Once upon a time, after the last Iron Queen died protecting Sinnoh from the rage of the very gods that had once protected the land, a town near the heart of the region found itself infested with malicious spirits. Governors from the empire that had conquered Sinnoh found themselves at a loss at what to do with the unnamed shades destroying souls and corrupting sanities. The best they could do was seal the town off, and let none escape its boundaries.

Segregated from the rest of the world, and trapped in a sealed space, the survivors began to be hunted, one by one, until only a handful remained.

Trembling in fear and despair, they prayed to the gods to save them. As if to answer their calls, a priestess appeared, having broken through the barriers sealing the town. She ignored the toxicity of the spiritual miasma rising from spiteful souls as if such things could not touch her, and headed straight to the center of the malice, where she bound the worst of them, a hundred and eight souls tainted with sin, into a keystone's fissure as punishment.

The souls tried to break her spell, surging against the magical seal, but found that they could not – for they were selfish spirits that knew little to nothing of cooperation and empathy. They may have been powerful in their malice when alone, but forcibly merged into one united being, they could not move as they once had.

To further weaken the newly born ghost, the priestess called to one of the survivors to name it, for it was always a name that would negate the unknown's power of fear. He called it 'Kryppuk' and buried it in a shrine of purified stone, and from then on the worst of the unnamed spirits could be sealed into a tomb-like stone with a spell that would tie one hundred and eight different damned souls into a single entity.

Lucas wanted to ask Caitlin some more questions, because it was clear that she knew more about this area of knowledge than he did, but she shut him up.

"The voice carries the aura of the soul," she warned him in a hissed whisper. "Speak as little as possible. I can protect myself, but you can't."

Lucas shelved the question of how to protect himself, or just what she meant by the 'aura of the soul' for later. No speaking. Right.

Instead he decided to look at his surroundings and find the differences. It wasn't just the addition of body parts or blood on the walls that had changed. This parody of Ruhenden Tower's insides also had gravestones inside. A morbid part of him wondered what he would see if he tried to take pictures of the sights around him.

Every now and then, as he followed Caitlin into the mist that hid the distance from sight, the markers popped up at odd intervals. Sometimes, the shadows they cast were darker than they should have been, and Lucas didn't dare look too closely at them – even if they seemed to shiver and move slightly, rippling like a pool of liquid with an invisible foot stepping in them every now and then. Caitlin looked their way only to avoid touching them, and he followed her example because even the cursory glance made him queasy in his stomach like he had eaten bad meat.

For all his uncertainty on interact with her, Caitlin proved to be a good guide. In intervals of what felt like five minutes, she would stop to pray a little, and then head down a direction with certainty in her steps.

Once, she paled and grabbed him with one hand, using the other to urgently raise a finger to her lips. Lucas kept his mouth shut and copied her as she ducked behind a mound of gravestones, breathing as quietly as he could while she closed her eyes in intense focus.

He didn't dare look out from behind the cold stone, but he heard sounds like something – some things, many in number – papery-thin rustling and brushing against each other in a light breeze and feathery whispers, and shook with fear of the unknown. They stayed kneeling, Caitlin locked in quiet prayer and him silently praying to the Spirits to hopefully help Caitlin and keep his mind distracted, for what felt like hours before the whispers faded into the eerie silence from before and she finally reopened her eyes.

He held his tongue for a while, but eventually, as they continued wandering the inside of the tower, curiosity won over his hesitance.

"How are you doing that?" Lucas asked in the quietest whisper after the latest silent prayer she completed to find her bearings. The way she led him down had less of the gruesome decorations like rotting heads or bloody paintings, and less of the odd shadows hanging out. Caitlin couldn't do much about the air, cold in a way that made him think of something covertly creeping into his bones, but she gave him a purpose, a path to go down, so he didn't complain.

She gave him a pointed look and raised her finger to her lip. So even whispers were out.

"You can ask me questions later," she said tensely, dabbing at her temples with a handkerchief. Lucas thought handkerchiefs seemed a bit old-fashioned, especially the kind like the lace-edged one she carried with her, but at the same time it suited her. Her hands shook lightly as well. "Right now, you just need to know that I am talented enough to be a laic priestess, and that currently I am your best chance of getting out of this alive."

Lucas flushed, realizing that she had misunderstood his questioning to be doubt of her abilities. "I-"

The glare she gave him with her light-shaded eyes shut him up. He would apologize and let her know that it was just pure curiosity, not doubt of her that had made him question her.

Lucas decided that he would try to show her his trust by following her exact orders without question until they were out of here.

As if the world wanted to laugh at him, at the very next moment he heard the terrified scream of a young girl tear the silent air into pieces.

He jumped at the sudden sound, but more importantly he recognized that voice and his heart dropped. That sounded like Dawn.

Dawn. He was the one who asked her to come with him here. What if she got hurt or, even worse, died?

Then it was all his fault.

He tried to mouth to Caitlin as best as he could, wanting to get a message across without speaking. His frantic mouthing only seemed to confuse her.

"Help!"

The single word was like icy nails scratching down his back, hard enough to break skin and spread the cold like poison. The cold and guilt infected him instantly.

In that moment Lucas did the most reckless thing he had ever done in his life. He ran towards the source of the scream, into an area of the mist Caitlin had not cleared.

"Wait! Rowan!" Caitlin cried out from behind him, but he couldn't afford to stop or even slow down.

The cold, like a sharp stab down her spine, woke her up.

Dawn opened her eyes and found her teeth chattering together, thanks to the wet chill crawling up her back. She climbed to her feet, only to nearly slip and fall on the icy ground below her.

"No way," she said, but her voice sounded small and insignificant in the snowy field she stood in, with only blinding white on the ground and darkness as far as she could see till the limits of her sight blurred and faded with thick fog. Like standing in the middle of nowhere on a winter night.

"Hello?" she called, dusting off the snow on her body to the best of her abilities. Her fingers were beginning to ache with cold, so she tucked them into the crook of her neck to warm them up, flinching at how icy they felt against her skin.

Nothing.

Dawn patted her waist, and found her Poké balls still there, much to her relief. So she had her Pokémon, and her Pokédex, and –

She dug out the folded-up tag Tina had given her, for when something went wrong.

When, not if. Tina had probably realized something would go wrong. Which meant that there was an expert currently working on fixing things. Dawn made sure to tuck it into her breast pocket and zip it up so it wouldn't end up slipping out, and then reached for her Pokémon. The scared part of her wanted to release all of them, but she didn't have her bag on her, having left it to the side of the room, and in the worst-case scenario didn't want to have them hurt without anything to treat them with.

But at the same time it would be stupid to not have any of them out. She grabbed the first one and released her Lopunny.

Frejya slid her pink eyes across the snowy field, assessing her surroundings, before she rolled them back to Dawn with an exasperated, almost accusing look, as if she wanted to know what Dawn had gotten herself into this time.

"It's not my fault," she said reflexively, feeling accused of something she was completely innocent of. Because it really wasn't her fault that what was supposed to be a simple spiritual ceremony had gone terribly wrong. As far as she knew, anyways.

Dawn quickly explained what was going on before Frejya could give her more looks of doubt. About how there had been an exorcism, but something went wrong, and it was most likely because of ghosts.

Frejya tipped her head in thought, before she shrugged one ear deliberately. Dawn was confused at that action, until Frejya's pointed glance and repetition reminded her of how they had won the Relic badge from Fantina. "Oh, right, foresight!"

Honestly, the reason she had released Frejya was because she was the fluffiest and warmest one on hand. Good thing her Pokémon hadn't forgotten about how to deal with ghost-types. As long as one of them remembered, this would be easier.

Her Lopunny rolled her eyes before directing her gaze elsewhere. Dawn just smiled at her luck, thanking the Spirits that she had a smart Pokémon. This wasn't too bad. Now all she had to do was –

Frejya shoved her aside, and Dawn lost her balance. Too surprised, she couldn't regain her footing, and only managed to fall properly without hurting herself. She rolled around to see what was going on and saw a curtain of darkness cascading over where her head had been.

Pink eyes blazing angrily in the dim light, Frejya swung at the air with a hard fist, and the miasma roiled angrily. Dawn heard something break behind her head, and a scream of pained outrage with a multitude of layered voices.

She scrambled back to her feet just as Frejya ducked to avoid the rush of fog she could not see past, and then grabbed her hand. The fierce pull told Dawn all she needed to know.

They needed to get out of here.

They ran until Frejya slowed, wary eyes scanning the air around them but not reacting. Dawn nearly sat on the ground, cold be damned, but she refrained, even while she leaned forwards with both hands on her knees and panted. The last thing she needed was to be wet and cold from the ice, and –

Her breath didn't catch completely, but it did slow. Deliberately, she drew in more air, and then released it through her mouth.

No foggy breath.

She leaned forwards and brushed her finger against the ground. Cold, for sure, but it wasn't ice or snow like she had thought. There was no sense of dampness that came with the chill.

No condensation. That begged the question, was it actually cold?

Dawn swallowed.

"Frejya," she said, reaching out and holding onto her Lopunny's paw. The claws, the firm pads hidden under the curls of tan fur and the strength hidden in the small paw felt very real to her. "Do you see a snowfield here?"

The Lopunny looked, and then shook her head.

Dawn flicked her eyes to the direction where they had come from. The screaming dark air, the weird surroundings, the lack of people around. The laughing, the cold feeling she finally placed.

It all made sense now.

The air was cold, like it got around Janice sometimes, and not just because of the part of her that was an ice-type. Like it had been at the Hearthome Gym, except back then she'd felt safe enough to ignore the slight chill around her.

Here, the cold affected her differently. Her breath didn't turn into a white fog – it wasn't the physical temperature that was cold. It was the chill of a foreboding feeling, like something bad was about to happen. Psychological, rather than an actual, physical change in temperature.

Dawn couldn't fully trust her senses.

She released a shaky breath that didn't fog even though it felt like it should have, and thought for a moment before she dug out her Pokédex.

"Frejya, keep watch please?" she asked, and pressed the power button of her Pokédex. It turned on, much to her relief. There was no wireless connection or transmission signal, but the pages and information on Spiritomb she'd searched up and saved onto the device were still available to be read.

She skipped over the pages on the details of the Pokémon, and the myths related to it – those, she'd read up about plenty enough already – and chose the ones about rituals relating to sealing Spiritomb. The ritual was held out of necessity, in places that either served as a sink for wandering spirits to gather in, or in places where great tragedy had taken place and many lives were lost violently – somewhere with lots of ghosts, and would attract 'evil', vengeful spirits easily.

Ruhenden Tower was the former. Dawn skimmed some more. Notable places where the latest rituals were performed successfully were, apart from Ruhenden Tower, a shipwreck in Hoenn and a graveyard in Kalos. Not relevant to what was going on right now, she was already in the tower the last time she checked.

Clerics or people with powers were necessary for the ritual. Exorcists, purifiers, and any other priests that could pray and bless the process. The more priests participated, the more likely it was that the ritual would succeed. Already told to her by Tina, and she wasn't a cleric who could do that so that wasn't helpful.

Finally, she got to the part discussing how the ritual could fail and potential dangers.

There was a lot of stress on how rituals should be carried out with utmost care and caution, as one hundred and eight spirits were a lot for any exorcist to have to deal with, even disorganized as the ones being bound into the keystone were. If the exorcist wasn't strong enough, or if the keystone to hold them wasn't sufficiently purified, then it gave the spirits a chance to break free.

And, with the sheer number gathered all desperate to not go back, they could wreak havoc on their surroundings and hurt those around them.

That didn't sound good. Dawn swallowed, the sound loud in her ears, and continued to read, this time out loud in a hushed voice so Frejya could hear.

"'The spirits that break free are dangerous, even more than regular ghost-types on a rampage because they are not sealed and given a name to control them. Lacking a name, they have no need to follow the laws ghost-types follow and are prone to violently lashing out. This starts a vicious cycle of fear in victims where they grow more afraid, feeding and strengthening the unnamed spirits, and in turn leading to more fear, and so on.'"

Dawn made a face and kept reading in the hopes of finding a way to actually deal with it, but came up empty.

So. All she could do was remain calm, and not be scared, and hope that the other priests would be able to do something about it before it was too late. Frejya's face was as impressively blank as always when Dawn summed it up for her. At least it would be easy enough for one of them.

A snapping sound made both Dawn and Frejya turn around. It had sounded like a branch breaking, but there was nothing there, and no one that could have made the sound.

Dawn shut the Pokédex after turning it off and tucked it back into her pocket.

"Maybe we both imagined it?" she suggested, not believing it herself.

Frejya rolled her eyes towards Dawn, and pointedly raised an eyebrow before she tackled her down onto the ground.

Before they could hit the ground, however, Dawn felt something hard hit her head, just catching the top of the skull. A second later, the pain exploded into existence and made itself be known.

When he finally reached the source of the scream, his first thought was – shamefully – relief. The young woman crumpled on the ground, face down and curled in on herself, was definitely not Dawn. She was one of the younger clerics, in the robes of a novice.

Lucas let out a huff. Now that he knew it wasn't Dawn, he was starting to think rationally again, and realized just what he had done.

Stupid and reckless. Lucas winced, but tried to justify it to himself. He was only trying to help. There was someone in need of aid – and even if that person was a stranger, that didn't make coming to their aid somehow less right. It was what Barry and Dawn would have done, right?

"Are you -" he probably shouldn't be speaking, but the girl was a cleric, so that was probably okay. "Are you alright, miss?"

She didn't answer, but a few gagging sounds made their way to his ears. She was spasming lightly, too, shaking and twitching on the ground.

Concerned that she would choke, Lucas put a light hand to her shoulder. "I'm just going to try and turn you to your-"

The novice's head snapped up, and his words ended with a scream. The skin on her face was paper-like and rough, almost scaled.

No, not scaled. Those were cracks. The skin was breaking like old, crumbling paper, and red-tinged tears were running in between them from her eyes. Or maybe that was blood, mixed with her tears.

"You," she snarled in a voice that was guttural and grating, like rocks being crushed or loud machinery whirring. Not at all what a teenage girl should have sounded like.

He froze, terrified, as she grabbed at him with the same peeling-skinned hands.

Only a burst of light, and small hands grabbing his shoulders from behind and yanking him up brought him out of his terror.

"Run!" Caitlin hissed at Lucas, tugging at his hand, and he obeyed.

Behind him he heard the novice howling in anguish, but he didn't look back.

The fog swallowed them up.

For a moment Dawn's vision was nothing but stars against black. Only a furry paw with claws tugging urgently at her arm managed to pull her back, and she scrambled backwards with Frejya.

Her vision returned to normal just in time to let her see the mass of shadows try to settle around her head. With a gasp, she propelled herself backwards with her hands and feet scrambling at the ground. The air smelt like something rotting, like food gone bad only worse. Like old blood and cold air, the smell assaulted her nostrils.

Frejya, still on the ground, lashed out with her long legs into a devastating uppercut kick before using the momentum to spring back onto her feet. Fists ablaze with fire, she jabbed with quick precision at the shadows that had grown far thicker and darker than before.

What did Dawn know about ghosts and their habits? Remnants of the dead, shadows of souls that once lived, held in place by a particularly strong emotion – usually negative, like a grudge or vengeance.

Ghost-types could eat food, sort of, but they also fed off emotions, especially those considered more 'negative'. Surprise, fear, despair, sadness . . . .

Even Janice, who wasn't a ghost-type by birth, fed off on emotions sometimes. She usually absorbed minor fear from shock her prank victims got – and Dawn would know, she was Janice's favourite victim and snack vending machine – but she could take in more, if presented with the opportunity.

And whatever thing was here definitely had the opportunity.

Dawn tried to stay hopeful and calm as she released Sekhmet. The Luxray roared upon release but faltered when she saw her opponents were shapeless masses of writhing shadows.

"Spark, Sekhmet!" Dawn cried as she dug for the ball containing her Golbat. "Run electricity around your body and let Frejya guide you!"

Crackling lightning began to raise the hair of Sekhmet's dark mane as she turned to face against –

Fog. A thick cloud of something that had no shape or solidity. Even the passive spark had no effect on the mist, and it seemed even Frejya's best efforts were only managing to keep the fog at bay. Slowly, the shapeless thing was closing in, strangling out the light as it did so. There was less sounds of impact Frejya had made earlier on, with many of her swings ending up simply punching vapor.

Sekhmet's ears flattened against her head and her eyes narrowed in rage. She bared her fangs and roared, but the misty shadows only giggled. Threads of lightning lit up the dark cloud around her head like a thunderstorm in the night, but there was more darkness than light.

t̷̗̹̥̠̰̹̘R̼̹̯͍̲̘̕ͅy ̲͇̬A̬̯̘̖͍̲̜g̸͙͓͚̠̞̖A̢̺̤̲̤i̻͕̙͎̞͡N̺̳̘̞̮̣͖

Dawn flinched at the voices, sharp and dissonant like rusty nails dragged across a chalkboard. The stench grew worse and she gagged, sharp acid churning at the back of her throat and burning.

t̳Ṛ̬y͓͍͖̹͙͕̜ ͇̣̮͔̫̩̳A̠̘̤̘͎͎͚g̯A̹̜̹ͅi̟̜̥̣N͈͔̞͎̣͖
̮
͚̩̫̜̯̺lIVi͇̝̟̼N̗̻̼͇͈̜͎G̪͓ ̹̤͔̩̟̫f͖̙̙LE͍̜̝ṣH̥̟̞̳̲ o̮H̘͉̤̟͔ ̞H̩o̱͈͇̭̣̺̮W̱̩͇͎̹̤͙ ͈̥̠̼͇͈L͇̦o̱͈̺ͅN̼͎͙G̙̤̤̣͇ ̳̮iT̼̼'̠̬̯͎̰̱͍S͙ ̘̠b͖̝̹̯̬̟E̞̱̤͙͈̯̖E͍̜̯͚n̖̦̦ͅ
͈̘̱͔̺̣̹
m̹̗͇̠iN͉͔̱ͅe̟͔͔̻͓ ̰̰̠̲̫̭m̯̩̹̣I̗̮̣̟ṉe̩̖͔̫̦ ͈͎̞̺̻̰M̘͚͖i͖̹̳͉͉͈͔n̩̟̼̦̤̺͈E̻̪
̲̻̰̞̦
̳̣̗̣̹͚͚i̦̝̤͇̰͈̹T̫͖̼̺̝̞̺'̰̪̥s̻̺̤̮ ̹͖̝͓͖ͅṮ̟͈̜̮̭̱h̭͔̭̩̲̟̲E̳ ͎͕̥͚̥̭b͖̦̼̰͉̯L̻͍͓o̱̘͕̱͇O̦͓̻̳̘d̤̹̳̣̘͎̙ ̮̖̹̗O̳̫͓̬̲̹f̺̞͇̱ ̗O͎͚̼l͍̤̠͈D͍ a̘̯͚̻̞̗N̼̩̬͉̘̭ͅd̠ P̟̞͚̗o̜͓͈̥̙̤W̜͚̰̖̦e͎͕ͅR̦͍

The shadows gathered around Sekhmet's head, and the Luxray shook her head as if to shake them off. It had no effect, and only converged further.

m̥͈͕͉̱̮͎O͉͚̘̯̲͎r͇͓̪E͕͕ ͓b̝̺̯̼̼L̖̳̲̞͉͔o̤̠̯̥̰O̮d̞̥͔̻̘̹̘
͈̲̟͕̼ͅͅ
̙̳̼̭M̤̭̜͉͎o̖̰͔͚̪Ṛ̙͎e͕̯̦͖̻ ͙̟BlO͉̖͇͙͕͙o̹̱͚̟D̬̬
̤̮̱
̣͓m̯̭̣̯Oṟ͈͔̙̗̮E̹̭̜̗̱͓̝ ̲̺̯̥̖̮̦b͇̘͕L̘̲̥̩̹̹̯o̘̙̳O͎̼͓͚̖̘d̙̬̘̝̲ͅ

'More' blood?

Dawn raised a hand to her head, the place that had been struck by something, and felt wetness by the tips of her fingers. Around the same place the shadows had tried to gather – no, did gather – before they grew darker and began speaking.

If this was like one of those horror movies where blood sacrifices made ghost-types stronger then –

Then this had gotten a lot scarier. And that was all Dawn could think about, because there was a lot of blood in her body she wasn't willing to part with.

b̽̏̐̄ͧ̈́ͯU͞ẗͮ̀̀ ̂ͤ̾ͬ͞B̧̎̊̓̓̈́ȩͥF̒̔ȍ̃ͥ̔R͗ͨ́e̶͐ͮ̓ ̄͛Fͫ͌ȩ̒͐Ȃ̡͊̈́s̅ͣ̑͒ͩ̚T̈ͮ̌͜i̓͆́̽̈́̆̚Ǹ͆̀g̍,̔͗͆͐ ̾̅ͮ̌̂͠T͋ͫ̆̐͠hͮI͒ͭͩ̐̐sͭ̔ͯ̆ͧ̋ ̷͒̒ͮ̔O̒̏̇̏nͯ̉͌E̶ͮͤ ̃ͯ̄ͥ̿̏ͦ͢ẅ́͒͂͗ͮͧ͠I̒l̢ͨL͢ ̷̊̍ͫ͌̇̾ͬd̢Ȍͣ̃ͤ̔

"Frejya, foresight!"

Her Lopunny punched and weaved to dodge a shadow trying to wrap a tendril around her throat before shaking her head. That was a no, then.

"Sekhmet, cover her!" There was nothing to bite and she wondered if the type advantage would have enough of an effect.

Better play it safe. "Spark!"

But there was no run of electricity around Sekhmet's dark fur. Only something dark and smoky.

"Sekhmet?"

A low growl answered her.

Frejya dodged and ducked near Sekhmet, trying with limited success to chase off the shadows. It was only by a split second that she suddenly threw her body to the side to dodge Sekhmet's snapping jaw.

"Sekhmet!" Dawn cried out, but with shadows still wreathing her head, her Luxray growled again, baring her sharp fangs.

Frejya slowly shifted her body so that she was between Sekhmet and Dawn. Her fists were raised in a position to guard her face, and she was tense, almost vibrating.

Sekhmet's head twitched to the side erratically. The shadows giggled some more and drifted around her head. The Luxray's eyes left Frejya and focused on her, and an erratic shudder ran through her body, like her joints were threatening to burst.

Several things became clear in that moment. One, Sekhmet was possessed. Which wasn't good, for obvious reasons. Two, the only reason Frejya, despite having been out longer than Sekhmet, wasn't possessed was because of her status as a normal-type or because she had used foresight, or maybe both. Three, she was in danger of being attacked by her own Pokémon. One of her strongest. While she was possessed by ghosts that wanted her blood.

"Sekhmet," Dawn said slowly as she reached for her pockets. Maybe it was like a status infliction that could be erased by being returned to the ball. She just had to avoid making sudden movements that would tip her hand. To Sekhmet or the ghosts. Her pounding heart and shaking hands made it difficult, but Dawn made herself take it slow.

She drew in a breath to try and calm herself and hated how shaky it was. "I know you're stronger than this."

A growl answered her words. Frejya smoothly shifted her weight, and Sekhmet's eyes flickered over to the Lopunny for a moment.

"Neptune will never let this one go, you know," she continued. If she could make a joke, she could pretend that it was all okay, that it would all be alright. "The great Sekhmet possessed by some unnamed ghosts."

The answering growl this time was a lot more emotion-packed. Maybe it was working. Or maybe just working enough to make Sekhmet angry at her, which wasn't great.

Dawn's shaking fingers touched the familiar object. It took another second to grasp the ball.

Sekhmet roared.

Forget going slow.

Hands clutching the ball tightly as she yanked it out from her pocket, Dawn jammed her thumb onto the button to recall Sekhmet –

Just as the Luxray leapt forwards.

Lucas, having seen Barry and his crazy method of training, did not by any means consider himself particularly fit, but he was starting to re-evaluate himself in a more positive light after seeing Caitlin. Just from the brief sprinting, she was already sweating and trembling, and her breathing was so hard it was almost desperate like every exchange of air was a fight she was badly losing. He saw what she had meant by having limitations on what she could do.

It was only a matter of time before they got caught, and Caitlin couldn't run any further. She could barely move forwards. He wanted to carry her on his back, but though he was physically more in shape when compared to her, he wasn't strong enough to run while carrying her. All he could do was take the lead, pulling her with him, and occasionally change directions when she tugged at their joined hands.

"We have to fight," he said as quietly as he could, coming to a conclusion. Caitlin had released a Gallade earlier on, who had done some damage, but he had quickly been returned, Caitlin managing to say in between huffs and puffs that he wasn't hers.

Lucas wasn't the best trainer, but he'd seen Dawn and Barry train their Pokémon under Professor Rowan's guidance, more than once. He had to have picked up some of their skills. If there was one thing he was good at, it was learning, and he had the best teachers.

This is just application, he told himself. He could do this. The ominous miasma chasing them looked like they were actually increasing – in darkness, in size, whatever it was – and he didn't like the feeling it gave him.

Caitlin's breathing was hard, filled with huffing and puffing sounds, but the exhale of air in response to his words was particularly harsh.

"Hold on," she said, voice cracking. She all but fell into a sitting position and scratched at the ground. Lucas watched until she had dug out a semicircle, and then he joined her efforts to dig with their fingernails a circle just large enough for them to sit in without touching each other. Once that was done, she wiped her hands on a handkerchief before grabbing the rosary on her wrist and kneeling.

"I'm going to put up a barrier," Caitlin said. The determined set of her face was offset both by the sweat and the remains of the harsh breathing from the burst of running, and the slight uncertainty that crept in her next words seconds later. "Of sorts . . . ."

The hesitant uncertainty was like a slap to the face. Caitlin, who had looked so confident and sure of what she was doing, was unsure and scared as well. She was just a girl around his age, not an expert ghostbuster.

"I'll try to hold it until someone can help us," she said. "But it requires for me to be concentrated, so don't make noise if you can, and don't leave the circle."

It wasn't much of an explanation, but she looked urgent, so he nodded.

"If you do have to leave the circle, even though I told you not to," she said as she closed her eyes and positioned the rosary so it was between her fingers and raised to her brow. Lucas cringed because he did kind of deserve that. "Don't break the line making the circle. Step over it."

And then she began reciting the words to a hymn dedicated to Shaymin. Lucas knew the words from a popular Yule song, but though the catchy melody floated through his head, he didn't dare hum along.

His skin prickled, and he felt the hair on his arms raise up. The very air seemed to fill with static electricity, and there was almost a stinging sensation crawling up his spine.

Outside the circle, like a winter storm howling and rattling a house, the miasma swirled around maliciously.

It was one thing to work with Sekhmet on the strength and speed of her lunges during training sessions. It was another thing entirely to be on the receiving end of one.

She owed every single opponent of Sekhmet's that had faced her a sincere apology for making them see something so terrifying. Claws extended, jaw filled with fangs opened and threatening, and the roar that made her freeze up in fear –

A split second more and she would have been . . .

Shaking, Dawn snatched up the ball. In a race between the laser and Sekhmet, the laser had been just fast enough to beat the Luxray.

"Let's go!" she shouted to Frejya. The adrenaline was still rushing, and she didn't want to be here when it was out.

Frejya snapped to her feet, and they briefly scrambled, trying to figure out the best place to run to.

"Somewhere without – those things," Dawn decided, and Frejya led her – hopefully – away from the miasma. The space they were in seemed to blur. She was no longer seeing what looked to be a snowfield, cold and merciless and devoid of life. Her surroundings were still pale, but it was blurred, like a photo taken out of focus, and wavering in the corner of her eyes.

Like something out of a dream, maybe. She couldn't make out the details of the environment she was in.

Two minutes into their run Frejya stopped, hackles raising, and tugged Dawn down a different way, only to stop again. She growled lowly, forelimbs tensed and held up with ready fists.

Dawn went through how they had run. Straight away from the place where Sekhmet had been possessed, and a few changes in direction. She turned her head, and miasma was beginning to seep around them, until they were enclosed.

A trap.

Frejya jumped in front of Dawn and staggered as something struck her face. The next blow – a sharp lash, like being struck by a willow branch or a whip – hit Dawn this time, from behind, and she had to clench her jaw to keep from screaming at the white-hot pain. It dulled, but it still ached fiercely like a fiery reminder of their situation.

More blows came at them, little by little. Two more struck Frejya – despite the Lopunny's best attempts to retaliate with a fire punch – and one more hit Dawn, this time on her left arm.

Something slimy licked – that was the only word she could use to describe it, really – her forehead, and it stung like iodine being poured on an open wound. It exacerbated the injury, and more blood began to trickle down from it.

[b͡͝L҉oÒ̧d͠]͞͡

[̶͇̘ͅm̜͙̦̦̖̥̩O͉̪̖̜r̴̜E̜̻͕̹͍͕ ̫̰͇͉̱m̴̦͕̼̬̥Or̭̼̖̭͟E̛̼͖ ͅm̬̘̥̳O̴̤̜͚̙̜̻r̷E͉̜̦̩]̹̘͖̞͔͎

Giggles, distorted voices overlapping each other echoed around them disturbingly.

They were playing with them, Dawn thought in horror. More fear meant more strength, and there was no need to rob them of their lives just yet – not when there was still a lot of fear that could be drawn from Frejya and her.

Frejya looked as put together as she always did, but the twitchy way she looked around and the rapid flicking of her eyes was enough for Dawn to know her Lopunny was nervous.

Blood trickled down her face from the side of her forehead.

While the ghostly fog circled around slowly like a wary predator, each circle slowly closing the distance between them, Dawn assessed the situation. Frejya was the only Pokémon she had with her, and after seeing what had happened with Sekhmet she wasn't sure if she should send out anyone else. But that meant Frejya had to deal with all the threats – and protecting Dawn – on her own, and that was impossible.

Was this it, then?

Torn by the limited choices she had, the fear spread inside her, and the ghostly fog grew bolder. Frejya's fists lit up in fire and ice, and her punches grew faster and wilder.

Realizing that her fear was making things worse, Dawn took a deep breath.

"Mesprit help us," she mumbled.

What she hadn't expected was the fog to flinch at her words like they had been the ones struck, and cease advancing on them.

Hope flickered in her, and she dug out the tag Tina had given her. The letters on the paper seemed to blur, although Dawn couldn't say it was because of her eyesight.

The fog faltered and slipped away, and in their place a solid, real hand with fingers just slightly less cold than the fog had been came to rest on Dawn's shoulders, too solid to belong to a ghost. Dawn twisted her head around to see the hand, sleeved in the robes of a priestess, connected to Tina.

The Renegade's priestess looked furious, red eyes flashing dangerously and mouth set in the most unforgiving pressed lips, to the point where Dawn actually thought she looked scarier than Johanna when she was wearing her scariest smile. Where her mother was like sharp wire closing in around the throat, seemingly delicate but dangerous, Tina just looked ready to tear someone apart with her bare hands, and declare war with blood dripping from her fingers.

"Commander," she said, red eyes lacking any room for mercy. "General. Destroy them."

From behind her flew forth two ghost-types, and though it felt odd to use such a word to describe them, both were much more solid than the fog of the unnamed ghosts. One was the Dusclops, maybe from Lake Valor, while the other was a Mismagius, shadowy dress more tattered and eerie looking than Fantina's own witch-like ghost had, almost like it had flown through several dusty cobwebs and thorny bushes.

The bandage-wrapped General immediately began hammering away at the fog with its large fists, and unlike Dawn's attempts, it had immediate action, dispelling the fog easily. Next to him, the Mismagius crooned and chanted in a tongue Dawn couldn't understand, and runes the color of tarnished silver were drawn mid-air, almost as if someone was dripping them onto an invisible wall. The spells warded everyone still alive and banished the fog-forms like the morning sun.

Within minutes, the air around them was cleared.

Dawn exhaled in relief, and it came out in hiccoughs, making her entire body shudder.

"Thank you," she managed to say without biting off her tongue.

Tina merely nodded.

Outside the barrier, the eerie fog churned like a storm, and it filled him with the same kind of dread and terror an actual storm might.

It didn't help that he heard groaning sounds, like the boards and windows of a house creaking in protest against the force of nature trying to break through. The barrier was creaking with exertion, straining against the fog trying to break in. Caitlin's eyes were tightly squeezed shut, and the sweat dripping down her face, not just from their earlier run, almost looked like tears. He knew he was damp in the face from fear.

"You okay?" he whispered. He must have been a mess, what with the sweat dripping down his face and everything. He wiped at it with the back of his sleeve and then nearly screamed when he saw the red smear on his clothes.

Blood. That was blood. Not sweat like he had originally thought.

But he wasn't bleeding . . . ?

He raised his head, and almost instantly wished he hadn't. In the ceiling there was a bloody, rotting face, smiling at him with yellowed teeth and exposed bone.

Lucas had just enough time to push Caitlin as hard as he could before the bloody mess of the face dropped down on him, shadow-eaten hands reaching out to claw at him. With a shattering sound, he saw a transparent barrier over their heads break, and there was nothing between him and the monster now.

He did scream this time.

Since Tina had to go after everyone in this place, and Dawn wasn't safe on her own, they went together. She realized what might have happened to her if Tina hadn't given her a cleanse tag before everything went to hell, or if Tina hadn't found her soon enough. The priest they ran into was a little like Sekhmet had been, in that he was clearly not normal and had a cloud of fog around his head.

Dawn had the instinctive need to take a step back, away from the man who looked almost rabid. Tina did the opposite and not only took a step forwards but kept going until she was directly in front of the man. She grabbed the possessed priest by the front of his shirt.

Dawn's jaw dropped open as the priestess clenched a fist with her empty hand and punched the poor possessed man in his gut, hard enough to nearly bury her entire fist into his abdomen.

Possessed or not, the pain clearly got through. The man let out a choked sound and fell limp into Tina's arms for a moment before she shoved him off her.

"Will he be okay?" Dawn asked as General grabbed the unconscious man by the back of his shirt and put him onto the ground. It was gentler than letting him fall after Tina had shoved him, but just barely.

Tina dusted off her hands. "He will be now."

This was a lot different from what she imagined at the word 'exorcism' – far less prayers, for one – but the man was no longer leaking miasma from his mouth and nose, so Dawn decided to have a little faith.

It was a good thing Dawn acquired flexibility in her faith, because the next five people they ran into were all in similar states and received similar treatments to be cured of their possessed states. Sometimes they had to be punched a few more times – and Tina wasn't one to not practice diversity, she hit them in the gut, on their back, and once, even slapped a man's face with the same unimpressed look – but for the most part, physical violence was all Tina used. Frejya seemed to be taking note of her punching forms by the third person who was exorcised.

"Is this how all exorcisms are performed?" Dawn asked, when the latest rescued person – a girl a bit older than her – slumped. There was blood running down her face, and scars that looked like hairline cracks on a china doll.

Tina faintly smirked. "No. An exorcism for a non-cleric is more complicated because they're more vulnerable. They're all priests, so all they really need is a little shock to snap out of it."

Her smile disappeared when she saw the number of people.

"But at this rate," she muttered, and then dug in her pocket for a cracked stone. From her wrist she unravelled a rosary, a string of tarnished silver beads with a golden crystal at the center.

"Here," she said briskly, handing both over to Dawn. "While I beat up more people, you can help me purify the stone."

She wasn't even calling it an exorcism now. It might have been funny if they weren't in the situation right then and there. Dawn took the two objects into her hands. The stone was rough to touch, and felt cool like most stones did. The rosary felt like a rosary, except it was ice-cold to the touch. Maybe the crystal and the silver beads absorbed the negative temperatures. "How do I do that?"

Tina paused, as if realizing that Dawn wasn't one of the priests she was beating up in the name of exorcism.

"You can pray," she said at last. "All you need is a clear, strong wish for the stone to hold the spirits, but prayer might help as a mantra of sorts to focus those desires."

She could do that. "Who should I pray to?"

"Any god you want, it doesn't really matter," Tina answered, in the careless manner of someone answering 'anything' to the question 'what do you want to eat?'. "I just need a purified keystone."

Dawn looked at the stone and sure enough, that was a cracked stone. A keystone.

Three things needed to seal a Spiritomb – a keystone, someone to purify said stone and air, and an exorcist. The first and last were here, and that meant what Tina was saying was –

"I don't think I'm qualified," Dawn said, because she didn't have powers and she wasn't a priest.

"It's the thought that counts," Tina said, as if her words weren't inappropriate at all. Those words were hardly okay when a poor-quality gift was given, or a card and only a card. It certainly wasn't okay when telling a Not Priest person to purify a stone to seal rampaging spirits on the loose. "Thought that which dictates action. Not mindless, blind following of tradition, because nothing is farthest from true understanding like blind obedience."

"Is it really action that I'm about to do, though?" Dawn questioned, since they were on the topic of blind obedience.

Tina didn't mind, still explaining patiently. "Yes. You're about to defy nameless spirits that want to possess or use you, and fight against them. The gods aren't the ones saving you – you are."

"Is that something a priest should be telling an impressionable young trainer?" Dawn wondered, because while she was flattered, at the moment blaspheming didn't seem like the smart choice.

"It is if that priest is a servant of the Renegade."

That was the best comeback that ever would be, and Dawn shut her mouth only to ask another question. "So should I pray to the Renegade? Because I don't know any prayers for your god."

"Me neither."

Dawn gave her a look of disbelief, but Tina shrugged it off with a reminder from their earlier conversation. "We don't pray to the Renegade, and I don't pray that often in my exorcisms."

Well, Dawn had seen how good of a puncher she was, so she wasn't going to argue on the exorcism front. "Is Mesprit's Rally fine?"

"Perfect."

Rosary in hand, Dawn swallowed.

"Remember that words have power, and," the priestess looked at her like her red eyes could see through her, down to her very soul. Dawn froze. "Put the faith you have in yourself into it."

With those vague but almost-frightening and kind-of-charismatic words, Tina resumed walking

Dawn rubbed her thumb against the first metal bead. It felt cold against the pad of her fingers, and didn't warm up very quickly. Maybe it was just because the inside of this field felt chilled.

"Mesprit," she began, one step behind Tina. "Guardian of emotions who resides in Lake Verity."

Frejya copied her, bowing her head slightly and pulling her paws over her chest where her heart would approximately be. That, more than anything she might have been able to think of, gave Dawn the belief. If her Pokémon believed in her enough to follow her example, then she could believe in herself. Her team had great judgement.

"Grant me the courage to brave my fears," Dawn whispered. "Fill me with the love to forgive my foes. Let me hope and preserve joy in times of hardship, and keep steadily calm on my path."

That was one. She rolled the string of beads in her hand and tugged the next bead forwards, before beginning anew. "Mespirit, Guardian of emotions who resides in Lake Verity . . ."

The prayers, the beads solidly representing the numbers of times she repeated the comforting words, Frejya solemnly guarding her side, they all helped. By the time Tina finished with three more people, Dawn was through the entire rosary, and the stone warm from being clutched in her hand for the whole time.

But there was a new worry gnawing away at her thoughts now. None of those three, or the previously rescued people, were Lucas.

His entire sight went black. Not in the sense of 'he passed out and everything went black', but in the 'something covered his sight and cut off all the light' kind.

And worst of all, Lucas could feel the bony hands gripping his neck, his shoulders, his body – how many hands were grabbing him?

He struggled, but they were stronger, spindly, bony fingers that had no business being as strong and painful as they were grabbing and muffling his screams. His mouth and nose filled with the taste and stench of something rotting. He didn't know what it was, or if it was a solid or a liquid, just that it was rotten, made his head spin with the smell, and made his stomach churn violently.

T͜͝H̵̀͞͝I̢͟͟S̷̛̕ ̸̀͝Ơ̷̢̕N̴̢̛̕Ȩ̕͞͏̷ ̡̢҉W̢̛͢͞I͏̴L̴͜͠͝L̵͞ ̵̧̛̛̀B̸̢́͠É̢̀͢͢ ́D҉̶͝͞É̡́͘L̛̀͢͡͝Į͘C̵͝I̢̛̕O͜U͢҉́͠Ś͞͡

Its voice was booming in his head. Or maybe it was speaking into his ears.

If he hadn't been busy trying to survive, he might have been despairing at the someone saying he had the potential for greatness being a ghost trying to kill him. As it was, Lucas was too busy trying to survive to give that train of thought much attention.

"Rowan!"

A bright burst of light exploded like a supernova, but the darkness returned almost immediately, and the contrast made it even darker. Panicked, Lucas thrashed and felt his hand hit something that didn't feel as cold and unnatural like the thing clinging to his head.

A cry of pain that sounded like Caitlin confirmed it.

Oh, no, oh no oh no, he ruined everything, he couldn't do anything right, this was all his fault –

As if a door had been opened – or rather, broken – Lucas felt a pressure in him. Where exactly, he couldn't say, because it was the same sensation he got when he was sad, or stressed, or angry.

But there was someone there, in his thoughts –

(i̧͕̤̥t͔̙̱͈̲͇'̲̪sa̱̜̭̣͙̟b̶͍̯̮̣o͏̻͇͉̻d̺͖̫̺͓͞y̝͍ạ͕g̞͉̜͕̖o̻͕̮̭͡o̷̤̩̘̫d͔͎͓b̗̜̼͓̦ó̭̝ͅd̲̯͙̺̤̝y̩̹͎̜͉̦)̵̱̻̤
̹͙̥̣͔̹
̫̰͢)̙̻̠̺̥͎͖̀S̗͙̹̫͎̼̹U͓͟C̣H̼͇̺̖́L̲̻͖̞̲I͉͎̫͖F͍̥̙̝́E̡͖͔W̻H̵̰AͅT̺͉͇̝̥͇̳A̢GI̩͉̤͖̫̩̪FT̪̦͢(̦̙

And his lips curled up in a smile, except that wasn't him. He was ecstatic, happy, he'd finally gotten what he wanted, it was an end to that w͇̪̟̼r̦e̳̜t͙̱̠̝c̹͔̟̦h̤̭͉ḛd̳ ̯̤͕l͇̮̜̩̼i̜̝fe̜͖͔͈̗̳ ̲̥̪̫̱̹of being a thing with no true shape and he was free to do what he wanted –

(that wasn't him was it? what?)

-all the f̩ͅl͉̝e͉̫̱̠s̻̻h̥̖ ̗in͎̣̘ ̟͎̟͍̟͓ͅth͈̘ͅḛ͍ ̲̥w̦o̥͍͕͚̣̭̦r̞̗̤l͖d͍͎̜̝ was his to approach and take now, there would be no stopping him. He could be a god. His potential was u̪͉n̲̙̹̹̱l̩̥i̬̩̠͎̖̤͈m̠̮͍i̫̤̳̦t̝͔̲͚̝e͍̥̱̺̭d͍̠̪.

(that wasn't him, and Lucas tried to fight, tried to stop smiling but he couldn't move his lips, or his fingers, or anything, and the struggle was hard because he wasn't even sure what he was fighting)

"Rowan!"

N͎o̮̗th̼̤̬̤͉̱̙i͖̣̙n̖͉̦g ̱̞̭͖͇͚̻could stop him now.

And as if his – (their? Not his?) arrogance was a flare in the night sky, speaking of the devil, a presence struck him like a shockwave.

An abyss approached him, and he – both the spirits inside him and Lucas himself – thrashed in fear. This was wrong. This was something old and mad and powerful, and it had no mercy in its dark depths. It would eradicate him, obliviate his very existence from this plane until there was nothing left, not even a ghostly speck-

(the fear was contagious and Lucas feared it too)

His fear, because he could see – See – its might. But the fear of the ghosts was greater because whatever was approaching terrified them. They tried to surge to the shining figure, the one that both called to them and made them hesitate in fear.

They tried to get away, but other shadows, the ones that were more solid and not inside him, held tight to his arms like freezing shackles carved of ice and he screamed in pain as he felt the bones crack from the force holding them.

Then the abyss in the shape of a mortal descended upon him, and a hand cut from the abyss with strong fingers gripped his head. Lucas imagined his head bursting like a dropped watmel berry and struggled some more. This was his fear as well trying to get away.

This close, he saw that the absolute darkness so old and terrifying to the ghosts was also a mass of distortions itself – so dark and distorted it was hard to make out the obvious details, like someone had taken a pen and scribbled it until no specific details could be made out in the mess.

The abyss opened her mouth to speak an order that could not be ignored or refused.

"Get out."

Those words ripped out the spirits like they were just paper pages of a notebook, and Lucas choked from the impact. Maybe comparing it to pages being ripped out of a notebook wasn't the right way to phrase it – the distortions were crushed and straightened out forcibly and were gone like they had never existed. The ghosts hadn't belonged in him, had been foreign invaders, but for their grasps to be removed so forcefully in such a destructive way was agonizing for him even as the wrongs were set right once more inside him. The field of vision their presence had granted him disappeared as well, and the sudden pitch darkness as his eyes fought to regain their functionality was as disorienting as the pain.

It took a few more moments of struggling with black-spotting vision until he could bear to breathe again, and the moment he managed to get some oxygen into his lungs he began coughing, trying to spit up something.

". . . let him vomit it out," someone was saying. The same voice that had banished the spirits from inside him.

The abyssal mass of distortions shaped like a human being.

His eyesight was still a bit blurry, but overall mostly intact. He lifted his eyes, rolling his gaze towards the speaker, and saw the dark-haired woman Dawn had been speaking with before the sealing ritual failed.

She looked so normal and plain. And yet, Lucas remembered the raw fear the abyss had induced in the unnamed spirits and he wanted to cower, to run away if only his legs would listen and move-

Then a second wave of nausea hit him, and he retched up some more stomach acid. His throat burned viciously, but it was a pain on the physical plane, not like the one the ghosts had made him feel. He almost liked the sensation, because it meant he was his own again.

Almost.

"Rinse your mouth out," Dawn said from the side, handing him a bottle of water. Careful not to put his lips on the rim, he poured some into his mouth and gargled before leaning away and carefully spitting it out so it wouldn't splash. Then, because he felt empty and nauseated, slowly drank some of the water. The cold liquid trickling into an empty stomach made him shudder, but it helped clear out his throat and calm down his jumpy insides.

"What happened?"

Dawn patted his arm, as if making sure he was really there. "You were unconscious for a bit, so a Dusclops carried you back to the safe zone."

Lucas tried to sit up, alarmed, and Dawn pushed down on his shoulders. "Don't get up!"

And it was a good thing she stopped him, because just that movement made his head dizzy and vision fade slightly around the edges.

"Everything's fine," Dawn said in a hurry, while he struggled to not throw up or lose consciousness again. "The Spiritomb was, um, sealed, and they're nearly done purifying the area. We're going to be out soon."

"Really?" This wasn't a dream, was it? He pinched himself and it hurt.

Dawn saw and laughed. "Yeah, it's not. But, um, I think you need to go to the hospital after we get out."

"I think so too," he said, and his voice was raspy. "What happened?"

Eventually, Tina told Dawn she should stay behind in the safe zone, because she was getting tired.

"I promise I'll bring your friend back," she had said, and so Dawn decided to have faith and do her part in getting everything back to normal.

And Tina had kept her promise, though when Dawn first saw General carrying Lucas, every precaution flew out of her head.

"Lucas!"

Almost immediately after Dawn clapped her hands across her mouth, fearing that she might have done something.

Not that it might have made a difference. The only reason she recognized Lucas was because of his clothes. His face was smeared in what looked suspiciously like blood, and he was unconscious, Tina carrying him on her back.

"It's safe, Dawn," said Tina, and Dawn relaxed.

"Dawn?"

The person next to Tina said her name, and when she looked, she recognized the girl. "Caitlin?"

Caitlin nodded awkwardly. They knew each other by virtue of their parents, but they weren't exactly friends. Caitlin was always the ladylike one, whereas Dawn and Barry could behave but didn't really like to. At least, Dawn was better behaved than Barry, but they didn't like to stay sitting when they didn't have to. "I didn't realize you knew . . . Lucas."

"He's a friend. I didn't know he was your friend either."

She hesitated. "We just met."

Okay then. Time to change the subject from the friends of Lucas to the current state of Lucas. "Is he okay?"

It was a dumb question, Dawn realized as soon as she asked. Neither Tina nor Caitlin judged her for it.

"If we seal the spirits, he'll get better sooner," said Tina. She extended a hand towards Dawn.

Oh, right. The stone. Dawn tried to give both the keystone and the rosary back, but Tina only took the former.

"Hold on to that," she said. "I need you to come with me to seal the spirits."

"Are you sure?" Dawn asked.

Tina raised the keystone to eye level, like a jeweler assessing a precious gem up close. "Positive."

Had she done that bad of a job? Dawn winced.

"It's nothing wrong," said Tina, as if she read her mind just now. "But it's to keep the stone purified while I seal them, and to name the spirits as a Spiritomb. The entire thing won't take longer than five minutes, and I promise you'll be safe with me."

Because Tina's field of expertise wasn't purification. Dawn's wasn't, either, but if the leading expert here said so.

"Okay," she said.

Caitlin stayed behind, to look after Lucas. Dawn wondered just what happened for the other girl to be so concerned about someone she just met. Not that Caitlin was a bad person, just . . . it was curiosity.

With them and everyone else in the boundaries that Tina had reinforced one more time before taking Dawn outside its lines, they walked straight into the miasma. The beads of the rosary clinked as Dawn went over each, one by one, mouthing prayers as she clutched the stone Tina had given back to her to hold.

The mist curled around them, an invisible boundary with Dawn and Tina solidly in the radius keeping it a certain distance away, but just outside that line Dawn could see the miasma get thicker and thicker.

At last, when they were in fog so thick that it was hard to see anything other than Tina, the priestess spoke. "We're here."

She extended a hand, and Dawn put the keystone on her palm.

"When all the spirits are sealed," said Tina. "I want you to give it a name."

Dawn grimaced. "You want me to catch it?"

Tina blinked, before realizing the misunderstanding. "No. I just need you to pronounce the thing as a Spiritomb when I say so. Unless you want to catch it?"

She shook her head. She wasn't getting a Spiritomb anytime soon.

There was no ritual or revering like the other priests had done. Tina simply tossed the keystone like she was lobbing a ball, where it began to float in the middle of the ghostly fog. The Dusclops rose from her shadows and began to land blows upon the fog with its large fists.

There was the sound of something snapping, like branches or bones being broken, and the keystone began to tremble as the miasma circled around it. Not voluntarily – like water swirling down the drain, unable to resist the call of gravity – it began to seep into the keystone's crack.

The screams began again, but the Dusclops simply continued its walloping on the shades when it tried to break away. The miasma flailed angrily, trying to escape, but it didn't stop it from being sucked slowly and surely into the crack of the keystone.

When the last of the cold smoke was in the stone and the air around them clear, Tina cleared her throat.

"Creator Above," she said quietly, bloodless hands pressed together, and too late did Dawn realize that she still had Tina's rosary. "Look down upon Your Children, in Your long slumber and waking dreams. Please smile along at our joy, and shed tears for our suffering screams. Please remember us, when we become lost to time's ever-flowing stream."

The stone shook with one last, dying shriek that made the hair on the back of her neck rise, and its outline glowed white for a brief moment before it returned to looking like a normal, cracked rock with an odd shape. Tina picked it up, and then blew on it like there were a few specks of dust she wanted off.

"If a human catches you, you may have a name, but until then I tie you to that which all your kind are called, Spiritomb," she said flatly, and then looked at Dawn.

She should have asked what to say exactly. "I pronounce you Spiritomb," she said, and then her tongue moved before she could think it through. "Behave."

Her ad-libbing didn't earn disapproval from Tina. Lips twitching up in a small smile, the priestess handed the now quiet stone to her Dusclops.

"Put it back on the altar," she ordered, and the Dusclops hurried to obey.

Above, lines began to crack, as if the roof was splintering and breaking apart. Tina glanced up, and then gestured at Dawn to cover her eyes.

"It's better to not see this break," she said, and just as Dawn covered her eyes she saw the ground beneath swirl and nearly stumbled with the odd feeling of the earth slipping from under her feet. Cool, firm hands gripped her shoulder and kept her from making an ungraceful landing on her butt, but it was a close one. The sensation stopped when her eyes were fully covered and she couldn't see anything.

When Tina finally gave her the okay, it was all over.

It had all been very cool, and from what Dawn heard, no one was critically injured. They were still to be seen by professionals soon, but it looked like the worst the possessed people were suffering from was nausea, like Lucas, as well as a few physical injuries they obtained during the possession. Lucas didn't seem to remember when he hurt his ankle, just surprised to find himself unable to walk properly on it.

Dawn stuck next to him, waiting for someone to see him, and Tina hung around them, which meant that when the elderly priest came to talk with her Dawn and Lucas overheard everything.

"While we appreciate your exorcisms," said the older man, in the voice of someone who had more to add despite the 'polite' starter. "You are a Second Servant, Sister. More prudence in adhering to tradition would be better, to serve as a good role model."

Lucas blinked in confusion at that, and looked to Dawn.

"She punched people to exorcise them," Dawn whispered, a little gleeful now that it was all over.

As expected, Lucas turned flabbergasted, like he had just been punched himself. "How does that even work?"

She shrugged, although hearing that Tina was a Second Servant explained a lot. In terms of ranks among priests, that was only one lower than the First Servants, which was lower than only the Iron Queen in the Order of Sinnoh. And since there was no Iron Queen, that meant that technically, Tina was second in terms of rank alone. She probably had less influence because she didn't work in a temple and travelled around, but still.

Tina seemed completely unaffected to the chiding. "I chose the method that was time-efficient."

She wasn't rude about it, per say, just matter of fact, but it was very obvious she wasn't interested in following the conventional way. After the conversations they'd had, Dawn didn't think she was ever going to be doing something a conventional way.

"We have standardized methods and traditions for a reason-" he began.

"She's a Second Servant?" Lucas was also impressed. "I guess that explains why she was so scary."

"She's not scary." Dawn felt rather obligated to defend the priestess, who had basically saved the day and was currently being lectured on why traditions had to be followed. She couldn't – didn't – directly defend Tina herself because the priestess mostly just looked disinterested, but she also didn't want Lucas to have the wrong idea. "The priests like Tina don't sacrifice babies or have blood rituals."

Lucas looked horrified. "What?"

Here Dawn realized her mistake – letting out the part about her patron goddess. "Um, she's a servant of the Renegade."

Lucas looked at Tina, still silently listening with eyes that looked more dead than they had been through the whole ordeal, and then back at Dawn. "The Renegade has priests?"

Dawn tipped her head towards Tina. "One that's so good at exorcisms she became a Second Servant based on her skill."

"Huh," said Lucas, before he shook his head – and then swayed a little. "Oof, I shouldn't have done that. But that wasn't what I was talking about, Dawn."

Her hand had already reached for the water bottle when he swayed, so Dawn was in the midst of offering Lucas another sip of water when he said that. "What?"

"I meant," said Lucas, and he took a deep breath. "When I was – you know – possessed, I saw . . ."

He trailed off and then made a few vague hand gestures. Whatever he was trying to convey by waving his hands in front of his body, Dawn didn't quite get, and she let him know with a blank face.

He breathed out, loudly. "I – she's strong. Really strong."

Dawn nodded. She doubted many exorcists could just kick out a possessive spirit with a single punch.

Lucas was about to say more when he shut his mouth abruptly. Seeing where his eyes were, Dawn turned and found that Tina had slipped away from the older priest to come to join them.

With red eyes that didn't look as dead, now that she wasn't being told the importance of tradition, she looked over both Dawn and Lucas.

"Physically and spiritually you should be fine," she said to Dawn, and then turned to Lucas who shrank when her attention landed on him.

"Thank you for saving me!" he blurted out before she could say anything. Dawn hid a smile, because fear or not, Lucas always had his priorities straight.

Tina blinked, and then nodded.

"I'm glad I was able to help," she said, in the usual tone that didn't rise or fall very much. "But Lucas, was it?"

Lucas had learned his lesson and didn't nod, even when he was afraid. "Yes!"

"You should still see some people."

"Like therapy?"

Tina considered that. "Oh, right, that too. That, both of you might need. It was a very traumatic experience."

Dawn thought about Sekhmet being possessed, and how if she had been even a second too late –

"But I'm talking about repercussions of possession," Tina continued. "The boundaries of the living and dead are kept separate for a reason, and you were forced to be a gateway. You may notice changes in the near future, and it's best to have someone who knows the kind of things to be on the lookout for."

When Lucas and Dawn asked if Professor Rowan counted, Tina partially agreed.

"I don't know if he's an expert in that field," she said. "But someone in his position would know the right people. Technically, the priests here are also those you can seek out, but I don't know if you'll want to come back here anytime soon."

Dawn exchanged sheepish looks with Lucas, because she wasn't entirely wrong.

"Do I need to worry about future possessions?" Lucas asked. "Like, are there any still left in me?"

He couldn't quite meet Tina's eyes, so Dawn reached over to pat his hand. She was a little surprised when Lucas held on, but his fingers were cold and he was worried, so she didn't shake him off.

Tina noticed his anxiety as well. "The future isn't something I can guarantee, but you have my word, as the best exorcist in all of Sinnoh, that you are currently clear."

She said it so matter-of-fact, almost no pride in it, that Dawn wondered why it made her so resigned in her manner. Dawn didn't dare ask, out of worry that there was an unshared story.

"Lucky for us, I guess," she said instead, for both Tina and Lucas. "We had the best exorcist in Sinnoh here, and we're all safe."

She'd be sure to tell her mom, who she had called as soon as she could, and Professor Rowan, who was called after. Both had been understandably alarmed, even as Dawn rushed to reassure them that the danger was all past now. Dawn had all but hung up on her mom with the excuse of needing to alert Professor Rowan since Lucas was still woozy, and she had promised Professor Rowan that she would get back to him because Lucas was swaying. If she namedropped a Second Servant who was the best exorcist in Sinnoh, Dawn figured that they could be relieved.

Tina laughed, short and quiet, and stood up.

"Here." Dawn dug in her pocket and pulled out the rosary that she had entrusted to Dawn. It was past time to return it to its rightful owner.

Reaching out with a pale, almost bloodless hand, Tina received the rosary and stared at it in her palm for a moment, as if trying to recognize it. "Thank you."

"I feel like I should be thanking you?" It was embarrassing to be thanked for returning what was originally hers, anyways.

The priestess smiled faintly. "Take care, Dawn. Stay out of trouble if you can."

She nearly huffed. "Bye, Tina."

Even the amusement, though, couldn't last forever. By the time she got home, exhaustion was catching up on her, adrenaline long worn off. Themis was alarmed when Dawn nearly fell off her.

After reassuring her mom in person that she was fine, that she would be fine, that she was okay, and yes a Second Servant had told them she was and would be fine, Dawn was allowed to go to bed. The yawn that nearly split her face in half as she told her mom about Tina's qualifications helped argue for her case.

Freshly showered and tired, Dawn crawled into bed.

Which, of course, was why at that moment, her egg started hatching.

Half-excited and half-wanting to sob with exhaustion, Dawn kicked off her covers to resist temptation and crawled right back out of her bed.

Teams

Dawn

On Hand: Sekhmet (Luxray), Faith (Eevee), Frejya (Lopunny), Neptune (Empoleon), Themis (Golbat), Medusa (Tangrowth)

Home: Riolu (?), Bellona (Magmar)

Barry

On Hand: Champ (Torterra), Starling (Staraptor), Marcus (Heracross), Allen (Floatzel), Billie Jean (Mr. Mime), Bruce (Hitmonlee)

Home: (Murkrow), (Chatot), Camarero (Rapidash), Egg

Lucas

On Hand: Charlotte (Monferno), Arthur (Kadabra), Miranda (Clefairy), Cupid (Togetic), Sherlock (Shieldon), Alan (Porygon)

Home/Lab: Brandon (Bibarel)

AN: Hey look who's alive and posting a chapter about ghosts like she hasn't ghosted this story for years. Sorry it's so late, I just seemed to have lost interest in Pokémon, or at least in all the detailed worldbuilding I had going on, and the fact that I was trying to write a scary chapter didn't help because I'm not very good at horror. I can't even watch scary movies, I don't know what I was thinking. There were times when I considered just discontinuing / deleting / rewriting this story because time travel doesn't exist and I can't go back to strangle my younger self (is that murder or suicide), but I didn't want to give up on what took up so much of my time and efforts. I want to finish this story. It might be a little different in writing style, because I don't know if I can write like I did back when I first started, but I want to take this to the ending that I've been dreaming about for years.

It's been over two years and I don't know if anyone's still reading in 2020 but. Thanks for reading!