"Well, I'm not sure if there is much. Our summoner said that they simply took souls willing to help, and I suppose I fit the bill. But back home, I'm just a painter."
"A painter?" Sam's eyes brightened again. "What sort of painter? I'm not an art buff or anything, but in the Commonwealth right now I hear they're big on Arcadian realism, neo-mythic revival, shellwork-nouveau... and in Novelux there's a lot of
really new stuff inspired by tech, I guess, but I'm not really into it.
Ehehe, I'm not sophisticated – I mostly just like landscapes and anything that makes me feel something."
She really
meant that she wasn't an art buff. She was just trying hard to seem
interested. If Andre asked her about any of the art movements she'd listed off, she'd probably flounder terribly. Maybe she was just probing to learn if any art movements were held in common between their worlds...
"What about her gramps? Huh?"
Then the conversation veered towards heavier topics.
“I’ll admit, it’s a bit hard to imagine the Covenant’s leadership having no position on the purpose of the group they’ve dedicated a lot of effort into… collecting. I mean, I hope they’ve got some good idea for why they’re doing that? Other than, you know, the power part? Articuno made it sound like they did?”
"Hatched a Misdreavus, and not a drop of human blood in these robes. Well, I'll say this; power ain't always everythin'. Sides, I'm an alchemist. My job is to understand nature, and then change whatever's there to better it. Whether that's makin' materials or curin' illnesses. S'all there is to it."
"So what do you think? About humans?"
Sam swallowed, and bit her lip. While she collected herself, Julius answered Gladion's inquiry.
"Do humans have to
have a 'purpose'?" he asked, rhetorically. "Summoned heroes evidently do, which I'll grant, but their descendants? There are some in the Covenant who believe that summoned humans are not
meant to remain on Forlas and have children, that all descendants are in some way a
side effect of the whole business..."
Julius didn't go so far as to say that
he believed this. Likely he wouldn't admit to it even if pressed. But the idea hung in the air nonetheless –
pokémon like Julius and Sam had no special destiny.
Roscoe nodded amicably, and his tail-hand produced a cigarette from his coat pocket, to gesture with. It remained unlit.
"Sure. And you know, you've got a point, there. Lotta descendants out there with nothing special going on, not everyone can be a fancy paragon, and all that. You and I, we've always agreed on that, Jools. But then again, you take a look at those saps in Magna..."
Julius sighed. "Okay, yes,
some members have some rather high-minded ideas about the mantle of responsibility they inherit, and so forth. Why are
they the 'real' Covenant? Why not me and all my extended family? Why not you and every other
normal pokémon?"
'Normal'. That wasn't a trivial little reference to aura type – both 'mon were Normal. No, Julius said the word with a kind of
faint envy. Almost longing. Suddenly, the dynamic between the pair had flipped. Roscoe was the one in control, and Julius the frustrated party. There was personal history to this, too much to glean at a glance, but still... Could it be that Julius wished he
wasn't distantly related to some human?
Roscoe didn't answer. He only smiled, and lit his smoke. He'd got Julius to admit that other,
worse opinions did exist outside this room. He'd won.
Julius huffed, and turned back to Gladion and Ghaspius. "Whatever. As for 'why' the Covenant recruits humans, I assumed Lord Articuno would have told you. In brief, it's partly a matter of gathering potentially-powerful 'mon to do some good in the world,
largely to safeguard against the misuse of such power—" here he glanced reflexively at Sam "—and fundamentally because human-descended 'mon, fallers, and so on
do not fit in. They need... The founders
wanted a community for them. For themselves, in fact. To not be alone."
He fell quiet, uncomfortable with his own agitation.
There were now enough eyes on Sam that she made a few anxious hedging sounds, and twiddled her claws together.
Laura tried to give her a reassuring look. "Whatever's eating you, it's okay. Sorry about all this. We've not had much chance to get good at tact, I guess."
"Fine," sighed the hulking Chesnaught. "Better out than in, I guess."
Roscoe took a long drag of his cigarette, and nodded politely to the Wayfarers.
"All right, I reckon I'm gonna go enjoy this stick outside before I get back to the millstone. It's been real swell meeting you guys."
Roscoe walked out into the gentle rain starting up in the courtyard. Julius' eyes followed him. Sam just gazed at the rest of the 'mon in the room, her expression settling into 'resignation'.
"My grandfather's grandmother was a summoned human.
She was a folk hero. Her grandson, my father's father... He was not. The opposite, really. A bandit. Not the heroic 'give-to-the-poor' kind – the
brutal kind. His name was Tamuk, and he killed a
lot of people."