they made their way through the house, and sage took in more of the interior this time as they did so.

the beach that laid on the other side seemed to send a rush of excitement through delta. she paid no mind to virizion, unaware of its importance in the world.

sage’s attention, however, was easily captured by the grass-type. a legend, a god… whatever people called them, it definitely made her feel something.

”virizion,” she breathed, surprised to see it just… there.

she’d congratulated matias before, but had since forgotten.

delta pulled at her mother’s clothes, clearly wanting something and not distracted from it.

”del, look—“

but the frown that was returned elicited a sigh and sage was reaching into a bag for a pokeball, handing it over.

The words accompanied a memory almost too distant, maybe even blocked out, that it nearly failed to pierce her consciousness at all.

Her gaze lingered on him briefly, but the situation at hand didn’t allow for whatever words she hadn’t thought of yet. After arunning into Sénon Game , it already felt like a small world, and yet she was still taken by surprise.

With Houndoom’s INFERNO still raging, Sagira opted to release two more to help subdue the beast. Dustox and Marowak were released from tossed capsules. Reacting with immediacy at Sage’s nod, the moth flew over Gardevoir’s PSYCHIC barrier, its SHIELD DUST allowing it to avoid the burns of the raging fire. Its only psychic energy rippled downward in disorienting vibration, causing the Zarude to be hit with CONFUSION.

Marowak reeled back and then tossed a BONEMERANG through the air, hitting the monkey square in the jaw before spinning back into its grasp.

Through the flames, she could see the Zarude losing focus, and suffering from its burns, but still aggressive as ever.

She looked back to Sam. “Help us take it down, if you would.”

Another assault was encouraged, just as the bright green glow of JUNGLE HEALING swirled and radiated through the flames, clearing the Zarude’s head and its flesh of wounds. It was unlike any move Sage had ever seen—and she knew grass-types.

“What the hell what that?”

The Zarude screamed powerfully, mostly restored.

---

It was nothing personal.

Sage felt a small hand on her thigh, clinging for comfort.

“She likes apples, yeah.” She looked down into blue eyes. “Want to go see the apple tree Del?”

Actually, had that been what he was offering, or just an apple? That latter would have been sort of weird. What were they, trick-or-treaters? Was he going to let them in?

Delta only stared, of course. Sage looked back up at Matias, shrugging, clueless and clearly having resigned to being so a long time ago.

Had they had it rough? MATIAS SILPH had gotten out, and apparently learned about other things. For Sagira, it hadn’t ever really occurred to her. It had just been how things always were.

“I guess.” She shrugged. “They did the best they could. I feel like I turned out okay—maybe.”

A smile.

She was surprised to hear, again, about what seemed to her a major life experience everyone his age should’ve had by now.

“Seriously?”

Sagira liked camping a lot, and would go often on her own. She enjoyed the peace and quiet, and the immersion into nature. It was rejuvenating.

“Well.” She tipped her beer to her lips. “Now you have.”

The dark and strange of the cave around them now seemed more apt. Just as during her reunition with MATIAS SILPH , a story of tragedy fell between them. How could it not? From where they’d come, few had good stories to tell of such a time in history.

Her eyes hung, solemnly. There was so much guilt for having left the fight.

“I’m so sorry, Sénon.” Her apology was for more than just him, and for an abundance of things he couldn’t yet know. There had simply been too much loss, spread too far, to mourn specifically anymore.

A hand went up to lay on his shoulder familiarly. Comforting, sincere.

Regardless of her own numbness, she remembered how much they meant to him, and that was the part that saddened her the most.

“So… you’re here to fight them, then?”

To stop the spread of the disease that had ravaged their home.

Sagira watched the flames begin to leave the dog’s lips, and a sharp warning left her own, “Cacturne—!” But the Gardevoir erected a psychic shield, keeping the heat at bay, and her grass-type safe from undoubtedly terrible burns.

Instead, it was the Zarude that was subjected to them. Sage winced a little at its cries. This wasn’t the way she preferred to handle things, but what else was there to be done, really?

Then, the man who’d come to help them bent towards her. He had strange tattoos, she noted. Like MATIAS SILPH .

“Yeah, fine.” She dusted herself off, eyes soon returning to the battle. Cacturne had gotten back to his assault, sending more thorny stingers in the monkey’s direction.

“Thanks for your help.”

Each lap around the track got her further to the end of such a day, and such a deathtrap. The vibration of the engine was smooth and warm and made her skin crawl, almost numbing. She didn’t like it one bit, but she drove on.

On the last lap, she found herself too close coming off a bend, feeling the awful scrape of metal on metal. She glanced briefly over at her neighbor. “Shit.”

Pedal down, she’d just barely swipe ahead—somehow. Her nerves were shot.

“Just Combusken for now. Needs to cook a little first.”

She smiled. Compliments on food gave her more warmth than others kinds. While the military had seemed, perhaps ironically, like the safest decision when thrust out on her own with no family, it was feeding people that gave her real joy. She had lacked the confidence to explore it further.

But this was fine. This was how things had happened, and she didn’t regret anything. She was happy to be here with MATIAS SILPH and others, and even KING WAYLAND , that night. They were her family.

She went to sit in another chair next to him, watching the sun touch the horizon.

“Maybe he’ll pop up one day.”

It would have been nice to see him again, but they’d also had their time. It had been beautiful, and the memories were perfect left closed where they were.

She sipped.

“Well, I learned the basics at the foster home I lived in as a kid. It was kind of essential. They were spread pretty thin, usually.” Especially when she’d kept outgrowing everyone. They’d all leave—even Matias eventually—and she’d still always been there, learning how to feed new faces. By the time she’d been old enough, she’d practically been raising the rest of the foster children herself.

“But I wouldn’t say I learned how to cook well there. Sénon taught me about herbs and spices, and all of the fun stuff.” She smiled and gave a small laugh. “I didn’t even know what good food tasted like, before.”

No answer—as always.

Although Delta had more KING WAYLAND to her appearance than otherwise, the expression that creased in the girl’s face as she pulled away was unmistakably Sage; a phantom trace that would be with her forever, and that Matias would surely recognize.

Sage’s mouth pressed in a sympathetic, but tired line. Energy was drained from her eyes when she looked back towards the man knelt before them.

“She’s not really a big fan of touching.”

His voice didn’t hold the same familiarity that it used to. She’d noticed it the first time she’d been at his door, and now, again. Where was the boy from before? Nothing was like she’d imagined.

“You, too.”

The smile she gave him felt almost ingenuine, and she briefly wondered why they'd come. She still wasn’t necessarily happy with Matias, but she supposed most things would always be forgiven.

Where his discomfort was hidden, hers was obvious. She knew how much Delta looked like KING WAYLAND, of course. Her eyes watched his, reading what she could while he lowered towards the blue-haired girl at her side. Her gaze eventually fell to her as well.

“Can you say hello?”

Delta only stared, seeming to focus more on Matias’s facial tattoos than anything else before taking a step closer to her mother.

Diced Combusken sizzled as it hit the bottom of a cast iron pot, propped and heated over burning coals. A spatula moved it around to even out before a heavy lid was set on top by its steel handle. The smell of butter, pepper and thyme began to waft.

She took a step back and sipped a hoppy beer, looking towards King. “Combusken Pot Pie coming up.” A smile was given before she paced a few steps, briefly eyeing the ground, straight into a pleasant memory between blades of grass.

“Back when I was still in foster care, after Matias went to live with the Silphs, was when I learned how to cook. Then a rich kid named Sénon Game  taught me some things when we were like, sixteen.” She wondered what he was up to these days. “He went off to culinary school right about the time I enlisted. Probably some fancy chef, now.”