Earlier that day...
After leaving the Pragengrad Teleportation hub, Joe's Oranguru teleported the Lindenberg family up to the high gates of the royal castle. Morning mist still clung to the lower courtyards and curled like sleeping Dratini around the polished marble railings and stone dragon heads. Somewhere down below, the river gleamed faintly like an unsheathed sword. It was quiet here—high above the city, in a place built to remind everyone of their long and illustrious history.
A shadow, quick as a jet flew high across the sky.
Jake squinted his eyes, his breath stopped.
"Mom," he whispered, "did you see that—?"
Eva put a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"We'll talk about it later, sweetheart. For now, remember what we said. We keep all our questions back in our heads and then we discuss them when this is over."
The young boy nodded, eyes still wide.
As they stepped out, their shoes met ancient stone softened by centuries of ceremony. Just ahead, a man stood waiting like a chess piece carved from confidence and expensive fabric. Short, round, and balding, Count Radim III von Lindenberg wore a navy-blue suit so sharp it could probably cut glass. His smile was oily, and his hands were already in motion, gesturing with polished ease.
"Ah! There you are! On time—how delightfully rare in our wonderful family!" he exclaimed, not waiting for anyone to respond.
"You know, punctuality is the true measure of nobility. Not land, not titles. Time. And presence."
"Good morning, Radim," Joe said, extending a hand with his usual calm manner and ignoring Radim's blabbering.
"Count Radim," the man corrected with a chuckle, before quickly pulling Joe in for a handshake. "But never mind that, it'll be a duke Radim by noon, eh?"
Only Joe dryly chuckled softly in response. Anna sighed and rolled her eyes.
Eva raised an eyebrow and whispered to David, "what is the difference between count and duke?"
"Honestly, I don't really know," David replied with an apologetic expression, before turning to his mother.
"Mom, you know the difference?"
"I don't know and I don't care..." Anna shrugged.
As Radim led them up the broad marble steps, he chattered the entire way.
"They say the castle has over three hundred rooms, but the true marvel is in the gardens. Have you ever seen a statue from Carraran quartz? The late queen had a taste for grandeur, if not subtlety. I—"
"Oh, look, there's Garchomp!" Jake pointed toward the statues scattered among the terraces—sharp, regal figures of Dragonite, Garchomp, Haxorus, and even Latios. All overlooked the river below, as if guarding not just the kingdom, but time itself.
Eva noticed her son's awe and gently whispered, "later, pumpkin. I promise."
Inside, the castle swallowed them whole. Ornate archways towered over velvet-draped halls, and golden chandeliers glittered above floors polished so smooth that Jake briefly worried about slipping. The walls were a gallery of monarchs, painted with serious brows and scepters shaped like dragon claws.
They entered a side chamber with polished wood panels and a single long window that cast a golden streak of morning light. Waiting there was a man in a black formal robe, his face as pale as parchment. His voice, when he spoke, was barely above a whisper.
"The Lindenberg family. Welcome."
Everyone fell silent. Even Radim.
The man continued, soft and precise, "I am Officer Brož, member of Protocol department. I am here to make sure everything will run smoothly. We shall begin right away."
Jake fidgeted at the sight of the serious, emotionless man. But did not dare to speak. Meanwhile the protocol officer carried on.
"You will address me only if spoken to. You are here for the knighting ceremony. You are guests of the court. Do not mistake this invitation for some sort of familiarity."
He paused, his eyes scanning them like a security system.
"The ceremony begins at eleven. Between now and then, you will learn exactly where to stand, when to speak, and how not to embarrass yourselves or more importantly the crown."
"Sounds thrilling," muttered Anna under her breath.
Brož continued without looking at her. "The King shall be addressed as His Royal Majesty. The Queen, Princes, and Princesses shall be addressed as Their Royal Highnesses. You will not speak unless addressed. You will never turn your back to the throne. You will not make sudden movements. You will definitely take no photographs. Phones off. Pokémon inside Poké Balls. The boy—" he pointed toward Jake, "—will remain silent at all times. He may hold his mother's hand. He may not wave, fidget, or sneeze."
Jake gave a nervous gulp. Eva tightened her hand around his.
"It's all right, pumpkin," she muttered.
"Everyone understands?" he asked, but did not wait for any answer.
"Good. We will now rehearse the ceremony. I shall line you up, as you will during the real one. You, stand over here, you, over there and..." he started to manage them like a conductor.
They moved into place, awkwardly mirroring the positions Officer Brož indicated. Radim fussed with his collar. David glanced at Joe. Eva quietly explained to Jake what was happening whenever she felt that her son was not paying enough attention.
"Walk. Stop. Bow. Turn. Face forward. Again."
They did.
"Too slow. Again."
They did.
"Now, for the next part. You shall kneel. The king will touch his ceremonial sword on both your shoulders. Look ahead. Don't look him in the eye, unless he addresses you."
"Sir, who will be the one kneeling?" Anna asked, "all five of us?"
Brož turned towards the table and went through few papers really quick.
"Mr. Joseph Lindenberg and Mr. David Lindenberg. That means you two," he pointed towards Joe and David, "while the rest of you stay in the line."
They practised the knighting part several times, until Brož was satisfied with their performance.
Radim finally broke. "Excuse me, Officer Brož—yes, yes, this is all lovely—but surely there's a part where my elevation is included? I was told this would be the moment."
Brož did not blink. "No such segment exists."
"But I was promised! By the Chamberlain! This is to be my hour of acknowledgment—of service! To elevate our house from countdom to duke—"
"You were misinformed," Brož replied, deadly calm.
Radim flushed purple. "This entire day was orchestrated to recognize—"
"If you raise your voice again," said Brož, without changing tone, "you will be removed from this room and from the ceremony."
"But this day should be about me!"
The Lindenbergs stood frozen, caught in a social avalanche. Jake looked up at his mother with alarm, but Eva only gave him a reassuring squeeze.
Anna, without a word, gently raised her finger to her lips to indicate the others behind her—stay quiet.
Radim opened his mouth once more.
"Enough," Brož said. With a tiny flick of his fingers, two palace guards entered and gently, but firmly, escorted the stunned count out of the chamber.
Silence followed. The door clicked shut.
Jake tugged on Eva's dress. "Can we change our clothes now?" he whispered.
Eva silenced him with a finger.
"Shh, later," she whispered nervously.
David cleared his throat. "Sir Brož, if I may… Radim was about to... I mean... We were hoping to ask for a plea before the throne. Nothing dramatic, just a small request. We were told by Radim there would be an opportunity for that. But now, we're not sure if..."
Brož raised a single, thin eyebrow which made David stop talking.
"Define the request."
David quickly added, "I wish to join the Royal Guard. And my father hopes for royal clearance to raise our Battle Frontier's level cap."
The officer was quiet for five seconds, as though weighing their souls.
"There is a formal space after the knighting for petitions. You shall include your plea then."
Joe gave David an approving nod.
"Again, repeat the whole ceremony," said Brož. "This time, include the petition."
They repeated the full sequence. Bowing. Stepping. David recited the plea in his steady, baritone voice. Brož nodded once.
"Again, and the plea should be asked by the senior member of family."
They repeated the ceremony and this time it was Joe who asked about both issues.
"Acceptable."
The protocol officer made a few steps back and looked all over the family.
He turned to David, handing him a tie, he pulled from a cabinet by the wall. "Your tie is… incorrect. Fix it. Use this one."
David grumbled, "I liked the green—"
"Grey," said Brož.
"Fine," David murmered looking at Joe and Jake, who giggled at the sight of his father struggling with the tie.
And finally he turned to the women. "Your dresses are quite appropriate."
Anna gave Eva a triumphant smirk. Eva rolled her eyes, but with a faint smile on her lips.
They were interrupted, when David sighed still trying to fix the tie.
"Here, let me," Anna stepped over to her son and tied David's tie, because he tried it several times, but failed everytime to make it the right length.
"You're good to go, Dave," the older woman chuckled and patted her son on the shoulder.
"Now, repeat the whole thing one more time," Brož ordered when the tie was corrected.
The Lindenbergs knew better than to argue and proceeded with the rehearsal.
A distant bell rang—one, two, three solemn chimes.
Brož straightened.
"It is time. You know what to do."
The doors at the far end opened, revealing the gleaming corridor to the throne room.
The Lindenbergs took their places as practised. They stepped forward nervously.
In the audience, Monika spotted them. She waved wildly at Jake.
Jake, locked in fear and nervosity, didn't wave back.
He only managed to wink at his cousin, noticing his aunt Rachel taking pictures.
The hall that they entered seemed carved from legend itself.
Soaring columns of ivory-stone supported a vaulted ceiling painted in deep midnight blue and adorned with murals of dragons flying amidst stars. Long, rippling banners in royal violet and gold hung down like waterfalls of fabric. The air was thick with incense and polished wood, the scent of history clinging to every stone.
And then there were the statues.
Colossal effigies of dragon-type Pokémon lined the room. A fierce Salamence frozen mid-flight. A Hydreigon glaring with triple heads. A coiled Haxorus, its axe-like tusks gleaming in the torchlight. And behind the throne itself, towering over all, stood a statue of Regidrago—nearly four meters tall, its segmented, orb-like head shaped like a gaping dragon's maw. Ruby-like dots glinted on its face, and in the right light, they almost seemed to blink.
Jake Lindenberg stared at the statue in awe, tugging at his mother's gloved hand.
"Mom…" he whispered, pointing toward Regidrago.
Eva bent slightly and whispered back, firm but gentle, "Later, pumpkin. Quiet now."
He nodded, wide-eyed.
From the royal balcony above, a golden bell chimed once, echoing through the chamber.
"All rise," a herald's voice rang.
Everyone stood as the King entered.
He was an old man, regal yet frail, his white beard neatly combed and his robes embroidered with golden thread forming dragon patterns along the hem. He moved slowly, leaning on an ornate cane, flanked by his guards and several high-ranking nobles.
"Prince Charles is not here," David whispered towards Joe.
"Hard to say, if it's good news or bad news," Joe quietly replied.
"Probably bad ones," David frowned.
"Silence, you two," Anna whispered, ending their brief exchange.
The king did not speak—he didn't need to. His mere presence commanded silence. When he reached the throne—an imposing seat of obsidian and silver dragonstone—he lowered himself with a slight grunt and raised a single hand.
Everyone sat.
From the king's right, a thin man in a silver robe stepped forward—the spokeperson. His voice, though not loud, carried with unusual clarity.
"Today, we gather in the Hall of Mirrors to honor those who have served our kingdom with bravery, wisdom, and sacrifice. By decree of His Royal Majesty, these citizens shall be elevated to knighthood."
The ceremony began.
One by one, names were called. Honored soldiers, succesfull businessmen and athletes, civilian leaders, meritorious artists. Even one former prime minister. Each came forward, knelt, and received the ancient rite: the royal sword—an etched blade older than the monarchy—placed gently upon each shoulder by the king. The monarch's hand trembled with age, but his expression never faltered.
Then the herald's voice rang out again.
"Next, here comes Joseph Lindenberg, head of the Pokémon Frontier facility known as the Battle Ranch. With him is his son, David Lindenberg, acting as a Frontier Brain."
Jake straightened in his seat. Eva smiled and kept one calming hand on her son's shoulder.
Joe walked proudly, his stride measured and firm despite his nervosity. David followed, gaze forward, jaw clenched. Behind them, Anna adjusted her shawl. Eva exhaled slowly. Jake? He was watching the statues again. This time his eyes darted from the fierce Garchomp to the enormous Regidrago looming behind the throne.
"Mom," he whispered again, "It moved—"
Eva gave him a sharper look this time and squeezed his hand in warning. He went quiet as he knew the look very well, it usually meant no cartoons for a week.
Joe and David reached the king, bowed low, then knelt. The old monarch raised the ceremonial sword with both hands and, with solemn grace, touched it first to Joe's left, then right shoulder. Then David's. The King gave a faint nod. He did not utter a single word.
But the spokeperson did.
"Raise, sir Joseph, knight of Lindenberg-Iglaustadt. Raise, sir David, knight of Lindenberg-Iglaustadt."
As rehearsed, they stood, bowed again, and returned to their family's side with their faces directed towards the throne.
Jake wanted to say something, but this time his grandmother Anna raised a finger to her lips.
Then came the second part of the ceremony—the part the Lindenbergs were now unsure about. The plea.
The spokeperson raised his voice again.
"Is there one among the newly knighted who would seek a royal boon?"
Several more individuals came forward with requests: expansion of land, royal funding, legal pardons. Each was heard in turn.
Then Joe slowly stood. David took a deep breath, but said nothing. Jake nearly stood too, but Eva quickly pulled him back.
Joe cleared his throat and stepped forward.
"If it pleases His Royal Majesty," he began as rehearsed, "I would humbly request two boons. The first—that my son, David Lindenberg, be allowed to apply to the Royal Guard, bypassing common entry due to his prior special service. The second—that our Battle Frontier facility be granted permission to host ranked battles with Pokémon exceeding current level restrictions."
The king did not reply.
Instead, three people leaned toward him. One of them—broad-shouldered and sharp-eyed—was Baron Dvořák, the head of royal security, who met the Lindenberg family, when king's grandson was staying at the Battle Ranch, and hence he knew the Lindenbergs quite well. He whispered something into the King's ear.
Jake leaned forward in his seat, whispering, "Mom, that's the man who was with prince Charlie at our place!"
"Shh," Eva gave him a look, then turned her eyes back to the throne, tense.
Minutes passed. The king raised an eyebrow—just barely—and then nodded toward the spokeperson.
"The plea is heard," the herald announced. "However, His Majesty must decline the first request. The Royal Guard shall remain closed to direct appointment. The second request concerning the Battle Frontier is under review and shall be addressed separately."
David's face fell. Joe's lips pressed tight, but he nodded.
Jake whispered, "What does it mean? Did they say no?"
Eva nervously rested a hand on his head. "Sometimes kings have many things to think about."
Just then, Anna caught sight of a familiar figure in the audience—Count Radim, tucked toward the back, arms crossed and face flushed with quiet fury.
"I see the old vulture still came anyway," she murmured.
A loud chime rang again, and the herald began to dismiss the hall. Everybody, including the Lindenbergs rose, in order to leave the room.
"What do we do?" David hissed towards his father, his tone full of confusion.
"I don't know," Joe shook his head with similarly stunned expression.
Then Jake stopped and pulled Eva hand.
"Mom…"
"Jakey! What is it now!?" she asked in more irritated tone than she intended.
"Look!" the boy pointed towards the throne.
She turned her head and gasped.
The statue of Regidrago.
The ruby-red dots on its face, which looked like they had been lifeless for centuries, now blinked—one after the other—in a rhythmic pulse. Slowly. Deliberately.
And then… the entire hall fell silent.
Not from protocol.
But from confusion.
The dots flashed brighter.
A creaking, grinding noise echoed from behind the throne.
One of the nobles screeched. The hall's torches flickered.
Then, in front of hundreds of stunned nobles, soldiers, rangers, and the royal family itself—
—the statue of Regidrago stirred.
Its segmented jaws flexed.
Stone turned to living tissue.
Eyes of living crimson snapped open.
It was waking up.
Everyone stared in stunned disbelief.
Except the king.
He had not moved.
He simply raised one hand.
And did not lower it.
Jake pulled on Eva's hand again.
But she just like all the people in the hall was suddenly overwhelmed by a heavy pressure, making them all anxious, nervous and scared.
Jake's heart thudded strangely. A voice, cold, deep and clear, rang in his mind:
"Welcome, Jirachi ambassador. Welcome here, to the home of dragon people."
The little boy froze at the sudden intrusion into his mind.
"Mom," he whispered, eyes widening. "It's talking. It's talking to me. The statue's talking—"
Eva gripped his hand tighter with fear. "Jakey, stay close to me."
But it was already happening.
A soundless shift spread through the room, like the world holding its breath. Shadows stretched. Lights dimmed. The tall windows seemed to flicker as if dusk had fallen. The only illumination came from the crimson dots on Regidrago's face—now glowing.
Gasps. Screams stifled by the overwhelming pressure.
Regidrago moved.
It uncurled from its perch in grinding, ancient slowness. The stone around it cracked and splintered—not as destruction, but as a shedding of ancient sleep. Its eyes flared brighter.
"Don't worry, little one. Everything will be okay."
Jake fell to his knees. Not from fear—but weight of those words. A psychic gravity pressed into his thoughts.
Then, all at once—the king turned.
The elderly ruler, silent for the whole ceremony, dropped to one knee bowing his head before the great Dragon Pokémon. Gasps rippled through the chamber as the people followed the kings's lead. Eva reached out instinctively to pull Jake close, hugging him.
The pressure on everyone's mind ceased a little. Faces twisted in awe, fear, disbelief. Some whispered prayers. Others crossed themselves with trembling fingers. Count Radim stood frozen in the back, face pale and frowning.
The king's eyes, filled with a strange fire, met Regidrago's. His expression shifted—not fear, but revelation and curiosity. A man spoken to by fate itself.
Then—Regidrago turned its head. Slowly, it faced Jake.
The boy stared, trembling, but did not look away.
Regidrago didn't move its jaws. Its voice was silent thunder in the young boy's mind:
"I glimsed at fragments of your soul when you spoke with the dragons from this court, while they were guests at your family's fiest. And I deem you a friend of the dragons. Return after a dance, and you will be awarded."
Jake blinked. The light overwhelmed him—he buried his face in his mother's dress, as if he could hide from the pressure of it all.
Then—without another sound—Regidrago stepped backward into its place. Stone reformed around its frame like time itself reversed.
Silence.
The mental pressure on all slowly ceased.
And then… light.
The torches and chandelier flames snapped back to full brightness. The spell broke.
The entire court remained frozen for several long seconds, unsure what they'd seen. Or what to do next.
The king rose—not with effort, but with purpose—and gestured to the spokesperson.
The man stumbled forward, eyes still wide.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please proceed to the waiting rooms. The ceremony has concluded. The royal family will now take leave."
One by one, the guests exited—some glancing back in fear, some in wonder. Whispers filled the air like snow.
The Lindenbergs rose to move with the others. But then, a guard had firmly placed a hand on Joe's shoulder and told them to wait.
"What's going on?" Jake looked at his parents, and grandparents, but nobody knew.
Slowly, everyone else left the Hall of Mirrors.
Only the king and his advisors remained.
And then—he spoke.
"Your requests shall be granted," the king said. His voice was weathered marble, deep and regal.
"David Lindenberg shall serve in the Royal Guard. The Battle Ranch shall be exempt from standard combat conditions."
Baron Dvořák who previously adviced against such decision stepped forward, frown on his face. "My lord. May I ask—why?"
The king did not answer immediately. He simply pointed toward Jake, still holding Eva's hand, his eyes huge and glassy.
"The boy. His presence awoke our guardian. Nothing else matters."
Then the king adressed the Lindenbergs directly.
"Thank you for travelling to this city, our friends. Now, leave, rejoice and wait for our message. We look forward to meeting you again!"
The king finished speaking, rose and slowly left the hall, followed by his escort.
Baron Dvořák stopped to stare at Jake for a moment, then bowed and left with others.
The guard motioned for the Lindenbergs to follow him and to leave the way they came.
"Come on, let's go! And with eyes towards the throne," Anna quietly encouraged the others as they backed out of the Hall of Mirrors.
And as the heavy doors closed, Jake took one last look at the now-silent Regidrago statue. Its eyes were stone once more.