Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Quenched Torch

Chapter 56: A Lull in the Storm

The door to the telegraph office creaked as the clocks struck eight, Samuel trudging in begrudgingly. As he opened up the window blinds, he glanced over to his fellow operator to watch her pack her things. At the very least, he guessed, he could have it worse. He didn't have to take the graveyard shift...

"Morning, Sam! Should be pretty slow today, the morning jam wasn't all that bad. Not much for you to clean up," she gave a little toothy smirk.

"Incredible," Samuel sighed bluntly, slapping his hand against the wall. Another day sitting on his rear doing nothing for six hours, it seemed like. "Thanks, Wil. Please tell me you set the frequency back for my shift this time. I'm going to claw my face off if I buzz in on the radio again."

"Course I did! You think I'd forget?" the other operator beamed.

"Yup. I do."

"Eesh, what crawled up your ass this morning?"

"...sorry, just. Frustrating morning," Samuel glanced over to Wilsa as he took his seat. "I appreciate it. Really, I do. Thank you."

"Yep, eheh! Don't worry, I feel you. Gotta help bake more bread once I get back; you know, even though I've been awake for twelve hours already. I'm gonna die, Sam."

"No please. You're all that makes this place bearable."

"Remember my name! Wilsa Álvarez, in memoriam!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll try. Yeah. ...oh, uh. Here, take this. For the Breloom, whenever she spores," Samuel tossed an Oran over to the other operator.

"Aw, thank you! She appreciates it! Eheh, maybe if you keep bribing her, she'll let us name one of the Shroomish after you once they germinate!" she gave another toothy smile as she made to leave.

"Thanks, Wil. Look forward to it," Samuel gave a little wave, sitting back in his chair as the door creaked closed. And so his shift began. Great. He sat there listening to the silence for a moment before putting his finger on the telegraph.

...CQ CQ CQ DE STR02 QTR 0802 RN K. "Anyone listening, this is Striaton station 2, time is 8:02. Over; go ahead, anyone," it translated to. It really was a wonder how easily he could make sense of these little beeps, he had to admit. As he tapped, though, the radio on the desk nearby paused in its chatter. Those beeps were sounding over the static; that was not supposed to happen.

"Oy vey. And there it is, second time this week, fellas. Morning, telegraph guy, glad to have you on the show again today, but wrong frequency, could you get off my airwaves? I'm trying to do the news here."

Swearing to himself, Samuel hurriedly scrambled to lower the transmitter's power. "Damn it, Wil, you said you'd..."

---

"...B-Beck?"

I jumped a bit as I snapped out of my daze, tearing my eyes from my bag to look towards Rye. "Yah?"

"Is everything... yknow, okay?" the Treecko cocked his head. "Y-you've been really quiet since the Caves. If something's going on, then... y-you know, I'm here to listen."

I hung my head as I started packing once again. No, everything was obviously not okay. But... would Rye understand? Every time I tried to put the Link question to rest, I'd be thinking about it again just an hour later. Even just knowing I couldn't definitively decide on destroying the world being a bad idea...

"...yeah. Am fine."

I couldn't put that on his shoulders too. Maybe once we didn't have this ahead of us, but...

Giving me a side-look, Rye just pursed his lips and looked over the map once more. "Um. O-okay. We'll get a Lapras to Westgrove, a wagon to the Samurott, but then... mgh. W-we've just gotta get over it. Then we somehow cross the Bronze Desert. W-we could just get a flyer, but the air currents don't go over it. And it's a long walk to the river..."

Watching us from his bed, Mavy just gave a sniff, frowning as he shifted in his wheel-legs. "You ain't forgettin' the bags, right?"

"No, w-we're not forgetting the bags," Rye sighed back. "Just. Yeah. W-we've got our work cut out for us... wh-what if Keldeo doesn't have any info? Or what if he isn't even there, or... yknow, real?"

"Rye," I said, putting my bag aside. "We'll be fine, yeah? We ahkay. Nah warry."

The Treecko frowned before nodding. "Right, j-just... guess we'll get there. Um, you think you'll be okay staying here, Mavy?"

"Sure, sure. Ah'll try and not sit on mah ass too hard 'n break my bones even more," Mavy shot back.

"N-no, I didn't mean like... sorry," Rye cringed.

"We bwing back samting nish, yeah?" I offered.

"Sure, sure," the Zigzagoon looked away, glowering for a moment. I couldn't quite tell if it was from frustration or pain, but I decided not to press; we had enough to worry about.

As we finished packing, Mavy cleared his throat to speak once more. "Yknow. If something happens and y'all need somewhere to hunker down, I got family down past the Twists in Granite Abode."

"Really? Um, y-you sure they'll be okay with us just...?" Rye asked.

"Sure. They got a whole farm, 'n as long as you tell em Mavy sentcha. They love me," Mavy smirked. Rye and I exchanged a look, not quite sure whether to take his word on that after everything.

"Um. Yeah, w-we'll keep it in mind," the Treecko nodded, zipping up his bag. "You'll take care of yourself, right?"

"You ain't leavin' till tomorrow. Why're you talkin' like it's right this moment?" Mavy asked.

"I-I'm just saying," Rye huffed. I didn't really take in much of what they were saying, though, as I took a seat on my bed to stare out the window.

"..."

---

"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration."

As Arcanine sat at the door to his quarters and watched Team Reach ride the Lapras ferry down the river, his claws dug firmly into the dirt. Though his teeth clenched, he could not tear his eyes from the two. He did not doubt their ability, not at all. But he knew what he was sending them into, especially after everything in the caves...

"I... will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me, and when it is gone past I shall turn the inner eye to see its path," he quoted to himself under his breath.

They deserved better than this. He'd had so many chances to let them rest, to pull them out of this situation. Both had lost everything; and Beck, he'd had this all dumped onto his shoulders so quickly. The future of the world depended on the Oshawott's choice, but...

"Where the fear has gone, there will be nothing. ...only I will... remain.

...Arceus on high. God our father. Whoever may be listening, please. Forgive me for this," the Guildmaster hung his head slowly as the Lapras disappeared up the river.