The rest of Aria’s scouting shift was uneventful. As far as she was concerned, it was the only blessing she’d be receiving today.

Tension gripped her body like a vise as she approached the village she called home, much of its tranquility undone by the anxious murk roiling around in her mind. It was the one place she felt truly safe in the entire world—it used to be that place, at least. Now, it felt just that bit more alien, just that bit more unwelcoming.

None of that was aimed at her, but that didn’t make it any better.

As difficult as it was, as much as a part of her wanted to kidnap Anne from her bed and run away from it all in a doomed, erratic impulse to keep her safe, she knew she had to push on. Push on, talk with her, escort her over to the Elders’ meeting,

And do her best to argue that Anne’s inherent worth as a living being outweighed any security risks, real or imagined.

Her feet hovered half an inch above the snow as she glided through the increasingly vacant streets. In her mind, a constant refrain to keep breathing. Such a basic, downright trivial thing, and it still helped. Whether it would help enough remained to be seen. The village being almost completely dark made it all even worse.

Too late for many day dwellers to still be around, too early for most of their nocturnal inhabitants to be awake. A limbo of dark silence and scattered lights peeking out of the closed burrows and huts. Would they extend their comfort to the little human that needed them the most? Only one way to find out.

“Evening, Aria,” a familiar voice greeted. The Gardevoir felt her body jolt as it turned to face it before she could even think; the faint glow around her eyes soon dispelled at realizing who it was as they chuckled, “Good gods, you’re stressed, eh?”

“I... yes, yes I am, Geiger.”

His smile wasn’t a sight many were privy to, but his students, be they current or former, always got that privilege. As tense as the situation was, he didn’t hesitate waving her over to the tea corner’s doorway, the alluring scents coming from the inside encouraging her further.

The Magnemite she’d seen yesterday was still attached to his arm, asleep.

“I-I don’t know if I have the time,” Aria whispered.

“One of those old coots is gonna be late anyway; don’t worry about it Aria. Besides—you look like you’d use a heartwarming drink much more than any value anyone else might get out of getting it all wrapped up a few minutes sooner. Sounds like that whole vote is gonna go well into the night either way.”

She didn’t necessarily disagree with the Electivire, but it still felt... disrespectful. Then again, considering that several of the people she’d once respected felt it appropriate to disrespect Anne’s personhood, she could repay them in kind, at least a bit. “...Alright.”

“There ya go!”

With his once-student agreeing to a detour, Geiger thought it best to bring a drink to her instead of having her do it herself. Beyond his snark, she was right—the sooner she got there, the better. She wasn’t gonna do any good in this anxious of a state, though, and a warm, sweet tea was one way he could help with that.

After finding her hands too shaky to hold the cup upright, the Gardevoir switched to telekinesis instead. Even her all-too-familiar white glow wasn’t as stable as she wished it was, but it was thankfully enough to keep any tea from spilling.

“So... how’s it all looking?” the Electivire asked.

With her mouth busy sipping at the hot drink, Aria switched back to telepathy, “^I wish I could say ‘well’, but I’m really unsure. None of the Elders look encouraging, I have no idea if anyone against her staying is even open to any arguments to the contrary... and to make it all worse, Cypress got attacked by a human trainer earlier.^”

That last remark in particular caught the Electivire’s attention, making him glance over at her mid-sip. “Unfortunate. Just an attack of aggression, an attempt at catching her, or something else?”

“^I think they were trying to catch her, but Cypress’ recollection of it all was limited.^”

“Does it make you worry she’ll be so soured by that experience she’ll argue against the girl getting to stay here?”

Aria flinched at the pointed question, especially with her answer being so ugly. “^I-I wish I could say that I don’t, but... I can’t. She’s been wonderful and a great help looking after Anne, but the way she described that ‘ball’ she was in, and with the trainer’s mon hurting her so badly... I don’t know. I trust her, I want to trust her, b-but—^”

“I get it, don’t worry.”

The reassurance only did so much to wash the worst of her fear out of Aria’s mind, but it was better than nothing.

“^I know I shouldn’t be—^”

“No, I really get it, Aria. I don’t blame you one bit. Fear makes monsters of us all, including in our imaginations. All I can hope for is that after all is said and done, you’ll be able to look back at those fears and see them for the absurdities that they are.”

She nodded flatly in response, feeling just that bit colder on the inside.

“Not like any threat I used to teach you about, eh?”

The remark sparked the most pitiful of smiles on her face, fueled further by another sip of the sweet tea. Indeed, nothing like anything else the Electivire had taught her. Nothing like anything he could have ever taught her. “^It’s so much worse.^”

“Sounds like it.”

“^B-because it’s not just some distant shapeless humanity or wild predators, it’s... us. We’re the ones doing it to someone; we’re the ones hurting someone much weaker than ourselves because of misplaced fear and prejudice. How do you even fight that?^”

Uncertain silence surrounded them for a few seconds as Geiger finished his swig, stretching slightly afterwards. “As far as I’m concerned, same as always. That’s something I drilled into you all a ton—”

“^Yes, yes... acknowledge it, measure it, mitigate it.^”

“I’ve been pedantic to hell about these for a reason—because they work. Worked for me back in my old life, works here too.”

“^I know, I know. I’ve been doing these as much as I can, trying to reach people that are likely to vote against her, but what if it’s just not enough? What if I do everything I possibly could to keep her safe, to sway others, and they still decree that she should be left behind?^”

Despite all the worst-case scenario plans she’d been trying to set for herself, despite all the promises, that fateful question did not get any less harrowing to consider. And while Geiger wasn’t aware of anything the Gardevoir had done to prepare herself for that scenario... he still suspected it. “Something tells me you already have something in mind for it—mitigated it at least somewhat.”

No immediate response beyond further pensiveness. He wasn’t ever the biggest one for physical affection, but if there was any opportunity to use it for good, it was here. Keeping himself as restrained as he could, Geiger patted Aria’s shoulder a few times, startling her out of staring at the tea leaves at the bottom of her cup and almost toppling her over. “Ahaha, my bad,” he chuckled. “I meant it, though. I know you have a plan Aria, you’re too smart not to.”

The compliment worked a bit better, forcing a weak smile and a deep breath as the Gardevoir tried to mentally reset herself. He was right; she had a plan—but it was a woefully vague plan. “^Right. I talked with Anne this morning, confessed to everything that’s going on. I... I made a promise to her. A promise that no matter what happens, she’ll be safe. Even if it takes my entire family having to leave to ensure so.^”

A firm nod from the Electivire—continue.

“^It’s something, but... I haven’t even told Garret or Marco. What if it really comes to pass? What if we have to risk running into the wilderness again just to keep her safe from the village? It’s one thing to claim that, another thing to mean it—and I do mean it—but what if brings danger to the rest of my family?^”

It was a question without an answer, and both of them were well aware. There was a place for acknowledging, measuring, and mitigating, but when it came to running for someone’s life, the time to carefully plan out one’s next step was a luxury rarely afforded.

Fortunately, it wasn’t as bad as the Gardevoir feared it would be, either.

“If it really comes to it, if you have to run to keep her safe... then I can guarantee you won’t be the only one leaving,” Geiger reassured. The implications were clear and yet no less shocking; Aria’s eyes went wide as she stared at the Electric-type, making him chuckle, “Hah, what’s so surprisin’? I stayed here for a reason, after all. I know my strength, I know that if it came to it, I would be entirely alright on my own in these woods, if forced to resort to predation.”

He wasn’t done yet, still holding the psychic’s attention despite the morbid tangent.

“Back all those years ago, when I first stumbled here, when I first spoke with Orion... I saw a spark in him. A vision to really make this place something so much larger than the sum of its parts, so much greater than what any of us could do alone. And if it turns out said vision has now entirely rotted into the same kind of cruelty-by-committee that humanity is so fond of, I don’t want to be a part of it any longer.”

The frank admission took a while to finish worming itself into Aria’s mind. Once it did, though, it made her feel a bit lighter. There was still the inherent horror of so many people being indirectly forced to abandon their homes because of someone else’s cruelty, one she loathed to inflict on anyone else, or even rhetorically nudge in that direction.

When it came entirely from them, it was almost bearable.

“^That’s... incredibly kind of you, Geiger,^” she whispered.

“No, it’s not.”

A lifted eyebrow above a worried expression conveyed the Gardevoir’s concerns wordlessly, and the Electric-type didn’t hesitate to elaborate, “It’s mighty kind of you, Aria. You’re the one putting your family on the line, first and foremost. I’ve been here for a while, but I have little in the way of earthly attachments. I could get up, run behind the horizon, and only a few people would ever really notice I left. Don’t thank me, take pride in yourself for taking a stand.”

She didn’t know what to say in response. In a way, she supposed her actions were admirable—but they were also thoughtless, sticking with her most basic impulses come hell or high water. Just because they were basic, it didn’t mean they weren’t correct, though. “^I suppose. It just feels incredibly rash—^”

“Justice being rash doesn’t make it any less just.”

“^Right. Well, thank...^” Aria trailed off. As she chewed through their exchange, a memory from yesterday evening crept back into her mind, providing some much-needed levity in the tense situation. She teased, “^I think there is someone who would notice you’re gone. And that same someone would just so happen to leave with me if needed to protect Anne.^”

Guess Electivire can blush; who could’ve thought.

“I’ve no idea what... *sigh*, yeah, you got me. But that doesn’t take away from my thrust!”

It took Aria her entire supply of willpower to keep herself from twisting the word ‘thrust’ into a different meaning in her mind. “^Right, right~.^”

“Hah. Jokes aside, I do mean it. Yes, my reasons might be less than pure, but I sure as hell wouldn’t be alone in taking a stand by following you out if need be. Hell, Holly’s so eager about pushing the girl’s safety into everyone’s face you would’ve thought she’s her bodyguard. I can only imagine how she’d react to being told that some old coots voted to toss her out—and if she goes, you know full well she’s dragging Jovan with herself. Won’t let the little brother stay in such a rotten place, ha!”

That... yeah. He had a point.

“^I see. Well, thank you for the chat, Geiger,^” Aria sighed, feeling that bit lighter.

“Anytime, Aria~. Lemme grab that cup from you. I can only imagine how bloody terrifying all this is for you, but... I believe in ya, girl. And I’m sure so does Anne. And who knows—maybe once she ends up staying, I’ll get to ask her what in the world does my name mean, ha! Now, off you go—you’ve got a life to save, after all.”

If only Aria believed in herself, too.

With one last exchange of waves and thanks, the Gardevoir took her leave, mind spinning even faster at everything it had learned. On one hand, the reassurance that she wasn’t alone helped immensely, but on the other, it only added an even larger weight onto her back. It wasn’t just Anne she was fighting for—it was her children; it was her husband; it was Geiger; it was Holly.

It was the integrity of her entire village. She had a hard time thinking of a more worthy thing to fight for, but good gods, if it didn’t help with all the pressure. Despite it all, she breathed just that bit easier afterwards.

During her chat, the little commune had plunged even deeper into darkness—now counterbalanced by the wisps of light illuminating the streets. It’d still be some time until the night life really began—but by then, she hoped to already be at the Elders’ tent with Anne.

A detour wouldn’t help with that goal, but considering who it was she’d just run into up ahead... she might as well try. To her surprise, she didn’t even have to be the one initiating, the all-too-familiar rough voice grating her ears that bit more than it used to, “Aria, did you hear about that Phantump?”

It was acutely hard for her not to have heard about them. “^Yes I have, Lumi. Did something happen to her?^”

A non-human topic of discussion had the Luxray more chipper than he’d been for the past few days, but it didn’t take long for Aria’s anxiety to rub itself off on him. Thankfully, the sleeping Shinx on his back was too desensitized to any shocks to notice anything afoul, squirming further into his dad’s fur as the Luxray explained, “Dunno if anything happened, but sure sounds like something ain’t right with her. Cypress said she used to be a human or something—load of nonsense as far as I’m concerned. There’s no way a human could even turn into one of us. It just doesn’t work like that.”

Aria was only paying half attention to Lumi’s diatribe, too focused on making sure she was gathering the right words. The mention of Sage being a human was a very worrisome one, but she didn’t have the spare brainpower to fully investigate the implications of it at the moment. “^I think I’d rather trust Cypress about that as opposed to your gut...^”

“You’d think, but c’mon. She’s just a normal Phantump. Wearing something silly on her head, but still a Phantump—no way a human soul would end up as one. It’d have to be something bloody monstrous.”

It was neither helpful nor time-efficient to chew Lumi out for what he was implying there, but Aria still only barely stopped herself from doing so—she had something very different in mind for the Luxray. “^Lumi?^” she asked, sullen tone snagging his attention as his piercing, yellow-red eyes looked at her uncertainly. “^Can I ask you, as a friend, to not hurt Ember with your vote?^”

The phrasing made him flinch and open his maw as if about to speak—but no words came. No words could, she imagined. She felt his emotions shrink from proud bravado and yapping about things he didn’t understand, to being almost... chided. Whether it would last—or amount to anything, it remained to be seen.

It was also enough to make him scurry away without saying another word. Once again, Aria was left alone, with only snow and dark to keep her company.

And purpose burning in her soul.

---

The large tent of their clinic was filled only with occasional strained breaths and shuffling of bodies on linen.

As yesterday, a faint light peeked out from underneath the entrance to what had become Anne’s room, but it’d be a moment until Aria investigated it. True, she could feel the one aura she certainly didn’t expect or want to sense in there, but since both the Delphox and everyone around her were doing alright—beyond being stressed—they could wait a minute.

The Phantump was already asleep by the time she got there, the Banette watching closely over her. His pink eyes narrowed at seeing someone approach, but relaxed not long after once they realized just who exactly it was in the darkness.

Not someone he liked, but someone he could at least trust. “~Good evening.~”

“^Greeting, Yaksha. I’ve heard that Sage—^”

“~Yes, she used to be a human,~” the Banette grumbled out. The words were strained, but genuine, and as conflicted as he clearly was over that fact, he was putting said conflict aside for the sake of tending to the hauntling under his watch, and that’s all Aria could’ve ever expected from him. And then some.

As the Gardevoir squinted at the asleep ghost, she could just barely make out something large and dark covering her head. A misfolded blanket, maybe? Whatever it was, it would have to wait, wait until tomorrow. Until forever, potentially. “^I see. Did that realization help her feel better?^”

Hardly a single, definite answer to a question like that. The Banette grumbled, slowly shaking his head in uncertainty, before settling on the world’s weakest nod.

“~In a way. It let her remember who she was, and I’m—I’m glad she does. But it uncovered a lot of grief, too, and wanting to go back to her human family. I don’t want to deny her that, or anything, but it feels like she’s setting herself up for more pain.~”

Aria shuddered at the image of a little sad ghost weeping at being torn away from her family once more—this time deliberately. “^I can only imagine how painful it’d be for her.^”

The ‘wants to leave village to return to humanity’ part of Sage’s wish had a hard time settling in Aria’s mind, already so full of worrying for everything else. She didn’t want to be the one trying to convince everyone that the Phantump deserved to be able to leave them—she agreed with that, of course she did, but she could only imagine that entire topic lowering Anne’s chances even more.

Something for another day, hopefully.

“~I’m glad that Anne girl at least got her this,~” the Banette sighed. “Makes her feel a lot better. Can’t remember her sleeping this soundly in a while.~”

Yaksha’s spectral hand gently stroked over the unidentified black mass at the top of Sage’s head, making the little one shift in her dreams. The mention of Anne took Aria aback, especially as it clicked in her head just what the injured and equally scared human girl had done.

It made her feel so warm, on par with hearing about Cadence or Bell having helped someone. “^I’m glad to hear. Is it a... head covering?^”

“~Seems like a wig. Maybe it’s how she kept her hair back in her human life, I’m unsure.~”

Curious, but not a topic to get into there and then. “^I see. I hope the night passes calmly for you two.^”

“~So do I. Something’s heavy in the air, I can feel it.~”

You don’t know the half of it.

With the weakest nod of her life, Aria turned around and approached the entrance to Anne’s room. The emotions she felt from inside were the opposite of reassuring—anxiety from everyone, though very unequal in intensity. Arguably, the rational response to what would happen in just a couple of hours.

The flaps parting caught the attention of all the awake occupants, providing relief to most of them. Cinder was the one exception, staring down at the floor as the sleeping Ember sat on her lap.

Anne held the younger vixen’s paw from a distance, not daring to touch the Delphox as others present congregated around her. Cadence held her side, Autumn patted her shoulder, Bell squirmed uncomfortably on her lap, too tense to sleep and only barely keeping himself from crying.

Everyone else, already gone.

“^Mom, what—what’s going on? Anne is so scared, and she doesn’t want to tell us and it makes us scared too and we just want to help, and—^” Cadence asked, her telepathic whisper soon interrupted by the feeling of her mom’s psychic embrace. The warmth undid some of the tension, at least temporarily.

Aria didn’t want to tell her—not now, not ever—she didn’t want to ruin the image of their village as a safe place in the Kirlia’s mind. She would have to anyway if things went awry, but that was then. And now; she just wanted her children to feel safe, “^I will tell you later, sweetie. I know how stressful this is, and I really wish it wasn’t like that. Me and—and other scouts are doing what we can to help Anne, and we’ll figure it out soon.^”

The Kirlia wasn’t convinced, holding the injured human even firmer. “^B-but she’s so scared, a-and I’m so scared—and you’re scared too, I can feel it! Is someone gonna hurt us?^”

If only it was as easy as someone out there wanting to hurt us. “^I can’t talk about it right now, Cadence. It’s—it’s scout stuff, I’m sorry to say.^”

She felt the sorrow seep deeper into her daughter’s soul, but there was nothing she could do to help. Autumn was keen on helping however she could, though, holding the Kirlia tight from behind. Anne had no idea about the exchange that had just taken place, and her pose didn’t let her contribute much, but one shaking, petting hand was better than nothing.

It was time to address them all. Aria spoke with her physical voice, “Hey. I need you all to leave me and Anne alone for now. Autumn, could you—”

“^Sure thing, Aria,^” Indeedee answered. The resolve in her voice was a welcome departure from the surrounding stress, but even it was clearly strained.

As tired as Ember clearly was, her mom getting up to carry her away stirred her out of her sleep, making her look around the room in groggy confusion. “Wh-what’s going on? Mom, why are we leaving?”

Cinder almost only barely forced herself to look into Aria’s eyes; it was almost too painful to imagine. And yet, she pushed through, wordlessly asking if her daughter already knew. Unfortunately, she did, making her mother explain, “^Ember, the vote about what will happen to Anne is coming up, and I’ll need to take her there.^”

Aria expected the Braixen to get paralyzed with fear at hearing that, that she’d become so inconsolable Cinder would have to carry her out. Instead, the lil’ fox nodded as firmly as she could, shaking her eyepatch around, before dashing over to her best friend one more time, and pulling her into one last hug.

“N-no matter what happens, I’ll always be with you, A-Anne. I-I promise.”

The Gardevoir didn’t know how she even managed to maintain her composure at these words, only that eventually it was just her and Anne in the room. Terrified, anxious, hopeful, that last emotion in particular trying to persevere as hard as it could despite the circumstances.

Neither of them knew what to say, but they knew what they longed for in that dreadful moment. Without another word, Aria sat down beside Anne on the rough bedding and pulled her into the tightest side hug her feeble physical arms could manage—immediately returned. As hard as the little one tried to keep her emotions in check around other kids, it couldn’t last forever.

And if there was anywhere in the world she felt secure enough to let them out, it was in the Gardevoir’s arms. “~I-I d-don’t wanna d-die...~”

Aria wanted to scream at the injustices in the world, be they made by humanity or them, that had forced the child in her arms to say these words out loud. Maybe, in time, she would have the opportunity to shout at least three of them down—but that time wasn’t now. ‘Now’ deserved something else. “^I won’t let that happen, no matter what.^”

The psychic forced herself to give off the same tingling, emotional warmth she did when they first embraced; her inner light snuffed in all the anxiety. It was nowhere near as intense as then, but it still helped the girl relax, if slightly, making her lean into the touch even further as she asked, “~Wh-what will happen to Ember?~”

Another part of this cruel mystery, almost equally uncertain. Only almost, however, and if what Aria saw was any sign, things were better on that front than she thought. “^I don’t know for certain, but I doubt Cinder will let her be hurt again, be it directly or not.^”

Anne nodded weakly into the psychic’s side, mulling through what she’d seen of her this evening. “~I-I think she m-means well. Now, at least. She was still really, really scary, but it really f-felt like she wanted the best for Ember, a-and I hope she really does.~”

“^So do I. What’s best for her is what’s best for you as well—remaining here, together, in a family you’re loved in.^”

Aria didn’t realize all the implications of her telepathic words until after she had sent them, making her flinch. On the other hand... it’s not like she disagreed with any of them. More than that, she felt that yearning in her grow stronger by the moment. This wasn’t the time nor the place to dig too deeply into it, though.

Whether she would ever get the time for that... remained to be seen.

Because the little one in her arms was doing just that, only shaking harder as a result. She didn’t put words to any of her thoughts, and neither did Aria. What could they even say that wouldn’t make what they were about to go through even harder for them both? The Gardevoir didn’t know, but there was something she could do that would make it just that bit easier.

Deep breaths helped with the raging flames of panic, but were all but useless when dealing with the freezing grasp of a lingering fear. Nothing but true safety could get rid of the latter. But if they could at least rid themselves of as much of the former as they could, it would help a lot, too.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. The subconscious impulse soon synchronized between them, ending up at a pace the Gardevoir found sluggish, and the human just slow enough to feel calm. Anne was here; hope wasn’t yet lost. Aria was here; things would be alright.

It was time.

“^We should be going,^” the Gardevoir whispered. “^Can you can stand up on your own, Anne?^”

A moment of thought, a resigned headshake, “~I-I don’t know...~”

“^I’ll help you, don’t worry. Will you need anything to leave?^”

“~Sh-shoes. M-Maybe socks too, but we d-don’t have time for those.~”

A part of Aria wanted to object, to reassure the girl that they had the time, but settled on following Anne’s best judgment. The mental image of ‘shoes’ was simultaneously decently close to the foot wraps that a fair few in their village used, and much, much sturdier.

And—once the psychic had pulled them out of the rough pile of Anne’s clothes—stained with caked mud and a few droplets of dried blood. Miserable, but they didn’t have the time for anything better.

As the girl slid her bare feet into them, wincing at how uncomfortable they felt without socks in the way, Aria psychiced the blanket into the air, and gently wrapped it around her. Safeguard did wonders for keeping the worst of the winter cold away, but she didn’t want Anne to be spared of just the absolute worst—she wanted her to feel comfortable and warm and loved and to flourish and—

...

The sooner they departed, the better.

Aria’s constant assistance provided Anne’s legs with enough strength to walk. Between aching, limping, and needing to get used to the motions again, that process remained slow—but it didn’t matter. Step by step, aided by a blanket and Safeguard, until they reached the end.

Once they left the girl’s room and caught the attention of one of the injured that hadn’t fallen asleep yet, the Gardevoir added one more layer, one much more draining for her but necessary for the human. Thankfully, the onlookers only reacted to the wrapped biped beside Aria suddenly being erased from their perception with momentary confusion, and didn’t try digging deeper than that.

Onward, into the oh-so-familiar darkness.

After stepping out of the tent, Anne stopped to look around in awe, and Aria followed. She had no doubts that she really had spent the last few days in a village of mons by that point, but seeing it for herself was something entirely different. Much scarier than she thought it’d be, too.

Almost all buildings had turned dark by then, which, combined with their primitiveness and the unceasing snowfall, only made them look decrepit. Beloved huts turned into harrowing ruins, if not to Anne’s conscious mind, then to her subconscious fear. In the distance, animalistic noises—speech to Aria, but only a source of more fear for the little one beside her. Unknown in meaning, unknown in source. Unknown in whether their owners would hurt her if they could.

The thought made her shake much harder than the surrounding snow ever could. It wouldn’t let go either, forcing quickly freezing tears and psychically obscured sobs as it rattled around in her mind. She just wanted to be safe; why was that so impossible? Why did so many hate her enough to where they would rather toss her out to die? She had done nothing to hurt them!

Others like her have, the planet-spanning abomination of law and steel and bigotry and conquest had, but not her! She was just a child! Such an important distinction, but... would it matter? To anyone?

Aria could only watch, at a loss for words. She heard the questions crying out from the girl’s mind, but had no matter—how could she? It didn’t help, not her, not Anne. Very little could—but not nothing.

“Honey?” the demonic voice grunted, making Anne yelp as Aria looked over her shoulder at her husband, barely making out the uncertain concern on his face.

She beckoned him over with a nod of her head as she whispered over to the girl, wanting to take at least some of the choking fear away, “^It’s Garret, sweetie. You don’t have to talk with him if you don’t want to.^”

The girl didn’t immediately react to the telepathic words, focusing instead on the Grimmsnarl as he caught up to them and gave her a timid wave. Aria would need a different way of disguising things if she ever wanted to cover anything from him, something closer to Orion’s innate gifts—and so she didn’t even try. “Hey, sweetie. I’m—I’m heading over to the council hearing with Anne.”

The Gardevoir’s physical voice was so dry it was almost croaking. Nothing that could be helped at the moment, alas. Still, her husband noticed it clearly, leaning in to wrap his arms around her without disturbing the already unnerved human beside her. “Best of luck to you, honey. I talked with Max earlier today, if you’d wanna hear about that before you get there.”

Aria was unsure how to respond without potentially exposing Anne to even more fear of never being accepted here. Considering how unbothered her husband was, it couldn’t be too bad... right? “How did it go?” she asked.

“Quite well, if I may! He did bring up the discomfort, but was clear that it didn’t matter if it came down to the choice between personal feelings or Anne’s safety.”

At least they had that reprieve. She sighed, “That’s—that’s good.”

“Something to keep your hopes up! He mentioned Celia had visited him earlier that day to talk about this as well, and with how uncertain you felt about her, I thought I’d mention it.”

If the Gardevoir had any idea how to feel about that knowledge, she would’ve reacted in a more lively way than the flattest nod of her life. Just another onto the massive pile of vague concerns in her mind. She’d find out what the Primarina Elder was planning soon enough, anyway.

“How about you, Anne? How are you feeling?” the Grimmsnarl asked.

Aria cursed herself for not making it clear to her husband that the little one would need some space—only to then sigh in relief at the girl responding normally, “~I-I’m scared...~”

“I can only imagine. I know it’s really scary, but Aria’s got your back, and we’re all hoping for the best. Things are gonna be alright,” Garret reassured. He wasn’t the best at motivational speeches, but he made up for that in spades with physical affection. The likes of which were rather limited for Anne at the moment, but which she still wanted, even if silently.

And after his wife covertly passed that detail over to him, he only saw it fit to do his best.

Him crouching before Anne and opening his arms wide took her aback a bit, but not enough to not take him up on that offer moments later, walking into his front. Even at his gentlest, the affection was still rather firm—for the best, considering the situation. For a few moments, Anne leaned on Garret as he silently held her and pet her back. Words were difficult, especially at the moment, but he still deserved her gratitude. “~Th-thank you, M-Mr. Garret.~”

“Of course, Anne.”

The girl took her time backing up to her guardian once the Dark-type let go of her, wanting to feel that warmth for just a bit longer. Alas, it was the time they didn’t have, and she knew that full well, too. After catching her balance, Anne looked up and nodded at Aria, the latter getting the message to continue.

“Take care, you two! I believe in you both!” the Grimmsnarl cheered.

Before they got out of mindshot, though, the Gardevoir had one more thing to say to her husband. “^Garret, I... made a promise to her. That, if the worst comes to pass, we’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, even if it means uprooting ourselves and leaving altogether.^”

Aria couldn’t feel the uncertainty in the Grimmsnarl’s mind, but she saw it. A tiny flinch, a moment of fear on his expression, hesitation before he spoke again. Nothing she could blame him for, nothing she could’ve blamed anyone for. “I... I hope you know what you’re doing, Aria.”

And so did she.

With Garret out of sight, the two could speed up again. As little as it was, and as lively as worry remained inside both of their minds, the briefest of chats with the demonic Fairy-type was still enough to get them going faster than before. The tiniest of embers of hope in their hearts, given a few flakes of kindling to keep it burning for just a few minutes, hours longer.

The rest of their slow trek wasn’t anywhere near as interesting, thankfully. As more nocturnal inhabitants woke up and left their dens to stretch their limbs, they tried greeting the oddly walking Gardevoir—and only received silent nods in response.

Even if they couldn’t see the being obviously walking beside her, they could still spot the tracks in the snow they left behind, psychically sense or even smell their fear. It wasn’t too difficult to put two and two together for most, and the rest were discouraged by her gloomy disposition.

Something Aria desperately hoped would happen with Mikiri too after the tinkerer spotted them, only to be positively surprised.

In all likelihood, the Mawile hadn’t even consciously noticed the sun having set, not with so much of her focus still on the two-wheeled contraption. Each time the Gardevoir got a glimpse, it had more and more clearly unrelated parts welded onto it, which included something poking through the spokes of the wheel this time.

Mikiri’s mind was on the highest gear, but whether it was devoted to solving yet another mechanical obstacle or trying to come up with an idea of how to climb down from the raised seat without faceplanting in the snow, Aria didn’t know or care. For a moment, it looked like she was about to be forcibly pulled into the former once the Steel-type noticed her, making her brace herself for the worst.

Instead, the Mawile had spotted the tracks beside her too, and cracked that little puzzle immediately. A rare moment of genuine surprise, an even rarer show of consideration—and at last, a replacement for bothering the psychic. Two thumbs up, support and affirmation. Copied straight from Orion.

Thanks, Mikiri.

As they neared the Elders’ tent, Aria felt the attention being placed on her intensify, making it harder and harder to keep Anne hidden. More and more onlookers, most of them aware of what was about to take place. Many uncertain, some friendly, some less so. A few little ones way past their bedtimes, eager to see what would happen.

The auras of Blossom and Ember, trying to keep as inconspicuous as possible, had the psychic sigh, but not acknowledge them any further than that. There was no point to that, or time to waste.

One last turn, the massive conical tent finally came into view. The many woven and carved decorations that adorned it were little more than visual noise in the dark, proud symbols that stood for nothing without sunlight to set them straight. Anne shuddered into Aria’s side at realizing that it was where they were headed, but didn’t comment on it beyond that.

The sights spoke for themselves.

Once the two were face to face with the entrance, a single step from the hall of judgements and rulings, they stopped. Aria wanted to turn and run, to not subject the girl beside her to a hearing that felt more and more doomed by the moment, to spare her that painful middle step between fleeting comfort and having to escape along with the Gardevoir’s family.

Anne just wanted to be safe.

After one more embrace, quick and wordless, they stepped in.

---

Reassuringly, they weren’t the last to have made it there, either.

The sunken firepit in the center provided some sorely needed light as it lit the gathered figures in the harshest way possible. Away from the entrance, the three Elders sat in a row, their gazes immediately leaping onto the Gardevoir.

Blatant displeasure of the Breloom.

Unchanging flatness of the Torkoal.

Obscured attentiveness of the Primarina.

Anne’s attention was focused almost entirely on the latter, unfamiliar to her creature. Reminded her of some sketches she’d seen in fantasy novels, but nothing even close to what she remembered seeing in a dex. Whether they were a village secret, or simply a mundane species from far away, the girl didn’t know—all she knew was that they were hurt.

The scars on their face and arms, the lost fingers on their flipper. Torn pieces of the translucent fin at the top of their head, missing patches of beautiful, azure hair. It felt like some further things were missing, too, but Anne didn’t know enough about how the stranger ‘ought’ to have looked like to tell.

Expression hidden behind their left flipper.

“Finally!” Winnie shouted. “Celia asked you to bring it with you; where is—”

Before Winnie could finish his complaint, Aria undid the spell that kept Anne hidden, startling everyone present to a various extent. The Breloom sneered at the girl; the Torkoal leaned her head in, and the Primarina... closed her eyes.

“Very well. Please seat her beside yourself, Aria,” Ana instructed.

The Gardevoir did just that, finally letting go of her constant support of the girl’s body. By the time Anne finished sitting down, she looked less like a human and more like a pile of cloth with a head sticking out of it—an exhausted head, worn by the strains of the day, by the cold, by fear. By what still awaited them all.

“Aria? I have a request, if I may,” Celia asked. Hearing her silken voice was a rare enough occurrence that it caught the attention of everyone gathered, even the human for whom it was little more than a vaguely feminine, pretty noise.

A shudder went through Aria’s horns, but she had no choice but to respond, “Yes, Elder Celia?”

“I wish for Anne to remove her eye coverings for the duration of the proceedings.”

There was no ambiguity for the Gardevoir to wriggle in—only a serious order for the girl to be left blind throughout it all, beyond what she would be already subject to. It was blatant cruelty that had no practical use to it.

And based on the words that followed soon after, something told Aria that Celia was well aware. “It is—it is for the purpose of keeping sensitive information away from her.”

For a split second, the stone mask from behind which the Primarina observed the world cracked into doubt, before correcting itself once more. Aria wanted to scream, but it would’ve been for naught. “^Anne?^” she whispered. “^An Elder is asking you to take your glasses off.^”

The human girl was no less confused about the purpose of that, but could tell from her guardian’s tone that there was nothing either of them could do about it. Her little body shook even harder after the world had returned to an indistinct blur, the unknown not even her eyes could reveal growing that much more terrifying.

“Thank you,” the Primarina said.

Without any further words being exchanged, Anne could only try to make out the already present scouts, half-blind, and watch as the rest of them showed up, one by one.

Magenta and violet of a ghost scarred by humanity.

Metallic red of an unnerved tinkerer.

White and blue of a once-exile.

Blue and black of a scornful watcher.

Brown and green of a cheerful mother.

Metal blue and black of a protector of his ingroup.

Purple and tan of a once-battler.

Black and red of a kin-blind shadow of the woods.

White and green of a devoted guardian.

White and green of a...

Aria stared at her brother as he stepped in, hoping to see confidence and reassurance. Instead, there was only quiet thoughtfulness, one that refused to show its hand, and guilt that only barely let him look his sister in the eyes.

Once Marco sat down, the Gardevoir turned to the girl beside her one last time, passing her a simple, telepathic question, “^Do you want me to translate what’s being said?^”

Anne chewed through the offer, already withdrawn and spaced out from all the dangerous-feeling strangers in the room. She knew she should’ve been brave enough for this, to face what was going on around her, to at least have the courage to hear what understandable objections some present might have had to her being here,

But she couldn’t.

It was just too terrifying a thought.

“~N-n-no...~” she whimpered.

“^Of course, sweetie. It’s all good, I’m here for you.^”

The Gardevoir held the girl as close as she could, stroking her hair as she watched the Torkoal slowly pick herself up into a standing position and take a step forward. Then another, and third still, squinting eyes glancing around the room for the final count. And then; she spoke, voice heavy as a mountain,

“Let us begin.”

---