistruths and obfuscation of what actually occurred. Required to. She was a bad liar alright.

But he had that figured out long before she blatantly admitted it. The area was zoned off, or she desperately wanted to take his belongings and decide whether to let him live or not. Former put it as a large, very confidential League secret. Latter put her as a first day bandit.

Both were well outside his jurisdiction and pay grade. He was not a spy, and he was not stupid.

“My favorite is the noble Empoleon,” he said. Yet his boat shifted in a different direction than Melody’s, and he rowed faster than usual. “Strong. Determinate. Bold. I see a little of myself in them. Which is why I think it best to find Hoenn on my own. No harsh feelings.”

Unfortunately, his sense of direction had been ruined by Melody’s arrival. That’s why, very much on accident, he started to go straight towards her secret area. But he looked determined to get as far away from her as possible. Whatever it was, he was not the type to get mixed up into the matter.

“Your secret is safe with me. Good luck.”

---

Melody Miro

Grigori stopped.

He tried to move his limbs, but they did not obey his orders. Hard as a rock, even his neck stiffened upon her command. Try as he might, there was nothing to be done. Not a nerve in his lips tried to open, to scream, to question, to ponder.

In all senses of the term, he ceased to be a person, but a golem to command. And thus, she did. Without knowing how his arms finally moved. But once more, not in a way he controlled. They pivoted the boat around, and rowed in the opposite direction. They were going back.

“I will not tell anyone about…” he finally said. An agreement to her desire. He tried to say what he would not talk about experimentally, but they left his mind as soon as they threatened to spill.

This was the power of an Avatar. No way around it. Unbeknownst to him, the Champion of Hoenn had gained powers beyond his understanding. Yet as he rowed away, he knew that this was going to remain under wraps.

There was no way to fight the will of her honeyed words, desperate as they were.

“Have a good day.”

---

Melody Miro