CHRIS

The day was darker than usual, as the grey rainclouds overhead seemed to hide a furious wrath behind them. Chris Marsh II stood proud on the lonely sandbar next to Azumarill. They were in the company of greatness. He looked next to him and saw his mentor, Ahab, the Empress's Lord Brother, and next to him was her Holiness herself. Even under the dark clouds, her hair seemed to shine with an icy radiance.

Behind them in the sea were three of Her Majesty's warships. In front of them was the small archipelago of Pacifidlog, nothing more than a few sandy points in the dark blue sea much like the one the three Imperial Lords were standing upon. Chris could see Gyarados encircling the sandbar beneath the waves as the small boat approached them from Pacifidlog.

The Empress in all her wisdom had sought a peaceful solution to all of this. They had been in a standoff for near a week now. Chris could see the Golden Throne of Odara flying over the wooden hut that served as the town square, and next to that flag, the fiery emblem on a black field that belonged to the Brightflame family, thought to have been stamped out during her Greatness's rise to grace.

Finally, the small boat landed. To Chris's surprise, there was no military commander present, no soldier, and no single man wearing the emblems of the enemies that had taken Pacifidlog from the Empress. Instead, an old man with a walking stick emerged, and out of the water came a crumbly, ancient looking Corsola.

"It is customary to bow before your Empress, old man," said Ahab spitefully. "She is doing you great honor by honoring your request for a parlay."

"My apologies," the old man said in a rough voice. Chris's stomach twisted in anger and revulsion as the old man still did not bow. He said nothing. It was only an old man, of course.

"It's quite alright," the Empress said with a smile. Her voice was the sweet melody of a morning rain, but after her words the sky rumbled with a deep thunder. Her trident's blue orb sparkled as if there were no clouds in sight. "We show respect for our elders throughout this glorious land. I must say I'm surprised the Odarans sent no one of their own to treat with me. State your name, honored sir."

"My name is Cane," said the old man, slowly bending down to reassure his shaking Corsola. "And I am the village elder of Pacifidlog. I was born in a time before Sam Marsh's father had come into this world. I have seen many moons. I thank you for accepting me as your audience."

The Empress wasted no time. "Is it true that Chief Wake's son has been captured? Where are you holding him? Any negotiation of peace must come with my loyal servant's own flesh and blood."

"The Chief's son is no captive, I'm sorry to say" the old man softly replied. "When the Odarans came, they tied stones to his limbs and then he was thrown into the sea. I'm afraid there can be no negotiating for his release."

Chris could feel the lightning flashing behind him. The Empress' connection to the sea was legendary, and now the Young Lord Governor of Slateport was experiencing it. It was strange and chilling to him how she remained calm, how nothing seemed to bother her person.

"Most unfortunate," she said at last. She looked to her brother.

"Where are the undersea ships hidden?" he asked. Chris had heard how the Odarans had snuck up on the archipelago, and passed underneath her Majesty's security, and had taken the group of islands in half a day. Supposedly, the Odarans had made base in Pacifidlog.

Ahab had wanted to storm the island and take it back, but the Empress in all her majesty wanted to spare the lives of all the small peasants on the island. Chris had thought to himself that the lives of a few peasants were worth the message to be sent to the foreign invaders.

"That I do not know," said Cain, the village elder.

"If I may be frank," said the Empress, "If you will be of no help, and the Odarans have no hostages to trade, my only option would be to take Pacifidlog back by force if need be."

The old man silently observed her. Then he spoke. "You could try, but you would find the loss of life not only heavy on the Odarans and the innocents in the village, but to your navy as well. These foreigners have skill at arms that would surprise you."

Silence followed. Chris felt his eyes narrow at the old man. He looked down to Azumarill. His Spirit Pokémon nodded as it confirmed his suspicions.

"Your Grace if I may make a suggestion?" Chris finally spoke up. All eyes turned to him, and he felt a swell of pride inside of him. "I do believe that our guest Cane is not here simply delivering a message from the Odarans. It appears to me he is working with them."

"Very perceptive, lad," nodded Ahab. "It all seems to make sense now." He drew his dagger from his belt.

"Not now, dear brother," the Empress threw out her hand to stop him, and the sky flashed with a brilliant light, and the first drops of a drizzle began to fall. "Thank you for your insight, young Chris Marsh, my mind sees clearly now. Tell me, Cane of Pacifidlog, who was it that tied the stones to Chief Wake's son?"

"It was the Odarans, like I said before," the old man cracked a sly smile. "And then I pushed him into the sea." He pointed with his driftwood walking stick somewhere to the north. "Somewhere around there. The people of Pacifidlog were tired of him and his adherence to your will. We welcomed the Odarans with open arms."

Chris's anger got the best of him. "Your Holiness if I may do the honors?" The young Lord and his Azumarill took a quick step forward, but were stopped by another flash of lightning.

"I have not learned all I need to know," the Empress said softly. The rain began to fall even harder now. The old man did not waver. In fact, Chris supposed he looked amused.

"I, Empress Myranda Glamour, will accept nothing less than the complete and total surrender of Pacifidlog, and the deliverance of the Odaran foreigners' heads on spikes. Now, if you still wish to parlay, what would you have from me in return?"

The old man looked at the three of them, at the Sootopolis ships in the distance, and at the sky above. He closed his eyes as if thinking, and then he spoke.

"The people of Pacifidlog will have nothing from you. We have decided that we are done with your gifts, with your 'peace,' and with your 'protection' from war, hunger, and greed.

"I was born in a time before Sam Marsh, when his Grandfather was still King of Slateport and protector of the seas. I grew up eating fish seasoned with salt from Mossdeep, from watching great fishing vessels set out with the finest Foretree lumber, and from seeing the wealth and riches pass through my little town of Pacifidlog on its way across the ocean.

"I've seen happiness, and peace, and prosperity, all brought about by the cooperation of peoples from distant lands. I've seen how it brought life to my little town. I grew in it, and I learned how to tell the sailors from different ports by their accents and words.

"I saw my own family, while not the wealthiest in Hoenn, grow stronger as fish became cheaper and cheaper. The best fisherman caught and brought back the best fish, and my family and I were able to find work repairing their ships, and the ships of any merchant who might stop by to sell his goods in my little town of Pacifidlog.

"That all changed during the war of Sootopolis Independence. When Sam Marsh abandoned the East Sea to protect King Spark from the Brightflames, that was when I witnessed the beginning of the end. In the name of protecting the smallfolk like myself from the greed of the merchants who crossed the sea, ships and hulls full of gold and wealth and exotic goods, the Wakes, Chiefs of Pacifidlog, aligned with you, Empress. They promised that we could share more in the wealth of the greedy merchants who kept the greater share of value to themselves.

"But there was the problem, your Majesty. I witnessed the people become greedy, in order to save us from greed. For who is greedier? The man who owns his stock, or the man who desires to take his stock without payment?

"I watched you feed your envious doctrine to the smallfolk, and they all gobbled it up. Now what do you see when you look at Pacifidlog? There are no traders, no merchants, and no countless ships docked on the sands and swimming in the ocean. No fisherman bringing home their daily catch. And why would they? They receive the same as anyone else. Everyone gets the same, nobody is special, no one unique, but we are all safe from the greed of those you have run off.

"Now I watch as mothers and fathers must cut their own fish in half to feed their own children. We all receive a certain amount of fish per day, yet we watch as your soldiers stack the bones of their own meals in the streets, ready to protect us from those who might exploit us.

"The people of Pacifidlog ask you to turn your ships around, and leave us alone. We don't want you anymore. We want fish, and salt from Mossdeep, wood from Foretree, and berries from the mainland. We'll have no more of your commanded equality. That is what I was sent to tell you."

Chris found his mouth hanging open at the end of the man's speech. How can he be so ignorant? So blinded by an ancient regressive world view that he cannot see how this protection could only be provided by her holiness? How-

His thoughts were interrupted by the Empress's words. Her voice had changed, it now sounded like the rumbling of the rising tide. "Then the people of Pacifidlog have chosen death?"

At that instant, a Pelipper had flown in from the direction of the group of islands and wooden huts, squawked, and landed next to Ahab. He took a scroll from the Pokémon's mouth, and scowled when he read it. "They've played us for fools. The men I sent to the island in secret can find no trace of the Odaran's and their ships. One of the villagers had cracked and said they had been gone for four days."

The old man smiled as the Empress shook with rage.

"I WILL ASK YOU AGAIN, OLD MAN!" the air grew cold and chilly, and Chris could see a huge dark thing swimming beneath the waves next to Ahab's Gyarados. "Have the people of Pacifidlog chosen death?"

The old man's voice was softer than an ocean breeze, yet they all heard his words. "Nay, we have chosen liberty."

What happened next was all a blur. The Empress called out in a language that Chris could not understand, lightning flashed, and the rain fell hard as stones from the skies above. Out of the ocean arose Kyogre, the great beast of the seas, the source of her Majesty's mighty power.

The Empress's trident glowed a brilliant blue, and the red lines on her beast turned white with a power that Chris could feel in his bones. It was cold.

Chris stared in wonder as the Pokémon circled the group of sandy islands with a speed he could have never fathomed. He felt the waves on the sandbar they were standing on grow harder as they threatened to knock him into the sea as well.

Then, there came a mighty crack, and the wooden huts began to topple as the waves rushed in. Chris watched as he saw a few villagers try to scramble from their huts and into small boats that awaited them. It was no use. The boats were overturned in an instant by the power of the sea.

At the last instant, Chris heard the scream of a mother and the wail of a child before the sea silenced them forever.

When it was all over, there was no Pacifidlog archipelago, just the sea and some floating driftwood where the small village had been before. It was all gone now, and all ocean. A few minutes later, the bodies began to float to the surface.

Chris Marsh had felt a bump on his leg. The old man, Cane, was trying to pick himself up out of the water with his walking stick, coughing and crying salty tears and curses. The ancient looking Corsola swam over to help him as well.

Chris had enough of his man's insolence and defiance. He kicked the stick out of the man's reach and the village elder collapsed into the shallow surf again. Chris reached down and grabbed him by the soaking collar of his wet robes.

"Any last words before I pass her Majesty's judgment?"

He looked Chris in the eye with a sudden realization and said "You are no true Marsh. A real Marsh would choose freedom over servitude."

Chris Marsh II slammed the old man's head down under the water, and put his boot on the back of his head. Chris relished the moment as the man twitched and squirmed until finally bubbles arose from beneath the water. He nodded to Azumarill.

Chris's Spirit Pokémon launched a barrage of glowing bubbles at the old Corsola, already dying as it sensed the death of its own Spirit Partner. Finally, the last of the Corsola eroded away with the bubbles.

There was no more old man, no more Corsola, and no more Pacifidlog.