Part Two

The day passed much more quickly than Carrie had anticipated. Time flew when there were so many wonders to behold on Bouquatro’s island. The flowers on the bird’s chest, resplendent as they were, paled in comparison to what the island’s jungle held within. Any kind of flower one could imagine – at least Carrie, with her limited experience – had a match in this paradise. The same went for fruits, trees, bushes, grasses, mosses… and it all added up once Carrie asked a question on her mind and received the answer: yes, many of these Bouquatro had created himself.

The mon, however, Bouquatro had no part in designing. “Modifying flesh doesn’t fall under my powers,” he had said, “and changing any plant parts without permission would be rather rude.” Nevertheless, the diversity of species was still far greater than back at Carrie’s home. With the help of Bouquatro’s life-sense – his ability to locate living beings, fitting for a god of life – they found many new mon: oddish, shroomish, budew, vivillon, sunflora… and then all the ones whose names she forgot seconds after introduction.

Cramorant, though, was more than familiar. She withdrew in her shell the moment she saw one fly by, but curiously enough, Bouquatro called it down and… made it apologize to her. Carrie could scarcely believe it – the one-eyed cramorant that had tried to eat her before now bowed its head with a defeated crow. She didn’t even know ferals could feel guilt. Or maybe it had just learned to feign it. Either way, Carrie decided to accept the apology when asked by Bouquatro. Anything to get the predator to leave faster.

While touring the island, Bouquatro gathered seeds from plants he thought would make for the best food sources for the dwebble. He carried them in a pouch hanging from his neck, along with another pouch for good, fertile mulch. He’d said that both would help quicken the process – no need to gather plant material on the cliffs to modify or make the seeds sprout and grow with life energy alone. And the quicker they got it done, the sooner he could leave, and the smaller the risk of getting caught would be.

Finally, as the golden sun dove into the sea, the time came for them to depart. Bouquatro made sure the strings of his pouches were sturdy, then picked up Carrie with his vines and strapped her onto his back.

“Does it feel like it’ll hold?” asked Bouquatro.

“Yep,” replied Carrie with a nod. Her coconut was securely fastened, and her tail was anchored to the coconut. She felt as safe as she could imagine feeling while on the back of a giant bird.

“Then we’re off!” Bouquatro announced. With a powerful beat of his wings, he heaved himself into the air, kicking up a cloud of dust and sand in his wake. As he continued to flap, the beach beneath them retreated, replaced soon by the churning sea.

The sky, vibrant with dusk, darkened quickly – but not from the coming night alone. The few tufts of cloud lazily floating above Bouquatro’s island grew larger and denser as the duo approached Carrie’s home. By the time their destination was clearly visible, the sky had been covered entirely by a thick, black blanket of storm clouds circling the island. Thunder rolled high above, and every now and then, lightning flashed.

Despite the strengthening winds, Bouquatro’s flight stayed surprisingly stable. This gave Carrie the courage to peek past Bouquatro’s neck. From this distance, the difference in height between the two sides of the island was obvious. There was the low beach – all flooded and muddy right now, of course – and then there were the steep cliffs. In the middle were the highlands that the electabuzz lived on, and on a tall hill right at the edge of the cliffs stood a clean, white building – the Stormbringer’s temple. It seemed to be the very point the stormclouds pivoted around.

“My colony should be somewhere in the cliffside caverns,” shouted Carrie over the wind. “I’ve never been there myself, so I can’t be any more specific. I’m sorry… I-I hope we can still find them fast enough.”

“Have no worries!” said Bouquatro. “I’m sure I’ll find it quickly with my life-sense.”

“Does your life-sense also tell you where the Storm- I mean, your brother is?”

Bouquatro nodded. “Indeed it does. Right now, he’s on the other side of the island, and he doesn’t seem to be moving. We should be safe for now.”

To Carrie’s relief, Bouquatro’s theory seemed to hold water as they approached her colony’s habitat. The bird reported no motions from his brother despite Carrie even specifically asking, just to stay in the know of the current situation. And it did distract from the bombardment of the occasional downpour, even a shower of hail. She had her coconut for shelter, sure, but it wasn’t nice knowing Bouquatro had to bear it all with only soft feathers for protection. At least it didn’t seem to bother him – the droplets and hailstones bounced off his plumage lightly, failing to draw even a flinch in response. Another feature to befit a god, despite all the ones that didn’t.

Finally, right in the middle of the heaviest torrent yet, they reached the dwelling they were looking for. It was a large, wide notch in the overhanging cliffside, barren save for a few measly patches of grass or moss. At the very back of the crevice, Carrie spotted several holes – tunnel entrances, she supposed based on stories she’d heard prior.

The cleft itself was too narrow for Bouquatro to comfortably stand inside, but luckily a section of the bottom protruded far enough to provide him with a functioning perch. He decided to make his landing there, gently lowered Carrie onto the ground in front of him and finally shook himself with vigor, flinging droplets all around like a qwilfish discharging its quills.

“So,” he started. “They appear to be hiding in the tunnels. Should I do this with them looking, or…”

“Looking, yes,” Carrie quickly replied. “I want them to see this miracle. I’ll go get everyone.”

“I’ll start spreading the mold in advance,” Bou said. “The less time I spend here, the better.”

Carrie nodded and scuttled into the tunnels. The wind and rainfall outside muffled, giving way to the clacks of her claws.

“Hello?” she called into the caverns. The word echoed back, unanswered.

The others were being careful, it seemed. Hiding from any electabuzz possibly trying to lure them out for a whacking to avenge stolen fruit from the orchards. It had happened before, or so she’d heard.

“It’s me, Carrie!” she called. “Carnelian in full! Daughter of Bismuth and Pearlkeeper!”

For a while, there was no reply. But right as she considered calling yet another time —

“Carrie!” shouted a familiar voice, accompanied by frantic clacks on the bedrock. “Is that really you?”

From the darkness emerged a crustle, gleaming white pearls embedded in the clay coating her shell. This was the final sign Carrie needed. She darted over without hesitation and embraced her mother tightly.

“Oh, Carrie, I thought you were a goner!” said Pearl, then stepped back and squinted. “What happened to your shell?”

Carrie glanced back at her coconut. “Uh… I had to leave it behind. This is a temporary one.” She shook her head. “But that’s not important! I need the colony to come outside. I need them to see something.”

“The whole colony?” asked Pearl, hesitant. “You know it’s not very safe our there during the storm – by the ocean’s depths, you should know that better than anyone!”

“I know, I know, but this is really important. It’s a miracle! A-and, well, I guess not everyone has to be there… just a dozen or so, so they can tell everyone what they saw with their own eyes.”

Pearl rubbed her pincers together, avoiding Carrie’s gaze.

“There’s food!” said Carrie. “Lots of it. And to spare.”

That got Pearl’s attention. “Food? Where would that come from?”

Carrie sighed. She supposed she would have to explain it all well enough for her mother to believe her and convince the others to come outside, even if it would take valuable time…

“Well,” she started, “it’s kind of a long story, but bear with me…”

—

Ten or twelve was the count of dwebble or crustle that Carrie and her mother could convince to come out. Carrie had hoped for more, but thought it sufficient nevertheless.

Reserved whispers and clacks of armor against stone or more armor filled the air. It seemed that Bouquatro flinging a cheerful “Hello!” at each new mon that had emerged had done little to calm their worries.

Carrie headed for Bouquatro, and the bird noticed her as well, giving her the same friendly greeting.

“The mold and seeds are in place,” he said, gesturing to the dirt stuffed in the crevices of the bedrock. “Is this everyone?”

“Uh… close enough to it,” replied Carrie. “Listen, could you pick me up and put me on your back or so? I need everyone to believe you’re nice before you start the miracle. They might get some dumb idea that it’s a trick otherwise.”

“Sure!” Bouquatro said, and right away two vines arose from his back. The crowd of crabs recoiled, but gradually relaxed as the giant bird did nothing to harm the one of their kin, only gently grasping and lifting her onto his back.

“See, everyone?” Carrie called out. “He’s nice!”

The dwebble and crustle resumed their whispering, but the tone seemed more positive this time.

Bouquatro smiled. “Aw, thanks.” Then his smile fell off. “So could I start now? I do need to leave soon…”

Carrie eyed her colonymates. “Yeah, I think you’re good to go.”

Bouquatro nodded and spread his wings. The flowers on his chest began to glow, just like the first time Carrie had seen him exert his powers, but this time they seemed much brighter.

Must be since he’s growing many more plants this time, thought Carrie – but soon she found herself incapable of coherent thought, attention fully consumed by the captivating display unraveling before her and her kin.

Little sprouts wormed their way out of the mold, glowing a healthy green. They grew height, forked, spread out leaves. Some stopped quite low, only as tall as an average dwebble, but some reached up to Bouquatro’s chest, their stalks hardening with brown bark covering them.

Finally came the most important part – the fruit, or berries in this case. There were five different kinds in total. One was light blue and conical with its seeds strangely embedded in its skin instead of being hidden inside. The second was round and dark purple. The third and fourth grew in the taller bushes, resembling each other with their lumpy shape, but differing by color – red and dark blue. The final berry was like them as well, but grew much lower and had a pearly white color instead.

The dwebble and crustle watched in wordless awe. Their eyes sparkled and jaws hung low, drool escaping the mouths of some. Gradually, they found their words again, and whispers overtook the crowd with newfound vigor.

“How did he make them grow so fast?”

“Am I dreaming?”

“It really is a miracle…”

Carrie looked back at her mother and saw her trembling.

“Mom, are you –” Carrie tried, but Pearl shook her head, and she saw the joy in her eyes.

She began to sob. “I-I’m just… so happy,” she said. “You’re back… and… now this…”

Carrie felt her own throat tighten. “It’s alright, mom,” she said with a smile in her voice. ”Everything’s okay now.”

The plants slowed down in their growth, and Bouquatro’s glow began to fade. He took a moment to catch his breath, then lowered his head to the audience and spoke.

“Alright, so what you’ve got here now are rawst, belu, razz, bluk and cumulo,” he said, pointing to the respective plants. “Razz and bluk have thorns in them, and I considered taking them away, but figured that it’d be better not to since deviating from the original can cause some unexpected side effects, and I didn’t really have time to test out a thornless version properly so –“

A sharp crack split the air.

The audience and showmon alike stood still, dead silent. Only rainfall and the wailing wind were heard.

“…So, anyway,” Bouquatro continued, “I also thought that since you folks have such hard shells, thorns won’t be that much of a prob-“

Another crack rang out, louder than the first, and on its tail came a rumbling even louder. The cliff beneath Bouquatro’s feet, the source of the terrible noise, sank with small, quick nudges – and just as the bird realized the situation and leapt into flight, the section came fully loose and plummeted towards the sea.

As the cliffside wasn’t wholly vertical or sloping inward, the debris did not fall smoothly. It crashed against the crag time and time again, adding further to the total amount of noise produced, before finally plunging into the sea with a great big splash.

A large piece of the cliff now missing, the culprit behind the collapse was clear to be seen – roots that had split the rock as they’d grown.

“Oh, no, no, no, no!” babbled Bouquatro, already flying away at his top speed, raindrops bombarding his back. “There’s no way my brother didn’t hear that!”

“Wait — hey!” shouted Carrie, her pincers tightly clasped onto the flowers on the nape of Bouquatro’s neck. “Leave me behind first! That’s my home!”

“No! No time!” Bouquatro snapped back – and Carrie recoiled. He’d never used that tone.

“I’ll bring you back some other time!” he added more softly. “Right now, we have to get away before my brother –“

A blinding flash overtook the sky. Thunder roared, fiercer than Carrie’d ever heard before.

“Stop right there!” screeched a voice.

Bouquatro flapped his wings frantically to slow down his speed. “Too late…” he squeaked.

Carrie looked up. A bird-shaped figure coated in crackling white electricity loomed above… far above. And far away – on the other side of the island, in fact.

“Why are you stopping?” she whisper-yelled, watching the figure slowly approach. “He’s not even close! You can still get away!”

“No, I-I need to stop…” stammered Bouquatro, then flinched and bent his neck to look Carrie in the eye. “Carrie! H-he hates bugs! You have to hide!”

Carrie glanced back at her unwieldy shell. “Hide where?”

Bouquatro paused. “You need to drop that.”

“What? But –“

“It won’t protect you against him anyway! Drop it, so you can hide in my flowers!”

Carrie wanted to argue, but the terror in Bouquatro’s eye yelled louder than she ever could.

As much as her instincts fought against her, she unhooked her tail from the coconut’s flesh and pushed the shell off Bouquatro’s back. It plummeted down towards the sea – but she had no time to watch it go. As the rain tapped on her exposed back, she lay down as flat as she could… but it wasn’t enough, she could tell. The panic she’d been suppressing began to overflow —

The tendrils holding her steady moved. They yanked her off Bouquatro’s back and shoved her against his chest instead. The flowers around her gave off a faint glow as their stems lengthened and thickened and their petals spread out further. They obscured her view of the black sea below, darkening her vision even further – but if she couldn’t see the world outside, that meant the world couldn’t see her, either.

“Please, stay there and don’t move too much,” said Bouquatro’s voice. “My brother hates bugs, a-and I don’t want anything to happen to you…”

“So it is you!” shouted the voice from before, now much closer.

“J-just stay hidden, okay?” whispered Bouquatro, shifting his tendrils for a better, more maintainable grip.

“Alright,” said Carrie. It wasn’t as if she would’ve liked to face the Stormbringer’s wrath herself…

But as Bouquatro swerved in the air to face his brother, one thing became clear to her – this drastic motion without the visual to accompany it was poison to her innards. The magost from before threatened to make a comeback, but right before, she poked her eyestalks through the canopy of petals. Even if she saw mostly darkness, the nausea lifted and she could breathe normally again.

“Get your tail over here,” spat the Stormbringer, voice like venom. “We’re going to my temple for a talk.”

Bouquatro sighed and did as told. “Alright…”

No words were spoken on the flight to the temple. To keep her racing thoughts at bay, Carrie decided to take in the sights – the steep cliffs they crossed, the electabuzz’s settlements, their houses and orchards…

Many of the yellow mon flinched and bowed deep as they noticed their lord, even if it meant stopping in the middle of a dash from one shelter to another. Some, instead of bowing, traced the lightning bolt shaped marking on their chests. Regardless, their fur certainly got wetter than it needed. Carrie briefly wondered why there were no civilized mon like these on Bouquatro’s island, and if there were, how they would act towards him. His words about not wanting worship echoed in her mind, especially loud as the birds arrived at the temple, talons clacking against the fine marble of its terrace.

The two birds walked under the wide shelter before the doorway, and without warning, the Stormbringer shook his body vigorously, flinging droplets all around. Bouquatro squinted as he was sprayed as well, but simply absorbed all the moisture in his feathers after, drying in seconds.

The Stormbringer lifted a foot and pushed open one of the two heavy-looking wooden doors. As light flooded out and illuminated the two birds, Carrie realized this made her more visible, too. She backed deeper into the flowers, but kept them parted just enough to see what was happening from the gaps between the petals. Safety came first, but curiosity was a close second.

The Stormbringer entered first. “Come in,” he said, “but don’t you dare shed any plant matter in here. There’s enough on the roof. I gotta yell at the templekeeper one of these days – he’s clearly been slacking on the job. Maybe zap him and get a new one. He’s kind of old, anyway.”

Bouquatro followed in silence. The strong light was a striking change from the rainy night outside, but his and Carrie’s eyes adjusted quickly. Carrie had first thought that the light came from torches, but a longer look revealed that it instead radiated from strange, glowing orbs placed in metal sconces on the walls. Inside each buzzed and sparked something like a small cluster of lightning, and the light they emitted has a cold hue to it. The sort of curiosity that one would expect to witness only in a god’s dwelling, thought Carrie.

The rest of the hall was more familiar in material with all its marble. In fact, there was scarcely anything that wasn’t marble. The floor, the walls, the ceiling and the pillars were all made of that same smooth white stone, amplifying the orbs’ light even further. The only exceptions Carrie could spot were some furniture, like the shelves against the far back wall or the metallic perch decorated with gold and silver that stood between them.

Behind the perch, the wall opened up for a window large enough for someone as big as the Stormbringer to climb through. It wasn’t just a hole, it seemed, by the reflection of the room on it… it must have had glass. The electabuzz must have worked hard to make that, and to make it so smooth, too! Or the Stormbringer made it himself… but somehow, Carrie doubted it.

Finally, the thunderbird reached the end of the hall and flitted onto his perch. He puffed out his chest, facing Bouquatro and his hidden companion. Lightning flashed behind him, and Carrie wondered if it was on purpose.

“Alright!” he shouted, glaring at Bouquatro. “Now, care to explain why you’re here despite my clear orders to stick to your own island?”

Bouquatro ruffled his wing-leaves. “Well, I… I was just flying around, looking at the island… it’s been a long time since I last saw it, you know… one hundred, two hundred years? I-I’ve lost count…”

”Oh, is that so?” The Stormbringer raised a talon and pointed it at Bouquatro’s neck. ”Then what do you have in those bags?”

Bouquatro winced, and so winced Carrie. The bird’s heart raced even faster than it already had, thumping against Carrie’s armor. Had she had a heartbeat of her own, she was sure it’d be deafening right now.

Then, after what Carrie could tell was far too long a pause, he responded. “Snacks.”

“Snacks, you say?” the Stormbringer said, unconvinced. “Give them to me.”

“Um… th-they’re empty now. I ate them all.”

The Stormbringer narrowed his eyes. “Give them to me,” he repeated, impatient.

“Alright then,” said Bouquatro slowly. Another pair of tendrils extended from his neck to take off the bags and offer them forth.

The Stormbringer took them into his talons and examined them. “Seeds,” he said after peeking into the first.

“Yeah, seeds!” echoed Bouquatro. “We’re birds, we eat seeds…”

“And what about this?” said the Stormbringer, beak in the bag that had held the mold. “Do you eat dirt, too?”

“…It’s got minerals.”

The Stormbringer tossed away the bags like common trash. “Cut the crap, late-hatcher, these are clearly planting supplies! You were trying to spread more of your weeds here, weren’t you?”

“N-no! It’s like I said, it’s snacks! I made sure not to drop any on the ground, I swear…”

Bouquatro’s voice trailed off as the Stormbringer held his fierce, unrelenting gaze. 

“Alright!” he finally cried, startling Carrie. “I was planting berry bushes! But it was because the dwebble colony is starving! They have scarcely anything to eat on the –“

“Oh! Oh!” The Stormbringer’s plumage was sparking as he screeched. “The audacity! You come to my island, scatter your accursed seeds, and you do it to feed the lowly bugs that crawl in the dirt and mud?”

Bouquatro recoiled – and Carrie doubly so.

Lowly…?

“Do you realize how long I’ve been trying to get rid of those? How many years I’ve brought up this flood to drown them? But they always find some hidey-hole to procreate in! And here you are, encouraging them to spawn?”

Had she heard him right? Had he really just said that? Were the storms… the floods…

Carrie clenched her claws. The Stormbringer… no, Zapdos had been doing it all on purpose? Drowning them, starving them, blowing them off cliffs… just because he didn’t like the kind of creatures they were?

Bouquatro sighed. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

What? Carrie’s heart sank. Did Bouquatro just… apologize? To this murderer?

No, no, it must have been a ruse! He wasn’t actually sorry, he was just getting Zapdos off his back! A clever ploy…

“It damn better not,” said Zapdos, hopping off his perch and marching to Bouquatro. “This is my island, with my rules. You can have however many vermin skitter around on your sad little lump of mud, but I like to keep my island clean! Is that clear?”

“Y-yes,” Bouquatro stuttered and nodded so deeply his beak nearly touched his flowers. “I’ll just… get out of your plumage now.”

Having said that, voice near to breaking, he turned around and headed for the door.

It… doesn’t seem like he’s…

“Yeah, and keep that in mind,” spat Zapdos and waddled back towards his perch. Bouquatro didn’t respond. He didn’t respond. He really didn’t…

No! shouted something within Carrie – some fighting spirit – and set her body ablaze with fury and determination. He will confront that demon about his evil deeds! He has to! He just… needs some encouragement!

She poked her pincer at Bouquatro’s neck, and a flinch confirmed he’d felt it… but he didn’t stop.

I just need to do it harder! she thought, poking the bird repeatedly. There was no way he couldn’t feel it.

The vines were shifting now, yes —

They caught her pincer and gently pulled it down as Bouquatro continued walking.

No…

Carrie’s stomach tied itself to a knot. She didn’t want to believe it… but with every slow, heavy step the bird took, it became more and more apparent.

He never cared about my people after all.

She released the tension in her pincer, and the vine coiled around it withdrew. Wanting to escape her heartbreak for just a moment, she emptied her mind and only listened to the noises around her. The tapping of the rain on the roof, less and less muffled by the second. The distant thunderclaps. And lastly, the clack of talons on the floor carrying her out of the temple.

They stopped.

Bouquatro had stopped.

“What now?” called Zapdos’ voice. “I told you, I don’t want your leaves scattered about, so pick up the pace –“

“N-no.”

Carrie’s breath halted. It had been quiet, it had been weak, but that was Bouquatro’s voice.

For a second or two, it was silent. Then something swooshed close behind them, setting foot on the ground only a few pincer-lengths away.

“What did you say?” asked Zapdos slowly, as if baring teeth he did not have.

Carrie could feel the uncertainty in Bouquatro’s steps as he turned around, and her heart quivered.

“I can’t just sit idly by when you’re doing this,” he said. His voice was wavering just like his body, but Carrie could tell these words were genuine.

Zapdos craned his neck forward. “Doing what?“

“You…” Bouquatro’s talons screeched against the floor as he flexed them. “You know what I mean!” he shouted, causing Zapdos to step back in surprise. “The dwebble colony! You’re killing them, even though they’re living, talking, feeling mon! They’re people, and yet you’re drowning and starving them! How… how can you do that? How can you be so evil?”

Zapdos stared back in silence, stupefied. His plate-wide eyes looked as if they’d just witnessed the impossible.

Then —

A sharp wind broke the world. Light poured in, air rushed past, the flowers and vines around Carrie disappeared. A hard surface struck her side – the floor.

“How dare you!” screeched Zapdos’ voice. “How dare you talk back to me!”

Carrie blinked rapidly to unblur her vision. She saw Zapdos tower over a fallen Bouquatro. A clear gash ran across Bouquatro’s collar of flowers, shorn clear of all plant matter. Stray leaves and petals dotted the floor around them.

She realized she was no longer hidden.

“What authority do you think you have to question me?” continued Zapdos as Carrie slowly nudged herself further away, hoping his voice would cover the taps of her claws. “Did you hatch before me? Do you wield greater power over the sky? Are you worthy of godhood and worship? No! You hatched last, you can only wrangle weeds, and you are so ill-fitting for a god that the mon Mother specifically assigned to serve you up and left!”

Bouquatro winced with each word his brother spoke. Physically, he looked well enough to rise to his feet, but he stayed down, as if the insults themselves weighed too much to bear.

He was like a poor little larva left out in a drought – he made no motions, resigned to his fate. And before him was a wingull, tossing him around for its own, selfish amusement. Unfair. Unjust. Unacceptable.

But what could Carrie do? She was just a dwebble, something so insignificant that electabuzz would kick them off their land whenever spotted. Literally. Smooth shells made this practice unfortunately easy. Not that she even had a shell anymore. Realizing this, she quickly tucked her tail under her body.

Was there anyone that could help? This was a fight between two gods — er, god-likes. What creature could match their power, save for another god-like being?

She gasped. Their mother!

She glanced around, and her eyes stuck to the shelves at the back of the hall. If their mother had given each of them an idol as Bouquatro had said —

A shriek split the air. Carrie looked back at the two birds… and they were looking at her.

Zapdos’ feathers stood on end, turning his plumage even spikier than usual. His face was distorted with disgust – and then, rage. Burning brighter than ever before.

“You brought one of them to my temple?” he snapped at Bouquatro. “You dare sully this sacred space?”

His feathers sparked and crackled. White-hot arcs of lightning crawled across his body. As he turned his head back to Carrie, she was sure she saw death itself.

“Die!” he screamed, and his glow surged. The arcs combined to one, and they pounced.

Crrrack!

A flash overtook the temple as the lightning exploded in mid-air, scattering to stray directions and then disappearing. Carrie exhaled, to her great surprise. She didn’t think she’d live to let out the breath she’d taken, but there she was, unharmed.

Before her lay charred scraps of something. She glanced to Bouquatro, who stood up straight, wings extended forth.

Zapdos jerked his head to his brother, but said nothing. It seemed that he couldn’t, brain too clouded by fury.

But Bouquatro could speak, and speak he did.

“Leave her alone.”

—