The Price of Steel
Time was a finite resource on the rooftop of the Lumiose Stadium. Count Victor D'Ashef, with his Reuniclus floating protectively by his side, represented the reprieve Asher needed, but also the ultimate authority of his cage. Gardevoir's Light Screen flickered gently, dampening the city noise.
"One hour, Asher. That's all I've bought you against your mother," repeated Count Victor, his voice low and patient. He adjusted his glasses. "Now, enlighten me. Why the risk with the Ghost types? Elodie fears for our reputation. I fear something deeper. Tell me what you have awakened in the shadows of Kalos with your clandestine battles."
Asher knew a half-truth wouldn't suffice. He had to give the Count something he could politically manipulate.
"Mother is wrong if she thinks this is a whim. My Ghost team is not a disgrace; it is a necessity," Asher began, his voice turning serious, stripped of the melodic tone of his artistic career.
"Father, you know me as the D'Ashef heir, a Steel and Psychic specialist. But there is a truth only I know, and I'm going to give it to you now, because this touches the heart of the power you, and my mother, wish to control."
Count Victor listened, his eyes fixed on the young man. His Reuniclus remained motionless, observing without emitting any signal.
"My first official Poké Ball was given to me at age ten. It was a gift from the two of you, designed to be perfect. It was a Beldum. A Psychic and Steel type. The symbol of our family union: my mother's Steel and Tileo's lineage, your Psychic and Ástrid's lineage."
Asher continued, his gaze fixed on the distance, reliving the moment of his childhood loneliness.
"You wanted that Beldum to be the beginning of my destiny. I tried to love it, Father. I swear I did. But there was no resonance. Looking at it, I didn't see a Pokémon; I saw the weight of a legacy that wasn't mine."
"And it was at age eight," Asher continued, without Victor interrupting him, despite the evident pain in his voice, "while feeling alienated from my own life, that I ran away to the Mansion's underground tunnels."
"I felt lost. I felt, literally, like a ghost in that huge house, not knowing where my heart belonged. It was a total darkness, the kind of darkness that is not just the absence of light, but the absence of purpose."
He pointed to Gardevoir and Chandelure, floating nearby.
"And it was there, in that darkness, that I found it. It wasn't a strong Pokémon. It was a small Litwick, feeding on the energy of the old stones. It was alone, its small violet flame flickering weakly. It wasn't the kind of creature the Kalos nobility considers worthy."
Asher smiled with that rare, genuine happiness.
"When I reached out my hand, the little Litwick wasn't scared. It looked at me with its large yellow eyes, and I felt... something. I felt that I wasn't alone. I was just one lost soul who had found another lost soul in the wrong place. I can't explain it, Father, but there was an instantaneous resonance, stronger than any family bond I've felt in this life. It was happiness. Pure and simple."
Count Victor maintained his composure. He didn't blink. He let his son finish confessing the secret that he, with his Psychic abilities and the help of his Reuniclus, had detected almost a decade ago: not just the presence of the Ghost type, but the peculiar and alien essence in his adoptive son's soul. Victor had remained silent all this time, keeping the secret of the "Ghost of Time" inhabiting his adoptive son's body.
"The resonance you describe, Asher, is the basis of every successful Trainer. I don't blame you for following it," Victor said, conveniently omitting the detail of his prior knowledge. His silence was the real show of trust. "But that doesn't excuse the risk."
"The Ghost Night battles are the only arena where the nobility can't stick their noses in, where I can use the tactics of my other world. And that's where I've learned something you and my mother need to know if you're going to use my talent as a political lever."
Asher quickly exposed the evidence: the theft of the Sapphire Mega Rings from a D'Ashef shipment, and the leak of Psychic information from Ástrid's gym.
"The Elite Cup is a prison of gold, Father. A place where Elodie and Champion Dianta can control me. But if I choose that path, all my information from the shadows dies."
Asher stepped closer, his voice becoming that of a negotiator:
"What I've learned in my Ghost battles can serve as an invaluable asset to you. I can track the origin of these information leaks. But I can't do it with a Metagross and a Delphox. I need my Chandelure."
Count Victor raised a hand, stopping him. His expression, finally, softened into something that resembled a proud smile.
"Your mother and I have different methods of control, Asher. Hers is the Steel of repression. Mine is the Psychic of strategy."
Victor stepped closer.
"Look, your mother won't give in. The Ghost scandal in the public sphere is a poison that would weaken the family just before your marriage to the Champion. Therefore, you must accept the family condition, but with a nuance."
"What is the nuance?"
"Not the Elite Cup. It's too risky and public. You must participate in the Santalune Conference—the Kalos League. You will prove to the world that the D'Ashef Heir is fulfilling his traditional duty as a Trainer."
Victor looked deeply into his son's violet eyes.
"In the Tournament, you will use only Pokémon of the House: Gardevoir, Metagross, Delphox, and others your mother approves. Under no circumstances will you use your Ghosts in public. But, if you want to continue your secret life, your music, and your nocturnal battles in the shadow... you can do it. I will give you the logistical support and the silence you need to continue being the Ghost. I will give you a perfect alibi so your mother doesn't suspect."
Victor patted his shoulder, a rare display of affection.
"Your mother will not touch your Chandelure. He is your resonance. But you are my son, and you have to prove to the world that you are worthy of bearing our name. Use your Ghost team to find those thieves. Use your music to distract. And use your official team to win the Santalune Conference."
Asher weighed the agreement. It was a cage, but with his father's tacit permission to remain himself. A public sacrifice for private freedom.
"I accept, Father. But I must leave."
Victor nodded.
"I'll cover for you. Now, go. Your mother must have already detected the truce and will be on her way."
Victor turned to leave. As he reached the edge of the rooftop, where the shadow of Reuniclus enveloped him, he paused for a moment. A smile escaped him, a fleeting expression of genuine pride. Not only had he saved his son, but he had forged a powerful and cunning ally right under his wife's nose.
"By the way, Asher. The story of the Litwick... it is very melodious. Use it in your next song. The people of Kalos love romantic Ghost types," Victor said, and with a nod to Gardevoir, he used his Psychic Pokémon's power to disappear before Elodie's Scizor could appear on the horizon.
Asher was left alone, feeling the adrenaline of the escape. Count Victor D'Ashef had played his hand. Now, Asher had to play his.