In the burning Pokémon Center, Ryan had been caught unawares by Team Flare. A pair of them knocked him unconscious, dragging him along as they made their escape. He had been thrown into the back of some vehicle, and had only come to after a particularly large bump in the road startled him awake.
Dimly, he registered his surroundings. The back of the vehicle was empty but for one crate on which a guard sat, his face in shadow. It was too dark to tell, but Ryan thought that the guard’s eyes might have widened when he saw that Ryan was conscious. However, he made no move to call anyone else.
A short time later, the vehicle stopped. Ryan noted the briefness of the journey; apparently Professor Sycamore had been right about the proximity of Team Flare’s base. The back of the vehicle opened, and three other Team Flare Grunts looked in.
“We’ve arrived,” said one, rather unnecessarily. Ryan’s guard gave him a withering look before hopping out of the vehicle. They looked back at Ryan expectantly, and he realized that he was not bound. He held his hands out in front of him and gave the guards a questioning look.
“We’re not cruel,” said one of them in response. “Contrary to what you seem to believe, this is not a kidnapping. The Scientists wish to speak with you.”
Ryan remembered Fylon’s look of fear after the skirmish at the laboratory. Were these the same Scientists? His initial reaction was that he didn’t want anything to do with them, and he considered making a break for it, but then he stopped to consider. He still wasn’t sure that Team Flare was bad. And if Fylon was on the wrong side, wouldn’t it make sense that Team Flare wanted to stop him? They were taking it to extremes, in Ryan’s opinion, but that didn’t prove anything.
So he decided to go with the Grunts to speak with the Scientists, with the thought that if they were going to harm him, they would have done so already.
The Grunts led him down many flights of stairs, and up many more, so that by the time they stopped, Ryan had no idea where he was. They had came to a halt at a pair of tall doors, inlaid with numerous precious metals. The doors were an imposing sight, such that Ryan felt even more nervous than before. It was as if the mysterious leader wanted to show off his absolute power by displaying these metals, without a care for thieves. Ryan supposed that the show of power alone was enough to frighten most rogues away.
He was just bracing himself to enter to speak with the Scientists when a faint ring came from behind him. One of his captors sighed, bringing out a Holo Caster. Ryan had never seen one, but he knew it from Professor Sycamore’s description.
“Jarret here,” said the Grunt, speaking into the Holo Caster. It was on audio mode, and so didn’t display the speaker. Whoever it was on the other end must have known that Ryan was with them, and so didn’t want to reveal anything about their identity. Whatever the Grunts had said earlier, Ryan wasn’t convinced he wasn’t a prisoner.
“Uh-huh,” said Jarret. “Yes, ma’am. Right away.”
He put away the Holo Caster and turned to Ryan and the other Grunts. “Change of plan. We’re bringing him to a cell for now. Miss Celosia is away on business, and he’ll wait there until she returns.”
The others nodded to show they understood. Ryan sighed. Yes, he was most definitely a prisoner now.
After navigating a few more twists, turns, and flights of stairs, Ryan found himself outside another door, though this was did not look nearly so impressive as the earlier ones. It was filthy in places, and exuded a pungent odor.
One of Ryan’s captors kicked the door open instead of pushing it, as if afraid of getting dirt on his red suit. The odor intensified as the door swung open, revealing a short hallway with prison cells on either side. There was only one other prisoner that Ryan could see, huddled in a corner, covered in filthy rags.
“Here,” grunted one of the Grunts, slamming a key into one of the cell doors. He opened it, and motioned for Ryan to go in. There was nothing in the cell but a small stool, a blanket, and a chamber pot, which did not look as if it had been cleaned in a while, and was probably what gave off such a foul stench.
Ryan muttered something under his breath that Elder Arhan wouldn’t have liked, but stepped into the cell anyway.
*
It was hours before anyone came into the prison room, and when the door finally opened, Ryan jerked out of a stupor and rushed to the front of the cell. A Grunt stood there; not one of the ones who had led him to the cell. The other prisoner shifted for a moment, but did not reveal his face.
“You’re to speak with the Scientists, now,” said the Grunt, unlocking Ryan’s cell. He did not open the door for Ryan, however, so Ryan pushed it open himself. He stepped out, and then followed the Grunt out of the room, leaving the other prisoner behind.
Ryan was greeted by a wave of fresh air as he left the prison room. He had grown used to the stink of the chamber pots, and so even the musty underground air of the laboratories smelled clean to him.
The Grunt led him back through the maze of hallways, until they stopped at a door that Ryan supposed was the same one he had nearly gone through earlier, although they all looked the same to him. The Grunt shoved it open.
The room in which Ryan now found himself was one of grandeur, with marble floors and walls, and gold-leaf on the ceiling. It was so unlike the dingy prison room that Ryan found it hard to believe that they were in the same building, if one could call it a building.
Four women were seated on a dais, behind a sort of podium. They all wore a uniform of red, similar to the one worn by the five Grunts Ryan had seen, but far more ornate. These uniforms were meant to show authority. In addition to this, each had a different hair color, which was very bright, but did not look dyed.
Ryan was led to a chair in the center of the room, in which he supposed he was to sit. He sat obligingly, and waited for the women to speak.
“We are the Scientists, and the topmost administrators in the organization of Team Flare,” intoned the one with purple hair. Her voice was completely devoid of boastfulness, or indeed any emotion at all. She sat in the middle, and appeared to have the most authority. Could she be the mysterious leader? Ryan dismissed the thought immediately; the leader would not reveal himself or herself so easily after going to such lengths to keep his or her identity a secret.
“There is no reason why you should not know our names,” said the purple-haired woman, as if reading Ryan’s thoughts, “especially since when we eventually release you, as we plan to, you will no doubt hear them from Sycamore. I am Celosia. To my right is Mable…” – she indicated the woman with blue hair – “...and Aliana…” – she now gestured at the one with golden hair – “...while Bryony sits on my left.” She pointed to the last one, who had green hair.
“Together,” Celosia continued, “we are the very highest authority in Team Flare, save for our honored leader. His name you will not learn from us,” she added, seeing the look on Ryan’s face.
“We have decided to speak with you regarding your part in the events to come,” said Mabel. “First, however, we would like to learn your name. And do tell the truth, for Celosia always knows when you lie.”
Ryan hesitated for a long moment, and then gave his name.
“Ryan…” said Bryony, making a quick note on a pad of paper before her. “How is it that you came to be with Sycamore and his band of Trainers?”
“He came to my hometown and offered me a chance to save the world,” said Ryan rather stiffly, provoking an amused laugh from Bryony. She jotted down his response to this as well, evidently taking notes for the duration of the meeting.
“Save the world from us, I would imagine,” said Celosia. “Sycamore has never had a talent for subtlety. And nor do you, I might add.”
This drew another round of laughter, this time from all the other Scientists. Ryan decided it was best to say nothing.
“Well, if that’s the case, we should also offer you a chance to save the world,” said Aliana.
“How’s that?” asked Ryan. “You’re the ones it’s in danger from.”
“And I wonder who told you that? I’d hazard a guess at Sycamore,” said Aliana with a raised eyebrow.
“So what if it was?” said Ryan defiantly. He was finding that he was growing to like Team Flare less and less, with their improperly maintained prison cells and their wit at his and Professor Sycamore’s expense.
“So the world is in danger from Sycamore and his idea of an Elemental Spectrum,” said Aliana. “He plans to stop us with it, but we present no danger to him or anyone. And after he stops us, what prevents the power from going to his head, and him trying to conquer Kalos with it?”
“Professor Sycamore is an honorable man, and I’m starting to think your supposedly honored leader isn’t!” said Ryan. He had to admit that it wasn’t his best retort, but it would do.
“We shall take that as an unwillingness on your part to join us?” said Celosia, almost dangerously.
“Yes,” said Ryan with defiance.
“Very well,” Celosia snarled. “Take him away!”
The Grunt motioned for Ryan to follow him, and they left the grand room.
*
A few hours later, back in his cell, Ryan was awakened from a nap on the blanket by a shuffling sound, and he realized that the other prisoner was making his way over to him. Ryan scrambled back, but the prisoner lifted the hood of his ragged coat, revealing the head of a young man not much older than Ryan. The prisoner’s hair was pure white, and his features were hawklike and sharp, though he couldn’t have been over twenty.
“Who are you?” Ryan managed to say.
“I? I might ask you the same question,” said the prisoner in a hoarse voice, as if he hadn’t used it in quite some time. “I have been the only one here for nigh on five years, and now you appear. Team Flare hasn’t taken a captive in a long while. What news of the outside world can you give me?”
Ryan thought frantically. If this young man had been imprisoned for five years, he must have done something really horrible to deserve it. Ryan relaxed a bit, however, when he recalled that Team Flare were the ones to imprison him, and an enemy of Team Flare was a friend of Ryan.
“I’m Ryan,” he said, extending a hand. The other prisoner shook it through the bars of the cell. “I was captured by Team Flare after they raided a Pokémon Center where we had stopped for the night.”
“We?” inquired the other prisoner.
“Professor Sycamore,” said Ryan, and the prisoner inhaled sharply in recognition, “and seventeen others.”
At this, the prisoner started. “Seventeen? Then you’re the eighteenth….He really means to do it, doesn’t he?”
“Do what?” asked Ryan in confusion.
“An Elemental Spectrum,” said the prisoner, as if that were obvious.
“Oh. Yes, he does.”
“I never would have thought to see it,” breathed the prisoner. He began to mutter to himself. Ryan fidgeted self-consciously, and the prisoner seemed to notice that he was there.
“Oh, excuse me,” said the prisoner. “My name is Zavier.” He pronounced the name with two syllables, and the emphasis on the second. He and Ryan shook hands again.
“Why are you a prisoner here?” asked Ryan. “Did you do something against Team Flare?”
Zavier laughed. “I guess you could say that. Or rather, my father did. He was the king of Kalos, once.”
As far as Ryan knew, the final Kalosian kings had ruled three-thousand years ago. He looked at Zavier uncomprehendingly, until the latter laughed again.
“My father was Azoth, better known in the last century or so as AZ,” said Zavier. “Let me tell you his story.
“Azoth was the last king of Kalos, over three-thousand years before now. His treacherous brother Lysson, however, wanted the kingdom for himself. Lysson’s schemes eventually escalated into a massive war, felt across more regions than this one.
“Azoth and his beloved Pokémon, Floette, fought valiantly in the war, but Floette was ultimately killed. After the war had ended, and Lysson defeated, Azoth built a machine that was intended to harness the great force of Life itself, and restore life to Floette.
“But there can be no life without death, and so it was that the machine revived Floette at the cost of the lives of many Pokémon who fought in the war. When Floette saw what Azoth had done, although it was not intentional, the Pokémon left him. Devastated, Azoth stepped down from his role as king, ended the monarchy, and began to wander the world for his beloved Floette. His wanderings took him as far as the ends of Kalos, and possibly even beyond.
“He had been wandering for three-thousand years, as he had been made immortal by the same machine that had restored Floette’s life, when he was captured by the leader of Team Flare. Lysandre is a descendant of Lysson, and he is determined to finish his ancestor’s work. Lysandre had tried to take a key that Azoth still wore, the key to the machine, which has since been renamed ‘the ultimate weapon.’
“Lysandre’s intention was to use the ultimate weapon to unleash his ancestor’s wrath upon the world. He was only stopped by the efforts of one Calem, who, with his Pokémon, battled Lysandre for control of the machine. Their clash was one of extreme power, with a special bond on each side. Eventually, Calem won both the battle and the loyalty of the forces of Life and Death. Lysandre was defeated.”
“What are the forces of Life and Death?” asked Ryan. “I’ve heard stories, but they don’t explain….”
“The Pokémon of Life and Death are legendary, such that only Lysandre, Calem, and a few others can rightly claim to have seen them,” said Zavier. “The Pokémon of Life is said to take the form of the letter X, while Death takes the shape of the letter Y. There is also said to be a third Pokémon, which takes the form of the letter Z.”
“The Breaker?” asked Ryan, remembering one of Elder Arhan’s stories.
“Aye, the Breaker. Its true name, of course, is not that, but it has never been written anywhere. I think it likely that Lysandre knows its name, as does my father.
“Anyway, the Breaker appears only when Life and Death are too imbalanced. It breaks both Pokémon’s respective auras, and so quells their fighting. Once the auras of Life and Death are broken, balance is restored, and Order reigns once again.”
“Why does it need to stop them if the Life Pokémon gets too powerful? Wouldn’t that be a good thing?”
“Endless life? For all beings? No. Immortality is not the blessing it would seem. Let us leave it at that. But it is easy to see how important Order is. Kalosians even curse by its name, in such phrases as ‘by Order!’ or ‘break you!’.
“But as I was saying, Lysandre was defeated. Now, however, his dream remains in the hearts of Team Flare. They mean to exact revenge on the ones who thwarted their leader before. The Pokémon League, Calem, Professor Sycamore, and any Pokémon Trainers not loyal to Team Flare will be in danger. This includes you and your Elemental Spectrum. I see now why it was so important for Professor Sycamore to assemble you quickly.”
Ryan sat for a moment in silence, utterly dumbfounded by Zavier’s story. Then he returned to his senses, and he asked, “What became of Azoth?”
“I have not seen my father in ten years,” said Zavier. “Not since the destruction of Geosenge Town, for that was the location of the ultimate weapon. He attended a festival in Calem’s honor, battled with him, and then apparently vanished from the face of the earth, after Floette finally returned to him. I haven’t any idea where he is.
“I do know this, though. He is not dead. My father was, is, and will always be immortal. The weapon was destroyed, but that particular effect was not lifted. It did something to my father’s genetic structure, which has been passed to me.”
“So...you’re immortal?” Ryan felt just a bit dizzy. “How old are you?”
Zavier laughed again. “Only eighteen. While my father, myself, and all of our descendants are blessed – or perhaps cursed – with immortality, we still age as normal, at least until the human body reaches its limit.”
“Oh,” said Ryan. He could think of nothing else.
“It is because Team Flare thinks I hold some great secret that I am imprisoned, a secret passed down to me from my father,” said Zavier, changing the subject.
“And do you have such a secret?” asked Ryan curiously.
“Yes,” said Zavier simply. “But I cannot tell you, or their cameras would detect it.”
Ryan nodded. “Thank you.”
“For what?” asked Zavier, cocking his head quizzically.
“For talking to me. I did not expect to find anyone here at all, much less a friend.”
Zavier smiled. Another thought occurred to Ryan, however, and he asked, “Wait, why did you refer to Lysandre in the present tense? I thought he perished in the explosion of Geosenge Town.”
“Oh, no, he didn’t perish, though no one, including himself, is sure how,” said Zavier, and his smile faded. “There has only ever been one leader of Team Flare. The mysterious new leader is still none other than Lysandre.”
