There was a chill in the air. It was the oddest thing—Hoenn was hot and muggy, and even in the far airier clothes he'd been lent by Team Magma, the Doctor could feel the sweat causing everything to stick. From his hair plastering his forehead to his strangely soggy socks, every nerve in his body told him that he oughtn't be feeling this strange creeping cold slipping down his spine. Something was amiss. Something was very, very amiss. And of everything, the fog rolling in across the lake was eerily threatening.

"You ever been out this way, before?" As the Doctor glanced back, the fisherman who was steering the small motorboat offered him a sad smile. They had been puttering along the lake's surface for a little while, now, since the Doctor had come across the shoreline on Route 123 and realized he had no way to get across. Fortunately the fisherman going the same way had been nearby, and when the Doctor had explained his predicament, he'd been happy to bring him along. The journey had started out a lot brighter, a lot sunnier; but as they continued across the lake, the fog rolled in, the water grew darker, and everything suddenly went quiet. Only the flat sound of the boat's small motor carried across the stillness.

"No, never," the Doctor replied, "first time in the region, in fact." The fisherman nodded.

"I have to make a stop at Mt. Pyre," he said, "since it's your first time, you ought to stretch your legs and look around."

The Doctor frowned thoughtfully. He turned his eyes towards the distance, watching the outline of something large, dark, looming grow larger. Closer.

"Is that it?" he asked the fisherman, "what's so special about it?" His guide's sad smile broadened just a bit.

"It's our burial grounds for the pokemon," he explained, "they say if you go to the top of Mt. Pyre and ring the bell there, the spirits of the departed will grant you safe travels."

A burial grounds, eh? That would explain the chill. Ghosts, of course, the Doctor didn't quite believe in. In twelve hundred years of time and space, he had yet to meet a ghost that hadn't been explained by science, and he couldn't imagine ever finding one that wasn't. For now, though, it was an interesting proposition, and since they were stopping there anyways, the Doctor had to admit he was just a bit interested.

Time passed, and the looming shadow gave way to a looming island smack in the middle of the lake. The fog remained thick, but the fisherman docked with little trouble, and the two made plans to reunite on the half hour before climbing the steps into Mt. Pyre and heading their separate ways.

Carved into the rock of the mountain were enormous rooms filled with rows upon rows of tombstones, incense burning and flowers placed neatly in front of them; the walls were rough and craggy on the first few floors, but the further up the Doctor took the stairs, the smoother, more precise the cuts became, and the stiller the rooms seemed to be. Here and there he heard the sniff of a running nose, the utterances of grief, names whispered with such sacredness that they weighed so heavily on his heart. This was certainly a place of mourning.

The Doctor tried not to eye any one tombstone for too long as he made his way further and further up, the memory of losing Amy and Rory still so fresh in his mind it may as well have still been happening (well, technically it kind if was—wibbly-wobby-timey-wimey.) Soon, however, the stairs gave way to not another room carved into stone, but to the fresh, if damp, air of the foggy lake outside and moist grass. He'd reached the top.

The fog seemed so much thicker from the top of the craggy bluff than it had near the bottom, for some reason, so thick the Doctor could only see shape and mass through the swirling mist, but he pressed on. More tombstones stood erect in the tall grass, and every now and then the Doctor could have sworn he saw something just out of the corner of his eye, but whenever he turned to look, there was nothing but the wind. His stroll became cautious, his hand coming to a rest on Trikey's pokeball, but as it turned out, he needn't have bothered. The path was mostly clear, and soon the Doctor came to the top of the bluffs, finding himself faced with the bell the fisherman had spoke of. In front of the bell were two pedestals, and upon those pedestals were two orbs: to the left, an orb that shimmered with the serenity of a calm sea, and to the right, an orb that burned with the sullenness of a soothing ember. Both of the orbs emanated... something. Out of habit, the Doctor reached for his coat pocket to grab his sonic screwdriver, but his face fell into a disappointed scowl when all he found was fabric.

"Typical!" he berated himself under his breath, "stupid, stupid, stupid, did you forget that pirate bloke has it?" Without the sonic and without the TARDIS, it would be hard to say what these orbs were for sure, what about them both alarmed and intrigued him, but as he moved closer, there were some things he could certainly pick out on his own.

"A telepathic field," he mused quietly, "a low-level one?" Maybe not the most surprising one, after all, he had felt, faintly, Trikey's emotions through one earlier. Maybe this was common on this planet? Slowly, he reached one hand out towards the orbs, and for a second everything seemed fine. Just a moment.

Where there was gentle wind and the rustling of tall grass before, everything suddenly became still, so quiet he could have heard a pin drop, quieter and quieter, stiller and stiller, until there was nothing to hear, nothing but the rhythmic beating of his hearts, one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four, and as his fingertips neared the orbs his whole body tingled with static as a pressure settled in his chest and lungs, settled in the very pit of his soul while his every last hair stood on end, and right in the middle of it all the orbs swirled, brighter and darker at the same time, one churning with the rage of an ocean in a lightning storm, the other blazing with the violence of a raging volcano, and in each of them there was something vicious and terrible and ancient-!

Suddenly, the Doctor snatched his hand away and stumbled back, gasping and sputtering at the raw energy that still licked at the charged air around him. Just as quickly as it happened, the orbs settled back to their more calming demeanor and the wind blew again, the stillness forgotten. Wide-eyed, the Doctor glanced between the orbs, unsure of what, exactly, he just experienced, but old enough and wise enough to know that neither should ever be disturbed. That was when he heard it. At first, he thought it had been his imagination, that he was just jumpy after that experience, but then it came again, the faintest of whispers through the planet's telepathic field.

Help.

Help me.

It wasn't just the words that found him, but a sadness, too. A grief powerful enough to match what clung to the tombstones of Mt. Pyre, a grief that pulled his eyes towards the east. All of a sudden, the Doctor wasn't so sure about his plan, anymore. Something was wrong.

Without ringing the bell, the Doctor silently turned on his heel and went back the way he came.

By the time the Doctor made it all the way back down, the fisherman was waiting for him just outside. His eyes were red, cheeks splotchy, but he was smiling through it, and the Doctor couldn't bring himself to say a word. He reached awkwardly to give the fisherman an understanding pat on the shoulder, and the sad smile on the fisherman's face become thankful. They boarded the small boat and set back off across the lake, sitting in mutually understanding silence for minutes as they puttered further through the fog, and when they spoke again, it was the fisherman who began.

"It happened a few years ago, and it still hurts so much," he mused, "her name was Marina. She was a dewgong; I met her when I lived in Kanto, on a fishing trip to the Seafoam Islands. You ever been there?" The Doctor shook his head. "It's a beautiful area, but sometimes trash from the mainland just sort of floats over. She was just a baby at the time, smallest seel you've ever seen, and all wrapped in a plastic bag. I got her out of it, took her home, nursed her back to health. Never was able to have kids, so she was like a daughter to me. She was with me for a long, long time."

"I'm sorry you lost her," the Doctor quietly replied, "it never does get easier, does it? No matter how long, no matter what you do, the pain always burns."

"It is what it is," the fisherman agreed, "all you can do is go on living. But you know that, huh?"

"A little too well," the Doctor agreed.

It wasn't much longer until the fog began to thin, and soon the Doctor could even spot the edge of the lake. Within minutes they were pulling up to a small, rickety dock and disembarking next to a small hill. Just up the path was a large building with a fence that seemed to stretch on forever and a sign out front reading "Safari Zone."

"Well, this is my stop," the fisherman announced. He reached out to give the Doctor a firm handshake, and then pointed to a well-trodden path to the east. "Lilycove is straight that way. You can't miss it."

"Thank you for your help," the Doctor said, the smile starting to make its way back to his face, "and perhaps we'll cross paths again, some day."

And so they parted; the fisherman disappeared into the Safari Zone building, and the Doctor set off down the path to Lilycove City. The air seemed much more welcoming here than it had at Mt. Pyre. The tall grass here rustled, too, but the sound so much sweeter. Nevertheless, he couldn't get the strange encounter with the orbs out of his head, and it weighed on him. The worst part was not knowing; the Doctor hated not knowing something, especially when that knowledge had to do with objects so... so weighted with importance. He should have just bitten the bullet and asked the fisherman.

Kicking himself the whole way, the Doctor continued down the path towards Lilycove. On no less than three occasions, he was stopped by people he assumed to be locals: an old man, a teenage girl, and a small boy, all of whom demanded he fight them. He had to refuse them each multiple times, eventually only managing to narrowly escape by using his roselia's fragile health as an excuse, and by the time he finally passed through Lilycove's city limits, it was already late into the afternoon.

Much like Slateport, Lilycove smelled of salt and brine, ocean air and the wetness of the surf lapping at sandy shores. Towards the far end of the city, he could spy a lighthouse, and that could mean only one thing: boats. A sigh of relief pushed passed his lips, and the Doctor's pace quickened. Trodding along a weathered cobblestone path, he beelined through the city and towards the coast, following his new beacon. Unfortunately, when the docks came into sight, it was adamantly clear there would be no boats for him to board.

The entire dock was closed off; flourescent orange saftey tape and bright yellow police tape zigzagged across and between wooden posts, and there was not a single passenger boat to be seen. Internally, the Doctor cursed his misfortune. This was quite the pickle.

"Excuse me, but the dock is closed." The voice caught the Doctor unexpectedly, and his head snapped around. A woman with blue hair pulled tight into a bun and dressed in uniform was approaching him, a small red dog-looking pokemon at her side. She didn't look particuarly upset, mostly just tired. From the spectacle of the peer, the Doctor supposed there might have been a good reason for that.

"Yes, I just saw," he answered her, "I just got into town, trying to get to Mossdeep, but..." Forlornly, he motioned to the deserted dock.

"Sorry," the woman sighed, "it's going to be a while until the ferries are up and running again. If you don't have a pokemon that can surf, you're going to be stuck here until the police finish dealing with the situation."

"Ah, you're an officer!" Well, her uniform made sense, in that case. The Doctor offered her a charming smile. "I'm sure you're busy, but could I ask you what all... this..." He motioned vaguely to the tapes. "...Is about?"

"There's not a whole lot to tell," the officer admitted, "a few days ago, we had a gang fight break out. Team Aqua charged the city and kicked Team Magma right out-and sunk all of our boats in the process." She shook her head disdainfully. "Used to be those guys were just strange but harmless, yet these days... well, things could be better."

Of course, she was on duty, so the officer couldn't spare much more time filling the Doctor in on the recent happenings and instead had to excuse herself. Before she left, however, she was kind enough to give him directions to the town's Pokemon center, as well as the phone number for the local police-just in case there was anything to report, she said. Otherwise, she was certain the Doctor would be able to find someone at the Center who could give him a lift to Mossdeep—trainers tended to make the stop to rest before taking on the waves.

Bidding her a good day, the Doctor took the officer's advice and walked back through town, pace much slower this time. It really was a charming town, despite its current predicament. Cozy cottages lined rocky bluffs, and Main Street—the cobblestone path he had rushed down on his way to the harbor—was home to many delightful little mom-and-pop shops, and even a few restaurants. There was one little cafe in particular that caught his attention, and for a moment, the Doctor paused. He really didn't have any money, but... His stomach grumbled. It had been a while since he last ate. He could do with some tea and maybe a sandwich or something, at the very least. If only he had his sonic, he could hit up a cash point and this whole conundrum would be taken care of. Maybe he could find someone at the pokemon center to bum food off of. Or maybe...

The Doctor looked down to his pockets, feeling the weight of the two pokeballs there. Roselia—Rose, he decided, even though it brought a lump to his throat—was still recovering from earlier, so she probably ought not battle, but Trikey on the other hand was in pretty alright shape; Gabby and Ty had fixed him up from the battle at the Weather Institute so the Doctor wouldn't have had to detour back to Mauville, and so maybe just one or two would be fine. That was how Sapphire had made her money wasn't it? The Doctor pressed on further down Main Street, and it wasn't long until he stumbled across the town square. A fountain stood in the middle, water spouting from marble sculptures in the shape of two odd, aerodynamic-looking pokemon. Even in the orange glow of twilight, trainers were all standing around it, chatting idly with each other with a few engaged in battle. For a moment, the Doctor paused to observe, to try and understand how this worked or to remember how Sapphire had approached it.

Nearest to him was a battle between a pokemon that looked like a white wolf with a sickle on its head and another pokemon that seemed to be an eagle made of metal, the two striking at each other, zipping around the square. They were nimble, attacks coming within inches of each other before one would dodge or be met with a glancing blow. They seemed strong, and the trainers—teenagers, maybe older—looked so casual about the fight as the younger kids cheered them on. The Doctor coudn't help but smile. There was something special about it all, wasn't it? The pokemon seemed focused, proud. The wolf whipped its head, sending forth a slash of harsh winds, and the eagle would gracefully twist out of the way mid-air before raking at the wolf with its claws.

The battle continued like that for a while, and the Doctor watched thoughtfully, but it was an insistent tap on his shoulder that caused him to finally become distracted and turn around. A young woman, dressed in faded blue jeans and a crop top, grinned up from just next to him.

"Hey, there," she greeted, "looking for a battle?"

"Me?" the Doctor replied, "well... yes, I suppose. People make money this way, yeah?" The woman nodded.

"Yeah," she agreed, "sometimes. What do you say, 400P on the line?

"How much is that, then? Enough to buy a meal?" For a second the woman paused and eyed him oddly as though sizing him up. For a second, her gaze lingered around his ankles, but before he could blink, it shot back up to his face. Slowly, she smiled again.

"Tell you what," she said, "let's have a friendly battle, one pokemon each. Win or lose, I'll treat you to dinner afterwards." The Doctor, touched by her kindness, agreed.

Marina-as she introduced herself only a second later-didn't seem surprised whrn the Doctor explained he was still very new to this whole pokemon trainer thing. She guided him to the other side of the fountain, then a little towards one edge of the square, where he was directed to stand at a spot where a few of the cobblestones were a pristine white, contrasting against the yellowish hue of the others. Then, she ran across to the other side and shouted for him to select his pokemon.

The Doctor reached for Trikey's pokeball and threw it, watching in satisfaction as his faithful companion emerged in a shower of red sparks. Just as he threw his pokeball, however, Marina threw hers, as well. The pokemon that materialized before Trikey was honestly quite odd. It looked kind of like a big blue beach ball, with beady black eyes, large ears, and a zig-zagging tail with a smaller blue ball on the end; actually, it was kind of cute.

"Alright, Glubs," Marina called, "tackle it!"

Before the Doctor could ask what was supposed to happen next, Glubs ran forward and lunged; Trikey tried to leap out of the way, but the strange pokemon's shoulder clipped him, and the green lightning wolf skidded as he attempted to maintain his balance.

"Trikey, Charge!" the Doctor countered, "try to stay out of reach!"

"Don't bet on that! Water Gun, Glubs, don't let him get away!"

Trikey began shuffling backwards, shaking his fur to begin generating static; Glubs did not move forward, however, but instead opened her mouth and shot a small, forceful jet of water out at him, dousing his fur so it clumped wetly at his sides. Water Gun, the Doctor ifly found himself musing-so, water type?

"Spark!" The order flew out of his mouth just in time; still Charged full of static, Trikey dashed forward on command, through the Water Gun, unt he was close enough to collidr with Glubs. The Sparks jumped from his coat to Glubs, shocking her, and wothin seconds she was down, body twitching from the electricity. Marina called her back, then quickly walked across the field, grin taking over her relatively subdued smile.

"Not bad!" she commented, "especially for a rookie! Your electrike has good form."

"Thank you," the Doctor replied with a smile of his own overtaking his face, "your-what was it?"

"Glubs is a marill."

"Your marill, then, she's quite good, too."

"Thanks!" Beaming, Marina shook his hand, then motioned to Trikey. "Why don't you put him away? Just like I promised, I'll treat you to something tasty."

The Doctor obliged her, returning Trikey to his pokeball, and then the two set off on their way. Marina led him down Main Street-they passed the cafe he had been eying earlier-then turned down a side street. The Doctor, of course, didn't fuss; food was food, after all, and if he really wanted to try the cafe he could always go back to the Trainer Square and battle for money again later. Maybe it wasn't such a bad way to earn a living, after all; the thrill was still dancing in his veins, the rush of the fight... It was a little like sport.

They turned down another side street, then another; a little while later, they cut through an alley. About half-way down, the Doctor began to contemplate maybe asking where, exactly they were going, but he was unfortunately never able to. The last thing he remembered was being grabbdd from behind, a cloth with a strong chemicam smell held over his mouth and nose, and then minutes of struggling later, the world finally went dark.

When the Doctor next came to, it was with a jolt. For a second, he blinked bleariness from his eyes, tried to place where he was and what had happened. and it took a moment before the memories came flooding back. He could feel white-hot anger boiling inside of him, rage pointed in his mind-then worry. Was Marina alright? Had they gotten her, as well? Frantically, The Doctor reached for hia pokeballs; in his pocket, like they ought have been. That was good. One mystery solved, and now another: where was he?

Frankly, the room he had woken in was relatively nondescript, save for a small stainless steel desk and two matching chairs-one of which he was already sitting in, apparently. He was in the middle of trying to piece it all out when the door opened, and to his relief, Marina walked in.

"Oh, thank god, you're okay," he said, "did you get a look at their face? Who were...?" But the words died in his throat. Something was wrong. Marina wasn't wearing her clothes from earlier. For a second the Doctor stared, wondering how ling he must havr been out, but then it hit him. What she was wearing, it looked like a Team Aqua uniform. Like what Amber gad been wearing.

"Ah," he continued after a long pause, "of course you're okay. You orchestrated this whole thing."

"Amber said you were smart," she replied, "Aqua Admin Shelly, at your service." The kind smile from earlier was replaced with a self-satisfied smirk. Marina-Shelly-took the seat across from him and kicked back, resting her feet on the desk. "Heard you've been sniffing around. Trying to get to Mossdeep, right? That's why I brought you here, to offer you a lift."

"You know," the Doctor dryly replied, "I'm sure there were easier ways to offer me aome help. You seemed to have a grasp of it when you were offering me dinner."

"Chances are, you wouldn't have stopped to listen to me if I had just offered," Shelly pointed out, "and besides, this is a buisiness deal. Nothing for nothing and all that, you know? So I needed to bring you to our base, anyways." The Doctor sighed heavily.

"Alright, I'll bite. What is it you want?"

"I want your map data."

Silence.

"Pardon me, what?"

"From your Pokenav. I want your map data. If you give me your map data, I'll take you to Mossdeep, myself-and I feel like I should mention, we have the entire coast here on lock-down. Not a whole lot ofother options."

Again, silence. The Doctor sat-well, not quite stunned, but mildly surprised by the sheer audacity of it all. Kidnapping him, then offering help and expecting him to take it! And to give ger his map data, no less! Team Magma's bases, that must have been what she was after. He needed to keep Maxie's trust if he was going to use the mab to get to the TARDIS. But then, Maxie helping him get to the TARDIS, that hinged on the Doctor getting to Mossdeep, and he had seen the harbor, himself. Team Aqua didn't seem to really a playful matter. He supposed he could go back to the pokemon center, try to find help there anyways, but... well, time was of the essence. And here was an offer, right in front of him.

Wad that really so bad?

The more the Doctor thought about it, the better the deal seemed to look. If he was very quick in Mossdeep... if he could just make ot there and back before Aqua could pull anything, then explain the situation to Maxie... Slowly, the Doctor raised his gaze to once more look Shelly in the eye.

"Alright," he said, "you have a deal."

The nasty way Shelly's smirk twisted upwards made him wonder if it was really worth it.