The rain battered the old manor house. The sound reverberated through every room. Ghetsis stood inside the parlor facing the front door, as he watched and waited, impatient to return to his study. He knew this place was only a temporary base of operations for himself and his Sages, and he had to work to engrave the fact that none of this was wasted time—that he should not force the hands of the clock—into his mind. Humans were not like pokémon. They could not be controlled en masse with simple devices. Ghetsis remembered that Colress had once mentioned a famous short story in which the world was full of pokémon who controlled humans with the equivalent of Poké Balls—an utterly ridiculous concept—but if only such a world were his, everything would be far more convenient.

Finally, he heard a rapping at the door. He unlatched it, and in the amber flicker of the porch light stood Anthea and Concordia. He smirked when he noticed the shivering bundle Concordia was holding close to her chest.

Ghetsis beckoned them inside. "What's this? Another lost soul?" he asked, carefully tempering his satisfaction to disguise it as benevolence.

Anthea nodded as she wrung out her heavy skirt. "Yes, father."

"Well then, let me take a look at it."

Concordia stepped forward and held out the bundle in her arms. She whispered something softly to it and it stopped its shivering, but stubbornly refused to emerge. Concordia then shifted the blanket until two little eyes and a pale face appeared, enclosed by the mess of drapery.

Ghetsis leaned down to inspect the pokémon, but it hastily buried itself within the wet fabric once more. Ghetsis felt himself tense in frustration, but he forced a low laugh. "Myah-ha-ha... so timid. It certainly deserves the utmost care." Despite the pokémon's pathetic cowardice, that glimpse had been enough for Ghetsis to recognize it as a Petlil of somewhat greater potential strength than average. If, in the process of shaping N's education, this Petlil was made to cast its weakness aside, it could become a useful tool once evolving. "Excellent work, my daughters. You are making a great difference in the lives of these unfortunate pokémon. Now, take it to our budding King's room." He longed to return to his study, but stopped himself to add, "But be sure to change your damp clothes beforehand. Rood has stoked the fireplace, and you should warm yourselves. I wouldn't want you to fall ill!" Finally, he turned to go.

"Wait, father..." Concordia called out, quiet as a specter.

Ghetsis paused before the dimly-lit staircase. "What is it?"

"I have taken a great liking to this Petlil, and I wish for it to stay by my side. It seems very happy to be close to me, as well." She petted it as she spoke. "May I keep it as my first pokémon? I am old enough… older than N."

Ghetsis turned back to her. Concordia's logic was sound, as always, thanks to the education he had proudly arranged for her. And while he had seen the Petlil's blatant disrespect for him, he knew it would be no threat without undergoing evolution and training, which his daughter would be unlikely to grant it. He could simply keep any Sun Stones far from her grasp. Yet at the same time, this pokémon had been clearly warped by ill treatment, and the shaping of N took priority. Ghetsis had already waited patiently for years on end, and it was only just that he drive his plans forward. With this in mind, he put his good hand on Concordia's shoulder, with slightly more force than he had intended. "So what if you chose each other? As gentle as your hand is sure to be, Concordia, don't you agree that this poor thing would better thrive under N's watchful eye?"

Concordia looked up at him with big, woeful eyes. "But… I have been trained in the ways to give care to pokémon. The Sages have trained me. You have trained me."

"Of course. But surely we all understand N's special abilities… abilities none of have been granted, save him. Any amount of training we undergo can't change that. It's the way things are. I know that you're still a child, but know that when you grow older, one day you'll realize that one must make sacrifices to stay on a righteous path."

"I am older than N…" she muttered.

"Indeed. You are closer to reaching that understanding." He smirked and took his hand away, and went to the stairs.

Concordia made no move to follow him.

"You shall receive the Petlil once N is finished with it," said Ghetsis, without looking at her, as he ascended the stairs to reach the shadowy second floor. "In fact, considering you were so obedient, tomorrow I'll give you a different pokémon to care for in the meantime as a reward!"

Pictograms drew Ghetsis in as abstracted letters never could. They still held a clear connection to the forms of what they represented, and parsing them was like seeing history and human life frozen in time, held captive by parchment and ink. Nothing could make Ghetsis feel more grand than seeing how insignificant the travails of others looked from this perspective. He longed for the day when he could stand upon a parapet and watch how small the masses looked—only that could be more thrilling. That was why he sat at his desk, poring over mountains of commentaries on the culture and practices of the ancient kingdom he was tied to by blood. When the time came to put his plan into action, he knew every move would be painstakingly arranged, meticulous calculated—perfect. In the lamplight, these heavy, annotated editions, bookcases, and stacks of academic papers cast such deep pools of shadow he often caught himself expecting to touch the dark, waxen wood surface and fall into another realm.

The deep creak of the door made Ghetsis drop his pen with a start. He whirled around, and there stood Anthea, looking like a fairy from some Fuseli painting. She peered into the study timidly before Ghetsis suppressed his urge to grumble and instead motioned for her to step inside. Her eyes were glassy and her mouth inexpressive.

"Are you jealous that your sister is getting a pokémon as a gift? I'll give you your own—you did not have to interrupt my important work," said Ghetsis. He had so many spare pokémon in reserve he currently had no use for. He had already decided that his daughters' first pokémon ought to be a Ralts and Gothita—emotion and observation, imagination and actuality. That was what the two of them had always so dutifully contributed.

Anthea shook her head. "There is something that has been haunting me."

Weighty words for someone who had scarcely endured hardship. Ghetsis was intrigued. "Then, inform me, and perhaps I can ease your burden."

Anthea shut the door tightly, as if she about to give voice to a well-guarded secret. She came closer, to stand beside Ghetsis, though she was careful not to touch any of the items that lay upon the desk. She and her sister embraced decorum as a bosom friend. "I am wondering about… the meaning of my name, father."

Ghetsis instinctively turned his head to the side in disbelief—he had trained himself to look around whenever he felt lost, in order to ensure he was always correctly judging the distance between objects. "What? The Sages have already told you that your name is—"

"'Anthea' is an epithet for Hera, and also means 'blossom.' Of course, but my question goes deeper than that…"

Apparently, he would have to dash what he thought about the relationship between her and decorum—she had never cut him off before! He unthinkingly gripped the arm of his chair. "Tell me plainly, Anthea."

She ran her pale hand over the irregular grain of a drawer, though Ghetsis knew she would never dare open it and risk disturbing a file. "Ah, yes… I learned from Sage Giallo that Hera is not only the queen of the pantheon, but the goddess of marriage and childbirth. However, my siblings and I are not your children by blood… and you are not married. I wonder, then, why you gave me this name?"

"That is an interesting question, Anthea, but I would have expected you to figure out that your name is inspired by the union of family and the power of a matriarch from a wider perspective. Surely this can't be your only impetus for asking, especially when you know full well you're interrupting my work."

As Anthea stood silently amidst the low light and long shadows, she looked less like herself and more like some gilt wooden idol ready to pass judgment on someone, its expression severe. Normally, Ghetsis could quickly discern anyone's thoughts, including those of his children, whether they had been given voice or not. But in this strange moment, Anthea's inner self was a locked diary. She finally spoke. "I was discussing fairy stories with Sage Zinzolin, and he told me girls can fall in love with other girls and boys can fall in love with other boys… while others do not fall in love at all. Is this the truth, father?"

So this was what had been burdening her. Ghetsis could not claim to be surprised—she was at that age. But how much should he tell her—how much could he tell her? After all, if he told her the truth, his relatives would punish both of them if they found out. It would be extremely inconvenient and would defeat the goal of his plan. But a lie in the moment would lead to Anthea becoming unsatisfied and doubtful later on, and he could not risk her undermining him in secret, working against his machinations from within, particularly when she had such a close relationship with N. Fortunately, as Anthea herself had brought up, none of Ghetsis's three children were related to him by blood. The larger Harmonia family would view them as inconsequential debris, and were unlikely to look into anything Ghetsis taught them. Having come to this realization, Ghetsis answered truthfully, "Of course it's the truth, don't you remember studying Sappho's works?" His patience was running dangerously low. With the last dregs of it, he considered that Anthea was tenderhearted and that this was a delicate matter in a child's life. He did not want to reward her loyalty and daily labor with scars. He was far more just than his own parents had been. "...And if you have no interest in boys, that is all right."

Anthea's face took on a pinched look. "My question was not about me, father! Have you ever fallen in love?"

"What?!" Ghetsis was taken utterly aback. He felt confused—and he hated that feeling from the depths of his soul.

"Have you ever fallen in love?" she asked, more firmly.

He felt his face grow hot against his will. "N-No! What reason could you possibly have for asking me such a question?" He nearly raised his voice to her, but he held back. He had to maintain control. A perfect ruler would never let his temper flare over anything so inconsequential.

Anthea heaved a sigh that sounded like the whisper of a Shuppet. "Ah, then I wanted you to know that when you do fall in love, it must be with a lady and not a man. We dearly need a mother in our lives… then we will not a broken family any longer."

Ghetsis scowled deeply. What a waste of time and effort this conversation had been. "My plan is to find a que—a wife for myself in the future, Anthea. It must happen, and nothing else can be allowed. You have nothing to fear. I'm certain she'll be to your liking… in the future. For the time being, I have other duties to attend to, including the work you've ungraciously interrupted." His eye narrowed. It felt dry. "And this is not a broken family—broken families result when something is lost, not when there was never more than a single parent in the first place. If you foolishly repeat your misinterpretation, you'll be derided as a bigot." He turned back to his desk, resolved to stare at his work and completely shut her out. "You must be exhausted. You should go run off to bed."

"But… we are a broken—"

"Come now, Anthea, you should be sleeping. Do you see how dark it's become outside?"

After some time, Ghetsis heard the door creak as it closed, but he could not distinguish a single footfall, as if his young daughter had simply glided across the floorboards. He wrote off this entire, frustrating incident as a freak occurrence as he returned to his dictionaries and their fragile, anciently-inscribed pages.

He lay resting, his head cradled by something pleasantly soft. He turned slightly, feeling it brush against his face—with mild curiosity, he noticed he did not have his eyepatch on. The vague awareness that this left him vulnerable began to sink in, and yet he did not feel alarm. Suddenly, something warm gingerly alighted on his head and ran through his hair, before settling on the back of his neck. Ghetsis then felt it leave, and found he longed to feel its gentle pressure once again. He let out a low, quiet hum and pushed himself up to a sitting position, and he fell back against the headboard.

"I see that our decision to read in bed rather than on the couch did not proceed as planned," said Colress, who was sitting beside Ghetsis and pouting in that disarmingly adorable, theatrical way of his. "Even a single research expedition can tire you out, I see… I'll have to record this finding!"

Ghetsis smiled. "Ah, and the term 'research expedition' now encompasses taking the man you l—are involved with on a trip to a beautiful greenhouse because you enjoy listening to his voice as he lights up with excitement after seeing some interesting specimen?" His heart beat faster as he prayed Colress had not registered his slip-up.

Colress blushed slightly, but gave no other indication of having noticed. "Oh, please, I merely had to visit that facility because I-I was researching the diet of one of my test subjects, and I brought you along because I could not be so cold-hearted as to deprive you of my lovely aura!"

"Myah-ha-ha, your making excuses means little, considering we're lying in bed together!" With these words, he felt a wave of shyness wash over him. It made little sense—somehow, despite everything having been so established, speaking such words aloud was still a grand event.

"Well now, we both know this is the perfect setting for me to test your level of squishiness," Colress said, singsong. He lightly poked at Ghetsis's forearm to punctuate his statement.

Ghetsis made an embarrassing noise—one he knew Colress found endearing—and hastily picked up the collection of short stories the two of them had been discussing. "...Ah, as I was saying, Olson's story can be read as a moment in which a paradox—a blaze above ice—leads to a brief union with the divine. It echoes writers of the past who also deified nature..."

"...But he also believes that whether his ideal truth is by nature spiritual or scientific, the phenomenon is equally moving."

"Yes, he'll also find experiencing those dancing colors above the black sheet of ice sublime..." Ghetsis trailed off. He remembered stark shadows and crumbling tomes, and the conversation about marriage that still prickled in the back of his mind.

Colress turned to gaze at him directly, his eyes fully open and his glasses off—they were on the nightstand, facing Ghetsis's eyepatch. "It seemed you were dreaming when you'd drifted off just now. I observed that it was not a pleasant dream… do you wish to talk about it?"

Ghetsis nodded. He shifted to lean against Colress, sinking into their easy affection. "It isn't simple to explain. I was remembering the past, and a confusing, unexpected situation." He recounted the memory in great detail.

Colress listened attentively, his only comments gentle touches. Only when the tale was told did he speak. "Oh… when you spiralled into self-hatred, was a thought of punishment the reason? Was it because you miss your dream of a queen? I must admit I've been wondering at the causes for some time." He drew in a breath. "I apologize for denying my pure and true feelings for you. I never wanted my immaturity to make you unsafe, Ghetsis." He reached down to touch Ghetsis's hand, and they intertwined their fingers.

Seeing Colress so downcast made Ghetsis's heart sink. "No, I was the one to blame. I should have trusted you and revealed my feelings, as you are my dearest friend, Colress. Any punishment inflicted on myself was my own—my parents and the rest of my relatives are rotting away and see me as a madman. What little influence they had over me disintegrated when we strengthened our friendship. And through our… reconnecting, I realized that the unexpected can bring happiness as opposed to pain, and that you are more suited to me than any other being, whether as a friend or more. I was the immature one for not professing all of this sooner." He gently squeezed Colress's hand.

"That is fortunate. Still, my constantly claiming to hate you must have made things very frustrating, and it is understandable that you could not see a way to proceed, and I do not agree that you're the one who was most immature." Colress smiled—his angular, genuine smile. "Now, however, you should know that you're always free to confide in me when you are unsure."

"Well then… I feel that we now owe it to ourselves to discuss… this."

"Oh? And what is this?"

"This refers to every new development in our… bond," he murmured, borrowing Colress's parlance. "If at all possible I desire to continue strengthening our bond as part of my new path. But we must discuss your desires in order to see whether or not I am capable of meeting them."

"Well then… it sounds as if our desires are the same, but I need more clarification." Colress stroked Ghetsis's hand, as if to memorize the feel of it on his skin.

Ghetsis swallowed hard. "Will you be disappointed to hear I wish to remain celibate?"

Colress's eyes widened and he suddenly released Ghetsis's hand in surprise. "N-No! I don't have that expectation of you—I just—I want to be with you!" he stammered.

Ghetsis sighed, relieved. He smiled softly. "I'm incredibly happy to know you feel that way, Colress. I feel the same. And... I should mention that I hope what I've said doesn't make you believe I don't find you adorable and gorgeous, because I certainly do!"

Colress made a high-pitched sound as his face turned bright pink. "And-And I also find you t-to be that way! I am also h-happy!" He turned away and stared at the wall, as if the deepest secrets of the universe were written upon its smooth surface.

Ghetsis carefully reached out and put his hand on Colress's shoulder. Colress calmed down before slowly looking back at him, until they were facing each other, gazing directly into each other's eyes. Ghetsis still felt wonder at how supremely powerful, yet loving the experience of this eye contact could be. The two of them stayed this way for a while, content just being together. Ghetsis used to fight his fantasies of support and romance in years past, but now he embraced his daydreams.

Colress eventually spoke, laying down his reverie. "W-Well then, it's very dark outside, and as we're here in bed together, I suppose we must sleep…"

"Y-Yes…"

Colress leaned forward to turn out the light, but in the process, he and Ghetsis ended up in a familiar position—their noses were touching, their faces so close together they could feel each other's breath, and this time, there was not even their eyewear to act as a barrier. They both stilled.

"Oh… would you… like a goodnight kiss?" Colress asked.

Ghetsis glanced down at Colress's lips, then quickly looked back up again. He knew he was on the verge of a momentous decision, yet his heart was at peace. He carefully lifted his hand and brought it between the two of them so that he could tilt Colress's chin up slightly and better gaze into his wide, glimmering, yellow-green eyes. Colress responded by leaning in slightly, before hesitating. Ghetsis nodded. But the two of them had frozen, each of them waiting for the right moment.

Suddenly, they both surged forward at the same instant and closed the distance between them, reveled in the surprisingly tender glow of each other's lips for a moment, then jolted backward from the shock. Colress mewled and Ghetsis hummed, and both of them shivered joyously.

"You—would you... like another kiss?" Ghetsis asked.

Colress giggled. "Yes!" he exclaimed. He leaned over and Ghetsis responded in kind, and this time they pulled each other closer so their bodies were pressed flush together. Their eyelids fluttered closed. Eventually, they pulled away, but remained embracing each other. Colress's cheeks were the color of a shiny Dragonair's scales, and Ghetsis knew he looked much the same himself.

"...I simply want to snuzzle with you…" Colress said quietly.

Ghetsis's smile widened. "...Did you just try to say the words 'snuggle' and 'nuzzle' simultaneously, only to end up with a portmanteau?"

"Hmph! It-It was intentional!" Colress puffed out his cheek.

"Well then, your desire to snuzzle mirrors my own," said Ghetsis, his voice light.

Colress giggled once again and turned off the light. In the dark, they curled up together. Colress lay his head down on Ghetsis's chest and nuzzled against him, burying his face in Ghetsis's long, wavy hair, while Ghetsis pulled Colress closer and gave him a back massage. Together, they drifted off to sleep and dreamed of the bouquet of colors of an aurora.