Malantau Abandoned Fishing Village

[Jackie Cat]

The ruins of old settlements are often filled with ghosts. Seeing un-lived-in dwellings, eaten by time and nature, one can hardly help but to imagine a past when living paws walked these roads – or to discover what end they met. Sometimes cataclysm, sometimes a more subtle, drawn-out tragedy, always enough to suggest it could happen elsewhere, too...

Up the coast of Lake Lazuli, on the shores of what used to be called 'Malantau', there lay a small settlement of stone and timber houses, built with thick walls to keep out the year-round chill. Stacks of firewood remained, piled under shelters, a patina of frost-like lichen incrementally decomposing it on a timescale measured in generations. No signs existed of recent inhabitation.

At the end of a long, crude jetty, the steamship Polymath was moored. This was how the Wayfarers made their way here, sleeping more or less fitfully in bunks and hammocks as its turbine-driven paddles hauled them across the inland seas over the course of nearly three full days. Its crew waited aboard, reluctant to step foot on 'cursed' ground, as superstitious as any sailors.

Out to sea, Lake Lazuli reflected the pale sky like a mirror, its surface marked by broken fragments of ice. Further inland, white hills and frosted conifers huddled against the border of the village. Further than that, plains of snow beneath craggy subarctic mountains and a violet-tinged sky.

<><><><><>​

 

[Jackie Cat]

The fishing village – nameless, desolate – was supremely uninviting. Forbidding, even. But for now, it was the closest thing to a base of operations for the Wayfarers exploring Malantau. Already, some of the Teardrop Station personnel had carried supplies off the Polymath and into some of the less decrepit dwellings, boarding up windows and getting fires going. Someone was smoking fish they'd apparently caught just off one of the jetties.

"This location is absolutely worthless," muttered Ein, his Shadow-drenched voice less bassy than before, what with the aura-suppressant collar around his neck. "Who in their right mind would establish a settlement in a biome like this? No wonder they failed to thrive."

"No. The climate did not drive them away," admonished Lord Articuno, floating without wingbeat above a nearby storm porch. "Generations were born and buried here. Something else brought an end to this kingdom."

The Saint eyed first Ein, then Lovrina and Naps wandering about near a pallette of supplies. It would be hard to cause any serious trouble with the psychic bird watching over the camp.

One team had already set off, hoping to discover viable mystery dungeons in which to establish more of Betel's fast travel waypoints. Other Wayfarers lingered in the village, to help secure the camp, keep watch on the Cipher admins, or whatever else.

Hopefully they wouldn't have to stay here long. A few days, maybe. A week at most. Any longer would rapdily become intolerable...

 

[Shiny Phantump]

Gladion was not prone to superstition. He did not, rationally, believe this place to be cursed. He did, however, understand the sentiment as far as this place was concerned. Spirit channelers described places haunted by memory as having a gravity to them. Here, you didn't need any energy sensitivity at all to feel the weight of history.

He took some of the firewood, which had probably been resting for longer than he'd been alive, and set about starting a fire. Even though he was certain nobody would be coming back for it, it felt disrespectful to disturb it. Perhaps not theft, but a defilement of what could have been preserved indefinitely by the indifferent blanket of cold. But pragmatism won out, because even if his ice memory would protect him from the worst physical effects of the cold, the emotional state of those memories cast a bitter chill over his soul instead.

He hadn't seen any bodies, at least not yet. No signs of a struggle, violent or against the nature of the environment itself. Just a ghost town.

"Do you know what happened here?" Gladion mused in Articuno's general direction, without really averting his attention from his task to make eye contact and demand an answer. "Wonder if it was before your time or not. Guess it could be Eremus-related? Assuming it's not just an economic ghost town."

 

[Jackie Cat]

Articuno slowly descended to the ground, and cocked their head slightly.

"The two are not mutually exclusive," they replied, with a tinge of sadness softening their voice. "Whatever birthed – or violently exacerbated – the Eremus Rift was sudden and unexpected. My research indicates that the rift formed in the vicinity of Malantau's former capital... When a centralised state suffers the abrupt loss of a substantial part of its population, resources, and administrative capacity, its economy would subsequently collapse in short order. It is only a matter of time before what remained of such a country would struggle to endure. Very few settlements are entirely self-sustaining, after all."

They shook their head, somberly. The thought weighed heavily on the Saint.

"I was alive at the time, but not involved with the region. I was, regrettably, concerned with other matters. Even with many legendary pokémon alive today, there is simply more in the world than there ever was in ancient times, and tragedies of this kind do occasionally come to pass, regardless of any one Saint's efforts."

 

[Shiny Phantump]

Gladion nodded. "Sounds like Eremus stuff."

He stoked his fire and sat down in front of it to let the ice melt from his system. It came as no surprise to him that his Volition chose to make him Ghost type instead. Felt better than ice, at least. Less callous.

"Yeah, I don't blame you. Shit happens. Can't be everywhere. Especially when you'd probably need to have been there, knowing what'd happen, before the rift formed, or the damage'd have already been done. Saints here still seem more involved than the ones back home."

He cast a curious look up at Articuno. "D'you really think there'd have been something you could've done to stop it? Surprises me, honestly."

 

[Jackie Cat]

Articuno considered this carefully, tilting their beak as they gazed off into empty space.

"Perhaps; perhaps not... Forlasan Saints tend to become familiar with a particular 'jurisdiction', and watch over it. For minor demigods, perhaps just a village, or a valley, or a tribe. For greater divinities, their influence can stretch over a nation. The Divine Phoenix governs all of Tsainan, the greatest empire of this world. For my own part, I have... I have the Covenant to watch over, imperfect as my vigilance may be."

An uncharacteristic hesitation. Had Articuno been about to say something else...?

"If I were instead a sentinel of Malantau, I would have been stationed locally, and well-informed of the details of its subjects. If there were some plague, or social unrest, or invasion, or malevolent plot... I could have acted. But then, I would not have been present and influential in the Covenant council, advocating for wise action when it was most needed. An opportunity cost that cannot be calculated."

 

[Shiny Phantump]

Articuno's hesitation did not entirely escape Gladion's notice, but he didn't have the kind of certainty of it's importance that he'd want to risk commenting. Imperfect was on hell of a word choice for what they were dealing with right now. Catastrophic might better fit the quantity of stuff sliding under their radar between Matthias' bullshit, the ARK Unit project, and everything with Betelgeuse. (The latter of which, in all fairness, no one to his knowledge had informed them of. So they might not know to count that one at all.)

"Guess someone's gotta try to keep an eye on them," he ceded. Maybe earlier, he would've felt more comfortable overlooking those issues. He certainly had been willing to for what he knew of them at the time. But something was nagging him about that stance, after talking to Matthias. Something he couldn't afford to ask directly while they still needed Articuno for the ride: What was really the difference between Articuno and Matthias? Couldn't just be that Articuno didn't know what was happening, while Matthias was openly complicit, not unless he figured the difference was incompetence. If he ever wanted to look Valere in the eyes again he'd better figure out an answer. Or if there wasn't one, a reason they still cooperated.

"Didn't realize you were that far up there in the Covenant. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised, given you're... you. You sticking your neck out for us in some other saint's jusridiction now? Or is it—"

Ah. He'd initially been wondering if no-one'd claimed it at all, but on second thought he could think of a saint who could've claimed a frozen expanse as their turf. One that would explain the regret this Articuno appeared to feel over the absence of a saint to stop Eremus from happening.

 

[Jackie Cat]

"Guess someone's gotta try to keep an eye on them. Didn't realize you were that far up there in the Covenant. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised, given you're... you. You sticking your neck out for us in some other saint's jusridiction now? Or is it—"

Articuno tilted their head at an inquisitive angle.

"You have many thoughts, Gladion – I shall not read them without your consent, but I encourage you to speak plainly."

They stretched out their wings, preening for a brief moment. Somehow, it felt like a mollifying gesture. Something 'mortals' did; a reminder that Articuno was once a normal 'mon.

"I was a founding member of the Covenant," admitted the Saint. "I was not quite so old then as I am now, and I was... idealistic. I had seen tragedy, and sought to find solutions to improve on the track record of myself and my peers, along with humans and their descendants. When a group of humans and their friends asked me to be part of a society for heroes... I accepted, with a hopeful heart. If disaffected pokémon with great potential could be turned towards the greater good, instead of their abilities going to waste – or serving only themselves to ill ends – then perhaps the world could be... less heartbreaking, than it has been."

They hummed to themself, thinking deeply.

"The project has been a qualified success. I could speak on that at length, but to put it succinctly... The world once had only hundreds of thousands of pokémon – most living simple lives – and a Saint for each such number. Now, there are a billion sapient pokémon in Forlas, with fewer Saints than there once were... and their cultural, economic and political behaviour is more complex with each passing year.

"I once oversaw a single city-state, and offered verdicts on individual concerns. Now, I study societal tensions that defy simple resolution. Industrialisation creates wealth, but also stark inequalities. Labour relations are changing at a fundamental level, while unprecedented transnational trade inevitably brings systemic shocks—"

They shook their head, arresting an uncharacteristically passionate – if dry and academic – tangent. They really cared about this stuff.

"Saints were not created for the world as it is," they said, their voice cold. "I am resolved not to die before I have made some meaningful change towards a better world, with better systems to protect its inhabitants."

 

[Shiny Phantump]

Gladion seemed genuinely interested in Articuno's side-tangent. "My home had a good thing going for a while with unions, but without effort to maintain them, it fell apart." He wasn't pitching Articuno on anything. He could only give them a glimpse at one possible future, one where honestly things weren't going so hot. Alola'd been safe so far, but a lot of regions were dodging groups organizing people into triggering regionalized legendary disasters 'cause some people thought that was easier to organize and a better plan than, like, a general strike or something. It was for Articuno to decide if the thought was useful to them.

He wondered if this world was developing faster than his, and if they'd hit downturns faster too if that was the case. How long had it taken his's world to go from hundreds of thousands to billions? He'd know if he could look it up, which of course meant he wouldn't know for the rest of this life. He could be certain, though, that Articuno was older than he'd guessed. And he'd already known they'd been around for a long time.

He hadn't, however, assumed they were there for the founding of the Coven.

“Was just wondering if there’d been a saint here at one point. Y’know, before Erebus happened. But if so it was probably an Ice type, and far as Ice types who weren’t around when Erebus happened, y’know… Makes it feel outta line to speculate.”

He glanced towards the Cipher convicts. He didn’t get the impression they were paying attention, but he still felt it was wise to let Articuno infer what he meant.

 

[Jackie Cat]

Articuno smiled very slightly. Was that... a little pain underneath it? Gone. Masked beyond reading.

"I believe there was a Malantauic Saint at one point. I have not heard any credible accounts of one for... at least two centuries, or thereabouts. Perhaps they are dormant, or..."

Articuno trailed off. Unusual for them...

"My mentor never visited the new world," they said, softly. Wistfully. "She was oracle and protector of Akkairos, in the old world. So was I, for a time – until I became certain that the emerging power that would later be called the Commonwealth was in greater need of a guiding wing."

 

[Shiny Phantump]

Gladion didn't like the way the whole new world needing guidance thing was hitting his ear. Yeah, they were probably talking about the actual settlements, but it still reminded him of the way Valere warned him of how the Coven was trying to change people's way of life enough to make his feathers bristle.

"Can't fault you for that," he said, his tone less than even. "They really could use some guidance right now. Someone's gotta guide them away from kidnapping humans, engineering radiant chimera knights to fight the-stars-only-know-what, and trying to cook up their own jury-rigged beacon. 'Cause that kinda stuff would be really fucking bad."

He shut his eyes and averted his gaze. Simmering. In resentment that this was happening, in frustration that he didn't know what to do about it, in embarrassment that he hadn't been able to keep his emotions under control in front of some important who'd respected him up until now. Deep breath, in and out. Couldn't afford to manifest shadows right now.

 

[Jackie Cat]

Articuno was silent for a moment, not looking at Gladion. If he looked their way, he would see the bird briefly close their eyes. Perhaps to compose themself – but they were among the least emotionally charged of any Forlasan 'mon the party had encountered. Maybe they were just remembering something or someone, or considering what might be best to say...

"Yes," said the bird, softly. "It would. That's why I want you and your companions to find this faction inside my society and bring them into the light. I have already made the appropriate arrangements to have several of you placed in suitable departments that will afford you the opportunities you need to investigate this matter. For all that I have calculated possibilities and analysed tradeoffs in doing this, I am still... putting a great deal of faith in you."

Articuno alighted on the ground and leaned down a little, to meet Gladion at eye level.

"I know I ask for much. This world has already asked a great deal of you, and will ask even more before your time here is over. You may feel, at times, as if you have failed – as I have."

Articuno's masked eyes offered little sympathy – they kept a cool disposition even now – but there was understanding, there.

"You must continue to do what you can nonetheless, Gladion."

 

[Shiny Phantump]

Gladion took a moment to think. It felt good, to have Articuno say they trusted him and that his group was important. But he wasn’t sure he could accept that feeling. Could he trust Articuno wasn’t just saying that to be manipulative? He couldn’t see a reason to doubt their sincerity, but it also just felt… off. It tripped a defence mechanism in his head.

He settled on what he had to say next.

“I will, but then what? We can’t stay here. We’re all gonna go home, and then… Hmph.” His voice lowered itself. There were people around. “I know we can’t, like, fix everything forever, but there’ll still be a concentrated block of powerful people who’re often jaded outta society with no external oversight.”

His heart was racing. He could feel adrenaline, and it wasn’t in the fun battle kind of way. He was tipping his hand. No, he’d tipped it already with the Coven shit, right now he was considering throwing it down on the table.

“It’s a radicalization engine and it’s gonna keep spinning even if we reset the process.”

Gladion took a deep breath and awaited judgement.

 

[Jackie Cat]

"...A radicalisation engine? A system which fosters ideological individuals with top-percentile power and insufficient accountability."

Articuno considered this with an impassive face. Their beak parted to speak, then hesitated. Doubt. Then their eyes narrowed as they reached some conclusion.

"I have restrained myself to a largely advisory role," they said, their voice just barely lower than usual. "Throughout my whole life, for the most part – not only as councillor in the Covenant. Perhaps it is my own... optimism that has allowed such things to fester outsight my line of sight, and my faith in others to be... misplaced."

Their head rose, and they looked south, across the Lazuli.

"If this faction exists, and pursues what objectives I fear it might, then the systems and institutions I have safeguarded are... inadequate."

Articuno's beak remained slightly parted, their mouth drawing back in what looked like... contempt.

The Saint was old, intelligent, a minor divinity. They did not easily change their mind, or find a new perspective on long-held opinions. Perhaps Gladion had simply... pushed Articuno over an edge at which they had been perched already for years.

The sub-arctic air somehow grew even colder.

 

[Shiny Phantump]

What.

What?

Gladion was visibly surprised. He’d felt like he was picking a fight, getting too provocative, like he was going to torch Articuno’s respect just to make his point.

And it didn’t happen. Articuno listened.

Rationally, it made sense that Articuno would follow, so long as his train of thought wasn’t flawed. They weren’t prone to provocations. But… he still didn’t believe it in his heart until it happened. He’d been emotionally praying for retaliation, and didn’t know what to do now that it wouldn’t come.

“Thank you.”

He solidified his molten composure. “Do you… think you know what they might want to achieve? We know they want their own beacon to mass-summon as many humans as they want. Our summoner was supposed to serve that purpose, but got loose of their control. Then they heard a cry for help from Auriga’s hero and reacted with us. But since she’s one of the humans they’ve cleared off the board, we don’t know why yet… The summoning, the Radiant Knights, they feel like means to an end, but we don’t know what their endgame is. If you think you do… it would be our first chance to really understand why we’re here.”

 

[Jackie Cat]

Articuno put a wingtip to their chin and rubbed the underside of their beak. Another oddly mortal gesture. The pensive philosopher, thinking deeply. (If they noticed Gladion's meek 'thank you', they spared him his dignity by not reacting.)

"As of yet, the available information is insufficient to draw firm conclusions," they mused. "However... There is a preoccupation within the Covenant regarding the 'Beacon' – the entity you call 'Auriga'. While specifics differ between individuals, and few members habitually press strong views on the subject, the line of thinking usually goes something like this...

"The Beacon draws human heroes to Forlas to serve and protect this world. Those humans who linger, and their descendants who inherit their power, ought to be a noble order of knights – or statesmon, or similar – to continue that tradition. However, our world remains imperfect, riven by various conflicts and struggles – sometimes due to misguided humans or the pokémon they have empowered. And, so, we must..."

Here they looked to Gladion again, and cracked a fractional dry smile with their beak, one brow marginally raised.

"...find more humans to recruit into the fold. Ensuring, of course, that their particular power is used only for the greater good, and never for personal gain or other such selfish ends."

The bird sighed, and folded their wings, their back stiffening.

"I did not want to believe that any in the society I have belonged to for so long would engage in clandestine projects to meddle with the very cosmology of the world, but what you tell me suggests just that – that this faction would resort to any means in their efforts to bring more humans to Forlas. As to the 'Artificial Radiant Knights'... Well, that is very much in the same ideological vein, is it not? Super-energised Aura, or 'Radiance' – among its other qualities – is the power of the world-spirit. The Beacon. Perhaps they believe they can create a class of naturally-Radiant pokémon capable of defeating any threat or evil. Perhaps they wish to compensate for..."

Articuno paused. Their masked face barely changed, but the ragged sigh that whispered out of their beak sounded faintly stricken.

"...For the long diminishing of the Forlasan Saints," they finished, in a dull monotone.

 

[Shiny Phantump]

Gladion paused to try to process the ideological implications of that. They… recognized that humans were causing problems… but their solutions was to have more good humans?

“But the more humans settle down and either break off from their roles or have kids here, the more new summons they’ll need to deal with…” He let out a noise between a sigh and a laugh. “They’ve invented a pyramid scheme for souls, then.”

The implications of that for the world’s stability, should it come to pass, made him wince. “You know, when we first arrived here, Powehi told us to leave. To kill ourselves, precisely, but we’d be sent home so it wasn’t like he wanted us dead.” (He’d forgiven Powehi, but it still wasn’t the most enjoyable part of his life.) “Too many offworlder souls are bad for the world’s stability. I won’t pretend to understand the cosmology of it, but point being it’s a pretty dangerous plan…”

Really, he felt like using humans to replace saints was pretty stupid for a lot more obvious reasons than that, but that was the whole Coven problem for you. Humans were pretty fallible guardians… then again, it wasn’t as if saints weren’t.

“Is the saint problem just the population and system complexity thing? Or is there… more to it? If you don’t mind.”

He had a hunch it was the latter.

 

[Jackie Cat]

Articuno considered this as carefully as they did most things Gladion said.

"Powehi... That's one elder name for the Jackal of Lethe, is it not? He who holds the souls of the departed in safekeeping. Or eats them, depending on which cultural cosmology you ascribe to."

So, Powehi was not any more in contact with the Covenant than Auriga was. The Wayfarers had enjoyed only limited access to his messages once they were infected with Shadow energy, so perhaps that was a hard limitation for him to overcome...

"I expect the effect of non-native souls on the stability of this entire reality is not an easy matter to study," mused Articuno, drily. "I confess I cannot confidently estimate the number of human souls world-wide, nor deduce changes over time in that population, nor measure the world's stability. While I remain sceptical of this ARK project and its associated faction, I fear your hypothesis is not... actionable. If there were some way to falsify it, and evidence towards its veracity and seriousness, I could advocate for a change in Covenant policy..."

The masked face settled into a cold expression.

"That is, were the Covenant not already subject to subversion outside of council oversight. Not to mention the difficulty the more ardent believers in the manifest purpose of the Beacon's chosen would have in accepting such a notion."

Articuno's stern expression tightened marginally. Their hooked beak really was sharp...

"...You asked about the problem of history," they cut in, interrupting their own moment of cold contemplation. "To be candid, the answer to your question is an unknowable one. One might suppose that the world was meant to change as it has, and Saints must change with it – or that they are already obsolete as civilisation grows strong enough to survive without divine intervention. Alternatively, one might suppose that something has gone wrong with the world, potentially many centuries ago."

Something put a fractional smile on the bird's austere face.

"Some time ago, I briefly entertained a band of wandering Tsainanese warriors of their noble class, who were in Luctemar seeking the so-called Saint of Victory. Such a Saint matching their description does appear in both Akkairosian mythology, and more prominently in Taleska, Escarpa, and other native Luctemarene lore. However, even the very oldest accounts speak of this Saint as pre-historical. The Saint of Victory, if he ever existed, has not walked the earth of Forlas in several millennia. And further to that, though one should certainly have sprung up around his Relic, no Divine Dungeon of Victory has ever been discovered."

The cold smile became somehow conspiritorial, as if Articuno was sharing a private joke with Gladion.

"And yet, many in the Covenant's membership are convinced that the Saint of Victory was real, and even that he will someday return to Forlas from wherever he rests. If that were true... what would it mean for my world that a divinity of such importance has been wholly absent for thousands of years?"

 

[Shiny Phantump]

"The very one," Gladion confirmed. He'd never heard of the "Jackal of Lethe" before, but he recognized what Powehi had described about handling departed souls. He was gonna assume that interpretation was the accurate one, because uh, yeah. Was weird to picture Powehi eating dead people. So he just wasn't gonna entertain that idea.

"I mean, I guess I can't judge 'cause I'm here and not dead. But, like, long-term, I'm inclined to take the guy at his word. And Au— Beacon clearly has the same concerns. That's visible from the rule she follows. Souls naturalize then they've been here longer than their homes, she keeps it to one non-naturalized soul at a time, and makes them as young as possible to reduce the strain. And that's more lenient than Powehi. So, like, I'm not inclined to disbelieve that it's a thing. Not that it matters with the, uh, Covenant in its current state. Can't imagine they'd care."

Gladion was honestly somewhat surprised by Articuno's approach, given they were the second most longtermist person Gladion knew behind Powehi. But as it stood, he didn't see any point in litigating it further. He trusted Powehi would tell them if they needed to go immediately die for planetary stability, and that was about the extent of his emotional investment in the fabric of reality. It was all to abstract for him to worry about.

"Wouldn't be surprised if Victory was real, lines up with some old Unovan stories I've heard, though if those are true they've disappeared from my world, too. Your offworlder members might have the same inclination. Then again, if they have disappeared, it's not like we can really do anything about it. Maybe they got isekai'd again, maybe they fucked up."

He waved a talon dissmisively. "Maybe they're just fated to disappear over and over again in every reality. Bet you it's that."

Dammit. Now? He'd been pretty damn sure he'd clamped down on his shadow when Articuno'd decided to actually listen to him, but clearly he hadn't. Might've been too much else on his mind to focus or something. Had he wandered into a train of thought that'd let it push him over the edge? Or had he been pushed over the edge by having not focused properly earlier? He couldn't tell. It had felt natural to think, at the time.

He averted his eyes from Articuno. "I'm fine, I'm fine."

 

[Jackie Cat]

"Fascinating... Certainly it is true that summoned heroes are rarely (if ever) older than mid-adolescence. Fallers can be of any age, but heroes are invariably youths..."

Articuno drank in the information Gladion provided, instantly believing that he had, in fact, spoken directly to the personification of the underworld about the logistical considerations of summoning humans from other realities. They were a good enough judge of honesty, and rational enough not to dismiss information that was likely trustworthy. That helped.

Then when Gladion's voice dropped precipitously as his humours darkened, Articuno narrowed their eyes, a gleam of psionic power shining through their mask.

"Master Gladion, your aura... your voice. What does this signify?"

They sounded like they'd already made their own conclusion.

"It signifies that he is grappling with some form of despair," came a familiar, time-worn voice.

Leaning on a wooden staff, and looking more haggard even than he had when he'd spoken to Nova some weeks ago, was Powehi in his guise as a Lucario. Had Gladion's spike in Shadow energy allowed him to manifest here...?

"Well-met, Winter Arbiter. I am the Jackal of Lethe... eater of departed souls."

Beneath the infinite, fathomless world-weariness on his face... was he cracking a joke?

"...but you may call me Powehi, as the boy does."

Articuno bowed to Dark Matter, their eyes burning with curiousity.

"It is... a pleasure to meet you, Powehi," they said, enraptured. They glanced at Gladion, likely reassessing their estimation of his account, comparing it to their first impressions of the Lucario in front of them...