Chapter 60: The Alburth Family
The lights didn't come back on.
Not for an hour. Not for two. The crystal towers of Aethelburg stood dark against the morning sky like broken teeth, their usual hum silenced, their glow extinguished. The canals had gone still—no gentle current, no luminous shimmer—and the floating bridges hung motionless in the air, suspended by mechanisms that no longer worked.
Briv stood at the window of the inn, his breath fogging the glass, his heart pounding against his ribs like a caged animal.
"Emergency meeting," he'd said.
And now everyone was here.
Patricia sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped in her lap, her blue eyes fixed on the dark city beyond. Dariana stood by the door, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. Samuel leaned against the wall, Sudowoodo beside him, both of them unnaturally still. Nicola paced—back and forth, back and forth—her boots clicking against the wooden floor with metronomic precision.
Axel was the last to arrive.
He pushed through the door without knocking, his green eyes sharp, his jaw set. Rotom flickered at his shoulder, its orange body crackling with nervous energy.
"What happened?" Briv asked.
Axel didn't answer immediately. He walked to the window, looked out at the dead city, and then turned to face them all.
"The Eclipse Squad," he said. "They hit the central power core."
The words landed like stones in still water.
"All of it?" Samuel asked.
"Most of it. The backup systems are holding, but barely. We've got maybe forty-eight hours before everything goes dark for good."
Nicola stopped pacing.
"What do they want?"
Axel's expression didn't change.
"Chaos. Disruption. They want to destabilize the League. Make it impossible to hold the tournament."
"Why?"
"Because they can't win it." Axel's voice was flat. "They know they're not strong enough to beat the best trainers in the region. So they're going to make sure no one else can either."
---
The silence that followed was thick and suffocating.
Briv thought of Monferno, of Piplup, of Riolu and Gible and Shinx and Turtwig—his whole team, his whole life, everything he'd worked for. He thought of the League, the one thing that had kept him going through every loss, every doubt, every moment of despair.
He thought of losing it.
"We need to stop them," he said.
"We will." Axel's voice was firm. "But not today. Not like this."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean we need help. Resources. Information." Axel paused. "And I know where we can get it."
---
The Alburth estate sat on the northern edge of Aethelburg, nestled between the crystal district and the old industrial quarter. It was a sprawling compound—multiple buildings connected by covered walkways, surrounded by gardens that somehow still bloomed despite the darkness.
Briv had been here before.
So had Patricia. So had Nicola.
They'd spent a summer here, years ago, back when they were younger and stupider and full of dreams that hadn't yet been crushed by reality. John Alburth had taken them in when they had nowhere else to go. Hannah had fed them, clothed them, treated them like her own children.
And Kay—
Kay had been their friend.
Kay had been more than that, for Nicola.
The gate opened before they reached it—sensor magic, or maybe someone watching from the windows—and they walked through the gardens in silence. The air smelled of night-blooming jasmine and fresh earth. Somewhere in the distance, a Pokémon chirped.
The front door swung open.
Hannah Alburth stood in the doorway, her gray hair pulled back, her warm brown eyes bright with recognition and worry. She was shorter than Briv remembered, frailer, but her smile was the same—wide and genuine and full of something that felt almost like love.
"You're here," she said. "Oh, thank goodness. Come in, come in, all of you."
---
The living room was warm and cluttered—books stacked on every surface, Pokémon toys scattered across the floor, the smell of something cooking drifting in from the kitchen. A fire crackled in the hearth, its light dancing across the walls.
John Alburth rose from his armchair as they entered.
He was tall and lean, his brown hair streaked with gray, his eyes sharp behind wire-rimmed glasses. He wore a lab coat over a rumpled shirt, and there were ink stains on his fingers—the marks of a man who spent more time with his research than with the rest of the world.
"Briv," he said. "Patricia. Nicola."
His voice was warm, but there was something else there too—something cautious, something guarded.
"It's good to see you."
"You too," Briv said.
John's eyes moved to the others—to Dariana, to Samuel, to Axel—and his expression flickered.
"And you've brought friends."
"Allies," Axel said.
John nodded slowly.
"Any friend of these three is welcome here. Please, sit."
---
They settled into chairs and sofas, the room growing quiet as the weight of the situation pressed down on them all. Hannah disappeared into the kitchen and returned with tea and biscuits, which she distributed with practiced efficiency.
"You're here about the blackout," John said. It wasn't a question.
"We are," Axel said. "The Eclipse Squad hit the power core."
John's face didn't change.
"I know. I've been monitoring the situation."
"You have?"
"I'm a researcher. I have access to certain channels." John set his teacup down. "What do you need?"
"Information. Resources. A place to plan." Axel's voice was direct. "We're going to stop them."
John studied him for a long moment.
"You're Axel Dualblade," he said. "The one with the Rotom."
"I am."
"I've heard about you. Your methods are... unconventional."
"So I've been told."
John's expression softened, just slightly.
"I've also heard you're one of the best strategists in the region. That you've never lost a battle you've prepared for."
"I've lost plenty."
"But not the ones that mattered."
Axel didn't respond.
John nodded.
"Alright. I'll help you."
---
The door opened.
Briv turned.
Kay Alburth stepped into the room.
He was taller than Briv remembered—broader in the shoulders, sharper in the jaw. His blond hair was longer now, falling past his ears, and his blue eyes were the same deep, intelligent blue that had always made people stop and stare.
He was beautiful.
He'd always been beautiful.
"Hey," he said. "Sorry I'm late."
His eyes moved across the room—Briv, Patricia, Dariana, Samuel, Axel—and then landed on Nicola.
The room went very, very still.
"Nicola," Kay said.
"Kay."
Her voice was flat. Controlled. But Briv saw her hands clench at her sides, saw the way her jaw tightened.
It had been two years.
Two years since Kay had left. Two years since he'd walked away from the League, from his friends, from her. Two years since he'd broken her heart in a way that she'd never fully healed from.
And now here he was.
"I didn't know you'd be here," Kay said.
"Same."
"I—" He paused. "It's good to see you."
Nicola didn't respond.
---
The silence stretched, uncomfortable and thick.
Then Dariana stood.
"Well," she said, her voice bright and deliberate, "this is awkward. Should we talk about the blackout now, or would you all prefer to stand here staring at each other for another ten minutes?"
Patricia snorted.
Samuel laughed—a low, warm sound that broke the tension like sunlight through clouds.
"Dariana's right," he said. "We've got bigger problems than old drama."
Kay looked at him.
"And you are?"
"Samuel Moodsway. I'm a friend."
"Of?"
"Of everyone here. Including Nicola." Samuel's voice was mild, but there was steel beneath it. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't make this harder than it needs to be."
Kay blinked.
Then he nodded.
"Fair enough."
---
They talked for hours.
John laid out everything he knew—the Eclipse Squad's movements, their resources, their probable targets. Axel contributed his own intelligence, gathered from sources he didn't name. Briv, Patricia, and Nicola shared what they'd learned from their battles, their encounters, their glimpses into the enemy's plans.
Dariana took notes.
Samuel listened.
And Kay—
Kay sat in the corner, quiet, watchful, his eyes drifting to Nicola more often than they should have.
She noticed.
She always noticed.
---
When the meeting finally broke, it was well past midnight.
Hannah showed them to their rooms—the same rooms they'd stayed in years ago, unchanged except for the dust. Briv found himself in the same bed he'd slept in that summer, staring at the same ceiling, listening to the same wind rattle the same windows.
He couldn't sleep.
He got up, pulled on his jacket, and walked.
---
He found Nicola on the balcony.
She was leaning against the railing, looking out at the dark city, her blond hair loose around her shoulders. She didn't turn when he approached.
"Can't sleep?" Briv asked.
"No."
He stood beside her.
"You okay?"
"I don't know."
Briv waited.
"I thought I was over him," Nicola said. "I thought I'd moved on. I thought—" She laughed, bitter and hollow. "I thought I was better than this."
"You are."
"Then why does it still hurt?"
Briv didn't have an answer.
Neither did she.
---
They stood there in silence, watching the darkness, feeling the weight of everything that had happened and everything that was still to come.
"Briv?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For being here. For not... for not leaving."
Briv turned to look at her.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Nicola met his eyes.
"I know."
She leaned into him—just slightly, just enough—and Briv felt something shift in his chest. Something warm. Something complicated.
Something he didn't want to name.
---
The door to the balcony opened.
Kay stepped out.
"Oh," he said. "Sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"It's fine," Nicola said. Her voice was steady. "We were just talking."
Kay nodded.
He didn't leave.
Briv felt the tension spike—old wounds, old feelings, old resentments all bubbling to the surface.
"I'll go," he said.
"No," Nicola said. "Stay."
Briv stayed.
---
The three of them stood on the balcony, the dark city sprawling beneath them, the stars hidden behind clouds.
"I'm sorry," Kay said.
Nicola didn't look at him.
"For what?"
"For everything. For leaving. For not explaining. For—" He paused. "For being a coward."
"You weren't a coward."
"I was. I am." Kay's voice cracked. "I was scared. Scared of what I felt. Scared of what it meant. Scared of—"
"Of what?"
"Of you."
Nicola turned to look at him.
Kay's eyes were wet.
"I loved you," he said. "I loved you so much it terrified me. And I didn't know how to handle it. So I ran."
The words hung in the air.
Nicola didn't speak.
Briv felt like an intruder—like he was witnessing something private, something sacred—but he couldn't move. Couldn't look away.
"I'm not asking for forgiveness," Kay said. "I'm not asking for anything. I just... I needed you to know."
Nicola closed her eyes.
"I know," she said.
She opened them.
"I've always known."
---
Kay left.
Nicola stayed.
Briv stayed with her.
They didn't speak for a long time—just stood there, side by side, watching the darkness.
Then Nicola said, "I don't know what I feel."
"That's okay."
"I thought I hated him. I thought I never wanted to see him again. But now—"
She stopped.
"Now?" Briv prompted.
"Now I just feel tired. Tired of being angry. Tired of being hurt. Tired of carrying all of this weight."
Briv reached out and took her hand.
She didn't pull away.
"Whatever you decide," he said, "I'm here."
Nicola looked at him.
"I know."
---
The next morning, they gathered in the dining room.
Hannah had made breakfast—eggs and toast and fresh fruit and enough coffee to wake the dead. The table was crowded, the conversation overlapping, the tension from the night before softened by food and sleep and the simple act of being together.
Kay sat at the far end of the table.
Nicola sat at the other.
They didn't look at each other.
But they didn't avoid each other either.
---
"So," John said, "what's the plan?"
Axel set down his coffee.
"We need to hit them back. Hard. Fast. Before they can regroup."
"You know where they are?"
"I have an idea."
"And what do you need from me?"
"Access. Resources. Your research."
John nodded.
"I can give you all of that."
"Then we start today."
---
The group dispersed after breakfast—Briv and Patricia to train, Dariana and Samuel to scout, Nicola and Axel to plan. Kay disappeared into the gardens, his expression unreadable.
Briv found him there an hour later.
He was sitting on a bench, staring at a pond, his hands folded in his lap.
"You okay?" Briv asked.
Kay looked up.
"Not really."
Briv sat beside him.
"You want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
They sat in silence.
Then Kay said, "She hates me."
"She doesn't hate you."
"She should."
Briv didn't argue.
"I don't know what I was thinking," Kay said. "Coming back here. Thinking I could just... fix things. Thinking she'd want to see me."
"You wanted closure."
"Yeah." Kay laughed. "Guess I didn't get it."
Briv looked at him.
"Maybe closure isn't something you get. Maybe it's something you make."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean... you can't change what happened. You can't take back the way you left. But you can decide what happens next."
Kay was quiet.
"You can decide to be better. To do better. To be someone she could trust again—not as a boyfriend, not as anything romantic, but as a friend."
Kay looked at him.
"You really believe that?"
"I believe people can change. I've seen it."
Kay nodded slowly.
"Thanks."
"Don't thank me yet."
---
They trained that afternoon.
Briv worked with Monferno, pushing the fire type harder than he had in weeks. The little Pokémon responded with fire and fury, its flames burning hotter, its strikes landing harder.
Patricia trained with Buneary and Gligar, her movements precise and deliberate.
Dariana worked with Gallade, the psychic-fighting type moving like water, like wind, like something beyond human.
Samuel practiced with Sudowoodo, the rock type's mimicry growing sharper with every repetition.
And Nicola—
Nicola trained alone.
She stood at the edge of the garden, Tangela beside her, and she moved through forms that Briv didn't recognize—something fluid, something violent, something that looked almost like dancing.
He watched her for a long time.
She didn't notice.
---
That night, they gathered for dinner.
The mood was lighter than before—the food was good, the wine was better, and the conversation flowed with an ease that surprised everyone. John told stories about his research. Hannah shared gossip about the neighbors. Dariana made jokes that had Samuel laughing so hard he nearly choked.
Even Nicola smiled.
Even Kay relaxed.
And Briv—
Briv watched it all, feeling something he hadn't felt in a long time.
Hope.
---
After dinner, he found Patricia on the balcony.
She was looking at the stars—they'd finally emerged from behind the clouds, bright and cold and impossibly distant.
"Hey," he said.
She turned.
"Hey."
He stood beside her.
"You okay?"
"Yeah." She smiled. "Just thinking."
"About?"
"About everything. About you. About us."
Briv's heart skipped.
"What about us?"
Patricia looked at him.
"I love you," she said. "I don't say it enough. I should say it more."
Briv's throat tightened.
"I love you too."
She kissed him—soft and warm and full of something that felt like forever.
When she pulled back, her eyes were bright.
"We're going to win," she said. "The League. The Eclipse Squad. All of it. We're going to win."
"How do you know?"
"Because we're together."
Briv smiled.
"Yeah," he said. "We are."
---
The next morning, they said goodbye.
Hannah hugged each of them—even Axel, who looked profoundly uncomfortable—and pressed packages of food into their hands. John shook their hands, one by one, his eyes serious.
"Be careful," he said. "All of you."
"We will," Briv said.
Kay stood at the gate.
He didn't speak.
He just watched as they filed past—Patricia, Dariana, Samuel, Axel, Briv.
And then Nicola.
She paused.
She looked at him.
And for a moment—just a moment—something passed between them.
Not forgiveness.
Not reconciliation.
Just... acknowledgment.
Then she walked on.
Kay watched her go.
Briv watched Kay watch her go.
And he wondered—not for the first time—if some wounds ever truly healed.
---
They walked back through the city in silence.
The towers were still dark. The canals were still. The floating bridges hung motionless above them.
But somewhere in the distance, a light flickered.
Then another.
Then another.
Briv stopped.
"Look," he said.
They all looked.
One by one, the crystal towers were coming back to life—glowing faintly at first, then brighter, then brighter still. The canals began to flow. The bridges began to move.
The city was waking up.
"It's working," Dariana breathed. "The backup systems are holding."
"For now," Axel said.
"For now."
---
They stood there, watching the city come back to life, and Briv felt something swell in his chest.
They'd been beaten down. They'd been broken. They'd been pushed to the edge of everything they knew.
But they were still here.
Still fighting.
Still together.
"We've got a month," he said. "One month until the League."
"And?" Patricia asked.
"And we're not going to waste it."
He turned to face them—his friends, his allies, his family.
"We're going to train. We're going to prepare. We're going to be ready."
He paused.
"And when the time comes, we're going to win."
---
The city hummed around them.
The light was coming back.
And somewhere in the darkness, the Eclipse Squad was watching.
Waiting.
Planning.
But so were they.
---
That night, Briv lay in his bed at the inn, staring at the ceiling.
Monferno slept at his feet. Piplup was curled on the pillow beside him. Riolu and Gible were tangled together on the floor. Shinx and Turtwig were piled in the corner.
His whole team.
His whole life.
He thought about the League. About the Eclipse Squad. About everything that was still to come.
He thought about Patricia.
He thought about Nicola.
He thought about the way she'd looked at him on the balcony—the way she'd leaned into him, the way she'd held his hand.
He thought about what it meant.
He thought about what he wanted it to mean.
And then he closed his eyes and let sleep take him.
Tomorrow would be hard.
Tomorrow would be brutal.
But he'd face it.
He'd face it with everything he had.
Because that was what champions did.
---
The door to his room creaked open.
Briv's eyes snapped open.
A figure stood in the doorway—silhouetted, unsteady, breathing hard.
"Briv?"
It was Nicola.
Her voice was raw, broken, desperate.
"I—I didn't know where else to go."
Briv sat up.
"What happened?"
She stepped into the room, her eyes wild, her hands shaking.
"I can't—I can't stop thinking. About Kay. About everything. About—"
She stopped.
She looked at him.
"I need you," she said.
Briv's heart stopped.
"What?"
"I need you. Not—not like that." She shook her head. "I need... I need someone to hold me. Someone to tell me it's going to be okay. Someone who isn't him."
Briv didn't hesitate.
He opened his arms.
Nicola fell into them.
She cried—deep, wracking sobs that shook her whole body—and Briv held her through all of it. He didn't speak. Didn't offer platitudes. Just held her, warm and solid and present.
After a long time, the sobs faded.
She pulled back.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Anytime."
She looked at him—really looked at him—and something passed between them.
Something complicated.
Something real.
Then she stood, walked to the door, and paused.
"Goodnight, Briv."
"Goodnight, Nicola."
She left.
And Briv lay back down, staring at the ceiling, his heart pounding, his mind racing.
He didn't sleep.
Not for a long time.
But when he finally did, he dreamed of crystal towers and floating bridges and a future that was still waiting to be written.
And somewhere in the darkness, a light was burning.
Small.
Steady.
Unwilling to be extinguished.
---
The Eclipse Squad was coming.
But so were they.
And that made all the difference.
=====