Chapter 52

Hayden was in no rush to return to the ground, not after what she had just been through. She caught Liz out of the air in an embrace. It didn’t matter that she felt no cold or wind—her pain went deeper than that.

She rocked slowly back and forth in the air, body wracked with sobs. Even so, no tears lingered on her face. They struck her skin, then hissed and steamed away to nothing. She couldn’t even have that comfort.

The sky darkened. Clouds shifted, and the wind rose, but the scent of smoke followed even so, a reminder of what she had survived.

He didn’t kill anyone, they thought. She wasn’t even sure who—Liz or herself, it didn’t matter. We did it.

If the sky had a bucket for her to melt into for a while, she would take it. What would he have done to us if we were older?

Liz replied this time, nestling up against her chest. She hadn’t changed back yet—not out of any attachment to the new form, not this time. Her fear was as sharp as Hayden’s.

"We have to be ready for the next time. Everyone said it would be like this. He’s only the first."

We already trained so hard, she thought. We were supposed to be ready.

"We were," her daemon prompted. "I fought her! Stupid bunny… thought she could catch me. She cheated!"

"That is their great strength," said a voice, speaking calmly. "Against our family, they have always had a type advantage. But in a direct conflict, they will always triumph. It does not matter how mighty your strikes, how fast or strong your attacks. They will always manifest exactly enough to overpower you."

Hayden looked up, wiping her eyes instinctively. Yet there were no tears—the pain was only in her mind.

The man hovering before her was a stranger—but Hayden’s impression of him was somehow familiar. Implacably, impossibly similar. Yet his clothes—the general style was familiar too. Dark emerald, with accents in light green, along with a bright red ascot around his neck.

A shaymin shot through the air beside him, circling close to Hayden, then back. As he passed, the stink of smoke vanished, leaving them with the comfortable, crisp air of great heights.

Hayden released her daemon, straightening to face the stranger. Compared to Fae, anyone in her house might as well be a loving parent.

Her house. Had she just thought that?

"That was Fae of House Victini, wasn’t it? He’s the closest to your age… and the least restrained. Bit of a troublemaker even in his own lands. Against a house he believes cannot fight back…"

The stranger floated closer, eyeing her up and down. Even if Hayden didn’t recognize his tone or appearance—she knew them by their speech, their firmness.

"Gracidea?" She tilted her head to one side. "Lord Gracidea, I guess?"

"At present," he said, stretching one arm to its full length, eyeing the outline of hard muscles through his military-style jacket. "There was no mistaking that display of power, even at great distance. House Victini is as overzealous as it is wasteful."

He extended one hand towards her, not unlike what Fae had done. But where he had radiated an entitled, barely-restrained hunger—Constantine shared only his concern.

Not love, not what would be waiting down on the ground.

She took the offered hand, shaking with another full-body sob. "You came for me?"

He pulled her closer, then held up her wrist, turning it to one side. Exactly where Fae had burned her. Despite the heat she radiated now, those red marks remained. One already showed the first signs of a blister forming, unmistakable at such close quarters.

"You could say I’m here protecting my investment."

Lord Gracidea reached one hand upward, pressing the finger into the open red flower in his leafy hair. Then he bent down, smearing something against Hayden’s body.

A sudden cool radiated through her, silencing the steady throb of heartbeat. Blistered skin split, then crumbled like the shed remnants of a sunburn.

Hayden exhaled, breathing out a sigh she hadn’t even known she held.

"Is this the only way he hurt you?"

Hayden whimpered, nodding tearfully. "I think he would have… wanted worse. But he said I was too young."

Lord Gracidea turned her around by the arm, inspecting her. "There is—very little written about your kind. Your existence is so rare that not all agree with the… interpretation. Nothing like what you’re implying. But if it came down to your word or his…"

He settled one hand on Hayden’s shoulder, in a gesture dangerously close to becoming a hug. Almost. "Are you okay, daughter? Tell me."

She whimpered, then broke into nervous tears. Hayden had never dared to show that much weakness to Lady Gracidea before. But the sense she might start ripping limbs off if Hayden’s blouse was wrinkled just wasn’t there this time.

She cried. Some streaked down her face. Tears smeared her arm, and came away black and flaked with soot. She ignored it, along with the black marks they left on her face.

"The heat is… uncomfortable," he continued. "You can be certain Fae won’t return. Lose it."

She nodded weakly, secured her grip on Liz, then abandoned her disguise. Her body shrank, and the adventuring outfit vanished with it, replaced by her parents' new invention.

What was left of it, anyway. Transformation protected Hayden and Liz, but an illusion of metal fabric could do nothing to protect the cotton underneath. It flaked away, already missing completely from her sleeves. Sections crumbled from the rest of her, blown by the wind. "O-oh. My parents… worked so hard on that. They… invented a new kind of…"

Something settled onto her shoulders, the weight of heavy fabric and shiny metal buttons. It hung far larger than she needed, almost to her ankles, with the weight of a fancy winter coat.

Lord Gracidea floated before her, buttoning the front with practiced ease. "Most mew wear only illusions when they transform," he said, as though the whole experience was expected. It might as well be another entry in his daily itinerary.

"Don’t shrink, or my jacket is going off your shoulders into the ocean," he continued. "How’s that?"

She inhaled sharply, suppressing another deep sob. She leaned forward, slipping both arms around his waist and squeezing tight.

For one terrible second, the shaymin was frozen. Part of her tensed too, expecting to go flying away from him at any second. Instead, he patted her back gently with one awkward hand. This at least was new to him.

"You’re stronger than you know, Hayden. You endured. Many trueborn legendaries could not. They aren’t pushed half as hard as you."

He let go a few seconds later, prying Hayden gently free of him. His tolerance was not infinite. "We had two choices, daughter Hayden. Either hide you in the shelter of my house and pray that not a whisper escaped—or invest every resource, growing strong enough to survive the storm that will crash down on you.”

He let go, leaving only one hand on her shoulder. "I hope you see why I placed such demands on you. I could not extend mercy that our enemies would not."

Hayden nodded tearfully. If she expected some overwhelming outpouring of affection, she was disappointed. But it was still far more than she had seen from the shaymin. Maybe more than Eleanor had experienced since she settled.

"Y-yeah. I understand." She spun in the air, searching for Sunyshore below them. Its outline was a dim suggestion now, only visible at all thanks to the lighthouse with its steady flashes of white across the ocean.

"Is Mew House similar? Are you… mistreated? I could require your return."

"No. Julian and I are… friends? I think. He’s too young to act like that."

"Good. Then it’s only the Victini I have to worry about. If Fae was willing to make an attack like that once, he would do it again."

He gestured back at the town. "I will accompany you to the ground, so the people of my city can see the situation is resolved. They must feel as though Shaymin House continues to protect them. This violence demands a response—mine to make, not yours. Do you understand?"

She nodded tearfully. "I wasn’t gonna do anything. Victini’s people don’t deserve to suffer because my family did."

She flew back to the ground, in a nearly perfect arc. For once, Hayden found no satisfaction in the activity. Her first trip through the air of her home should’ve brought joy—she felt only pain. There would be no soaring over the rooftops, or lifting her friends into the air to show them what being a mew really meant.

Even in the growing darkness, she knew the shape of her broken home—or the place it should’ve been.

Her family’s clothing shop was now a black scar against the street. Gone were the unevenly-expanded floors, odd-shaped windows. Only a charred husk remained.

"That bad?" Lord Gracidea said, as they neared ground level. "Fear not, child. I smell many foul things above this town—but not the stink of murder. None died here."

Hayden nodded tearfully. "He would have. But leaving with him meant they could escape."

Dozens of people packed into the street, all come to see what happened to the “temple” of their miracle child. Now they looked up, and someone shouted. "Lord Gracidea! He’s here!"

At those words, the sky-forme shaymin shot past them, soaring over the crowd at a distance Liz could never manage. That must be a hundred meters at least!

Then he was back, and the two of them touched down.

Hayden couldn’t care less about the crowd, no matter how loud they cheered. None of these people were the ones Fae came to hurt. Where were the eevees?

"People of Sunyshore!" Lord Gracidea called. "Your miracle child triumphed today! Our enemies in Unova sent a terrible attack, yet here she stands!"

He took Hayden’s arm then, holding it up for the crowd.

More cheers, though that wasn’t all Hayden sensed from this group. Many were terrified, either of another attack or the return of the same enemy. Was the fire extinguished? Would it return?

One figure emerged from the crowd, stepping forward into the light.

Eleanor had a mane of flowing green leaves now, and a shape too mature to fit properly in an eevee’s dress. Her feet were bare, and ash smeared her arms and body. She managed dignity anyway, arms crossed gently before her, with Loch resting comfortably there.

"The town is safe, father," she said. Loud enough for the nearest members of the crowd to hear, but not closer. "We extinguished the flames before they could spread."

Lord Gracidea barely turned in her direction. "And my daughter was here too—wise and generous. I must go now, and ready our armies. You will have a garrison from Gracidea by morning, and all the gold needed to rebuild."

He patted Hayden’s shoulder once, then released her. “Return to Johto by whatever route brought you here. You should not linger.”

Then he lifted up again, scattering dust and ash as he did so. Strangely, Hayden could barely even smell the fire. How could it burn her whole life, and not even make smoke?

Now all that attention was on her. Dozens, maybe hundreds of eyes, all watching her. "My parents," she finally said, floating past a few watching constables, and the fire brigade. She ignored the mayor’s gestures from the back. "Where is my family?"

No one spoke. The crowd held still, with only children and their daemons murmuring from the distance.

Then Eleanor gestured. "Come with me, Hayden. I’ll show you."

She offered her hand, and Hayden took it. They floated together along the sidewalk, where only yesterday she had said goodbye to Lin. Now it was littered with broken chunks of wood and twisted metal, fallen free from her home.

They passed through a stone arch, the door charred to a crisp. Some of the bolder members of the crowd tried to follow them, at least far enough to look in after them. Most didn’t even do that.

The floor within should’ve been a mountain of debris, from the several haphazard stories her family had added over the years.

Instead, a walkway covered in rich black soil extended into the ruin, continuing directly to the center.

A circle of pink flowers now grew there, blooming vibrantly in a blanket of emerald grass. Bright vines expanded from it in all directions, thicker in places than Hayden’s arms. In the ruin of her life, something new already bloomed. "You?" Hayden whispered. "When you couldn’t put out the fire?"

"No." Eleanor wrapped one arm around her shoulder, pulling her in close. Close enough to whisper into one ear. "Her name was… Cody."

Hayden pressed close to Eleanor. Closer than she probably should have, with so many watching strangers. But Hayden didn’t care what they thought just now. "Did they…"

"All of them," Eleanor said. "Your parents. Sisters, brothers. She said you sent her."

Hayden nodded. "Did she say when they were going?"

"When?" Eleanor tilted her head to one side, releasing Hayden’s shoulder. "They can really do that?"

She nodded weakly. "You could’ve gone with them too." Her bare feet touched down on grass, wiggling in deep. The species was strange to her, but familiar and comfortable at the same time. Time travel didn’t need plants—Cody had left all this on purpose.

Hayden bent down, picking one of the pink blossoms. She turned it over in her fingers, before tucking it behind her ear.

"Ellie wanted me to go with her. But your mom—she knew who I was. She’s known this whole time. She would have stayed, if I didn’t."

Hayden hugged her tight, without any of the restraint she used for Lord Gracidea. "Eleanor, that…" She couldn’t speak through that much pain. But she didn’t have to. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

Her sister squeezed right back. “I’m not in the same danger they are. I’m still a daughter of House Gracidea. But your family—they wouldn’t be safe.”

"Lady Hayden," Ilene said, speaking through the silence. "I apologize for my tardiness. It appears as though my absence was deeply felt. But not here—not with this crowd. Is there anyone else to bring?"

Hayden let go, spinning around. "J-just one. Let me get her."