Dakota cleared his throat.
"It's, ah, quite alright. It's already public record that the recent group of arrivals
are offworlders, you know. And I did come here expecting to find exactly that – a group of strangers to Sohavenia, perhaps a little confused, either here by some distortion in the world or because they were... Well.
Summoned."
"But don't that just seem unfair? That sorta power goes only to the 'chosen', or to the chosen of chosen? What 'bout the ordinary 'mon? Ain't that how ya get stuff like the former mayor? It's almost like royalty. Who even decided that freedom belonged to birthright?"
“It’s irony is what it is… Humans as they really are? They’re weak, they’re frail, they’re helpless… at least, compared to most any Pokémon… and yet, throw a human soul into a Pokémon’s body and suddenly you’ve got some kind of super-combo… No wonder it gets to people’s heads so easily… they forget what humans really ought to be… they’re companions to Pokémon-kind, not these selfish dominators and usurpers over them… the whole thing destroys a perfectly harmonious balance.”
"The ghost's right. What you're describing is a broken system. One that's ripe for exploiting. Or it's all a symptom of a greater problem. Something beyond the Entropic Crisis."
"I've never met this Jesse person, but if what you say is true, then... I worry for what's in store for Forlas. Why summon so many of us here when there's already powerful pokemon that could help?"
The Monferno blew a long cloud of smoke and twirled his cigarette between his fingers.
"You four sirs had
several questions and suppositions worth an answer, so I'll try my level best to offer my two cents."
He gestured with an upturned palm to each 'mon in turn, starting with Steven.
"The truth is, nobody in the world truly knows how
summoning humans really works, or who does it. Some say it's the will of the world made manifest. Others attribute it to a particular saint or god. Sometimes the reason for their arrival is already evident, but not always. The Entropic Crisis was recognised by Sierra Escarpa before anyone else, but it took nearly a year just to convince anyone besides Jesse Stranger that it was even happening."
Then Nova.
"Systems are things put in place by civilised people. Insitutions, procedures, mechanisms. Humans being what they are? That's just nature."
Then Ghaspius.
"And nature isn't always
fair, my friend. At least, not in the sense that you use the word! Each species has its own attributes, including strengths and weaknesses. Such things are not doled out equitably or by our own choice – perhaps I'd rather have your freedom to ignore gravity and phase through solid matter, or you'd rather have my flame always at hand. But alas! We are what we are."
Then Corey.
"Young sir, you seem awfully sure you've got the matter of pokémon and humans entirely figured out. These presuppositions about what's natural and proper... I wonder if you've considered that they may not hold true, in a world other than your own?"
He let the thought breathe a moment, and took another lungful of smoke.
"My family has preserved stories of a world of pokémon and humans," he continued. "In these tales, it is said that at one time, a human took up a sword and slew pokémon in pursuit of martial strength. Countless pokémon. Enough that the hills and forests grew silent, as they hid from him, or were slaughtered. He later came to realise that he had forsaken his responsibility to nature, and cast aside his sword. But you see, he was not especially strong for his kind. He was notable only for his ambition, and his aggression – it was simply the nature of his world that an individual of his species could slay wild pokémon with ease.
"Young sir, you put it to me that humans are naturally frail and helpless, and that they are meant to be companions to pokémon, in... how did you put it? Harmonious balance. Well, I put it to you that humans only
exist in Forlas to make use of their great strength. To protect and safeguard this world and its inhabitants. It is nothing less than their moral responsibility to do so."
He smiled to himself, eyes flicking away to look at a memory only he could see.
"That was something Ignatius Voclain never truly understood. More's the pity."
