The introductions to Sunny’s father were made awkward by the fidgeting and unease displayed by the familial pair. There wasn’t, to my eyes, any bitterness, but the lack of familiarity spoke of an alienation between them which neither knew how to deal with.

  Baltazar and Aria excused themselves soon enough. They had kept to themselves since their talk a few days ago, whether because they were catching up with each other or because they didn’t want to involve the “youngsters” in their plans any more than necessary, I didn’t know. The exception was Aria’s mentoring of Sunny that the former came into with a Wailord of enthusiasm which the latter, though slowly at first, soon reciprocated in its entirety. When Aria wasn’t with Baltazar, she was surely with Sunny, either in practical battles or exercises, or deep in theoretical discussions. I was glad Sunny was recovering her spirit. Even if we did part ways, knowing she would still be training made the world a little brighter. So, when Aria left, it was with a promise to continue their lessons whenever they were free.

  “There’s some good people around you,” said Trim, which was the name of Sunny’s father.

  “There are,” she agreed.

  “And it’s good to see you again, Jade. You’ve been making a name for yourself, I hear. You’re staying up in Caprice these days?”

  “That’s where I’m based, but I’ve been travelling the last few weeks, hopefully with Quentin’s help I can convince my agency to let me continue a little longer. If it was up to them, I think they’d just send me by boat everywhere.”

  “We’ll have to see about that,” said Quentin. “They’re not too happy with you right now.”

  “They’re never happy, but you know I’m right in this case, only being a trainer superficially isn’t going to do anything for my reputation in the long run.”

  “Are you all participating in the festival?” asked Trim.

  “We are,” replied Sunny. “We should sign up now, actually, before they close registration.”

  “Let’s go to the Pokémon Centre, then,” said Trim. “You’re cutting it close, leaving it to the last day.”

  “That’s how trainers are,” said Darren. “We never get anywhere early.”

  “Which is why I’ll bet you fifty Pokédollars the queue to sign up will be over an hour long,” said Luca. There were no takers on her bet. The glum prospect of standing in line for ages was a certainty which was soon confirmed as we came to our destination.

  “I’ve never seen Silverwind so full,” remarked Trim. “Our festival is usually overlooked in favour of the larger towns. It’s great, in a way, but I think we’re a bit unprepared.”

  “Yeah, the storm over Popplio really changed the flow of the circuit,” agreed Sunny.

  The wait was as dull as expected. We took turns holding our place, freeing the ones not on duty to wander around the village. There wasn’t a whole lot to look at, the houses were cute and had similar traits to the farmhouse at home, even if they were smaller. It wasn’t quite as packed as my initial impressions led me to believe. It was full of people, but none stayed in the village for long, preferring to move to the campsites, or the tournament grounds as soon as possible. The festival mainly took place in the grasslands on the way to the Hoppip river to the west.

  I walked around with Sunny, cuddling Flaaffy and being lightly strangled by an excited Comfey. She was restless since her matches on the waterbus and seemed keen to participate in more. She was as adamant as ever on not directly inflicting damage, however. In the last couple of fights, I’d encouraged her to use simple moves like Wrap or Bind with no success.

  “I’ll be staying at home with Dad during the festival,” said Sunny.

  “Makes sense,” I said.

  “We have a guest room, if you want to stay over too. It’ll just be us, I don’t think we can fit another person.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you, why the surprise,” she said.

  “I don’t know, I thought you’d invite Darren.”

  “He’s a boy, he can manage outside. Or maybe he can take the couch if he chooses. It’s small though. Either way, you’re taking the bed, unless you don’t want it.”

  “I do, sounds nice.”

  “Great, I’ll tell Dad.”

  We lapsed back into silence. Dewpider was on Sunny’s head, as she was accustomed to having him lately. His head was on a swivel inside the bubble. All the noise and the people and the general lack of dense forestry had him nervous. Sunny reached up to pet him, scratching his hard shell.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Did you give him a name?” I asked.

  “He likes Dewey, isn’t that right?”

  Dewey bobbed his head in agreement.

  “Hi Dewey,” I said. “Is he going to fight in the tournament?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see,” said Sunny with a grin.

  We returned to the queue to let Luca and Jade go explore some. Seventy-four minutes later, we were finally signing our names on our entry forms and a couple after that, we were free.

  “So, Calla is staying with us,” said Sunny. Her father nodded, and added:

  “And someone can take the couch, but it’ll be pretty cramped.”

  “I’ll be going to Grandma’s now,” said Jade. “There should be one spare bed there too, you can fight over it, and the rest of you are welcome to put your sleeping-bags on the floor.”

  Accommodation plans sorted, we split ways, Sunny, her father, and I going to his house and the others following Jade.

  Trim’s house was some ways outside the village – no more than a ten-minute walk, but more than enough for it to be secluded in a grove and isolated from the nearby urbanity. It was a cottage with a red door, and when it opened, it gave way to a dim hallway absolutely cluttered with ceramics. Bowls, plates, and mugs were in abundance, but the majority were figurines of Pokémon, of all species and sizes. It wasn’t just the hallway, either. It was soon apparent, every room, from the kitchen to the bedrooms, had as many crammed inside as could possibly fit. I crouched beside a Leafeon, big enough to be almost life-sized. The leaf coming out of its forehead floated almost weightlessly as it licked a paw. The detail on its ears and tail was incredible, with a crisp texture, and cuts giving it an organic feel.

  “Now you know why we can’t fit more of you in here,” said Trim. “There’s barely enough room to walk around, I should have cleaned when I knew you were coming.”

  “These are beautiful,” I said, ignoring the note of self-deprecation in his tone. “Do you make them?”

  “I do. I’ve got a kiln out back, and a stall in the festival tomorrow. Feel free to drop by if you have time.”

  “I will, if I have time. Can I ask a favour?”

  “Go ahead, anything.”

  “Would you mind if I drew some of these?” I asked, then clarified: “I like drawing.”

  “Not at all, I’d be delighted. You can use the desk in the workshop, if you want. It’s got the best lighting you’ll find in the house. I’ll get the dinner going, I can’t promise much, but it should fill you up. Do you need anything, Sunny?”

  “I’m okay, Dad. I’ll bring my stuff to my room and go help you with dinner.”

  If the rest of the house was cluttered, the workshop was a different dimension. A maze of clay in different states of wet, drying, and baked. Some painted, others in the process, and many, many others yet unstained. A section of the desk was the only flat surface in the room. The sun fell through the window illuminating the clear spot. I pulled out the chair and set a sculpture of a Mega Absol, my chosen subject, in the ray of light. Comfey, ever willing to pose for me, bundled herself around the feet, making it seem it was standing in a field of enormous flowers.

  Before I put a pencil to paper, I flicked through my notebook. I was building up quite a record, I fancied. A Victreebel Baltazar had fought off in the Greenforest that I’d drawn from memory, the cruel Hydreigon, Volcarona and the rest of Elaine’s Pokémon, of course, a Togekiss, the first flying-type I’d ever drawn, but even with my fear, I had to admit she was a stunning Pokémon, Urshifu and Primarina, and many more. And there, to the utmost of my ability, Meloetta in both her Aria and her Pirouette Formes. They were my best drawings to date. I’d strived to capture the dignity of Meloetta, and while I couldn’t claim to have succeeded, I wasn’t humble enough to say I was too far off. Turning to a new page, I focused on my current project.

  My pencil danced over the page, etching the art before me into a two-dimensional version. Sunny’s father was crazy talented, the way he could make a sculpture look so real. I didn’t feel like I was drawing a statue, and more than once, caught myself hoping Absol would hold the pose a little longer. Time passed quickly, and before I realised it, I was being called for dinner.

  We ate pasta, with some kind of cheesy sauce. As promised, it was simple, but filling. All the while, I grilled Trim about his work. Clay sculpting wasn’t something I knew much about, as most of my artistic endeavours were limited to paper, but it wasn’t that I had no interest, simply that I had no one to teach me. Faced with a wealth of knowledge and talent, I couldn’t not leave Trim’s brain unpicked, no matter how much Sunny was getting embarrassed by her friend and father suddenly geeking out about their hobbies. I exaggerate. Not that she wasn’t a little embarrassed, but she was also listening attentively.

  Trim explained his process, the different kinds of clay he used (there was more than one, who knew?), the glazes and their finishes, how to create all sorts of textures on a piece, why you shouldn’t make things too thick or thin, and how you might get away with doing so if really needed in a way that the piece wouldn’t shatter in the kiln, and so on. From a man I’d taken to be rather shy, he sure could talk about clay for hours.

  Later, he showed me the kiln, a massive, rectangular oven made of steel and heat-resistant bricks that could reach temperatures in the thousands of degrees.

  “If you’d like, you can work on a piece for yourself while you’re here. I know we’ll both be busy during the festival, but I’m sure we’ll find the time,” said Trim.

  “Can I?” I said, delight bubbling in my voice. He assured me I could and my mind immediately went to choosing what Pokémon to sculpt.

  “Do you have a stall in every Silverwind festival?” asked Sunny.

  “I do,” said Trim. “Business isn’t usually great, like I said, our festivals tend to be on the smaller side and people don’t come here to by pottery, but who knows, this year could be different. At the very least, there are a lot more potential customers.”

  We turned in early that night. We wanted to get plenty of rest before the first round of the tournament. My room was small and so was my bed. The blankets were a little itchy, and the mattress was old. With all that, there was something about the place that reminded me of home, and it wasn’t difficult to fall into a deep sleep.