Flint’s expression froze at Myst’s outstretched hand, the easy energy he’d been radiating cooling a notch. He took it slowly, then gave it a shake.

  “Flint—and you are Cynthia’s… what exactly?”

  Myst smiled back coolly. “Myst. Her traveling partner.”

  Flint didn’t let go. His smile, which had dipped at the introduction, crept back. “Oh, her traveling companion, huh? Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

  Cynthia stared at the back of Myst’s head, trying not to make it obvious she was leaning for a glimpse of his face.

  Because…

  It was?

  Wasn’t it?

  It had to be, right?

  The smile tugging at her lips twitched as she tried to hold it in, tried to ignore the flutter in her stomach. She could easily be wrong, God knows she had been before, but still…

  Her gaze flicked to Johanna, whose smile could only be described as carnivorous. Like she’d been politely picking at a salad all evening, only to suddenly be handed a steak.

  And that?

  Well…

  Cynthia looked back to Myst. From behind she couldn’t see his face clearly, but even then he couldn’t hide the slight tension in his posture. The way his presence had sharpened slightly.

  Protective?

  Jealous, even?

  Myst’s glare cut across the space just as Flint’s smile curved cocky.

  …He was, wasn’t he?

  The thought made her pause. Some part of her had considered he might like her. Some part of her had expected it, even.

  It was just—

  Her gaze froze as her eyes landed on his still-outstretched hand, and noticed the faint twitch of strain in Myst’s fingers. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to Flint’s face, only to find a positively wolfish smile waiting there. When he noticed her looking, it shifted smugly, like he’d just won some private contest.

  Cynthia blinked, eyes flicking back down to their clasped hands, before narrowing them.

  Wait, was Flint actually—

  Myst tilted his head.

  “Ehm, not to make it weird, but isn’t a handshake supposed to last, what—one second?”

  He gave an exaggerated look down at their hands.

  “…You know, if you wanted to hold hands, you could’ve just asked.”

  Flint’s smile slipped instantly, color flooding his face as his grip vanished like he’d touched a hot stove.

  “Man, you know what I was doing—” His eyes flicked to Cynthia, and he cut himself off. “I mean, I was just—” He stalled, searching for something, anything, before slumping slightly. “…Nevermind.”

  Johanna strangled a laugh, and at the sound, Flint’s flush deepened. He shuffled back half a step, while beside him, Monferno tilted its head toward the sky, as if silently asking what on earth its trainer was doing.

  Then, before anybody else could say anything, Volkner let out a long-suffering sigh. “Don’t mind him. He’s an idiot, mostly harmless, but still an idiot.”

  Flint’s head snapped toward his friend. “Hey!”

  Volkner didn’t even acknowledge it, already turning back to Myst. He offered his hand, giving it a quick shake before nodding. “And, like I said, I’m Volkner. A…” He paused, glancing toward Cynthia. “…Well, I guess you could say I’m an acquaintance of Cynthia?”

  Cynthia forced her eyes away from Myst, putting her earlier thoughts on hold, and turned to Volkner with a slow nod. “Yeah. It’s been what? A couple of months almost?”

  “More or less…” Volkner paused for a moment, hesitating.

  Cynthia offered an awkward smile.

  Acquaintance—yeah, that was probably the best word for it. She knew him, sort of, but it wasn’t like they were friends. Back when she was prepping for Byron at the start of her journey, he’d been one of the trainers she battled to get ready. They’d talked a little afterward, mostly because he’d asked for a few tips about countering Ground-types, but that was about it.

  Honestly, the only reason she remembered his name at all was a mix of him being, by far, the toughest opponent she’d faced in that stretch… and the fact that, thanks to the whole “starting at the finish line” debacle, his name had ended up compared to hers more than once.

  She glanced toward Flint.

  And now that she thought about it… wasn’t Flint the other name?

  Her eyes lingered on the redhead’s face, surprised to find herself reevaluating him. Something in the way he carried himself had made her half write him off, but if he’d been mentioned alongside Volkner, he couldn’t be that much worse, and—

  Her thoughts ground to a halt as a weight settled across her shoulder.

  The world froze.

  For a single moment, all thoughts vanished.

  All of them replaced by one.

  Myst.

  Leaning against her.

  Arm draped over her.

  “Acquaintance, huh.”

  The words were lazy, almost conversational, and yet she couldn’t seem to register them at all. Slowly, almost robotically, she turned her head, only to find he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were locked on Volkner, one brow raised in silent appraisal.

  Volkner matched the look with an arched brow of his own. “What?”

  Myst glanced at her with a grin, a hint of redness on his cheeks, before his expression evened out. He let his hand drift from her shoulder in an unhurried motion, shrugging.

  “Nothing. I was just trying to place where I’d heard your name before. It was ringing a bell, but—”

  He broke off, a quiet ah slipping past his lips.

  Cynthia, feeling her brain slowly grind back into motion, dragged her gaze toward Volkner—only to find his mouth curved in a wry, almost bitter smile.

  “Oh, yeah. Almost forgot about that…” His eyes flicked toward Flint, who stood there like a question mark, and he sighed. “We’ve been compared to Cynthia a few too many times… if you catch my drift.”

  Flint stared at his friend for a few seconds, before his eyes widened, and he turned back towards Cynthia. “Wait, you’re that Cynthia? The one who got all her Pokémon from her—”

  He stopped himself a fraction too late.

  A beat.

  “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Or, not that I think you—what I mean is—”

  Cynthia plastered on a practiced smile, while Volkner dragged a hand down his face.

  “Flint. How about you stop talking.”

  Flint froze, then shut his mouth with an audible click. He glanced at Cynthia’s expression, winced, and shuffled back a step. “Yeah. Shutting up right now.”

  Volkner sighed again, starting to speak before hesitating, caught somewhere between defending his friend and letting him flounder. The silence stretched, threatening to turn into something else—until Johanna’s snicker cut clean through it. She stepped forward, grinning like she’d been waiting for the chance.

  “Alright, as fun as this is to watch, I actually do have some questions.”

  Volkner turned toward her, relief flickering across his face—only to vanish a moment later in a double take. He studied her for a beat, as if trying to place where he’d seen her before, then shook his head and let it go.

  With a small, circling gesture of his hand, he prompted, “About this whole situation, right?”

  “Yeah,” Johanna said. “I’ve been here around this time before, and it didn’t look anything like this. So what’s going on? Rare Pokémon sighting? Somebody find a mine full of evolution stones?”

  “One can dream,” Volkner said dryly. Then he sighed. “But no, for as much as I would want the reason we are staying here is the discovery of free Thunder Stones, it’s more like we can’t leave.”

  Johanna’s brow arched.

  “Then what? Are you telling me everyone here is stuck because the main tunnel east is blocked by a Pokémon claiming territory or something?” She paused, then shook her head. “Actually, never mind—that’s dumb.” With a sigh, she added, “But seriously, what’s going on?”

  Cynthia tilted her head at that, trying to piece together her own guess. Johanna’s theory was almost certainly wrong. If the time frame had been different she might have guessed something similar, but considering how many weeks people had been stuck here?

  Yeah, there was no way the Rangers responsible for Mount Coronet’s upkeep wouldn’t have stepped in to relocate the offending Pokémon by now. Still… given what Volkner had just said, she couldn’t think of many scenarios that—

  “No, you got it in one.”

  Volkner’s dry voice cut clean through her thoughts.

  Cynthia froze.

  “Not totally right,” he amended with a shrug, “but close enough. It’s not one Pokémon. It’s more like… an entire kingdom planted its flag here.”

  …What.

  “Yeah,” Volkner said, almost wryly, “that’s pretty much how I felt when we first heard it.”

  Myst, looking more or less back to normal, glanced toward the path leading away from the halfway house, one brow lifting. “Okay, I’m clearly missing something. Judging by the faces on Miss Shock,” he nudged Cynthia, “and Miss Horror here”, he nodded toward Johanna, “this is a big deal. But honestly? I’m not seeing it. I thought the Rangers were supposed to handle stuff like this.”

  Flint, who’d been half-pretending that he could turn invisible, perked up at that. Taking a step forward he grinned at Myst, arching an eyebrow like the answer was obvious.

  “Dude, we’ve been stuck here for weeks. If it still isn’t fixed, that means one of two things, either the Rangers haven’t managed to show up, or they haven’t been able to do a damn thing about it. You get one guess which it is.”

  Myst stared at him for a second, then looked back at Cynthia—and paused.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “Oh.”

  His lips pressed into a thin line. He turned back to Flint. “Yeah, okay, considering Miss Shock’s expression hasn’t changed, I’m guessing that based on the time frame the Rangers have yet to show up.”

  Flint nodded.

  Myst licked his lips.

  “And them not being able to fix things is… not good.”

  Everybody nodded.

  Myst’s gaze drifted over the group before falling to his side, where Rei looked up at him with wide eyes, silently asking why the possibility of more fighting was bad. His smile turned faintly bitter.

  Still, as Myst battled his demons, Cynthia slowly reached for her belt, letting one hand stroke Queenie’s Poke ball as she tried to reset.

  Okay. Obviously, the Rangers not being able to fix things was bad, but it wasn’t the end of the world. Considering how much time people had been stuck here there was a good chance the problem would actually solve itself quite fast. After all, it wasn’t like—

  —a loud growl cut through her thoughts.

  Cynthia blinked, then turned toward the sound, just in time to catch Flint frozen mid-smirk, guilty as if he’d been caught mid-crime. His grin collapsed, a flush racing up his ears as Johanna’s low giggle slipped out.

  Before anyone could say a word, he hurriedly began to speak, “Uh—sorry. But, uh… can we maybe… talk about this later?”

  Cynthia kept her expression neutral as his embarrassment deepened into the full dying inside look. Avoiding everyone’s eyes, he rushed on, “Me and Volkner were kinda planning on grabbing dinner right about now, and, uh—”

  He faltered, fumbling for words, until Volkner finally took pity. With a sigh he cut in. “What this idiot is trying to say is that we’re starving. So, if you’re hungry too, why don’t we just eat together? After the second week we couldn’t snag rooms anymore, but today we managed to get a table—and trust me, that’s better than what most people get. I mean, we can talk more about this after, but let us eat first, okay?”

  Cynthia traded a glance with Myst and Johanna, though it was hardly necessary. They’d already planned to eat, and a table easily beat the ground.

  “Sure.”

  ….

  Cynthia rested her elbows on the outdoor table, watching Johanna stir a pot on her portable stove. Beside her, Queenie sprawled as close to the fire as she could manage, while Rei trotted back and forth with ingredients. Navi’s Confusion kept utensils hovering neatly in the air, ready for Johanna’s use.

  It was an odd little system—one Cynthia had slowly grown used to. Of course, while Navi’s help was almost certainly altruistic, Rei’s was… less so. For every berry that made it into the pot, another half vanished mysteriously into her mouth.

  A faint smile tugged at Cynthia’s lips until her gaze slid sideways—and froze. Riolu stood watching Rei with slumped shoulders, his expression balanced somewhere between moral outrage and weary resignation. With every berry Rei swiped seemed to push him closer to speaking up.

  Roselia let out an exaggerated sigh. “Roselia…”

  If that was me…

  Riolu’s head snapped around. “Riolu Riolu!”

  I would be just as conflicted!

  Somehow Roselia managed to look even more skeptical, his narrowed gaze telling a full story without a single word.

  Cynthia shook her head, resting her chin in her hands. As funny as it was to watch Riolu twist himself into justifying the obvious double standard, her thoughts kept circling back to what she wasn’t supposed to ask about yet.

  Rangers failing to solve a problem wasn’t unheard of. Some wild Pokémon were just that dangerous, and sometimes the smartest choice was to let things settle on their own. If someone stirred up a Drapion that ruled a quarter of the Great Marsh, the Rangers might just close off the area until it calmed.

  But closing part of the Great Marsh—that was a choice. One that was made because the Rangers didn’t want to handle it, not because they couldn’t. After all, even if they did close off a part of the Great Marsh it wasn’t like there would be big consequences. At most it would be a temporary setback for the newly formed Safari Zone, nothing more.

  But having something blocking Mount Coronet’s main tunnel?

  Well, that was something else entirely.

  The western half of the mountain might have plenty of paths into the massive hollow where they sat now, but the eastern half had only one main tunnel. If that was blocked it effectively split the west from the east, at least for anyone without a flying license or a death wish. That meant it should have been priority number one for every Ranger in a ten-mile radius. A route this critical should’ve been cleared weeks ago by the local teams. And, if they couldn’t manage it, surely a request for reinforcements would’ve gone out immediately.

  She shifted, propping her head against her thumbs.

  More than anything, the bigger issue was what it meant for their journey. If the Rangers couldn’t solve this, then they certainly couldn’t either. Rangers weren’t average trainers, they were the cream of Sinnoh’s crop, second only to Ace-level professionals. Even the weakest of them was probably stronger than her, with multiple Pokémon at Queenie’s level.

  …And then there was the fact that Flint and Volkner had called it a kingdom.

  She frowned, glancing across the table. Volkner and Flint sat hunched over, both staring at Johanna’s stew like they might start drooling.

  “The Rangers—have you actually met any of them?” she asked.

  Both teenagers froze. But, before either could answer, Myst sighed beside her. “Cynthia.”

  Heat rushed to her cheeks as she remembered how she’d promised not to needle them before dinner. She hurriedly opened her mouth, ready to say they didn’t have to answer—

  The words got stuck in her throat.

  For a few seconds she floundered like a fish out of water while Flint and Volkner tilted their heads at her—before she snapped her mouth shut and pursed her lips.

  She wanted to say they didn’t need to answer, but lying to herself wasn’t really an option… and the truth was she was dying to know.

  Myst raised an eyebrow, a quiet chuckle slipping out. Cynthia shot him a glare in return, then turned back to the boys with her best you don’t need to answer, but I’d very much like it if you did look.

  Volkner and Flint exchanged a glance. Volkner’s shoulders slumped, but when Flint’s expression turned pleading, he sighed and waved him on.

  Flint grinned and leaned forward. “No problem, I can always make time for you…”

  Volkner cleared his throat and Flint instantly hurried on. “But yeah!—they’ve been through three times. First, when they found it. Second, when they said they were almost done. Third, when they realized they weren’t even close.”

  Cynthia felt herself blink. “Wait, they thought they’d fixed it?”

  Flint nodded. “Pretty much. Honestly, that’s part of why we’ve been stuck here so long. Everyone keeps underestimating the whole thing.” He shrugged. “Well, not that we were any different.”

  Beside her, Myst tilted his head. “So, I’m guessing you’ve been up close and personal with this… kingdom?”

  Flint pursed his lips. “Well, okay, I know saying kingdom makes it sound weird, but that’s what people have started calling it. Coronet’s very own Grass-type kingdom. I mean, I don’t even get how—”

  “Wait,” Cynthia cut in. “What do you mean, Grass-type kingdom?”

  Volkner sighed. “Yeah, it does sound stupid, doesn’t it? Honestly, if I hadn’t seen it myself, I wouldn’t believe it either.” He shook his head. “But that’s what’s blocking the tunnel. Not just the tunnel, actually—the whole surrounding area.” He paused, gaze drifting as if recalling the sight. “It’s… crazy. Hundreds of Grass-types, just overrunning everything.”

  “And you know what? That’s not the crazy part,” Flint added, leaning closer and lowering his voice as if afraid someone might overhear. “When we first got here, there was only one other group. They said they couldn’t get through, that the Pokémon just kept repelling them. We figured we’d at least check it out. And at first? Everything looked normal. Rocks and stone as far as the eye could see. Sure, a few more Grass-types than usual, but nothing wild. So we thought those guys just weren’t up to the task and got scared off.”

  He spread his hands wide. “But then more people showed up and got repelled, and we thought—hey, maybe we should try again, just to see what the fuss was about. I mean, not to brag, but me and Volkner? We’re not exactly your average trainers. We figured we’d push through, no problem. But when we got there, we saw…” He trailed off, a grin tugging at his mouth as he shot a challenging look across the table. “Actually, guess.”

  Myst raised a brow. “More Grass-types?”

  Flint grinned, shaking his head. “Close, but no. Try more grass. The whole area around the tunnel we had seen, the rocky ground, the cliffs, everything, it was all just gone. In the span of a week it had turned into a meadow with trees. Like some Legend picked up a forest and just dropped it there.”

  Volkner let out a sigh. “And that’s about when the Rangers started paying attention. At first they didn’t think it was a big deal. Their lead guy said it was probably just one powerful Grass-type terraforming the place, and that he’d fix it in a couple of days, tops. But now?” He shrugged, jerking his chin toward the path leading away from the Halfway-house. “If you go over that hill and keep walking, you’ll already see grass creeping across the ground.”

  “It’s spreading?” Cynthia asked.

  “Yeah. Though it’s slowed down recently…” Volkner trailed off, gaze dropping to the table. “Honestly, I think the Ranger in charge is still underestimating the whole thing. The second time they came around, they told everyone they’d captured the leader—the one supposedly behind the terraforming and rallying all those Grass-types—so without it the problem should resolve itself. But half a week went by, and the terrain had doubled in size, with the Grass-types acting like nothing had changed. So when they showed up a third time, they promised they were going to fix it for real, calling in reinforcements and telling us to just sit tight.” He smiled bitterly, “Though no clue how that’s going, but since the spread slowed, I guess they’re doing something.”

  For a second nobody said anything, and before she could figure out what to ask Myst tapped the table once.

  “You called it a kingdom,” he started slowly. “Does that mean people think there’s some kind of king in control over there?”

  Volkner blinked, as if only just realizing what he’d let slip. “Oh—guess we didn’t mention that huh? Well, since I am guessing you will be checking the place out yourself, I can say this. When you run into the Grass-types, they seem normal at first, but whenever our Pokémon try talking to them, all they do is rant about how we’re ‘invading their majesty’s territory’ and ‘must never return.’ If you don’t turn around fast after that?” He shrugged, “They just attack most of the time, even targeting trainers directly.”

  Cynthia frowned instantly.

  Something about that didn't sit right. Pokémon forming groups wasn't strange, but truly large ones were rare, and nearly always single-species. Only a handful of Pokémon she could think of ever formed true multi-species communities, and none of them were Grass-types. Pokémon just didn't, as far as she knew, build proper societies—much less anything resembling a kingdom.

  More than that though, attacking humans more or less unprovoked?

  She drew in a breath, ready to press Volkner for details—

  A sharp clang cut her off and Cynthia jerked her head around just in time to see Johanna plunk a steaming pot of stew onto the table.

  “Alright, enough doom and gloom!” Johanna declared, beaming as if she hadn’t noticed the slight tension in the air. “Dinner’s ready!”

  Behind her, Rei scrambled up to the table while the newly minted Kirlia slid into a seat beside Myst. Navi waved a hand, both horns glowing, and plates and spoons floated down one after another, settling neatly in place.

  Without hesitation, Rei reached for a plate, only for Myst’s hand to stop her halfway.

  She shot him a frown, but he only lifted an eyebrow.

  “You already ate, didn’t you?”

  Her eyes narrowed to slits, dragging the plate towards her. Myst didn’t budge though, and dragged the plate back to himself.

  For a single second, Cynthia honestly thought she might have to get a new traveling companion as Rei locked eyes with her trainer, ears twitching dangerously. But then, with visible effort, the Buneary gave a sharp huff and sat back, arms crossed.

  Flint barked a laugh, then glanced at Cynthia. “Your Buneary is certainly a character—” He stopped when she made a face, and his eyes flicked to Myst. “Wait—the Buneary is yours?”

  Myst didn’t even pause, sliding a plate in front of Cynthia before nudging the rest of the stack toward Johanna.

  “I mean, yeah?”

  Flint blinked between Rei, Cynthia, and Myst, his grin widening. “No, no, nothing wrong with that. It’s just—no offense, but most guys don’t go for that kind of Pokémon, you know?” His gaze slid toward Johanna, then lit up in sudden realization. “Oh, wait—you’re a Contest trainer, right? That explains it. Buneary fits right in—cute, flashy and able to use a bunch of moves. Probably perfect for the presentation part of the contest, right?”

  Rei’s head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing to slits.

  Cynthia felt herself go still as Myst paused for a single moment, then looked over at Flint.

  “And I am guessing your team is more suited for battles?”

  Flint nodded proudly. “I call myself a Fire-type specialist, but really I just go for anything strong, you know? Anything that leads to victory, that’s my way. Like—”

  With a practiced flick he swept his hand across his belt, and his three Poké Balls all burst open in a flash of red light.

  First came a familiar Monferno, bouncing with restless energy. Then an adorable Magby who almost stole her attention, before it instantly switched when the third Pokémon materialized.

  For a second Cynthia couldn’t help to stare at it, feeling an eyebrow arch.

  A small, balloon-shaped Pokémon drifted upward, its long stringlike arms immediately looping around Flint’s shoulders. He grinned like a fool, hauling it into his lap and ruffling the cottony puff on its head.

  “I used to think Ghost-types were for weaklings, you know? That only tricksters and bad people used them.” He shook his head, grinning at himself. “I know, super immature, but since everyone in my hometown said that shit I just went with it. Then this girl comes along and wipes the floor with me and Monferno using nothing but her Drifloon. And I figured—hey, maybe I should catch one?” He hugged the balloon-like Pokémon close as it wrapped its strings tighter around him. “Best decision I ever made.”

  “Floon!” the Drifloon chimed, its airy voice bubbling with delight as it nuzzled against his chest.

  Myst stared at the sight for a long second, then sighed. “Whatever.” He drew in a breath, then added, “You’re wrong, by the way. I am competing in the circuit.”

  Flint froze mid-pat. “...Ah?”

  Beside him, Volkner—who had just released a Pikachu, Luxio, and Elekid—stopped cold. After a beat, he turned slowly toward Myst, then toward Flint. Then, with a sigh, he pivoted back to his team, muttering instructions to Elekid and Luxio to haul out a portable table.

  Flint’s gaze darted from Rei to Navi, then back to Myst. He winced as Johanna raised an eyebrow from behind her spoon.

  “Okay, my bad, dude. With you sitting next to the current Contest champion and all, I just figured you were her apprentice. I mean, Cynthia’s that good, so you’d probably be good at your own thi—” He cut himself off, groaned, and slapped a hand over his face. “Man, I swear I don’t usually jam my whole leg down my throat like this. I just haven’t eaten in a whi—”

  Myst cut him off.

  “But you really think that a Buneary isn’t suitable for battling?”

  Flint cringed. “Don’t put words in my mouth, man…” He hesitated, glancing down at Rei. “But, I mean—Buneary are kinda famous for being skeptical of people, right? And while I’m sure you two get along great, the elders in my villages always said that wild Pokémon that are skeptical of people will always just be worse—” He winced. “I mean, of course any Pokémon can reach the top levels, I know that, but the elders—” He faltered, mouth working uselessly as he tried to shape the thought into something defensible and failed.

  For a moment, nobody spoke. Cynthia’s eyes slipped to the Drifloon clinging at his hip, then back to him.

  It was strange.

  On one hand, some part of her honestly wanted to punch him the more he talked.

  On the other…

  She tilted her head, frowning slightly. There was something about the way he spoke that felt oddly familiar. It tugged at the edge of her memory, like one of those half-forgotten tidbits her grandmother would mention, only to never bring up again.

  Her gaze drifted to Volkner. He caught her eyes for the briefest moment, offering a thin, sheepish smile. His lips moved as if to speak, then he shook his head.

  She raised a brow at that, but before she could puzzle it out Myst drew a slow breath. He took her bowl, ladled stew into it, slid it back to her—then turned to Flint.

  “How about you show me, then? Since you can’t explain it, let’s just battle.”

  Flint blinked, then straightened, grin snapping back into place. “You know what? Great idea! Hell, I can even show you some tricks to help you out—” He stopped mid-sentence, groaning. “Except we’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

  Myst’s smile didn’t falter, as perfect as a painting. “Perfect. I mean, that just gives you more time to prepare for our lesson, right?”