Today has been a long day.
Tanya exhales at the thought, trying to expend just enough energy to barely compress her bulk so she’s not at risk of knocking paintings off the walls of the hotel hallway as she trails behind her partner to their room.
Despite having been resting the entire day, she’s not really recovered any of her energy, food helped a little, but her actually Calorie dense food was in the hotel, and judging by so of the other symptoms she’s feeling it’s likely Tanya is suffering from so minor aura strain.
Irritating, and sothing a pokecare machine can't really help with, but she’s not in an insensitive energy coma, so she’ll recover.
It just ans she’ll have to avoid exerting herself too much.
Tanya slows to a stop as they get to their room and Alia slips through without a hitch, leaving the ‘mon behind her to stare at the top of the doorfra before slowly pressing herself through.
She’d not realized how much she relied on minimise until being made unable to use it, though not able to use it to make herself much smaller, she’d taken to using a mild version of the move as often as possible as both a training thod and so navigating the world is easier.
Not to ntion the fact that amplifying an already activated move is much easier than starting one whole cloth.
The large ‘mon continues slowly working her way through the door, shoving each side through one at a ti in a kind of shimmying motion until she finally almost falls into the room and steps forward, gently closing the door behind her with telekinetic force.
In the ti she was focused on getting through the door, Swellow had exited his ball on his perch near the sliding glass doors looking out to the hotspring courtyard as Alia stands by the telephone, hand hovering over the handset where it still rests in the cradle.
Surprisingly enough the hotel manager was still at his front desk, despite the chaos, and when they’d entered he told Alia that her mother had called while she was away. The man took her ssage, but it was just an instruction for Alia to call back as soon as possible.
Tanya blinks at the hesitation to pick up the handset and call, sothing the ‘mon is sure the Joy wants to do.
Slowly, and with extre thodical rigor, complicated estimatory systems get to work on the emotion based problem, carefully identifying the exact scope of the problem, then assembles a list of potential actions.
…
The ‘mon feels her stomach rumble hard enough she ripples as the earlier thought of food seemingly reminds her body that she’s starving, and the high density pokechow that ca in through mail order just a few days ago is sitting next to her bag unopened.
…
Tanya squints, continuing to work the problem as quickly as she can.
…It’s unlikely that she’ll be able to reliably render any assistance, Alia’s mother is much better suited for the task, remaining creates the assud obligation of sohow assisting, and leaving to a considerate but out of earshot distance imposes negligible risk.
Course of action decided, the ‘mon’s eyes flare purple before abruptly cutting out with a wince, followed by Tanya slowly crossing the room toward the sliding glass doors, grabbing the bag of pokechow on the way before physically pushing them open and carefully shuffling outside without a word.
She’s not sure if this is the correct action, but judging by the fact that Swellow flutters outside just behind her, coming to a rest on a nearby bench, proves that at least he agrees with her decision.
Then he keeps flying, reaching speeds she normally sees in a dive in level flight as he rockets towards the darkened woods, and Tanya recognizes the other probable reason.
Closing the glass doors, Tanya sees Alia reach across the final distance to the phone just as the ‘mon turns away and walks out to a small patch of grass near the faux hotspring.
In that quiet, the ‘mon casts her mind back to the past, once more trying to find a succinct and accurate way to explain it to soone who’s never experienced–
Rain thrashes the wooden decking in sheets as the entire ship groans in strain under the force of crashing through yet another swell.
Tanya had hoped rushing into the storm and its heavy cloud cover would obscure their convoy and prevent the enemy mages from straying too far from their own ships, allowing her group to escape.
She floats just above the deck, tracing the enemy mage by magic alone with her rifle until a flash of lightning illuminates her enemy and her artillery charge strikes dead center.
Any rational actor would have retreated, it would take both impossible strength and a suicidal madness to shadow the convoy through the storm despite constant enemy fire, burning mana bright enough to act as a beacon for other ships to follow.
Tanya knows of only one person mad enough to do this.
Another flash of lightning silhouettes an unmistakable figure, holding still against the churning sky, her eyes aglow with a searingly familiar yet invisible light of golden mana.
Tanya blinks, looks down from the sky to the gently steaming hot spring then she eases down to the grass, ripping open the top of the bag in one smooth motion before grabbing handfuls of kibble and shoving them into her mouth with chanical repetition.
She’s not being efficient with this food, she knows she’ll be wasting nutrients.
But she’s hungry, and she’s not in the mood to be maximally efficient right now.
Food enters her mouth and falls to the bottom of her stomach, but it barely feels like it’s doing anything as she continues eating.
She can't imagine explaining combat to soone who’s never experienced it in normal circumstances, but this place hasn't had a true warin living mory. Off of Hoenn there seems to have been so small regional squabbles, but nothing that lasts longer than a few months, at most a year, not a war.
It’s not just a question of what she should explain, or what she wants to explain, but what she can explain with Alia’s almost nonexistent cultural context.
But even if she manages to find a way, that once around cos to the question of what she should explain, what are the most important goals here?
Tanya breathes, considering the question carefully, and from every angle it’s clear, properly expressing the more… emotional components to her experience isn't actually all that important, but–
The crunch of food filling her ears has Tanya shift slightly where she’s resting, looking down at the half empty bag with an irritated expression.
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That was close to a week's worth of food.
From behind there’s the sound of a door sliding open, and when the ‘mon looks back she sees Alia stepping out with freshly red eyes, but her movents lack a certain heaviness as she closes the door, as if so great weight has been removed.
The Joy gives a small but genuine smile and wave before slowly walking over.
It’s quiet as she steps up beside her partner and cos to a stop, just in the corner of Tanya’s vision as she looks ahead.
“...I talked to my mom.” She says quietly. “She wasn't very happy with Team Magma, and I might have… undersold how involved the both of us were in stopping them.”
“I can see why you would do that.” Tanya responds after a mont, her dry comnt evoking a giggle.
“I wasn't even ly– massaging the truth with not knowing whatever it is you did up there.” She says in a conversational tone at a near whisper volu. “I an… I can make so guesses, but I just showed how bad I am at those.”
The soldier curses as yet another ship far below her explodes with such force she can feel the shockwave buffeting her a few seconds later.
They’d been chased out of the storm back onto open water, rain retreating to blue skies after hours of running, only to be left seemingly no better than when they started.
With nowhere else to run, Tanya was forced to call her n to the sky and et the enemy in the worst kind of engagent.
A straight fight.
The ‘mon huffs in amusent.
“No. I’ll admit, with the information you have, guessing I can see the future is honestly not a bad one. But… nonetheless incorrect.”
Her Type 97 chitters as the soldier enters a tight corkscrewing dive, rifle pointed behind her as she snaps off two bracketing shots to have the enemy break off in the chase.
Alia hums, clasping her hands at her waist in the way she always does when considering sothing that makes the Joy anxious before looking up at her partner.
“You know you don't have to explain it now right? I’ve been wondering for ages, I can wait a few more… however long it takes.”
Kurst’s half focused eyes remain locked on her in the final instant as his mage core, covered by the hand of his remaining arm, emits a blindingly bright flash, the explosion consuming three surrounding enemy mages.
Tanya hears a scream, a guttural roar of bottomless and infinite emotion, louder than the blast and the burning ammo from the sinking dreadnought below
She doesn't think as she reaches for the Type 95.
“Thank you for the courtesy Alia.” Tanya hums, looking back down at the human for a mont before turning back to face forward. “But I believe I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
The ‘mon takes a breath, and slowly blinks as she feels her bulk pressing in on her, the weight and presence of her own mass feeling almost like it’s holding her mind down with it, the persistent gnaw of hunger only adding to the effect.
“I–”
Molten gold flows through her body like a flood, power thick enough she’s choking on it.
Her arms twitch and shake as if she’s trying to move with puppet strings, adjusting and shifting her movents as shot after shot illuminates the sky.
“From the mont I first hatched. I have had–”
The fanatic dodges her shots as so small part of the soldier screams and yet another ship burns.
“I have had mories from before that point.” She says calmly, eyes locked to so distant point far beyond the horizon. “That’s how I have more lived experiences than my age should allow.”
The quiet after her statent judges her as it sits there, growing ever heavier as it sits for ten long seconds.
“Oh… Okay. Uh. Wow. How is– Uh…” Alia says simply, sounding almost confused by the information. “Do you want… I dunno. Help? If you rember any landmarks we might be able to track down where you… lived…”
The befuddled but earnest offer has Tanya huff out a laugh despite herself.
“Ah, thank you. But that’s… impossible I believe.” She trails off, mories almost falling over themselves as they press into her mind’s eye on fast forward. “There were no pokemon, barely even legends for sothing like them, just humans and… almost unthinking creatures I don't think is even possible for to describe to you.”
Alia opens her mouth several tis over a period of five seconds, sotis she manages to get the first part of a syllable out before she closes her mouth again, so many emotions and thoughts running across her face it’s just a jumbled ss of incoherent movent.
“...oh.” She says eventually, looking up at the ‘mon before looking back ahead. “I don't want you to answer if you don't want to, but… how old were you when you…”
The devoted servant to the LORD continues chasing the idolatrous heretic across the sky, screaming praise on high to bless her every movent and action as sanctified to the LORD’s holy purpose.
It’s just her and the heretic now, the ships that brought them here have sunk beneath the waves, her acolytes and the heretic’s wretched horde have all shown their faith to the LORD lacking. The storm has passed, just as it did in The Word and just as it will return on the final day.
GOD’s golden light shines bright enough to rival the sun as she stabs at the heretic with her bayonet with a snarl. As her golden blade ets nothing but air she jukes to the side just in ti to turn a lethal return into a glancing blow.
Two pairs of golden eyes et, and sowhere deep within the soldier an ever smaller fraction of her continues to screa–
“There was… a war.” Tanya says slowly, instead of answering the question. “A war you cannot imagine. Eighty percent of all n of military age in the country were forced to join and fight, but for people with… certain aptitudes or specialist skills almost one hundred percent were ordered to fight, regardless of age or gender.”
Tanya takes a breath, forcing her eyes to focus on the world around her as–
Explosions rip at the servant’s clothes and sear her flesh as glorious reward for serving the LORD’s purpose, dealing every blow back to the heretic hundredfold.
She’d lost her rifle at so point but she doesn't need it, drawing on every ounce of the skill gifted to her by the LORD she closes the gap and tries to stab the devious heretical foe once again.
They grapple, tumbling in the sky as formulas clash and squabble for control while limbs struggle against the other.
Tanya blinks as she feels Alia place a hand against her side, and the ‘mon rembers the actual question the girl asked.
Such a simple question with no clear answer.
The ‘mon takes a slow breath, forcing her mind to look through her past with an analytical lens.
Purely by chronological mory she’s sowhere in her fifties, but…
…She’s not. She’s not that middle aged salaryman, she hasn't been for a long ti. She’s a closer match to the soldier but she’s not even really Tanya anymore, she died too.
She’s not fifty, she’s not thirty seven, she’s not fifteen, she’s not one, she’s…
Coming to a vague awareness, Tanya sluggishly realizes there’s a pair of hands wrapped around her throat.
An explosion, the fanatic’s own mage orb detonating after being pushed far past its limits for too long, thrown just far enough away not to kill and leaving the both of them falling through the air, struggling for control of the Type 95.
The contest seems to have sowhat disrupted the cursed thing’s hold on her, but she can feel how much it’s already affected her, and she can feel it calling for her, offering the strength to crush this heretic in her feeble attempt to defeat her, strength to make it back to land, strength to never be beaten again, to find victory after victory, eternal glory in the na of the LOR–
Tanya rembers Visha’s face the instant before she hit the water.
There’snot even a mont of hesitation as she wraps her own hands around the fanatic’s throat with an animalistic snarl as the ocean rushes up to et th–
“I don't know.” Tanya whispers, voice rough before clearing her throat with a cough. “I don't know how old I was. I had… the closest analog was a psychic aptitude, so I joined the when I was nine and first saw combat two years later. I… died several years after that, but I can't figure out how old I was at the ti.”
Alia says nothing, seeming frozen in place for a few long seconds before jolting to motion and throwing her arms around as much of Tanya’s bulk as she can manage and squeezing hard enough her arms are swallowed up.
“...I’m sorry.”
Tanya says nothing, but finds herself leaning toward her partner as she stares out into empty space for long enough that the setting sun turns to night and the air goes cold.
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