-6- Ascentions.

Grace picked herself up from Rennin Gymnasium's floor using the common method and walked to its ring-side seating to meet with Joe, whose expression was slightly more annoyed than concerned. She managed to levitate after covering a short distance, although her toes were dragging.

Joe reached out to her to brush her disheveled hair back into order. "Have you had enough for today?"

Grace leapt up against Joe's chest, compelling him to catch her. She sighed softly. "I could go a couple more rounds if you're up to it."

"I'm not the one getting hit," Joe said, as he began to carry her with him to another circle, where Burner was warming up in preparation for a match.

"But you're feeling every blow you see me take. Joe, in that last moment before she left, my mother," Grace paused to find an appropriate adjective, "communicated a few things to me; why she was leaving me with you and what she hoped you would do for me and what I could do for you. She wanted you to protect me from those men, and you did. She wanted you to give me a home, and you did. She hoped you could give me not just care, but family and love, and I have it--"

A referee signaled the beginning of Burner's match. Burner charged a bastiodon standing opposite him with a fierce battle cry.

"--but I need you to trust me; that I know what I'm doing. Bumps and bruises now are what I need to become strong enough to protect myself, because if something truly threatening comes, you won't be able to protect me, Joe, and I will be the only thing that can protect you."

Joe and Grace's attention was drawn from their conversation as Burner shrieked and, using a move that looked suspiciously like a blaze-kick, sent his foe flying into a neighboring circle where it collided with an armaldo that was about to water-gun a graveler.

Grace shrugged. "Okay, one of two things."

A Rennin Gym staff member approached Joe. "Congratulations to you and your combusken. With this victory he is qualified to play in today's spotlight matches. However, excessive throws are not permitted in League, including our public-entry events. Instruct your pokemon to use proper restraint or you risk disqualification."

Burner staggered up near Joe, Grace, and the referee, out of breath. "Master Joe, I think--" He grimaced and fell forward, gripping Joe's jacket and tearing it in a few places with his claws. "--it's happening. But, it burns. Cold!"

The referee's eyes grew wide. "Come with me." He ushered Joe, Grace, and Burner to the facility's back halls and sent the shivering combusken into one of the rooms, locking its pocket door behind him.

Joe was rightfully concerned. "Hey, what's wrong with him? Isn't he just evolving?"

"That one came from a private breeder, didn't it?"

Joe nodded in affirmation. "I think so. He was a gift."

Burner began to shriek wildly; the chamber door did not provide much sound dampening.

"A couple breeders favor a particular blaziken bloodline that's exceptionally strong and fast, but sometimes suffers a very violent evolution to final-form." A loud thud resonated from behind the wall. "It would probably be best if you wait in our lobby."



Grace sat in Joe's lap and idly tuned-in to thoughts of people crossing the room. Most of the foot traffic was of kids who heard about an open-entry event and brought their pet pokemon to the gym, not expecting to receive such a sound and immediate thrashing for their trouble.

Joe was ambiguously concerned. He remembered Grace's first evolution and the bloody feathers in the undeveloped lots from Burner's first, and wondered just what his friend was enduring now.

Grace picked up on Joe's curiosity and tried to detect Burner's psyche from afar, but doing so only brought her a vision of absolute agony from his perspective, his eyes watering with pain as his now lanky and distorted body struggled to harness an energy inside that seemed to want to make him not grow but burst. Flames streaming from his newly-reshaped wrists and ankles suggested that the latter result might come to pass.

Tuning-out proved more difficult than tuning-in, and Grace began to squirm sympathetically for a moment, before her mind was drawn like a magnet to another psychic presence. One of her own kind.

Joe asked Grace, "what are you staring at?" as she watched the gym's entrance intently. A trainer in his early twenties came inside with a gardevoir gliding behind him. Joe's question now answered, he watched with great interest as his pokemon and the stranger's subtly interacted. A glance, a twitch of a wrist, a blink, a wiggle of a gill; these were the only outward clues of their conversation.

The trainer quickly filled out a card to schedule floor time for a league match, submitted it to the attendant, and turned to leave. His gardevoir trailed behind him, but paused as they passed by Joe and Grace. It bent forward and placed its palms on Grace's temples for a moment. Letting go, it stared into Joe's eyes.

Joe felt himself being probed, and in such a way that he could not react to it. It reminded him of Grace's inducing paralysis in him. As he remembered that, the gardevoir stopped for a heartbeat, tilted its head slightly, and probed him again. After five seconds, the gardevoir smiled and turned away to rejoin her master, who was waiting patiently at the doors. As they exited, a cold gust of winter air blew through the lobby.

"Grace, do you know what that was about." Joe fully expected her to synchronize with him and explain in detail, her mind speaking directly to his own.

Grace drew his arms across herself like a safety belt and said nothing as she rested against his body.

Soon, the referee approached. "Your pokemon's evolution is complete. He's being checked-out by our staff nurse as a formality; you can wait here if you like, but he did ask for you."

The referee led Joe and Grace to the rear corridors again, to a different door that revealed something much like a Pokecenter treatment room, where he found Burner sitting on its exam table. Joe's blaziken's eyes lit up as he appeared in the doorway.

"Master Joe! How do I look?"

The nurse stuck a long thermometer deep into Burner's mouth.

Joe was rather stunned. "Oh, wow. You're--even more impressive."

Burner bounded off of the table and reached Joe in one stride. Realizing the now-reversed disparity between their heights, the blaziken knelt to one knee and gripped Joe in a powerful hug.

An audino whistled and slapped the exam table's cushion, to which Burner reluctantly returned.

Joe whipped out his T.D. and called up information on the blaziken species. It claimed an average height of six-foot-three. He discreetly got the nurse's attention and took her aside while Grace approached Burner and offered to converse psychically since his mouth was occupied.

"Isn't he a little tall?"

The nurse hummed and prepared an injection. "Tallest blaziken I've ever met."

"The ref said he had a weird evolution because of some genetic thing, is that why?"

The nurse recognized what was going on. This was not the first time that a young and inexperienced trainer felt suddenly intimidated by his developed starter.

"Genetics can explain the average height of a population, but not an individual. Much of that is up to chance and circumstance. I've heard some old wives' tales about giving a pokemon a magic item or rare candy to make them stronger or taller when they evolve, but it's all hogwash." She leaned in close with a hand on Joe's shoulder and spoke low. "When they opened that door, the only thing all 215 centimeters of him wanted to do was see you; that is, you being yourself. The only effect his new body should have on your relationship is to bring you closer together."

Grace's eyes were narrowed. "At least he lets you evolve." She removed one hand to jiggle the everstone necklace she wore.

Mouth still occupied, Burner let Grace read his internal monologue for his reply. "You probably still have a bit more to go, since you don't win fights as much as I do. Even if you are ready to evolve and that thing is stopping you, didn't it come with a warning to be patient or something? Maybe the old man who made those Halloween gifts knows things."

The nurse approached and took Burner's thermometer while wearing a glove that looked somewhat like an oven mitt. "Sixty-three degrees-C on the inside. A little low, but it will probably come into the seventies in a couple days."

The audino approached with a tray holding a number of syringes.

"Alright, time for shots. Show me you're a brave bird and lie on your belly for me."

The blaziken glanced at the size of her needles and gulped a bit. He glanced at Joe, who returned a nod and a subtle smile.

Burner assumed the position.



"Mr. Rainier, how good of you to answer your door. May I come in?" Mr. Well crossed James' welcome mat with a nod and a smile, and with an articuno following leisurely behind.

"Care for a look around?" James asked sarcastically as the old man wandered through the Rainier home.

Mr. Well soon found his way to the breakfast table and seated himself. James followed and sat opposite, arms folded. Ivana continued touring on her own, enjoying its quaint and practical design.

"I'll be honest, James--oh, I do hope you don't mind a loss of formality."

"Anything for you, Simon."

Mr. Well smiled and leaned back slightly. "I've been on a bit of a losing streak lately, and this shiny ralts thing has been stuck in my craw. I would like to turn it into a win, just for the principle. I would like to ask you to convince your son to trade her to me. I can secure for him pretty much any pokemon he would like, of course." Simon reached out to pet his articuno as she returned to his side, "with a few particular exceptions that is, and you too will be rewarded for your effort."

"If you want to offer a trade, fine; I'll leave that decision up to him. But, I'm not going to look him in the eye and tell him that he should do business with someone like you. My son's respect is worth more to me than anything you could offer."

"Is it? Time heals all wounds, if you let it. How much time will you have to enjoy that respect, after spending all your money on that new pool instead of applying it toward treatment?"

James' eyes grew wide, as did those of Marianne, who hovered discretely above the refrigerator.

"How did you find out about that?"

"You know I have my sources. I'm willing to scratch your back if you'll scratch mine. Of course, if you still wish to leave this matter between him and me, I won't mention this lagniappe that I will still honor. I would not want him to feel like he's being extorted. Emotions cloud judgments, especially in children and young adults. Do you have alcohol in this house?"

"A little."

"Pour two fingers for each of us. I have a little story I would like to share with you."



Joe pedaled his bicycle carefully through the few inches of snowfall that covered much of the sidewalk. "It's in my account, but you earned it. It's your money."

Burner jogged behind his master, leaving a trail of snow-free circles wherever his feet touched ground. He claimed that he wanted to see if his stamina increased with his evolution, but truly Burner just felt like showing off to his neighborhood that he had achieved his first goal in life before his master chose to journey, ensuring him an advantage in early competition. "I need to buy you a new jacket."

"Buy something you want, Burner. This jacket will stitch up okay." Joe came to a stop at a traffic signal. He looked back at Burner, who was still standing tall, but with a muted expression. "Hey, I'm not turning you down. I just don't want to get it now, wear it a couple months, put it in my closet, and out-grow it by next winter. Give my body some time to try to catch up with yours first, big guy. Then you can get me something that I can wear forever."

The light changed, and they continued homeward.

"A controller."

"What?"

"I also broke your game controller. I can replace it, now."

"Burner, I said I want you to buy something for yourself."

They turned a corner to head down their home street. Hearing familiar voices and looking up from shoveling the Finnegan home's driveway, Sam's jaw dropped when he saw what had become of Burner. So much for that promise he made to spar again after the grovyle evolved; even as a sceptile, Sam knew that he would need to overdose on X-defend just to stand his ground against a blaziken like that. Burner waved to him energetically; Sam raised his right palm in response, the icy weather and physical labor having drained any vestige of energetic from his body.

Joe pulled into his driveway and parked his bicycle alone.

Burner looked at his home from its driveway, realizing that the interior will have shrunken one last time. He called ahead to Joe as they approached the front door. "It will be for myself. I want to be able to play games with you, and against you, again."

"Alright, it's your money. If that's what you want." Joe entered his house twisted sideways to see and speak behind himself. "But, I'm not going to let you win just so you don't get frustrated and break the new--oof!"

As Joe turned forward again, he walked directly into a broad breast of bright, blue-tinted feathers.

Ivana wrapped her left wing around Joe and cooed. Then, she shooed him away to rub elbows with the fiery hunk that stepped inside next.

Joe instinctively covered Grace's dive ball with his hand when he neared the kitchen and saw Mr. Well seated at the breakfast table. Burner noticed Joe's motion, and shifted into a more-readied stance. Ivana churred; she liked watching males being manly.

James wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. "Joe, this is Mr. Simon Well; who we've met before. He wants to trade for Grace."

Mr. Well was slightly annoyed at James' bluntness, but soldiered on. "I'm willing to offer you almost any pokemon in the world. Aside from Ivana," Simon glanced her way as she stood against Burner, "assuming she doesn't decide to stay here for the meat, and a few legends that I have only zero or one of, name the species and it's yours. Gender and nature I can probably match too, and of course I will ensure you still have a shiny on your belt. If I don't have one in the species you choose, then choose another species and you get a two-for-one."

Joe's expression hinted at disgust after hearing Simon's proposition. "Wha--no. Not in a million years! I don't care about pokemon; I care about my fr--" Joe rubbed Grace's ball with his fingertips and looked into Burner's eyes, "--my family."

James did not let twitch a single muscle. Mr. Well slowly rose from his chair. "If that's how you see them." Simon produced a business card and handed it to Joe. "For when you correct your perspective. You will get Max, my personal assistant. He knows your name and why you will be calling." Mr. Well replaced his hat and saw himself out. "Ivana, come along; you can't take him home with you."

Ivana squawked low, plucked a feather from beneath her wing with her beak, and stabbed it into Burner's mane like she were resting a quill in an inkwell after penning a bold declaration. She exited behind Mr. Well with an arrogant strut.

Joe turned to face his father. "What was that about?"

"Did you have fun at the gym? I can see Burner had a big day."

"Y--yeah. He won some prize money, too. Can you take us to Linalool Mall? He wants to buy a new controller so we can play video games together again."

"I can do that later." James picked up the shot glasses, re-lidded his bottle of scotch and, gestured with it toward Joe. "After I give this an hour or two to wear off."



Sam shivered and shook away some light flakes of snow that settled upon him as he worked before entering his home. Glancing to his left, he saw Frankie gnawing on beef jerky and surfing channels. A local broadcast warned of even colder weather tonight with heavy winds.

He slowly trudged to his master's chamber, turned on a pair of heat lamps above his cot, and collapsed gently onto his bedding. "Your chores are done."

Percival did not look away from his homework. "Thanks."

Sam wiggled his shoulders, hoping to loosen a tightness that had been born of strain and chill as broad-spectrum light soaked through his scales. "The T.V. said it will be a bad night."

"Cross your claws. I don't think I'm going to get anything better than a 'C' unless tomorrow's a snow day."

"What is it?"

"Poetry analysis. It's all crap; a bunch of guys making things up and writing them down. But, if I don't figure out what I supposed to have to say about it, I'm toast."

Sam flipped over to expose his belly to the lamps' glow.

Percival dropped his pencil into the fold of his opened textbook and rested his forehead on his knuckles. "Ugh. I just don't get this."

"If you can't beat them, join them."

"What?"

"You tried fighting against this assignment. Now, fight beside it. Write your own made-up free verse poetry that your teacher will think is about this assignment."

"You know if my grades aren't high enough, the League won't let me journey next summer."

His body warmed and metabolism normal again, Sam's stomach growled. "I help Master when I can, but I do not worry about Master's affairs." Sam rolled off of his cot and exited.

In the kitchen he met Delilah who was fixing-up cocoa. "Plenty of leftovers in there; y'all can just graze tonight."

Sam popped into the fridge to find a cup of fruit cocktail and brought a cup of cocoa with him to give to Percival.

A small shelf above his cot held all that the grovyle could call his own. A bonsai tree and a small box of supplies to tend to it dominated the scene. A few books stood in a row--thick, old, and rather rarefied in subject matter for a pokemon, although there were not many able pokemon who cared to read books at all. After placing the cocoa on Percival's desk, Sam brought his bonsai down beneath the lights and examined it for places to prune. "Burner evolved."

"That was fast." Percival struck out a line of his supposedly-poetic attempt to write fluff answers to fluff questions on a fluff assignment. "Frankie should still be able to give him some trouble until you catch up."

Sam hesitated for a moment, closed his eyes, and imagined. He shook his head. When he opened his eyes, he had decided on one spot to trim on his tree. He replaced it on his self and brought down a book to read.

Percival scratched out another draft paragraph and discarded his pencil again. "This isn't going to work. It's all crap." He reached for a mug of cocoa that mysteriously appeared beside him at some point.

Sam propped up a pillow against the wall to rest against and opened to his bookmark. "Good. You said the same thing about your assigned poetry."

"So?"

"So, you must have figured it out to produce more of it. If you understand it, you can complete your assignment."

"What I've produced is ridiculous, Sam!"

Sam paused as he remembered something, before flipping back to page 214. "Ridiculum acri fortius et melius magnas plerumque secat res."

Percival rolled his eyes. "Are those wizard words? What does that mean to me?"

"The ridiculous often cuts down imposing things. I think."

"Well then, thanks for the inspirational fortune cookie message. You've been a lot of help." Percival's sarcasm was not diluted by the cocoa he did not have to get for himself.

Sam limited his response to picking at his cup of fruit chippings with a smirk and a plastic fork.



As Joe and Burner exchanged boastful small-talk while waiting for their game's splash screens to pass by, Grace slipped away unnoticed. With Joe's T.D. in-hand, she headed for the pokemon room, but felt an odd sensation coming from James as she passed through the living room, and despite that forewarning, jumped a little when he called her name.

"Grace. Sit down over here."

She floated backwards to the love seat and settled upon it, sitting with her knees near her chest. A defensive posture felt right for the situation.

"A man visited this home, today. The same man who sent a couple thugs into the forest to catch a certain ralts. Did you know this?"

"Not really. Inside my ball, I felt that Joe was very tense and angry for a moment but that's all. I also noticed he was hiding something emotionally since he released me tonight. You've been, too."

"A few months ago, I made a decision. A hard one, but I think the right one, given our circumstances. Mr. Well today altered those circumstances a bit."

Grace noticed his hesitation at explaining further. "If it is hard to explain, you can let me look."

"No. You'll never do that to me again." James hung his head for a moment before turning to Grace. "Look me in my eyes and tell me you will take care of him for me when I can't."

"I promise you, I will do anything for his well-being."

James cracked half of a smile, the most he had ever shown her, and waved her away. As she neared her room's door, she looked back and ventured to infer his mental state. It was the first time that she sensed him thinking of her as part of his household.

Inside her room, Grace propped up some pillows to lean against and began exploring Joe's trainer's device. She idly studied entries for pokemon species she recognized and even spent a little time playing a built-in game that let trainers practice playing a simulation of their team against those of other trainers. Grace felt a cold sensation against her right shoulder as she investigated an option labeled "PLSN."

A voice carried on cool air breezed by. "Yeah, see how much money he has in there."

Grace glanced to her right, coming face to face with a menace. "What? Why?"

"Because if there's a lot you can order a dusk stone, have it delivered at the local Center, and make me a happy little ghostie."

"I'm not going to spend Joe's money on you. Why don't you go bother Percival? He's got connections."

"I checked out your neighbors already. That kid's pink sheep had a nasty thunder-punch, and I'm sure it grew nastier a few minutes later when it went bald and turned yellow. I'd rather be annoying around pokemon I'm confident I can beat."

"Why don't you go annoy your own trainer?"

"Can't."

"I don't think there's anyone you can't annoy."

"He left me a long time ago. He promised he would be back but he never came back."

"So he ditched you? I can't imagine why, with your benevolent disposition and positive attitude."

"He didn't ditch me, you bitch, he got killed! Because I--." The hovering jewels of Marianne's necklace began to rattle as she looked downward.

Grace set Joe's T.D. aside. "I'm sorry. I didn't--"

"No! You didn't think that maybe one person out there used to care about me!" Marianne screamed and slammed Grace with a point-blank shadow-ball, sending her rolling across the room against a stacked pile of boxes. "Heartless bitch," she whispered. Two tears splashed against the ceiling as Marianne retreated to the attic.

James threw the door open to investigate the noise, discovering only Grace struggling to rise and two pillows strewn across the floor. He helped her to her feet and asked, "Grace, what happened in here?"

Joe and Burner appeared behind James while Grace gripped her chest where she was sore from the shadow-ball's strike. "The misdreavus and I hurt each a little, is all."

Joe reached out to her and led her away. "Come on, I've got a spray in my bag."

James exited too, but Burner lingered. His eyes' proximity to the ceiling helped him notice its two tiny wet spots. "Ghost?" he asked quietly.

A moment later, Marianne barely peeked down through the ceiling. The yellow parts of her eyes were redder than usual.

"I don't think you're going about this the right way."

Marianne did not obviously respond, hovering still.

Burner ran a finger through the two teardrops on the ceiling. "Do you want to talk to someone about this? I will listen to you, if it will help solve this problem we all have."

"I do. But, I don't think it would." Marianne ascended and vanished from sight.

In his bedroom, Joe finished spraying Grace with a small blue can of topical medication. "There, how's that?"

Grace stretched and yawned dramatically. "Much better, but I'm still a little woozy. I think I should rest." With abundant energy, Grace leapt to the head of Joe's bed, slipped beneath the covers, used her telekinetic powers to shut the door and flick off the light, and patted the empty space beside her.

Burner witnessed this from outside Joe's room, and realized that their gaming was over for the night. He altered his destination and targeted the love seat instead after getting something to drink.

James offered him some popcorn, which the blaziken accepted. After surfing a few channels, James muted the audio. "I know Grace is at a type disadvantage, but isn't there anything you can do about that pest?"

"I can hurt her. Do you want a flaming ghost flying through the walls of your home?"

"No, my insurance probably wouldn't cover it."