Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring.
The crash of waves is loud-- so much louder than it has been in previous calls. One has to wonder what the caller is up to for the roar of water and wind to be so pronounced without drowning him out.
“The Coastlands have actually been quite easy to survey with Lord Basculegion’s help. It makes me wish I had his assistance in other territories, too. Riding on his back isn’t the most intuitive thing, but it is far more comfortable than the average plane. Don’t… don’t tell Skyla I said that.”
There’s a short, startled gasp, and then a loud splash. The speaker lets himself breathe again.
“Machop has been integrating well, and tried to swim alongside us for some time. Over open water like this, though, I’ve been relying more heavily on Gligar, Dewott and Kadabra. I’m hoping we might be able to get through to the alpha Machoke before moving on from this territory, but won’t press if it seems unsafe.” The beat of silence that follows is filled with the screeching of seabirds and what seems to be a seabat.
“Well, more unsafe than it ever is with alpha Pokemon. Now that I’ve stopped to think about it, it was a bad idea to call you in transit like this. I was… just thinking about you, that was all. Take care.”
Click.
---
Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring.
Winds still make themselves known, but not alongside the hissing spray of the sea. While there’s still a crashing noise, it’s heavier, stone against stone rumbling nearer. Before even acknowledging the connection, the speaker guides his Samurott through a battle against some manner of ground or rock type.
When it’s done, he says, “I think I’ve realized what Warden Calaba meant when she said I may be affected by Sadorn’s departure. Sneasler intends for me to become her warden instead. Looking back on her behavior, I think that was why she brought me to Heart’s Home Arena and why Lady Irida was so distressed over it. I wish I’d recognized it; I could have made her understand that I won’t be remaining in Hisui. To some extent, it feels like I’ve raised her hopes only to have to dash them now.”
The rumbling starts again, and this time continues to roll directly by. Once it’s safely past, growing more distant as the seconds tick on, he picks back up. “And poor Miss Sadorn, made to feel unwanted by the charge she’d already put so much into serving. Could I have prevented all of this if I’d just kept my distance? If I hadn’t tried to explore the wrong portion of the Alabaster Icelands, would she have ignored me?”
He breathes a heavy sigh, “It’s useless to dwell on this now; we’re well past that terminal. All there is to do is look toward the next.”
Click.
---
Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring.
“I helped Gliscor evolve today.” The caller says without hesitation, like he’s spilling his darkest, most shameful secrets. “I’m proud of him. He’s come so far since we met, and it-- it felt like when we finally got our hands on a dusk stone. It seems wrong to compare him to Chandelure, but I don’t know how to stop myself. I don’t want to leave him behind when I come home. If it’s either or, the choice is obvious but… but I would miss him.”
There’s a long silence.
“I don’t have anything else to say; it’s just been difficult recently. I hope you’re doing better than I am.”
Click.
---
Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring.
“I’ve found another set of glyphs.” Today, the caller’s voice echoes in the way it always does in caves, “They definitely depict Pokemon; it’s simple to identify Lilligant, Wyrdeer, Basculegion and Kleavor, and… and I know this one, too.”
His voice softens as the statement ends, and remains dampened when he continues. “I don’t know its name, but it’s the Pokemon that brought me here, the one that instructed me to ‘seek out all Pokemon’. It must be able to send me back…”
He trails off for a long spell. The lack of footsteps or any other motion suggests that he’s simply studying the topic of his one-sided conversation.
“If there’s a set in the Mirelands, and now one here in the Highlands, I would hazard a guess that there are others, too. Would they spell some sort of message if I put them all together? What does it have to do with that Pokemon?”
Finally, he steps back. Something clicks, but the call hasn’t ended yet.
When he pipes up again, it’s almost brusque. His mind is clearly on this new mystery instead of the phone call.
“When I depart for the Alabaster Icelands, I’ll ask Lady Irida if she’s familiar with these symbols. In the meantime, I have work to do. I’ll speak with you soon.”
Click.
---
Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring.
The call picks up to slightly distant-sounding breathing and footsteps running through snow. Nearby, but not directly into the receiver, the caller yells, “Machop!” and is answered by precisely that-- multiple times over.
Before he can start his monologue into the phone, he has to field a battle between what seems to be his own Machop and several wild specimen-- and then, once that’s done, takes a moment both to praise it for its performance in battle, but also to scold it for engaging so suddenly.
Once all that’s done, he sighs and finally addresses the recipient. “Apologies for the delay. He took off just as I hit call, and I didn’t want to scare you by hanging up mid-battle. I was just calling to let you know that I did meet Lord Avalugg today, after all. He’s… almost unfathomably large. I have a difficult time understanding how it’s possible for a Pokemon to grow to such a scale.”
Crunching footsteps pick up and his breathing returns to a more appropriate level, absent the thrill of the chase or a battle. “As the last of the Noble Pokemon, it seemed something might happen once I met him, but so far there’s been no change. I’m not sure why these goals are being set, but some of them seem very… arbitrary. That does mark another one complete, though, for whatever that may be worth.”
He pauses, both verbally and in practice. “I should return to my task; I just wanted to give you an update.”
Click.
---
Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring.
“What am I doing, Emmet?” Ingo asks, voice frustrated and thick in a way that belies his emotional state, “It’s been days since I last opened my Pokedex. I’m supposed to be ‘seeking out all Pokemon’, not… any of this.”
A snuffling starts nearby, answered with a dull pat. He spends a minute moderating his breathing.
“I’ve been wasting time on the nobles and alphas when I already know what I’m meant to be doing. I’m not here to worry about the Hisuian Pokemon that go extinct or to figure out how the Unown bridge the language barrier. No matter what else my device might state, my goal is to complete the Pokedex and get home.” There’s a miserable sniffle. “I-- I’m so sorry I lost sight of that. I’ll do better, I promise.”
After a conspicuously long pause, he chokes out, “I love you.”
Click.
---
Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring.
The environment is quiet, but not naturally so. It has a hushed quality to it; distant voices speak, but are held in check.
“The storm that drove me to the Pearl Clan last night,” The caller begins, and if his somber tone didn’t give him away, the deliberate cap on his volume did, “It blew in from the Coastlands. The idea that it could remain so extreme after traveling so far inland is terrifying, and even moreso is-- is the fact that it took Lord Arcanine’s life, and very nearly stole Warden Palina’s with him. I’ve asked what I can do to help, but as an outsider, I can’t contribute much.”
A dull thump is audible, the sound of a head resting against some manner of furniture.
“Sabi and I have tried to stay out of the clan’s way ever since the news broke. She’s been quiet, though, and I’m worried about her. While she’s a resilient young girl, this could be her first experience with death, and I don’t know how to…” He trails off without reaching a conclusion.
There’s a small sigh somewhere very nearby; it’s not Ingo. Fabric rustles. Someone shuffles in close.
Ingo sets the device down without hanging up. Sabi’s voice pipes up, already muted beforehand, and her words are utter nonsense to the average Unovan ear. Whatever Ingo says in response isn’t any better. The two go quiet for several minutes, until Sabi speaks up again, quiet and declarative.
While its meaning is lost on the listener, his voice is enough to know that Ingo asks a question on the level of ‘Are you sure?’ or ‘What makes you say that?’
Sabi’s answer is rote-- toneless and automatic.
“I… I see.” Ingo says, uncertain, and the device is shuffled ever so slightly.
It clicks off just as a child begins to cry.
---
Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring.
“Sabi was correct. Warden Ryder’s body was identified this morning.”
Click.
---
Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring.
Leaves rustle, but the wind isn’t high enough to come across over the connection. Something canine rumbles from very nearby, overtaking the sound.
“Palina is… not doing well in the slightest. It’s to be expected, having lost her ward and come so close to death, but it goes deeper than that.” Ingo says, voice slightly muffled on the first half. Wherever he is, the building grumble close to him peters out into a low chuff. “Each of the wardens seems very close with their noble, but it felt different with Palina and Lord Arcanine-- they seemed less like deity and attendant, and more on par with the sort of partners we would see back home. As though--”
He stops abruptly and a quiet “Ah.” comes across. There’s an immediate tonal shift.
“Do you recall the change in Alder, after Volcarona finally passed?" He asks grimly, "I believe I see something similar in Palina. It’s difficult to say for certain, as I hardly had the time to know her before, but that sort of grief is unmistakable.”
A growl sounds again-- it’s not anger, just the build up to a bark-- and it’s followed by a slow, sympathetic, “Shhhh, I know. I know, it’s difficult. I’m so sorry, Growlithe, but it’s not going to help him right now.”
The noise levels off into a whimper, and a sigh goes muted halfway through.
“You’ve done nothing wrong; he just needs the… the space and time to find himself again.” He says, stifled by thick fur.
Ingo waits a moment after the Growlithe has calmed some, and then returns to the call.
“The matter has been exacerbated by Irida’s interference. You may recall that she had business here in the Coastlands, and that was why we traveled together, but I had assumed it was to offer support to her clanmate. From what I’ve gathered, she’s not unsympathetic, but she seems to believe that the solution is to make Lord Growlithe evolve. I’m almost certainly missing the full context, but the thought is…”
The Growlithe whines again, as if to finish the statement, and Ingo breathes, “Yes, precisely.”
Claws scrape against dirt as the Growlithe stands and begins pacing, and from the sound of it, Ingo gets to his feet as well. “As an outsider, the clan’s inner workings are none of my business, but I’ve tried to ease Palina’s burden somewhat, by caring for Lord Growlithe’s partner in the meantime; both at once had been overwhelming, but she can’t bear to let the young Lord out of her sight.”
A pokeball cracks open, and one of his Pokemon begins tumbling with the pup. The sound of it gets louder and then slightly more faint as Ingo takes several paces out of the way.
“While I’m glad to help, it hurts to be keeping the Growlithe separate. To see Lord Growlithe grieving and hold his partner back from trying to alleviate that pain, I can’t help but think…” He trails off, sounding dour, and the thought goes unfinished. Inhaling deeply, he makes no effort to hide the way he pivots the conversation. “I still need to speak with Irida before she returns to the Icelands, but frankly, I’m in no mood to do so yet; the earlier discussion has her rather heated, and I don’t want to say anything that I might regret. It may be prudent to take a run with Growlithe. Maybe both of us can use it to channel our frustration.”
There’s a begrudging laugh.
“I never thought I would be that sort of person. How long do you suppose it will last once I get home?”
---
Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring.
“I never did ask why Lady Irida leads the Pearl Clan at such a young age. It seemed unfair to judge them by our modern standards, but I’m beginning to wonder if I shouldn’t say something.” The caller says, wind whipping past the receiver. It’s loud, but not what it could be, not like the night he spent fighting for every inch of forward progress in a blizzard.
“Would it be insensitive to bring it up? On either a cultural or personal level? I just want to understand why the clan’s wellbeing has to rest on her shoulders when it’s weighing her down.” A pokeball cracks open and a large creature can be heard breathing nearby; hoof-steps sounding in sets of four mean that it must be Wyrdeer. “The combined loss of Lord Arcanine and the damage to the settlement aren’t something a child should have to bear, and those are only the relatively recent developments-- the ones they allow an outsider to see. She was already facing pressure to find Lord Kleavor a warden and to address the… situation with Miss Sadorn and Lady Sneasler.”
The hoof and footsteps move onto softer, sandy terrain; water rushes, and Wyrdeer snorts into the receiver. Ingo murmurs to it and nudges its snout away.
“She asked if I would consider training to become Lady Sneasler’s warden, and as much as I want to help, I can’t. Not like that.”
He takes a deep breath and, if the resultant hiss is anything to go by, regrets it when the brisk wind rushes his lungs.
“I’m almost done with the Pokedex, I know it, so while I’m still here, I’ll do whatever else I can to help... but giving Sneasler someone to rely upon only to yank them away is cruel. I’m not going to do that to her.”
They start walking again, and before the connection dies, he whispers a small, “I’m sorry I did it to you.”
---
Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring.
“I think-- I think Cherubi was the last one. My device updated to suggest a change, and going back through the Pokedex, there aren’t any incomplete evolutionary lines. Tomorrow, I’ll start the trip to Jubilife Village and share the rest of my findings with the Survey Corps. With any luck, I’ll see you soon.”
Click.