Music in media: For Whom The Bell Tolls by Bee Gees

18 March, Friday, 4 p.m. | Spring

Celestial Tower, Rae soon learned, was a burial place for departed Pokémon. According to Skyla, every citizen of Mistralton had lost at least one Pokémon to old age or accidents, usually the former. Now abruptly released from the perverted music's grasp, their melancholy, factored in by the grief of losing their beloved companions, spilled out of them. Some cried non-stop, some clutched their chests, some grew stoic and stared hard at the expanse before them... There was no one way to grief and each way was just as hurtful, however they'd manifested. The only way to provide solace would be ringing the bell at the top of Celestial Tower.

As they hiked up the stairs, Rae spied a vibrant orange tuft partially obscured by the stairwell. It was Alder. Unmistakably.

His kneeling figure, clad in a fiery kimono, came into full view when they reached the floor. Alder had his hands clasped together, his head bowed till his lips were kissing his fingertips, his shivering eyes fixated on a grave ash grey as any other. He looked serene. Perhaps it was because he, too, only entered the city's premises not long ago, making him somewhat immune to the music restoration's aftermath.

Rae craned her neck out of curiosity and spotted the monochromatic picture of a Volcarona on the grave, the words Volcarona, Alder's beloved spanning vertically below. She wanted to remind the group now was not the time, but Skyla refused to make a move. The silence grew impalpable till Alder rose, his hair like the morning sun and turned around to face them.

"It's been some time since we met," said the man of the woods. "What brings you here?"

"We have to ring the bell to soothe the city." Skyla said before recounting in detail what had happened in so concise a manner that Rae admired her calm and composure.

Alder scratched his chin and shook his head. "The normal way won't do. There is a more effective way. But it takes time." He gestured at a flight of stairs to the next floor up, one floor below the bell. "The spirit of a Defeatist Archeops resides in the golden grave there. Awaken it. Let it glide from a distance to put beak to bell. However, I'm afraid special feathers dropped by Ducklett and Swanna over bridges are required to convince it to fly."

Grimly, Rae furnished the kaleidoscopic feathers Icosa had retrieved back then. Health Wing, Muscle Wing, Resist Wing, Genius Wing, Clever Wing, and Swift Wing. One of each.

Alder's eyes radiated surprise. He forced his jaws together before they could droop. Was this coincidence or foresight? No, it didn't matter now.

"I will leave you to it," he said and entwined his hands behind his back. "My time is over at last. Young people these days never fail to amaze me."

"Where are you going?" Skyla frowned. "Aren't you going to stay and watch?"

Alder cocked his head sideways with a smirk as he turned his back against the crew. "Need I?"

And he went on his lackadaisical way.

Skyla took the lead once more. When they arrived, they saw the grave was golden as sand in an hourglass. The Archeops had no name and the picture revealed that it was quite ordinary after all. It looked like any other Archeops—its featherless and scaly head red with a green stripe running along the top, body draped with frayed-looking yellow and blue feathers on its arms and legs so its limbs were like wings except they had razor claws attached to them, a ring of smaller green feathers on its ankles, a red and featherless tail save for a fan of blue feathers at the end—but that was the point of it, no? That the most special creatures were ordinary beings like everyone else. All living entities have their list of achievements—feats, even—deeds they celebrated or scorned or paid no mind to—many a time just the tender affair of waking up another day is something to be proud of.

Not that the Archeops was proud or pleased to wake from its rich slumber after Skyla called its name, offered some bird feed (she always had a few packets on her) and prayed. N did not have to be around for them to understand its displeasure, for it pecked her as soon as its wispy form materialised. Understandably. no one would want to be woken from their eternal repose to run an errand.

"Please," said Skyla with her hands clasped together. The Archeops ruffled its feathers and turned away. "We will leave you alone afterwards. It's very fast. You just have to fly."

Its eyes bulged before it leapt, flapped its wings barely twice and crashed onto the hard tiles. Of course, that's why distance was necessary, why Alder suggested it in the first place. As a Flying-type specialist, Skyla already knew the Archeops were a different breed, being more adept at running than flying and therefore requiring a running start to compensate for its weak wing muscles. Apparently, it must run nearly 25 mph over a course of 2.5 miles to take flight. The only area this long was of course the runway in Mistralton Airport.

At this sight, Rae unveiled the special feathers. It yanked the feathers out of her grip, attached them to its wings and crowed.

"Hold on a minute..." Lenora sucked in a breath as she studied the Archeops. "I've seen a picture like that in the history books. This Archeops might just be the one who soothed the emotions of the people after a flood destroyed lives and homes and sank the Castle into what is the Abyssal Ruins today."

The Archeops puffed up its chest, shook its frame and glanced at Skyla, as if waiting to prove that it was the very Pokémon Lenora was speaking of, eyes hungry for validation, tongue wriggling out of its beak. It wasn't known as the First Bird Pokémon for nothing. Lenora unknowingly stroked its ego with her words and any creature who prized their ego above all else, even above their defeatism, would suddenly be gung-ho to prove their ego had a place in the grand scheme of things, that they and only they could salvage this somber situation. It was with this energy that the group took the Archeops soul to the runway.

Surprisingly, it did not melt under the mellow heat of the sun which charted its earthward trajectory.

"Cheren," Rae started as she trained her eyes on the man fidgeting with his collar. "Is there something bothering you? You've been really quiet."

While Lenora spoke with Skyla along the way and Rae and her Pokémon kept the First Bird Pokémon entertained, Cheren merely shuffled behind the group.

"Icosa still hasn't replied to my texts," Cheren mumbled. "What kind of mentor am I if I am not worried?"

"Maybe he's waiting for us in the next city. Maybe his phone has run out of battery."

"I'm sorry, Rae, but I can't help but think his disappearance is unlike him. With the recent events, I am convinced Team Plasma has to do with it."

Archeops scratched its leg and began dashing down the runway, gaze locked on the bell at the top of the Celestial Tower. Skyla and Lenora cheered it on. Rae let slip a tiny smile, paused and shook her head.

"Because of his speech in Driftveil?"

"Yeah. Doesn't it make him more of a threat to them?"

"The Shadow Triad and whoever Harmonia is are the only ones left of Team Plasma. Icosa can hold his own against them. He has a Noivern. They are beasts."

"Right. He has his Exploud too."

"Yeah."

"We should take a detour to Straiton after this," Cheren said as Archeops's feet lifted off the runway and it began its flight. "That's the triplet's hometown."

Rae fought the urge to retort that maybe Cheren was wrong. Maybe Icosa was just busy or in a place without signal or he was lost in Chargestone Cave or he went back to Nimbasa. But they were dealing with uncertainties, none of which convincing.

"Look!" Lenora gasped and both Rae and Cheren turned to face the sun. Pale light soaked the First Bird Pokémon, giving it an ethereal sheen. The feathers attached to its wings swung in the air as they fell off, as if blessing the land. Its being shrank the further it flew, until a resonant gong brought waves of serenity over the city. Rae felt a flurry in her heart, a lightness in her lungs.

"This is it," Skyla sighed. She said there was no need to check on Archeops, that they only had to let it rest. Though, they should probably check on the people and Pokémon in the Gym.

The Gym was tranquil when they entered. Tears of sorrow transposed to relief. Not that grief was so easily let go of. Traces remained in the dark circles beneath the eyes, the pictures in phones and wallets. But for the time being, it felt like all that could be well was trying to be well. That much seemed enough.

Even Cheren didn't look as gloomy as he did.

Then a panting shadow drenched in water, sweat and tears blocked the Gym's entrance. Eyes diamond-cut behind chartreuse bangs.

"I-Icosa!" Cheren huffed and smacked him in the chest. "Dammit, don't you run off like that anymore."

The boy grimaced. "I can't promise you that, you know."

Lenora and Rae glanced at each other then stepped forward to embrace him.

"It's been a lot, hasn't it, this journey?" Lenora ruffled Icosa's hair. "We should take a break. I'm saying, we head back to Nacrene Museum and I serve you a hearty dinner. Sounds good?"

"Very good," said Icosa.

Rae lowered her gaze. It would be more convenient to head to Straiton afterwards too, which was what Cheren wanted, so she wasn't complaining. But what was this heaviness that settled in her heart now that Icosa was back?

He looked the same as when he left them. And yet there was something about him she couldn't quite pinpoint. Only when she looked at Zorozoro did she realise what it was. A bitterness passed down from generation to generation. A deviant, malicious aura.

Like he died and was reborn a man on a mission with nothing left to lose.