Chapter 35 – Day 14, Part 3: Doors to Open

Chapter 35: Day 14, Part 3 – Doors to Open

It was fun while it lasted.

Not long after Calluna and I had a pleasant chat at the festival she returned me to the castle like she promised. I went without a fight, though I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t more inclined to start running now compared to earlier. The Mismagius kept giving me this…look. Like she knew that I was thinking about it but had no chance of pulling it off, especially now.

To compensate along the way, I ate that big cookie I bought, and even asked Calluna if she wanted a bite. She said, and I quote, “No, thank you. The cumulative souls of every pokemon at the festival were more than enough for me. I am quite full~” And she smiled, too.

I finished the cookie in one big bite out of spite after that. No chocolate chips for Calluna.

One more thing she told me to really rub it in was that Anemone ordered one of Calluna’s henchmen to keep an eye on me. Literally, a surveillance ghost. I was under the impression that I had one of those already, but I guess not. Calluna wouldn’t provide me with any of the specifics, only a heads up.

That was it, though. That Mismagius had places to be. “Have a good rest of your day, Oswald-dear!” Calluna called out to me as she phased through the castle foyer’s floor. “If you get bored, I recommend training your fighting moves. I know you need the practice~”

All I had to respond with was a half-hearted wave and a mumbled “Yeah, yeah.”

And with that, I was left alone in the castle entrance hall. A few stray mons loitered about in the lobby, but it was mainly just me. Not even the front desk was occupied. Decorations like pink streamers and flags were strewn about like the remains of a party that started days ago but was never properly cleaned up.

Seeing the castle so empty during regular hours unsettled me in a liminal sense. A pin drop could be heard, and even the few pokemon sitting in chairs by the entrance or conversing near the far walls did so in whispers. I stood in the middle of it all, largely uncomfortable on my own feet and…well, I had no idea what to do next.

I had been thinking off and on about this moment for a while, but nothing could really prepare me for the harsh sense of listlessness that came with it. There was a lot I could do—now that I was alone. But in the end, with a sigh, I dragged my feet across the moldy carpet and sat on the first couple steps of the right-hand staircase. The dolphin plush I had been carrying was dropped apathetically onto the step beside me without so much as a squeak. None of my options were motivating enough to stop the wave of exhaustion that hit me as soon as I walked through those doors.

My chin rested in my paws as I stared at the castle entrance. My tail laid limp behind me, and my whiskers drooped pathetically. Occasionally the doors would slide open, inciting my head to lift slightly, but none of the pokemon that entered was the one I was hoping for.

Yes, I still had some semblance of hope.

I waited…and waited…and waited some more…nothing. Hours could have passed and I wouldn’t have noticed.

After a bit of time I started playing these little scenes in my head. My mind wandered as I imagined myself, clad in glittering armor while wielding a sparkling blade, sliding along the floral swirls present on the carpet and slashing bad guys like it was nothing. I leaped above the spears and flames, twirling mid-air before coming back down on a demon made of shadows, cleaving it in two. A blade came swinging above my head—but I stopped it! The metal of my blacksteel katana groaned in excursion as I held back the strike. With a cocky smirk, I pushed back my assailant before countering with a riposte of my own! They dissipated, and I was victorious!

An unintentional sigh escaped my lips.

Man…

How much would it cost to get a sword? I know I had my scalchops already…but still. Swords are cool.

I bet it would’ve come in handy when a familiar voice sounded out to the left of me.

“Hey,” grumbled the distinctly deep voice of a certain Wartortle.

How long had Swift been standing there? It didn’t really matter. As soon as I knew he was there I stood up and started walking away. “I’ll go somewhere else,” I groaned.

“Wait, hold up!” Surprisingly he didn’t sound as angry as I thought he would.

That alone got me to turn around slightly; probably wouldn’t have done so otherwise. With a scoff, I told him, “Look, I’m still recovering from the last beatdown you gave me-” I brought my paw to my ribs. “-can we do this another day?”

I’ll give Swift credit, he didn’t look as furious as he usually did—so at least he was trying. That said, it was clear that appearing any less stern and generally unfriendly was a challenge for the water type. His resting expression always reminded me more of a dimwitted Seismitoad than a proud Wartortle.

To give him even more credit he got right to the point, albeit as clumsily as possible. “I…want to…say I’m sorry.”

“…What?”

Okay, now he had my attention. My frown lessened as I turned to look at Swift fully.

“Yeah, I, uh…” Swift started to say something, but he quickly grit his teeth and looked away before he could finish.

My eyes narrowed skeptically. “Why would you want to apologize? You got what you wanted.” Even though he got a verbal lashing in the process. I figured that was normal for someone like Swift, though.

Swift shook his head vigorously—out of frustration with himself, presumably. “Just…give me a second to say this!” he squeezed out.

“Fine.” Crossing my arms, I waited.

This better be good.

“I…” It took him a moment to find the right words. Whatever he had to say must not have come easy; I could tell based on how his brutish frame had sunken halfway into his shell. “…After yesterday I thought about…what you said. About my dad.”

What did I say again…something about growing a backbone? Talking to his dad himself, that was it.

“Okay?” I raised my eyebrows. “And? Did you talk things out?”

“Uh…”

This meathead’s lack of confidence here really miffed me. Good for nothing but fighting, I guess.

…Alright, that assessment was a little unfair. Still, he shouldn’t have been having so much trouble with this. Then again…I was friends with Fenn so, uh…nevermind. My expression softened slightly.

Finally, Swift growled in irritation and said what was on his mind. “It was a lost cause. After you left dad wouldn’t give me the time of day.” He grimaced. “I thought…if I had you out of the picture…”

“Everything would be fine, right?” I noted quickly. My scowl reappeared. “You threatened to kill me, Swift. What makes you think your dad would have been happy if you did?”

Swift’s bushy tail fidgeted uncomfortably. Something that I only really noticed because his tail was as rigid as a metal pipe most of the time. “Listen, you gotta understand,” he said, “I’m not great at…expressing myself. Never have.”

My reply to that was to draw out every word as sarcastically as possible. “Wow. Really? I never would have guessed.”

That trademark ‘Swift anger’ glinted in his eyes for a moment and I once again saw the dumb jock he often presented himself as. “Yeah. Really.” Just as swiftly (ha), though, the frustration in his tone turned solemn. “I thought if I scared you enough you’d leave us alone.”

I glared at him. “I just wanted to learn how to fucking fight, Swift.”

He looked down. “…I know.”

I sighed, crossing my arms tightly. “So, you thought that just because it didn’t work out things would be fine between us?”

Shaking his head, Swift muttered, “No…I mean…maybe.”

At least he was being honest.

I opened my mouth to say something, but Swift continued before I could interrupt. “He…told me something afterwards that really hurt me…”

“What was it?”

“Dad said that I lost him an opportunity to have a proper apprentice. Even though…that’s what he called me before you came around. I always sort of knew he wanted an Oshawott for a son…”

Ouch. That’s gotta sting.

To be honest that didn’t make things better for Swift. But I could sympathize. Imagine vying for your parent’s attention only to realize that no amount of training or effort would work. I had a feeling Allium was the kind of dickhead parent that would put high expectations on his kids, but not to this level.

But still, I had to reiterate, “I was never going to be that for Allium. I just wanted to know the basics, Swift. If you just…let me get the help I needed there wouldn’t have been a problem.”

“…No,” Swift grumbled, his gaze planted firmly on the carpet below his feet. “I blamed you for showing up from the start, but after talking to my mom I realized something.”

His mom? Good lord, all I wanted was some help. Why was my presence enough to tear this family apart?

“And what was that?” I asked slowly.

Swift hesitated, his eyes drifting to look at anything but me. “…She fessed up to what I’d been scared of since I was a kid. Dad always seemed kind of…distant…around me. Never really looked me in the eyes. He always felt that way, I guess…”

Sheepishly, Swift rubbed the back of his neck. With how ungracefully the words were falling out of his mouth I had to wonder if he had ever talked about himself like this before. “I’ll never impress him because I’m not what he wants,” he said. “It’s not your fault I’m adopted. So…yeah. Sorry.”

EXCUUUUUUUUSE ME?

I think I might have been conked upside the head by a damn Conkeldurr after hearing that. The sheer amount of whiplash I got from this revelation was nearly enough to send me flying backwards. I had to admit, though, I felt slightly vindicated. And annoyed.

“…Are you kidding me?” I raised an eyebrow. On the outside I appeared kind of peeved, but on the inside my brain was playing jump rope. “Are you telling me you didn’t know this before?”

It was clear from how hard Swift was locking up that this whole situation embarrassed him like crazy. He had a deep frown on his face to go with the forlorn look he was staring at me with. All he responded with was a silent nod.

My god…

I legitimately wanted to laugh at how absurd this was. How did Swift go that long without knowing? After all the trouble he gave me, the Wartortle deserved it.

I cracked a smirk, but the moment didn’t last long. Because when I looked at Swift’s sunken eyes and how his feather-like ears were drooping I couldn’t help but think. The Swift I had known this whole time was gone and replaced with a lost, neglected son. All of a sudden, everything he knew was clouded with uncertainty. Everyone around him probably seemed like a bunch of liars in retrospect.

At no point during any of this was I ever obligated to forgive Swift. Sure, it was clear that he didn’t know how to properly express his emotions, but that wasn’t an excuse.

I understood why, though. I understood very well. And at the end of the day…he deserved one thing from me.

My arms fell to my side in acceptance. “Alright,” I exhaled, “apology accepted.”

Swift’s eyes shot up so fast that I was worried I offended him somehow. “You…what?” he gawked. “This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. I wasn’t asking for…you know, sympathy. I’m trying to tell you-“

Holding up my paw was what stopped him. “It’s not sympathy.” Well, it was. But I had a point to make. “We can just leave it at that.”

“Just…just like that?” The incredulity on Swift’s face really sold that simplemindedness I knew him for.

“Yeah.” I then turned to leave. With how much damage we had done to each other it’d probably be better to move on. Plus, I had other things to pay attention to. During our conversation I realized that if I was going to wait in the castle I may as well go to my room. Maybe Fenn was already there…

I went to walk past Swift, shooting him a wave over my shoulder, but was promptly stopped when he grabbed my arm—catching me by surprise.

“Wait!” the Wartortle cried. The sharp pinch on my arm gave me the impression that he panicked more than intended. And as I expected he reeled back almost immediately, looking shocked at his own reaction.

I winced and took a step back. “What?” I prodded, rubbing my arm. “What else is there to say?”

He practically spat the next few words out. “That’s not enough! I can do more!” Swift undoubtedly wasn’t anticipating me to walk off like that. I could tell that this whole conversation was way out of his comfort zone.

“More…what?”

Hundreds of emotions flashed across his face as he glanced left and right, stared down at his paws, then shot up to look me right in the eyes. “I’ll…I’ll teach you how to properly fight,” he muttered breathlessly, but earnestly.

Well, now Swift was just messing with me, even if I doubted he had the capability to do so. I’ll accept his apology, sure. But why would I accept his help? I shook my head. “I’m good, thanks.”

“I’m serious!” he added without hesitation. He pointed at my hip. “You wanted to learn how to use your scalchops, right? Let me teach you! We’re basically the same age, but dad taught me everything he knows!”

Would that even be the same thing? I was under the impression that it was better to seek out a trainer of the same species. I knew that Swift could use Razor Shell, probably because of his dad and not any other reason. But hell, living up to Allium’s expectations vicariously through someone else was a little enticing…

Not now, though. Likely never. Probably.

“Uh huh…” I mumbled slowly—not confident in this in the slightest.

Swift pointed over his shoulder. “There’s an indoor training dojo on the other side of the castle, on the first floor. I’m there most days. If you stop by…I’ll give you some pointers.”

It was hard to deny that Swift was being sincere in his proposal. His tail and ears drooped a lot like mine would when I felt depressed, though now his ears were perked up slightly. Almost as though he was really banking on selling his idea to me. There was this desperate, guilty look in his eyes that I had only ever seen from Fenn. Not to mention, there was this oomph in the back of my brain once I registered what I would be accomplishing by taking Swift’s offer. I could finally hold my own…

Like before, I turned to leave. This time, however, I lingered on Swift for a slight moment.

“…I’ll consider it.”

---

I almost forgot the dolphin plush after I left the lobby. Would’ve really sucked to have had to turn around and go back and grab it after getting to the third floor. Cool thing, though, with the castle so empty I finally got to try out the regular elevator.

…I still had to wait, like, five minutes, but I doubt I’d ever get the chance to use it in a respectable amount of time again.

It was neat! And just like Anemone’s elevator, it had a variety of floor settings on the lever. Although this one could go to levels even higher and lower. I can’t stress this enough; Kebia castle was massive. At six floors plus the basement, I had to wonder how the pokemon on the higher levels weren’t exhausted by the time they reached the bottom. If they used the stairs, that is.

Admittedly it was hard not to get a little complacent when taking the cruise on up. If I had thought to ask Calluna to pull a few strings and get me a fast pass for the elevator I wouldn’t have hesitated. My legs could use the rest. Alas, my special treatment had run its course for the day.

SCREEEEECH!

My ears must have receded into themselves as the scissor gates shrieked loud enough to make me reflexively grit my teeth. I was in the middle of reflecting on how I was suddenly getting used to the idea of being catered to, though as I walked out onto the third floor I figured that I could do without hearing that sound on a regular basis. The additional wear and tear of this elevator really set it apart from the one Anemone used; it was like night and day. Torn carpet, rusted metal, a pungent stench, and stains I didn’t want to know the origin of…

I’ll stick with the stairs from now on.

There were a few young pokemon hanging out and having a chat in the hallway as I walked past them—a Charizard, a Swampert, and a Breloom. I didn’t really acknowledge them, though I had my ears perked to get a listen in on their conversation, just because.

“I’m telling you, dude,” said the Charizard in an excited tone, “you can order what you want! They’ve got dumbwaiters and carts that’ll come to you!”

I heard a scoff. “I ain’t lazy like you, Tiny Wings,” replied the Swampert jokingly. “Besides, by the time they get to you the food’s gonna get cold.”

In contrast to the Charizard and Swampert, the Breloom sounded a bit bored. She also seemed to be wearing a different colored scarf than the other two, from what I saw.

“They always mess up your order, too,” said the Breloom. “Asked for Chesto and they gave me Pecha. No idea how you screw that up.”

I was past them at this point, and from behind I heard a few repetitive thudding noises. The Charizard spoke next, overlaying the other noises with his own agitation.

“Yeah, like- ah, damn.”

“What?” asked the Swampert.

“Scanner’s acting up again.” The thudding noises grew more frequent, to match the Charizard’s sudden growing frustration.

The Breloom chuckled. “You too, huh? I swear, these paw print scanners are so finicky. I think it’s just the technology, though. Jay was telling me how his neighbor couldn’t get the thing to work—and he had to call up the receptionist to get it fixed. Turns out that one scanner in particular wasn’t set up correctly; the tech’s too new.”

That sounded about right. It seemed like every other time I’d try to use it to open the door of my room it would beep at me. I never really understood how those things functioned, but after enough tries it just worked, for some reason.

And no one could give me a definitive answer as to what powered them or how they were made. Lace was really vague with the details when she signed me up, too. Something about a psychic signature…? If that were true then why did they barely work? Not to mention, Finch was able to use it.

I just never thought about it much. Curious, I shot the trio a look over my shoulder to see how this would go for them.

Now the Swampert was trying, and failing. “Gah!” the water type squalled. “Come on, dude!”

“It’s not working, my guy,” Charizard conceded. “We’ll have to call up Lace.”

“No…that’s gonna take too long…” That Swampert could have passed for a pokemon half his age with how he was whining.

To my surprise, the Breloom stepped up. I guess she just wanted to try it out for the hell of it before they would disperse. “Here,” she said with a smirk, “maybe one of you rubbed off on me, or something.” And she placed her claw on the scanner before they could protest.

I think everyone in that situation assumed nothing would happen. I did, too. You wouldn’t stick your apartment key into someone else’s door and expect it to open. And yet…

The LED screen of the scanner lit up green, a tone sounded out, and the door opened with a satisfying click.

Both the trio and myself flinched before stumbling back in shock.

“Wha…!”

“Huh?”

“How the…?”

…What?

I had maybe two seconds to process what I had just seen before I felt myself brushing up against something behind me. Out of reaction, I spun around, only to come face-to-face with what looked like…another face…breathing on my fur. Those jagged, slightly transparent, yellow lips jittering off-beat to the heartbeat in my ears did nothing more than send a shiver up my spine. I swear I saw something moving in the gaps between…

But it was just a malformed, ominous ruse. What quickly shook me from my momentary bout of fear was the voice that originated not from the fake face I was staring at—but above, where the piercing red eye in its singular pitch black socket gripped me with knowing vexation.

“This is a good time to talk, isn’t it.”

Notable how that wasn’t a question. With each word of the sentence retreating like slugs from a nonexistent orifice—slippery and slimy—the Dusknoir had this strange way of speaking that reminded me of a greasy salesperson and an evil doctor at the same time.

My whiskers twitched like mad after every syllable; stepping back to give myself some room was downright instinctual. Like how Calluna would, this ghost was still half way through the ground when he addressed me, his large, meaty mitts grasping the floor for leverage. And like Aster, for instance, the guy probably worked for the Mismagius, so it fit.

I grimaced while still recovering from the tingle wracking my skin. No doubt in my mind that this was going to be another encounter where I’d be left reeling, so I skipped right to the sarcasm.

“No, actually,” I said. “I’m going through my third divorce right now, and I don’t need to be accosted by some ghoul with a lack of depth perception.”

The Dusknoir’s one eye squinted at me. “I see,” his voice rumbled. “Unpleasantness was to be expected from you, but perhaps the information I was given undersold the extent. Human, do not sass me.” I could detect the distaste when he said that word—human.

Looks like I’m not the only one skipping steps today.

Still, my stomach dropped at how loud he was talking. I glanced over my shoulder and, thankfully, the trio from before was already gone. Sighing in relief, I looked back at the Dusknoir with a frown. “Uh huh. Let me guess…you’re my new nanny?”

He was fully out of the ground at this point, towering over me in both directions. If this was the surveillance ghost Calluna was talking about I had to wonder if Anemone specifically asked for a damn wardrobe to keep an eye on me.

Wringing his hands together, the ghost replied with, “I prefer the word…beholder. Ms. Calluna gave me free rein to ensure your safety…though she phrased it differently than I.”

I raised an eyebrow. Wait, didn’t Calluna say that Anem- oh. I guess I’m just supposed to not take anything she says at face value seriously. Great. Why she decided to lie about this in particular really confuses me, though.

“Beholder, huh?” I scoffed. “If you’re anything like the other ghosts I hear about I think ‘stalker’ fits the best.”

I could hear the exasperation in his voice already. “Regardless,” he started, rolling his r’s, “you may refer to me as Dusknoir Oleander. Please, use my full name. I prefer to keep our relationship…professional.” With his hands behind his back, Oleander began to pace. Or at least…as well as someone could pace without any legs. “For an indeterminate amount of time, I will be within the walls, floors, and ceilings nearby—every hour. All to ensure that you do not leave this castle.”

Wow, they really just outright say it, don’t they? Either this guy was exaggerating a bit or ghosts literally don’t sleep. I could believe either one. But seriously, I was expecting to be stopped whenever I tried to leave. I was not expecting to be watched 24/7, and to be told that I would be watched 24/7. Now they were just trying to freak me out.

That said, I managed to make light of it anyways. If they were trying to scare me, they had another thing coming.

I crossed my arms smugly. “So, you’re gonna be watching me all the time?”

“Yes…” Oleander hissed back.

“Every single moment?” My eyes flicked up and down the specter’s body. “You’re telling me that not a single moment will go by where you’re not there.”

“Yes…” he repeated. “I will see everything.” The air around us both grew heavy as Oleander leaned forward and lowered his voice. “You are strictly ignorant to the scope of depravity the mons in this castle engage in on a daily basis. I am under contract to remain neutral and not dispel any…personal information.” He leaned even closer, until he was only a few inches from my face. “Pretend I am not there.”

It was hard to tell, in my eyes, if that was supposed to be reassuring or threatening. Again, it could go either way. And that uncertainty caused me to falter for a moment. My eyes went wide as I leaned back away from the Dusknoir, trying to ignore the granularity at the edge of my vision. Ironically, the idea of being watched constantly did not make me feel more safe.

But like hell was I going to let this piece of shit know that.

I shrugged and nonchalantly walked around Oleander, bouncing my hips and (sloppily) flicking my tail in the process. “Well if you ever like what you see, give me a shout, big guy.”

If the ensuing pause was any indication, my response annoyed him quite a bit. “…If you require my attendance, simply speak my name,” he grumbled like he was reading from a script.

I murmured under my breath spitefully, “I think I’d rather forget you exist, thanks…”

By the time I reached my room’s door, Oleander had disappeared. Good riddance. Except not really because he was probably directly below me. But…in my head I treated it as though I won that interaction and he ran off crying. The thought was cathartic enough to make me chuckle.

Side note: yes, it took me three separate tries for the paw print scanner on the door to work. I did my best not to think about that either.