Chapter 75: Turtwig's Evolution
The message hit Briv like a freight train.
He was standing in the common room of the inn when his phone buzzed. Patricia was beside him, her head on his shoulder, a half-eaten apple in her hand. Nicola was across the table, her feet propped up on a chair, flipping through a training manual. The morning light filtered through the tall windows, catching the dust motes that drifted lazily through the air.
Briv glanced at his phone.
Then he read the words.
NOW, IT'S OFFICIAL. I FUCKED ALL 3: NICOLA, PATRICIA, AND DARIANA.
The apple fell from Patricia's hand.
The room went silent.
Briv didn't move.
His eyes stayed fixed on the screen, reading the message again. Then a third time. The words didn't change. They stayed there, black on white, permanent and undeniable.
Patricia's face went pale.
The training manual had slipped from Nicola's fingers and hit the floor with a soft thud.
Briv's thumb hovered over the screen, still holding the phone in front of him like it might explode.
Then he spoke.
"What the fuck is this?"
His voice was quiet.
Too quiet.
"Briv—" Patricia started.
"What the fuck is this?"
Louder now.
He read it again. Aloud.
"Now, it's official. I fucked all three."
He looked up.
Patricia's eyes shimmered.
Nicola had gone rigid.
"When did this happen?"
"Briv, listen—"
"Answer the question."
"Yesterday. The day before. I don't know. It was before we met. Before—"
"Before what?"
Patricia didn't answer.
Briv stood up.
The chair scraped against the floor.
He walked toward the door.
"Briv—"
He didn't turn.
He didn't say goodbye.
He just left.
---
The training grounds outside Aethelburg were quiet this early in the morning.
Briv stood in the center of the field, his hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the far horizon. The city's crystal towers glinted in the distance. The floating bridges hummed faintly overhead. The canals glittered like veins of silver.
None of it mattered.
He reached for a Pokéball.
"Turtwig. Let's go."
Turtwig materialized in a flash of green light, its sturdy body hitting the ground with a determined thud. The little Grass-type looked up at Briv, its tiny yellow sprout swaying, its eyes bright and eager.
"Training," Briv said.
Turtwig nodded.
No hesitation.
No questions.
Briv picked up a rock from a pile near the field's edge. He set it up on a post at the far end of the field. Then he picked up another. And another.
By the time he was done, there were six rocks lined up in a row, each one balanced on a wooden stake.
"You see those?"
Turtwig nodded.
"I want you to hit every single one. Razor Leaf. Don't stop until they're all down. Then we run the field. Twice."
Turtwig's eyes widened.
It was a lot.
But it didn't hesitate.
It turned to face the targets.
---
"Razor Leaf!"
Turtwig's head whipped forward and a barrage of sharp leaves shot out.
The first rock cracked.
The second one split in half.
The third one wobbled but held.
"Again!"
Another volley.
The third rock shattered.
The fourth one held.
"Again!"
Turtwig's breathing was getting heavier.
But it didn't stop.
Leaves flew.
Rocks broke.
"Faster!"
The fifth rock exploded.
The sixth one stood firm.
Turtwig's legs were shaking.
"AGAIN!"
The sixth rock shattered.
Turtwig stood in the middle of the field, its chest heaving, its eyes burning with something fierce and stubborn and proud.
"Run the field," Briv said.
Turtwig ran.
---
Briv watched it go.
His hands were still in his pockets.
His jaw was tight.
He hadn't slept. He hadn't eaten. He'd spent the whole night turning the words over in his head, trying to make sense of them, trying to find some angle where they didn't cut as deep.
He couldn't.
Not with Patricia.
He had loved her for two years. He had built a life around her. He had imagined a future—League titles, family, growing old together. He'd told her things he'd never told anyone.
And she had fucked Malcolm Vane.
Before we met.
The rational part of his brain understood.
The rest of him didn't care.
---
Nicola came to the field first.
She stood at the edge of the training ground, her arms crossed, her sharp brown eyes watching him with something that might have been guilt or pity or both. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, and her face was bare. She looked tired.
"Briv."
He didn't turn.
"Briv, look at me."
He didn't.
"I know you're angry."
"Angry doesn't cover it."
"Then what does?"
He turned.
His eyes were red.
His hands were shaking.
"Patricia," he said. "I can understand Patricia. She was the first. She was before me. It was a mistake. She was hurt. She was looking for something. I can—" He stopped. Breathed. "I can maybe understand Patricia."
He looked at her.
"But you?"
Nicola's jaw tightened.
"The message says all three. That means you, too. That means you fucked him. You. My—" He stopped again. "What are we, Nicola? What the hell are we?"
She didn't answer.
"We've been sleeping together for months. You told me things you never told anyone. You let me in. You let me—"
"I know."
"Then why?"
"It happened before we started."
"Bullshit."
"It's not bullshit."
"He said yesterday."
"He said the message was sent yesterday. The sex wasn't."
Briv stared at her.
"You're defending him?"
"No. I'm explaining."
"I don't want an explanation."
"Then what do you want?"
He didn't answer.
Turtwig came running back across the field, its legs still moving, its breath still heavy. It stopped beside Briv and looked up at him, waiting for the next command.
Briv put a hand on its head.
"Keep running," he said.
Turtwig ran.
---
Nicola stayed.
She didn't speak.
She just watched.
Briv pulled out another Pokéball.
"Luxio. Riolu. Front and center."
The two Pokémon materialized in flashes of blue and black light. Luxio stretched, its star-tipped tail flicking, its yellow eyes sharp and alert. Riolu bounced on its heels, its aura-sensing ability already reading the tension in the air.
"Agility drills. Both of you. Around the field. Ten laps."
They ran.
---
Patricia came next.
She stood at the opposite edge of the field, her blond hair loose around her shoulders, her blue eyes red-rimmed. She was holding her hands in front of her, twisting her fingers together, and she looked like she might cry.
Briv didn't look at her.
He kept his eyes on the field.
Turtwig was on its third lap. Luxio and Riolu were on their fifth.
"Briv," Patricia said. "Please."
His jaw tightened.
"I'm not going to apologize for something that happened before we were together."
"Then why are you here?"
"Because I love you."
He turned.
"You love me?"
"Yes."
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
She didn't answer.
"Two years, Patricia. Two years, and you never said a word. You let me think—" He stopped. Breathed. "You let me think I was the only one."
"You were."
"No. I wasn't."
"That's not what I meant."
"Then say what you mean."
She stepped closer.
"I was with Malcolm before we met. Before I knew you. Before I knew what love was. He was a mistake. A terrible one. But it was before. It was over. And when I met you, I—"
"You decided I didn't need to know."
"I decided it didn't matter."
"It matters now."
"I know."
She was crying.
He hated that.
He hated that it made him want to hold her.
"Go home, Patricia."
"No."
"Go home."
"I'm not leaving you."
"You already did."
Her face crumpled.
He turned away.
Turtwig was on its fifth lap. Its legs were shaking. Its breath was ragged. But it kept running.
---
Dariana came last.
She didn't say anything.
She just walked to the center of the field and stood beside him.
Her hair was loose. Her dark eyes were hollow. She was wearing a hoodie that was too big for her—Patricia's, probably—and her hands were shoved into the pockets.
She didn't look at him.
He didn't look at her.
They stood in silence.
Turtwig ran.
Luxio and Riolu finished their laps and collapsed in the grass.
"Thor," Briv said. "Gible. You're up."
The two Pokémon materialized.
"Obstacle course. Twenty minutes. No stopping."
They ran.
---
Dariana spoke first.
"It wasn't his idea."
Briv didn't respond.
"It was mine."
He turned.
"What?"
"The challenge. The rematch. I went to him. I found him at the train station. I told him I wanted another battle."
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to understand him."
"And did you?"
She didn't answer.
"What happened, Dariana?"
"I lost."
"And then?"
"And then he—"
She stopped.
Her hands were shaking.
Briv's expression shifted.
The anger was still there.
But something else crept in.
Something colder.
"He didn't just beat you."
She shook her head.
"He—"
"Don't," she said. "Don't make me say it."
Briv was quiet.
Turtwig was on its seventh lap.
"He held me down," Dariana whispered. "He fucked me against the wall. He made me suck his cock. He came in my mouth and told me to swallow."
Briv's hands curled into fists.
"And then he sent the message."
"He's dead."
"Briv—"
"He's fucking dead."
"Stop it."
"Where is he?"
"He's gone. He left. On the train."
"Then I'll find him."
"Briv, no."
He turned on her.
"Why not?"
"Because he wants this. He wants you to lose control. He wants to see you break."
"I don't care."
"Then you're already broken."
He stared at her.
She stared back.
Turtwig ran.
---
The sun climbed higher.
The city hummed.
The training ground was silent except for the sound of footsteps and breathing.
Briv called Turtwig to the center of the field.
"One more drill," he said. "Then we're done."
Turtwig nodded.
It was exhausted.
Its legs were shaking.
Its eyes were drooping.
But it stood.
"Energy Ball."
Turtwig's head bowed.
It had never used Energy Ball before.
"Focus. Gather the energy. Release it."
Turtwig tried.
A tiny glow formed at its mouth.
It flickered.
It died.
"Again."
Another try.
Another flicker.
Another failure.
"Again."
Turtwig collapsed.
Briv caught it.
---
He knelt in the grass and cradled the little Pokémon in his arms.
Turtwig's eyes fluttered open.
It looked up at him.
It was tired.
It was hurt.
It was still trying.
"I'm sorry," Briv whispered. "I'm pushing too hard."
Turtwig shook its head.
It struggled to stand.
Briv held it still.
"Rest."
Turtwig shook its head again.
It pushed against his hands.
It stood.
It faced the field.
---
Briv stared at it.
Turtwig's body was trembling. Its legs barely held. But it was standing. It was facing the empty field like there was still something to fight.
And then something changed.
A glow.
Soft at first.
Green and gold.
It started at Turtwig's shell and spread outward.
The light grew.
It brightened.
It swallowed the field.
---
Briv stepped back.
The glow intensified.
Turtwig's silhouette began to shift. Its body stretched. Its shell widened. Its sprout elongated and twisted, hardening into something thicker, something stronger.
The light peaked.
Then faded.
And when Briv opened his eyes, Grotle stood before him.
The Grove Pokémon.
Larger now. Heavier. Its shell had grown, thick and green, with a twisted tree sprouting from its back. Its legs were shorter but sturdier. Its head was lower, its jaw stronger.
It looked at Briv.
Its eyes were the same.
Determined.
Stubborn.
Loyal.
Briv stared at it.
Then he laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because he didn't know what else to do.
Grotle rumbled.
A low, deep sound.
Almost like a laugh.
Briv knelt and put his hand on its head.
"You did it," he said. "You actually did it."
Grotle closed its eyes.
The morning sun broke through the clouds.
---
Patricia and Nicola and Dariana watched from the edge of the field.
None of them spoke.
Briv stood and turned to face them.
His expression hadn't softened.
But it had changed.
The anger was still there.
But there was something else now.
Something quieter.
"I'm not going to forget what happened," he said. "I'm not going to pretend it's okay. But I'm not going to let him win."
He looked at each of them.
"He wants us torn apart. He wants us fighting each other. He wants us broken."
He paused.
"I'm not going to give him that."
Patricia's eyes widened.
Dariana stared.
Nicola nodded.
Slowly.
"Then what do we do?" Patricia asked.
Briv looked at Grotle.
Grotle looked back.
"We get stronger," he said. "All of us. Every single day. Until none of us ever loses again."
He turned and walked toward the city.
Grotle followed.
The three women watched him go.
And then, one by one, they followed too.
=====
The city swallowed them whole.
Aethelburg's morning bustle rose around them like a tide—vendors hawking berries from floating carts, trainers arguing over battle strategies on street corners, the distant hum of the monorail threading between crystal towers. None of it touched them. They walked in silence, four figures moving through the crowd like ghosts who hadn't decided if they wanted to be seen.
Briv led.
Grotle walked beside him, its heavy footsteps thudding against the cobblestones. The new weight in its body hadn't fully settled yet. Every few steps, it would stumble slightly, still learning the mechanics of its evolved form.
Briv noticed.
He didn't slow down.
---
They reached the inn by mid-morning.
Briv pushed through the door and headed straight for the stairs. He didn't look at the common room, didn't acknowledge the other trainers scattered at tables, didn't respond to the innkeeper's greeting.
Patricia moved to follow.
Nicola caught her arm.
"Give him space."
Patricia's jaw tightened.
"I've given him space. He's had space. He needs—"
"He needs to process."
"He needs me."
"No." Nicola's voice was flat. "He needs to hit something."
Patricia stared at her.
Then she pulled her arm free and walked to a table in the corner.
Nicola followed.
Dariana stayed by the door.
---
She hadn't spoken since the training ground.
She hadn't eaten.
She hadn't slept.
Her hoodie was still pulled tight around her shoulders, the sleeves swallowed past her wrists. She looked smaller than she was. Diminished.
Nicola glanced at her.
"Sit down."
Dariana didn't move.
"Dariana."
"I can't."
"You can."
"I can't."
Nicola stood and crossed the room.
She grabbed Dariana's wrist and pulled her toward the table.
Dariana stumbled.
She didn't resist.
---
They sat.
Patricia ordered tea. Nobody drank it.
The common room buzzed around them—laughter, conversations, the clink of plates. It felt obscene. Like the world hadn't noticed that something had cracked.
Patricia broke first.
"I should have told him."
Nicola didn't disagree.
"I should have told him two years ago."
"You should have."
Patricia's eyes flashed.
"Don't."
"I'm not judging. I'm agreeing."
"Then agree quietly."
Nicola leaned back.
"Fine."
Silence.
Then Dariana.
"I should have told him before I went to Malcolm."
Both women looked at her.
"I knew what he was. I knew what he'd done. I went anyway."
"Why?" Patricia asked.
"Because I thought I could win."
"And when you didn't?"
Dariana's hands tightened around her cup.
"He took what he wanted."
The words hung there.
Nobody spoke.
---
Briv came downstairs an hour later.
He'd showered. Changed clothes. His hair was still damp, and his eyes were still red, but something in his posture had shifted. The coiled tension was still there—but it had direction now.
He walked to their table.
"Training grounds," he said. "One hour. All of you."
Patricia looked up.
"Briv—"
"One hour. Bring your teams."
He turned and walked out.
---
They met at the eastern fields—a sprawling stretch of open ground just inside the city walls, marked by faded battle lines and ringed with observation posts. A few other trainers were scattered across the space, running drills, testing combinations, shouting commands.
Briv claimed the far end.
He released his full team.
Monferno. Prinplup. Grotle. Luxio. Gible. Riolu.
Six Pokémon.
Six sets of eyes.
All of them looked at him.
"Today we train," Briv said. "Tomorrow we train. Every day until the League, we train. No days off. No excuses."
Monferno's tail blazed brighter.
Prinplup stood straighter.
Grotle rumbled.
"We're going to run combinations. We're going to drill until your bodies know what to do before your minds catch up. We're going to be relentless."
He paused.
"Because the world is relentless. And if we're not ready, it will eat us alive."
---
The next two hours were brutal.
Briv ran Monferno through agility drills until its legs shook. He pushed Prinplup through water attacks until its flippers ached. He had Grotle practice Energy Ball until the move came without thought.
None of them complained.
None of them stopped.
---
The stranger arrived without fanfare.
He was older—maybe thirty, maybe thirty-five. Lean build, weathered face, a canvas jacket stained with old dirt and older sweat. He carried a single Pokéball in his right hand, rolling it between his fingers like a coin.
He stopped at the edge of Briv's training ground.
"Mind if I watch?"
Briv didn't look up.
"Free country."
The stranger smiled.
"Name's Corin. I've been training on these fields for years. Never seen anyone push their team this hard."
"Good."
Corin tilted his head.
"Good?"
"Means you haven't seen anyone serious."
---
Corin laughed.
It was a warm sound. Genuine.
"I like you."
Briv didn't respond.
"I'm serious. You've got fire. Most trainers these days—" He waved a hand vaguely. "They're soft. They want the League, but they don't want the work."
"And you do?"
"I've done it. Twelve years. Four Leagues. Never won."
"Why not?"
"Because I wasn't good enough."
Briv finally looked at him.
"Then why are you here?"
Corin shrugged.
"Because I love it."
He rolled the Pokéball across his knuckles.
"I still train every day. I still push my team. I still believe that one day—maybe—I'll find the edge I've been missing."
Briv studied him.
"Want to test that theory?"
Corin's eyes lit up.
"Three-on-three?"
"Three-on-three."
"Standard rules?"
"No substitutions. No items."
"Deal."
Briv turned and called his team.
---
The observation posts had spectators now.
A handful of trainers had drifted over, drawn by the commotion. Word traveled fast on the eastern fields—a serious trainer, a real challenge, something worth watching.
Axel appeared at the edge of the crowd.
He didn't announce himself. He didn't ask permission. He simply walked to the center of the field and stood between the two trainers.
"I'll referee."
Briv nodded.
Corin shrugged.
"Fine by me."
Axel's green eyes flicked between them.
"Send out your first Pokémon."
---
Corin moved first.
"Skarmory."
The ball opened in a flash of silver light and Skarmory materialized on the field. The Armor Bird Pokémon gleamed like polished steel, its blade-like wings catching the morning sun, its fierce yellow eyes scanning its opponent with cold precision.
Briv responded.
"Monferno."
Monferno erupted onto the field in a burst of orange flame, its tail blazing, its blue facial markings vivid against the pale sky. It cracked its knuckles, rolled its neck, and grinned at Skarmory with a confidence bordering on arrogance.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Monferno moved first.
"Flame Wheel!"
Monferno curled into a ball and ignited, rolling forward like a comet.
Skarmory dodged.
Easily.
"Skarmory—Air Cutter!"
Skarmory's wings swept forward and a blade of compressed air sliced through the space where Monferno had been.
Monferno twisted mid-roll and avoided it by inches.
"Close Combat!"
Monferno exploded out of its roll, fists flying.
Skarmory couldn't dodge in time.
The first punch connected.
Then the second.
Then the third.
Skarmory screeched.
It tumbled backward.
But it didn't fall.
"Skarmory—Steel Wing!"
Skarmory's wings hardened with metallic energy and it lunged forward.
The attack caught Monferno across the chest.
Monferno flew backward.
It hit the ground hard.
It didn't fall.
"Monferno—Flamethrower!"
A torrent of fire erupted from Monferno's mouth.
Skarmory couldn't avoid it.
The flames washed over its steel body, heating the metal to a dull glow.
Skarmory shrieked.
It fell.
"Skarmory is unable to battle," Axel said. "Monferno wins."
---
Corin recalled Skarmory.
His expression didn't change.
"Not bad," he said.
"I know," Briv replied.
Corin drew his second ball.
"Mr. Mime."
Mr. Mime materialized in a flash of pink light, its humanoid form striking against the training field's muted tones. It moved with theatrical grace, its fingers twitching, its eyes darting, its mouth fixed in a painted smile that didn't reach its eyes.
Monferno growled.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Corin moved first.
"Mr. Mime—Psychic!"
A wave of psychic energy shot forward.
Monferno couldn't dodge.
He was lifted into the air and slammed back down.
He grunted.
He stood.
"Monferno—Mach Punch!"
Monferno shot forward faster than the eye could track.
The punch connected with Mr. Mime's chest.
Mr. Mime staggered.
It didn't fall.
"Mr. Mime—Psybeam!"
A beam of psychic energy erupted from Mr. Mime's body.
It struck Monferno dead-center.
Monferno cried out.
He fell.
"Monferno is unable to battle," Axel said. "Mr. Mime wins."
---
Briv recalled Monferno.
He whispered to the ball.
"You did good."
He clipped it to his belt.
"Prinplup."
Prinplup materialized in a flash of blue light, its proud posture unshaken, its flippers held at its sides. It looked at Mr. Mime with cold disdain.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Prinplup moved first.
"Metal Claw!"
Prinplup's flippers hardened with metallic energy and it lunged forward.
Mr. Mime tried to dodge.
Too slow.
The attack connected.
Mr. Mime tumbled backward.
"Mr. Mime—Thunderbolt!"
A bolt of lightning erupted from Mr. Mime's body.
It struck Prinplup.
Prinplup cried out.
It didn't fall.
"Prinplup—Water Pulse!"
A ring of water shot forward.
It struck Mr. Mime.
Mr. Mime shrieked.
"Mr. Mime—Psychic!"
Prinplup was lifted into the air.
It was slammed back down.
It stood.
"Prinplup—Brine!"
A torrent of saltwater erupted from Prinplup's beak.
It struck Mr. Mime.
Mr. Mime collapsed.
"Mr. Mime is unable to battle," Axel said. "Prinplup wins."
---
Corin recalled Mr. Mime.
His smile widened.
"Now we're getting somewhere."
He drew his third ball.
"Beautifly."
Beautifly materialized in a flash of green and purple light, its delicate wings fluttering against the morning air. It was beautiful—fragile-looking, almost ethereal. But its eyes held a cold intelligence.
Prinplup didn't flinch.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Corin moved first.
"Beautifly—Bug Buzz!"
A wave of sonic energy shot forward.
Prinplup couldn't dodge.
The attack struck its body.
Prinplup staggered.
It didn't fall.
"Prinplup—Ice Beam!"
A beam of frost shot from Prinplup's beak.
It struck Beautifly's wing.
Beautifly wobbled.
It didn't fall.
"Beautifly—Energy Ball!"
A sphere of green energy formed between Beautifly's wings and shot forward.
It struck Prinplup.
Prinplup collapsed.
"Prinplup is unable to battle," Axel said. "Beautifly wins."
---
Briv recalled Prinplup.
He didn't whisper this time.
He just clipped the ball to his belt.
"Grotle."
Grotle stepped forward.
The ground shook.
---
The crowd murmured.
Grotle was new. Freshly evolved. Untested in battle.
But it moved with purpose.
It stood across from Beautifly like a mountain facing a butterfly.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Briv moved first.
"Grotle—Energy Ball!"
A sphere of green energy formed in Grotle's mouth.
It shot forward.
Beautifly dodged.
Barely.
"Beautifly—Bug Buzz!"
A wave of sonic energy shot forward.
Grotle didn't dodge.
The attack struck its shell.
Grotle didn't flinch.
"Grotle—Razor Leaf!"
A storm of leaves erupted from Grotle's back.
Beautifly tried to dodge.
It couldn't dodge all of them.
Leaves sliced across its wings.
Beautifly shrieked.
It fell.
But it didn't stay down.
"Beautifly—Energy Ball!"
Another sphere of green energy.
It struck Grotle's face.
Grotle grunted.
It didn't fall.
"Grotle—Energy Ball!"
This time the sphere was bigger.
Brighter.
It shot forward like a cannonball.
It struck Beautifly dead-center.
Beautifly hit the ground.
It didn't move.
"Beautifly is unable to battle," Axel said. "Grotle wins. Briv wins the match."
---
The crowd applauded.
Corin recalled Beautifly and walked across the field. He was smiling.
"That was clean," he said.
Briv nodded.
"You're good."
"I know."
Corin laughed.
"Still not good enough for the League?"
Briv hesitated.
"Maybe this year."
"I hope so."
He extended his hand.
Briv shook it.
---
Axel stepped forward.
"Good battle."
Briv looked at him.
"Thanks."
Axel's eyes flicked to Grotle.
"That's new."
"Evolved this morning."
"Strong."
"Getting there."
Axel nodded.
Then he turned and walked away.
---
The crowd dispersed.
Briv recalled Grotle and stood alone in the center of the field.
Patricia approached.
Nicola followed.
Dariana stayed back.
Briv didn't turn.
"That was good," Patricia said.
"Thanks."
"You're getting stronger."
"Trying."
She stepped closer.
"Briv—"
"Not now."
She stopped.
"I just wanted to say—"
"Later."
She nodded.
She turned and walked away.
---
Nicola stayed.
She stood beside him.
"You're still angry."
"Yes."
"At me?"
He didn't answer.
"At Patricia?"
He didn't answer.
"At Dariana?"
He turned.
"At Malcolm."
She nodded.
"Good."
He looked at her.
"Good?"
"Anger is fuel. Use it."
She turned and walked away.
---
Dariana was last.
She didn't approach.
She just stood at the edge of the field, her hoodie still pulled tight, her dark eyes fixed on the ground.
Briv looked at her.
She looked up.
Neither spoke.
Then Briv walked toward her.
He stopped a few feet away.
"I don't blame you," he said.
She blinked.
"What?"
"I don't blame you."
"He—"
"I blame him."
She stared.
"I should have—"
"You shouldn't have done anything."
She swallowed.
"Briv—"
"I don't blame you."
He turned and walked toward the city.
Grotle followed.
Dariana stood alone.
Then she followed too.
---
The sun was setting by the time they reached the inn.
The city glowed with evening light, the crystal towers burning gold and rose against the darkening sky. The canals shimmered. The bridges hummed.
Briv stopped at the door.
He turned.
His team stood behind him.
Patricia. Nicola. Dariana.
Grotle.
Monferno.
Prinplup.
Luxio.
Gible.
Riolu.
He looked at them.
All of them.
"We're not done," he said. "We're not even close to done."
He pushed through the door.
They followed.