Scarlets point of view:
I watched the chaos continue to unfold for another minute as all the elders were shouting over each other and I felt my patience thinning with their actions.
This was getting us nowhere.
"Vulcan."
He didn't need any other instruction. He drew in a deep breath, and then he roared.
The sound wasn't painfully loud, but it carried weight—authority and power wrapped into one. Every voice in the chamber died instantly. Elder Virell's Dragonairs went still. Elder Roan actually jumped in his seat. Even Kaizen, my own son, flinched.
"Thank you, Vulcan," I said, smoothing my robes. "Now. Everyone, please. Let's all talk like the adults we are. One at a time."
The silence held. Good.
Kaizen rose to his feet, his hands braced against the table. I could see the restraint in every line of his body—the effort it took not to demand everything at once. But he kept his voice level when he spoke.
"Mother. Where is she? Is she okay? Is she hurt?" His jaw tightened. "Is that why you were so angry earlier?"
Before I could respond, Vulcan let out a low huff.
"Kid, relax," he rumbled. "Your sister is fine. She has become quite strong over the years too, from what we heard her say. So sit down and let your mother talk."
Kaizen stared at Vulcan for a long moment. Then, slowly, he sank back into his chair. His wife reached over and took his hand, her fingers lacing through his. He didn't let go.
Elder Thyros cleared his throat. He had mopped up the spilled water and regained his composure, though his eyes remained sharp with curiosity.
"Well," he said carefully, "before we all go into pandemonium once more, what have you learned, Lady Silver?"
I leaned back in my chair, letting the silence stretch just long enough to ensure I had everyone's full attention.
"Yua has been in the Kanto region this entire time," I began. "She changed her name and kept a low profile—avoided any attention that might lead back to us. She built a quiet life for herself." I paused, letting that sink in. "And she has grown strong. Very strong."
Elder Quorin's eyebrows rose.
"She has six Pokémon," I continued. "Five of them are Pseudo King-ranked. And two of those are on the cusp of becoming King Rank." I let the words settle over the table. "For a trainer without clan backing—without any of the resources we provide—that is extraordinary feat few can manage."
Elder Virell nodded slowly, her Dragonairs relaxing. "She always had potential," she said quietly. "Even as a child, I saw it. I am glad she found a way to cultivate it on her own."
Elder Isolde pressed a hand to her chest, her eyes bright. "Alive and stronger than ever. That is more than I dared to hope for."
Elder Roan actually smiled—a rare sight. "Pseudo King-ranked. On her own. The girl has done well for herself."
Kaizen's grip on his wife's hand tightened, but he stayed seated. I could see the relief washing over his face, softening the sharp edges of his worry.
Elder Thyros steepled his fingers. "So she is alive. She is strong. And she was capable of avoiding our notice for a decade." He tilted his head. "But I have to ask, Lady Scarlet—why has she called home now? Has she become homesick after all this time? Or has something else happened?"
I felt the smile break across my face before I could stop it. Beside me, Vulcan's tail swished once, twice, and I could feel his own joy radiating off him in waves.
"Well," I said, and I couldn't keep the pride out of my voice even if I tried, "unlike the rest of my children, she gave me a grandchild."
The silence that followed was almost absolute.
Then Coral shot up from her chair so fast that it nearly toppled backward. Her blue hair bounced as she spun to face her husband, her hands clasped under her chin and her eyes sparkling with unrestrained delight.
"I am an aunt!" she squealed, practically vibrating with excitement. "Baby, I am an aunt! Do you hear me? We have a nephew!"
Kaizen stared at her, then at me, then back at her. His mouth opened and closed twice before any sound came out.
"I'm..." He swallowed hard. "I'm an uncle?"
"Yes, you are," I said, my smile widening.
For a moment, Kaizen looked almost dazed—like the world had shifted beneath his feet and he hadn't quite found his balance yet. Then something changed in his expression. His eyes darkened, his jaw tightened and I watched as realization settled over him like a cold front moving in. It seems that he connected the dots faster than I thought.
His aura leaked out first—just a trickle, then his aura became flood. Beside him, Elder Thyros went rigid, and I saw his own aura rise to meet it. The walls of the council chamber groaned and hairline cracks were spreading across the ancient stone like spiderwebs.
"Where is he?" Kaizen's voice had gone soft. Dangerously soft. The kind of soft that preceded violence. "Where is the bastard who touched my baby sister?"
"Kaizen." I kept my voice calm, level. "Calm down. You as too, Thyros."
Neither of them moved. The cracks in the walls continued deepened.
I rose from my chair, and Vulcan rose with me. "The man is no longer part of her life. She is safe, and she is not hurt. I will explain what happened, but you need to sit down and listen."
The silence stretched for three heartbeats. Then Kaizen's aura receded, though his hands remained clenched into fists at his sides. Elder Thyros followed suit, though his expression remained thunderous.
Kaizen sat. Slowly and reluctantly.
I took a breath and began.
"The sperm donor name is Bastien Toise. He is from one of the starter families in Kanto." I let the name hang in the air, watching the elders' faces shift with recognition and distaste. "He courted Yua, promised her marriage, and got her pregnant. Then, after she gave birth to my grandbaby, he sent a mutual friend to deliver the news that he would not be claiming the child and that he had to marry someone else. Someone from a strong clan and he could not marry her for the betterment of his family."
Elder Isolde's gentle face transformed. Her eyes turned hard as stone, and beside her, her Chansey's normally cheerful expression darkened into something almost threatening. The little pink Pokémon's fists clenched at its sides.
"That creature," Elder Isolde said, her voice trembling with barely contained fury, "used your daughter and then abandoned her and her newborn child?"
"Yes," I said simply.
Elder Roan's perpetual muttering stopped. His hands gripped the arms of his chair so tightly that his knuckles went white. Elder Virell's Dragonairs hissed and roared in anger, their bodies coiling into striking positions. Even Elder Quorin—the most controlled man I had ever known—had gone rigid, his military composure replaced by something far more volatile.
"The Toise family," Elder Quorin said slowly, each word measured and cold. "They think they can treat a Silver this way and face no consequences?"
"I said relax," I commanded, my voice carrying the weight of authority I had earned over decades. "All of you."
The room fell silent, though the anger remained palpable—a living thing coiled in the air between us.
I held each of their gazes in turn. "I understand your fury. Believe me, I felt it too. But this is not all bad news." I let my expression soften, let the warmth return to my voice. "Remember—our family has a new addition. A baby boy. And from what Yua tells me, he is extraordinary."
Elder Virell nodded slowly, her Dragonairs settling back into calm coils around her ankles. "You are right, Lady Scarlet. Our joy should not be overshadowed by that man's misdeeds."
Elder Quorin straightened in his chair, his military bearing returning. "We can deal with the Toise family later. Right now, I want to know about the new addition to our family."
Elder Isolde nodded eagerly, her earlier fury replaced by maternal curiosity. Elder Virell leaned forward with interest. Even Coral, still holding Kaizen's hand, had her full attention fixed on me.
I chuckled at their eagerness. "Calm down, ladies. I will tell you everything I have learned about my grandbaby."
The room went quiet.
"Well," I began, unable to keep the pride from my voice, "his name is Orion Silver. And as of right now, he is a year and a half old."
I reached into my robes and pulled out my Pokegear. "Takeda," I called, and my butler appeared in the doorway almost instantly. "Take this and connect it to the screens. I want everyone to see."
Takeda accepted the device with a bow. "Yes, Mistress. It will be done right away."
He moved to the wall interface and worked with quick, efficient movements. A moment later, the dark screens flickered to life, and the images Yua had sent me appeared before the entire council.
The first image filled the largest screen—Orion sitting on the carpet in his dark Litleo onesie, the little ears on the hood framing his face perfectly. Both chubby hands were wrapped around his Pyroar plush like it was the most precious treasure in the world, his red eyes wide and bright and so genuinely delighted that the image practically glowed. His black hair with those purple streaks was slightly messy, sticking up in a few places, and his tiny mouth was open in the biggest smile his little face could manage.
(Image here)
The second image appeared beside it—almost the same setting, same onesie, same Pyroar plush, but this time he had both hands raised up like tiny little paws, his mouth open wide in what I could only describe as his attempt at a roar. He looked so deadly serious about it that it was almost painful how adorable he was.
(Image here)
The third image joined the others—Orion in his Gyarados onesie, the blue hood framing his face, holding both his Dratini and Gabite plushies with that same intense red-eyed focus, his little mouth open in pure excitement.
(Image here)
The women in the room lost their composure entirely.
Coral let out a sound that was somewhere between a squeal and a gasp. "Oh, he is precious!"
Elder Isolde pressed both hands to her heart, her eyes glistening. "Look at those cheeks. Those tiny little cheeks."
Elder Virell, usually so composed, actually leaned forward in her chair. "The way he holds that Pyroar plush. So fiercely."
I found myself nodding along with them, completely unashamed. "He is the cutest baby I have ever seen," I declared. "The absolute cutest."
Elder Roan, who had been staring at the screens with an unreadable expression, finally spoke. His voice was gruff, almost reluctant. "While he is undeniably adorable—"
The other men around the table chuckled. Elder Roan rarely admitted to finding anything cute, but everyone knew his weakness. He loved cute Pokémon and small children. They were the only things that could make him leave his laboratory willingly. When he needed rest, we simply sent in his grandchildren to pull him away from his work. Once they had him, we would have a Butterfree use Sleep Powder on him. We had used the technique so many times that we had started calling it the Idiot Proof Sleep Protocol.
I pushed aside that pleasant memory and continued listening.
"He has your eyes, Scarlet," Elder Roan continued. "I know you must be happy about that. And his hair—I have never seen black and purple mixed together in our family before. By normal standards, he would be considered a shiny, since our entire family is known for our red hair."
The other elders laughed. Elder Quorin shook his head. "Only you would describe a human being in Pokémon terms, Roan."
Elder Roan grumbled under his breath, crossing his arms like a petulant child. "It was a perfectly valid comparison."
I smiled and shook my head. "His looks are not even the tip of the iceberg. Being a shiny—as Roan puts it—is not the only thing that makes him extraordinary."
Elder Roan threw his hands up in exasperation. "Please, Scarlet, do not join in. They already have enough ammunition to mess with me as it is."
I waved a dismissive hand. "Putting Elder Roan's embarrassment aside—"
He groaned loudly. "I am too old for this."
Everyone chuckled at his suffering, but I stopped laughing and turned my attention to Elder Isolde.
"Elder Isolde," I said, my voice serious now. "Tell me. What is the normal time frame for a baby to say their first words?"
Elder Isolde tilted her head, clearly curious about why I was asking. "The usual mark for a baby to speak their first words is around a year and a half old. That is the normal mark." She paused, her eyes searching my face. "May I ask why you wanted to know?"
I felt the smile spread across my face, smug and satisfied. "Well, you see, my grandbaby decided that waiting that long was far too late for him. He said 'mama' on his first birthday."
Elder Isolde's jaw dropped. Her Chansey's jaw dropped right along with her. Across the table, Elder Virell's eyes went wide, and Elder Quorin actually straightened in his chair. Kaizen gripped his wife's hand tighter, and Coral let out a small, breathless sound of disbelief.
I decided to dig the nail a little deeper. "And right now, at only a year and a half old, he is already capable of speaking in broken sentences. He misses a word here and there, but he communicates his thoughts clearly."
Elder Isolde pressed a hand to her chest. Her Chansey wobbled on its feet, looking like it might faint at any moment. The healer herself looked equally unsteady.
Elder Thyros leaned forward, his eyes sharp with realization. "Lady Scarlet, if his cognitive growth is anything to go by, then the child may have enormous potential as a psychic. Our family has not produced a psychic in many generations." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "The last psychic we had was the founder of our family."
The chamber erupted into murmurs. Elder Virell exchanged glances with Elder Roan. Elder Quorin's expression shifted into something calculating.
"I never thought about that," Elder Roan admitted. "Our family has always focused on aura talents and elementals with fire affinity. We rarely consider psychic potential."
I held up a hand, and the murmuring died down. "That is not even one of the most surprising things I learned about my grandson."
Every eye in the room fixed on me with renewed interest.
"The second most shocking thing," I continued, "is that he experienced a calling the first time he saw a Pyroar. He looked at the image and knew, without being told, that Pyroar are strong and loyal. He has a very strong connection to our family's Pokémon." I glanced at Elder Virell. "And by the looks of things, he also has a deep liking for dragon-type Pokémon."
Elder Virell's Dragonairs raised their heads, their eyes gleaming. The Breeding Overseer herself smiled—a genuine, warm expression that I rarely saw from her.
The room buzzed with excitement. Voices overlapped as the elders processed what I had just revealed. Even Vulcan let out a low, pleased rumble beside me.
This was exactly the type of reaction I had been hoping for, and I had not even revealed the most shocking part.
"Relax," I said, holding up my hand. "All of you. I have not even revealed the most shocking part yet, and you are already acting like this."
Everyone froze. Then, slowly, they turned to look at me with expressions ranging from disbelief to genuine confusion.
"What do you mean?" Elder Quorin asked, his voice uncharacteristically strained. "Everything you have said so far has been shocking enough as it is. What else could possibly compete with that?"
I smiled, enjoying this far more than I probably should. "Yua showed him a movie about Lucario recently. You know how those movies show impressionable children how to meditate properly. The League wanted to bring out the aura or physic potential of those who had such talents." I paused, letting the anticipation build. "Well, my grandson decided that Lucario looked cool. And for the past four months, he has been meditating for an entire hour after Yua puts him to sleep. She would have never known about it if she did not have a hidden camera in hidden in his crib."
The room went absolutely ballistic.
Elder Isolde's Chansey did faint this time, collapsing onto the floor in a dead faint. Elder Isolde herself looked like she might follow suit. Elder Virell's Dragonairs began hissing excitedly, their bodies weaving back and forth. Elder Roan stood up from his chair so fast that it toppled backward. Elder Quorin actually swore under his breath.
Kaizen's mouth hung open. Coral was shaking her husband's arm, saying something I could not hear over the noise. Even Elder Thyros, always the most composed of the elders, had gone pale with shock.
"He is a year and a half old," Elder Roan said, his voice rising. "A year and a half! I have trained children for decades, and I have never heard of such focus in one so young!"
"If all of this is true," Elder Virell said, her voice cutting through the chaos, "then he needs to be in this estate. He needs our protection. He needs our resources. He needs everything we can give him to nurture this potential."
Elder Quorin nodded sharply. "We cannot let such talent develop without proper guidance. The child could be something unprecedented."
"He should have access to our best training facilities," Elder Thyros added. "And our best tutors. And—"
"Enough," I said, and the room fell silent. "I have already made arrangements. He will be coming here once he turns two years old. That gives us ten months to prepare the estate for the return of my daughter and my grandchild." I looked around the table, meeting each elder's gaze in turn. "We also need to plan how we will train him and establish possible milestones for his development. This child is extraordinary, and we will treat him as such."
The elders nodded, and the discussion shifted. Voices overlapped as ideas were exchanged, strategies formed, and plans began to take shape. Vulcan settled beside me, his warmth a steady comfort as the council chamber filled with the sound of our family preparing for the future.
We would just have to wait for ten months. Then my grandbaby would be home.