Chapter 58

The Equinox Ball was never in the same place twice.

Hayden didn't know exactly how that was possible—for creatures who lived so long, surely they must've brought it to just about every corner of the world by then. Every interesting natural formation, every large cave, and floating over every region and landmass.

But of course she couldn't possibly know if the location they'd picked was unique, without ever attending one before.

This particular ball was out in the middle of… well, nothing.

The evening ball happened under full sunlight, with tall grass swaying gently back and forth to a slow, comfortable breeze. Tables cast from chunks of solid crystal floated gently up and down at various heights, surrounding an area approximately the size of a ballroom.

Not crystal—a shiver down Hayden's bare skin told her what she was really looking at—ice. Ice encased the floor beneath them too, freezing the grass there in motion. Soft wildflowers stood suspended, vivid pinks and purples captured in eternal bloom.

Somehow, not a drop of it melted.

“There are many rules to attending this ball,” said the lady of the household, into the back of her mind. “I could explain them all, but that would be dreadfully dull for both of us, so I have not. Instead, take this.”

She drooped lower in the air, reaching towards Hayden's head on the pretense of straightening a stray hair. As she did, her hand touched her bare skin, and thoughts flowed between them.

This was telepathy, but far faster than simple conversation. This was the transfer of information that she already knew could harm a common pokémon.

That didn't make it easy for Hayden, though. Her knees buckled, and Liz dropped right out of the air. Hayden caught her gently across her hand, holding the kitten close to her chest. Her own power was enough to hold them up, with the pokémon doing the far more difficult job of processing so much information.

She saw… lessons, from eyes not much higher off the ground than her own. Voices drilled her, lectured out of heavy books, and smacked her with bamboo whenever she spoke out of turn.

She saw herself wearing colorful kimono after kimono—flirting with mythical pokémon, running off with them, causing trouble in the nearby towns, pretending to be servants… all the crazy things that Hayden herself might've done.

It might've been months by the time their contact ended—months spent living as another young woman, one born to the privilege instead of a stranger adopted into it. There was only one prominent memory missing—anything about Lord Moonstone. “There,” said the lady, settling the stray hair behind Hayden's ear. “I did my best to spare your sensibilities of the—other activities that young people sometimes use to engage their time.”

Hayden wobbled, and would've dropped right out of the air beside her daemon, if it wasn't for the several more months to acclimate to her new station. She managed to stay in the air, massaging Liz with a gentle finger. The mew groaned with pain, still recovering.

What hit Hayden only as highlights, her daemon processed raw. “I'm grateful, lady,” she thought, bowing. She said no more, though her mind raced with thoughts of those long empty portions. Ilene was right about the wording of that contract—even the ruling nobility of the past lived lives that common pokémon would describe as “scandalous impropriety.” No wonder Johto had such a thriving gossip column.

"Yes, well. Was that sufficient? I hope so, because there's no time for more." She gestured, urging Hayden higher up into the air.

Everyone wasn't floating, of course. Not all creatures here could. As of a few seconds ago, she now knew that the act of flying symbolized the connection with heaven, and by extension the divine Arceus from whom all their authority derived.

In theory, anyway. The legendary originator's design was present everywhere—plates engraved on tables, which separated into each pokémon type as their creator had once organized.

Likewise, not all the guests here could fly their plates and tools around, so tables with actual chairs cluttered beside the dance floor.

Here stood, sat, and floated the most important people in the entire world. From here, wars were declared, borders changed, and treaties signed.

A small road led up a distant hill from a village only dimly visible to Hayden from her current vantage.

Quite a bit of space for an exceptionally small crowd. Two dozen at most, flanked by many more lesser nobility from powerful yet not mythical houses. And for each of them, another dozen or so servants.

The strangest part of it all was not the number of staff—she'd seen enough of that even while she lived with Shaymin house. But in all that time, she'd never seen so many that were so… young.

Every single one, from the ones carrying trays of food to the ones refilling drinks, was somewhere between eleven and thirteen. They all wore familiar serving clothes, they went through all the same motions—but without a lifetime of training, each one could only approximate the proper performances, without ever quite reaching them. Even as she watched, someone knocked over a dessert tray, spilling tiny cakes all over the floor.

Every single one is unsettled, Liz thought, directly into her mind. No one here has an adult daemon, except the guests.

Eleanor did say it was a special day of celebration for the regular servants. I guess it makes sense—if they were here, they'd be more stressed than we are.

"You already know where we're going first. Unless you're much less competent than I imagine," Lady Moonstone said, leading them gently through the tables. Wherever they went, many others stopped to stare, attention focused on Hayden. She was a stranger here, yet also one of those most expected.

Hayden nodded politely to some, while pretending not to notice others. There was a precise order here, a priority to which families deserved recognition from her, and which did not.

Despite her behavior, what she received from the pokémon was… nothing. They didn't bow back, or rush over to meet her. Most just stared, fascinated and confused by her unfamiliar presence.

"To Lord Moonstone. Then he'll return me to my family, and I'll spend the rest of the night with them."

The lady nodded her approval. "With your Unity, I expected as much. That is correct. As for what comes after—the decision is yours, and perhaps those of the other guests at this fine occasion." “It isn't like us to give commands, kitten. But we can give advice.”

She looked back, meeting her eyes. Theoretically, the telepathy between two beings like them would not be overheard—not because no other could force their way in, but because of a complex social code between them, preventing anything other than respect of each other's boundaries. In the same way, she was expected not to alter memories, and Manaphy wouldn't be swapping souls around. In theory.

But Victini shouldn't have attacked me, either. Hayden reached sideways, rubbing one finger against the burned patch on her arm. No marks remained from that injury—mew healed far too well to leave evidence behind.

In her mind, she still felt his finger, jamming harshly into her skin. More importantly, she remembered the threat he made against her family.

We're stronger now. We have more Unity than he does. We're ready.

They could be twice our age, maybe more. Just because they look similar doesn't mean they are. Legendaries don't age like normal people.

There was no more time for debate between her and her daemon—they'd arrived at the high table. All murmured conversation ceased, and the attention of several figures turned on them.

At its head was the Eldest, Lord Moonstone. He reclined an inch or two out of his seat, somehow less brightly lit than the others. Though the others sat in full sun, only silvery moonlight reached his skin.

On his either side were several others—with species Hayden could name, though she had no personal memories of the pokémon themselves. To his left, an empty seat—and another on his right. Beside that was a shaymin she had never seen, a Sky Forme watching her with a buck-toothed grin and a daemon circling the air above them with restless energy. Beside them, a dignified victini, with a thin white beard narrowing to a point below the table. Then there was a dark-skinned man with arms covered in intricate tattoos. A huge tank rested on the ground behind him, within which a daemon circled around and around, surrounded by fish. Manaphy.

On his other side was one other man wearing a flowing gown rather than trousers, tapping a melody with his fork against the wood. Elsewhere at the table, Diancie rested on a lump of crystal, glowing with the exact shade of pink as the one around Hayden's neck. That left two others, lingering near the table but not resting in their chairs. First had silvery, almost liquid skin, with dark spots where his eyes should be and a gold bolt around his neck.

The last was the hardest for her to look at—not a person at all, but an empty place where a person ought to be. An inverted, backwards, pulsing void.

A void that shone with flame, focused on her like a lens.

The lords of each Great House. Though they differed widely by age, dress, and temperament, they had at least one thing in common: they were all men.

No wonder they wanted to make sure you were a girl, Liz thought, through telepathy that was somehow quiet. Directly into her mind, soft and insistent. Only men get to sit up here. Doesn't seem fair.

Hayden pushed her away with two fingers, sending the little daemon spinning in a few silent loops through the air. This was not the time to ask questions like that.

"I see a new creature before me, settled of no lineage. By what right have you come, stranger?" Lord Moonstone spoke slowly, using each word with ritual discipline. She didn't have to wonder if he was pretending not to know her—the purpose here was obvious. It was all part of the performance.

Hayden bowed low, low enough that her gown dragged along the ground and her head dipped below the table. In particular, she planted both feet on the ground, showing clearly that she did not elevate herself above any of the creatures here. Until this ritual was over, even the pseudo-legendaries in attendance were technically more entitled to their places than her.

"By no right of birth," she answered. This part at least she knew clearly—she had months to go over the details, memorizing them carefully. In its way, this ball was the most important moment of her new life.

"I claim through right of survival. A-as… one who flies naked into the storm. As one who drinks the ambrosia planted by our God. I claim by right of reincarnation."

It didn't matter if Hayden actually believed any of the religious implications. Her powers told her clearly that many of the audience didn't either.

"I see moonlight reflected on your face, fatherless and motherless. In your presence, we hear the demand of the first father, the ancient firmament. As his appointed representative, I welcome you into our midst. Are we agreed?"

"I agree," the shaymin said. Not Lord Gracidea, or at least not the same one Hayden had ever met. He sounded almost… bored? Maybe even confused. But he knew the ritual. "My house found this one, my house nurtured her. My house saw her trial before Camael. She flies with ancestors and walks our ancient ways. So she is welcomed." Then he gestured, tossing her something.

Hayden caught it with her powers, then brought it close. A little red flower—the most important flower in her world. She tucked it behind one ear, into the place a shaymin would wear it. What better way could she mark her joint heritage?

"The seas know her," said someone else—the manaphy, with voice so deep she could feel the waves crashing against her. "The halls of Samiya await her visit. The fish desire her company. She is welcomed."

"Victory in combat is hers," said Victini. He was by far the visibly oldest of the people here. But he didn't even have the ears of Unity. Was he completely human, or just hiding the truth somehow? "We welcome her to greater challenge, encircled by the brightest flames."

One by one the others recited their words, some with enthusiasm, while others were clearly pressured unhappily into contributing. The rock didn't like her much, while another lord sang his greeting to her like a choir.

Then the table vanished—the crowd faded, each watching face. Darkness surrounded her. A cold beach appeared, not that long ago. She saw the corpse of her oldest friend. She saw herself, wrapping the body, then lowering her into the grave.

Hot tears stained her face. A hand touched her shoulder, and words echoed in her mind. "The dead know her touch also. Where honor is given, respect is returned. When her time has come, we will welcome her."

She looked up, and saw a figure there—a man, with skin of pale white, and flames where his eyes ought to be.

Then he lifted his hand, and the scene changed. The grave was filled, and grass grew around the base of a modest ponyta statue. A pale flame appeared behind them in the darkness, hopping out behind the grave. A memorial candle, only bigger, with a little blue flame. Was that… litwick?

"But until then, she may attend this assembly."

The vision faded, returning her to the table and the ball and the watching pokémon.

"We respect the testimony of these many noble and great ones," said another voice—from the lanky stranger with silvery skin and half-formed eyes. "But we do not accept it unseen and unwitnessed. We demand a trial to be judged here. The Shaymin found this creature—and one of their spawn is known to be among the lesser liquids. She might have secured from their collective one ancient enough to fill this role. We cannot allow intrusion among our ranks."

Lord Iron radiated no anger, no resentment. The laws governing this body mattered to him, more than the feelings of any others assembled.

Even so, Hayden squeaked with surprise, tail swishing violently behind her. This wasn't supposed to happen! Everyone knew she would be here, the houses had all agreed…

"I testify to her veracity," Lord Moonstone said. "There is no need for a trial, Lord Iron."

"Even so, I demand it," he said, steepling his fingers together. Where they met, they merged, forming a single shimmering blob of liquid metal. "I trust your witness, Eldest. But I will not accept reincarnation without observing it for myself."

The Eldest settled into his seat with an exaggerated feline sigh. "Then a trial you shall have. Lady Hayden, you may prepare." He snapped his fingers, and the high table vanished from around her.