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Special Episode 1: Seven Years Ago - Part 3 (Tension to the Fore)
  • Arukona

    A Scribe Penning His Brainworms
    Location
    Ardalion
    Pronouns
    He/him
    Partners
    1. aggron
    2. sceptile
    Special Episode 1
    Seven Years Ago
    Part 3 - Tension to the Fore

    Melchior couldn't sleep.

    Nearly a week had passed since the mission at Yew Gulch in which Dalibor had suffered a grievous injury that left him comatose. Following that, he was placed in the care of one of the hospitals of Iria, and the Guild, along with Cornelia and the Grimmhatt orphans, had been told of what had happened. The response was shock followed by subsequent anger and grim seriousness from Mitrofan and the other Guild members, and an eruption of tears from Cornelia and the orphans upon being told the sad news. It wasn't an experience Melchior and Kallias wished to repeat, telling them of that tragic event.

    Since then, over the last week, three notable events occurred, and each of them played out in the Swampert's head.

    The first happened the morning after their return to Iria following the Yew Gulch mission.





    "Um, Kallias, Melchior? Marshal Yuliya wants to speak with you."

    Nikita was the one to say this, after knocking on the door of Team Marshwood' dormitory. The duo looked ragged - proof that neither had slept well.


    "Marshal Yuliya?" Kallias said, wiping sleep from his eyes. "Right. We'll be out at once."

    "Okay. She's waiting in the Guildmaster's office." With that, the Cubone left.

    After a quick thrust of water on their faces, Kallias and Melchior made their way to Mitrofan's office. There, the Furret awaited, along with Mitrofan.


    "Good morning, you two," the latter greeted.

    "Morning, Mitrofan. And good morning, Marshal Yuliya," Kallias returned. "What brings you here so early in the morning?"

    "Yes, apologies about the earliness," Yuliya replied. "But I wanted to get this information off my chest. It's about that map you presented to us that you found among those outlaws' possessions in Yew Gulch."

    "Yes…the map of Iria," Melchior recalled. "What of it?"

    Yuliya unfurled that same piece of parchment on Mitrofan's desk. "These markings," she gestured to each of the marks located at various points around the capital. "We've figured out what they're referring to."


    "And they would be…?"

    The Furret's expression became serious when she revealed the answer.


    "Wells."

    "Wells? As in to collect water from…?" Kallias's voice trailed off as the horrifying realisation of what this fact meant to the case at hand came to him.

    "Y-You don't mean…!" Mitrofan seemed to have come to the same conclusion, judging by his perturbed look.

    "It seems to be," Yuliya said. "It seems to be a plan to poison the wells of Iria. If such a plan succeeded, many of our citizens would fall ill from it."

    "But not just them!" Melchior pointed out. "There'll be a whole host of different people at the jubilee this week! People from all across the country…and foreign dignitaries and leaders, too! Not to mention…" A fearful look came into his eye. "...Loved ones, too."

    "Oh…will your family be coming to the jubilee, Melchior?" Yuliya asked.

    "No," Melchior blurted quickly. Kallias caught the split second flash of pain across the Swampert's face, and understood. "But…my wife will be there."


    "And our own wives and children will also be at the jubilee," Kallias added, gesturing to him and Mitrofan.

    "That means…" Mitrofan spoke grimly. "...That should this plan go through, our own families may be in danger."

    "We could always tell them to stay at home. But…I can't very well do that. Elvira's been looking forward to the jubilee for months, as has Zenobia. It'd be a crushing blow to them if I told them they couldn't enjoy the festivities."

    "Likewise, we could hardly cancel the jubilee over this, could we?" murmured Mitrofan. "So many logistics have been put in place for the day that it would be impossible to call it all off. I can only imagine the rebuke we would get from nobles, Branislav and House Ruslan for even suggesting the idea. That would be a greater blow to our name than anything else we've had thrown our way."

    "True." Yuliya nodded in understanding. "...Well, we have to work with the jubilee's logistics, whether we like it or not. It will no doubt be made all the more difficult with the crowds. The possibility of the fugitives behind this blending in with the throng of citizens is a possibility that we can't deny.

    "But we in the knights of Iria will act vigilantly! In the name of His Majesty, we shall see to it that your families, and all the citizens of Iria will not be endangered by the nefarious plots of this underground group! I, Marshal Yuliya of House Lysagora, swear this on my name!" She held up her right fist in the salute of the Selenian knights. "I will allocate knights to defend the wells marked on this map. No invaders will be able to taint their waters. I don't care if it means sullying my name with the other knights, cooperating with mercenaries. Their criticisms will mean nothing if it means saving the lives of countless civilians."

    "Glad you're able to see the bigger picture, Marshal," Mitrofan praised. "I look forward to having your support."

    "Yours too, Guildmaster Mitrofan," returned the Furret, before making her way to the exit. "...Oh, before I go. Thank you very much for unearthing this plot. We may be able to avoid a major calamity thanks to the handiwork of you, Team Marshwood."

    "Anything if it means making our nation safer," returned Kallias. "You needn't worry. Our goals are perfectly aligned."

    "Indeed they are. …Farewell. I look forward to our cooperation."

    And with that, Yuliya left.




    The second event happened three days after the mission, and two days after the first one.




    Kallias and Melchior were having some dinner cooked by Aldebrand. But just as they finished up and gave their trays to the shelled dragon, Nikita came up to them.

    "Um, Melchior? Kallias?" the Cubone asked, a very nervous look on his face and pressing his forefingers together. "Could you come to the main area? There's…something you need to be there for. Guildmaster's orders."

    "...Of course," Kallias replied, with a slight frown. Nikita's expression didn't invite confidence that this would be good. "We'll be there at once."

    "Thanks." Nikita turned and left. Team Marshwood followed him to the assembly area, where a sight awaited them.

    Mitrofan stood, awaiting the duo. But so was a small group of knights, and between three of them, Spiridon stood, with his hands behind his back.

    The Hawlucha had been suspended until further notice by Mitrofan due to his actions at Yew Gulch. It hadn't been a surprise to him or Team Marshwood, but Spiridon was still assigned tasks within the Guild, usually under the watchful eye of another - usually Helena, Aldebrand, Krim or Nikita. However, as punishment, he wasn't allowed to leave the Guild unless approved by the Guildmaster himself.

    However, seeing the avian handcuffed by the knights, both members of Team Marshwood had the same guess as to what might have happened to have warranted this.


    "Team Marshwood," Mitrofan acknowledged. "...You've no doubt connected the dots as to what's happening here."

    "Well, just in case…why are you arresting Spiridon?" Kallias asked the Nidoqueen who appeared to be leading the group of knights.

    "...It relates to one of the outlaws that was captured by the Guild members that partook in a mission at Yew Gulch in the Nagoria oblast," the Nidoqueen lieutenant explained. "A Perrserker named Perdido."

    "Yes…what about him?" Kallias had a sneaking suspicion he knew what was coming next.

    "...As you testified before, Spiridon had plunged his head into the vat of poison, with the intent to 'get revenge', as was stated by you both. In doing so, Perdido ingested some of the poisonous liquid, and a fair quantity at that.

    "He fell ill not long after coming into our custody. He suffered from a high fever, sweats, stomach pains and vomiting. His condition only deteriorated over time. And this afternoon…" She paused briefly. "...He passed away, most likely from the poison."

    "...'Most likely'?" Melchior echoed.

    "An autopsy hasn't yet been performed on him," explained the Nidoqueen. "But the poison he ingested is the likeliest possibility. And as for who made him ingest it…" Her gaze fell to Spiridon. "...A charge of murder is being levied against him."

    "...I…" Spiridon faltered, but he was interrupted by Kallias.

    "I did warn you in Yew Gulch that letting your emotions get the better of you would lead to doing something you would regret," the Sceptile said with evident disappointment. "And now look." He gestured to him. "Being arrested for murder."


    "But I…!" The Hawlucha tried to come up with a counterargument, but it died at his lips.

    "...A great shame it came to this, Spiridon," lamented Mitrofan. "And at a time when the Guild's image is coming into sharp focus. If the leaders all around Ardalion heard that a murderer was mixed in with the Guild's ranks, then that would be a massive detriment to our name. It would be a convenient excuse for the nobles and knights that resent our presence to move to restrict the freedom we have right now. That's the last thing the Guild needs."

    Spiridon flinched at the stern look of the Aggron. "...I-I'm sorry, Mitt!" he cried. The reminder of how his actions impacted the Guild made him blink with tears. "I never considered the Guild…I acted way out of line. I really made a mess of things, didn't I…?" He sniffled, trying to rein in his emotions.


    "...I don't like to rebuke a good friend of mine like this," murmured Mitrofan. "But it must be done. As Guildmaster, I must consider the Guild's welfare and reputation above all. I can't pretend what you've done isn't a hammer blow to that."

    "Mmm." Kallias nodded in agreement, as did Melchior.

    "...But Spiridon?" Mitrofan continued, drawing everyone's attention.

    "...Yes, Mitt?" Spiridon asked, his voice strained by his emotions.

    "...We will get to the bottom of this," he vowed. "This whole episode has sent Dalibor into a coma and you into prison. It's a twisting, pernicious evil that's bubbling under the surface. For your sakes…I will bring it to the light."

    "Mitt…" The Hawlucha swallowed the lump in his throat. "...Thanks. Thank you…"

    "...It's all I can do," the Aggron replied. "That's all I have to say. Take him away, Lieutenant Ludmila."

    "Hmph." The Nidoqueen turned to her fellow knights. "Take him away, men. Hop to it!"

    "Yes, ma'am!" saluted the rest of the knights, before moving to take Spiridon away to the nearest prison.

    All three watched them, Mitrofan's words to Spiridon going through in their heads.


    …Yes. We will not allow this evil to derail the jubilee.



    Finally, the third event happened a day after Spiridon's arrest, and two days before the jubilee.




    "...Yes, I think that would be for the best," Kallias agreed. "There's just too much riding on this to be able to perform our duties properly."

    "I could tell," Melchior said. "You definitely have your focus elsewhere when we're in practice for this."

    "Well, that's a bummer." Rufina was with them, and didn't sound thrilled by the proposed changes. "The kids'll be sad not to see us there. But, hey…I get your point. "

    "So we're all in agreement, then," Mitrofan surmised. "Very well. I'll present this proposition to Marshal Branislav. …Nikita, if you could?" he asked the Cubone off to the side.

    "Of course, Guildmaster Mitrofan," obliged Nikita, taking the letter and exiting the office.

    Some time passed before a reply was issued. And much to their surprise…it was delivered by none other than the Sirfetch'd himself, along with a small retinue of knights. And among them was the same Nidoqueen lieutenant that had escorted Spiridon away a few days prior.

    Perhaps not to their surprise was the attitude with which he responded.


    "My, my, this is a surprise." The bird knight sounded awfully smug and wore an expression to match. Instantly, Teams Marshwood and Silver Axe, along with Nikita who was with them, found an irrational want for him to get this over with. "Both Team Marshwood and Team Silver Axe are dropping out of the parade?"

    "That is correct," Mitrofan affirmed. "It was a collective decision by all members of Team Marshwood and Team Silver Axe." He gestured to himself, Rufina, Kallias and Melchior. "It has become apparent that a group existing in the shadows is planning an operation to contaminate the waters of Iria. Most likely, it will happen during the jubilee, when the capital will have throngs of people enjoying the jubilee celebrations. If the wells are poisoned…the level of sickness will be unimaginable."

    "And we know for a fact that this is a deadly poison," Kallias reinforced. "Sickness would be putting it lightly. You would have death on a massive scale. Everyone, no matter their class, would be affected. It would be nothing short of disastrous if their plans were allowed to succeed." If one thing had been gained from Spiridon's actions, it was that they could indeed confirm that this poison was deadly to those who ingested it.

    "Hah! Bluster!" Branislav insinuated. "You mercenaries plainly see the attendance in His Majesty's parade as too daunting for your freelancing ways! This is your attempted justification at downplaying your fear! Who in their right mind would have the gall to abandon their place in His Majesty's parade? Only a coward, that's who!"

    "You plainly don't understand," Kallias replied, feeling his annoyance increase. He tried his best not to let it show. "Are you aware of what we have uncovered? Did Marshal Yuliya not inform you?"

    "Of course I did. She made it plain to His Majesty and Marshal Trokhym as well," the Sirfetch'd replied. "But that is nothing we knights cannot handle! Besides, we cannot very well unfold all that we have prepared! It would be an insult to bow to this threat! As they say in the theatre, the show must go on. His Majesty's parade will go ahead, no matter what happens! To even think of rejecting such an honour…you mock His Majesty's name and spit on it!"

    "I beg your pardon, Branislav." Mitrofan's tone was definitely more curt. "This has nothing to do with offending His Majesty. On the contrary, we seek to quash this threat before it can derail his jubilee."

    "Rubbish," scoffed Branislav. "Do you think us knights incapable of resolving such matters, Guildmaster Mitrofan? …How typical of mercenaries. Never bound by loyalty to His Majesty, and skiving off their duties whenever they feel like it. No honour, this lot! Always trying to outdo us at every turn and undermine our honourable name!" he ranted to his knights.

    "...It's like you never even heard what we just said," Rufina said, shaking her head in annoyance. "This is our case! We mercenaries were the ones that uncovered this plot, so we should be the ones to put it to rest! And especially these two - " She gestured to Team Marshwood. " - Who you all desperately want to be in the parade because they're the real ones that gather all the clout and made all these people come to Iria in the first place!"

    Melchior was getting worried.
    Oh dear…she's getting fired up, he thought. Please don't go too far with this, Rufina…

    "What? ...Such insolence," growled Branislav. Behind him, some of the other knights glared at the Haxorus. "Do you know who you're talking to, madam?"

    "Of course I do," fired back Rufina. "A snobbish brat who happened to become a marshal because his dear old daddy happened to do a favour at the right time for the tsar. Someone who'd barely seen a glimpse of training as a cadet, suddenly made a marshal in the blink of an eye!"

    "Y-You dare insult me like this?!" the Sirfetch'd spluttered.

    "Yes, I do!" the Haxorus returned, before turning to the group of knights accompanying the knight. "Is this the kind of man you lot take orders from? I gotta say…I pity you all. You deserve better than this sad sack who hides behind his authority and uses it to mock others lower than him over the pettiest of things. Yuliya's good, and so is Trokhym, but him?" She pointed to Branislav. "He's a coward and a bully who doesn't deserve to be where he is today!"

    "Silence, you uncivil woman! You dare to vilify - "

    "Shut up," Rufina instantly shut down. "Listen here, you all." She continued directing her speech at Branislav's knights. "Those aren't rumours about how he became marshal - it's the damn truth! …Isn't that just sad? Think about it - all of those days, months, maybe even years training to rise in the ranks, only to find you've been bypassed by a lord's son who's barely seen combat in his life."

    As Melchior had feared, she had pulled no punches. And her opponent looked apoplectic with rage.


    "...Guildmaster Mitrofan." Branislav turned icily to the Aggron. "Does your partner's insolence know no bounds? Are you going to be responsible and rein her in as a leader should?"

    Mitrofan considered the marshal's question before uttering his reply.


    "No."

    "...I beg your pardon?" The Sirfetch'd did a double take.

    "Mitrofan?" Melchior looked over in shock and confusion at the guildmaster. This is new. He's not reining in Rufina this time?

    Kallias, meanwhile, knew the look in the Aggron's eye. Hmm, this might be interesting. Let's just hope Mitt doesn't take it too far…

    "My next words are not for you, Branislav, but for your fellow knights," Mitrofan told the Sirfetch'd, before turning to the group of knights accompanying him. Clearing his throat, he began.

    "Within the Knights of Selenia, I am aware that there is friction between us. I am also aware of the fundamental distrust that exists in the knights towards us. A fear of being undermined, a fear of being recognised as second best by His Majesty Tsar Kliment. And in recent times, some in the knights, and also the noble houses of Selenia have accused us of purposefully interfering with the jubilee celebrations. I wish to set the record straight, and for you all to hear the lips from the Guildmaster himself.

    "Let it be known that I have no issue with working with the Knights of Selenia. I am perfectly happy to cooperate with the knights in the setup of the celebrations of His Majesty's silver jubilee. And many of the mercenaries of this Guild share this view. Though there exists friction, there have been many cases where we have worked together without trouble. Marshal Yuliya, for instance, has been cooperative, as has Marshal Trokhym on the few occasions when we have worked together with him. House Ruslan, too, has been greatly supportive of our efforts, and the personal word from His Highness Prince Kasimir is that he wishes this cooperative spirit between the knights and mercenaries to continue beyond the jubilee. I, too, wish for this. And no doubt there are many knights that wish for this too.

    "However…a certain someone - a leading light in the knights, at that - has done nothing but stymie our efforts to cooperate." Mitrofan turned to glare at Branislav. "I have seen to it that the anti-knight rhetoric is dialled down within my Guild, in order to ensure greater cooperation. But I have received a number of complaints from my mercenaries, rookie and veteran alike, of your continued derision and insults towards them. Evidently, you haven't done the same. You seek to keep stirring the pot, for what purpose I cannot fathom. This can only hinder the jubilee's preparations, and worsen our relations. And now, when I ask for your understanding over why we do not wish to participate in the jubilee parade, with no insult to His Majesty's name…you intend to twist into that very thing.

    "I have held my tongue at your insults long enough, Marshal Branislav. But when you seek to personally mock good friends of mine within the Guild…then I can no longer ignore your words. You have crossed a line. And so, I will not condemn Rufina for what she has said. Because you deserve every insult thrown your way by her."

    MItrofan's words were icy and cold. But the sudden change in tone next shocked everyone in the room.


    "…Petulant, petty, pathetic. That is no attitude for one of the most prestigious men in the country to have!" he suddenly thundered. "Rufina is quite correct! You are unworthy of the title of marshal! And these honourable men and women do not deserve to be under your command! Now act like a man worthy of your title and recognise this danger that faces Iria! Because if you don't, then all those people you swore to protect when you took your oath as a knight will perish in a painful and horrible death! An infant could see the peril! If you have even the slightest devotion to your people, then you will allow us to withdraw from the parade! And if you do not do this, then I will raise the issue with His Majesty himself! Then we'll see just how much your authority means in the face of the tsar! Have I made myself clear, Branislav?!"

    The silence was deafening in the aftermath of this. Everyone, be they mercenary or knight, gawped at the Guildmaster's rant. They had no idea at the start of his speech to Branislav's subordinates that it would descend into this. Even the knights could appreciate the sheer authority that radiated from Mitrofan in that moment. It was as if they were being faced with the wrath of a veteran general - and by the looks on each of their faces, the knights plainly had never been at the receiving end of such an authoritative wrath. Certainly, Branislav had never mustered such genuine fury, and probably never would.

    (Perhaps the most stunned of them was the Nidoqueen lieutenant, who couldn't tear her gaze from Mitrofan in the aftermath of what had happened.)

    The Aggron's wrath, however, was a sign that he had come to the end of his rope with the Sirfetch'd. All Guild members recognised this, and so Kallias spoke up.


    "...The Guildmaster's normally a very patient man," he spoke. "To drive him to what we just saw…it's plain as day that a line has been crossed. I don't care for what kind of authority Marshal Branislav has. This wouldn't have happened if not for him."

    "...I think it's best you all left," Melchior advised. "Let His Majesty know of our wish to withdraw, and the honest reasons for it. It's best we remain apart for a while until things have settled down here."

    The knights looked at each other. A wordless understanding was reached between them, and so they turned to leave. Branislav's look on his face betrayed his wounded pride, and he gave Mitrofan a meaningful glare as he went to climb the ladder. The Aggron returned it.

    Once they were gone, Rufina let out a snicker.


    "Wow, Mitt. I forgot you could get that angry. And what a speech, too!" She gave a few light claps.

    "Yeah…Y-You stood up to him really well, Guildmaster," praised Nikita.

    "...It's nothing worthy of praise," Mitrofan downplayed, taking deep breaths to calm himself down after that catharsis.

    "Mmm...as much as I hate to admit it, you have a point," Kallias said. "Branislav won't be forgetting that easily. And I don't think many of the lords would take kindly to that evisceration by words to a marshal, especially a darling in their eyes like him."

    "...Let's just hope nothing boils over on jubilee day," Melchior said hopefully.

    "...Yes. Let's."



    Melchior tried and tried to fall asleep. But with these thoughts swirling around in his head, it was plain that it wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

    "...Can't sleep?" a voice said to him in the dark. Turning over in the bed, the Swampert saw his wife staring at him.

    "Paulina? …I'm sorry I woke you up," he apologised.

    "It's okay, Mel," the Meganium assured. "...Is it this whole mission that's keeping you up?"

    "...Yeah, it is."

    "...It must be a great burden, having a week like that pass you by."

    "...It is. To think, in a week, I've had a friend put into a coma, another friend arrested for murder, and my guildmaster erupt into a fury like nothing I've ever seen from him," Melchior reflected. "And then there's the biggest burden of all…this whole plot."

    "...How evil," Paulina remarked, shuddering. "Death on a scale like that…I shudder to think what will happen if these mysterious people manage to succeed in their plans."

    "...That's also it, too. If anything, that's probably keeping me up more than anything else," confessed Melchior. "...It's really occurring to me now just how big the stakes are if we fail. If they win…then many people will die. Hundreds, thousands…" He began to quiver. "...It scares me. It really does."

    "They won't win," Paulina encouraged. "Not when they're faced with you and Kallias. They'll easily be defeated by you two! …Oh, and don't worry about me. I brought spring water from Serykholm to use tomorrow. Zenobia did the same."

    The Swampert couldn't help but sigh. He was glad for the Meganium's encouragement. But it still didn't deter his nerves. It wasn't as if the problem disappeared at her motivating words

    He reached over, therefore, and hugged his wife in a longing for comfort. Sensing his stress, Paulina let him embrace her, and she wrapped some of her vines around him. Normally, the mudfish hated this - he was a Water/Ground-type, after all - but when it was Paulina doing it, it was okay.

    He didn't cry. He felt emotional, but not enough that tears fell. The stress of last week, as well as the comfort of his wife, helped bring him to this point.

    At that point, he closed his eyes, and said a silent prayer in his head.

    Thank the heavens for Paulina. For her sake, as well as everyone else in Iria…please let luck be on our side tomorrow.




    Today was the day.

    Many in the Tsardom of Selenia had been looking forward to this day. It was a day that would be marked as a monumental occasion in history. A celebration of their leader, focusing on his past achievements, his present good health, and hopes that the future would herald more prosperous tidings for their lands.

    On this day twenty-five years ago, Kliment Nikiforovich Ruslan became leader of House Ruslan and ascended to become the tsar of Selenia. Twenty-five years later, he was to be lauded by the nobles and commoners under his rule, as well as foreign dignitaries from Alba, Dresilia and Miletos.

    Many travelled to Iria to be a part of this historic occasion. The nights prior to jubilee day saw large groups of visitors travel to the capital, and inns and taverns across Iria repeatedly reported to travellers that they were long since full. Undeterred, many visitors simply camped out on the streets or outside the city walls.

    Kallias and Melchior were aware of this. Therefore, they told their wives to come to Iria sooner to avoid the chaos. Paulina and Zenobia, along with Elvira, were accommodated in Mitrofan and Rufina's house in town two days before the jubilee. The members of Team Silver Axe were all too happy to help them out, and Rufina was eager to catch up with the two of them, as was Elvira with Stiliyan and Nevena.

    Meanwhile, their husbands stayed at the Guild, except for the night before the Guild, when they temporarily relocated to Rufina's house and spent the night in bed with their wives. When morning came, they, their wives, and children, all had a big breakfast in preparation for the day ahead of them.

    "So you two and Dad are on a big, top secret mission?" Stiliyan asked Team Marshwood, his eyes wide with curiosity.

    "Yes. And one with very high stakes," Kallias informed. "If we fail…then there'll be grave consequences for the people coming for the celebrations today."

    "...W-Will something bad happen?" Nevena timidly asked, looking over at her parents.

    "No, it won't," scoffed Rufina. "You're looking at the finest men of the country right here. They'll stop whatever hare-brained plans these maniacs have come up with." She stopped to feed some food to Luka.

    "...Was that why you three have been holed up in the Guild for the last two days?" presumed Zenobia.

    "Yes," Kallias confirmed. "We've been trying out all sorts of plans for what these fugitives might do. Mind you…it might all be for nothing. Marshal Yuliya has kindly diverted some knights to guard the wells marked on that map. They might well abandon it now that we know of their plan. But I'd bet a sizable chunk that these people won't give up in trying to derail the jubilee. If these are pragmatic people - which I wouldn't be surprised if they were - "

    "Or desperate," interrupted Rufina.

    "...Yes, or if they're desperate, then they might abandon that plan and try something else," Kallias finished, glossing over the Haxorus's interjection.

    "...Oh yeah…it's like what you told me, Dad," Stiliyan said. "Just as heroes never give up, villains don't give up easily either."

    "Quite right, my boy," Mitrofan replied. "A good lesson in persistence. You'll hopefully learn that when you become a mercenary in your time."

    "Yeah…Can't wait to become one." The Axew looked psyched. "Then I'll be like you guys, taking on top secret missions like this thing you're doing right now!"

    "...Be careful what you wish for, Stiliyan," his father warned. "If you were in my position right now, you would want no part in it. It's been a stressful affair, with harm dealt to good friends of ours in Team Hair Trigger. It's led to me being rebuked by His Majesty and House Lada for raging at Branislav. And all the while, I'm reminded of the calamity that will be inbound if we can't stop these evildoers."

    "...Don't put him off, Mitt," Kallias joked, in an attempt to lighten the mood and paint a brighter picture for the children in the room. "The boy won't ever want to become a merc again with what you're telling him. Look on the bright side. If we win…then we'll have averted a major crisis. We have to look at it like that. If you believe we'll lose, then we'll lose. We gotta keep our chins up. Not just for our sakes, but for our little ones too." He looked at the four kids around the table in acknowledgment. "We will win. Don't worry about us today. You just focus on enjoying the day for what it is."

    "...Sure, Dad," Elvira said. "It's sad we can't see you and Melchior in the parade, but…you have important work to do instead. And because of it, you're gonna save everyone in Iria."

    "Don't let nerves get to you, dear. I know you can do it," Zenobia encouraged. "You're one of the best mercs out there. And you too, Melchior," she said to the Swampert. "These villains won't win against you!"

    "You can count on us," promised Kallias. "We'll have this whole mess sorted out by day's end."

    "And we'll look after the kids," Paulina said.

    "Sure as hell we will. I'm not letting one of those freaks lay their hands on them if it ever comes to it!" vowed Rufina. "They'll be safe as houses with us."

    "...Right then." Kallias rose from his seat. "We have all the materials, yes?"

    "We do," Melchior affirmed, going over to where their mercenaries' bag was located.

    "...A-Actually, wait, Dad," Elvira interrupted. "Um...Mom and I have something for you."

    "Oh yes, of course. I nearly forgot," Zenobia realised. "Hang on. We'll get them for you." The mother and daughter duo disappeared to their bedroom.

    They returned with a small bag, and gave it to Kallias. He looked inside, and was staggered by what he saw.

    "Zen! These are…"

    "I know. Elvira found them being sold by a Dresilian merchant in Ozerograd earlier in the week. Given what we were hearing from you, we figured it would help you on this mission. You and Melchior are the most capable men I know. But…it couldn't hurt to have it. A contingency plan for if things become awry."

    "...Thank you." Kallias felt touched. "I don't know if we'll use them, but…we'll certainly take them." He gave them to Melchior, who put it into the bag. After that, he gave the Heliolisk a big hug.

    "Stay safe," she urged.

    "I will. We'll come back with a heroic story to tell," the Sceptile promised. "...Now then. Let's go."

    And Team Marshwood, followed by Mitrofan, headed out the front door.





    The moment they stepped out into the street, the three mercenaries could immediately sense the change in atmosphere to a joyous one. The houses along the street were all decorated and repainted in preparation for jubilee day. Even those who didn't have the highest respect for Tsar Kliment saw it as a chance to get their houses redone. Rufina was one such person, and saw to it that the house looked presentable to any onlookers. Some banners, bunting, and other such decorations were hung up to fit in with the general look of the street they lived on.

    There were also a number of people lining the streets. Not suffocatingly so, but there were certainly enough to make a misanthrope's skin crawl. Thankfully, they were all neighbours of Mitrofan and Rufina, and knew something of the situation he was in. Of course, they didn't know the full details, but they knew the sort of person Mitrofan was. If he had bowed out of something as honourable as the tsar's jubilee parade, then he most likely had good reason for doing it.

    Therefore, not many people batted an eye when he appeared out of his home with Team Marshwood. On the front doorstep stood a familiar figure.

    "Hello, Guildmaster Mitrofan," greeted Nikita, a happy smile on his face upon seeing the Aggron.

    "You too, Nikita," Mitrofan returned. He then turned to Team Marshwood. "...Well, you two, this is where we separate for now. I'll scour the western side of town for any suspicious activity, You do the east."

    "Right. Understood," Kallias obliged. "We'll see you later."

    "See you. Oh, and…" Mitrofan paused to add, with a serious look on his face, "...Take care out there. We know these brutes are not afraid to murder. And after the way you took down two of their operations…I would rather you not meet a fate like Dalibor or Spiridon did."

    "..." Team Marshwood's faces grew solemn in remembrance of what happened in the past week.

    "...Please don't fall victim to them." The Aggron's tone sounded almost pleading. "Consider it an order as your Guildmaster…and as your friend."

    "...You don't have to worry, Mitrofan," Kallias assured. "If these brutes think they can outsmart us, then they've got another thing coming."

    "That's right," Melchior seconded. "We'll see to it that their plans never come to fruition. Not today, not ever!"

    "...Good. With your determination, I know we'll win this." Mitrofan turned to leave with Nikita. "I wish you the best of luck." And with that, he headed left down the street.

    "Well, let's get going," Kallias said to Melchior. "I say we monitor those wells marked on the map." He took out a map - an illustrated replica of the one he'd retrieved from the Yew Gulch mission. "Let's see…all along here." He pointed to the wells in Iria's eastern half. This had already been discussed in the planning they'd done with Mitrofan over the past week, once they'd learned the information about the map from Yuliya.

    The duo set out, down the streets. They took quieter routes that didn't have as many people on them, so they wouldn't draw as big of a crowd if they were noticed, and subsequently interrogated by people on the street. They mostly avoided blatant scrutiny, thankfully.

    Still…that didn't mean they didn't receive a number of odd looks as they walked down the streets. A number of whispers were overheard by them.

    "There they go…"

    "Why aren't they gonna be in the parade? People would kill for that!"

    "Now, dear, don't be that way. You know what they're like. There must be an important mission or something that means they can't make it."

    "...Important enough to miss out on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity like that? …That kinda sucks. The little ones were looking forward to seeing them in the parade…"

    Melchior couldn't help but feel slightly downcast at hearing this last remark. His partner happened to notice this.

    "...You okay, Melchior?" he asked.

    "...Yes. It's just…I fear many people will be disappointed not to see the two of us in the parade," the Swampert replied. "I wouldn't be surprised if people travelled to Iria just to see us, and they didn't get the memo that we had dropped out of the parade."

    "...Well, nothing we can do about that now," Kallias returned. "...If they knew what we were doing, they wouldn't be questioning it."

    "But it's not like we can tell them," Melchior mourned. "The last thing we want to do is start a panic."

    "We've kept missions secret before, Melchior," Kallias reminded. "This is just another one of those instances."

    "...Right," the Swampert murmured as the trio marched onwards.

    Without incident, the duo made it to the first well. There stood two knights, who stood attentively and watchfully, looking out for any suspicious activity. This had been an arrangement by Marshal Yuliya, who had met Team Marshwood and Mitrofan the day before, which notably, was the day after the latter's outburst against Branislav. Yuliya had been quick to apologise for his behaviour, and doubled down on aid to the Guild in this mission. As such, she assigned a number of knights to guard each of the wells marked on the map retrieved in Yew Gulch. It took quite a bit of convincing from Trokhym and especially Branislav to arrange this, but it was eventually approved.

    "Oh, it's Team Marshwood," said one of the knights, a Dewott.

    "We haven't found anything out of place, before you ask," the other knight, a Sunflora, added.

    "Really? Nothing at all?" Melchior asked. "Nothing suspicious?"

    "Nuh-uh." The Dewott shook his head. "Nothing or no one suspicious. A few passersby going about their business, at best. But it's been all quiet here."

    "Right," noted Kallias. "Thank you for telling us."

    "No problem."

    And with that, Team Marshwood departed for the next well on their side of town. With all of them, it was a similar story; the assigned knights at each well reported no oddities. And on their own, they didn't spot anything strange or out of the ordinary. (Apart from the atmosphere of jubilance due to the day's celebrations, of course.)

    Once they had done a sweeping search on their side of town, Melchior couldn't help but feel discouraged.

    "...I really hope we haven't made a mistake here," he said worriedly. "Are we sure those villains will strike today? Or have they aborted their plans?"

    "...It's too early to come to that conclusion," Kallias replied. "It might seem like paranoia, what we're doing. But if we slacken our efforts, then they will strike, and the people here today won't be so jovial any more."

    "…You know, we still haven't answered that question," the Swampert pointed out. "Who are we chasing here? We know it's an underground association of some kind. But we don't have a name for these people, much less their motivations. What drives them? What could they possibly be after? And why would they try to mass murder so many people?"

    "...I can't answer that," Kallias replied regretfully. "But with people with ambitions like that…I don't know if it's worth trying to figure out such a psychotic mindset. I can appreciate convincing petty criminals to abandon their ways, but…I can't accept anyone who would even contemplate such a plan."

    "Nor would I," Melchior sighed. He then looked up at the sky. "...It's not quite noon yet."

    "…We should meet up with Mitrofan at some point," Kallias replied. "See if he has anything to report."

    "That's a good idea. …Let's do some more searching for clues on our side of town, before we meet him."

    And so they did that. But this venture yielded no further leads for the Master Rank team. Not feeling any more encouraged, the duo went to one of the southern wells that had been earmarked for Mitrofan to investigate. Luckily, they found him there with Nikita.

    "Ah, Team Marshwood," he acknowledged. "Has something happened on your end yet?"

    "No, nothing." Melchior shook his head. "None of the knights on our side have reported even the slightest thing out of line."

    "Same," Mitrofan replied. "...The worst part is that some of the knights are beginning to get restless. On a day when the spotlight is on Tsar Kliment and the Knights of Selenia are being honoured, they're stuck monitoring wells because of the paranoia of some mercenaries. I can't say I blame them, truth be told. …I do worry that if nothing happens, then we in the Guild will look foolish."

    "True enough," agreed Kallias. "I can only imagine how Branislav would milk that and use it against us."

    A growl emanated from Mitrofan at the mention of the Sirfetch'd. "He would too," he muttered angrily.

    "...Hmm…" Melchior seemed to be in thought. "You know…I've had a bit of a thought."

    "...What is it, Melchior?" Kallias asked.

    "…We've had trouble figuring out just why these people would think of such a plan. But…maybe that's the point," Melchior surmised. "Maybe creating chaos is their goal."

    "...Perhaps," Kallias remarked. "What reason could one possibly have to commit a mass murder of innocents on a scale like we're envisaging? Maybe they don't need a reason, if chaos is their end goal."

    "...You might possibly have a point," Mitrofan somewhat agreed. "...We were speaking of alternative plans back at the house. If we want to win against them, then we must think like them. What plan would do more than anything to cause chaos on a day like this?"

    "...Assassinating the tsar," Kallias proposed. "After all, he's out in the open here. If one wanted to kill him, today would be a good opportunity to do just that. And besides…think about it. If you wanted to create chaos, what better plan is there than killing the tsar? That would send the country into a right panic."

    "...Indeed," the Aggron replied. "But the knights' security is extra tight today. Our warnings about a plot compelled them to do this. Marshal Yuliya told me as much."

    "...Still, that doesn't mean we shouldn't check out Tsar Kliment," Melchior reasoned. "There might be something there that the knights are missing."

    "...You wouldn't want Branislav hearing you say that," chuckled Kallias. "...But you have a point, Melchior. Let's head over to where the tsar is now. Which is where…?"

    "Right now…" Mitrofan looked at the sky. "It's midday. If I'm not mistaken, Tsar Kliment is or will be giving a speech at Olbia Square around now. We should make our way there."

    "Then it's settled," Kallias said. "Let's go."

    Olbia Square was one of a number of public squares dotted around Iria. It was the biggest and most prominent of them, featuring an elegant water fountain and a distinguishable statue of a regal-looking Pangoro. Even children knew who this was - this was the ancient hero Ruslan who founded the tsardom of Selenia and became its first tsar. Beneath his statue, many of his predecessors had given speeches, and his current descendant ruling the house he created would follow this same trend.

    With him, of course, came the usual throngs of people that had gathered on this day to see moments like this that would be remembered for years to come. This proved to be quite a problem for Team Marshwood, Mitrofan and Nikita. Long before they were even at Olbia Square, they found one of the streets leading up to it to be choked with people.

    "Damn," cursed Mitrofan. "We need to get there quickly. But there are all these people in the way…"

    Various heads turned in the direction of the new arrivals. Several of them did a double take at two of them in particular, and then it began.

    "Hey…is that Team Marshwood?"

    "A Sceptile and a Swampert? It sure looks like them…"

    "It is them! I've seen them walking through these streets before! You can hardly miss them, what with those scarves!"

    "Holy shit, it is them!"

    "Not just them. Guildmaster Mitrofan's here too!"

    "Wait, but why are they here? Why aren't they in there with the tsar and the knights?"

    "Is it true you've fallen out with His Majesty? Is that why you're not in the parade today?"

    "That's the reason? What, has His Majesty stiffed them or something?"

    "Apparently the Guildmaster yelled at Marshal Branislav, from what I heard."

    "What do you say to that, Guildmaster Mitrofan? Did you and Sir Branislav have a falling-out?"

    "...Whether Marshal Branislav and I have fallen out is not relevant to the matter at hand," the Aggron immediately deflected. "May I ask that you let us through, please?"

    "Sounds like you did have a bust-up with him," a member of the crowd snarked.

    Mitrofan breathed in, and for a moment, Team Marshwood feared a similar outburst to the aforementioned incident with Branislav.

    "Excuse me, Mitt," Kallias interjected. "We'll handle this." He cleared his throat, and addressed the crowd. "I know you all have many questions about our withdrawal from His Majesty's parade. But please…it's imperative that you allow us to pass. The joy of the jubilee today might well be scuppered if we can't make it in time to where we need to go. …Please understand. We're on an important mission, and time is of the essence for us right now. We need to get to the stage where the tsar's giving his speech."

    "...Sounds serious," a Clefable remarked. "And if it's Team Marshwood, it must be serious. …Well, come on then, everyone! Let 'em through!"

    "Yeah!" a Loudred yelled, in the way their kind did. "They've helped us plenty! Now it's time for us to return the favour!"

    The crowd of people began to disperse, and a path through was eventually made.

    "...Thank you all," Melchior said gratefully. "We'll answer your questions in time, after all this is over."

    With that said, Team Marshwood made their way through the crowd down the street. It took some awkward manoeuvring to get around the crowd, and Mitrofan took to hoisting Nikita onto his shoulder so the Cubone wouldn't get lost in the crowd.

    But eventually, after much painstaking asking and a host of 'excuse me's' from the group, the four made their way down to where the square began. From here, they could see the stage, and it appeared that they were just in time to see Tsar Kliment begin his speech.

    The tsar was clothed in his full Selenian regalia. A refined Bisharp he was, wearing a distinguished crown and cape, and wielding a royal sceptre specifically for special occasions such as this one. He exuded power - he was one who, even without his regalia, could be picked apart in a crowd from the common 'mon. From this alone, many could say he deserved his position, and twenty-five years of relative peace was a testament to his skill as a ruler.

    By his side stood his family - the noble family of House Ruslan that ruled over the country. There was Yelizaveta Markiyanovna Ruslana, his Infernape wife and the Tsarina of Selenia. There was his tsesarevich, Crown Prince Kasimir, with a smile on the Monferno's face at the crowd before them. Beside him stood a Mienshao - Svetlana Gerasimovna Lysagora, his fiancée and princess-to-be. And equally as happy was Kasimir's younger brother on his other side - Prince Leonid, a Pawniard with resemblance to his father. Flanking each of them were a number of retainers, as well as the three highest marshals of Selenia - Yuliya, Branislav and Trokhym.

    A great cheer went up in the audience as Tsar Kliment stood up to the podium. Right now, it all seemed to be a defining moment in his reign: twenty-five years of ruling over the subjects before him, and they all reciprocated with cheers of joy and gratitude for their leader. The tsar couldn't resist a slight smile as he began his speech. The Amplification Crystal resting upon the podium would ensure that he could be heard even from the back of the crowd.

    "Today marks a historic day for Selenia. A day of celebration, but also one of remembrance and reflection. I remember this day twenty-five years ago well. I ascended to the throne upon the unfortunate death of my father, Tsar Nikifor III. For me, that day was bittersweet. I had lost my father, who I had loved dearly, and I had no choice as the tsesarevich but to take up the mantle of leader of House Ruslan, and become the tsar of Selenia, an event that always felt like a distant fantasy to me. But that fantasy would now become reality.

    "I was wracked with nervosity on that day. But one thing compelled me to carry out my duty that day; the citizens of my country, who applauded and cheered me and wished me good fortune as their new leader. I pledged, on that day twenty-five years ago when I became Tsar Kliment VII of Selenia, that I would forever devote my life to your service. Though I was yet green in judgement…that was a decision that guided me to carry out my responsibility to lead our nation. And now, twenty-five years later, I renew that same pledge, and it shall remain that way until my death, whenever that will happen."

    His coronation, huh? Sounded like quite an event, Kallias mused briefly. If only Melchior and I were there to see it…

    "These past twenty-five years have been fruitful for Selenia, and the stability and peace that persisted during that time is something I wish to upkeep in future. The jubilance of this occasion fills me with hope and optimism that this will come to pass. It has been of great benefit to our people, and I am only thankful to you, the people of Selenia, for seeing our tsardom through this era of peace and tranquillity. You are forever her bedrock, and I have eternal gratitude for your undying support for our nation."

    Playing to the masses…at least he recognises their efforts, Mitrofan noted. It would be a glaring omission if he said nothing of their work to uphold his regime.

    "I am blessed, as well, to have the support of my family through these times. In Tsarina Yelizaveta I have had a tsarina willing to carry out her duties and make sacrifices for our nation. She echoes the efforts of my own mother, Tsarina Sofia, when she was the consort to my father during his tenure as tsar. I have little doubt that my mother would look upon her with pride from the heavens above, and deem her a worthy successor to her."

    Tsarina Sofia…Melchior reflected. He didn't know a huge amount about her, given she had passed away not long after he and Kallias arrived in Selenia, but from what he'd heard, she was a benevolent tsarina who worked to help Selenia's poor and supported the Guild in their actions.

    "And it is with hope and pride that I will be able to say the same to my own son and tsesarevich, Kasimir, when he should one day carry the name of tsar. I wish that when that day comes, you will treat him and Lady Svetlana of Lysagora, who will become tsarina along with him, with the same respect and goodwill that you have bestowed upon Yelizaveta and I during our reign. I wish similar success to my younger son, Leonid, who will devote himself to his nation as any other member of House Ruslan would.

    "With the blessing of Lord Arceus, our Creator, that will be in the distant future, and I will still be capable of ruling over Selenia and her people for many years to come. May that time be blessed with prosperity, just as the last twenty-five years have been! May our tsardom strive for greatness, and forever work to make our country a righteous and just nation!"

    This was met with raucous applause throughout the crowd. Melchior looked around him; there were few people that didn't receive the tsar's message with acclamation. After all, who wouldn't wish for a better tomorrow? Who, within this crowd, would not want to repeat the glorious twenty-five years that Kliment had presided over?

    That answer, the crowd would unfortunately find out.

    Within the crowd, Melchior spotted movement through the crowd. There were a number of Pokémon gradually moving their way through the throng of people, and getting closer to the front.

    "Kallias," he said to his partner. "Look." He pointed to them. A dark feeling was growing in his chest.

    "Guildmaster." Nikita had the same thought. "There are some people going to the front…"

    "Are there?" Mitrofan turned to look. "...Those people…a Skuntank, a Magmar, a Typhlosion, a Torkoal…? Mostly Fire-types…Just what are they doing…?"

    They would soon have an answer. Once those Pokémon got close enough to the stage, they collectively unleashed a massive Smokescreen that enveloped the surrounding area.

    Immediately, everywhere at the front was sent into a panic. And Team Marshwood, Mitrofan and Nikita were caught right in the centre of it.

    "Argh!" Melchior cried, feeling himself being jostled by the panicking crowd. "No! Just like in Yew Gulch!"

    "Only this time…" Kallias looked toward the stage, now obscured by smoke. "Even more lives are at stake…!"

    "Nikita!" Mitrofan coughed, feeling the smoke. "Hold on tight! Don't get lost in the crowd!"

    "Okay, Guildmaster!" Nikita called back, and did as the Aggron instructed.

    "Protect His Majesty!" Team Marshwood heard the calls of knights over the panicked cries of the audience.

    We can't stand by and do nothing, Kallias decided. Maybe we ought to -

    Before he could finish this thought, he felt someone brush past him. He noticed a Jolteon speedily run past them…toward the stage.

    Alarm bells rang in the Sceptile's head, feeling something was definitely up. And so he gave chase through the smoke, and managed to tackle the Electric-type to the ground.

    "Agh! What the hell?!" the Jolteon cried out. Getting out from under the Sceptile, he did a double-take once he saw Melchior run up to accompany him. The duo pulled their scarves over their mouths to better weather the smoke.

    "You!" His face contorted into an angry snarl. "You two! Here to foil our plans again!"

    "That's right!" Kallias responded, moving in to slash him with a Blackthorn Cross Slash. "So you're with them, then! We won't allow you to go through with this!"

    "We'll never let the likes of you win!" Melchior vowed, readying a Mud Bomb and throwing it at the Electric-type.

    "Agh! Curse you!" hissed the Jolteon. He breathed to let loose a Discharge. This, if it had been successful, would've hurt the bystanders that had gradually moved away from him. However, a stun seed thrown in his direction stopped this attack in its tracks.

    "Dammit!" The quadruped's eyes were filled with fury. "Team Marshwood! Damn you! May you be cursed for all eternity!"

    "Oh, shut up. I don't have time for this," growled Kallias. "You need to stay down!" With that, he spun around and unleashed a Belladonna Cross Slash on the Jolteon. That managed to do him in, and he fell to the ground with a thud.

    "Right, that's him dealt with." The Sceptile turned his attention back to the scene. "Now then - " But before he could say any more, a voice called out to them.

    "Team Marshwood? You're here?"

    The duo turned to look, and Marshal Yuliya was approaching them with a small entourage of knights.

    "Marshal Yuliya," Kallias greeted grimly. "We had a feeling the attackers had changed tact, and go straight for the tsar himself. …It would appear we were correct."

    "We have to stop those that are putting up this Smokescreen," Melchior said. "There were others - a Skuntank, and some other Fire-types, if I recall…"

    "We are aware of this," Yuliya replied, and pointed to where a number of other knights were suppressing the Pokémon setting up the Smokescreen. Due to this, the Smokescreen was starting to dissipate, and once it had, the damage could be seen.

    Thankfully, it was not extensive. The citizens were more startled than hurt, although a number of them were coughing and spluttering, afflicted with smoke inhalation. Kallias and Melchior could see Mitrofan and Nikita, whom they had become separated from after Kallias had made after the Jolteon, aiding a number of those who had been afflicted.

    "Treat the wounded!" the Furret called to a number of knights. "Make sure that everyone is okay!"

    "Yes, ma'am!" saluted a Gumshoos knight, before he and nearby knights dispersed throughout the crowd to check on the afflicted.

    "...What happened here?" Yuliya asked.

    "He was running towards the stage," Kallias informed. "We feared he was going to do something to His Majesty."

    "Speaking of His Majesty…is he safe?" Melchior queried.

    "Worry not, Mud Bomber Melchior," another voice touted. "His Majesty has been escorted to safety, as has Tsarina Yelizaveta and Princes Kasimir and Leonid, away from the actions of these rapscallions."

    Team Marshwood looked over and saw that the answer had come from Marshal Branislav. The Sirfetch'd was now approaching them, while his own entourage seemed to be scouring the crowd for any more potential attackers that could strike.

    "So they've been escorted away, then?" Kallias asked.

    "Yes," Branislav confirmed. "They are safe. Marshal Trokhym and his men led them away."

    Team Marshwood noted the slightly disgruntled edge that came into his voice, evidence that he was still smarting from the incident two days ago. Evidently, he was trying to hide it, and Kallias had a feeling that even he knew it would be unwise to have a go at them while surrounded by so many people.

    "That's a relief," Melchior sighed, mopping his brow slightly.

    "...So this rapscallion attempted to assassinate His Majesty, you say?" the Sirfetch'd queried.

    "Yes, that's true." Kallias looked again at the Jolteon, before noticing the satchels attached to his sides. "Hm. What's that all about?"

    "I'll check," Melchior volunteered, going over to the unconscious quadruped and opening the satchel.

    There was one item in the bag. And once he took it out, the blood of everyone who saw it collectively froze.

    It was an ovoid object with numbering on it.

    02:09

    02:08

    02:07


    …That was counting down.

    "T-This is…!" an aghast Branislav reacted.

    "No, it can't be!" Yuliya cried out in horror.

    "In front of all of these people…!" Melchior said, looking around at the people around them.

    "We need to get this out of here, away from these people!" Kallias yelled out. Alas, this was easier said than done, what with all the people blocking their avenue of escape.

    "Leave that to us knights, Kallias," Yuliya replied, before stepping forward. "Excuse me, everyone! Please clear to either side for Team Marshwood to pass through! We must get this bomb out of Olbia Square now!"

    Once the word 'bomb' was mentioned, no one needed to be told twice. No one hesitated to obey the Furret marshal's instructions. Thus, a path was cleared, and Team Marshwood ran with the bomb in hand.

    They were far from safe, though. The bomb's timer continued ticking down as they ran.

    01:22

    01:21

    01:20


    "What do we do?! Where do we go?" Kallias was frantic.

    "...Somewhere where this won't harm anyone when it explodes," Melchior panted. "But…that's easier said than done on a day like this."

    "...Dammit," cursed Kallias. "...Where? Where can we go?"

    "..." Melchior's thoughts were in a fray, due to the pressure of the time bomb. But a thought did come to him in that moment.

    "How about the canal? That's nearby!"

    "The canal?" Kallias didn't sound fully convinced. "There's bound to be people there too…But it's not like we have much of a choice! Come on, let's go!"

    They ran towards the nearest bridge to the Miroslav Canal. This was a canal built some eighty years ago that ran through Iria and travelled through the central flatlands of the country to the River Evor, the tsardom's longest river. Its main purpose was for commerce and ease of access to the capital - two things that were being capitalised upon today.

    This was of no reassurance to the duo as they came to the bridge running over the canal, where a fair number of people had gathered. Below, a number of boats were tied up at anchoring points.

    All the while, the countdown was nearing the end.

    00:12

    00:11

    00:10


    "Everyone, get off the bridge!" Kallias insisted. "Please, it's for your own safety! This bomb's about to detonate!" His panic was enough to compel the people to do so.

    "I've got it!" Melchior yelled, holding up the bomb and rearing his arm back to throw it. As if he was throwing a Mud Bomb, he hurled the not-at-all-muddy bomb as far away from them as possible.

    He and all who were looking on saw the splash in the canal as the object landed in the water. Everyone braced themselves for what was to come.

    00:02

    00:01

    00:00


    KA-BOOOOOOOOM!


    The noise was deafening. Equally as forceful was the massive deluge of water that was thrown in all directions from the explosion. Many of the spectators were drenched, and a number of the nearby boats suffered some damage. Others were snapped loose from their moorings. The buildings nearby were drenched too, with a number of windows broken. As they looked upon the scene, Kallias and Melchior silently prayed that no one in those houses had stayed home.

    "...Whew," Kallias breathed, with slight relief. "Wasn't expecting a dousing like that when I got up this morning."

    "Is anyone injured?" Melchior asked.

    The crowd looked around them. Apart from ringing ears from the explosion, there looked to be few, if any, physical injuries. Thankfully, there were no Fire-types in the small crowd of people hit by the water, as they could have been grievously hurt. But there was no instance of this - the crowd looked more disturbed than hurt.

    "...No. I think we're alright for the most part," a nearby Skiploom replied, wringing the water out of their foliage.

    Thank goodness for that, Melchior silently thanked.

    "But what was that?" exclaimed an Aromatisse. "Why did you throw a bomb into the canal?"

    "Yes…that is our question too." Looking over, Team Marshwood saw a number of knights making their way over to them, no doubt having heard the explosion. They were led by a stolid-looking blue Meowstic. "Would you care to explain your actions, Team Marshwood?"

    "...Gladly," Kallias replied. "We do apologise for the disturbance. But that bomb over there that just blew up was originally meant to detonate under the stage where Tsar Kliment was giving his speech. If it had happened there, many more lives would have been at risk, and he and the other members of the royal family would almost certainly have been killed. And possibly many more, too."

    "Hm…Is that so?" The Meowstic, as well as the collected crowd, were surprised to hear this news.

    "It is. Marshal Yuliya and Marshal Branislav can back us up on this," Melchior replied.

    "...I see. Well…if this is true, then a major crisis may have been averted," the Meowstic knight surmised. "I thank you in advance once I affirm this for myself."

    "Yeah! Three cheers to Team Marshwood!" cheered an onlooker, and the rest of the gathered folk gave similar noises of gratitude.

    "That being said, that bomb was likely to have caused structural damage to the buildings and this bridge. I must ask that everyone stay off this bridge until we have confirmed its safety," requested the blue cat. "Men, start investigating right away."

    "Yes, Lieutenant Rafail!" saluted a Politoed knight, as he and his fellow knights gathered to investigate the bridge. Kallias and Melchior had stepped off it to allow the knights to carry out their assessment.

    "...A bomb, huh?" Melchior remarked. "Those people changed tact quickly. From poison to bombs…whatever next?"

    "I don't know. But…" Kallias happened to look off to the side, and he drifted off course from the conversation.

    This was due to movement from the corner of his eye catching his attention.

    And what he had seen had made him go rigid.

    A black-and-white shape seemed to flash by the edge of one of the nearby alleys. It might have been difficult to see behind the crowds of people, but Kallias happened to spot it.

    This wasn't just any black-and-white shape, though. It looked familiar - distinctly familiar - and Kallias's lips pursed as he realised what, or who, he was looking at.

    Is that who I think it is…? Kallias fist clenched. If it is, then…we have a score to settle.

    "Kallias?" Melchior said. "What's up?"

    "...Melchior," the Sceptile began. We need to head that way." He pointed to the direction in which he saw the figure, who he had caught sight of again and noticed was beginning to move away from them. If we are to apprehend him, then we need to act fast.

    "That way? Why?"

    "An old colleague's made his reappearance," Kallias replied curtly, holding back a snarl. The tone of his voice told Melchior all he needed to know.

    "Hinnerk?! He's here?"

    "Yes! And we need to catch him now!" Kallias turned in the intended direction. "Even if he might not be involved with today's events, I haven't forgotten about his actions a week ago!"

    "...Nor have I." A determined expression crossed Melchior's face. "Come on, Kallias. Let's go."

    And so they ran off towards where Kallias saw him. They saw a black-and-white shape in the distance; however, it occurred to them that the stance of the Pokémon seemed to be bipedal as opposed to the quadrupedal stance of Linoone. For a moment, the duo wondered if they had the wrong person, but they quickly dismissed that thought.

    Hinnerk could very well have evolved into an Obstagoon. This would be something of a difficulty for them in the case of combat, due to his tougher strength. But that didn't deter them. He needs to answer for his crimes.

    They reached a fork in the road. Hinnerk went down the left path, and was pursued by Team Marshwood.

    "Get back here, Hinnerk!" shouted Kallias, before making a dash down that street. "You need to answer for what you've done!"

    The chase went on, down a number of winding streets, until eventually the two of them arrived at the entrance to an ancient looking building. This was the Irian Arena, a known landmark within Iria which in older times hosted combat events, typically to recognise someone as a potential marshal in a special ceremony put on in olden times. However, new systems put in place by subsequent tsars eventually saw the obsolescence of this, and so the arena had no use for this anymore. It was kept in place, though, due to the will of those who liked its iconic look, including successive tsars and influential Selenian lords. While not quite matching up to magnificent monuments of similar stature in the East, it was well-regarded nonetheless, and still held events from time to time.

    It was normally off limits to the public. But a lawbreaker like Hinnerk had no regard for such things, and went into the arena. Kallias, intent to chase him down, ignored this too, and chased after the rogue. And a few seconds afterward, Melchior entered the old building, following after his partner.

    They soon got to the central arena. There was only one person in there, who was panting slightly from all the running he had to do.

    "...Damn you two," hissed Hinnerk, now an Obstagoon. "You're always finding some way to ruin my day. And it looks like today won't be any different."



    Notes

    And a cliffhanger. Glad to get this one done - I was stuck on where exactly to take it for a while.

    Kliment's speech is loosely based on the Accession Day message given by Queen Elizabeth II for her Platinum Jubilee. (Also, RIP Liz - thanks for living long enough for us to make jokes and memes about you being immortal.)

    My train of thought regarding this Special Episode ended up contradicting some points I made up earlier in the story about this period in time. So I've gone back and altered some lines around this in previous chapters, now that I have a clearer picture of what happened seven years ago.

    One more part to this Special Episode. Stay tuned!
     
    Last edited:
    Special Episode 1: Seven Years Ago - Part 4 (Jubilant Showdown)
  • Arukona

    A Scribe Penning His Brainworms
    Location
    Ardalion
    Pronouns
    He/him
    Partners
    1. aggron
    2. sceptile
    Before we begin, I must state that there is a Trigger Warning for a panic attack in this chapter. It happens near the end of the chapter, in the scene after the flashback is over. A heads up for those who don't like that sort of thing.

    Now, on with the show.




    Special Episode 1
    Seven Years Ago
    Part 4 - Jubilant Showdown

    The arena was normally off limits to the public. But a lawbreaker like Hinnerk had no regard for such things, and went into the arena. Kallias, intent to chase him down, ignored this too, and chased after the rogue. And a few seconds afterward, Melchior entered the old building, following after his partner.

    They soon got to the central arena. There was only one person in there, who was panting slightly from all the running he had to do.


    "...Damn you two," hissed Hinnerk, the Obstagoon. "You're always finding some way to ruin my day. And it looks like today won't be any different."

    "Of course it won't," Kallias replied. "Justice never rests, even on days like this."

    "Besides…it's not like we like to leave loose ends," Melchior added. "Especially when it's someone who colluded with criminals and told them to kill our friends."

    "Hey, I never said that!" Hinnerk defended. "I only told them you knew what they were doing. I never told them to kill anyone. …Even if I couldn't stand that ball of hair…"

    "That doesn't matter," Kallias returned. "You're a criminal, Hinnerk! All while being a member of a Guild that pledges itself against that very thing!"

    "...Are you really with them?" Melchior inquired. "Are you aligned with the people that tried to poison Iria's wells, as well as try to assassinate Tsar Kliment today?"

    "...You really want me locked up, don't you?" Hinnerk scoffed. "...You know, I never really cared about what they did. Why should I? They paid me good money, far better than anything in the Guild, just to get materials for stuff. Arcean orchids, Nagorian yew, explosive materials…that's not my business what they do with them. As long as I get paid, I really don't give a shit.

    "But you're a threat to me earning those sweet tons of cash. And I know something else, too. This lot wants you dead for foiling their plans. And you know what? Since we think enough alike, me and them…I'd be happy to help them." His teeth bared with aggression.

    "...You've crossed the Ferax now, Hinnerk." Kallias's voice was laced with contempt. "First complicit with murder, and now willing to carry it out. …Deplorable. Your lack of morals is appalling."

    "...Tch," the Obstagoon spat. "You should've been blown up back there. Then I'd never have to hear the shit that comes out of your mouths again."

    "Well, too bad!" Kallias shot back. "We lived to tell the tale. And now you're going to answer for your crimes!"

    "You're not gonna win, Kallias!" yelled Hinnerk. "I've got a lot stronger with evolution. I'll crush you!"

    "Well then. Let's see if your claws can match your tongue!"

    The Sceptile saw no point in delaying combat any further, and so leapt towards Hinnerk, Leaf Blades at the ready. He intended to deal a Ferned Cross Slash to him. However…

    Hinnerk suddenly let off a deafening yell, with his arms crossed in an X shape.

    "Agh!" Kallias was momentarily distracted by his opponent's Obstruct, and that provided Hinnerk the perfect opportunity to strike. Dark energy coated his claws, and he lunged with a Night Slash, striking Kallias across his side.

    "Kallias!" Melchior cried, and immediately sought retaliation. He threw a Mud Bomb at Hinnerk, and luckily, it struck.

    "Curse you!" Hinnerk growled, as he was covered in mud.

    "Thanks for the save," Kallias called to Melchior.

    "No problem." Melchior turned his attention to Hinnerk, who was now giving the duo a glare for the books.

    "...Tch. You always have to have each other's back, don't you?" he scoffed.

    "Of course we do. That's the basic function of a mercenary team," Kallias said. "Perhaps you would have learned that if you believed in the way of the mercenary."

    "Fuck that!" yelled Hinnerk. "You guys treated me like crap! I deserved much better than the shit position you all gave me! Bronze Rank, after all the stuff I did! Meanwhile, you have Master Rank! If that's not nepotism, then I don't know what is!"

    "...So that's your excuse? …Typical." Kallias shook his head in disgust. "You put no effort into your work. You were rude to your clients. You were equally as rude to your comrades. You were a nuisance to work with. You never respected your peers in the Guild. At the end of the day, all you cared about was money. No wonder you never climbed the ladder of Ranks far. The fact you even got Bronze Rank was a shock to us all. …Of course someone of your nature would turn to crime. Your collaboration with these outlaws nearly killed a man and turned another into a murderer. These are the same people that planned what is in essence a mass murder. …It cannot be put into words how reprehensible your conduct has been. Don't for one minute pretend you're the victim here! You're a vile aggressor, Hinnerk! And it's high time we put an end to your trickery!"

    With this, he returned to the fighting, with another Ferned Cross Slash at the ready. Hinnerk retaliated with Night Slash, in an attempt to block Kallias's slashes. However, the Sceptile was too swift for him, and managed to score a deep cut along his side.

    "Argh!" Hinnerk winced. "Take this, you bastard!" He attempted to retaliate with another Night Slash, but Kallias blocked the attack and leapt back. This angered the Obstagoon, who ran forward to try and catch up with him.

    However, in his haste, he'd forgotten about Melchior.

    This became apparent to him when the Swampert, after having hidden underground, suddenly burst out and struck Hinnerk across his torso, knocking him backwards.

    "Damn you both! You're really starting to piss me off!" snarled the Obstagoon, baring his teeth in anger. As he spoke, a steam-like aura began to cloud him, and he gave them a menacing look, daring them to attack.

    However, both men knew immediately what this move was.

    "Revenge," Kallias muttered in annoyance. "He wants to use our power against us."

    "We have to find a way around, or wait him out," Melchior said. "What do we do, Kallias?"

    "...Attack him anyway. It's not a problem if he can't land a hit," the Sceptile said, with a joking expression. "Don't worry, Melchior. I have your back."

    "...I suppose I can manage that," the Swampert decided, feeling reassured by his partner's words. He readied a Mud Bomb, and lobbed it at Hinnerk. It hit him square on, drenching him with more mud. But the Obstagoon remained in his stance, his piercing angry glare remaining in place.

    He additionally shot out Muddy Water at him. Kallias made sure to dodge out of the way so he wouldn't be drenched alongside their foe.

    Finally, he threw another Mud Bomb. After this attack landed, Hinnerk finally acted.

    "Take this!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, lunging for Melchior. The Swampert was about to dodge out of the way, bracing himself for the Obstagoon to land his deadly Revenge attack. But as it turned out…he didn't have to, because of what his partner threw at Hinnerk while the latter was distracted with unleashing his rage.

    It was a stun seed, and it stopped Hinnerk clean in his tracks.

    "Aargh!" he cried out. "A stun seed?! No! No! You pieces of shit!"

    "...You played right into our hands," Kallias said, with a degree of satisfaction. "And now you'll see just how much your mistake cost you."

    "Yes. Your crimes stop here, Hinnerk," Melchior said, before he looked over at his partner, opposite him. "It's time we ended this You ready, Kallias?"

    "...I couldn't be more ready," the Sceptile returned. "Let's dance, Melchior!"

    And so the two began a special manoeuvre that they reserved for moments like this, when their opponents were cornered like this.

    Melchior readied two Mud Bombs in his hands, and threw one of them at Hinnerk. Once that attack landed, Kallias leapt up into the air. Then Melchior threw his other Mud Bomb, and while his opponent was blinded by the mud, Kallias landed in front of him and slashed with his Leaf Blades.

    That in itself was a combo that worked for them in defeating enemies. But they weren't done yet.

    Melchior then burrowed underground with Dig. Kallias remained above ground, and slashed at his opponents. This time, though, he cycled through each of his combo attacks: Ferned Cross Slash, Blackthorn Cross Slash, and Belladonna Cross Slash, and cut X's for days in his attacks on Hinnerk. He finished this combo with a standard Leaf Blade cut, and threw Hinnerk back with that attack.

    Then, where the Obstagoon ended up, Melchior suddenly burst out of the ground, intending to make a big leap upwards. He managed to get in an uppercut as he jumped up, and mid air, he conjured a Mud Bomb and threw it downwards at Hinnerk.

    That was a foe-ending combo for them. Rain of Mud and Slashes was the name Kallias had given it. They didn't use it a huge amount, given that it required set-up and for their opponent to be in the right position to carry it out. It was typically carried out in the audience of others, who could see Team Marshwood's teamwork for themselves.

    As for the duo, they loved doing it. Thus, when the time was right, they relished carrying it out. And this time was no less satisfying than the previous occasion.

    Especially when their opponent was someone as despicable as Hinnerk, who sold his soul as a mercenary to the criminal underworld.

    The Obstagoon had been hit hard by the pair's attacks, and couldn't muster any form of counterattack. He lay in the dirt, fur covered in mud, and snarling at Kallias and Melchior, who looked over at him to see if he still had energy left. To their luck, it seemed he had none. Despite him being evolved, he was nowhere near a match for the elite fighters that were Team Marshwood.

    "D-Damn you…" he cursed, curling his right fist in anger. "I'm…I'm not done with you…"

    "Give it up, Hinnerk," Kallias reprimanded. "You lost, plain and simple. Now have some honour and admit defeat."

    "...I hate you, you piece of shit," Hinnerk snapped at Kallias. "And you too, you mudbather…" He directed this at Melchior.

    "It's all part of our job," the Swampert defended. "You spit in the name of justice, Hinnerk. At least now you'll get your comeuppance."

    "...Fuck you," Hinnerk snarled. "You and your stupid fucking sense of justice…"

    "Rage at us all you want," Kallias replied. "But you made the choices you did. You have no one to blame for this but yourself."

    "Yes." Melchior could only agree with his partner. "Look at Helena and Krim, and Nikita too. They were in the same boat as you - homeless and penniless, with nowhere else to go. Mitrofan gave them all another chance, and they took it to get out of their bad situations. Now they're all assets to the Guild."

    "You, though?" Kallias's tone was laced with scorn. "You haven't changed, Hinnerk. You were a rotten thief when you entered the Guild, and you're just as rotten now as you were then." He paused. "...No, pardon me. That's not right. You're worse than before."

    "Conspiring with outlaws who planned to poison the city's drinking waters, and then assassinate Tsar Kliment…which led to Dalibor being put into a coma." Melchior shook his head in revulsion. "That's a whole new level of low, Hinnerk. That's unthinkable."

    "...Since these people have committed treason, no doubt His Majesty will get involved with this," Kallias mentioned. "I wonder what he'd think about what you've been doing, affiliating with these people?"

    "...Tch," spat Hinnerk without a care. "...You know, for two of the most loved people in this gods-damned continent…you don't exactly cop on quickly, do you?"

    "...What are you saying, Hinnerk?" Kallias's eyes narrowed.

    "I told you earlier, you know," the Obstagoon returned. "You threw their plans all out of whack. That whole assassination was put together in a hurry when you exposed their plan to poison Iria's wells. And now you've foiled even that plan. …No wonder they want you dead. Didn't you think of that? And with you walking around town as normal…you've created a big target on both your heads."

    Team Marshwood would've normally let his words go in one ear and out the other. But this particular speech struck a chord of realisation within them.

    They didn't have long to dwell on this before Hinnerk spoke up again.

    "Oh, for fuck's sake, you're thick…Look at the stands, you blind idiots!"

    They listened to him, looking around them. And a feeling of terror rose within them when they saw what was there.

    A great horde of Pokémon began to appear in the audience. They came in all different shapes and sizes, and in a great number. At a glance around him, Kallias estimated at least thirty of them at minimum.

    "W-What…? But how?" he heard Melchior saying. "We would have noticed them…"

    "Must have been invisify orbs or psychic illusions or something like that," Kallias replied. "...Was this a trap of some sort? Did we play right into their hands?"

    "You bet your ass it was!" Hinnerk said, a sadistic smile now on his muzzle. "I knew once you saw me, you'd chase me down like a Braviary to a Buneary. So I brought you right where they want you. And now…you're in prime position to be cut down by them."

    As he was saying this, the Pokémon in the audience began to leap into the arena. The looks in their eyes spelled their intent quite clearly: they were after Kallias and Melchior.

    "Kill Team Marshwood!" a distinguished-looking Tangrowth yelled out. "Don't let them get away! Those bastards deserve to burn in hell for ruining our plans! For our vengeance and fury! Destroy them!"

    "Get ready, Kallias," Melchior said to his partner, readying a Mud Bomb. "Looks like we're in for an uphill battle here."

    "Mm." The Sceptile said nothing else as he conjured his Leaf Blades and leapt at his nearest enemy, a Raticate. It would've been a breeze as a one-on-one fight, but he found himself having to contend with the attacks of other Pokémon. And though he was agile, there were only so many attacks he could dodge.

    Melchior could at least weather the enemy's attacks better. As well as that, his Mud Bombs and especially his Muddy Water attacks could at least damage more enemies within range. And he also had the option of Counter, to deal enemy damage right back to them at a more powerful rate.

    All the same, despite the advantages they had and the experience they possessed as fighters, the numbers were not a factor that aided them. There were simply too many enemies to contend with. They had the stamina to endure them, but the attacks kept piling up, even the weak ones.

    Items only helped to a certain extent; they couldn't manage time to reach into the bag, for any time Kallias tried, the enemies would seize the opportunity and gang up on them. They were only so useful in this circumstance.

    The seed of doubt over victory began to blossom within Melchior when a Weepinbell launched a Giga Drain and struck him with it, draining energy from him.

    "Ack!" he winced, feeling the energy leave him. Damn… He looked around at the outlaws, and although he had felled at least six by this stage, many more still stared him down, and launched attacks at him. A Kabutops slashed at him with X-Scissor, and he managed to use Counter to deal a stronger attack back to the fossil Pokémon. However, he felt the sting of the long cut now on his right arm.

    Next to him, Kallias wasn't faring much better. He optimised a strategy of dodging and slashing, which worked somewhat well in the first while, managing to cut down a few outlaws with it. However, his agility, though admirable, had its limitations, and other Pokémon of a similar speed, like a Swellow that happened to be among the horde, managed to outspeed him and dealt an Aerial Ace to him. He kept going, but even so, victory still was far from guaranteed.

    His moment of doubt came when a Crobat lunged at him with a Cross Poison while he was preoccupied while using Blackthorn Cross Slash on a nearby Mismagius. It was an opening capitalised on, and it occurred to Kallias then, as he reeled from the sharp venomous X-shaped cut the four-winged bat had dealt to him, that he and Melchior were not in a good situation.

    The Swampert saw this, too. Despair crept up on him as he saw the amount of enemies he still had not yet taken down. Fifteen, at least, and that wasn't counting the enemies on Kallias' side.

    Off to the side, watching all of this, Hinnerk smirked as he watched Melchior and Kallias with their backs to each other as the outlaws closed in on them.

    "Hah!" he snickered delightfully. "Guess even heroes reach their limit eventually!"

    "...We're in trouble," Melchior breathed. "We're massively outnumbered. All these enemies…there's no way we can possibly overwhelm them all." He tried to keep the panic out of his voice, but the negative thoughts were proving to overpower his optimism in the moment.

    I can't fall here. The image of Paulina flashed in his mind. I have to make it! For her! That was the greatest thought keeping him going.

    "...Or…can we?"

    The Swampert blinked. He looked at his partner, and the Sceptile had a glint in his eye that was all too familiar to him.

    It meant he had a plan.

    "Kallias…surely you're not serious? Please don't joke at a time like this…"

    "Oh, I'm not joking," the gecko replied. "We can overcome this. …With the help of a gift Elvira and Zenobia gave me."

    He slashed at a nearby Simisage with a Belladonna Cross Slash. After he did this, he quickly reached into their bag and pulled out the small bag Zenobia had given him that morning.

    To think, we'll be saved because of a stroke of luck like that. …I'll definitely be thanking Zen and Elvira later.

    There were two seeds in the bag. He took them out of the bag and gave one to Melchior. The Swampert's eyes widened at what he saw.

    "An empowerment seed?! …W-With this, we can…!"

    "…Let's show them what we can really do, eh, partner?"

    Kallias's grin caused Melchior to give his partner a confident smile of his own.

    "Yes. Let's show them the power of Mega Evolution!"

    Both wasted no time in gulping down the seeds.

    And instantly, they felt the effects.

    Their bodies began to draw in light, before they were encased in two round crystals. Then those crystals broke apart, with two powerful shockwaves and bursts of light that made all of the Pokémon cover their eyes.

    When the light dissipated…quite the sight greeted the outlaws.

    Kallias and Melchior stood determined, having changed form. Kallias's head crests had grown, as had the bulbous seeds along his back. A plate of leaves formed at his chest and shoulders, and sharper leaves grew at his wrists. Perhaps the most noticeable change in him was his tail, which had grown exceptionally and developed a red stinger at the end, with its tip shaped like a conifer.

    Melchior, meanwhile, had undergone a huge shift of bulk. His upper body, especially his arms, became incredibly muscular, while his lower body became rather more squat. His gills grew in size too, while his head fins thickened and grew, as did his tailfin.

    They had undergone Mega Evolution, a phenomenon that certain Pokémon could access with the aid of an empowerment seed that gave them an immense amount of power. And as it so happened, Sceptile and Swampert were two species that could use the power of Mega Evolution for themselves.

    Their auras were dominating, and their changed presence struck fear into the hearts of the outlaws.

    "Crap! They've Mega Evolved!"

    "What do we do?! There's no way in hell we can take them on!"

    "They're legendary mercenaries on their own! With Mega Evolution on their side…they're practically invincible!"

    "Shut up, the lot of you!" the Tangrowth from before suddenly cried out. "They may have Mega Evolution, but we have the advantage of numbers! We can still overwhelm them!"

    "...Oh dear." Kallias shook his head. "Looks like someone didn't study tactics well enough. Well, let's not waste any more time. Let's see what wins out at the end of the day - you evildoers and your 'numbers', or us two with the power of Mega Evolution and justice on our side. Let's decide that, right here, right now!"

    With that declaration made, he leapt straight into combat - or rather sped straight into combat. Mega Evolution gave him a lot more agility, and he was like the blink of an eye as he leapt back into the fray and slashed with his Leaf Blades faster than any Ninjask. His strength was also amplified, and his blades were sharper and cut a lot finer than before. Combined with the agility and strength, his enemies soon realised what the combination of both of these meant. For a lot of them, they had no time at all to react before they were on the receiving end of a flurry of Ferned Cross Slashes from the Sceptile, and in an instant, a number of them were taken down.

    Enemies dealing with Melchior fared no better. Mega Evolution had amplified the volume of his Mud Bombs, as well as the force of their collision, and the Pokémon surrounding him were soon drenched from top to bottom in mud. He could then more effectively capitalise on Dig through this, creating a muddy tunnel that ended up causing the ground to experience liquefaction, destabilising the terrain below a number of Pokémon. This turned the ground into a quagmire of sorts, which in turn, made the enemies easy prey for Melchior when he shot out of the ground and slammed his huge arms down on his enemies, taking them down with the sheer power behind them.

    It was an awesome power the two possessed in that moment. And it felt amazing for both of them to possess it. It was just like standard evolution, only with a greater sense of euphoria in its wake.

    Team Marshwood were certainly feeling it as they fought.

    "I haven't felt such a high for ages!" Kallias exclaimed. As he slashed again at a nearby Houndoom with Ferned Cross Slash, he began to laugh at the ecstatic feeling of the Mega Evolution high. "Ahahaha! Ha ha ha ha! This is wonderful!"

    "Yeah…can't deny it's amazing." Melchior smiled, letting the exhilarating feeling wash over him. It's something else, being Mega Evolved. This power and energy…I truly feel like I can do anything.

    But still…one key downside to Mega Evolution weighed on his mind. "This won't last forever. We need to make short work of these outlaws," he warned.

    "Of course," Kallias acknowledged, still grinning with exhilaration. "Let's use this power and win the day!"

    And so they set to work cleaning out the many enemies that lay before them. The outlaws wished to use their numbers advantage to gang up on the mercenaries and make a dent in them. But while some did land hits on them, the adrenaline pulsing through Kallias and Melchior meant that they shrugged off any blows dealt to them, and punished the attackers with a devastating Cross Slash from Kallias, or an especially muddy Mud Bomb from Melchior. Attacking from long range wasn't a viable option either - Kallias typically intercepted any projectiles with a speedy dice of his Leaf Blades, or simply dodged out of the way with his considerable speed, and Melchior often hid underground and used the muddy quagmire he'd created to make getaways.

    Team Marshwood didn't use Mega Evolution too often; empowerment seeds were hard to come by, after all. And even then, they agreed that if they did have the means to use Mega Evolution, it would only be in extremis, against something they could not win without its aid. A situation like now, where they were heavily outnumbered and were struggling without it.

    But now that they had its power, they managed to turn the tide, and soon, the horde of outlaws were on the back foot. The Tangrowth who had previously asserted the advantage through numbers was now seeing this strategy crumble to pieces as more of his men fell to the sheer force of the duo.

    Damn it…damn it all to hell…

    Before long, Kallias and Melchior turned their attention to him.

    "So you're the leader of this bunch, are you?" Kallias interrogated. "Tell us. What exactly were you planning today? Were you behind the attack on Tsar Kliment? Did you plan to poison Iria's wells?"

    "...I do whatever divine will tells me to," the Tangrowth replied vaguely. "The streets are full of filth in this city, and it is necessary, in the eventual utopia to come, to rid such scum from the world. They gather for such pomp and ceremony, only for the worship of this false leader! He does not deserve that honour and glory! That tsar is a sham! A spreader of deceit! Ridding this world of him as well as his people will bring our plans one step closer to fruition!"

    "...What?" Melchior was baffled, as well as angry. "Why would you want to carry this out? If you succeeded, you would plunge Selenia into chaos and cause death on a massive scale not seen since the Famine two hundred years ago!"

    "It is all for the ultimate plan," the Tangrowth continued. "But you two stand in the way of that plan. You are an abscess upon this world, staining it with your corrupting ways! Upon His name, you will be vanquished and sent to the flames!"

    "...'Staining it with our corrupting ways? Look who's talking," Kallias riposted. "We won't give in to your intimidation! We won't allow to go through with your 'ultimate plan', whatever the hell it is!"

    "Ultimate plan?" Melchior frowned at the Tangrowth. "What is your ultimate plan? What do you hope to achieve by killing the tsar and his people?"

    "...That, you will find out in time." The Grass-type unfurled his vines, ready for combat. "But enough talk. I, Batraz, will be the one to send you to the afterlife!"

    He launched a series of vines at Team Marshwood. Instantly, Melchior grimaced. Power Whip…I need to avoid that. He got ready to use Dig to escape them, but he didn't need to do that; Kallias leapt in and slashed them to pieces.

    Melchior won't fare too well against him. I have to be the main offensive force here, he decided. But it looks like he hides behind his vines, this one. Just as that one had been cut away, more of his vines were making their way towards them. It would be slash and burn…except we have no fire. …Slashing away it is, then.

    Kallias's Leaf Blades cut away at the relentless vine onslaught. Eventually, he reached Batraz, and unleashed a Belladonna Cross Slash onto the bundle of vines.

    "Agh!" cried Batraz, watching the cut vines fall away. "...No worries. I'm not fazed by you! Poisonous Tendrils!" He launched another set of vines; however, this set were notably different, being a shade of violet. They slammed against Kallias, and he was thrown back.

    "...Urrrrgh," he groaned. He looked at his wound, and saw the purplish bruise left there by the attack. Then he felt his head begin to swim slightly. Crap…Poison? That must have been a Sludge Bomb combined with his Power Whip.

    He reached into the bag to take out a pecha berry. However, as he took out the item, ready to eat it, the vines suddenly grabbed the berry from him.

    "No, you don't!" Batraz called, squeezing the vines and causing the berry to burst into juice. "And while I'm at it…" Another horde of vines lunged forward.

    "No!" Kallias called out, reaching for his bag. However, he felt the poison eat at him, and flinched in pain. The distraction from this allowed the Tangrowth to bring it closer to him and make it unusable for him.

    "So that's your strategy," Melchior remarked, gazing at the bag ensnared in vines. "Using your vines for absolutely everything, and not just moves…"

    "Of course! And now that Fernblade Kallias has been poisoned, the clock ticks. All I have to do is stall you out!" the Tangrowth answered. In his next move, he launched vines into the ground. Energy was drawn through them, and he began to heal off the blow Kallias had dealt to him.

    But the Ingrain did more than that; it drained the excess water from the liquefacted ground that had been caused by Melchior's frequent usage of Dig. Thus, the Swampert's earlier strategy of destabilising the ground to make the enemy lose their balance wouldn't be a viable strategy here.

    "So he intends to play a stalling game," Kallias said. "...That's not good for us."

    "No. The Mega Evolution is going to run out any minute now," Melchior said. Though they still had its power, it would make the battle all the harder if they lost it. "We need to end this quickly."

    "Hmm…" Kallias pondered, slashing away at any vines that came close to them. "...I've an idea. Melchior, use Dig. Looking at his current position now…I think you can figure it out from there."

    "...Yes, I can," Melchior said, feeling a little better about matters. He punched a hole into the ground, making it muddy, before diving in.

    Meanwhile, above ground, Kallias slashed his way through the vines once again. He found his Ferned Cross Slashes tended to cut these ones sharper, so he utilised that move as he fought to get closer to Batraz and his bag.

    "You won't change anything, Fernblade Kallias," taunted the Tangrowth. "You will lose, and I will win!"

    "Really now? …I'd check underneath if I were you," advised the Sceptile.

    "Mud Bomber Melchior can't do a thing. He'll be dead with one Power Whip! Even with his Mega Evolution, he can't possibly - "

    At that moment, he felt movements on the ends of the vines that he had rooted into the earth to heal with Ingrain.

    "Th-That Mud Bomber! He - "

    The next moment, he felt tugs on the vines, before a force like nothing he'd felt before yanked the vines and him downwards.

    "Gaaaah!" he yelled out in shock. In surprise, he released the hold on a number of his vines, which included the ones that held Team Marshwood's bag.

    "And now your strategy's been uprooted, quite literally!" Kallias declared. "Good job, Melchior! Now let's finish this!"

    "Gladly!" Melchior said, as he surfaced and punched Batraz with one of his massive arms.

    "Ack! You - " The Tangrowth was thrown backwards from the force of the Swampert's punch. "Mud Bomber Melchior! I'll kill you!"

    He threw forward another bunch of vines in a Power Whip, and aimed to hit Melchior as hard as he could. The Swampert found himself unable to dodge in time, and faced the full force of the onslaught of vines.

    "Melchior!" Kallias cried out in worry for his partner. Grass-type moves were the ultimate bane of his partner. And a move like Power Whip would be deadly against him, especially against an enemy like Batraz. He had put them through the ringer, even when they were supercharged with Mega Evolution.

    Time seemed to stand still for a minute after Melchior took the attack. Then a voice broke the silence.

    "Counter!"

    One that brought relief to Kallias and horror to Batraz at the incoming attack from the Swampert.

    The Power Whip had dealt an especially huge blow to Melchior. But he hung on, and dealt that damage right back to the Tangrowth, with interest. Batraz stood no chance, and was flung across the arena to one of the far walls. Quickly, Team Marshwood caught up to him.

    He was reeling from the devastating counterattack. He could only barely manage to crane his head to look up at Team Marshwood, who were both staring him down, ready to stop him if he dared move.

    "...C-Curse you," he hissed. "Team Marshwood…may you be cursed until the end of your days! I may have been defeated today…but you will never win the greater victory. Once He returns…He will make you suffer an eternity of the worst torture hell has to offer. Mark my words…we will make you pay for the way you humiliated us today and these past two weeks!"

    "...'He'?" Melchior noted. "Who are you talking about? Who's 'He'?"

    "...You don't know. But you will know. You will know…when that day arrives…when He returns…"

    As it seemed, Batraz was on the verge of unconsciousness, and fell off it once he had said this.

    And just as soon as that happened, Kallias and Melchior felt their forms shift. Mega Evolution had run its course, and within a few seconds, they had reverted back to their original forms.

    Once they did, both fell to their knees in exhaustion.

    "Ow. Ow, that hurt," Melchior groaned in pain. "That Power Whip…ow, ow, ow…I'm gonna feel that tomorrow…"

    "This poison's getting to me," Kallias panted, feeling more laboured by the second now that his adrenaline was wearing off and the poison he was afflicted by began to resurge within him. "L-Let's patch ourselves up first and foremost…"

    "Agreed..."

    Kallias took out a heal seed and oran berry and ate them both. He then handed the bag to Melchior, who took out a sitrus berry. Once the two of them had regained their energy, they took a moment to take in all that had just happened.

    "...That Power Whip's going to leave a mark," he said, looking down at his arms. "Paulina's not gonna be happy…"

    "...She would worry anyway," Kallias said. "She'd worry about you even if you only got a paper cut."

    "That's Paulina, alright," Melchior murmured. His gaze turned to his back, and he was greeted by quite a sight.

    All the unconscious Pokémon they had taken down lay in front of them, in the ground of the arena. As well as that, the effects of Melchior's liquefaction were still evident by the muddy, waterlogged ground that remained in the area.

    "Wow…We really did all that, huh?" the Swampert remarked, slightly stunned they had managed to take down so many outlaws in the one fight. "How many did we take down?"

    "...Forty-seven," Kallias counted.

    "Forty-seven?" Melchior was surprised by that number. "That's…That's a lot."

    "Indeed. But that's the power of Mega Evolution for you. It really is something else, isn't it?"

    "Yeah. It is…"

    He looked over at the unconscious forms. Something nagged him at that moment. Something ate at him, telling him the mission wasn't over.

    Are we forgetting something?

    Then he realised with horror what it was. Or…who it was.

    A certain Obstagoon was missing from the area.

    "Hinnerk!" he cried out. He scanned the arena, but found no sign of the conniving raccoon. "Damn…He must have taken advantage of the commotion and gotten away!"

    "No! We're not letting him get away, after all of this!" Kallias yelled. "He can't have gotten far! Come on!"

    "...Alright," Melchior acknowledged, although a part of him just wanted to rest after the trial they had been put through. After today, he felt like he had run a marathon.

    Team Marshwood dashed out of the arena. Thankfully, they didn't have to run far, only to the outside of the arena.

    That was where Hinnerk was, being held by his neck in a vice grip by Mitrofan. Flanking him was Nikita, as well as Yuliya and a squadron of knights.

    "And just where do you think you're going?" Mitrofan demanded.

    "L-Let me go, you heap of rust!" Hinnerk hissed, his breathing constricted by the grip the Aggron had on him.

    "Not in a million years." Mitrofan was nothing short of furious. "I will not allow you to slip away after the way you've dragged the Guild's name through the mud with your actions. Do I need to remind you of your crimes these past two weeks? That isn't even counting your shady behaviour and all the possible offences you could've committed before all of this started happening!"

    "Oh, there he is," Kallias breathed. "Thank goodness for that. I feared he'd gotten away again."

    "...Upon my authority as Guildmaster, I won't allow that to happen," Mitrofan said, acknowledging the entrance of Team Marshwood onto the scene.

    "Team Marshwood…I'm glad you're okay," Yuliya said with relief. "Lieutenant Rafail told us everything about what happened down by the canal. …What happened in the arena?"

    "Long story short, we were led into a trap where those who were behind what's been happening in the past two weeks tried to kill us," Kallias explained. "Hinnerk was the bait for it. But we managed to overcome whatever they threw at us."

    "There are a number of those outlaws passed out in the arena," Melchior added. "You should probably round them up, Yuliya. There were forty-seven of them in there. They were being led by a Tangrowth, whose name…I can't quite remember. Batreaux? Something like that."

    "Understood. We shall get straight on that." Yuliya then turned to her knights. "We need more knights for this. Matvey, request backup from the nearest barracks. Tytus, make sure there is adequate space in the cells for these outlaws. By the looks of it, the gaolers are going to be quite busy in the coming days."

    "Yes, ma'am!" obliged the aforementioned soldiers, before going off to carry out their respective orders.

    "Take this scum with you while you're at it," Mitrofan said, not bothering to hide his ire. "Behind bars is where he belongs, and where he should have been all this time."

    "...My. So you've finally come around on Hinnerk, have you?" Kallias said. "The mask is off this time with him. …Granted, not that it was ever on in the first place."

    "...I made a mistake with him," Mitrofan admitted with regret. "He was the sort that I hoped would be reformed if shown a different path. I had just recruited Helena and Krim when they were homeless, and I brought in Nikita not long afterwards. Given the assets they have proven to be since, I had hoped Hinnerk would prove to be the same." He took this opportunity to glare at the Obstagoon. "…Alas, my generosity to you didn't culminate into anything, you ungrateful rat!"

    "I worked my ass off for you, and what did I get in return? Bronze Rank! Meanwhile, look at them!" Hinnerk pointed angrily at Team Marshwood. "All the way at the top at Ace Rank, all because you love favouritism! They - " He was cut off when Mitrofan gripped his neck tighter.

    "Don't even think about comparing yourself to them," Mitrofan cut in icily. "Kallias and Melchior have been nothing short of exceptional. They are Ace Rank and the pride of the Irian Guild, because they worked for it. From the day they first entered the Guild, they showed an eagerness to work regardless of whatever task was thrust their way. They worked themselves to the bone in their constant will to aid their clients with whatever task they needed. They've done this for fifteen years now. They understand the heart of what it means to a mercenary of the Irian Guild. And for that, they deserve the honours they've reaped.

    "You, though? You're nothing. You only sought out money, and were rude to nearly every client you met. Many teams you worked described you as a nuisance to work with. Was it any wonder you only received Bronze Rank? Even that was too generous, in retrospect!

    "...And to think I had hopes for you at one point." Mitrofan shook his head in disappointment and betrayed fury. "But you did not do as Helena, Krim and Nikita did. You took my kindness and spat it back in my face! You did nefarious dealings and aligned with wreckers who desired to throw this country into chaos! You're a disgrace! A stain on the Guild's reputation! You deserve nothing but the worst punishment His Majesty has to offer!"

    With that, he dropped him unceremoniously to the ground. The Obstagoon gasped for air, but in that moment, two knights went to apprehend him.

    "...You conspired with attempted assassins that plotted the death of His Majesty and his people," Yuliya sternly reprimanded. "You are under arrest for being an accomplice to treason."

    "Accomplice to treason?!" Hinnerk snarled. "Damn you! You can't do this to me!"

    "I should think that one of the highest ranking marshals in this country would know what charge she was levying," Kallias riposted. "At least you finally get your just deserts."

    "Shut up!" The Obstagoon glared daggers into Team Marshwood. "You did this to me! Damn you, Team Marshwood! Damn you! I hope you're miserable for the rest of your gods-damned lives!"

    "Take him away," Yuliya ordered. "We don't need to hear the insults of this enemy to our tsardom."

    "Of course, ma'am," one of the knights replied, and he and his partner carted Hinnerk away, who was still cursing Team Marshwood and yelling obscenities.

    "...Good riddance," was all Kallias could say to the scene before him.

    "I'm sorry you've had to put up with him for so long," Mitrofan apologised. "I gave him too many chances. I did see the signs, but I was reluctant to send him back to the streets. I despise the sight of homelessness, and I didn't want to add one more down-and-out to their ranks, especially one who I'd tried to rehabilitate."

    "...What's done is done, Mitt. The least we can do is move on from that mistake," Kallias said. "Next time, just think twice about who you take into the Guild."

    "...I understand. I'll be more careful in future." Mitrofan then turned to the arena, where Yuliya and her knights were heading into you. "Excuse me! Yuliya!" he called out to her.

    "What is it, Guildmaster Mitrofan?" she asked, turning around to him.

    "I would like to see this scene for myself. Maybe also help with the arrest of these men," the Aggron elaborated. "...Please. It's my way of making up for having one of my own men plot against His Majesty."

    "...Very well," Yuliya permitted. "You can come."

    "Thank you." Mitrofan turned back to Team Marshwood. "We have matters here covered. You two should return to your families and inform them of what happened here today. And Rufina as well."

    "...I suppose we can do that," Kallias replied. "Zenobia and Elvira will be worrying about me, no doubt."

    "Same with Paulina," Melchior added. "If everything's alright here…then we can retreat for now."

    "Be careful," Mitrofan warned. "Those outlaws may still be around. Keep a watchful eye, just in case."

    "Understood," Kallias acknowledged. "...We'll see you later, Mitrofan."

    "See you around." And with that, the Aggron headed with Nikita and Yuliya into the arena.

    "...Ahhh." The Sceptile let out a long sigh. "Boy…do we have quite the story to tell our loved ones."

    "You can say that again," Melchior commented. "Not gonna lie…I think I'll sleep for a week after what we went through today."

    "Yes. Today was definitely a victory," Kallias replied. Then he frowned, reconsidering his words. "Hmm…actually, maybe not entirely. It's a little bittersweet, in fact."

    "...What do you mean?"

    "Two main things, really. First was Team Hair Trigger. Those outlaws drove Spiridon to murder and put Dalibor in a coma. We might have defeated them today, but that scar remains. Two good friends of ours, put out of commission.

    "And then there's the second part. Our opponents…we're still no closer to figuring out just who they are."

    "...Mmm…That is true. We don't even have a name for these people." Melchior thought back to the opponents they had faced in the last two weeks. The way they were boiling a mysterious liquid in a cauldron, the way that Toxicroak spoke about a 'rise from the ashes', the way the Tangrowth talked about an 'ultimate plan', the way how they could organise numbers against them… "They're definitely an underground organisation of some sort. And they're planning something. They had an 'ultimate plan'."

    "An ultimate plan, eh?" Kallias pondered. "Hmm…there's still much we don't know. There are things at play here that we don't understand."

    "Yeah…" Melchior said.

    "...Melchior?"

    "Yes, Kallias?"

    "...I don't think that's the last we're going to see of them," the Sceptile opined. "I have an inkling they won't take this loss lying down. They spoke of a grand plan. …Somehow, I don't think they're going to simply disappear into the background. …Or if they do, they'll be plotting nefariously to further their aims, whatever they are."

    "You think so?" A worried look crossed Melchior's face.

    "It's just my opinion, of course. But we should look out for them in the future. They might well return with devastating plans just like today. …We should be vigilant should they return."

    "...Yes. We should."

    Before anything else could be said, a noisy growl reverberated throughout the air. Melchior looked at his partner, and saw that the noise had come from Kallias's stomach.

    "...Well, before we do any of that, we should get some food into us," the Sceptile said, somewhat sheepishly. "I'm starving. Haven't had a good meal since this morning."

    "...Me neither," Melchior seconded, realising how hungry he was as well. "...There might be street food we can get somewhere. That is, if they haven't shut down in panic."

    "Hopefully not. We can eat and share our story with the ladies and kids," Kallias suggested. "...Now let's find them, first and foremost. I recall them saying they would be around Tsarina Svetlana Square…"

    The two members of Team Marshwood started off, to reunite with their wives, and child in Kallias's case. But while they walked to their destination, Melchior couldn't help but think about his partner's warning.

    We might see them again? …Hmm…I hope not. But we can't discount that possibility.



    Seven years later…



    "And so in the coming days after that, we received personal thanks from House Ruslan for saving their lives," Melchior was saying. "Word got out about what we'd prevented, and gratitude was given to us wherever we went. It got to the point where we had to do our missions in the early morning to avoid the crowds. …Of course, we tried to get back to business as usual, Kallias and I. But Mitrofan wasn't having any of it. Given what we'd done for Selenia and the very status of the mercenary within it, coupled with the fact that we thwarted plans to mass murder the people in Iria and assassinate all of House Ruslan…Mitrofan believed we were worthy of the highest honour that a mercenary could get. That…was Grandmaster Rank."

    "Oh yeah…Elvira did say something about that," Arian recalled. "Very few mercenaries ever got that far."

    "That's true. In Selenia, it's only been given to one other group of mercenaries. They were Team Hope, the founders of the Irian Guild," Melchior elaborated. "Notably, Tsar Kliment approved of the notion, as did the rest of House Ruslan. We turned down some of the offerings he made to us - land and titles - as we felt that wasn't our thing, being involved with nobility. But Grandmaster Rank was a mercenary's honour. We agreed that the honour of Grandmaster Rank was one we could accept."

    "I heard from Dad that Mitrofan practically begged you to accept it and not be humble anymore," Elvira said, with a light giggle.

    "Did he now? …Begged is a bit of a strong word. But he definitely urged us," Melchior replied. "And…at the ceremony, we received that honour, and many attended it, to see us join Grandmaster Rank. It was a truly special occasion. It remains one of the greatest days I've ever had." A slight smile crossed his face as he closed his eyes, trying to remember and possibly recapture the glory of that day in his mind.

    "Perhaps…the last great day I ever had," he murmured. It wasn't quiet enough, though, that Team Elpis couldn't hear it.

    Arian sensed sadness in what he just said. Immediately, he couldn't help but be curious.

    "...The last great day? Melchior, what do you mean?"

    "..." The Swampert didn't seem willing to answer him at first. It was like the question hadn't gone through to him. However, notably, any trace of a smile had gone from his face. And within him, Arian detected a notable twinge of pain.

    Elvira, while not having the emotion sensing capabilities of her partner, saw Melchior's expression, and turned to her partner.

    "Leave it, Arian," she politely requested. "I think Melchior's recalled enough for one day."

    "...Oh, right," Arian mumbled, with slight regret once he gauged the mood in the room. Evidently, inquiring into what Melchior said was out of bounds for now. "Sorry. I didn't mean to be nosy…"

    "...It's alright, Arian," Melchior replied. "But Elvira's right. It was quite a story, what happened seven years ago. …There is a story about what happened afterward. But if I told you today, it would be going off topic from why seven years ago was such an important event. I think, honestly…there's a connection between back then and what happened today. I have a strong hunch that that underground organisation who devised the plots are still around today."

    "Hmm…maybe." A thought then came to Arian. "Hey, Melchior? Those people you mentioned…do you think they're the reason Mitrofan's suddenly done a 180 and became a tyrant? Do you think that maybe they're controlling him from behind the scenes?"

    "...I've considered that," the guildmaster said. "I don't know if that's the case. But…it's a possibility I'm willing to consider. And given what we know - or what we don't know - about Rufina and his children…it's definitely possible." He then looked wistfully off to the side, and mumbled something that Arian's sharp hearing managed to pick up on.

    "Especially given what happened to Paulina…"

    Paulina? His wife? It then occurred to Arian that he hadn't seen hide nor hair of the Swampert's wife. He opened his mouth to ask, but shut it, remembering what Elvira had told him a minute ago. No, Arian. You've asked enough for one day.

    "...We've been here for quite a while," Melchior said, as he rose from his chair. "We should check on how the Guild's doing. Hopefully, Axel and Natalie will be back with the ladder so that we can continue doing our missions."

    "Alright. Thanks for telling me all that, Melchior," Arian thanked, as he did the same, along with Elvira. "You answered a lot of my questions."

    "It was no trouble," Melchior returned. "...Before you go, Arian."

    "Yes?"

    "...Maybe one day I'll tell you what happened after Kallias and I reached Grandmaster Rank," the guildmaster lightly relented. "...But I'd rather not tell it today."

    "...That's fine. You don't have to tell it if you don't want to," the Riolu assured. "...It's okay, Melchior. I don't mind."

    "...Thank you for understanding," Melchior replied.

    "No problem." And with that, Arian departed, leaving Melchior on his own.

    The Swampert had intended to follow after the fledgling team. But he found himself lost within his own thoughts. All that he had told was bringing back memories from that time. Specifically, the people by his side back then.

    Kallias…the partner he once had. Mitrofan…the guildmaster he answered to, and one of his closest friends. And Paulina…the wife who he loved with all of his heart.

    Two were gone, and one had become his most major enemy.

    His heart sank at this fact, almost painfully. He gripped his desk, and began to hyperventilate.

    No, no, no…why, why, why? Why must Fate be so cruel? Why? Why?!

    Several images flashed through his mind, and voices echoed through his head.

    "...I'm sorry to have to give this to you, Mud Bomber Melchior," a Tropius mailmon apologised as he gave Melchior a black envelope.

    "We're not friends or even allies anymore," Mitrofan growled with contempt as he sat upon the tsar's throne. "If you won't side with me…then you're my enemy. It's as simple as that."

    "AAAAAAAAAAAH!" Kallias screamed as he fell off the collapsed rope bridge and into the rushing depths of the River Agrios below.


    His breathing grew faster, and all the while, he became more and more panicked. It's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fault. That thought kept dancing around in his head. On every occasion, he could've been there for them, or done better to save them from their respective fates.

    But he couldn't. A coward he was growing up, and a coward he would remain.

    A coward didn't deserve Grandmaster Rank. A coward doesn't deserve to be Guildmaster of the Irian Guild. And no one respects a coward.

    No one respects a coward.

    No one respects a coward.

    No one respects a coward.


    Spiralling deeper into the pit of despair, Melchior only felt those negative thoughts grip him more and more.

    But then he was reminded of a previous occasion when this happened, while Galen was with him in a training session.

    "Deep breaths, Guildmaster. When your mind's in a fluster, bringing peace to it is absolutely vital. Deep breathing helps immensely with that."

    The Medicham's advice was sound, and Melchior found it always helped to calm him down when he got like this. He took slow, deep breaths…and gradually, he felt the chaotic dark thoughts of before begin to recede.

    Good thing I have people like Galen to look out for me, he inwardly thanked. And…Arian, too. The Riolu's earlier words came back to him, assuring him he didn't have to relive that time again, in the aftermath of seven years ago.

    They look out for me. And as their Guildmaster, I need to look out for them, too. The Irian Guild is in my hands now. I need to live up to the legacy of what came before. For the mercenaries and Guild members in my stead…I must be a leader worth looking up to. With or without Kallias, Mitrofan or Paulina. I have to be strong…

    At that moment, the door knocked, snapping the Swampert from his thoughts.

    "Guildmaster?" Terran's voice came from behind the door. "Are you there?"

    "I am. Sorry about that. Got distracted by something," Melchior apologised. "I'll be outside now."

    And for Terran's sake, too…I can't let his faith in me be misplaced, he thought, as he headed to the door.





    Meanwhile…



    On the other side of Selenia, in a private room in Iria Castle, someone else was in a similar state of reminiscence.

    Mitrofan was in his bedroom, alone. Nikita was outside the room, keeping a watch for intruders as he always did. Normally, the two of them would have been elsewhere in the castle, observing reports from his marshals and knights.

    However, Mitrofan remained melancholic after his own reminiscence about Rufina a few days before, and wished to retreat from the eye of the knights for a while. Nikita trailed him, as he usually did, to make sure the Aggron was alright.

    Once in the room, he found himself in thought about seven years ago, a time when Rufina and his children were still with him. However, upon remembering that time, his thoughts drifted to them.

    An angry snarl crossed his face, and immediately, he made a request to Nikita: to bring him a certain item.

    An item from that time.

    "My…Team Marshwood certainly made a scene here," Yuliya remarked, slightly stunned at all of the fallen outlaws. Her troop of knights began to cuff them to be carted off.

    "...If I had to guess, they tapped into Mega Evolution to fell these opponents," Mitrofan presumed. "Zenobia told me she gave them empowerment seeds to use if they were in a tough spot. …I can't say I blame them for using them. They might be experienced, but they're not invincible."

    "Even still…I'm amazed they defeated this many foes, just the two of them," the marshal went on, as she, Mitrofan and Nikita surveyed the outlaw group. "Even a sizable troop would have trouble subduing this lot."

    "...It's a testament to who they are," Mitrofan said. "They are truly special. Undoubtedly the best mercenaries in the Irian Guild. I am honoured to have them. And today, they did exceptional work in preventing disaster from befalling our leader and our people."

    "...What should we do for them? Honours? A victory parade?"

    "...Knowing them, they'll just go back to business as usual. But…I want to reward them. I'll come up with something. Don't you worry about that."

    "...Goodness. Look there." Yuliya's gaze fell upon the unconscious Batraz. "That outlaw received quite the pummeling."

    "Definitely." From where they stood, the mess of vines that Tangrowth were looked even more unkempt from the tussle he'd had with Team Marshwood.

    What they could also see was two knights struggling to tie the Pokémon up to be carried away to the nearest holding set of holding cells, where all of the other outlaws were headed, too.


    "I'll go and help them," Yuliya decided, before heading off in that direction. Mitrofan was going to follow her, before an object on the ground caught his attention. He bent down to investigate it.

    It was a small, golden insignia of some sort. It had two triangular-shaped ends at either side of it, with a shape almost like a crescent moon in the centre where a gap existed within the crescent. It also had two pointed ends jutting downwards at either curve of the crescent.


    "What is it, Guildmaster?" Nikita asked.

    "...It's an emblem, by the looks of it," Mitrofan observed, tilting the object in his hand. "It belonged to the Tangrowth over there, if I had to guess, based on how near it is to him."

    "Do you think it belongs to these outlaws?" the Cubone wondered.

    "It has to be. And with it…we may have a clue as to who these people are." Mitrofan put in his satchel, before lowering his voice to a whisper. "But not a word about it to anyone, Nikita. We may have the key to the truth in our grasp."

    "...Okay, Guildmaster," Nikita promised.

    And now he held that object in his hand.

    Alas, it wasn't quite the key to the truth that he had hoped. But…based on later events, he could form a strong guess as to who those outlaws were that tried to poison Iria's wells and kill any who drank from them. And when that failed, the attempted assassination of Tsar Kliment. And when that plot was foiled…

    Mitrofan gripped the emblem in rage.

    "Damn them! Damn those deranged cultists! They made it personal…and they will pay for it."



    Notes

    I now want a Pokémon Warriors game after writing this chapter. Who knows? It might well happen…

    The Warriors games came to mind when I was making the sequence involving Kallias and Melchior's Mega Evolutions. I also had Project X Zone in mind when envisioning the combo they use to beat down Hinnerk.

    There are also nods to Zelda: Skyward Sword, as well as Xenoblade Chronicles in here. See if you can find them.

    Regarding the fic itself, it's hard to believe this work has been up here for a year already. Thanks for all your love and support! I appreciate it immensely.

    And that's the end of this Special Episode! Next time, it's back to Team Elpis and the present day.
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter 19 - Scouting Out Allies
  • Arukona

    A Scribe Penning His Brainworms
    Location
    Ardalion
    Pronouns
    He/him
    Partners
    1. aggron
    2. sceptile
    Chapter 19
    Scouting Out Allies

    "You're thinking too hard about this, Arian," Elvira said to him. "I know it's important that we find clues to these mysteries, but…you shouldn't do so at the cost of sleep."

    "I know, I know," Arian replied, before he let out a yawn. "But I have to. I might be able to understand it all…"

    The Riolu's curiosity had been sent into overdrive by the information Melchior had given him the other day about what happened seven years ago. As soon as he could, he drew up a flow chart based on what Melchior had told him and what he knew already. He hoped that through this, he would be able to be one step closer to figuring out the truth about the present.

    Alas…there were still too many unknowns, and the best he could conclude were unsubstantial guesses and conclusions that had already been made clear. Wondering about it all had cost him sleep too, hence why he was tired this morning as he got breakfast with Elvira.

    "Oi, what're ya bickerin' over, the two of ya?" Ishmael asked, who was walking by with a tray in hand. Axel and Lillian followed behind him carrying trays as well.

    "Can we sit with you?" Axel asked.

    "Of course," Elvira permitted. The three sat down opposite them at their table. "I was just telling Arian that he needs to get enough sleep if he wants to figure out the mysteries he's trying to find the answers to."

    "...But they're what's keeping me awake…" Arian replied sleepily.

    "Ya need a chesto, mate," Ishmael said. He handed the blue canine one of the aforementioned berries on his tray. Arian took it and ate it, soon feeling his sleepiness begin to wash away.

    "...Thanks, Ishmael," he said gratefully.

    "No prob," the Krokorok returned. "Anythin' for a mate." He dug into his food after saying this.

    "So…you were talking about mysteries?" Axel asked. "What sort of mysteries?"

    "Was that what you two and the Chief were talking about yesterday while Axel and Natalie were out together?" Lillian wondered.

    "Yes," Arian answered. "...I don't want to go into too much detail for Melchior's sake, but…it was to do with seven years ago, when they saved Tsar Kliment from being assassinated."

    "Oh yeah, I remember that," Lillian recalled. "...Ish and I were in Iria that day, actually."

    "Really?" Elvira was surprised to hear this.

    "Yup! We were sellin' trinkets and other doodahs like that with Lill's mum and dad," Ishmael added. "It was great. We made a lotta wonga that day."

    "Oh, but we weren't in danger at all," Lillian clarified. "We didn't see any action at all. We only knew something had happened when news got out about Team Marshwood."

    "...What about Axel?" wondered Arian. "You didn't mention him."

    "Oh, I was living with Mom and Dad at the time in Kamengrad," Axel answered. "But we were in Iria on that day, to see the festivities. That was a fun day."

    "Yeah…it was fun," Elvira reminisced. "I was there too, and I loved it, even if there were a bit too many people for my liking. …Then we found out what Dad and Melchior had gotten up to, and Dad told us all what happened in his brilliant way that he told stories."

    "...Yer old man must've been a great bloke," remarked Ishmael. "...'Course, heroes are always great as pas, aren't they…?"

    "Hm? What was that, Ishmael?" Arian asked.

    "Ah, nothin'. Don't worry yer noggin about it," the crocodile deflected. "'Sides…we're 'ere in the present. Let's tackle shit that we can actually do."

    "Yeah," Lillian agreed. "Let's go and see if Sifis has missions for us." And with that, the trio rose from their seats and headed to the main area.

    "...Aw man. Now I'm curious about what Ishmael meant back there," Arian moaned in dismay.

    "Everyone has secrets, Arian," Elvira said to him. "Don't chase them all down. Just focus on the ones you were told yesterday."

    "...Right." Arian got up from his seat. "Let's see what missions there are today."

    After returning the trays to Aldebrand, Team Elpis headed to the mission board where Team Sandstream already were, considering what mission to take for the day.

    "Hey, you two," Sifis greeted. "Got some new ones today for you." He laid out three requests in front of them, all of them Bronze Rank jobs. Two were item retrievals - but it was the third request that caught Arian's attention.

    Mercenaries of the Irian Guild, I need your help. A group of dastardly outlaws known as the Bibarel Brothers have taken up residence in Riverside Cave, and have been a nuisance to the citizens of nearby Rusalka. I am inclined to take them down, but I fear I cannot do it on my own. Could you please assist me?

    - Yumina (Furret)

    - Location: Riverside Cave (B8F)

    - Reward: 200P


    The request wasn't what piqued the Riolu's attention. It was the client's name and species.

    There's no way that's a coincidence, right? After all he had been told yesterday, and the chart he'd drawn up and the brainstorming he'd done last night, he was not willing to think otherwise.

    "We'll take this one," he said to Sifis.

    "That one?" Elvira peered at the request. "...I guess we can manage that. Now where's Riverside Cave…?"

    A map of Selenia was on the desk with various Mystery Dungeons pointed out in pins. A quick scan of it revealed where the Dungeon was - in the north of the tsardom, not far from the border with Alba.

    "There it is. In…" Arian squinted at the name of the oblast. It was spelt Czarno. "...How do you pronounce that?"

    "'Charno'," Elvira pronounced.

    "Czarno?" Lillian turned to them when they said that name. "...Funny you should mention that. Our mission's up there, too. In a place called Riverside Cave."

    "Riverside Cave?" Arian's ears pricked in surprise. "That's the same Mystery Dungeon we're headed to!"

    "Huh. What a coincidence," Axel said. "What's your mission?"

    "Helping a Furret deal with some outlaws on the eighth floor of the Dungeon," Elvira answered.

    "...Wait, what?" Ishmael blinked. "...'S the bloody same as wot we got."

    "...Really?" Arian's brow furrowed. "Can I see?" The Krokorok handed him the request paper.

    One of our companions, a Furret under the name Yumina, has gone to deal with outlaws in Riverside Cave, but she has not yet returned. I fear something may have happened to her. Could you mercenaries in the Irian Guild rescue her and bring her back to us?

    - Boleslav (Sirfetch'd)

    - Location: Riverside Cave (B8F)

    - Reward: 200P


    "That's weird," Lillian remarked, when comparing the two requests. "They're…so similar. Too similar."

    "They're more than similar," Elvira added. "They're demanding nearly the exact same thing for the exact same reward. They're pretty much the same request."

    "...Bit of a bloomer, innit?" remarked Ishmael. "...Well, their screw-up. Ain't our fault."

    "Hmm…" Arian muttered, half-listening to the conversation. Again, another detail stuck out to him; the name and species of the requester. Once again…it seemed too similar to a certain someone within Melchior's telling of seven years ago.

    I'm sure of it now. There's no way in hell this is a coincidence.

    "We should still do them," he insisted.

    "...Ya seem pretty sure of yerself, mate," Ishmael remarked. "Somethin' up?"

    "...I'll tell you later," Arian replied. "But I've a feeling about these clients. If we can meet them, then…" he trailed off.

    "...Seems like you might be on to something, Arian," Lillian observed. "...Well, I'm in on whatever it is you're thinking. We could go together to solve these requests and divide the spoils between us."

    "...Just like that one mission with Team Anima," the Riolu recalled. "And they sure saved us when we needed them. …Sure! I'm on board!"

    "So am I," Axel seconded.

    "I guess I am, too," Elvira seconded.

    "Good on ya, Arry an' El," Ishmael praised, smiling a toothy grin. "...Now then. Gotta get goin' to catch the ol' nanny."

    "...The old nanny?" Elvira looked puzzled. Her partner looked just as befuddled.

    "Oh, it's just one of Ish's speech quirks," Axel explained. "He means the boat."

    "A boat?" That, Arian wasn't expecting. "We get to travel on a boat?"





    Indeed, they did get to travel on a boat. A passenger ferry with a number of other passengers, specifically, that was being pulled by a Lapras. It ran up and down along the River Evor, transporting passengers to the towns along Selenia's lifeblood. At the river port, an hour or so from Kamengrad, Teams Elpis and Sandstream got on, with each team paying half the combined fare. There was no crush to get on, and the boat wasn't crowded.

    On the boat, they had time to kick back and relax. Ishmael and Lillian decided the best way to pass the time was to tease Axel over yesterday.

    "So how was your alone time with Natalie?" Lillian queried, a joking grin on her face. "Any sparks fly?"

    "No, nothing happened, Lill." By the sound of his tone, Axel wasn't in a mood to hear it. "We went to the carpenter's and asked him to make a ladder for the Guild. He made it. We brought it back to the Guild and helped to nail it in. …That's it. There's nothing else to talk about."

    "...Nah, not buyin' it, Ax," Ishmael dismissed. "We had a few hours. Yer tellin' me ya did nothin'? Sounds like yer hidin' somethin'."

    "I'm not!" Axel protested. "Stop it, you two!"

    "...Um, if I can maybe ask," Arian requested. All six eyes of Team Sandstream fell on him. "Did you and Natalie talk? …I'm not trying to get a rise out of you, Axel. Really."

    "...Well…we made small talk, I suppose," the Gligar recalled, relenting at the Riolu's honesty. "But…she's very shy. There was a lot of awkward silence between us."

    "...That sounds like Natalie, alright," Elvira said. "Maybe if Serafina was with her, she'd open up a bit more."

    "I kinda wish she did," Axel replied. "Because, you know…she is kinda nice when she does talk. And I like her voice and her smile…" He drifted off as he saw the grins of his partners. "Crap! No! I don't mean it like that!"

    "Oooh! Axel loves Natalie! Axel loves Natalie!" Lillian teased in a singsong voice.

    "I do not!" the Gligar cried.

    "Oh yeah, ya do! Bet ya 'n 'er were doin' smoochy stuff under a tree!" Ishmael cackled.

    "D-Damn it, Ish!" Axel was redder than a tamato berry. "Alright, you asked for it! If you don't shut up about me and Natalie, then I'm gonna tell Arian and Elvira about the decoy seed incident!"

    Both of them froze in an instant, before threatening looks crossed their faces.

    "No, Axel! Don't!" Lillian insisted.

    "Ya better not tell 'em!" Ishmael snapped.

    "Shut up, then, and I won't say anything!" Axel threatened.

    "...Wow, the tables turned pretty quickly there," Arian remarked with bemusement. He thought back to Axel's words. "...Decoy seed? Elvira, what's that?"

    "...A decoy seed causes whoever eats it to…" The Treecko considered her words. "...Become infatuated with the nearest Pokémon to them."

    "Infatuated? So…it's like a love potion?" guessed the Riolu.

    "Yes. Suppose I ate one right now. I would then fall into a trance where I would be love-struck with you," Elvira said. She then looked over at Ishmael and Lillian's faces, mixed with despair and embarrassment, and then over at Axel, whose grin was growing wider. "Wait a minute…" She looked back and forth between the Krokorok and the Sandslash. "Did…?"

    "Yep!" Axel wore a shit-eating grin as he revealed the bombshell. "Ish meant to give her a heal seed, but mixed the seeds up! Next thing, Lill's chasing him down, trying to kiss him all over!" He began to double over in laughter. "Aha ha ha ha ha! That was hilarious!"

    "Ya knobhead!" Ishmael looked furious. "I swear, I'll toss ya in the Evor!" He got up and lunged at the Gligar. However, Axel dodged out of the way.

    "You'll have to catch me, Ish! Nah na na na nah!" he taunted, before running down the ship with an angry crocodile at his heels.

    "...Boys will be boys." Lillian only shook her head with a bemused grin on her face. "Just like when we lived in Ardmacha…"

    "...Did that really happen?" Arian asked.

    "...Yes," the Sandslash admitted quietly. "But please, please, don't tell anyone else about it. It was so embarrassing…Ish didn't talk to me for a week after that happened. Even more embarrassing, because…we're cousins."

    "...Oh. Ohhh…Now I see why you're so embarrassed about it," Arian mumbled, feeling a tad guilty at finding their plight funny. "We'll keep it a secret." Then another thought came to him. "But maybe tone down the teasing with Axel? Just a bit?"

    "...I guess," Lillian accepted, with a small amount of reluctance.

    "...I have a question, Lillian," Elvira asked.

    "Shoot."

    "You and Ishmael and Axel…are you from Alba?"

    "...Alba? That's…the desert country up north, right?" Arian double checked.

    "Yes, it is," Lillian confirmed. "And yes, you're correct, Elvira. All of us in Team Sandstream are Alban, born and bred."

    "...Hm. I had a feeling," murmured Elvira.

    "Yeah, some clients can guess. We come from a village called Ardmacha, in southwest Alba. Not a huge distance from Selenia, actually. Ishmael and Axel and I, we were all born and raised there. And our parents were born and raised there, too. We were part of the Ó Ruairc clan, who own the land of Oiriall. We're all related in some way - Ish and I are direct cousins, whereas Axel's relation is more distant. But he was still family to us. A fellow clan member.

    "Our childhood was…aside from all the fighting training, it was mostly fun and games. You can kind of tell how closely-knit we are, the way the two boys are chasing each other." She glanced over at Ishmael, who ran past them still chasing a fleeing Axel. "Yeah…it was like that. One of us would play a prank on the other, then the other would chase them around the village while the third one of us watched it like it was some theatre performance."

    "That sounds rather fun," Elvira opined. "But…I wonder. How did you end up in Selenia?"

    "...Ah." Lillian looked away, not making eye contact with Team Elpis. "...In Ishmael's words, 'shit happened'. And…basically, because of that, we fled Alba and ended up in Selenia."

    Arian was about to inquire more, but remembered the previous evening's conversation with Melchior. Better keep my mouth shut. Lillian looks and feels like she doesn't want to talk about it. He could feel the melancholy emanating from the Sandslash. Still, it must have been something sad…

    "But enough moping around," Lillian said, dispelling that sadness. "Let's go break up the boys." She got up and marched over to them, with Arian and Elvira following behind her. The Elpis duo looked at each other, then shrugged their shoulders.

    Childhood bonds, huh?




    The boat made its stop at the riverside town of Rusalka. This was the main town of the Czarno oblast, situated at the confluence of the Evor and the Czarno River. Much trade took place here, receiving most of the trade that came down the Czarno River, and it was one of the more prosperous places in Selenia.

    The crowds of people were something of a blessing and a curse. The blessing was that the crowds of people allowed them to blend in. The curse was what Elvira reminded Arian of as they were about to disembark.

    "Remember that we're wanted," she said to him. "If one person recognises us from the wanted posters, then we're in trouble."

    "Right. Of course…" Arian said, peeved at being reminded of that inconvenient fact.

    "It gets worse," Elvira went on. "Every oblast in Selenia is ruled over by a house. Czarno's house is…House Kumiega. And their current leader, Metody, is one of Mitrofan's most loyal marshals."

    "Metody?" That name sounded familiar. "Didn't Serafina and Natalie mention encountering him in Iria? While we were unconscious?"

    "Yes. The same one."

    "...Well. That's a worry…"

    "Ain't gonna be a worry if we don't get busted," Ishmael said. "...Enough of that. Where's this Riverside Cave place?"

    As it turned out, that wasn't too hard to figure out. A path went along the Czarno River to the Mystery Dungeon in question, according to signposting and some locals. Before long, they had found the route, and strolled along the side of the river to reach it.

    "Well, there it is…" Arian looked at the cave mouth before him. "In we go."




    Riverside Cave

    B8F



    Riverside Cave wasn't too difficult a Mystery Dungeon, especially with the combined efforts of Teams Elpis and Sandstream. The cave was a mossy one with many puddles and lakes of water. Arian couldn't help but notice that Team Sandstream seemed to be uneasy about the latter, trying their hardest to stay away from those bodies of water. They're all Ground-type, he ruminated. Understandable, I suppose, why they'd want to stay away from water.

    They fought well, facing off against a variety of Pokémon including Cottonee, Carbink, Loudred, Duosion, Golbat, Ferroseed, Marill and Poliwhirl. There was some difficulty with Team Sandstream and fighting against types they were weak to, and at one point, Axel fainted from taking a Poliwhirl's Bubble Beam. However, a reviver seed saw to him back on his wings, and off the teams went again.

    Eventually, they reached the eighth floor. And immediately, they were thrust into a scene as they found themselves in a wide open room.

    "Hyuk hyuk hyuk! Try and catch us, lady!" taunted a Bibarel.

    "Oh, but you can't catch us!" added another Bibarel, nearly identical to the other one. "We're the Bibarel Brothers! Even that big cheese in town can't lay a paw on us!"

    They spoke obnoxiously, and Arian felt his skin crawl just listening to them.

    They weren't alone, though. A Furret was in the same room, gazing with exasperation at the two. However, the new arrivals gave her room to pause from the frustration she was going through.

    "You…Are you all from the Irian Guild?" she inquired.

    "Yes, we are," Elvira answered.

    "You're Yumina, right? Don't worry, we'll help you against these ruffians!" Arian added, before turning his attention to the two Bibarel bandits. "Now who wants to get it first?"

    "Aw, crud! You mean the lady had a backup plan?" moaned one of the Bibarel.

    "What're we gonna do, big bro?" the other Bibarel asked.

    "We do what we always do, lil' bro! Play tricks on 'em 'til they give up!" the big brother replied. "Let's split up! That'll get 'em!" They then ran off down the hallway.

    "Get back here!" Arian yelled, and was about ready to give chase.

    "Wait, Arian!" Elvira called to him. "...How about we split up to catch them both? Team Sandstream can go on one team, and us and Yumina on the other. We might be able to corner them that way."

    "...That would be the best strategy," Yumina expressed. "They do quite well against lone opponents. But they might not stand up to a group."

    "Sounds like a plan," Ishmael approved. "Come on! Let's get 'em!" He, Axel and Lillian followed the path the two Bibarel went down. Arian, Elvira and Yumina followed after them.

    "The path splits up ahead," the Furret informed. "Go down either path, and we'll go down the other!"

    "Gotcha!" Ishmael acknowledged. His team took the right path, and so Team Elpis and Yumina took the left.

    They soon happened upon a room. In it was one of the Bibarel.

    "Gah! You caught up too soon!" he whimpered.

    "Of course we did! Now prepare to be defeated!" Arian said. He wasted no time running for the

    Bibarel, charging a Force Palm, and striking his opponent.

    "Ngah!" cried out the Bibarel in pain. "Nope! No way! I need my big bro!" He therefore hightailed it and ran.

    "Oh no, you don't! You're not getting away!" Yumina called. "You two! We need to give chase!"

    "You don't need to tell me twice!" Arian returned, before running after the Bibarel.

    They came to another room, one with a grassy floor. In it, the outlaw had reunited with the other Bibarel, who was duking it out with Team Sandstream.

    "Oh, look! Lil' bro's here!" the older Bibarel proclaimed with relief. "Hyuk hyuk hyuk! You lot are gonna get it now!"

    "Really now? I'd think again," Lillian fired back. As she spoke, Ishmael took out a petrify orb and threw it at the Bibarel Brothers, freezing them in place.

    "That'll shut 'em up," the Krokorok said, smirking. "Right! Arry! El! Let's rip into 'em!"

    "Sure thing!" Arian replied. "Let's go, Elvira!" He started after the Bibarel nearest to him, and struck it with a Force Palm. Elvira moved in with a Giga Drain, and leeched the energy from the dazed Bibarel.

    "Excuse me…" Yumina then moved in. "Can I join in?"

    "Of course," Arian allowed, and he and Elvira stepped aside to allow her to attack. The Riolu watched her curiously. If my hunch is correct…then we might see some signs of experience here.

    Firstly, Yumina limbered up by moving from side to side quickly with a usage of Agility. Then she leapt towards the beaver with her claws at the ready.

    "Agile Swipes!" she yelled out as she rapidly slashed at her opponent in what appeared to be Fury Swipes influenced by Agility. The hits came out quick and fast, and the Bibarel had no time to react to them.

    "Ow! That hurt!" whined the Bibarel. "You're gonna pay, missy!" He charged towards her. However, to his surprise, Yumina charged at him too. He grinned initially; he was bulkier than her, and could easily overpower her, he thought.

    Suddenly, he tumbled to the ground, having tripped over something.

    "Oof!" he exclaimed. "What happened…?"

    "Grass Knot," Yumina proclaimed. "You should've watched your feet. And now you'll reap what you sowed." She turned to Team Elpis, and gave them a nod, as if to say "Go ahead."

    Arian and Elvira understood, and the two unleashed a Force Palm/Giga Drain combo that saw that brother taken down.

    "Well, that's that," said Arian, wiping his paws. Looking over at Team Sandstream, they saw a similar scene, with the other Bibarel defeated and Ishmael handing an oran berry to Axel. "...You guys okay?"

    "Yep," Lillian confirmed. "Axel took a Water Pulse to the face. That's the worst that happened. But really…he was annoying more than anything."

    "Hah! Looks like the ol' Up and Down combo still works!" Ishmael declared proudly.

    "Yeah!" Axel yelled, and the two slapped their claws together.

    "Up and Down?" Elvira puzzled. "What's that?"

    "It's a combo the two of them came up with," Lillian informed. "Ishmael uses Dig to push the opponent upwards, and Axel leaps up and uses Aerial Ace, slamming them to the ground. They mostly used that to take down the Bibarel."

    "It's pretty cool! …Our idea's not perfect, though," Axel opined. "We should come up with something that involves Lillian at least."

    "Yeah…Don't want Lill bein' a third wheel," Ishmael replied. "It's about teamwork, innit? Ya gotta get all of yer lot involved in a special combo like that, I think."

    "Let's build on it when we get back to base," Lillian suggested. "Maybe we can ask the Chief for advice."

    "Hmm…" Arian was in thought at what Team Sandstream were saying. "We should come up with something like that, Elvira. A combo move to make us greater in sync."

    "...I suppose." Elvira sounded open to the idea. "Dad and Melchior had something similar."

    "Oh yeah…" Arian recalled, thinking back to Melchior's story the day before.

    "We'll try some things out when we're done with this mission. See what works," Elvira entertained. "But it'll be a while before we find something perfect. I know for a fact it took Dad and Melchior a while to perfect their combo. It'll be trial and error for the first while."

    "That's okay." Arian didn't seem hugely bothered. "We'll work it out."

    "So…you're all from the Irian Guild?" Yumina interjected.

    "...Oh! Um, yes," the Riolu answered, realising they'd forgotten about their client. "Sorry, Yumina. We nearly forgot about you."

    "It's no problem," Yumina said. "...I am Yumina. But you seem to know that already, given my request. …But I never got your names."

    "I am Elvira, and this is Arian," Elvira chose to introduce. "Together, we are Team Elpis."

    "I'm Ishmael, and this lot are Axel and Lillian," Ishmael followed up on his end. "We're Team Sandstream, and we'll help ya out with whatever ya want!"

    "A pleasure to meet you all. ...So you claim to be of the Irian Guild?" Yumina wondered.

    "That's right," Elvira answered. "We're underground at the minute because we're all wanted under Mitrofan's regime. But we still do all the jobs that the mercenaries of the old Irian Guild used to do. We've tried to keep the spirit of the old Guild within us, in standing for justice and seeing to the helping of those who request our aid."

    "It's also led by Mud Bomber Melchior!" Lillian added. "So it's led by someone who knows what he's doing."

    "Mud Bomber Melchior?" Yumina's interest was heightened all the more with the mention of that name. This, Arian happened to notice. "...If you all don't mind, I have a request for you."

    "And that is…?"

    "...I have a partner. Two of them, actually. I'd like to take you to them," the Furret explained. "There are…matters we wish to discuss with you."

    "Matters?" Axel sounded unsure. "...What do you want to talk about?"

    "...You will see. But I assure you - this isn't a trap," Yuliya made plain, seeing the look on the Gligar's face. "Far from it."

    "Well, if you say so…" Axel still wasn't fully convinced.

    "Let's get out of here first," Lillian suggested. "We shouldn't be having conversations like this when a feral could jump us."

    "Good idea," Arian agreed. He took out his badge, and walked over to Yumina. She, seemingly knowing of this procedure, placed her paw on the badge.

    Then they were all transported out of the Dungeon.




    The group of six walked back into town. Notably, though, before she entered Rusalka, Yumina took out a cloak and threw it over herself.

    "...Er, why ya doin' that?" Ishmael immediately questioned.

    "I'd rather not be recognised by others," the Furret reasoned. "It's only for a while, anyway, until we meet my companions."

    So she doesn't want to be seen in public? Arian thought. …Almost like she has an identity she needs to keep hidden from everyone else. I guess I was right. It really is her…

    They continued into the town, and made their way along one of the side streets to a more hidden part of town. This part of town looked a bit shabby - a contrast from the lively trading town it appeared on the surface. A number of towns seemed to have this side to them - both teams had travelled to these parts of towns to meet with clients to give them what they needed and accept payment from them.

    The group arrived at a back alley tavern, named The Swanna's Nest. A few patrons were seated outside, some eating an afternoon meal, but most getting in an afternoon drink. It was a nice day, and evidently, they wished to enjoy it.

    Not Yumina, though - she headed inside the building. It wasn't too lively inside, given it was the middle of the day and these places were usually more packed come evening. Some patrons were inside, though, and at the barstools, a Swanna served.

    At the far end, two figures stood - a Sirfetch'd and a Swoobat. Both looked up at the group, and did a double take once Yumina took off the cloak she was wearing.

    "Ah! There you are!" the Sirfetch'd pronounced. The first detail the group noticed was his accent. It sounded somewhat silver-spoon, implying he came from a wealthy background. This, Arian mentally added to his list of reasons to believe this wasn't just an ordinary Sirfetch'd.

    "Yes, I'm back, Boleslav," Yumina replied. "These mercenaries saved me in Riverside Cave. …Which reminds me." She turned back to Arian and Elvira. "I never did pay you." She dug into a satchel at her side, and brought out some coins. "Here you go."

    "Thanks," Arian replied, as he put them away in their own bag.

    "Hey, are you this Boleslav fellow?" Lillian questioned to the Sirfetch'd. "We did your mission. Could you pay us, please?"

    "...I beg your pardon? But Yumina has already paid you!" the bird knight protested.

    "No. We got two requests at the Guild," Axel argued. Next to him, Ishmael took out his team's request from Boleslav. Arian then took out Yumina's request. "Two different ones. See?"

    "...I told you I had that covered," Yumina told Boleslav. "Why did you send a second request?"

    "Why, to make doubly sure those mercenaries got wind of our mission, of course!" proclaimed the Sirfetch'd proudly. "You were the one that was eager to get them on our side!"

    "Yes, but now we have two requests to pay them for," the Furret reprimanded. "And money's not something I'd like to waste…" She turned to the mercs. "My apologies. There appears to have been a mix-up."

    "...Well, we ain't leavin' 'ere without pay," grumbled Ishmael. "Rather not 'ave dragged my arse 'ere for nothin'."

    "...How about we work out a compromise?" suggested the Swoobat, speaking for the first time this conversation. "We'll pay them 300P, and they can divide it between themselves. We don't have to pay 400P, and they can get most of their money's worth."

    "...If you insist, Maciej," grumbled Boleslav.

    "...Fine," accepted Ishmael. "Pay up, feather'ead. And don't get yer wires crossed with yer partner next time."

    "...Lectured by a mercenary…" The Sirfetch'd handed Ishmael 150P. "To think, this is what it's come to…"

    This comment didn't go amiss by Arian, who by now, was bursting to blow this secret open. And now that both parties were here in a place where not too many people were…now was an opportune time, he felt.

    "Right!" he interjected, drawing everyone's attention. "Now that we're all here, I have a question for both Yumina and Boleslav." He pronounced both of their names deliberately as a hint. This was effective; the expressions on both of them became more serious.

    "Now, don't worry," he assuaged. "If what I'm thinking is true, then we won't expose you. I bet we share a common goal, us in the Guild and you as…" He paused. "...You know what, forget it. I'll just ask.

    "Are you Marshal Yuliya - " He gestured to Yumina. " - And are you Marshal Branislav?" He gestured to Boleslav.

    Instantly, the two tensed upon hearing those names.

    "Y-You! …Where is your proof?!" 'Boleslav' instantly got defensive.

    "...Calm down," 'Yumina' immediately placated. "We were going to tell them anyway." She walked to a nearby booth table. Everyone gathered around, curious to what she would do next.

    She placed an insignia on the desk. A notable insignia that both Arian and Elvira recognised. It was similar to the ones the knights of Selenia wore.

    But this one was different. It was more colourful and distinguished, with some more strands to it, implying that its owner was high-ranking within the knights, or at least was.

    And indeed, someone of that calibre was in the same room as them.

    That famous Furret from more than five years ago spoke.

    "...You are correct. I am Yuliya Gerasimovna Lysagora, one of the loyal marshals that once served His Majesty Tsar Kliment VII."

    I knew it, Arian thought. I knew I wasn't imagining things.

    'Boleslav' then moved in, and placed his own insignia on the table. It was the exact same as Yuliya's.

    "And I," began the Sirfetch'd in a grandiose manner. "I am Branislav Erastovich Lada, among the most loyal of marshals that ever served His Majesty Tsar Kliment VII while he still lived and breathed among us." But he didn't stop there. "...I would rather that have been kept a surprise. How did you figure it out, boy?"

    "...Oh, um. I just guessed from the species," Arian hastily replied. He didn't have the heart to tell the duo that their names weren't exactly the best names to disguise themselves with.

    "...Hmm." Branislav didn't sound convinced. But he didn't inquire further.

    "And who're ya?" Ishmael asked the Swoobat, who remained behind the two marshals. "Ya 'aven't given yer name, mate."

    "I'm Maciej," introduced the Swoobat. "But I'm not a marshal. I'm just an aide to Marshal Branislav here. A friend these two picked up along the way."

    "Do not be humble, Maciej," Branislav replied. "It is thanks to your efforts that we have avoided detection from that dastardly Mitrofan all this time. I am grateful for it, too. If I were to be captured by that monster, I will almost certainly be put to death. Just like our good compatriot Trokhym was…"

    Trokhym…Arian recognised that name from Melchior's story. He was inwardly disappointed to learn that the Rillaboom was no longer around; it meant one less potential ally. But he didn't focus on this for now. Yuliya and Branislav were the more important ones to listen to right now.

    "As would I," Yuliya seconded, before shaking her head in dismay. "...How could it have come to this? How could the once right and just Mitrofan, Guildmaster of the Irian Guild, turn to assassination of our beloved monarch?"

    "It matters not how it happened," Branislav responded bitterly. "It matters what must be done. And there is no greater way we can avenge His Majesty's name by slaying that monster that sits upon his throne! Our nation rots under Mitrofan's rule, and he must be overthrown!"

    "Agreed," Yuliya seconded. "...But then we hit upon another problem. A Ruslan must be the one to become our next tsar. However…even if those rumours are true and Prince Leonid still lives…his whereabouts are unknown. We have no idea where he is or if he even still lives. And Svetlana too…" She seemed especially wistful at the mention of the lost princess.

    "And that is why we must strike now!" Branislav asserted. "We have organised underground forces. If we make a defiant stand now, then he will surely come out of the woodwork to lead our nation!"

    "But you don't know that! For all we know, Lord Leonid and Lady Svetlana could be locked up somewhere and won't be able to respond to that call!" Yuliya argued. "We need more forces, first and foremost! And more importantly, we need Prince Leonid himself! The presence of the last heir of House Ruslan would more than bolster our cause, if he's out there! But we don't even know if he's alive! We just don't know…"

    She let out a distressed sigh as she addressed the mercenaries, who watched this exchange with slight discomfort.

    "...I'm sorry," she apologised. "It's just…it's been a constant worry of mine over these five years; how Prince Leonid and Svetlana are, or whether they're even alive. I just want an answer…I don't want to kept in suspense any longer…" She wiped a tear from her eye. From the side, Branislav looked upon the Furret with an expression of slight disapproval.

    "...Well, um. We've been looking for Prince Leonid too," Arian interjected, drawing the attention of the two marshals.

    "You have?"

    "Yes. And…we have something. We still don't know where he is, but…" Arian trailed off, unsure if this would satisfy their demands. After all, it's still a mystery.

    "What is it, boy? Spit it out!" demanded Branislav. "This is our tsesarevich we speak of!"

    "...Prince Leonid did survive Mitrofan's coup, and fled with Svetlana to the East, where he's been sheltering in churches and trying to get help from Dresilia and Miletos. But apparently he hasn't had much success," Arian recalled, trying to remember what Pontifex Sansarn had said about the missing prince. "That was in the two years after Selenia was taken over by Mitrofan."

    "...How do you know of this?" Branislav interrogated. "Where is your proof? As you've surely realised by now, hearsay and truth can be quite hard to differentiate!"

    "...Er, um…" Arian stuttered briefly in the face of the Sirfetch'd's interrogation. Geez, he's fierce. What's his problem? Is it just that I'm a mercenary? Is that it? He recalled Melchior's tellings of Branislav's disdain and mockery of mercenaries. If he's acting like this…then it means he hasn't changed a bit.

    Luckily for the caught off guard Riolu, Elvira stepped in to answer for him.

    "This isn't hearsay," she refuted. "These are the words from none other than Pontifex Sansarn himself."

    "Pontifex?!" This, Branislav did not expect to hear. Yuliya and Maciej were similarly taken aback. "The holy leader of the Church of Arceus? The pontifex?" However, his shock soon turned to skepticism. "…Begging your pardon, but what business would His Holiness possibly have with mercenaries of all people?"

    This remark was one that the five mercenaries bristled at. Especially Arian, who felt his earlier conclusion was not a premature one. Elvira took a breath before replying.

    "It wasn't intentional. It was a chance encounter. We were in Iria a week ago, and we were nearly caught by Mitrofan and his forces. But…Pontifex Sansarn allowed us to shelter in Iria Cathedral, and managed to keep Mitrofan away from us. Not only that, but he gave us that information about Prince Leonid. As well as that, he promised to check church records in Padavonum to track him down, and let us know if he found anything. We haven't heard anything back yet, but…it's a promising sign, I think."

    "...A link to the pontifex…" Yuliya was stunned by what she heard. "...Once again, I find myself astounded at what the Irian Guild can achieve. That's why…I must propose something to you."

    "And that would be?" Arian wondered.

    "...We have heard rumours of the Irian Guild existing in the shadows, evading the notice of Mitrofan. If they were true, then it would be fantastic news, to have another ally by our side. So I listened closely for stories that involved mercenaries of the Irian Guild. One that especially caught my attention was the sightings in Iria a week ago. Two mercenary teams, successfully evading the Irian Knights and even Mitrofan himself. I knew that, somehow, the potential of the mercenaries that once existed remained. And so…I made contact through that mission I sent."

    "Oh…So it wasn't just taking care of those two outlaws?" Elvira said.

    "Correct. It was also to get in touch with you mercenaries of the Irian Guild, and to see your skills on display for myself," Yumina confirmed. "…I am glad my hopes weren't misplaced. You dealt with those outlaws swiftly and efficiently. And so I must make my plea.

    "We must ally." The Furret sounded almost pleading as she said this. "Please. Selenia has only been stagnant since Mitrofan took over. And we do not have enough resources to even think of overthrowing him. …But you all in the Irian Guild…you can make things happen. It was you who saved Tsar Kliment seven years ago. I know we in the knights have had our disagreements and rivalries with the Guild, but…there's no room for that now. We both have a common enemy. We stand a better chance if we're united."

    "...Yeah, we would," Arian agreed. "We could use the strength of you both to help us work to overthrow Mitrofan. We need to unite as one."

    "Yes. That would be for the best," Elvira agreed. "...What about you, Team Sandstream?" She turned to her Alban comrades.

    "...Sure." Ishmael's response, however, didn't sound as enthusiastic. "I'm all for it if Feather'ead didn't talk down to us like we're scum."

    "...What are you saying?" Branislav's eyes narrowed.

    "...Yeah, I have a bit of a problem with that, too," Arian concurred. "Melchior told me all about the kind of stuff you said to him, Kallias, and…most of the Guild, really. It wasn't exactly praise, was it?"

    "...Hmph," Branislav huffed discontentedly. "I'd rather you treated your elders with respect, boy."

    "Respect goes both ways, Branislav," the Riolu retaliated. "If you want us to respect you, you're gonna have to respect us as well. So please. We need to cooperate, and if you make bad remarks about us, then it'll never work."

    "...Arian has a point," Yuliya agreed. "We can't badmouth them now, Branislav. Not when we need their aid more than ever. It only fomented bad feelings between the knights and mercenaries seven years ago, and keeping it up won't do us any good."

    "...I think that would be the wise thing to do, Marshal," Maciej added.

    "Even you, Maciej?" Branislav uttered in dismay. He made a noise of reluctance, before coming up with a reply "...Very well, if you insist. I'll put my trust in you mercenaries."

    "Thank you, Branislav," Elvira replied, though she didn't put a huge amount of gratitude in it.

    "But!" the Sirfetch'd immediately proclaimed. "As long as you help us in our quest to overthrow Mitrofan. I will not be bogged down by wastes of time such as finding one's lost items. If it doesn't help us to this end, then leave it alone. That's - "

    "Branislav!" interrupted Yuliya. "You cannot simply ask them to abandon their duty. Besides, we're in no position to make demands of them. We're coming to them asking for help. We may have been powerful marshals once…but we're wanted outlaws now. …Fallen from grace, some would say."

    "That does not mean we cannot have honour in our demands!" Branislav refuted.

    "Throwing demands at the Guild is not honour!" the Furret criticised. "That's just selfish! We need to compromise. More to the point, you need to compromise. It's you that's been - "

    "Alright, enough, the both of you!" Maciej interjected, getting between the two former marshals. "You're not making your standing any better by arguing in front of the very people you want to make an agreement with. Stop bickering like kids, and do what's good for the nation. Y'know, what knights are actually supposed to do. Do you realise how infantile the two of you look right now?"

    "..." Neither knight responded. Both looked down in slight embarrassment and shame.

    "As far as I'm concerned, there's no problem at all with allying with the Guild," the Swoobat reasoned. "Especially now, when we can't exactly pick and choose our allies. Would it really kill you to team up with them? I mean, you're fine, Yuliya, because you like the Guild anyway. But Branislav…come on, man. Think of the people you're meant to be protecting. You have the same goals as the Guild. Team up with them! It's for the good of Selenia!"

    "...Fine then. I'll do it," Branislav agreed, swayed by Maciej's words. "No insults at all. I shall be like a child when their parents' friends are visiting. No bad words about the Irian Guild shall come out of this mouth while I am allies with you. …Is this acceptable?"

    "...S'pose it is," Ishmael replied. "But we're not the ones ya gotta talk to. Ya need to organise that with the Chief."

    "The Chief?" Yuliya wondered.

    "He means the Guildmaster," Elvira clarified. "Melchior, in other words. …I imagine he'll say yes. But you'll have to talk that through with him first."

    "Where would he be right now?" Branislav asked.

    "Where our Guild is located," Arian answered. "It's located in Kamengrad."

    "Kamengrad? I see…" murmured Yuliya. "...Well, could you guide us there?"

    "Sure. We're headed back there anyway," accepted the Riolu.

    "Then let us make haste! The sooner we make this alliance, the better," proclaimed Branislav. "Now off we go! To the boats we head!"

    He made his way out of the tavern, followed by Maciej. Yuliya moved to follow them, but stopped and turned back to the five mercenaries.

    "Thank you so much for doing this," she thanked. "I'm sorry you've had to witness Branislav and I arguing. I only found him recently myself…I had hoped he would be more open to accepting help from mercenaries. …A shame that bit of him hasn't changed.

    "But he's promised to respect you. …Let's just hope he can keep his promise." With that, the Furret followed after her fellow knight.

    "...How much you wanna bet he ain't gonna keep 'is promise?" Ishmael said to his partners.

    "100P," betted Axel.

    "Same," Lillian added. "Even I've heard about how much Branislav hates the Irian Guild. I bet he'll throw out something before we even get back to Kamengrad."

    "...Look, he might do that. But give him a chance, would you?" requested Elvira. "Having him by our side would be a great help. He wasn't a marshal for nothing."

    "...I getcha, El," Ishmael replied. "Just sayin' that we don't take kindly to digs. 'Specially from some stuck-up prat like 'im."

    "We'll trust him. For now," Axel added.

    "...Well, if we want him to trust us, we should probably catch up with him," Lillian suggested, getting ready to leave. "Come on, guys. Let's go."

    Teams Elpis and Sandstream walked out of the tavern, following after their new allies. They soon caught up with them, and went to the riverside, where all of the boats were. Maciej returned after a quick chat with one of the ticket masters at the booth where they were selling ferry tickets.

    "The next boat upriver leaves in half an hour," he informed the group. "We should go and get tickets."

    And so the group did that, standing in line and getting tickets for the eight of them. That took ten minutes, and so the group stood at the jetty next to where several boats were anchored. They hadn't planned to do anything, just watch the world go by while they waited for the river ferry to arrive.

    Twenty minutes passed. That turned into a half an hour. And then forty minutes.

    "...Strange. The boat's not usually this late," Yuliya noted. "Is there a delay?"

    "Oh, you haven't heard?" another voice chipped in, one that was taunting and teasing. "The boat's purposefully being held up so the passengers aboard don't come into contact with wanted filth like you all."

    "That voice…!" Maciej turned around, as did everyone else. And what they saw made them freeze.

    They were cornered by a horde of knights. And at the head of them…was a Floatzel, who was grinning like a Sharpedo with delight.

    "What luck! What a treat we've landed today! We have the ones who beat Hinnerk. But look what else we have! Alban scum…and two ex-marshals."




    Notes

    'Ol' Nanny' is rhyming slang. Nanny as in 'nanny goat'(or nanny Gogoat, in this world). As in boat.

    Ardmacha is a variation of Ard Mhacha, the Irish name for the town of Armagh, which was once a royal site in ancient Ireland. Oiriall is a variation of Oirialla or Oriel, a land in northeast Ireland in medieval times.

    Czarno is named for Czarnobog, the Polish spelling of Chernobog, the Slavic god of death and bad fates. Rusalka is named after a water entity from Slavic mythology with malice towards mankind.

    Bit of an unintended Fire Emblem reference with Yuliya's name. Yuliya's also the name of a princess in Mystery of the Emblem. Her Japanese name? Yumina.
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter 20 - Cornered
  • Arukona

    A Scribe Penning His Brainworms
    Location
    Ardalion
    Pronouns
    He/him
    Partners
    1. aggron
    2. sceptile
    Chapter 20
    Cornered

    "...Strange. The boat's not usually this late," Yuliya noted. "Has there been a delay?"

    "Oh, you haven't heard?" another voice chipped in, one that was taunting and teasing. "The boat's purposefully being held up so the passengers aboard don't come into contact with wanted filth like you all."

    "That voice…!" Maciej turned around, as did everyone else. And what they saw made them freeze.

    They were cornered by a horde of knights. And at the head of them…was a Floatzel, who was grinning like a Sharpedo with delight.


    "What luck! What a treat we've landed today! We have the ones who beat Hinnerk. But look what else we have! Alban scum…and two ex-marshals."

    Immediately, the tension heightened at the latter mention.

    "Ridiculous!" Branislav shouted, perhaps a bit too quickly and emphatically. "You have not a shred of proof! Your words are as empty as your morals, Kumiega scum!"

    "Oh? The righteous birdbrain's getting angry?" Metody smirked. "Must mean I'm doing something right."

    "Sly and conniving…" Yuliya's tone was laced with disgust. "As expected of a member of House Kumiega. The very people that tried to grave rob the body of Prince Kasimir!"

    "What? Grave robbing?" This was new to Arian. "They tried to rob the body of Prince Kasimir?" In truth, that had been another mystery to him when he was told there was another prince besides Leonid that was once the heir. What happened to him? he had wondered.

    "Yes. When our tsesarevich passed away six years ago, it could not have been a more tragic occasion. Right in the bloom of his youth, and when we all expected him to be as great a tsar as his father…" The Furret swallowed her sadness, before looking back at Metody with a furious look. "But a few days after he was buried, House Kumiega sent graverobbers to pilfer his body!"

    "We always knew you were disloyal blackguards," Branislav continued. "That incident proved it. Frankly, His Majesty's decision to execute you all and strip you of your noble status was perfectly just! And your claim that you intended to do a 'proper autopsy' on his body…Unconscionable! Cutting upon a Ruslan as if he were meat! The very thought is sickening!"

    "Hey now. We were only trying to find out what really happened," Metody defended. "And we were prevented from that because of some stupid thoughts from our tsar? Something strange was definitely going on with how Kasimir died. Our crown prince was rarely sick growing up, and yet all of a sudden, he catches this mysterious illness and dies in a few days? …Yeah, I'm not buying that. We in House Kumiega don't buy coincidences. And if His Majesty and your houses wouldn't allow us to hear the truth…then we would steal it from under their noses and expose it to the world, as it should have been done!"

    "...So you dared to commit treason, anyway," Branislav huffed. "It amounts to the same thing. Kumiega scum like you are without morals. The fact that you stand with the villain that slayed His Majesty is the greatest proof of all!"

    "...Villain, you say? Strong words, coming from a concealer of the truth," sneered Metody. "After all, my fellow marshal and your ex-lieutenant told me everything. About how you shut her up when she figured it out. About how you tried to force her discharge from the knights. About how you - "

    "Lies, lies, lies," the Sirfetch'd cut off. "Words from a treasonous rat are as empty as your conscience. And the same with that Nidoqueen! Never an honest soul, trying to subvert my command at every turn! Her words meant nothing then, and they mean nothing now!"

    "...Hah. It's interesting how the tables have turned with you and Ludmila," the Floatzel observed smugly. "Before Kliment kicked the bucket, you were among the highest ranked in the knights, while you tried to demote and oust her. But now…she's the one at the top. You, meanwhile? Nothing but a rag-ridden outlaw and a filthy traitor - that's all you are.

    "And by the end of this day…you won't be anything." Metody shifted to a battle stance. "I'll rip your life from you. The same with you, Yuliya, as well as you mercenary scum. Oh, Master Mitrofan will be delighted with me when we're done! You all made a mistake, meeting up here! Because now I know everything about where you mercenary scum have been hiding."

    "Wh-What?!" Arian cried, panicked. "How do you know?"

    "I have eyes and ears everywhere in Rusalka, little Arian," the Floatzel answered, pronouncing his name for all to hear, and in a slimy, taunting way that made the human shudder in annoyance. "You have no one to blame but yourself for letting slip that your little operation's in Kamengrad."

    Everyone affiliated with the Guild tensed, while the Riolu felt his stomach drop in despair.

    No, no, no, no, no…How could I have been so careless? I had to tell Yuliya and Branislav…but I didn't think Metody would catch wind of it. …Crap, crap, crap…!

    "Come on, men! Let's wipe out these traitors!" Metody rallied. "When we have them all wiped out, we'll have a massive banquet! We'll have a buffet upon their coffins!"

    "Sir, yes, sir!" Encouraged by their marshal's words, the knights got into battle stances.

    "...Oh dear," murmured Elvira. "This is going to be quite an uphill battle." She took a glance at the river. "And there's no ferry coming that we can escape to…"

    "...I have a plan," Maciej said. Everyone turned to him. "But I need you all to buy me time to get the plan in motion."

    "Of course, Maciej," Branislav obliged. "Will it get us out of this predicament?"

    "It will, provided Metody and his gang of knights don't complicate matters."

    "Then go. Anything to get us out of this," Elvira quietly urged.

    "Right." With that, the Swoobat made his move, flying out over the river and making his way further downstream.

    "After him!" Metody barked. "Don't let him get away!"

    "Yes, sir!" obliged a Pidgeotto, who flew after the escaping bat.

    "...Don't worry about him. Focus on your own battles," Branislav advised. "Maciej is no weakling. It will take more than a stray knight to take him down."

    "Understood," Yuliya replied.

    "...Get ready, ya lot," Ishmael whispered to his comrades. "If we kick his ass, we can get back to the Guild in time to warn 'em."

    "...I'm so sorry, everyone," Arian breathed. "I - "

    "Shush, Arry. Don't be thinkin' now. Just fight."

    "...Alright," the Riolu resolved, and focused for the fight that was to break out. It was seven of them versus at least twenty knights, including Metody himself.

    Still…I won't just bow down to him. I have to make up for that slip of the tongue I made. And what better way than to take down the one with that knowledge?

    Elvira made the first move, reaching into their bag, and throwing out a blast seed at the nearest opponent, a Miltank.

    "Arian! Go!"

    Arian then ran forward, and slammed a Force Palm into the Miltank.

    "Hey! Upstart!" the cow raged, ticked off by the drop they got on her. She turned her rage on the Riolu. "Time to put you in your place!" She reared her head back, and tried to land a Headbutt. Luckily, Arian saw the attack coming, and dodged out of the way in the nick of time. Looking back, he saw Elvira and Ishmael dealing with the Miltank knight. He had no time to react before being the target of a Heatmor's Fire Lash. Unfortunately, he wasn't quick enough to react, and was struck with a searing blow across his side.

    "Ouch!" he cried out. "That smarts…"

    "Course it did, laddie," snickered the Heatmor. "I'm a trained knight! Honed my skills day in, day out! …Now then. Will you come quietly?"

    "Like hell I will!" shouted Arian. "I'll never give in to you!" He readied his fists, and struck the Heatmor across his midsection with a Force Palm.

    "...Feisty wee'un, aren't ya?" the fire anteater commented. "You're a hard hitter. I can see why Ol' Mitt wants you dealt with. That kind of strength could prove to be a real nuisance some day. Gotta cut you down 'fore that happens." He moved in with his own counterattack. But before he could move in, he was intercepted by one of his fellows.

    "Off with you!" The commanding voice of Branislav rang out, and before he realised it, Arian saw the Sirfetch'd move in with his own move. The knight's leek slammed out a Brick Break attack, stopping the Heatmor cold in his tracks.

    "Argh!" he cried out. "Of all people, the birdbrain…"

    "If only you could as well as you could throw out derision, then you could easily defeat me!" Branislav proclaimed. "But alas not! Words and fighting skills are not one and the same with you!" He raised his leek blade again. "Now take this!" With a blade coated in darkness, he slashed at his opponent with a Night Slash, making short work of the Heatmor.

    "Damn you…" Those were his last words before he fell unconscious.

    "...Hmph. Mess with I, Marshal Branislav, and a punishment for the crass awaits!" the Sirfetch'd proclaimed.

    "...Er, thanks, Branislav," Arian thanked. Looking around, he saw enemies on all sides in front of him. "...But we still have more enemies to deal with."

    "I know, boy. And that's Marshal Branislav to you," Branislav haughtily corrected. "Now cover me. I must rain even more devastation upon these nefarious traitors!"

    "...Right. Sure," the Riolu muttered, not happy about the bird knight's condescension. He's an ally, Arian…just ignore him and do what he says, he told himself as he leapt back into fray, facing off against two knights - a Musharna and a Mr. Mime.

    Crap! I don't do well against either of them! Arian realised. But before he could reach for his items, a double Psybeam onslaught hit him square on.

    "Urgh…" he groaned dizzily. His vision became blurry and faded, and he fell to the ground.

    …But not long after, he immediately felt a seed being put in his mouth. Instinctively, he bit on it, and felt energy return. His consciousness returned, and he found Ishmael forcing him onto his feet.

    "Get up, mate," he urged. "Can't be losin' ya now."

    "Thanks, Ishmael," Arian said gratefully, as his focus returned. He saw Axel and Lillian move in to defend them against the Psychic-type duo, while Elvira was picking a fight with a Golduck that was duelling with Yuliya.

    Branislav wasn't engaged in combat. He looked to be carrying out a Swords Dance. Oh, that explains it, Arian theorised. He's getting ready to deal more damage later. …Fair enough. We can keep the enemies off him. He turned to face his nearest foe: a Lombre who looked at him with an unimpressed look.

    "You're the one that Master Mitrofan wants us to lock up?" he said. "...How the hell did Hinnerk lose to a shrimp like you?"

    "Why not fight and find out?" Arian challenged.

    "...Sure. But I doubt you'll measure up to me!" The Lombre inhaled, and from his mouth, bubbles blasted out towards Arian. The Riolu fought hard to avoid the Bubble Beam attack, but found himself having to retreat slightly, much to his annoyance. I need to get closer, not further away, he thought.

    Thankfully, the Lombre soon found his attention diverted, as a small but strong force launched a Slam attack into him.

    "What the hell?!" he cried, startled. Looking up, he saw Elvira standing between him and Arian.

    "Don't harass my partner," she threatened. "Otherwise you'll have to deal with me."

    "Thanks, Elvira," Arian said gratefully.

    "No problem," the Treecko returned. "Now let's defeat him, together!"

    "Yeah!"

    Arian leapt back into the fray with another Force Palm prepared. He ran forward, and struck the Lombre's side.

    "Agh!" hissed the Jolly Pokémon. That wasn't all he had to deal with, though. Elvira made her move, and used a Giga Drain to sap his energy.

    "Damn you! You're really beginning to piss me off!" yelled the Lombre.

    "...Strange. I thought you said a shrimp like me wouldn't be worth your time?" Arian taunted, adopting a satisfied smirk at disproving his opponent on what he had said earlier..

    "...Tch!" the Water/Grass-type spat. "Eat this!" He turned on Elvira, and readied his claws, before leaping forward, intent to deliver hell to her via Fury Swipes. Arian braced himself for the attack's landing…

    …But it never did. Thankfully, Elvira, seeing his retaliation, used Detect and dodged every Fury Swipe that came her way.

    "Wh-What in - " A vein visibly bulged in the Lombre's head. "Y-You little trickster!" He tried harder to hit her. However, it was to no avail.

    And he happened to forget she had a partner, who moved in to strike again with yet another Force Palm.

    "Don't forget me!" the Riolu interjected. "...Or wait, no. I'm just a little shrimp that couldn't possibly measure up to you. Don't mind me."

    "Will you ever shut up!?" the Lombre growled with annoyance.

    "It's you that needs to shut up," Elvira said from his other side. With no more words, she threw an iron thorn at him, which hit him square in the face.

    "...B-Bastards…" was all he said before falling unconscious.

    "...Whew," Arian breathed. He wanted to take a slightly longer rest. But one look around him told him this was not an option. While the number of knights had thinned slightly, there was still much more to go.

    And that's not even counting potential reinforcements, he realised. …Damn…are we in a tough spot?

    "Arian, Elvira." The two looked over to see Yuliya nearby. She had just finished off a Venomoth, and was gearing up to face yet more knights. "They won't let up anytime soon. I think…it would be wise to go for the commander."

    "That sounds like a plan," Elvira agreed.

    "But the commander…that's Metody," Arian pointed out. "One of Mitrofan's most loyal marshals…"

    "I know. But taking him down will put a big dent in this operation," the Furret reasoned. "And…you defeated Hinnerk. I know you have the potential to pull off a victory."

    "...We didn't defeat him without help," the Riolu whined. "We had Team Sandstream's help." Looking over, he could see Ishmael, Axel and Lillian engaged in combat with other knights, and weren't in a position to lend aid to them so easily. Meanwhile, Branislav had been cornered by another two knights. No one was in a position to help them.

    "I'll help you," Yuliya volunteered. "He's over there." She pointed to where the Floatzel was observing the fight from afar. "I'll help you clear a path to him."

    "Thanks, Yuliya," Arian replied.

    "Don't mention it." The Furret then turned her attention to their foes. Without a word, she dashed forward and slashed at her nearest opponent, a Greedent, with Fury Swipes. She had been in the midst of fighting the overweight squirrel, and that attack caused it to go down.

    "That's enough of that, girlie!" a Darmanitan called, getting into the fray. "Can't let someone like ya be takin' us down, can we?"

    "You're dealing with an ex-marshal here," Arian pointed out. "She's no one ordinary!"

    "...'Was' a marshal. Don't mean nothin' now!" the Darmanitan touted. "Shoulda stayed with playin' with dolls instead of tryin' to tussle with us in the big leagues!"

    "..." Yuliya said nothing, instead taking a deep breath. By the sound of it, as well as based on the scowl she was trying to suppress, there was no doubt some history here. While Arian had no hope of knowing the specifics, he could formulate a good guess. Undoubtedly, it was linked to the 'girlie' comments the Darmanitan was making.

    That's low. The Riolu found himself irked by the Fire-type's words. He looked over at his partner, and nodded wordlessly. Elvira knew what this meant; she dug into the bag, and threw out a blast seed at the Darmanitan. She threw it with meaning, too; she didn't like his comments any more than Yuliya did.

    "Argh! Ya little scamp!" the Fire-type raged. He got ready to leap over to her and deal a burning blow to her in the form of a Fire Punch. However, once again, this knight forgot she had a partner, who leapt in at that point to deliver a Force Palm across his midsection.

    "Ngh!" Suddenly, his Fire Punch fizzled out. "I-I can't move!" It went better than Arian had expected; the Darmanitan had been paralysed by the Riolu's Force Palm.

    "Alright!" Arian cheered. "Come on, let's lay into him!" He dashed forward, a Bite at the ready, and sunk his fangs into the Fire-type.

    At that same time, Yuliya moved in with her own move. Boosted by her Agility, she was quick as lightning as she leapt into the air and bore down on him with U-turn. She descended, landing next to Arian, who unconsciously took her place where she had been.

    "S-Stupid girl!" The Darmanitan moved to strike her with a Hammer Arm this time. But once again, Yuliya came prepared. As he prepared to strike down on her, she slugged him in the stomach with a Sucker Punch, knocking him off-balance.

    Elvira then took the opportunity given to them, and slammed into the Fire-type with Slam. That did the Darmanitan in, and he fell unconscious.

    "Let's keep going." Yuliya, however, wasn't intent on resting on her laurels. "I'll hold these knights off. You just focus on getting to Metody!"

    "Right! Thanks, Yuliya!" Arian thanked, before looking through the group of knights for a gap they could break through. Thanks to the Furret marshal providing support along their flanks, they eventually found one, and dashed through to where Metody was issuing orders to the knights nearest him. He had his back turned to them, and Arian saw a chance to draw first blood. He leapt in with the intent to deal a Force Palm to the Floatzel. However, as he was about to hit him…

    "Hyah!" Suddenly, Metody materialised water gauntlets at his fists, and blocked Arian's attack. "Nope! You haven't outsmarted me, little mutt!" Additionally, he kicked the Riolu, pushing him back slightly.

    "...So you're Metody." Arian clutched his chest in slight pain as he spoke. It wasn't anything serious, thankfully; the marshal hadn't put a huge amount of force behind the kick. "Serafina and Natalie told us about you."

    "Of course they would. Blabbermouths come a dime a dozen with mercenary types," Metody sneered. "But then again, you would know about accidentally letting secrets slip, wouldn't you? Loose-Tongued Arian." He smirked with victory at the nickname he'd invented for the Riolu.

    "Sh-Shut up!" Arian immediately replied, though Metody's remarks had made their mark. His heart sank with guilt at his mistake.

    "Take no notice, Arian," Elvira encouraged, in an attempt to alleviate her partner's worries. "Don't let him get to you!"

    "Hmm…What's that they say about sticks and stones? Seems like your partner hasn't learned that lesson yet." But the Floatzel marshal was not intent on letting up with the snide remarks. "Didn't Fernblade Kallias teach his little girl that? Or was he too busy on missions as a merc to look after you properly, Elvira?"

    "Don't talk about my dad like that!" Elvira shouted back. Evidently, she'd forgotten what she'd said only a moment before. And like Arian, his words did manage to strike a chord within her, reminding her of feelings of contempt she did hold for her dad at one point in the past.

    That's all in the past, she reminded herself, shaking her head to rid those feelings. "My dad was a virtuous mercenary, with his heart always in the right place! He loved me and always wanted the best for me! I won't let you insult him like that, Metody!" She got into a battle stance

    "Hah! Stupid girl," the Floatzel mocked. "If I was facing Fernblade Kallias, I would just hold up the white flag right away. I wouldn't be an idiot, thinking I could take him on. …You, though? You're nothing like him. You're a weak, fickle Treecko who only got lucky! The same with you, Arian!"

    "Oh yeah? You wanna bet?" the human challenged. "We'll beat you right here, right now!"

    "...Fine then. But you'd better put up something of a fight!" Metody accepted. "Hinnerk's a pompous idiot, anyway. No wonder you beat him. Meanwhile, here and now, you're dealing with me, Metody Eligiusz Kumiega, one of Selenia's most powerful fighters. Let me show you why I am where I am!"

    He began by using Aqua Jet. Using his tails as propellers, he moved in the blink of an eye, and struck Arian head on. The Riolu was flung backwards, into the side of a Grotle knight who was duking it out with Yuliya.

    "Oof!" Arian cried.

    "Oi! Damn mutt!" the Grotle yelled, and got ready to attack him.

    "Leave him to me," Metody ordered. "Focus on your own battles, cadet!"

    "Yes, sir! Of course, sir!" obliged the mossy turtle, before turning back to his own duel.

    Elvira sought to capitalise on this, and used Giga Drain on Metody. The attack connected, thankfully, and the Treecko stole energy from him.

    "...You think you've got the upper hand now, do you?" To her dismay, the Floatzel didn't seem that fazed. "Think again!"

    The next thing he did was coat his fists in ice, like the gauntlets of water he had formed earlier. In retaliation for Elvira's attack, he went for her.

    "Hoarfrost Punch!" He dealt a number of blows to Elvira, and the Treecko was knocked back in a similar way her partner was earlier. This attack was much more powerful, though, and the gecko found herself reeling from the attack.

    It looks like…a form of Liquidation, combined with…Ice Punch, I think, she analysed, as she got back to her feet. And he doesn't look as though he compromises much by using it. With Aqua Jet, he definitely makes the best use of his agility as a Floatzel. …We might be in for the long haul with this fight.

    Still…it's not unwinnable,
    she told herself, as she took out an oran berry. If we play our cards right…then hopefully…

    Metody's focus, meanwhile, had returned to Arian. The Riolu had gotten back into the fray, and attempted to strike with a Force Palm again. However, the Floatzel saw his attack coming, and blocked it with his water gauntlets.

    "This shit again?" he snarked. "Doing the same thing again and again isn't a good way of making yourself unpredictable! Seems you really are a dumb mutt. Just what's your story, anyway? I don't recall a prominent Lucario being a merc in the Guild."

    "I don't need to tell you anything," Arian shot back. He jumped back, and thought back to the lessons he'd been having with Galen in the last while, involving this similar motion of blocking punches from opponents. Just be patient. Block his punches, and wait for your chance.

    He ran towards the weasel. This time, his claws shone metallic, a sign he was about to use Metal Claw. Metody saw this, and frowned.

    Either he's an idiot…or he's got something planned. Either way, he went in again, his Liquidation gauntlets armed again. I'll put this pompous kid in his place.

    Arian's left arm came into contact with Metody's right, who blocked his hit without effort. But as he got ready to deal a blow with his other fist, he was taken by surprise as he felt a blow from his right side.

    "Argh!" He used Force Palm on his right paw? …Damn. Knew he was up to no good. Looking up, he saw the Riolu retreat slightly, ready to go at it again.

    But on his right side, Elvira was back in the fray, and threw a blast seed at the marshal. The blast hit him, and he reeled back in surprise from the blast.

    "Damn mercs and their items," he hissed with annoyance. "But tricks won't save you here!" Right away, he leapt back at Elvira, his Hoarfrost Punch at the ready. At least, he wouldn't have to fear his attacks being blocked by her. From what he could grasp from the way she fought, Kallias's daughter didn't appear to be a hand-to-hand combatant, or even take after her father's way of combat.

    However…he was wrong to underestimate her capabilities. Before he struck, the Treecko threw another seed at him. It wasn't a blast seed, but it was a seed that cast an aroma over him. …One that made him feel drowsy.

    Wait! No! Those little… He didn't even finish his thought before he fell asleep standing up.

    It was a funny sight. But Elvira knew this was no time for laughter. Now was a time to capitalise on the marshal's inactivity.

    "Arian!" she called. "Catch!" From her bag, she threw yet another seed. Arian caught it.

    "A violent seed? Oh!" he realised. He didn't need to be told, and gobbled the seed. After consuming it, he felt a greater power come to him.

    "Hey! Guys! Marshal Metody's fallen asleep!" one of the knights pointed out.

    "Those Team Elpis kids did that!" another knight added. "They threw a sleep seed at him!"

    "Protect him! Stop them!"

    "Oh, crud!" Arian cried, seeing the other knights turn their attention to them. "This isn't good!"

    The knights began to move in on them.

    Thankfully, though…Team Elpis had allies by their side, and they all came to defend them.

    "We're your enemies, not them!" Lillian proclaimed, as she, Axel and Ishmael came to the front. Each looked battered from the fighting, but they were holding on.

    "Quite so! Where do you think you're going, you bunch of blackhearts?" Branislav chipped in, slashing at a Rhyhorn with Leaf Blade and felling them. "I am a more worthy opponent than them!"

    "Focus on Metody, Arian and Elvira!" Yuliya declared, from where she was fighting. "Don't worry about us!"

    "...Understood," Elvira agreed. "Arian, let's team up! How about we…try out something? You know what you were suggesting earlier, back in Riverside Cave?"

    "Oh, a team attack?" Arian was suddenly excited. "Yeah, let's try something out, here and now!"

    "Great. Let's start it off!"

    Arian acted on instinct, and slugging Metody with a Force Palm was the first thing he did. This knocked the Floatzel back and out of sleep. However, before he could react, Elvira moved in with her own move: a Giga Drain. This was then followed up by a Slam, as she hit Metody as hard as she could.

    Arian moved back in, his claws at the ready with a metallic sheen. He slashed at Metody once, twice, three times, before rounding that part of the combo out with a Bite.

    Elvira then moved in next to him. The next attack was to be an attack the two would do side by side, by the looks of it. Both were fine with this, and charged their most powerful attacks: Arian with a Force Palm, and Elvira with a Giga Drain.

    Elvira went first, draining Metody's energy for herself. Then, as she finished, Arian moved in, and hit Metody as hard as his attack allowed.

    This threw the Floatzel marshal back into the wall of a nearby watermill. Cracks formed where he landed in the wall.

    He seemed to be unconscious, much to the surprise of Team Elpis. A few knights were quite dismayed.

    "No way…It can't be!"

    "Did Marshal Metody really lose to a pair of rookies?"

    "This can't be real! He's much stronger than them! …Hmm…unless…"

    "Did we do it? Did we…beat him?" Elvira wondered.

    Arian went over to look. The Floatzel's eyes were closed, and he didn't appear to be moving a muscle.

    "...Seems like it," he said, as he turned back to face everyone else. "...Wow…I can't believe I - "

    He didn't finish his sentence before he felt a cold, hard punch slug him across the back of the head.

    "Agh!" he cried. He turned around in horror, to see the Floatzel get back on his feet. While the marshal had taken a battering, he was far from being down.

    "Sike!" declared Metody. "You totally fell for it, you dunce! Did you really think that little show of yours would do me in?"

    "N-No…That didn't defeat him?" Arian's face of despair said it all.

    "Haha! I love to see it! The way your excitement withers to despair as you realise how outmatched you are!" Metody chortled. "You never had a chance, you whelp! And when I'm through with you…you never will," he finished with menace in his tone.

    He got ready to follow up on his attack, and intended to finish Arian for good. The Riolu tried to get up, but he was still reeling from the Hoarfrost Punch that Metody had dealt to him. There would be no chance to dodge out of the way before he went in again.

    "Arian!" he heard Elvira cry. Similar cries could be heard from Team Sandstream.

    He felt the impact of the chilling punch Metody dealt to him. Then another punch. And another. And another. The Riolu lost consciousness after the fourth punch. But Metody wasn't done with him.

    I'll kill him here and post his head to the Guild in Kamengrad as a warning. He smirked inwardly at this thought. What a brilliant idea!

    Perhaps if he hadn't been in fantasyland about such thoughts, he would've paid attention to his surroundings and seen the incoming attack.

    The whoosh of a slashing blade sounded out, along with a pained yell from him.

    "Gyaah! What the fuck!?" Metody cried out in pain. He looked over to see who had dealt that wound to him.

    There, standing next to him, was Branislav, with his leek blade in his right wing, having just used a Leaf Blade on the marshal.

    "You! Birdbrain…" the Floatzel growled, smarting from the cuts dealt to him. "How dare you steal my thunder like that!"

    "You're not the only one whose thunder is being stolen," Branislav returned. "What better way to reclaim it by defeating you in your hometown, here and now? Come, Metody! Your opponent is me now!"

    "...Tch…So the great Branislav is defending and cooperating with mercenaries?" Metody scowled. "I've seen it all now…"

    "All in the name of protecting Selenia's name from underhanded urchins like you," the Sirfetch'd scathingly answered. "If freeing her means allying with those I once thought disdain of…then so be it. Our enemies are the same vile leeches that leave our fair tsardom to stagnate day by day. And so, to stop that rot, I will defeat you here and now!" He swung his leek around. "En garde!"

    Branislav did not hesitate in his charge as he went in for another attack. Metody prepared his Liquidation gauntlets to fight back against him.

    Meanwhile, Elvira had made her way over to her partner with a reviver seed. Arian took it, and regained consciousness.

    "Urgh…What happened?"

    "Long story short, Metody's fighting Branislav right now," Elvira informed. "Therefore, we need to take up his role and hold off the knights."

    "...Okay, I see. I can do that," Arian replied. They took the ex-marshal's place in keeping the knights away from where the fight was happening with Metody.

    "Hyah!" The bird knight swung with a green energy along his blade, aiming to hit the Floatzel. Metody was still the faster of them, and dodged his slashes. At one point, he avoided an overhead swing from the Sirfetch'd, and attempted to hit him in the side. He punched forward, expecting to hit feathery plumage…

    …But he ended up punching his leafy shield instead.

    "Your mistake!" Branislav proclaimed, bashing his shield and pushing the weasel back. That created a prime opportunity to strike with a Leaf Blade, which he struck Metody with, slashing him three times across his midsection.

    "Yeeeaaargh!" yelled Metody in pain. The Sirfetch'd's slashes were especially painful for a Water-type like him, and the cuts stung like nothing else. It was a struggle to get back up again, and he found himself clutching his wounds.

    "Don't like that, hm?" scoffed Branislav. "Then have some more!" He dashed in again, Leaf Blade at the ready, and slashed Metody in the same fashion as before.

    "Ngaaaaaaah!" the Floatzel cried out again in agony. If the strikes were painful before, they were all the worse now, being cut where there were already wounds.

    "You should never have engaged with me!" Branislav declared. "You think that I, Branislav Erastovich Lada, marshal most loyal to His Majesty Tsar Kliment VII, would roll over and accept defeat? I never rest! And I never fail in my duty as marshal!"

    "...Try telling that to your fellow knights," scoffed Metody, breathing heavily as he spoke. "Why do you think Ludmila and your platoon left you for Mitrofan? One good reason, and they all say it - you're a terrible leader. Seven years ago, when Team Marshwood were having their moment of glory in saving Kliment from assassination, where were you? Someone in the background, far away from the limelight. You didn't care at all for your people! Just some haughty noble playing marshal and acting like a spoiled brat when confronted with the slightest criticism! And don't think I'm making this up! Master Mitrofan told us everything, and Ludmila was there to back us up!"

    Arian and Elvira happened to overhear this, and realised that the way Metody told the story wasn't too different from the perspective Melchior told it to them the day before. When the Floatzel marshal worded it again…they found themselves in begrudging agreement with him.

    "...Still your tongue. You speak nothing but slander, as befits a member of that nefarious House Kumiega!" Branislav shouted, almost defensively. "You people were nothing but stains on our nobility's purity, and you continue with your tainted ways today! …But no more. I shall fell the last remaining member of this house today, and then we shall no longer hear of the underhanded plots of your family again!"

    The Sirfetch'd didn't charge in immediately. Rather, he seemed to coat himself in a yellowish energy, in preparation for what looked to be a finishing blow. This time, though, Metody was in more of a position to be defeated, rather than earlier with Arian and Elvira's attempt at a finishing combo.

    "Now, to end this!"

    Branislav was about to charge forward and stab at the Floatzel with all of his might. It was a signature move of his, and passed down through the last few generations of Sirfetch'd in House Lada's dynasty. It was incredibly powerful, and he looked forward to using it to fell the last remaining member of that troublesome house that laid claim to this oblast. Frankly, someone far better deserved land like this, not a disreputable bunch like House Kumiega.

    He got ready to charge forward. But at that moment…a voice pierced through the air.

    "I don't think so, Branislav!"

    Then from his left, something was thrown at him. It was something on fire, and it hit him on his side.

    "Agh!" he yelled, feeling the flames lick his plumage. Oddly, though…the flames were a greenish colour, not the typical red that Fire-types usually breathed.

    "Branislav, look out!" Yuliya cried. "It's coming back!"

    "What?!" The Sirfetch'd looked to his right, but had no time to react before the object hit him again. "Gaargh! What was that? Who threw that?" He looked to his left, where the object had come from.

    And what he saw, or rather who he saw…was quite a shock.

    The object, as it turned out, was a bone, with ghostly flames on it. It came back to its owner, who caught it with skill.

    "To think, one of the most prestigious generals of the old guard falling for an attack like that…it's pathetic," Nikita opined, looking at Branislav with scorn. "Isn't it, Master Mitrofan?"

    "Indeed it is, Nikita," Mitrofan concurred. "Inept scum like him have no place in the top brass. And yet…that was exactly where Kliment put him."

    The very leader of Selenia had come upon the scene, along with his loyal aide. Also with him was a legion of more knights.

    The blood of the mercenaries and ex-knights collectively froze upon the sight of him.

    "Mitrofan?!" Yuliya gasped.

    "What?!" a shocked Axel yelled.

    "What the hell's he doing here?!" Lillian cried, panicked.

    "Of all the times…" Branislav was furious at the interruption. "Right when I was about to put this cur down for good!"

    "On the contrary, you couldn't have come at a better time, Master Mitrofan!" Metody professed, weakly stepping towards his leader. "We've come upon some vital information about the Irian Guild!"

    "Oh? Do tell," Mitrofan asked. Next to him, Nikita threw an oran berry to the marshal.

    No no no! He's going to tell him! Arian thought in despair. All because we couldn't defeat him in time! Oh, why did Mitrofan have to show up now, of all times?

    "It's in Kamengrad, where the mercs have been hiding!" the Floatzel gleefully revealed, after scarfing the oran berry and recovering from the wounds Team Elpis and Branislav inflicted upon him. "That's where they've been all this time, gathering support and plotting our downfall! And now they've teamed up with two old enemies of ours to further that goal!"

    "Kamengrad?" A scowl formed on the Aggron's face. "I'll have some words for House Kalininis when I come up there…"

    "Ah, it's hilarious! I didn't even have to do digging to find this out!" Metody went on. "One of them let it slip! And guess who it was?" He pointed towards Arian. "One of the two you've been so desperate to catch in the last while!"

    Mitrofan's gaze fell to the Riolu. Arian tried hard to swallow his fear, but the memory of their altercation in the Irian Catacombs came back to him, of how the Aggron had effortlessly taken him and Elvira out.

    This time, he was reinforced by the new contingent that came with Mitrofan. As well as that, they still had Metody's knights to contend with, though luckily not as many as before. As for the marshal, he had replenished his health, erasing all the hard work he and Elvira had done to weaken him.

    All their escape routes were blocked, except for the river. But Arian didn't fancy his chances with that route. Besides…He stole a glance at Team Sandstream. I have to think about them. They don't do well at all with water. Swimming upriver wouldn't be up their alley at all. And even if we were good…Floatzel are at home in the river. He'd have even more of an advantage if we jumped in the river. No…that's not a viable option at all.

    "Your arrival changes nothing, you dastardly tyrant!" Branislav touted. "Fight me, one on one! I'll cut you to pieces! You'll rue the day you ever stood against I, Marshal - "

    "Good grief. You truly have learned nothing from seven years ago," Mitrofan interjected. "You're still the same spoiled child you were then. This time you're boasting about your excellence and making it all about you. …Nothing seems to have changed about you. No doubt you intend to pull the rug out from under the Irian Guild. Tell me, mercenaries!" He directed his question to the two teams. "Is that the kind of man you want to ally with? One who'll stab you in the back the first chance he gets?"

    Arian and Elvira considered Mitrofan's question. Admittedly…they still didn't fully trust the Sirfetch'd. Metody's earlier words to him had given them food for thought. But hearing it from Mitrofan, the same guildmaster that had stood up to him and reprimanded him for his condescension towards them, only caused the seeds of doubt within them to grow. Despite what he had promised not long before, they didn't truly know whether the Sirfetch'd had learned to get over his mistrust of mercenaries, or would throw them under the carriage wheels the first chance he got and was only allying with them on a temporary basis.

    Near them, Team Sandstream seemed to be having similar misgivings. Neither team ended up saying anything, unsure of what to say.

    "The silence says it all," the Aggron observed. "You can't trust him, after all the empty criticism he's lobbed at us for all these years."

    "...Ain't like we got a choice," Ishmael chipped in.

    "Pfft. Just another way of saying you're desperate," Metody responded. "Admit it! You don't want to partner with him either! It's a coalition that'll fall apart with the lightest breeze. …Maybe we don't need to do anything," he shrugged jokingly. "Internal conflict might do it all for us."

    "I'm not taking chances, Metody," Mitrofan uttered disapprovingly. "That scum betrayed me!" He pointed to the bird knight. "And you, Yuliya!" He turned to the Furret. "You, who backed the Guild for all these years! You, whose cooperation helped us seven years ago! You were among those whose help I needed the most, and you went and stabbed me in the back!"

    "I most certainly did not!" Yuliya repudiated. "You were the one that stabbed us in the back! Stabbed Selenia in the back! You killed His Majesty! Unless you've forgotten, my loyalty was to him, first and foremost! To side with you would be betraying everything I believed in! It would be unconscionable to side with you, after you killed my liege and ousted my sister and brother-in-law from this realm!" She grew more emotional with each outburst. "…Why would you do this, Mitrofan? You and Team Marshwood prevented His Majesty from being assassinated seven years ago! Why would you suddenly change your mind and kill him two years later? Answer me!"

    "...Hmph. I would think you would know, Yuliya," Mitrofan replied. "A lot can change in two years. Certainly…that's long enough for one's opinion to change. I once thought His Majesty was a great man worthy of leading our tsardom. But I soon came to realise that he was nothing more than a coward who would stoop to the lowest heights if it meant getting what he wanted!"

    "You dare accuse His Majesty of lowbrow behaviour?" Branislav interrogated. "We won't listen to your slander! And we will not let you sully His Majesty's name!"

    "...It's Rufina, isn't it?"

    Mitrofan had tuned out the rantings of that infernal bird. But he froze at the mention of that name. He looked over at who made that comment. And he found who had said it.

    Arian, whose demeanour looked rather more serious. Just a moment ago, he was quivering like a leaf at the sight of him. Now…he still looked scared. But he was evidently trying to suppress it.

    "...What did you say?" Mitrofan's tone was like ice. "You, Arian! Speak up!"

    "...It's because of Rufina," Arian repeated, trying to suppress his fear. "That's why you're…like this, Mitrofan. You were a good man once. Everyone keeps saying that about you. But…something happened. And the fact that Rufina isn't anywhere to be seen…that has to have something to do with it. What happened to her, Mitrofan? Is she dead? Is she being hostage somewhere? Could it be…that someone kidnapped her and blackmailed you to overthrow Tsar Kliment?"

    These were theories the Riolu had brainstormed after being told about the events seven years ago by Melchior. What he lacked was confirmation as to which one was true. And what better way to find the answer than from the lips of the man himself? Even if he is our greatest enemy…I have to know. I have to know the truth of all of this.

    He examined the Aggron's emotions, to try and gauge how close he was to the truth. While this was somewhat hampered by the multitude of different aura waves that were emanating from all the knights in the area, he did manage to discern two emotions from the tyrant.

    Anger. And on a more subtle level…pain.

    However, before he could discern what these emotions meant, the despot spoke up again.

    "What does that name mean to you?" he interrogated.

    "...Well, um." Arian was admittedly caught off-guard by Mitrofan's question. "She's your wife, isn't she?"

    "Team Silver Axe never on any occasion helped a Riolu," the Aggron replied. "They are known to be rare. If Rufina encountered one in her own time, she did not tell me of it. Have you even as much as met Rufina, boy?"

    "...Well, no," admitted the human. "But - "

    "Then don't throw that name around like it's nothing!" Mitrofan suddenly thundered. "You don't understand the weight of that name! Do you intend to use Rufina's name to guilt-trip me, Arian?!"

    "N-No! It's not like that!" Arian defended. "I-I'm just trying to find out the truth!

    "And what will you do with that truth?!"

    "Find out what's really going on here!" the Riolu fired back. "People don't just become tyrants overnight! Something happened, and Rufina disappearing has something to do with it! She - "

    "That's enough!" bellowed Mitrofan, and stomped his foot to the ground. Sensing movement beneath him, Arian jumped out of the way just as the Stone Edge stalagmites ruptured the cobblestones that he once stood on.

    "Geez, that was close," he breathed.

    "Hang on, Master Mitrofan! We got him!" a Carnvine knight volunteered. He then created his snare with a Grass Knot, and managed to trip the Riolu. From there, three different knights seized him before he could get back on his feet.

    "Arian!" cried Elvira. She was in the midst of staving off the new group of knights that had come with Mitrofan. Yuliya and Branislav, as well as Team Sandstream, were helping her. The former marshals had been the most productive of the group in thinning the ranks of Metody's contingency. Now they were combatting the reinforcements, along with the Floatzel who was now back in the fray after being healed by Nikita's oran berry earlier.

    "I will not have any more of these vile tactics of yours," the Aggron growled. "You use my wife's name in vain for your futile attempt to get me to stand down. You, a nobody who never knew Rufina! You, who seek the truth to twist it for your own gain!" He began to march closer to the Riolu.

    "That's not true!" Arian cried out in desperation. He struggled hard to break free from the knights, but their grips were like iron. "I'm not going to twist the truth!"

    "That doesn't matter," Mitrofan immediately deflected. "Even if you knew the truth, you would still be my enemy. It's not as if you can change the past. And by the looks of it, you don't have the potential to change the future either! You have made it plain that you and the rest of the Guild are no allies of mine. And so I will treat you like I treat all my enemies; put them down so they can be of no threat to me again."

    He was getting closer and closer to Arian. Terror crept over the Riolu.

    "Mitrofan, stop! Stop this!" begged Elvira. "Rufina wouldn't want this from you! Would she want to see you become this…monster that murders people and oppresses thousands of people across Selenia?"

    "...It's almost as if you don't think I know my own wife." Mitrofan's indignance returned. "'I will support you no matter what path you go down.' Those were among her vows to me when we married nineteen years ago. And over the years, she has meant that. She supported me in the face of every single insult thrown my way since I became Guildmaster. She supported when I stood up to Branislav seven years ago. She supported me in the face of those restrictions Kliment intended to place on the Guild. And most of all…she always pushed the notion of payback and retribution. If Kliment took her away from me…then she would want me to pay him back in equal measure. And so I did just that. Dethroning Kliment was an act for Rufina, just as much as it was for the removal of a fickle, corrupt ruler like him!

    "...Damn you, Elvira. I had hoped you of all people would understand." Mitrofan shook his head in dismay. "But no! It appears you take after your father in more ways than one! Thus…allow me to repeat what I said to your father, five years ago, in the throne room of Iria Castle.

    "If you're not with me…then you're my enemy. It's as simple as that."

    With that said, his tail gave off a metallic sheen, and he swung at Elvira. The Treecko had no time to react before the Iron Tail hit her square on.

    "Aaaaaah!" she cried, as she was knocked onto her back.

    "Elvira!" Arian yelled.

    "I'll finish you off first," Mitrofan decided. "What a shame. If only your father had seen sense…then it wouldn't have come to this."

    "Don't do it!" Arian pleaded, fighting harder than ever against the knights that bound him. "Don't kill her! Don't kill Elvira!"

    Mitrofan paid no attention to the pleading Riolu. His attention was on the weakened Elvira, who was struggling to get up and away from the towering ironclad titan. She looked up at the former Guildmaster, and with the noises of battle behind her and her partner pleading with all of his heart, a thought came to her.

    Are these…the last sounds I'm ever going to hear?

    The Aggron got ready to strike again. He lifted his foot up, and got ready to slam it down again to use Stone Edge, a powerful move that would hopefully dispose of this meddling Treecko once and for all. A part of him was sad at the fact he would have to kill the daughter of a friend who spoke of his dear love for her. But he mentally brushed it away. There was no room for such platitudes when duty called like this.

    However, at that moment, he found himself rudely interrupted by the tossing of a Gravelerock his way. It hit him on his side, and though it only clinked off his iron hide, he did cease his attack to see who had done that.

    "Ya tosser! Get the fuck away from 'em!"

    "Yeah, what Ish said!"

    "You're not killing our friends, Mitrofan!"

    It was Team Sandstream that had done it. They looked at the Aggron with fury in all of their eyes, and a determination that suggested they would fight him in the name of saving their friends.

    It was at that moment that Mitrofan looked at all three of them and had a small realisation.

    I know them. During that time…they were looking to form a team at the Guild. Just another set of new recruits looking to have a go at the merc lifestyle. …Interesting. These three might well have been the last group I ever recruited to the Irian Guild. My Irian Guild. And that Krokorok…He looked again at Ishmael. Could he be…?

    Hmph. It's not like it matters.
    The Aggron shrugged off these thoughts, and focused on the new incoming attacks from them on him.

    Ishmael burrowed into the ground, in a usage of Dig. Axel looked to creep up to the Aggron, before striking at him suddenly with a Feint Attack. Lillian similarly launched herself towards him, and raised her right claws to strike at him with Brick Break.

    Mitrofan would be lying if he said the last attack didn't hurt him at all. After all, he never took Fighting-type moves well, even from someone so different in skill level like the Sandslash. He was irked by this; just when he was about to finish off one of his greater enemies, her friends and fellow mercs had to jump in and halt him in their tracks. I can't ignore this. Looks like I'll have to deal with them too.

    Luckily, his closest ally was alike in thinking this. Therefore, as Ishmael surfaced, intending to strike Mitrofan with Dig…he was suddenly hit with a flaming Bonemerang.

    "Yargh!" he cried out. Fazed by this unexpected attack, he didn't carry out his attack - and that gave a window of opportunity for Mitrofan to give a hefty swipe at him with Dragon Claw. This threw Ishmael backwards, and he was knocked out by the two attacks he'd been dealt.

    "Ish!" Lillian called worriedly. She handed him a reviver seed from the bag. "Oh dear…I don't think we have any reviver seeds left. We're beginning to run out of items..."

    "Shit…ya ain't messin'?" Ishmael murmured as he got back on his feet. "Crap…" He looked around on all sides. Enemies everywhere, with Arian detained and Elvira in a weakened state. Granted, Yuliya and Branislav were still holding up, but… "This ain't good…"

    "Stop pretending you have a chance," Nikita scoffed, brandishing his bone club as he blocked a strike from Branislav. "There is no hope for you all. There is only one path with one way out of this mess. And that is death." He paused to dodge another slice from Branislav.

    "Tenacious cur!" the Sirfetch'd cursed. He looked out at the river. "Come on, Maciej…hurry up…!"

    "Hey, Nikita. I've an idea," Metody said to him. He was in the middle of fighting Yuliya.

    "And that would be?" the Marowak wondered.

    "Those three over there…" He pointed to Team Sandstream. "...I think we can take them all down in one fell swoop."

    "How so?"

    "C'mon. Look." Metody gestured to behind them. "The bane of Ground-types like them. I'd gladly kick their asses right now if this bitch wasn't at my throat." As he said this, Yuliya slashed at him with a Shadow Claw. "Argh! Damn you, woman!"

    "Damn you too," the Furret replied. "What are you up to, Metody? What do you plan to do with Team Sandstream?"

    "Why else? I hate Albans," the Floatzel scoffed. "And they're the spitting image of those barbarian savages. Especially that Krokorok over there." He glared at the crocodile. "I'd bet my float he's that chief's son that the Ó Ruairc clan wouldn't shut up about."

    "...So you're a prolific racist as well. Why am I not surprised?" Yuliya sarcastically muttered.

    "You wouldn't understand, Lysagora bitch," growled Metody. "Pests. Savage pests. That's all they are!"

    While Yuliya and Metody argued, Nikita focused on his duel with Branislav. Though the ex-marshal had been an experienced higher up in the past, he was an older knight whose age looked to be catching up with him. The Marowak, on the other hand, trained night and day to be an effective defender of Mitrofan, and was young and strong. Therefore, he was able to effectively hold his own against the Sirfetch'd and suffered only a few blows from the bird knight, while the Sirfetch'd sustained more hits than him.

    It was a foregone conclusion that Nikita would eventually win the duel if he kept it up. But Metody's plan had him thinking. And he realised he did have a certain item with him.

    If I time this right…I might be able to make Master Mitrofan's life easier by getting rid of them.

    He threw another Shadow Bonemerang at Branislav. But in that moment, to the bird's shock…he ran away from him.

    "Hey! Where are you going?" Branislav demanded, shielding against the projectile. "Fight me, coward!"

    As he got nearer to Team Sandstream and Mitrofan, he pulled the desired item out of his bag - an orb.

    "You wanna tussle?" Axel yelled at Nikita in a challenging manner.

    "No," the Marowak immediately answered, as he grabbed his returning bone club. "I don't fight well in water."

    "Water? What the hell are ya - "

    Ishmael didn't get to finish his sentence before Nikita threw the orb at them.

    "AAAAAAAAAH!"

    All three of them were thrown back by the force of the blowback orb.

    This wouldn't be particularly noteworthy in the case of a Mystery Dungeon - they would normally hit a wall and get back up from that.

    But they weren't in a Mystery Dungeon, and a wall wasn't behind them.

    What was behind them…was the River Evor.

    Arian and Elvira's eyes bulged in horror.

    "No! No!" yelled Arian.

    "Ishmael! Axel! Lillian!" cried Elvira.

    Team Sandstream landed in the water with a forceful splash. It was in the middle of the river, where it happened to be at its deepest.

    A problem…for evidently inexperienced swimmers.

    "Aagh!" Ishmael cried as he surfaced, flailing his arms about. "Crap! I can't swim!"

    "This water! Blegh!" Axel said as he spat out a mouthful of river water. Lillian couldn't even get in a response before she fell underwater again.

    Notably, a number of passersby were watching the whole ordeal with the knights and mercenaries. Some gasped in horror as Team Sandstream was blown back into the river. Some were in their boats, and were tempted to rescue them.

    "Don't help them!" Mitrofan's order was heard loud and clear. "Or I'll have you arrested for aiding and abetting outlaws!"

    That put any thoughts of rescuing them to rest. Based on the discomfort of a number of watchers, though, they weren't happy about this.

    "Wonderful work, Nikita!" Metody praised. "Now, if you don't mind, it's my time to shine!" He delivered a Hoarfrost Punch to Yuliya, dazing her for a moment. That was the window he needed, and he ran towards the river, before jumping in himself.

    "Oh no!" Elvira cried. "Team Sandstream!"

    In the river, Metody caught sight of his prey. He snickered, watching them struggle. None of them seemed to be good swimmers at all. As you'd expect of a place like Alba. No rivers means robbing them of one of the basic skills of life: how to swim. …If you all can't survive in calm waters like this…then this'll be a cinch!

    "Whirlpool!" he yelled out underwater. He bent the water to his will, and shaped a swirling vortex of water, before throwing it at the Ground-type trio. All three members of Team Sandstream tried to escape it, barely managing to get to the surface. But they underestimated the pull of the Whirlpool, and all three were soon stuck, flailing helplessly in the water.

    "No!" Yuliya cried out in horror, watching the spectacle. "There's no way they'll get out of that! He's trying to drown them!"

    "How dishonourable!" Branislav raged. "How low will you Kumiega scum delve?"

    "They're going to drown!" Elvira yelled in desperation. "We need to stop Metody!"

    "I don't think so," Nikita interjected, brandishing his bone club. "Like I said; you don't have a hope. Give it up! You can't win, Elvira!"

    "Ngh…" The Treecko looked in desperation at Mitrofan. "Don't you see what's happening?! Why are you letting your marshal kill them in such a cruel manner?"

    "...They are enemies," was the Aggron's simple response. "The only purpose of enemies is to get rid of them. I don't care how it's done."

    "...You truly have lost it." Elvira clenched her fist. "You're not the Guildmaster Mitrofan my dad was good friends with. You are a monster. An irredeemable monster. You are beyond saving." Each word was said with increasing anger and bitterness, while at the same time, tears came to her eyes. Once again, the memory of the scary-looking but kindhearted Aggron giving her money to buy sweets came back to her. "I thought the old you might've been in there somewhere, but…no. He's dead. He's been dead this whole time."

    "...Correct," Mitrofan stated. "The Mitrofan you knew is gone. It might have been a different story if your father and Melchior had less concern over guild ethics and more concern over aiding comrades in need. …But they never understood. Nor do you. And by the looks of it…" He gazed over at Arian. "Nor does your partner."

    As for the Riolu, he had resumed his struggle against the knights' grips.

    "Let go of me! Let go of me!" Arian yelled, struggling all the more fiercely.

    "Nope, kid! You stay where you are!" the Carnivine from earlier said.

    "Grrr! Let me go!" the Riolu continued to scream.

    Oddly, as he said this…it was as if some form of a memory came to him.

    "Let me go! Let me go, you sick bastard!"

    "Hah! Look at your struggle. A varmint like you who threatens my life only deserves one fate. And that is...perhaps the most painful death

    Arian paid no mind to these thoughts. He just wanted to be free. He just wanted to save Team Sandstream. I don't want my friends to die! Especially not like this!

    "Ngaaaaargh! Let me go!"

    And as he said this…something extraordinary happened.

    His paws suddenly flared a bright blue, and a burst of energy occurred around him.

    "Gah! What the hell?!"

    All of the knights that were holding him back reeled back in hurt from this. Realising he was free, Arian ran forward, towards the river.

    "What in blazes?" Nikita observed. "Something's happened with Arian!"

    "Hm? What…?" Mitrofan broke off. He stared down at the Riolu's paws, which seemed to be glowing with blue. "Like flames…Is this…? Is it aura?"

    Arian paid no attention to this. Only one thought was on his mind.

    I need to save my friends.

    He ran towards the quay, and got ready to jump in. Part of his mind screamed that this was a stupid idea, that he would just get caught in the vortex as well.

    Indeed, Elvira voiced those same thoughts.

    "Arian! Don't! You'll get caught in his Whirlpool too!"

    Arian heard her words. But though he understood…the determination to save Ishmael, Axel and Lillian won out in the end, regardless of what dangerous situation he was jumping into.

    And so he jumped in.

    Instantly, he felt the water cover him. Then he felt the pull of the current, as he gradually felt himself be sucked into the Whirlpool. But he focused his vision. Somehow…it seemed to be sharper now. Perhaps it was due to this mysterious power burning within him right now. If this power can help me save them…then I'm all for it! If I could just dissipate this Whirlpool…then I can better help Team Sandstream.

    He scanned the water, and saw him.

    Metody, the causer of this chaos.

    Bastard, he seethed. Then a thought came to him. If I can take him out…then maybe the Whirlpool will disappear.

    At that moment, Metody's gaze locked with his. His smug smirk was all too present as he swam towards him.

    Here he comes. Arian braced himself, and got ready to deal a Force Palm to the weasel.

    Only…something unusual happened.

    As Metody formed his Liquidation gauntlets, Arian habitually applied the energy to his paw needed for the Force Palm release. But…instead of forming around his paw, it shot out as energy towards the Floatzel, and hit him.

    "Aaaargh!" yelled Metody underwater. "What the hell? Why…Why do you have power like that?"

    Arian would answer him, were they above water. His glare hardened. Is that what this power can do? …Then give me more. This bastard deserves no mercy.

    He went in again. He put one paw behind the other, to see if he could fire off that energy at the marshal again. And once again, Metody was hit.

    "Gah! Annoying little shit!" raged the Floatzel. "Wait till I get my hands on you!" He tried to go in again, to try and attack the Riolu again. But…he couldn't. He found himself frozen in place.

    "Paralysis…?" he realised in anger. "Little shit! Damn you and your Force Palm, or whatever the hell that attack was!"

    Force Palm? Was that what that was? Arian thought. Then Galen's lessons came back to him, of how with enough training, Force Palm could potentially be used as a ranged attack. This power, or whatever it is…Is it allowing me to do this?

    A new splash drew his attention away from the paralysed marshal. Looking over at where it had occurred, Arian saw Elvira in the water. He was confused…until she pointed to where the vortex had been.

    Suddenly, Arian remembered why he had jumped in the river in the first place.

    Crap! Team Sandstream! He looked over, horrified at what he saw.

    Thankfully, the vortex had dissipated. But it had taken its toll on Team Sandstream.

    Ishmael, Axel and Lillian were all sinking. They had run out of energy, and their eyes were collectively closed in unconsciousness.

    No, no, no, no, no! In desperation, the Riolu swam towards them. Truthfully, he was desperate for air. But saving his friends came first.

    I'll save them…or I'll die trying.

    He grabbed the nearest one to him - Ishmael. He was difficult to move on his own. But Elvira came to him to help, and the weight was less of a struggle to handle. The two of them struggled upwards to get him to the surface. I need to save him, I need to save him, was the lone thought running through Arian's mind.

    After what felt like an eternity, they surfaced, and the duo took in blessed lungfuls of air. To their luck, they had surfaced near the opposite bank away from the knights. They dragged Ishmael's unconscious body to the small shore, and left it there.

    "...Right," Arian breathed. "The other two. We need to get them as well." Not wasting any time, he breathed in, and dived back into the river. Elvira followed suit, both determined to rescue their comrades.

    Lillian and Axel's unconscious forms had hit the riverbed. Bracing themselves, they went for Lillian first. As they got her, Arian stole a worried glance at Metody. But to his luck, the Floatzel seemed to still struggle with the paralysis dealt to him.

    Let's seize this opportunity while it lasts. The Riolu helped his partner get Lillian up to where Axel was laid down. While the Sandslash was much lighter, thankfully, her spikes were a problem, and a number of them ended up pricking Arian's side. He winced, but carried on. This pain's nothing. I can patch it up later.

    They got to the surface, and placed Lillian where Ishmael was. Arian was partially curious as to how Mitrofan might possibly try to foil their plans. But he swept that thought away. That doesn't matter. I can worry about that later. Now…to rescue Axel.

    Team Elpis dived back in to rescue the Gligar. Unluckily, he was the furthest away from them, meaning this part had more of an opportunity to be sabotaged.

    Arian and Elvira got Axel. He was unresponsive - a bad sign. And given he waited the longest to be rescued…that didn't bode well either.

    But the worst part of it all was that Axel was heavy - a lot heavier than his two compatriots. The Elpis duo struggled to even lift him up from the riverbed.

    No, no…Come on, Arian! You can do this! You need to do this! You need to save him! In desperation, the Riolu put his back into trying to lift up the Gligar. Elvira did the same. However, not much of a difference was made.

    And just when things couldn't get any worse…what they feared most came true.

    "Whirlpool!" Metody created a vortex and tossed it towards them. Being in a compromised position with carrying their comrade, they couldn't resist it in any way.

    "Mmmmph!" Arian cried out in pain, feeling himself be tugged by the Whirlpool. He held onto Axel as tightly as he could, not wanting his friend to be lost from his grasp. Elvira had the same idea.

    But the Whirlpool was hurting him, with cuts appearing on his sides and making him wince in pain. And worse still…the urge for air had come to him. Not now! Not now! he urged his senses. He held onto Axel so tightly, he almost feared he would tear a wound in the fly scorpion.

    The Whirlpool still buffeted him, though. And all the while…the need for oxygen became stronger and stronger.

    Can't breathe, he thought. No…I'm not dying here. I'm not…

    His vision began to blur. He felt the haze of unconsciousness creep up on him…

    …But luckily for them, fortune intervened.

    Next moment, the vortex suddenly dissipated once again.

    Huh? What? That kept Arian from the lull of the darkness. Through his blurry vision, he saw one thing.

    Metody seemed to be wrapped in a pinkish aura. However, based on his pained reaction to it…it seemed to be holding him back, rather than aiding him.

    Is that…Psychic? I…think it is, he thought. But then who's -

    He didn't finish this thought before he felt another force pulling on him. In fact, not just him - Elvira and Axel too.

    Wh-What?! He realised at that moment that a similar aura was enveloping them. Are we under attack?

    The force, however, seemed to be pulling them towards the surface. And as they broke above the water, Arian could see that they were being placed on the wooden planks of a boat.

    Huh? Oh, we're back on solid ground. Thank God…

    It was at that moment that the bluish energy around the Riolu's paws dissipated. And with that, Arian fell down in exhaustion, coughing up a lungful of river water and breathing in that sweet, sweet air. He didn't fall unconscious, but rather, he was completely spent. All that toing and froing, underwater, lifting comrades heavier than himself, while struggling against a vortex, twice, and the cessation of whatever power had sprung up within him had completely drained him of his energy. The thought of helping Team Sandstream in their current state came to mind, but he hadn't the energy to even move. He could do nothing.

    Looking over at Elvira, she had dropped to her knees, in a similar state of exhaustion. By the looks of it, they definitely needed a breather.

    But who helped us? That question came to him. And just as quickly, it was answered.

    "...You love to play heroics, don't you?" Maciej commented, from his left. "Eh, don't worry. We'll get your friends next." He turned to his companion. "Get the other two on the boat!"

    "As ya wish, Match." Looking over to his right, Arian was stupefied by what he saw: a Lapras, pulling the boat where he was now.

    The Lapras's eyes then glowed pink, and Lillian was levitated from the bank where Team Elpis had left her onto the boat next. He seemed to be using Psychic, but it was a different form of it. One that wasn't intended to damage, but rather a form of it that was designed to transport objects…as well as people.

    "Gonna have to grab the Krok by mouth," the Lapras informed. "He won't be able to be transported by my Psychic." He therefore paddled over and leaned his long neck down to pick up Ishmael with his mouth. He placed him on the boat behind him, ensuring all three members of Team Sandstream were safe aboard the boat.

    "Now for our marshal comrades. They've been holding up well…but the tides are turning, and not in their favour," Maciej informed. As he spoke, the Lapras moved closer to the other bank where the fighting was going on. "Mitrofan and Nikita are no joke. Even without the other knights, those two would have their paws and feathers full. To get them out of there…I know what we can do. Aegir, if you could help me out here?"

    "Sure thing, Match," Aegir, the Lapras, obliged. "A double Psychic, yeah?"

    "The very one. Hey, you two!" Maciej called. "Stop fighting! We'll help you get out of this mess!"

    Both Maciej and Aegir's eyes glowed pink, and they aimed their energies over at the quayside, where Yuliya and Branislav were duelling against Mitrofan and Nikita.

    Mitrofan realised what they were about to do.

    "Dammit! They're going to escape!" he raged. "Nikita!"

    "I'm on it!" Nikita acknowledged. He reared his arm back, and threw a Shadow Bonemerang at Maciej, aiming to stop the bat's Psychic manoeuvre.

    However, to his surprise, the Swoobat stopped his Psychic, before he could even move Branislav to the boat. He shifted to using a Shadow Ball, which he flung at the bone club. Its advance was stopped, and it came back to Nikita.

    Meanwhile, Aegir's Psychic had brought Yuliya on board the boat. He now went to do the same for Branislav. This time, though, Maciej started with a Shadow Ball, and launched it towards Nikita.

    "I don't think so." Mitrofan stepped in to block the attack. He weathered it like it was nothing.

    That, however, did nothing to stop Aegir from using Psychic to lift Branislav to the boat. And soon, the bird knight was aboard.

    "Great! Everyone's aboard!" Maciej declared. "Go, Aegir, go!"

    "Not so fast!" another voice proclaimed. Then, out of the water, as Aegir was beginning to move upriver, Metody shot out and landed on the boat. "We have unfinished business here!"

    "You!" Branislav yelled. "We can deal with you right here and now, Kumiega vermin! Even with our incapacitated, it's three against one! And I'm not finished with fighting!"

    "Same here!" Yuliya seconded. "I can still fight!" Though both were weary, they stood strong, ready for another fight if necessary.

    "Hold off, you two. Let me handle this mistake of a 'mon," Maciej insisted. He charged energy within himself, and let loose a Shock Wave on the Floatzel.

    "Argh!" yelled out Metody. "Damn you, you winged rat!"

    "This is a waste of time," Maciej scoffed. "Get off this boat and let us escape. Or I'll kill you right here and now. Honestly...you should have been dead a long time ago."

    "...Of course you would say that," Metody growled. "Scum like you would say that." He looked from Yuliya to Branislav, then over at the mercenaries. "…I wonder how they'd react if I told them who you really - "

    "Kindly fuck off," Maciej interjected. "You're a debased piece of shit, Metody. One that was discarded by the best, and should've remained out of sight. You're better off dead, in other words. You're of no use to anyone anymore." He gave a meaningful glare towards the Floatzel, before charging his attack. "Now get off our boat!"

    Another Shock Wave was unleashed, and the Floatzel was shocked with electricity again. Then Maciej moved in again and rammed him with Heart Stamp. The force from this was enough to knock the weasel off the boat.

    "After them!" Mitrofan could be heard yelling to knights. "Don't let them get away!"

    "Time to hightail it out of here if ya don't mind, Match!" Aegir called.

    "Please do! We need to get to Kamengrad on the double!" Maciej replied. "...After all, we have injured aboard." He glanced over at the mercenaries, where Arian and Elvira had regained some small amount of energy - at least enough to check each of their pulses.

    "Not good," Elvira informed. "They're still breathing, but they all need medical attention as soon as possible."

    "You have any reviver seeds on you?" the Swoobat queried. "That should help revive them."

    "...No, we don't," the Treecko revealed with disappointment. "We used our whole supply of them in that battle. And I remember Team Sandstream saying they were low on items too." She checked their bag, by Lillian's side. It was waterlogged, and took some wringing out. Once that was done, she examined their possessions, and returned with unfortunate news. "...Yeah, they're right. There aren't any reviver seeds in here."

    "...Well, that's great," Maciej muttered dryly. "We won't hit landfall until we get to Nagoria at least. And Kamengrad's another hour away at least from there…"

    "...Hm. You never told us you had this whole thing as a backup plan," Branislav observed, in a slight change in topic. "Why did you keep this from us, Maciej?"

    "As an emergency measure," the Swoobat explained. "Aegir has his own schedule, but when I told him we were in need of help, he was all too happy to oblige. …And good thing too. You really are our saving grace here, Aegir."

    "Ah, no problem, Match," the Lapras said to him. "If you need help, I'll be there. …On the water, at least. On land…yer gonna have to find someone else."

    "True. Like Yuliya and Branislav. Or these mercenaries," Maciej replied. "They'll make good allies, I think." Another thought came to him. "That being said…I don't think you mercs will be able to stay in Kamengrad anymore."

    "Wait, why?" Arian asked, before his heart sank as a reminder of his earlier error. "Oh…Oh, that's why…"

    "Yeah…We'll have to discuss all that when we get to the Guild," Maciej went on. "Pity that's the news we have to arrive with. I'd rather come to them in greater triumph."

    Arian only felt worse, hearing the Swoobat's comments. He looked at the ground in utter dismay.

    "It's my fault…It's all my fault…"
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter 21 - Seeds of Doubt and Hope
  • Arukona

    A Scribe Penning His Brainworms
    Location
    Ardalion
    Pronouns
    He/him
    Partners
    1. aggron
    2. sceptile
    Chapter 21
    Seeds of Doubt and Hope

    Hi Mom,

    I hope you're doing well, because I'm not.

    Things have taken a bit of a turn for the worse for us. We were in Rusalka doing a mission, and somehow, we happened to come across not one, but two marshals from before five years ago! What a coincidence, huh? We agreed to team up, and thankfully, we now have two strong allies by our side.

    However, before we could leave town, we were cornered by the knights, led by Marshal Metody, one of Mitrofan's top brass. We weren't going to go down without a fight, of course, and so we fought against them. We did fairly well, actually, and nearly managed to beat Metody.

    But right when we were about to win, Mitrofan showed up out of nowhere. I can say without a doubt he's a monster. He's not that honourable guildmaster Dad always spoke fondly about. He nearly killed both me and Arian. And when our friends in Team Sandstream were thrown into the Evor, Metody tried to drown them. Mitrofan didn't even react to that. How could he allow such a thing to happen? I'll never forgive him for this.

    Thankfully, we got out of it, somehow. But there's two big problems. One: Mitrofan knows where we are. Two: our friends in Team Sandstream are in a bad way. We couldn't give them medical attention immediately, and so matters have gotten complicated with them. We think they'll pull through, but we're still not certain yet.

    Arian's taking it pretty hard. He keeps blaming himself for what happened, saying he's the one who let it slip. I keep trying to tell him otherwise, but I don't think it's gotten through to him.

    Honestly, Mom, I feel like I could have done better myself. I just wish I could have done more. At least I'm still alive. That's something, right?

    But because of the way things are, Arian and I, along with the rest of the Guild, may have to go into hiding. If that's true, then I'd be scared to try and send you letters in case Mitrofan decides to track them down.

    I'd love to see you again. But I don't know when I'll see you next. Hopefully it'll be soon.


    Wishing you lots of love,
    Elvira.






    The Treecko put down the pen. Once the ink had dried, she folded the piece of paper and placed it in an envelope. Writing her home address (technically, old home address) on the envelope, she walked out of the room, and into the atrium of the church they were staying in.

    Her mind reflected on yesterday evening, when they returned to the Guild.





    "Melchior! Melchior!" Arian yelled. He and Elvira were sent ahead of Yuliya, Branislav, Maciej and the indisposed Team Sandstream to let the Guild know of the present situation.

    "Oh, it's you two." The first reply came from Terran, who happened to be in the main area. "Stop yelling! And I told you, his title is Guildmaster - "

    "Shut up, Terran!" the human interjected in an irritated manner, catching the Larvitar by surprise. "I've no time for this! We need Melchior, now!"

    "Arian?" As if on cue, the Guildmaster himself appeared. "What's all the commotion about?"

    "Melchior!" Arian cried, with some degree of panic. "I messed up! I messed up big time!"

    "...Messed up?" Melchior tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

    "There's a lot to explain," Elvira said, a hint of grimness in her voice. "A lot happened in our mission to Rusalka today. There's some good, but a lot of bad."

    "Sounds serious." Melchior's tone matched his words. "Come to the office and tell me all about it."





    "...So that's what happened," Elvira informed. "We have new allies. But…we had a close shave with Mitrofan and the knights. They nearly killed us, and Team Sandstream nearly drowned. They're being transported here by Yuliya, Branislav and Maciej. They'll need medical attention once they get here.

    "And worst of all…they know where we are now," Arian revealed, with such shame in his tone it hurt. "All because they overheard us talking…"

    "...Is that so?" Melchior's expression turned grim.

    "I'm sorry!" the Riolu apologised. "I didn't know Metody would have spies…"

    "...He is known to be crafty, from what I've heard," the Swampert murmured. "Then again, he does hail from House Kumiega, who were known for being rather…unscrupulous when they were a noble house."

    "...I shouldn't have said it. I should have just waited till we got back here. Or until we were out of Rusalka." Arian's fist clenched. "If only I knew…!"

    "Don't beat yourself up over it, Arian," Melchior urged. "These things happen. …In truth, I'm surprised we've managed to keep the Guild's location out of the eyes of Melchior and the knights. Perhaps that's thanks to House Kalininis."

    "House Kalininis? They're the house that presides over Nagoria, aren't they?" Elvira recalled. "But…aren't they with Mitrofan?"

    "...Yes and no," Melchior replied. "They side with Mitrofan, but only for the sake of making sure their people don't fall under the rule of an unfit ruler, like Hinnerk. Those oaths they take for him…they're just empty words, in their eyes. Plus, they've always been friendly with the Guild. Thus, when Lord Agafon met me in the streets of Kamengrad, he told me he knew about the underground Guild below the town. But as long as we did good work and followed in the way of the old Irian Guild, then he wouldn't tell a soul."

    "...Actually, didn't Mitrofan say something about that house?" Arian recalled. "He said he'd have words for them…"

    "...So he's headed up here, then." The Swampert's expression turned serious once again. "...We need to call an emergency meeting about this. Could you tell everyone? They're all in the canteen right now, eating dinner."

    "We'll do that," Elvira promised.

    "Thank you," Melchior said gratefully.

    Team Elpis went to go and tell everyone. The Swampert watched them leave the room.


    Thank the Creator you didn't perish. I don't know if I could forgive myself if that ever happened…





    At that emergency meeting, the whole Guild had been informed of that situation. There was a general reaction of shock and anger at what had happened to Team Elpis and Team Sandstream.

    But at that meeting, Melchior had made a critical decision.

    The Guild was to be abandoned, and everyone was to scatter to various locations in the vicinity of Kamengrad, where they could still at least be within reach of one another.

    This was met with a degree of reluctance and misgiving among all who heard the speech. But they all agreed it was for the best.

    And so they scattered. Arian and Elvira were sent to a smallish church to the north of Kamengrad, where they were taken into sanctuary by a elderly but kindly priest. They spent the night in the church.

    Now it was morning, and Elvira had just penned a letter to her mother informing her what had happened the day before. As she walked into the aisles, she found herself faced with the priest that had taken her and Arian in.

    "Hello, Miss Elvira." He was a Noctowl. "Did you sleep well?"

    "...As well as I could," was the Treecko's reply. "...Um. I was hoping to get this letter posted to my mom, but…I don't think going into town would be a wise move on my part."

    "Ah, don't worry. I can do that," the priest volunteered. Elvira handed him the letter, which he took in his beak and placed on one of the nearby pews.

    Something occurred to her at that moment. "Where's Arian?" she asked. She was too busy writing the letter earlier to realise her partner had gone out of the room where they had spent the night.

    "Over there." The Noctowl gestured a wing to where the blue canine was kneeling in one of the pews. "Seems he's doing some praying."

    "Praying?" Elvira's brow furrowed at this. "He doesn't usually pray…I'll see what's going on with him."

    She went over to where her partner was kneeling. His eyes were closed, and his paws were clasped together. As she came closer, he opened his eyes, and looked at her.

    "...Hi," he greeted halfheartedly.

    "Hello," Elvira returned. "...Are you praying? I must admit, I've never seen you do that since we met."

    "...Yeah," Arian confessed. "I might as well try. Maybe a god does exist out there that can give us good luck, or whatever. I just don't want bad things to keep happening…"

    "...There are gods depicted in just about every church in Ardalion," Elvira replied, feeling somewhat puzzled at his words. "Are you…questioning the existence of them?"

    "...You don't?"

    "No. I've never questioned it. I mean, the world and all its constructs had to be created by someone, right? Hence, Arceus and His pantheon."

    "...It feels more authentic here," the Riolu muttered. "...I don't think we had a god in the human world."

    "What?" Elvira frowned at this. "You don't have gods?"

    "...I don't think so. At least…from what vague memories I have of the human world. There was definitely religion, and churches just like this one. But…I don't know. Something about being religious…just doesn't sit right with me. As if being in a religion and believing in a god was…something I wasn't fond of."

    "A god?" The Treecko emphasised Arian's use of the singular. "Only one?"

    "Yeah, I think so. And I guess there's a religion that believed he created everything. And yet…" Arian paused, considering his words. "...Somehow, I remember the words 'Big Bang' when I think of 'creation of a world'."

    "Big Bang?" Now she was even more confused. "What, was the human world created by an explosion?"

    "Maybe?" Arian shrugged. "Possibly. As if there was an explosion one day in empty space - poof - " He mimed one. " - And with that, matter settled, and planets formed, including Earth, where humans lived."

    "Earth? So that's the name of your home," Elvira murmured. Admittedly, the talk about 'matter' and 'planets' went over her head.

    "Yes. But I can't get back there. So I'd rather not talk about it," Arian immediately replied, before changing the subject back to the original topic. "Besides…somehow, this world's depiction of gods feels more authentic to me. And…who knows? Maybe one of them will take pity on us. Might as well give it a shot, I thought. I just…" He let out a big sigh. "...It's my fault that all this has happened."

    "Arian, stop." Elvira had this same conversation with him yesterday evening. "Don't blame yourself. You'll only feel worse about yourself. Melchior said the same thing. And even if that detail hadn't slipped out, we still would've had that confrontation with Metody and Mitrofan. And Team Sandstream still would've suffered the injuries they did."

    "...We could've acted sooner to help them," Arian muttered in self-admonishment. "If only I hadn't been pinned by those knights…If only we'd have seen what Nikita and Metody would do to them…!"

    "That should be blame on their part, not yours," Elvira went on. "Besides, if we did nothing, then Team Sandstream would have definitely drowned. They may be in a bad way…but they're not dead. That much, we can be thankful for."

    "...I don't want them to die," Arian said quietly. "Of everyone in the Guild, we've known them the longest. We wouldn't have defeated Hinnerk without their help. Without them, we would have been dead. In that fight, they definitely saved us."

    "They did. And on this occasion, we saved them," Elvira reminded. "They'll probably be full of thanks when they're in a better condition. …They'll recover, Arian. Diarmuid and Gráinne are looking after them, as well as Raya. They're skilled in that craft. We can trust them."

    "...It sounded serious from what I've heard," Arian refuted pessimistically. "...I don't want them to die. I don't want our friends to die…" He sounded close to tears.

    "They'll pull through, Arian. They're strong." It irked Elvira that she couldn't think of a better reply in that moment. "But please…don't beat yourself up over it. They would probably say the same thing."

    "...I guess. They would. I can even hear Ishmael now. 'Don't be a misery-boots, Arry, mate!'" the Riolu mimicked, in an admittedly not great imitation of the Krokorok's distinctive accent.

    Elvira couldn't help but give a slight giggle. At this, Arian's expression did brighten slightly.

    "There. A sad face doesn't suit you, Arian," she said. "...Remember when we first met and you were the one cheering me up?"

    "Yeah…How could I?" the Riolu reminisced. "...How long's it been? A month? Two months?"

    "Nearly two months. …Time flies," Elvira murmured.

    "...It sure does," Arian replied. He did sound slightly better, but by the sound of it, the melancholy still persisted with him.

    "...We should go to Diarmuid and Gráinne's," Elvira suggested. "See if they need any help."

    "...I suppose. It's the least we could do." Arian got up from his kneeling position. But before they could move, the Noctowl's voice echoed through the church.

    "...Hello there. Whoever might you be, fellow Sister? And whatever brings you here?"

    Arian and Elvira looked over. The priest seemed to be addressing a visitor at the front of the church.

    "Greetings to you, fellow follower of our Creator." The voice was feminine. "I am Archbishop Lachesis, and I have a letter for Guildmaster Melchior of the Irian Guild."

    "Archbishop Lachesis?" Arian's ears pricked at this. "Sounds like an important figure. I say we go see what this is all about."

    "A-Archbishop Lachesis?" The priest sounded quite surprised. "Y-You mean…the Archbishop Lachesis? The newly appointed Bishop of Metaxai?"

    "The very same."

    "...F-Forgive me, Your Grace." The Noctowl bowed in slight shame, still rather surprised by the presence of this woman. "I did not realise. I did not think someone of such influence would come and visit my humble little oratory out here in rural Nagoria."

    "It's alright. I dressed discreetly so I wouldn't be noticed in public." As she was saying this, Arian and Elvira came closer, they got a glimpse of the one claiming to be Archbishop Lachesis.

    Admittedly…they weren't blown away by her. She was a Cinccino, and she did at the least look like a holy woman, with a cross-wheel necklace and what looked to be a nun's habit. One thing that struck them was the woman's youth - she looked no older than thirty. However, that was it. The word 'archbishop' conjured the image of a dignified, robed individual, like Sansarn and Khariton had been, and the one before them didn't follow them in that image.

    Still…they heard her words about dressing discreetly. In that context, it made sense.

    "Hm? You have visitors to your church," noted Lachesis, pointing to the duo behind the Noctowl priest. "...A Riolu and a Treecko? …Hold on a minute. Excuse me, you two."

    "Yes?" Elvira asked. "You mean us."

    "I do. …Would you be Arian and Elvira of Team Elpis, by any chance?" the Cinccino asked.

    "...Yes, that's us. …You know of us?" Arian tilted his head.

    "His Holiness Pontifex Sansarn informed me of the two of you," Lachesis explained. "He told me of his journey to Selenia, and how he took into sanctuary four mercenaries of the Irian Guild. Two of whom were you."

    "Yes. That's correct," Elvira confirmed.

    "He suggested to me that I go over and see the land of Selenia for myself. That I needed to get out of Metaxai and observe the way Selenians did things," Lachesis went on. "And while I was in Selenia, I was to deliver to a letter in secret to the famed Mud Bomber Melchior in Kamengrad. Thus…that brought me here." She took out the item in question.

    "That seal…" The Noctowl was astonished to see the particular seal on the envelope. "That's a seal from the office of His Holiness himself. …That's legitimate. Goodness gracious me…"

    "Um…we can take that," offered Elvira. "We can deliver it to him for you."

    "...Very well. But it is critical that the information in there be shared only amongst the mercenaries of the Irian Guild," Lachesis advised. "It would not be ideal if another party got their hands on it."

    It's like the world just wants to remind me of my failure yesterday, Arian couldn't help but dejectedly think. Even if it's some stranger I've never met saying this.

    "We'll deliver this to him," Elvira said. "...We have to go somewhere first, but we'll find him after we're done there."

    "Thank you," Lachesis said appreciably, handing the letter to them. "May the Creator guide your path. And…may your nation eventually know freedom."

    "Thank you, Your Grace." The Treecko bowed. In reaction to his partner, Arian chose to bow too.

    They both left after this. Lachesis watched them go.

    So they were who His Holiness wished for me to see. Hmm…they didn't look that remarkable to me. But who knows? Maybe there's something in them.

    While she was lost in thought, the Noctowl priest came up to her.

    "Forgive my impudence, Your Grace. But…may I ask why it is you here, and not a lower-ranking messenger? Surely the Archbishop of Metaxai would have many duties upon her plate?"

    "...His Holiness has his reasons for sending me here, and so do I," Lachesis chose to say. "Let us leave it at that."

    I do have reasons, alright. …Anything that involves me being away from them.





    "I think it's best we stay out of town for now," Elvira suggested. "It reduces the chance of us being recognised if Mitrofan and his knights happen to be there looking for us."

    "Yeah…That would be for the best," Arian agreed.

    Despite receiving the letter, Elvira wanted to stick to the original plan and check in on Team Sandstream. To get to Diarmuid and Gráinne's, the two had to walk over rocky grassland typical of the Karstlands. It took a while, leaping over boulders and walking across exposed limestone, and Arian was careful not to trip on the gaps between the blocks of stones.

    Clints are the stones, and…grikes are the gaps between them, he recalled, remembering the afternoon he'd spent with Elvira in the information centre in Kamengrad about the Karstlands.

    Eventually, they made it to the east road out of Kamengrad that led towards Scree Canyon. From there, they had to head towards town, and a little ways before town, they saw the side road that went down to Diarmuid and Gráinne's. They headed down it, and reached the building in question. On the front of it, there was a sign reading 'SORRY, WE'RE CLOSED' stuck to the door.

    Arian rang the bell outside the house. There was shuffling inside, before the door was opened.

    "Oh, it's…the two of you." Gráinne had answered the door. The Flygon looked tired, a sign she hadn't gotten much sleep. "Good morning…"

    "Hi, Gráinne," Elvira greeted. "We've, um…We've come to see Ishmael, Axel and Lillian."

    "...Come in, then," the Flygon offered. Arian and Elvira followed her into the house. Given it was a shop, there was a counter and a number of herbs and potions stacked up on the shelves behind it.

    Gráinne opened the latch at the counter's edge, and let herself, Arian and Elvira through. She opened the door in the back, and allowed Team Elpis in. They were led through a small hallway and into a room at the very back.

    In there…lay all three members of Team Sandstream. Ishmael, Axel and Lillian all lay on beds in what was a makeshift sickbay. On the floor beside each bed was a basin for vomit, and by the smell of the room, they had been used for that purpose. Each member was wrapped up in blankets, and Lillian and Axel were both asleep. Ishmael, however, happened to be awake, and was talking to Diarmuid, as well as Rhiannon, who was also there. Raya was also in the room, though she was checking on the condition of the other two.

    "...I swear, I'll get that weasel if it's the last thing I do…" He sounded angry…or about as angry as someone could be in a condition like his. He sounded weak, with all the bite taken out of his voice.

    "Ishy, please…" Rhiannon sounded emotional. Arian recalled last night she'd been bawling her eyes out over the news of Team Sandstream's condition. "You nearly drowned yesterday. You're not well. When you're better, you can start saying that. But right now, you need rest…"

    "Rhiannon is quite right," Diarmuid agreed. "You're in no shape to even get out of that bed, Ishmael. You should be asleep, like your cousins."

    "I know, Uncle Diarmuid, I know…" Ishmael lay back in the bed, too tired to argue with the Gliscor. He blinked his eyes, ready to fall back asleep. But just before he did…he caught sight of two familiar faces. Well, three, if Gráinne was included.

    "Arry! And El too," he greeted, perking up slightly. "Good to see yer doin' okay…"

    "...At least you're still yourself," Arian remarked. Still…it hurts to see him like this. "How are you holding up?"

    "...I feel like complete shit," came the crocodile's reply. "Don't got the energy to do nothin' 'cept just lie here and take Uncle Diarmuid's shit-tasting medicine. Oh, and throw up a bunch too."

    "You need that medicine," Diarmuid defended. "You, who nearly died yesterday. Thank the heavens you saved them, you two." He directed this at Arian and Elvira. "I don't know what we'd have done if our son was killed by a marshal. Same with Lillian, and you, Ishmael. I don't know if I'd be able to break that news to Conall and Caitríona if you'd died yesterday..."

    "Conall and Caitríona…" It occurred to Arian that it had been a while since they'd seen Lillian's parents. "Did you tell them about what happened?"

    "I wrote a letter to them this morning," Gráinne answered.

    "Right." Arian nodded in understanding. He was about to say more, but at that moment, a bell sounded.

    "What's that for?" he asked. Both he and Elvira tensed, fearful that the knights might have caught up with them.

    "Oh, that's probably Melchior at the front door," Gráinne replied. "He came by this morning and volunteered to pick herbs for us while we watched the kids."

    "Melchior?" Then Arian remembered. "We need to talk to him. We have something for him."

    "Do you? Well, come with me then," Diarmuid offered. "I'll get the door. You watch them, dear," he offered to his wife.

    "Very well." The Flygon flew over to Ishmael's bedside, while her husband headed out the door and to the front entrance. He opened the door, and it was as he predicted: Melchior was there, along with Terran. Both held a bag of herbs in their hands.

    "Welcome back," Diarmuid said to him. "Arian and Elvira showed up while you were gone."

    "Ah. Hello, you two." Melchior waved to them. "Good to see you're still okay."

    "Yeah, we're fine," Elvira said to him. "The priest looked after us."

    "Good to hear. …Now then. Where do you want these, Diarmuid?" Melchior asked, stepping inside.

    "Just in behind the counter there." The Gliscor pointed a pincer in that general direction.

    "Thanks." The Swampert headed there, followed by his assistant. However, Terran and Arian happened to lock eyes, and the Riolu saw full well the glare that came from the Larvitar aimed at him.

    I don't blame him for being mad at me, he thought. I did let that slip. …Just wish he didn't have to rub it in…

    Luckily, Elvira's words drew him away from those negative thoughts.

    "Melchior," she piped up. "We have something for you."

    "Something for me?" The guildmaster tilted his head. "What is it?"

    "It's a letter," Arian explained. As he spoke, his partner took the item out of their bag. "Actually…it's apparently from Pontifex Sansarn."

    "Pontifex?" Diarmuid was surprised to hear this. "You have a line to the pontifex? …I don't know how you do it, Melchior..."

    "Thank them, not me," the Swampert replied, gesturing to Arian and Elvira. "Without them, I wouldn't have that connection in the first place."

    "Perhaps it's news on Leonid? Maybe he's found him," Elvira speculated hopefully. She handed the letter to Melchior.

    "Only one way to find out." Melchior took the letter from her, and unsealed the envelope. He looked at the letter, and showed it to Team Elpis so they could read it too.





    To Guildmaster Melchior of the Irian Guild,

    I hope you are in good health. I write to you now from the Holy Cathedral of Padavonum, having returned from my visit to the Tsardom of Selenia, and the meeting I had with four of your mercenaries: Serafina and Natalie of Team Anima, and Arian and Elvira of Team Elpis. Whilst I kept them in sanctuary from Mitrofan and the Knights of Iria, I made a promise to them that I would search through the Church records to seek out where Prince Leonid Klimentovich Ruslan, tsesarevich of Selenia, travelled to since his flight from his native country with his betrothed, Princess Svetlana Gerasimovna Lysagora. Having made inquiries, I will now relay my findings to you.

    After his flight from Selenia, Prince Leonid sojourned in the presence of House Navarra for approximately one year, where he attempted to negotiate aid from His Excellency Emperor Annibale to retake Selenia from Mitrofan's grasp. Alas, he was unsuccessful in this regard, and no aid was given, despite the lobbying of other exiled Selenian lords for the same goal.

    Having failed in this venture, he headed south, to try and persuade Miletos in the same goal. Here, he sojourned with House Spyros, and tried to negotiate a similar arrangement with His Eminence Archon Pyrrhus. Once again, alas, he was unsuccessful. From here, the trail seems to have gone cold. He and Princess Svetlana left Strategos Khalkos's villa in Ithiki one night some three years ago, and he has not been seen since by any noble house in the East.

    However, Prince Leonid did not disappear. Having failed to acquire aid from the East, he turned his gaze north, and headed towards Alba to get aid from there. This information is new to us in the East, and only came to light after an inquiry with Archdruid Cathbad. They informed me that Prince Leonid came to Breifne, seeking aid from Rí Trahaern Gwyrddach Ó Riagáin to retake Selenia from Mitrofan. Though the rí wasn't unwilling, it would appear he had contention over Prince Leonid's ability to become a leader. Thus, he would not grant the tsesarevich the aid he desired unless he became apt in the skill of leadership. That is where he has remained for the last three years, waiting for the day when he will be able to take his nation from the clutches of Mitrofan and alleviate the suffering of his people.

    That is all the information I have for you. Do with it what you will. However you use this information, may you be guided by the light of our Creator, and make the righteous judgement that will alleviate your country's suffering.


    His Holiness
    Bishop of Padavonum
    Pontifex Maximus of the Church of Lord Arceus the Creator
    Illuminatus Conchylius Sansarn.






    "...Alba…So that's where he's been," Elvira said. "All this time, he was in Alba?"

    "We've been thinking he was in the East," Melchior remarked. "That's what I thought, too. I considered that he might've gone to Alba, but I didn't think it was likely, given Alba and Selenia's relations in the years before Mitrofan."

    "Hm? Wait a minute…" This was new to Arian. "What do you mean, Melchior?"

    "...It's to do with a political pivot towards building bridges with the East that was one of Kliment's policies," the Swampert explained. "He wished to break down the centuries-long animosity between the halves of Ardalion, and make greater progress towards friendship with Dresilia and Miletos. It wasn't a new strategy - other tsars have tried the same thing. The problem is…whenever they have, Alba has never taken it well."

    "And why's that?"

    "You surely know by now that Selenia and the Eastern countries don't get along," Elvira elaborated. "However, that's nothing compared to Alba. Alba despises the East, and they in turn despise them. They've fought many wars, and they rarely ever communicate diplomatically. Therefore, Selenia's the only potential ally they have. And if Selenia start pivoting towards being friendly to the East…then Alba will be in real bother."

    "Oh, I see." Arian nodded in understanding. "So Alba needs Selenia as its ally."

    "Yes. But…a fair amount of Albans don't like Selenia," Melchior went on. "They see us as weak-willed and pathetic, especially in regards to us being allies. …It's certainly true on the mercenaries' side. Some Alban mercenaries mock the Irian Guild for being spineless and weak. Kallias and I have certainly been on the receiving end of insults like that. …Granted, a quick tussle would shut them up. In Alba, you don't insult those stronger than you."

    "But that's not true of all Albans, is it?" Elvira asked. "Dad said you and him cooperated with the Breifne Guild on a few occasions."

    "We did, indeed. And you're right, Elvira," the Swampert acknowledged. "Many more Albans like Selenians. They see us as a breath of fresh air compared to those in the East. Besides…they clearly didn't hate Prince Leonid enough to kick him out of the country. There must be more to this than meets the eye. We must get to him as soon as possible. And that means sending someone to meet him in Breifne."

    "...A pity we can't send Team Sandstream," Arian remarked. "They're from Alba. They'd know the culture."

    "They would know. But I'd have to object to that, even if they were fit to go."

    "Ah!" Arian was startled, before looking to the counter. Perched behind it was Diarmuid. "Oh, sorry, Diarmuid. Didn't see you there."

    "Sorry. Couldn't help but overhear your conversation. But don't worry," the Gliscor quickly added. "Your secret's safe with us about that." He jabbed a pincer towards the letter.

    "Thanks, Diarmuid," Melchior replied. "...But what do you mean? Why would you object to sending Team Sandstream into Alba?"

    "Because of events that happened some ten years ago," Diarmuid answered. "I won't go into the specifics about it all. But the end result was that Gráinne and I, along with Conall and Caitríona, fled our village of Ardmacha and left Alba altogether to settle in Selenia. Part of why we left was…disgust with the culture. The idea that anyone could worm their way into a position of power, just because of how strong they are…it didn't sit right with us, especially after what had happened."

    "What happened?" Arian wondered.

    "That's not relevant to this conversation," the Gliscor immediately shut down. Arian, reminded of his unintentional prying, guiltily kept his mouth shut. "The point is that Ishmael, Axel and Lillian…they all know it. They all know that strength isn't everything. Strength can't keep a family fed. Strength can't bring back loved ones lost to you. They're not stupid. They were like us. They saw that when Ardmacha lost its Chief…it lost its soul. We all left the country and never came back. We still haven't gone back, and we have no intention to. Not even for something like this."

    "...Is that so?" Melchior's face showed a small hint of disappointment. "...It wasn't like I could ask for their help anyway, given their condition. Hmm…who instead?" He looked at the two mercenaries before him. He seemed to consider options and weigh up the thoughts in his head, before making a decision.

    "...Arian. Elvira. Could I…entrust you with this duty? The duty of meeting with Prince Leonid?"

    "Hold up." Arian thought he'd heard wrong. "You want us to go meet with Leonid?"

    "I do. To be honest…apart from the marshals, I can't think of anyone else," Melchior responded. "I can't go to Alba and leave my Guild members to fend for themselves against Mitrofan, who's actively seeking us out right now. Team Anima wouldn't be familiar enough with the dry desert terrain of Alba. As well as that, they tend to look down on nobles. Team Mindfist would weather it a little better, but I don't believe they have enough experience for a long trek across Alba."

    "But we're the newest team you have," the Riolu pointed out. "How come we're your first choice?"

    "...Because of the familial connection." Melchior looked at Elvira as he said this. "You being the daughter of Fernblade Kallias, Elvira…that might give the Albans cause to listen to you too. Fernblade Kallias is known all across Ardalion, and especially among those in the mercenary sphere, which Alba is heavily involved in. I know you don't like being compared to your father, but…"

    "...I don't. I want to forge my own path as a mercenary," Elvira replied. "...But I see where you're coming from, Melchior. It's a card I'll play if we need it. …Just know that I won't be shouting it from the rooftops."

    "I'm not expecting you to," came the guildmaster's reply. "I wouldn't place a burden like that on you. ...Are you both okay handling the mission I've entrusted to you?"

    "...Yes, Melchior. We are," the Treecko responded, with some degree of determination.

    "...I suppose if you really think we're the best…" Arian replied, though he still didn't feel confident that they were the best choice.

    "That's the spirit." Melchior couldn't help but smile. "Go and make preparations. It's going to be a long trip to Breifne, in Alba's north."

    "And across a desert, too…" Elvira acknowledged. "It won't be a joke, that's for sure."

    "But where do we prepare?" Arian pointed out. "We can't go into Kamengrad, because the knights might see us."

    "I've considered that. And I've made alternate arrangements," Melchior revealed. "There's a village to the north of here by the name of Kitesh. It's along the main road from Selenia to Dresilia. In fact…it's where Lex and Isaac are staying. You can make your preparations there."

    "Lex and Isaac are there?" Arian replied. He had mixed feelings about this; on the one hand, he and Lex were on good terms with one another, but on the other, he wasn't looking forward to the inevitable beratement from Isaac about not keeping his mouth shut. It would be just like the Espeon to deliver a cold, hard truth in a manner that did not soften any blows.

    "They are. In fact, they hail from that village. They'll be able to help you out, no doubt," Melchior replied.

    "...I say we don't waste any more time," the human said with initiative. "The sooner we go to Alba and bring Leonid back to Selenia, the sooner we can overthrow Mitrofan and end this nightmare."

    "Agreed," Elvira seconded.

    "Then…I suppose it's farewell, for a while," Melchior said. "You've been working diligently for the past few weeks. You certainly have the work ethic of most mercenaries, that's for sure. You're already proving to be an asset to our Guild. That's why I feel confident to entrust this mission to you."

    "…Thanks, Melchior," Arian said. He would feel flattered if not for his self-doubt.

    "Now then…go and meet with Prince Leonid. Make the Guild proud." Melchior stood out of the way of the door, and watched the Elpis duo leave the apothecary's.

    "...How do you do it, Melchior? Where do you find them?" Diarmuid asked jokingly, shaking his head. The Swampert shrugged in response.

    "What can I say? Good fortune?"





    "So…the village of Kitesh is along the road we were on, where the church was," Elvira directed, looking at a map. Once again, they were travelling through the limestone fields, stepping over large stones and leaping over limestone slabs. "We just need to keep heading north from there."

    "Right, then." Arian paused as he righted himself on an elliptical rock. "Are there any Mystery Dungeons along the way?"

    "Not according to this map, no," the Treecko answered. "It should be an uneventful trip. …Hopefully."

    "Famous last words," Arian half-joked dryly, inwardly hoping his partner's words would prove true. I don't need another confrontation with knights. Not after yesterday… He shook his head in an effort to dispel those negative thoughts.

    They eventually rejoined the road north, and walked north, back the way they came. They soon passed by the church they stayed at, and happened to see the Noctowl priest from before.

    "Thanks for letting us stay!" Elvira called to him.

    "Not at all!" the owl called back. "May the Creator guide your path, you two!"

    That was the last conversation they had with another person for a while. The trek to Kitesh was rather quiet, with them only seeing the occasional passerby merchant. Thankfully, no knights crossed their path.

    They left the Karstlands and found themselves in the grassy uplands of the Nagoria oblast. This area was still quite rocky, just like the Karstlands, and stone walls separated the fields from the dusty road. Looking around him, Arian could see this area as being a bit more inhabited, with the occasional stone cottage, next to which were fields in which berries, oats and other crops were being grown.

    "I remember from that book I was reading," Arian mentioned, breaking a small period of silence. "They say the hero Gamaliel came from here, apparently."

    "That's true." Elvira said, remembering her partner had indeed been reading a book on that period of history. "This was the worst affected region in all of Selenia during the Famine two hundred years ago. Nowhere in Selenia escaped it, but Nagoria got hit the hardest."

    "...I suppose if you were in the middle of it all, you would feel compelled to do something about it," the Riolu murmured. "Hey…have you thought that maybe the situation with Mitrofan right now is similar to the one two hundred years ago?"

    "...Honestly? No," admitted Elvira. "Back then, people were dying en masse, to the point where bodies piled up because people were too weak to bury them properly. More to the point, it was the neglect of Tsar Rihard and the outside force of the East that played into the awfulness of the Famine. This time, it's an inside force that's put things out of whack. But not so much that it can be compared to the East's leadership. Say what you want about Mitrofan…but he hasn't caused catastrophe to the level of the Famine two hundred years ago."

    "...I guess you're right," Arian agreed, seeing his partner's point. Still…that doesn't mean he's a good leader we shouldn't overthrow.

    "The worst part is that if this all works out, Prince Leonid and us will inevitably be compared to Tsar Kaloyan and Team Hope," Elvira went on. "But it's not an apt comparison. It would be disrespectful to all those that perished two hundred years ago. It's not comparable to the Famine War. It just isn't."

    "...Let's cross that bridge when we come to it, maybe?" Arian suggested. "Let's worry about that when Mitrofan's overthrown. Let's just focus on the path ahead of us."

    "Right. Of course."

    They continued along the road. Once again, it was another beautiful day, with the sun shining brightly. Alas, there was no pleasant sea breeze like there was back at Elvira's house. Thus, the warm day was ever so slightly more unpleasant.

    Elvira's words in Cyan Cove about the warm climate in Selenia recently came back to him. And these thoughts seemed to compliment passing words from two Pokémon who happened to be tending a field they were passing by.

    "Gods, if only we had some rain…We haven't been having much at all recently."

    "Why hasn't it been raining?"

    "Dunno, boy. But we'd better get some soon, otherwise we ain't gonna have much of a harvest. And I'll bet Ol' Mitt won't come to help us either."

    "It's a shame. I was actually kind of excited for him. I think he might do things differently, you know? Because Kliment sure wasn't that great either…"

    Hm. Guess some people didn't like Kliment either, Arian observed. I guess you can't please everyone. …Still, though. The harvest might fail? That's not good. Especially given what Elvira and I were just talking about…

    He worried about this matter all along the trek to Kitesh.





    Around early afternoon, they saw a wooden arch with writing atop it reading 'Welcome to Kitesh'. As they crossed past the town's perimeter and into the town itself, they looked around. It seemed to be relatively small, with not a huge amount of traffic going about the town. There was the odd merchant peddling their wares, as there was in nearly every town, but overall, it was a quiet place. Fitting for a town in what was perhaps Selenia's most rural oblast.

    Walking through the street, Arian and Elvira looked around them. At the very least, by the looks of things, there did look to be enough services in the town that they could reasonably prepare for their trip to Alba. A Kecleon Shop, a Klefki Bank, a Kangaskhan Storage - all the facilities were here, much to their relief.

    Team Elpis were about to hit up the Kecleon Shop and get started on their preparations. However, movement from another building drew their attention.

    The door opened in a house across from them. Outside stepped four figures - a Nidoking, a Rampardos…along with a Cranidos and an Espeon.

    The latter two were recognised by Team Elpis. And in turn, Team Mindfist recognised them.

    "Hey! Arian! Elvira!" Lex called.

    "Lex!" Arian called back, perking up a bit. "Good to see you!"

    "You too, man!" The Cranidos trotted over to them. "How're you doing?"

    "...As good as we can be at a time like this," Arian murmured. "But hey - the knights haven't got us. Not yet, at least." Look on the bright side, I guess.

    "That is a good sign." Isaac chose that moment to intervene. "Proof that Mud Bomber Melchior is a diligent thinker. …A pity it had to come in a situation like this, where one of our own let loose the details. The knights didn't even have to send in a spy."

    "I didn't mean to!" Arian cried, once the Espeon turned a look of accusation his way. "I'm sorry…I-I'll try and be better in future."

    "Here's hoping you keep to that," Isaac returned. "We can't have our secrets being leaked to our enemies all because one of our own can't keep his mouth shut."

    "Don't blame him, Isaac," Elvira criticised. "Arian wasn't the only one at fault. We all were. We should've realised someone as crafty as Metody would have spies in every corner of his own town."

    "Hmph. Never underestimate the sly ones," the Espeon retorted. "Miss nothing around them. Because they will take full advantage of what you miss."

    "Hey, Isaac. Give it a rest, will you?" the Nidoking said. "These things happen. And they said they'll keep an eye out the next time. What more do you want from them?"

    "Yes, Isaac," the Rampardos joined in. "They're your friends. Don't be mean to them."

    "...I'm merely reminding them to be vigilant," Isaac defended. "When you're an outlaw, you can't be anything but. Get complacent and your enemies will capitalise on that in an instant."

    "...Er, anyway." Lex chose to change the topic to try and prevent his partner from ruffling more feathers. "Why are you here, you two?"

    "Well - " Arian was about to answer. However, the conversation with Isaac just now made him stop himself before he could reveal their mission. "We can't talk about it here. It's a secret."

    "See, Ise? He's learned his lesson," the Cranidos said to his partner. He then turned back to Arian. "...But what is it?"

    "How about you come inside and tell us?" suggested the Nidoking, before looking at the Rampardos. "Irma, would you mind getting the stuff for tonight's dinner?"

    "Of course, dear," the Rampardos promised, before kissing him on the cheek. She then left for the marketplace.

    "...Now then. Come in," the Nidoking offered. "We'll discuss it over some tea."





    "So…Prince Leonid, eh?"

    The house, as it turned out, belonged to Lex's parents. They were the Nidoking and Rampardos that were accompanying Team Mindfist. By the looks of the house, which looked quite nice although not too fancy, it seemed they were doing alright income-wise.

    Team Elpis sat down in the kitchen with Team Mindfist, while the Nidoking, who introduced himself as Shura, brewed some tea. He then gave it to them, and they told him and their fellow mercenaries about their mission.

    "So Prince Leonid's alive after all, huh?" Lex said. "Who would've thought?"

    "I had an inkling those rumours weren't mere bluster," Isaac stated. "That being said…I am surprised he's in Alba. It must be a move of desperation, after the East rebuffed his efforts to take back his country. …If I must be honest, that's a foolish move on their part. If they worked to take back his kingdom, they would have stronger reassurance in an ally of theirs, and they could turn Selenia against the East's greatest enemy, Alba, and use them as a point to start invading from. But they've lost that chance now. And if Leonid strikes up an alliance with the Albans and rebuffs the East, then we might be in danger of more West-East polarisation. That was a missed opportunity. I didn't think Annibale and Pyrrhus were that short-sighted. Then again, not since Empress Minerva have we ever had - "

    "Ise," Lex interjected. "You're rambling again."

    "...Apologies," Isaac finished, although there was a sense he was somewhat annoyed at being cut off.

    "...I'll be real. All this political mumbo-jumbo's beyond me," the Cranidos went on. "The whole point is, get Leonid, overthrow Mitrofan and Selenia'll be safe again."

    "Essentially," Arian replied. "At least…that's what we hope." After saying this, he was then reminded of the conversation he overheard during the trek to Kitesh, and realised something.

    Even if Mitrofan's overthrown, there's still a whole lot wrong with the world to be sorted out. Like this unnaturally hot spell Selenia's been having. That's some divine power Mitrofan can't control. …Maybe after getting him out, we can turn our attention to figuring that all out.

    "Well, I wish you the best of luck," Shura said in support. "You've been good friends with my boy and Isaac. It's good to meet you two. …Oh, which reminds me." He turned his attention to Elvira. "Elvira, is it? Is it true you're the daughter of Fernblade Kallias?"

    "...Yes," Elvira chose to answer. There's no point hiding it. "I am."

    "...I never knew the man had a kid," the Nidoking said. "Like father, like daughter, eh?"

    "...I suppose. But…I want to be my own person," the Treecko told him. "I don't want to ride on the coattails of what my dad achieved. I want to develop my own style of fighting, and become known as a legendary mercenary in my own right. Dad himself said he'd rather I did that."

    "...You've a point there," accepted the Nidoking. "Not every parent wants their kid to follow in their footsteps. I mean…not even four years ago, I was a bricklayer struggling to make ends meet. And my boy Lex was learning all of what I'd learned and gaining all of my skills. I'll be honest, I didn't want him to become a bricklayer like me. The pay's awful, and I didn't want him going hungry once he became an adult 'mon. So imagine my surprise when Lex showed up at the front door one day after being missing for a while and said, 'I wanna be a mercenary!' I was surprised, but…I accepted it. Being a merc's far better than being a bricklayer. And Lex can hold himself in a fight, so he's fit to be one."

    "I sure can!" The Cranidos smiled proudly. "We've beaten a load of outlaws already. And yeah, I'm not a thinker…But Ise can do that for me!"

    "...I can't do all the thinking," Isaac returned. "In a scenario where we're separated from one another - which may well happen - you're going to have to fend for yourself on the strategy side of things."

    "But strategy's hard…" whined Lex.

    "Find a way to get around your aversion to it," Isaac replied. "At least your muscle memory's proving to be quite good. Try to use that to your advantage to overcome your…problems with strategy."

    "...I guess I'll try that when we train next…" Alas, the Cranidos didn't sound that confident.

    "...Moving on from that." Isaac turned his attention to Team Elpis. "You said you needed supplies? We'll help you with that."

    "Yeah! Anything for friends." Lex perked up a bit after the strategy conversation. "We know where everything is in Kitesh."

    "Well, off you go, then." Shura waved his hand toward the door. "I won't keep you boys. Go and help Arian and Elvira get ready for their trip across Alba."

    As the four mercenaries got up to head out, they heard the front door open.

    "Ah, that'll be Irma," the Nidoking said. His hunch was confirmed when the Rampardos walked in. "Hello, dear."

    He looked at what she held. In one hand, she held a bag of items. But what was in her other hand caught his attention.

    "A letter?"

    "Yes. The Tropius mailmon gave it to me," Irma informed.

    "Oh!" Lex seemed happy. "It's a letter from Sis! She hasn't written to us in a while!"

    "That's true. She hasn't done it for a while," Shura acknowledged.

    "Your sister?" Arian tilted his head. "You never told us you had a sister, Lex."

    "Well, I do," the Cranidos revealed. "But, well…"

    "There's a good reason we never mentioned it," Isaac immediately took over. "Lex's sister is a knight."

    "A knight?!" Neither member of Team Elpis were prepared for this revelation.

    "Yeah, she's a knight," Lex confirmed. "I don't really bring it up in the Guild much, because, you know..."

    "It would cast unwarranted suspicion towards Lex," Isaac explained. "But you don't need to worry about loyalties with him. Lex is committed to our cause. And should he think otherwise…I'll bring him back in line."

    "Yeah," Lex reassured. "I mean, I love my sis and all. But…I'd never turn away from being a merc."

    "...Does it worry you, though?" Elvira queried. "Your sister being a knight. Being on the opposite side of us. If the two of you meet…what's going to happen?"

    "Well…hopefully that doesn't happen," Lex replied. "But if we did…maybe we could talk it out? I mean, I'm not good with words, but…I could try and tell her to stand down. …Maybe I could even get her to join up with us!"

    "...I wouldn't get your hopes up for that, Lex," Isaac advised. "But all the same…given your bond, it may be worth a shot."

    "Yeah. …But enough about my sis. We got supplies to get," the Cranidos said. "Mom, Dad. I'll read the letter when I get home."

    "Of course, Lex," Irma permitted. "Now go and help Arian and Elvira."

    The two teams left the house, leaving Lex's parents alone, gazing at the letter that Irma had placed on the table.

    "I do hope those two don't meet each other and end up fighting," the Rampardos said with concern. While she spoke, Shura got a small knife from one of the drawers and slit open the envelope.

    Two things were in it - a letter, and a cheque.

    "...There it is," muttered the Nidoking, taking hold of the latter object. "What keeps us out of the slums. What keeps us from going hungry. I'll cash it later."

    "I'm glad she was able to get a good job like a knight. And rise to such a high rank, too," Irma commented. "But…I can't help but wonder. Is she doing the right thing, serving under Mitrofan? And worse still…now that Lex works as a mercenary…she might well be the one assigned to hunt him and the other Guild members down. If they cross paths and end up fighting…" She shut her eyes. "I don't want to imagine it."

    "They're both adults who made their own decisions," Shura replied. "We did warn Lex what he was getting into, but he was dead set on becoming a merc. At the end of the day, we can't stop him if that's what he wants to do. We'd be bad parents if we stifled him."

    "Even so…I don't want the two of them to have to fight each other," Irma expressed worriedly

    "They'll sort it out between themselves. Maybe Lex is right - they might not even meet each other to even have that conversation. …Of course, I do hope things work out. They were very close as children. It would be a great shame if they ended up having to fight one another."

    "...Let's just see what she has to say." Shura unfolded the letter. Irma came around to his side of the table and read the letter with him.

    Hi Mom and Dad,

    I hope you're in good spirits. I know it's been a while since I last wrote to you, but I've been quite busy in Iria lately, tending to my duties in keeping the city free of criminals. Master Mitrofan's been saying I've been doing an excellent job and that I'm an asset to him. I'm flattered to receive praise like that from him. I sure wouldn't have heard praise like that before five years ago.

    I hope to visit Kitesh sometime soon, whenever I can. Maybe if there's a mission that takes me up that way, I might see if I can pay you a visit. Unfortunately, the way things are, I think Master Mitrofan would prefer I was stationed in Iria. And I think that would be for the best, too. Maybe you could come and visit me in Iria? I'd be willing to send over more money to make that happen.


    "Go over to Iria?" Shura considered that. "Perhaps. We haven't been there in a while." He and Irma continued reading.

    Recently, we've had a bit of a ruckus in Iria. You might have heard the news that Hinnerk's been defeated in Ozerograd. I'm glad about that, and so is Master Mitrofan. No one liked that underhanded thief. But the problem is that the pair that defeated him call themselves Team Elpis and are beholden to the Irian Guild, who are bent on taking down Master Mitrofan. They actually appeared in Iria, and I nearly caught them, with the help of Master Mitrofan and Metody. But the Church took them into sanctuary. And you may not believe this, but the Pontifex of all people was there. And of all the things to do, he mocked Master Mitrofan like he was a nobody! Stuck-up Dressie priests - they're all the same. How dare he come into our country and tell us what to do!

    "The pontifex?" Shura hadn't been expecting to read that. "Now that's a surprise. He was in Iria?"

    "Seemingly. But look, Shura." Irma pointed to the name Team Elpis. "Team Elpis…that was what Arian and Elvira called their team, wasn't it?"

    "It was," the Nidoking recalled. "Oh dear…so she's already after Lex's friends..."

    There's also those rumours about whether Prince Leonid is still kicking. I hope they aren't true, but somehow, I feel like they might well be. I won't lie, Mom and Dad. I'm worried about what will happen if it is true. If Leonid manages to regain control of Selenia, then we risk returning to Kliment's days, where just about everyone with some kind of authority hated my guts and nobles could buy their way to powerful positions.

    That won't happen, though. If it ever comes to that, then I'll fight tooth and nail to keep him off the throne. I won't fail in my duty as a knight of Master Mitrofan, and I'll strike down any enemy that crosses my path.

    That's all the news I have to tell you for now. Hopefully I'll be able to write to you more frequently if business in Iria doesn't keep me from the parchment.


    Your loving daughter,

    Ludmila.






    Notes

    How many of you saw that coming?

    Then again, how many of you expected three letters in this chapter? I didn’t either. I’ve no idea how that happened. Funny how things fall together.

    Now for place name lore dump. There’s a few name drops in Sansarn’s letter - let’s go through them.

    Navarra is named for the region of the same name in Spain. Ithiki is a corruption of Ithaca, the Greek island. Breifne is named after the medieval kingdom of the same name in Ireland.

    And finally, Kitesh, name-wise, is based on Kitezh, a mythical city beneath the waters of Lake Svetloyar in central Russia.
     
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    Chapter 22 - Heading North
  • Arukona

    A Scribe Penning His Brainworms
    Location
    Ardalion
    Pronouns
    He/him
    Partners
    1. aggron
    2. sceptile
    Chapter 22
    Heading North

    "Is that everything?" Arian asked. He and Elvira had been shopping for supplies in Kitesh, with the help of Lex and Isaac.

    "I think so." Elvira checked their bag once again. "Oran berries, pecha berries, rawst berries, blast seeds, stun seeds, petrify orb, violent seeds, vile seeds…and a few iron thorns and gravelerocks. I'd say we're pretty good."

    "Remember to conserve water," Isaac advised. "That, I can't emphasise enough. You can survive much longer without food, but you can only survive for two or three days at best without water. No matter how hot Alba gets, never forget this."

    "Gotcha. Thanks for that, Isaac," Arian said.

    "It's all a comrade can do. Anything for greater efficiency," the Espeon returned. "And a lesson for two that probably have never been to Alba before."

    "Have you been to Alba, Isaac?" Elvira replied.

    "...I have, a few times. We live near Alba, after all, and some of their Dungeons have sizable yields of money and items." Isaac's expression then soured. "But I never liked Alban attitudes. 'Strength is everything', and electing their leaders based on that very premise?" He let out a scoff. "How delusional. A good fighter is just that: a good fighter. Not a strategician, and most definitely not someone who can lead a clan. With that attitude, it's no wonder Ceredigonia remains out of their grasp..."

    "Yeah…" Lex said. "I mean, I'm not smart. But…I'm smart enough to know that I'm not smart. I'd be a terrible leader."

    "You don't need to knock yourself down like that, Lex…" Arian said to him.

    "Yes, he does," Isaac immediately refuted. "Never delude yourself into thinking you're a perfect fighter. If Lex acknowledges his weakness, he's a step above those who think they are perfect. There's nothing worse than an idiot in a position of power. And the Alban system lets the door right open to that exact scenario."

    "...Couldn't you say the exact same thing about inheritance, though?" the Riolu refuted. "Every once in a while, you get a leader who gets too big for his boots and the whole nation suffers as a result. I don't really see the difference."

    "...I won't deny that," the Espeon replied. "But with inheritance, one prince or princess is the heir apparent, and that is that. It keeps the incapable halfwits from thinking they have a chance."

    "But is that really fair?" questioned Arian. "Keeping honest people who would make good leaders out of leadership just because of some bad apples?"

    "...You ask for fairness? In leadership?" Isaac shook his head. "In a utopia, maybe. But in the real world, structures and precedent take priority. Hard decisions come into leadership, and leaders have to decide with their head, not their heart. Idiots guided by emotion wouldn't understand this basic rule."

    "They aren't all idiots, though!" Arian argued.

    "I'm aware. But history has shown that fools with power have always led their country to disaster. Case in point: Mitrofan," the Espeon cited. "He could've proven this country could've done without a tsar. He failed, and the end result? His realm is in stagnation. So…back to tsarship we go. Back to a proper system." With a flick of his tail, he walked away from the group.

    "...Sorry about Ise," apologised Lex. "He gets like that…"

    "It's okay, Lex. You did nothing wrong," Elvira assured. "It's Isaac who's at fault here."

    "Yeah…Why does he have to be so cold?" whined Arian. "...He's wrong. We can have fair leaders."

    "Yes. Here's hoping Prince Leonid will be just that," the Treecko wished.

    "I hope so." Arian sounded less confident. Not that he didn't have the same hope as Elvira, but rather…the conversation with Isaac was still revolving itself around in his head.

    We don't have to have an inherited system. …But maybe I just don't understand Alba's problems. He looked at a signpost in town, one of which pointed north.

    Teamhair, Mumhain, ALBA

    Just what awaits us up there?






    "Right…I think we're ready to go," Arian said, after Elvira had double-checked their items again.

    "Yes. Now would be optimal." Isaac looked up at the sun. It was around mid to late afternoon. "You'll still have daylight left in Alba if you leave now. But it will be evening, when the heat won't be quite as stifling."

    "That's a good idea," Elvira agreed. "We don't want to be burned by the desert sun not long after we enter the country."

    The two teams started off down the road. Lex had suggested he and Isaac accompany Team Elpis to the Alban border, since they would be able to get there and back to Kitesh with relative ease. Arian and Elvira accepted the offer, grateful for the help (even if the human was still stewing over the argument he had with Isaac).

    Just as they started, though, they were interrupted by a voice. A familiar voice.

    "Wait! Wait! Team Elpis! Please wait for me!"

    "Hm? That voice…" Arian and Elvira turned around. There, running from the south entrance of town…was Yuliya.

    "Yuliya!" Arian said, surprised to see the Furret. "What are you doing here?"

    "Don't tell me…" A fear came over Elvira. "Has something happened in Kamengrad?"

    "No, nothing," the ex-marshal replied. "But…I came to you to request something."

    "And what would that be?"

    "...Please take me with you." Yuliya's eyes looked pleading. "Please let me go to Alba with you. Guildmaster Melchior's approved of it, but he said I should let you know first."

    "...We have no problem with that," Elvira replied. "But why exactly?"

    "Yeah…You look like you really want in on this," Arian observed.

    "I do," came Yuliya's reply. "I need to see them. I need to see Prince Leonid. And…Svetlana too."

    "Oh yes…Svetlana. Princess Svetlana, I think?" the Riolu recalled. "Married to Leonid, or…engaged to him?" It occurred to him at that moment that he didn't know much about the lady betrothed to Leonid.

    "Yes. The firstborn daughter of Lord Gerasim of the Lysagora oblast. The princess-to-be of Selenia, engaged previously to Prince Kasimir, then to Prince Leonid," Yuliya listed, before revealing something else. "She's also…my sister."

    "Your sister?!" That, Arian wasn't aware of.

    "Gerasimovna Lysagora…You have that same patronym and surname, don't you?" Elvira noted. "I was thinking that name sounded familiar…"

    "Yes. We're both daughters of House Lysagora," Yuliya confirmed. "We loved each other very much. We were practically joined at the hip growing up. It's been five long years since I last saw her. I…want to see her again."

    "Well, of course. Come along," Elvira accepted.

    "Yeah. We could always use more help," Arian concurred. "Especially against the Albans, who are tough as nails, apparently."

    "Hmph. What were we discussing before, Arian?" Isaac reminded, as the group of five started down the road. "All Albans have strength, but no thought. Outthink them and you'll be doing well."

    "That's an easy trap to fall into," Yuliya argued. "There are plenty of Alban strategists. To pretend they're all knuckle-headed warriors will land you in trouble with them."

    "I'm not saying they're all like that," Isaac imparted. "They - "

    "Actually, you just did," Arian cut in, inwardly smug at that counter. "You said 'all' Albans. You never said 'some' Albans."

    "You did," Elvira said in support, and Yuliya even nodded in agreement.

    "...Tch." Isaac silently chose to end the argument there, in annoyance at his mistake.

    Arian felt pretty good about that for a while. Soon, though, his attention turned to the road - or rather, what it had become. The terrain began to rise at this point, and a range of hills suddenly stood right in front of them. He also noticed quite an abundance of trees.

    "We're getting close to Alba," Yuliya noted. "The Forested Upland divides Selenia and Alba."

    "Forests?" That confused Arian. "But I thought we were heading to a desert?"

    "The forest was a Selenian initiative dating back four hundred years," Isaac explained. "It was to keep the desert of Alba from expanding into Selenia. So a wall of trees were planted along this mountain range to keep the desertification at bay. Owing to the fact that the soil begins to get dry here, the roots of these trees expand deep into the earth to extract water from the ground."

    "Oh…interesting."

    "We've had fires, though," Lex said. "Some trees caught fire a few months ago because it was so hot. They were put out before it could get too bad, but…"

    "...It's a bad sign," Isaac murmured. "If this great treescape is threatened…then the desert risks spilling over into Selenia. And that would spell disaster for our nation."

    "...Why has this happened?" Yuliya questioned, to no one in particular. "What is with this heatwave we've had this summer?"

    "You're telling me," Elvira replied. "I've had to live through it too. We've all had to."

    "And the worst thing of all…it's not Mitrofan's doing," Arian added. "Even if we defeat him, that won't stop these unnatural weather events from happening."

    "...Hey, Ise, do you know?" Lex asked. "Do you know why we're getting this hot weather?"

    "...If I knew, I would no doubt have told you," Isaac curtly answered. "No, I do not. I am as in the dark as you all are about this. …I will say one thing, though."

    "And that is…?" Elvira queried.

    "If the summer heat is much hotter and warmer than normal…then we can expect the autumn storms to be much more fierce and harsh," the Espeon theorised. "When heat rises, it cools, condenses and creates clouds. Rain then comes back to the ground in thunderstorms. We call it convectional rainfall. If this amount of heat rises to the air…we can expect the rain to come down in much, much higher levels than normal."

    "...You know your stuff," complimented Yuliya.

    "It pays to know it," was the Espeon's response, holding his head up loftily. "Now come. Let us climb."

    The quintet made their way up the hill ahead of them. While it wasn't the easiest of climbs, it wasn't so difficult that they would need to rest. The hills were rocky as well, and some strata were visible in exposed areas of bedrock. If the dry weather was of any consolation, at least it meant the terrain wasn't muddy at all, and thus their progress was not impeded by muddy, slippery terrain.

    "There are a number of quarries along this range," Isaac stated, at one point during the climb. "A number of Selenian cities have been built using the sandstone rock that is present along the Alban border. The port city of Varana to the west, as well many important buildings in Iria, like the arena and Iria Castle - all were built with northern Selenian sandstone."

    "...Dunno if that's true," Lex said to Elvira, who was near him. He reached out and helped her up a small ledge. "But if it's Ise talking, he's probably right."

    "...You two know each other well," the Treecko remarked. "Are you childhood friends?"

    "No, we're not," the Cranidos replied. "We've only known each other for…two years? I would talk about it, but…" He looked over at Isaac. "Maybe I should keep my mouth shut."

    "Why? Did something bad happen?"

    "...Yeah, pretty much. Me and Ise were saved by the Guild, though, and so we work for 'em. Plus - " Lex was about to go on, but he was cut off by his partner.

    "Don't dawdle, Lex," Isaac called to him. "We can't keep Team Elpis and Yuliya waiting." He then turned to Elvira, and to her surprise…she heard his voice, despite his mouth not moving.

    "That includes you, Elvira. Selenia is depending on you to fetch our tsesarevich. Don't get sidetracked with stories that won't help our cause."

    Telepathy…
    the Treecko realised. "Sorry," she apologised, before catching up to her partner.

    Before long, they had reached the top of another hill. Before them lay a dense treescape.

    "Through there we go," Arian said. "And on the other side…that's where Alba and Prince Leonid are."





    Forested Upland

    S1F



    The five materialised in another forested Dungeon - a common sight in Selenia. However, Arian noticed one key difference between this one and most of the other forest Dungeons.

    "...The trees looked a lot more withered," he noted. This was true - the tall trees did look terribly parched, a sign rain had been in short supply up here.

    "Because it's been so dry…" Elvira noted sadly, looking at the trees.

    "A sorry state of affairs, indeed," murmured Isaac. "...But we are not Kyogre. So onward we march."

    "...Indeed…" Yuliya, though just as sad as Team Elpis, agreed with the Espeon, and went to one of the exits of the room. Team Elpis despondently followed after them.

    The five of them soon arrived at a much more open room. By the looks of it, there were a fair amount of items on the floor.

    "I'll pick off the enemies," Isaac volunteered. He aimed his gaze at a Dartrix that was getting closer to them, and fired a Psybeam at it.

    "I'll get in on that, if you don't mind!" Arian called, stepping in. "I'm not missing out on beating up some ferals!" His claws gave off a metallic sheen, and he slashed with Metal Claw.

    "...If you insist," the Espeon sighed.

    "Hey, don't forget about me!" Lex eagerly seconded, and stamped his foot to use Rock Tomb. Rocks then shot out of the ground around the Dartrix. The owl let out a cry before collapsing to the ground.

    "Thanks for that, Lex," Arian said gratefully.

    "No prob, Arian," the dinosaur returned. "Hey, let's team up! We'd make a good fighting pair!"

    "That would be a sound strategy, in fact," Isaac opined. "Going forward, you two shall be our vanguard. Yuliya, meanwhile, would be good for our rearguard. Elvira and I will provide support from the middle with items and longer-ranged attacks. …The most optimal strategy, in my opinion, would be to make use of our strongest attackers at the front and rear to keep our enemies at bay."

    "I agree," Yuliya said.

    "So do I," Lex seconded, faithful to his partner's decisions.

    "Well, if you're all okay with it, then sure, I guess," Arian shrugged.

    The five made their new formation, with Arian and Lex at the front. The former was given the item bag by Elvira to pick up items he came across along the way. This, Arian did, while occasionally handing an item back to Lex to make sure he didn't hog all the rewards.

    He and the Rock-type made easy work of any ferals that came their way. Lex's brute strength made for a vital asset in combat, as did Isaac's Psybeams from the middle, whose long range ensured reliable backup from him. Arian was at least glad to see that the Espeon's coldness didn't extend to apathy. He would help him out like any comrade would, despite his attitude.

    They eventually found the stairs, guarded by a Dustox. A Rock Tomb and Psybeam combo from Team Mindfist easily felled the moth, and the group of five ascended the stone stairs.



    Forested Upland

    S2F



    "This floor's ferals consist of Dartrix, Dustox, Noctowl, Phantump, Lurantis, Linoone, Tropius, Tangela and Sudowoodo on the Selenian side of the Forested Upland," Isaac listed, not long into the second floor. "Not too different from your average forest-dwelling Pokémon. As we get deeper into the Dungeon, we can expect to see more Ground and Rock-type Pokémon, more typical of Alban habitats."

    "Did you memorise all this or what?" Yuliya wondered. "I'm fascinated by what you know. In our barracks, we have documents on Mystery Dungeons and the Pokémon within them. But you're like a walking encyclopaedia with that kind of information."

    "It's nothing. It's merely experience from being in this place before," the Espeon explained.

    "Yeah, we've been here a lot," Lex added. "And I've been here a lot as a kid. Mom and Dad would sometimes come here to hunt for food and I always wanted to see how far I could get in here. I always hoped that one day I would get to Alba. …But Mom and Dad never wanted me to do that. They thought I would get hurt by all the Grass-types."

    "I don't blame them," Elvira replied. "I once wandered into Verdant Woods with Flora and Tamara when I was five years old. Mom practically had a heart attack when she found I had gone missing. She always says that took years off her life."

    "...That's quite a story," noted Arian. "Is that when you decided you wanted to become a mercenary?"

    "Not really. I just wanted to be like Dad," Elvira answered. "We weren't really very good. So we had to call for help, and Dad happened to be in the area and ended up being the one to save us."

    "Oh…" the Riolu murmured, interested in this new anecdote from his partner.

    "An adventurous spirit, were you?" Yuliya queried. "...I was like that, too. I didn't like the traditions of the lady at all, like embroidery and baking. That was never my forte. I loved exploring the great outdoors a lot more. I did get in trouble a few times, but…eventually Father and Mother understood, and along with Svetlana, decided to gear me away from the life of a lady and more towards what I enjoyed. And so…I ended up in the knights and rose through the ranks to become a marshal."

    "Wow," Arian remarked.

    "Good thing your family was understanding," Elvira observed. "If you were with another family, they would no doubt try and suppress what you really wanted to do."

    "That's true. …Thank the Creator I was born to parents who understood me," the Furret replied. "I wouldn't want to be born to parents who have one set vision for me and nothing else. I would never want to hate my parents."

    Arian and Elvira listened intently to Yuliya's story. This did mean they missed the reaction of their companions in Team Mindfist. Particularly Isaac, who seemed to flinch at what the ex-marshal was saying. He looked to the ground solemnly.

    "...Ise? You okay?" Lex wondered.

    "...It's nothing." Isaac shook his head, trying to get rid of the bad feelings. "Ghosts of the past, nothing more. Fickle memories, just fickle..." Noticing a small gap had developed between them and the other three, he ran to close it. Thankfully, they didn't seem to notice, and the group fell back into formation pretty quickly.

    Soon, they happened upon a Dartrix. The bird swooped in and attacked Arian with Pluck. The Riolu, alas, didn't react quickly enough to dodge.

    "Ow!" he cried, feeling the pain of the feral's pecks at him.

    "Arian! I'll get him!" Lex assured, and stamped his foot to attack the Dartrix with Rock Tomb. The bird let off a shrill cry at the wound.

    "I'll help too!" Elvira called. She threw a blast seed at the grass owl, and that was enough to do it in. It fell to the ground in a heap of feathers.

    "...Thanks, guys," Arian thanked, glad for the backup of his comrades.

    "No problem." Elvira handed him an oran berry, and he ate it up.

    "A pity you don't have Ice Punch, Arian," noted Isaac. "Your kind are capable of learning it, after all."

    "Ice Punch…" Arian wondered. He'd seen that move in some of his training sessions with Galen, and admittedly rather liked the look of it. I can learn that too?

    "It would be beneficial for Arian," Elvira agreed. As she spoke, the five got back to finding the stairs. "But the TM for it's been hard to come by. Not to mention, it's quite an investment. TMs aren't exactly cheap."

    "...Fair enough," Isaac accepted. "But it would give you a better edge in combat. You would fare more effectively against a wider range of types than the moveset you have now."

    "...I guess. …Who knows? If we find a TM for it, I'll be sure to try it out," Arian promised.

    "Guess money's a problem for everyone who wants new moves," grumbled Lex. "There's a lot of cool moves I wanna learn! But we never have the money for them…"

    "Patience, Lex," his partner assured. "Enough saving and we'll get enough to afford them. We may even find a TM on the floor of a Mystery Dungeon at the cost of nothing."

    "I hope so!" The Cranidos smiled at the thought. "That'd be nice."

    "It would be. You're not alone in wanting better moves," Isaac murmured. "Dazzling Gleam and Shadow Ball…I would love to have those moves one day. Powerful attacks that would counter weaknesses of mine."

    "Oh, so you're not perfect, after all, eh?" Arian pointed out, with a hint of smugness. He paused to double team a Lurantis with Lex.

    "I never said I was," defended Isaac, after the Grass-type had been dealt with. "Ignoring what I'm weak to is a foolish endeavour. I'm not perfect, no matter how some people try to delude me into thinking. Like I said back in town, acknowledging your weaknesses is a good step to take. An even better step, though, is working to overcome them. That's why I want those attacks. They would give me a better edge in battle. Just like what I was saying to you."

    "...Right, I got it," Arian replied.

    "Let yourself know one thing from what I'm saying to you, Arian," Isaac mentioned. The Riolu turned to him, and was rather surprised to see a rather serious look on his face. "No one's perfect. Not me, not you, no one here. Nor our allies or our enemies. Nor a ruler or his people. No one is perfect in this world. None."

    "...Okay, I understand," Arian said slowly, not fully getting what he was feeling in that moment. He understood fully what the Espeon was saying. But…that look he had in that moment. That serious look, almost imploring him to understand that simple axiom.

    What was that all about?



    Forested Upland

    S6F



    "Say, Yuliya. I have a question for you," Isaac prompted, amid the Dungeon crawling.

    "And that would be…?" the Furret asked.

    The quintet had made good progress through the Dungeon. It hadn't been too arduous apart from two knockouts on their end: both Arian and Lex were knocked out by a threefold attack from a Noctowl, a Linoone, and a Phantump. Luckily, it was nothing two reviver seeds and retaliation from the other three couldn't resolve.

    They were on the sixth floor now. Isaac informed them that they would be at the top after the ninth floor, meaning they were getting close to the end.

    The Espeon, meanwhile, was curious about the presence of Yuliya, who had been helpful in their journey through the Dungeon. It was, however, only her. Thus, Isaac wondered about the presence of two others.

    "Why exactly isn't Marshal Branislav accompanying you?" he queried. "I would think one of Tsar Kliment's most loyal marshals would be all too eager to meet up with his son."

    "...Branislav said he was more useful in Selenia," the Furret replied.

    "Oh? And why's that?" Isaac pushed.

    "...He and Maciej claim to have hidden forces that they need to rally in the case that His Highness returns to Selenia," Yuliya elaborated. "They both claimed they would be better off staying in Selenia to collect supporters for Prince Leonid. As well as that…I wanted to go to Breifne to see my sister as well. Branislav dictated I could afford to do this. …Granted, he did say I would make a better impression on him than Team Elpis, given our shared bond as in-laws," she added.

    Typical Branislav. Arian felt partly offended by the bird knight's claim. He really doesn't have much faith in us, does he?

    "Branislav…" Lex muttered, a frown coming across his face. Isaac looked over at him knowingly.

    "...I see," murmured the psychic cat. "Then I have another question. Who exactly is Maciej, the Swoobat that accompanies Branislav?"

    "Maciej? …I don't know myself, to be honest," Yuliya admitted. "After what happened five years ago, I went into hiding, and lost contact with Branislav. It was only around a year and a half ago that I found him again. By then, he seemed to have Maciej by his side already. I wouldn't know. That's a question you'd have to ask him."

    "Hmm…" Isaac hummed thoughtfully. Arian, who happened to be near him, heard him mutter something under his breath. "Probably won't get a straight answer…"

    The Riolu didn't know how to feel about this. He found himself disliking Branislav, but Maciej was different. He seemed to be more supportive of them in the Guild. And as well as that, he did save him, Elvira and Team Sandstream in Rusalka from drowning in the Evor against Metody's Whirlpools.

    Even if we don't know his origins…that doesn't mean he's not an ally. I mean, I'm a nobody in this world…but that doesn't mean I'm an enemy. …Well, then again, it's not as if most people know where I truly come from…

    Not wanting to dwell on this point for much longer, Arian returned his focus to the Dungeon. Luckily, his stray thoughts hadn't distracted him from anything major. However, it was good timing to snap out of his thoughts, as he saw a Phantump approaching them.

    Time to whet my fangs and send this ghost back to the afterlife, he thought, readying a Bite. Beside him, Lex readied his own Bite.

    Biting ghosts…Arian couldn't help but inwardly chuckle at that. This world's logic is weird sometimes. But hey…I'm glad to be a part of it.





    Forested Upland

    Crest



    After three more floors of searching, fighting, picking up items, as well as throwing them, Teams Elpis and Mindfist, along with Yuliya, made it to the top of the Forested Upland. And once there…a sight awaited them.

    Below them, on the other side of the hills, lay a valley surrounded by hills. Before them was dry, with a number of bushes and trees scattered across it. And those trees were far from thick conifers or broad oaks, but smaller, thinner acacias. It was certainly a far cry from the emerald grasslands of Selenia.

    Arian was the first to speak.

    "...Is that Alba?"

    "...Indeed it is," Isaac confirmed. "The tanistry of Alba. And specifically what you're looking at right now is Mumhain, the land of the Mac Mánais clan. They control this southeast jurisdiction of Alba."

    "...I see," Arian murmured. I'm going to have to get used to these names…the names of a different country.

    "I haven't been to Alba in some time," Yuliya said. "No doubt it's changed since then. …Hopefully they'll listen to us. And hopefully, Lord Leonid is here somewhere…"

    "...Dad and Melchior went to Alba on many missions," Elvira mentioned. "Dad even got a Parabolic Torc for Mom for her hatchday once, which he got after trading with Alban merchants. She was very happy with that."

    "...Maybe we should get a souvenir for her," suggested Arian. "Something valuable from a Dungeon, maybe."

    "Maybe. She does like souvenirs."

    "...Well, I think that'll be it for us," Isaac announced. "As much as I hate to say it, this is where we turn back."

    "Ah." Elvira nodded in understanding.

    "Yeah. It's getting late, and I don't wanna worry Mom and Dad," Lex replied.

    "Besides, your journey is all the way to Breifne," Isaac went on. "We can't go all the way there."

    "...I guess this would be a good turning back point for you, then," Arian said. "Thanks a bunch for helping us, guys."

    "No problem!" Lex returned. "It's always good to help friends."

    "And beneficial to do so in this case," Isaac added. "...I wish you the best of luck in meeting Prince Leonid. Hopefully once you do, we'll be one step closer to getting Selenia back on the road to being a proper country again."

    "Thanks, Isaac," Arian replied. Even if he disagreed with the Espeon on some things, he did at least care for the cause.

    "Farewell. I hope to see you back in Selenia with our tsesarevich." Isaac turned to leave, before turning back. "...Ah. One more word of warning."

    "And that is…?"

    "...When in a foreign country, it might be easy to be swayed by the culture. But never forget that the one you're seeking out is Selenian, and our crown prince at that. Remember Selenian standards when speaking to him."

    "...Right. Understood," Arian nodded.

    "That won't be a problem," Yuliya added. "We have three Selenians among us. And we're not ones to forget our heritage easily. Right, you two?"

    "Yes." Elvira nodded.

    "Y-Yeah." Arian nodded as well, though perhaps a bit too vigorously. He knew the truth, and he wasn't being truthful right now. But it would be too difficult to explain the peculiarities of his situation to Yuliya.

    Isaac caught the expression on Arian's face, and a slight frown crossed his face. However, he dismissed it as he addressed them again.

    "Very well, then. I think now this is the real farewell. Arian, Elvira, Yuliya - I wish all three of you the best of luck. May Victini watch over you." And with that, Isaac left in the direction of Kitesh, followed by Lex.

    "Off they go…" murmured Arian.

    "You're lucky to have reliable allies, you two," Yuliya praised. "A knowledgeable Espeon and a hard-hitting Cranidos…"

    "Yeah…I guess we are," the Riolu replied. "We probably shouldn't take them for granted."

    "No, we shouldn't," Elvira said. "Dependable allies are always in short supply with rebel movements. They never usually have the discipline of actual armies, and therefore they have a tendency to fall apart at the seams."

    "Gamaliel's didn't, though," Arian pointed out.

    "That's because nearly all of Selenia was united under his banner," the Treecko explained. "He had a strong cause, and a great amount of charisma, too. He was one of the most successful rebels in Ardalion's history."

    "If only we could rally a similar cause ourselves…" Yuliya murmured. "Perhaps when Prince Leonid returns to Selenia, we might well do that."

    "...Maybe. Though I can't imagine the people of Selenia now hold as much resentment towards Mitrofan as they did to Tsar Rihard and the East back then," Elvira replied. Arian, hearing this, was reminded of what she said earlier in the day about comparing their efforts to Gamaliel's.

    "You have a point. …Even so, he must be overthrown," the Furret uttered with determination. "And so…onward we go, to find His Highness." She proceeded to head down the path ahead of them that led downwards towards the valley they were overlooking.

    Arian and Elvira, alike in the same goal, followed her down.





    Forested Upland

    A1F



    The three went into the Alban side of the Forested Upland. This was a notable change from its Selenian counterpart; the ground here was a lot drier, and the trees' foliage was much thinner. The trees were spaced a bit further apart than their Selenian counterparts.

    "Well…" Arian remarked, observing the change in treescape characteristics. "I've only just stepped into Alba and I can already tell the difference."

    "Anyone would be able to tell the difference," Elvira replied. "Selenia and Alba are starkly different countries, both in culture and in landscape." She looked away as a realisation came to her. "No wonder our relationship's been shaky over the years…"

    "...It's always been that way," Yuliya replied. "An alliance like Dresilia and Miletos have only existed in our wildest dreams. They are alike in culture and landscape, and that is why they are able to form as deep a bond as they have. No matter how many overtures we can make about 'unity' and 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend', we can never hope to have that. Besides…our ancestors have made too many mistakes and betrayed too much trust. No wonder animosity remains…"

    "...Yuliya?" Arian said, worried.

    "Oh, pardon me," apologised the Furret. "I didn't mean to get cynical. Now's not the time for that, to dampen our hopes before we've even spoken to any Albans."

    "It's fine, Yuliya," the Riolu assured. "Let's get to the bottom of these hills so we can meet them!" he added, trying to sound optimistic to counter the ex-marshal's pessimism.

    The three got to their routine of hunting for the stairs. Yuliya proposed she be the rearguard once again while Arian led the charge, and Elvira would be in the middle. Team Elpis agreed, and so the arrangement was made.

    In the Dungeon, it was as Isaac had said; the Alban side of the hills had a lot more Ground and Rock-types in them. Now Lileep, Minior, Rhyhorn and Phanpy joined the mix of feral Pokémon. For Yuliya, this was something of a setback; her moveset wasn;t the best equipped to deal with Rock-types. For Arian and Elvira, though…this was good news. It would make getting through the Dungeon a lot easier.

    "Hi-yah!" Arian yelled out, dealing a Force Palm to a Lileep in a wider open room. The Pokémon, wounded by the attack, stuck its roots into the ground, hoping to regenerate with Ingrain.

    "I don't think so!" Elvira, however, was having none of it, and cast a Giga Drain towards the feral. It, however, still didn't go down.

    "Allow me!" Yuliya then stepped in, dark energy coating her claws. She leapt forward and slashed at the Lileep with Shadow Claw. Luckily, that did it, and the Pokémon fell to its side in defeat.

    "Thanks, Yuliya," Arian said gratefully.

    "Always glad to help," the Furret replied. "I was worried that would take longer - Lileep are known to be tedious to fight. But anyway. Onward we head."

    After picking up a set of gravelerocks dropped by the Lileep, the three continued their hunt for the stairs. They found it at the end of a long corridor, and went down the stairs.



    Forested Upland

    A4F



    The fourth floor was fairly quiet for them, with surprisingly few enemies. It was at that point that Arian became curious about something else that had been on his mind.

    "So, Yuliya…" Arian queried. "I wanna know something."

    "Speak your mind, Arian," she permitted.

    "...It's about Svetlana," he wondered. "What's she like?"

    "Svetlana…my sister." Yuliya paused, thinking of an answer. "We got on very well. There was very little arguing between us in our family. It was just the two of us born to our father, Lord Gerasim of Lysagora, with me as the eldest and her as the youngest."

    "Two daughters? …Did other houses try and court the two of you?" Elvira wondered.

    "Indeed, they did. But Father made one thing quite plain to any potential suitors: that we would always have the final say to agreeing to any courtship," Yuliya answered. "And he held a lot of power as the lord of Lysagora, so people didn't say no to him. There was, however, one suitor he couldn't turn down."

    "And that was…?" Arian asked.

    "...Prince Kasimir. He met Svetlana a number of times, and the two grew fond of each other. Eventually, he proposed to her, she accepted it, and so it was arranged. My little sister would become a princess, and in time, she would become the Tsarina of Selenia. Our family was ecstatic. We could not be happier."

    "...But then…how did she become Leonid's wife?" the Riolu wondered. Once again, he knew the general answer. But it was the specifics he wanted to know.

    "...Because Kasimir died unexpectedly, six years ago." Yuliya's face fell, a sharp difference to the happy times she spoke of only seconds before. "Svetlana was heartbroken. She really loved Kasimir, and was in floods of tears when he passed away. As well as that, it left her without her husband. …And Father didn't want that. With me going the route of the knight, she would have to be the one to provide an heir for our house. Thus, it was arranged with His Majesty that she would be betrothed to Prince Leonid instead."

    "...That can't have been easy," Elvira remarked. "Was that not too soon after Prince Kasimir's death?"

    "...I suppose if I am to be honest…it was," Yuliya admitted. "But I was a loyal marshal to His Majesty. I couldn't very well object to this arrangement. So I held my tongue and supported my sister. At least she wasn't unhappy with him. Svetlana said she would be content with Leonid as her husband."

    "But the marriage officially never happened," Elvira pointed out. "Because of what happened with Mitrofan."

    "Indeed. And so they fled to Dresilia…" The Furret wiped her right eye. "I'm so glad to know that. My sister is alive…" She looked into the room they entered, and saw the stairs. She looked over at them as they got ready to descend.

    Hold on, Sister. I'm coming for you.



    Forested Upland

    A5F



    Arian, Elvira and Yuliya went up to the next floor, expecting another typical floor of fighting ferals and finding items. And for the most part, that was what they got.

    Not long after they started on the floor, they came to a room with a number of items strewn about it. But accompanying that were a fair share of ferals. Two Rhyhorn and a Linoone came their way, while a Tropius slept in the corner.

    "You handle the Linoone, Yuliya," Arian suggested. "Elvira and I can take these two lugs." He pointed to the pair of Rhyhorn.

    "That's fine by me," the Furret accepted, and bared her claws against the Linoone, who gazed at her with a fierce look typical of ferals.

    Arian started off by tossing a violent seed in his partner's direction, before charging at one of the Rhyhorn with a Force Palm at the ready. He struck it directly on the nose, which dazed the Rock-type in a manner that suggested it had been paralysed. Its partner roared at him and was about to charge into him with a Take Down.

    But at that moment, Elvira used Giga Drain on it. The amplified power of the move thanks to the violent seed was enough to take it down in the one hit, much to her surprise. The other Rhyhorn, meanwhile, tried to launch a Horn Attack at Arian, but the paralysis stopped it in its tracks. The Riolu took advantage of this and slammed another Force Palm at it. Elvira then moved in and used Giga Drain, just as a measure to ensure it stayed down.

    "...Wow, we did pretty good in that," Arian remarked. Looking over at Yuliya, he saw that she had wrapped up her side of the fight, having used Fury Swipes to slash at the raccoon.

    He looked over at the corner of the room, and the items there caught his eye.

    There were two of them. One was a max elixir - always good to have as it topped up their move usage. However, the other caught more intriguing, and he went over to get a better look at it.

    It looked to be a torc of some kind. It was made of a golden coloured metal - brass, by the looks of it. But it was engraved with intricate markings that didn't look normal.

    What's this? "Hold on a minute," Arian called out. "Guys, come look at this." Elvira and Yuliya both went over to see what the human was pointing to.

    "What is it?" Elvira peered at them. "A torc?"

    "Hmm…this looks handcrafted," Yuliya noted. "As if it belongs to someone with a bit of money on their hands."

    "I was thinking…it looks almost like the sort of item some clients would ask us to look for in Dungeons," Arian brought up.

    "That is true," Elvira agreed. "Maybe it's that? Is there a mission out there looking for these?"

    Arian picked up the torc, and looked at it. At each end, he noticed what looked to be an insignia. It was a diamond shape, with the letters T, Ó, M, c, and M inscribed within it. The latter three letters were all bunched next to each other.

    "What does this mean?" he wondered.

    "...If I had to guess, it's implying the name of the smith who made it," Yuliya presumed. "But I wouldn't know the name. They probably live nearby, in Alba."

    "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Elvira went to pick up the torc, and put it into the bag. "Let's keep going."

    They headed down the nearest path. Luckily, they didn't have to look far for the next set of stairs, which they climbed down.

    …However…it never occurred to them that they weren't the only ones on the floor.

    As it so happened…another team was on the same floor, looking for a certain item.

    And after a while, one of them was getting annoyed

    "Come on…where the hell is it?" a female Gabite growled. "That Chief's bitch better not have duped us. Otherwise we came here for nothing!"

    "Good thing Chief Mac Mánais can't hear you here, En," a male Hakamo-o remarked. "He'd beat you to a pulp if he heard you talking about his daughter like that."

    "Shut up, Yann," the land shark fired back. "Where the fuck's that torc? That request said it was on this gods-damned floor…It better be here!"





    Forested Upland

    Alban Foothills



    The rest of the Dungeon went smoothly for Team Elpis and Yuliya. It went well enough that all three were feeling optimistic as they went down the stairs and found themselves in a savanna-like setting.

    They would cross this land, get to Leonid and Svetlana, bring them back to Selenia and take down Mitrofan. Maybe even with the help of Alban muscle. They would need all the help they could get.

    However, the optimism vanished within two minutes of exiting the Mystery Dungeon.

    Right as they came to flatter ground next to an acacia tree, two Pokémon suddenly stepped out in front of them.

    They were a Gabite and a Hakamo-o. Both wore orange scarves and had challenging looks in their eyes.

    "Going somewhere, you lot?" the Gabite said. "You Sels don't get Alba at all, do you?"

    "In our country, if you wanna take a reward from a team…" The Hakamo-o brandished his fists. "Then you gotta fight us for it!"





    Notes

    And another cliffhanger! Boy, I sure have invoked them a few times. (And we'll definitely see a lot more of them in future.)

    Elvira's anecdote is a call-back to Chapter 11, which was mentioned in the flashback meeting with Mitrofan and Kallias.

    Forested Upland's floor labels (S1F and A1F) are in reference to the countries.

    The Parabolic Torc is an item I made up, to be exclusive to Heliolisk. It would boost the power of Parabolic Charge and allow it to recover more HP from the damage dealt to the opponent. (I will say at this point that we won't see it in action due to Zenobia being a non-combatant.)

    And now that we're in Alba, I can reveal (if it hasn't been figured out already from previous hints) that Alban naming conventions are based on Gaelic and Celtic names. We've seen it a few times before with names like Ardmacha and Breifne, and it's here too. Teamhair is the Irish name for Tara, an ancient Irish ceremonial site. Mumhain is the Irish name for the Irish province of Munster. Alba itself is the Gaelic name for Scotland.

    That's all for now. Thanks for reading, and see you next time!
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter 23 - Scalebreaker
  • Arukona

    A Scribe Penning His Brainworms
    Location
    Ardalion
    Pronouns
    He/him
    Partners
    1. aggron
    2. sceptile
    Chapter 23
    Scalebreaker

    Right as they came to flatter ground next to an acacia tree, two Pokémon suddenly stepped out in front of them.

    They were a Gabite and a Hakamo-o. Both wore orange scarves and had challenging looks in their eyes.


    "Going somewhere, you lot?" the Gabite said. "You Sels don't get Alba at all, do you?"

    "In our country, if you wanna take a reward from a team…" The Hakamo-o brandished his fists. "Then you gotta fight us for it!"

    Team%20Scalebreaker%20by%20Bograbbit.webp


    Art by Bograbbit.

    "Wait, wait! Hold on!" Arian cried, panicked. "What are you talking about?"

    "You stole our reward!" accused the Gabite, pointing a claw his way. "Thieving bastards! No one steals our prize!"

    "We didn't steal anything!" Elvira tried to argue. "We-"

    "Then explain yourself." The Hakamo-o cut her off. "Why was the torc of the Chief's daughter missing from the fourth floor when we went there?"

    "The torc of…?" Yuliya realised what they meant. "We picked up an item of that description in the Dungeon."

    "We did! Here it is." Elvira searched her bag and found the torc in question.

    "Apologies, we were unaware of this," Yuliya went on. "You can have it, so-"

    "Doesn't matter!" The Gabite's growl cut her off. "You tried to take our reward from us! There's a big reward riding on that one, and there's no way in hell we're giving it up to some grubby Sels!"

    "Sels?" Arian was confused.

    "Derogatory Alban slang for Selenians," Yuliya informed him, throwing a cross expression the land shark's way. "It's clear they're no friends of ours."

    "You're quite right, ma'am." The Hakamo-o spoke up. "You're clearly not aware of who you've crossed. Most Albans wouldn't dare to one-up Enfys and Yannick of Team Scalebreaker!"

    "Platinum Rank, certified by our rí himself!" Enfys was smirking. "Quivering yet, Sels?"

    Platinum Rank? Oh no…they're miles ahead of us, Arian thought. On the outside, he tried to not show any fear.

    "No." Yuliya wasn't intimidated. "We've come to Alba on an important mission for our country, to restore it back to its rightful glory. We're not backing down to anyone or anything!"

    "Tough words," the Hakamo-o observed. "But how well can you back them up? You'd better be able to fight if you're out there saying things like that!"

    "This is stupid!" Arian refuted. "Why do we have to fight? We're literally offering the torc to you!"

    "Tch. What, scared you can't win?" the Gabite taunted. "Coward!"

    "Hey! I'm not a coward!"

    "Then fight us! You're not backing out after you tried to take the torc from us!"

    "W-We didn't- "

    "Arian," Elvira interrupted. "There's no use arguing with them. They won't listen to words. This is Alba, a land of warriors. A land whose inhabitants speak with their fists instead."

    "But this is wrong! They're- "

    "I'm aware that this whole thing is foolish." Yuliya spoke next. "But Elvira's right. And if we're to save Selenia, then I'll take going along with the Alban way. That means engaging in combat with them." She turned to the two dragons. "How about this? If we win, you'll allow us to travel deeper into Alba. If we lose, we'll turn around and go back home to Selenia."

    "Those sound like good terms," the Hakamo-o agreed.

    "Finally! One of them gets it!" the Gabite said.

    "We're really doing this?" Reluctance laced Arian's voice. He still didn't understand the logic behind why they had to fight.

    "Indeed we are." Elvira was reluctant, too, although she sounded far more resigned to what was about to go down. "I knew Dad said Albans loved fighting, but this is something else…"

    "Before we begin." The Hakamo-o's voice drew their attention. "Names?"

    "Arian." "Elvira." "Yuliya." Each Selenian pronounced their name loud and clear.

    "Yannick," said the Hakamo-o.

    "Enfys," said the Gabite.

    "Together, we are Team Scalebreaker." Yannick slammed his fists together, making the scales on his forearms clang. "Enough talk. Let's fight!"

    Immediately, Enfys dashed forward, intent to draw first blood. She met the trio head on, and slashed at them with Dragon Claw. Yuliya took the hit, wincing as the sharp claws cut her, before retaliating with a series of Fury Swipes.

    However, the Gabite didn't seem that fazed by it. She only looked more raring to fight, if the look in her eyes was anything to go by.

    "Hang on, Yuliya!" Elvira called out, before leeching the land shark with Giga Drain. The latter grunted in slight pain as the gecko drained energy from her.

    Arian also jumped in, slamming a Force Palm against the Gabite.

    "Grragh!" she growled. "Yann!"

    "Oh, don't worry. I haven't forgotten you, En," the Hakamo-o assured. "Just preparing myself, that's all."

    Arian looked over at him, surprised at what he saw. Yannick was suddenly coated in a red aura, and his muscles appeared to have grown in size.

    "Bulk Up," Elvira whispered to him. "Be careful, Arian."

    "Right." Arian looked up at the Hakamo-o. He was tall, at least twice his size, and the aura made him more imposing. Doesn't matter, he told himself. I've fought tougher opponents before!

    He ran forward, a Force Palm at the ready, but Yannick seemed to see him coming.

    "Hi-yah!" Arian slammed the Force Palm into him. However, to his shock, the Hakamo-o blocked the attack by crossing his arms, and pushing against him. Adding to his surprise was the strength behind said push. The Riolu found himself thrown backwards, although he managed to right himself as he landed.

    "Feisty, eh?" Yannick commented, focusing on Arian. "Come!" He readied a stance. "Let's duel, Arian!"

    He then leapt forward, fists brandished. Arian dashed forward as well, ready to meet him.

    And once they did…both dragon and canine punched rapidly at each other. However, it was clear who was the stronger of the two. Yannick slammed a punch into Arian's gut, throwing him back.

    "Oof!" He was staggered, but kept his balance. He felt the pain from that punch, but tried to hide it as he went in again. He charged back towards the Hakamo-o, evaded a punch thrown his way, and slugged his opponent in the stomach.

    …However, it seemed to bounce off him. It didn't faze Yannick at all.

    "Cute," the dragon muttered, and then slashed at the Riolu, Arian feeling Yannick's claws slicing through his flesh.

    "Aaaaaaaargh!" Arian yelled out. It was painful - as if the Bulk Up had sharpened Yannick's claws to boot. It drew blood as well, and he saw blotches of red on the dry ground below.

    "Arian!" Elvira cried. Looking back at Yannick, she saw him coming for her. Quickly, she reached into her bag and threw a blast seed at him.

    To her relief, Yannick flinched at that. But even still…it didn't look to have hurt him as much as she'd hoped. Worse still was the grin that crossed his face.

    "...You wanna go that route, eh? Well, two can play at that game!"

    It took Elvira a moment to realise what he meant. And by the time she did, a blast seed had been returned her way.

    "Aaaagh!" It burned, but Elvira was shocked more than anything. They're using items too? And they're already stronger than us…

    She barely had time to react before Enfys slashed at her with Dragon Claw. She attempted to dodge, but was sideswiped by the land shark's claws.

    "Argh!" Elvira felt air bite at the wound. Reeling, she barely had time to react to Enfys' pursuit of her with more Dragon Claws. The Gabite swung…but Yuliya leapt at her and tossed her off-balance.

    Diligently, the Furret worked her way back to the front. She held her arms protectively before Arian and Elvira, giving the duo precious extra seconds to revitalise themselves.

    With that, they leapt back into the fray. Yannick once again made a beeline for Arian, who readied himself for the clash.

    The dragon swung a punch at the canine, expecting a clash of fists like before, but Arian had learned his lesson from before, and feinted to the side. He then dashed forward and slammed a Force Palm into Yannick's scales.

    Even without the Bulk Up, though, his constitution was still in good form. As such, he quickly recovered and sideswiped Arian with a backhand, knocking the Riolu away. He was about to pursue him and continue the onslaught, but the throw and explosion of another blast seed, followed by burning pain, forced him to draw his attention to Elvira. The Treecko ran towards him and was about to Slam into him…

    But blue dragonfire burned her side, and she let out a cry of pain. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the fire had come courtesy of Enfys. The land shark was about to pursue Elvira, but a yell from her other opponent drew her away.

    "I'm your opponent!" Yuliya shouted, before lunging at the Gabite, claws bared. "Don't you look away from me!"

    "Gh!" Enfys hissed, feeling the pain of the marshal's attack. "Fine then! Get her, Yann!" she called to her partner, pointing to Elvira.

    The Treecko barely had time to react before she sensed the Hakamo-o about to strike. Just in time, she dodged out of the way of an incoming punch, her eyes aglow.

    "Detect," muttered the scaly dragon in annoyance. "Forget about her, then." He turned his attention back to Arian, who tried to take advantage of his distraction with Elvira. Alas, this was fruitless, as his punch met with Yannick's own fist. Arian tried again, only to be blocked again.

    Then he was kicked squarely in the gut by the dragon, taking the wind out of him and knocking him to the ground.

    Arian quickly tried to get back on his feet. But once he did, Yannick was on him again, and he was forced to defend against a right hook from the dragon.

    "You're not a Hitmonchan, you know." Yannick sounded almost disappointed. "You can do better than that, surely?"

    "I'm not weak!" Arian was baring his teeth by now, annoyed that he wasn't making any progress. The Hakamo-o still had plenty more to give, while he and Elvira were on the back foot. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Enfys and Yuliya duelling on their own terms.

    Stop getting distracted. Yuliya can handle herself. This dragon's our responsibility.

    He looked over to see his partner pulling something out of their bag. An idea formed in his mind. If I just keep him distracted long enough…

    He let out a cry as he ran in again. Yannick, seeing him, only sighed.

    "This is getting boring," he said. "Don't tell me you've used up all of your tricks already?"

    "I haven't!" Arian charged a Force Palm. But he didn't leap in this time; he wanted the Hakamo-o to take the bait. And as the dragon began to move towards him, he thought he had him. He saw Elvira throw the blast seed…

    …Only for Yannick to jump to the side as the blast seed exploded on the ground, missing him. A thin smoke emanated from the seed, and Arian found himself blinking as some got into his eyes.

    A mistake on his part, and exploited well by his opponent. Two slashes of claws met the Riolu, and before he could even cry out in pain, Yannick slugged him with an uppercut.

    "Aaaaagh!" The combo knocked Arian onto his back. He was reeling in pain from the attack, and he felt his vision begin to blur. He could taste blood in his mouth, and he felt the air biting at his wounds.

    "Arian!" Elvira cried. A look of fear crossed her face as Yannick turned to her.

    "Damn. That wasn't as interesting as I'd hoped," he murmured disappointedly. "This is too easy."

    He leapt towards her, claws bared and ready to give her another slashing like Arian.

    "Eek!" Terrified, Elvira dodged to the side before he landed. She tried to invoke Detect again, but the power wouldn't come to her so soon after she'd just used it. Yannick caught up to her, and slammed a right hook into her chest.

    "Yaaaagh!" The Treecko was flung backwards, and hit the trunk of one of the acacias. The hard landing added to the pain of the punch, and her back hurt just as much as her front. Her vision swam, and she found herself struggling to get up. Gazing over at her partner, she could see Arian gripping his chest, his expression a pained one.

    Through her blurry vision, she could see the bag had slipped from her grasp. It's within reach, the Treecko realised. If I could just get to it…!

    Unfortunately, her hopes were dashed on that front. Yannick saw her trying to get the bag, and leapt into action, going up and snatching the bag before she could reach it.

    "No…!" the gecko gasped.

    "Sorry, but I can't let you do that." The dragon threw the bag far away from either member of Team Elpis. "You can't rely on items to get you by. You clearly still have much to learn when it comes to fighting."

    "We're…not giving up," Arian breathed. The air stung his wounds, and he ached all over, but he stood his ground. "We can't give up…! Selenia needs us!"

    "Whatever you're looking for here, you're not going to get it. Not if you don't have the strength." Yannick shook his head. That disappointed look in his eyes remained. Arian couldn't help but flinch at this - another reminder of his perceived self-inadequacy.

    "I can't…I can't give up," he said out loud. "Not here…" He looked down at his paws, and the skirmish at Rusalka came back to him. That blue fire that came when he needed it most, to save his friends…Why won't it appear now?

    But he had no time to dwell on this before he saw Yannick approaching him. The scaly dragon wasn't greatly harmed, and the attacks of Team Elpis didn't appear to have grinded him down. That frustrated Arian more than anything else, and he found himself blinking back tears.

    "Once more, Arian!" Yannick's declaration snapped him back to attention. And before the Riolu could react, the dragon had his fists ready, and lunged at him. In his weakened state, Arian could hardly hope to block against the dragon's attacks, and though he tried, Yannick's hefty punches, stronger than his, threw him into the dirt and knocked him out.

    "S-Stop…" Elvira found herself begging. "D-Don't hurt him anymore!" Yannick turned to her.

    "I won't. There's no thrill in beating someone who can't fight. But that goes for you too." He pointed at her. "You're not much better off than he is. You've lost. Accept it."

    His words stung, and Elvira couldn't help but see the truth in them. With no bag and Arian out for the count, there was no hope of them winning against even just Yannick.

    However, she looked over at another aspect of the fight that she hadn't focused on; the current duel between Yuliya and Enfys, which had raged in the background of their fight with Yannick. This gave her a thought, and she voiced it in her reply to the scaly dragon.

    "...I'll submit. But you haven't won. Not until you defeat Yuliya."

    "...Fair enough," Yannick accepted. "But she'll be at quite a disadvantage with you two out of the picture. It's time I help En out." He turned away from the Treecko and towards the other fight going on.

    The brawl between the Furret and Gabite had been evenly matched, all things considered. Enfys was the more powerful of the two, and made it clear through the force of her attacks. However, Yuliya was much more swift in her form, and used that to her advantage to dodge the land shark's attacks and land a number of smaller hits. Enfys was quite hotheaded, stopping at nothing to try and get a hit on Yuliya. But with how the former marshal moved, she became irritated very quickly.

    "Mangy Sel! Stay put!" she barked, leaping at her. But once again, Yuliya dodged out of the way of the Dragon Claw, and slashed back at her. "Grrr! Fuck you!" She tried to retaliate, but only managed to graze the Selenian.

    Yuliya could keep this up. She saw her opponent dashing towards her again, and she watched her movements, getting ready for the next round of hit-and-run tactics.

    But if she'd looked to her right, she would have seen a disc-like object being thrown at her. It hit her on her cheek, and caught her off guard.

    "Ow! What?"

    That distraction was the window Enfys needed, and she took advantage of it. She slashed at Yuliya's midsection twice, creating two bloody gashes on the Furret.

    "Agh!" Yuliya realised her mistake, and leapt backwards before the Gabite could hit her again. Her gaze drifted to the ground, and she saw what had been thrown at her. Is that one of Yannick's scales?

    "About time you showed up," Enfys said to Yannick as he approached.

    "Sorry about that. Those two proved to be a handful," the Hakamo-o apologised. "But they were too easy. Here's hoping you'll be different, Yuliya." He set his sights on the Furret.

    "Hah! It'll be a cinch with the two of us!" Enfys scoffed. "You've no chance, missy!"

    Two against one… Yuliya took a breath. The odds weren't insurmountable; she'd faced far greater challenges as marshal. However, the defeat of Team Elpis at Yannick's hand was a cause for concern, and she was admittedly worried.

    You can do this, Yuliya, she told herself. You have to win. For your prince…and for her.





    "Ha! Too easy!"

    "Well, what'd you expect? She's a noblewoman! They're made of soft stuff!"

    "Seriously, why the hell is Lord Gerasim putting his daughter through this? It'd be way easier for him and her to just arrange a marriage!"

    "You're plainly not cut out for this, Lady Yuliya. It's past time you reconsidered your path as a knight."

    These were words Yuliya had heard after a particularly harsh training session. In it, she and her comrades had to face two opponents by themselves individually, with no help from any allies. It was a challenge designed for situations where trainees found themselves outnumbered, and how to cope in such a scenario.

    Unfortunately, the Furret hadn't coped well with the challenge. This had led to mockery from some of her fellow trainees, and furthered the suspicion of the combat instructors that she was not up to the challenge of being a knight.

    This was nothing new - she'd heard it before. But in the face of her failures today, she couldn't help but feel more discouraged than ever.

    As she walked out of the barracks, she resigned to taking the combat instructor's words into consideration.


    Is this truly the right path for me? Should I be doing this?

    She was aware that training to become a knight of Selenia would be far from easy, especially for someone of her upbringing, and she'd struggled through the gruelling training that all of the trainees had to endure. She would say she managed to deal with it better than some other recruits.

    Even so, it had been a tough time, and the discouraging remarks from her peers and overheads were beginning to get to her.


    "Oh! Sister! There you are!"

    "Hm?" Yuliya knew that voice. She looked up from the ground to see a Mienfoo with something wrapped in cloth. They were all smiles, happy to see her, and the Furret couldn't help but smile back in return.

    "Svetlana. It's good to see you," she greeted. She looked at what she was carrying. "Is that for me?"

    "It is!" Svetlana peppily replied. "I was in the area, and thought you might've needed a little pick-me-up. Here." She held it out. "It's some aspear bread from a bakery in town. I've had some, and it's really nice!"

    "...Thank you. I could do with some food." Yuliya took the package from her.

    "Is everything alright, Sister?"

    The Furret looked back, and saw that familiar look of worry on her face. Despite her Fighting-type heritage, it was almost psychic of the Mienfoo to understand that something was up with her sister.

    Normally, the elder sister would claim everything was fine and keep her troubles to herself. But what she needed more than anything right now was advice from another party.


    "Can I talk to you in private, Lana?" Yuliya requested, using the nickname she sometimes called her sister.

    "Of course, Yuyu," the Mienfoo returned with her own affectionate epithet. "Shall we talk in the park nearby?"

    Luckily, the park Svetlana suggested had few people in it, allowing the two sisters to sit down at a park bench and discuss the matter in question without fear of being overheard.


    "What is it that eats at you, Sister?" Svetlana asked, once they were both seated.

    Yuliya considered her question as she ate a slice of bread. Once she finished it, she turned to her sister.


    "Be honest with me, Lana," she asked. "Should I be doing this? Should I really be trying to become a knight?"

    "Oh no…Are you having doubts, Sister?" The Mienfoo looked over worriedly at her older sibling.

    "I guess you could say that." Yuliya let out a long sigh. "I had a rough day today, and it's making me rethink all of this."

    "How bad was it?"

    "I couldn't rise to the challenge today. And that led to the instructors questioning if I had what it took. Honestly…I'm beginning to wonder that myself."

    "Are they just saying that?" Svetlana wondered, a slight pout on her face. "If they're too rough on you, we could always get Father involved."

    "No," Yuliya rejected. "That would not solve anything. The instructors are merely doing their job. They have to know who's fit enough to lay their life down for our realm. …Which makes me wonder if I'm up to the task."

    "It's just one failure, Sister. Just a bad day, that's all. We all have those." Svetlana paused to daintily eat a slice of aspear bread.

    "Their opinions about me haven't changed. They thought I was a weak noblewoman when I started out. For the most part, that opinion still stands. Even when I've succeeded, they still look upon me with scorn, as if I don't belong in their ranks. I only suspect the reason they haven't reprimanded me more strongly is out of fear of what Father would say to them.

    "The challenges and training will only get tougher from here. And if I fail now…" Yuliya looked up at the evening sky. "Then how will I succeed later on?"

    "Well…" Svetlana considered her sister's words. "...Maybe I don't know the nuances of combat. But you're much stronger than I ever could be! And you shouldn't give up just because of what some stuffy combat instructors said!"

    "Y-You really think so?"

    "Don't give up, Yuyu. I want to see you succeed, and so does Father. Our greatest heroes never gave up, even when all odds were against them. Think about our hero Ruslan resisting the might of the Tyrant King, or Team Hope standing up for our tsardom against the cruelty of the East. You can overcome this, Sister!" the Mienfoo encouraged. "I know you can!"

    "Lana…" Yuliya was stunned by the encouragement her sister was showing her. Her sister's peppy nature was always genuine, and the girl wore her heart on her sleeve. The Furret liked the endless positivity her sister radiated, and her encouragement couldn't have come at a better time.

    "...I won't give up, Sister. I promise you that much."





    Thank you for your guidance when I needed it most, Svetlana, Yuliya thought. If I'd given up then, I never would've become marshal to His Majesty and served my tsardom faithfully. And now, in your time of need…it's high time I return the favour.

    She looked across at her dragon opponents. Time to show these Albans just who they're dealing with.

    "Yann! Back me up!" Enfys called to her partner, before dashing forward, claws and fangs bared. Flames danced at her maw, and she lunged, intent on clamping down on the Furret's flesh.

    But she bit only air instead. A second later, a force hit her right on the head as a flash of cream and brown entered her vision.

    "Gh!" She swiped at it, but Yuliya dodged out of the way. "Dammit! Stupid furball!"

    "Take this!" Yannick threw a stun seed at her. It seemed to work, freezing the Furret in place. He charged forward to seize the opportunity and threw forth a heavy punch.

    But to his shock…wood splintered and cracked as the decoy Yuliya fell to smithereens.

    "Substitute? Where-"

    Yannick's question was cut off by a barrage of Fury Swipes cutting into his back.

    "Gaagh!" he cried out, turning around to see Yuliya retreat from the sneak attack. He went to chase her down.

    "Grrr! Got you now!"

    "What?"That was Enfys' yell. Yannick looked over, and saw Enfys chasing Yuliya. He was stunned by the sight. "But how? She was right-"

    Then Enfys slashed at Yuliya…only for her to hit nothing.

    "Wh-Wha-"

    The Furret retaliated with a piercing Shadow Claw along the Gabite's side, cutting through her scales.

    "Aaargh!" Enfys hissed. She saw another image of the Furret. Enraged, she breathed dragonfire at the image…only for that to dissipate into nothing. "Oh, for fuck's sake! Yann!"

    "It's Double Team!" Yannick cried out in realisation. Looking around them, multiple Furret clones stood around them, all identical to one another.

    "Fuck this. I'm tearing all of 'em apart!" Enfys growled. She blasted a gout of dragonfire at one of them, and snarling as the clone dissipated to nothing. Yannick wasn't any luckier, deftly throwing a punch at a clone and that too vanished.

    "That Sel bitch!" Enfys, enraged, leapt towards another clone.

    However…this Furret dodged the attack.

    "You! You're the real-"

    The Gabite was rewarded with a full-blown attack from the real Yuliya. Claws coated in dark energy slashed relentlessly at the dragon with no let-up.

    She only retreated back once Yannick closed in, dodging a left hook from the Hakamo-o.

    Enfys fired another gout of Dragon Breath at what she thought was Yuliya. But once again, that turned out to be nothing. And, of course, Yuliya slashed at her with Shadow Claw from where she wasn't looking.

    "Agh! Damn you! Urgh…" The Gabite fell to her knees. "I'm…not losing here!" Her breathing suggested otherwise.

    "En!" Yannick looked over at his partner with worry. "Stay back. I'll handle this."

    "No!" Enfys hissed. "I can't lose to some nobody Sel! I'm…not a weakling!"

    "I'll claw this back, don't worry." The Hakamo-o saw the Furret clones, and as they moved collectively, he readied for a counterattack.

    Yuliya knew what to do. Instead of a head-on attack, what he most likely wanted…she went for his feet, dashing forward and knocking him onto his back.

    "Agh!" he cried. That was the opening Yuliya needed, and she went all out with her attack. Just like with Enfys, she relentlessly slashed at him with a mix of Shadow Claw and Fury Swipes, never letting up.

    Only when Yannick moved to block her swipes and deliver a retaliatory punch was she forced to relent. They stared each other down, the dragon wincing at his wounds.

    "You're good." He still remained strong despite his condition. "You can't be anyone ordinary, can you?"

    "I am not," Yuliya proclaimed. "I am Yuliya Gerasimovna Lysagora, former marshal of Selenia. I have come to Alba to find our tsesarevich Prince Leonid, and restore him to his rightful place. And I will not stop until I have achieved that very goal. Even if it means bearing all your country has to offer against me."

    "Everything we have to offer?" Yannick found himself taken aback. "That takes some guts. You sure you can live up to that?"

    "In the name of my country and His Majesty, I swear it." The fire in her eyes told it all.

    "...Well, colour me impressed," the Hakamo-o said. "Pretty strong and determined…You'd put some of our lot to shame. And though they're still rookies-" He cast an eye at Team Elpis. "They have potential. …Guess you all don't need to prove anything anymore."

    He bowed his head. "I concede."

    "What?" Yuliya wasn't expecting that.

    "What?!" Enfys was aghast. "Yann! You're conceding to her?!"

    "Yes."

    "But you can still claw back a victory! You have items, for fuck's sake! Use them!"

    "I'd rather not. I only used them during this because Arian and Elvira saw fit to use them as well. But I'd far rather rely on my own strength. That, it seems, was not enough to best Yuliya here." He bowed his head to her. "I see I still have more to learn in the art of combat."

    "Fucking…" Enfys still couldn't believe it. "You're not seriously bowing to a bunch of cowardly Sels, Yann?"

    "They're anything but cowardly, En. Did you not hear Yuliya talking a minute ago?"

    "It's hot air, and you know it!" The Gabite was still no closer to believing him.

    "I don't think so. I'm certain she's telling the truth. That said…I would like to hear the full story about it all." Yannick turned back to Yuliya. "We've only heard the odd story out of Selenia in the past five years. En and I don't tend to interact with the southern regions that much. Today was a bit of an exception."

    "I would be all too glad to tell you," Yuliya said. "But first, we must recuperate." She gestured to Elvira and Arian, the two of them having reclaimed their bag and taken out oran berries and reviver seeds while the conversation had been going on.

    "Of course," Yannick accepted. "We'll set up a campfire. You can tell us all about it while we make some food." As if on cue, his stomach growled hungrily. "Yep, nothing like a scrap and a good meal afterwards! Right, En?"

    "Tch." The Gabite was in no mood to agree.





    Soon, a campfire had been set up, illuminating their darkened surroundings. The Selenian group found its heat to be a blessing in the wake of rapidly cooling temperatures. Yannick took out some berries and began roasting them on two spits. Enfys had helped set up the fire, but did no more. She merely sulked and glared at the three Selenians as they sat down.

    During the course of this, Yuliya, along with Team Elpis, explained the general gist of what had been happening for them in Selenia over the past few weeks. Yannick listened intently, taking in every word.

    "Melchior? As in, Mud Bomber Melchior?" He was quite surprised to hear that. "The famous merc from Team Marshwood? That one? He's your Guildmaster now?"

    "Yes," Yuliya answered. "The very same."

    "...Still kicking, then," Enfys remarked grumpily. "But just him? What about Fernblade Kallias? Did Mitrofan kill him or what?"

    "He didn't." Elvira looked down sadly. "...But he's not around anymore. It's just Melchior."

    "You related to Fernblade Kallias?" the Gabite pressed. "You are a Treecko. You his kid or something?"

    "...Yes. I'm his daughter."

    "Wow. Never knew he had one," Yannick said, as he turned the spits.

    "He wanted to keep Mom and I out of the limelight, because he didn't want us to be absorbed into all that fame that he dealt with regularly," the Treecko went on. "People might develop expectations of me, and that's the last thing I want." She let out a long sigh. "I'm not my dad. I still have much more to learn."

    "Mmm," Arian murmured in agreement. Team Elpis had been sullen since they regrouped with Yuliya, clearly down after their loss.

    "Well, you're much better than the children of some Alban chiefs," the Hakamo-o said. "They think they're great warriors because their mum or dad was."

    "Heh, yeah. And then they get their asses handed to them at tournament time." Enfys snickered, perking up slightly. "Brats don't know who they're messing with. Nothing more satisfying than putting pricks like them in their place."

    "Got that right," her partner agreed, chuckling to himself. He cast his eyes down at the berries on the spits. "Oh! I think we're done!" He hurriedly took them off the fire, examining the nicely roasted berries. "They're done, alright." He handed one stick off to the Selenians, and kept one for Enfys and him.

    "Half of it, Yann," Enfys immediately demanded. "I am not going hungry again."

    "I know, I know," the Hakamo-o said, before taking three berries off the spit and handing the spit to her. He licked his lips hungrily, before eagerly devouring his share and gulping it down, all within seven seconds.

    Team Elpis and Yuliya watched the dragon, in a mixture of amazement and mild horror.

    "That's Yann for you." Enfys picked up on this. "This is a guy who loves his seconds. It's actually the easiest way to become friends with him. Just hand him a basketful of berries, and he'll love you in seconds."

    "I love food. What can I say?" Yannick shrugged.

    "Got that right. Cairbre hates you for all those times you've raided the Guild's pantry. The girls back in Breifne know it too. They always show up with something to try and win you over." A scathing edge had entered the Gabite's voice.

    "They're just being kind, En…"

    "That Sabrina girl seemed pretty fishy. What's the deal with her? Hmmm?"

    "...Let's not get into this, En. Not in front of others." Yannick turned back to Team Elpis and Yuliya. "Apologies. We'll help you get to Breifne, don't worry. Beyond looking for your prince, though…that's another story."

    "What do you mean?" Yuliya asked, concerned by what he was implying.

    "Well…" The Hakamo-o was about to go on, but a yawn escaped him. "...On second thought, I'll tell you tomorrow. It's getting late, and we'll need to be up really early."

    "You heard him." Strangely, Enfys seemed to be in agreement with him. "Go to sleep. We'll talk more in the morning." As she said this, she quenched the flames with a Sand Attack. "Good. Now Chief Mac Mánais won't give us an earful for starting a forest fire. Had enough of those down here, they keep saying."

    "Mmm…" A concerned look came over Yannick's face, but he said no more on the subject as he lay down in preparation for sleep.

    The fire's extinguishing was a great disappointment for Arian, who began to shiver in the wake of its absence. Even Elvira, who was nervous around fire, lamented its loss.

    "Desert nights are chilling," she said. "Dad told me they were colder than any winter. …He was definitely right." She shivered again.

    "This would be the way the day ends," Arian moaned unhappily. "Being trounced in battle, and going to bed cold as ice..."

    "But we got through, at least," Elvira reminded him.

    "Yeah, but…" The Riolu drifted off, not placated by his partner's words.

    "Come closer, you two," Yuliya instructed, curling up into a crescent shape. "If we huddle together, we can preserve body heat."

    "Alright…" Looking over, Arian saw Team Scalebreaker doing that very thing. Thus, he and Elvira followed suit, curling up in the ex-marshal's fur and getting close to one another. He feared a negative reaction from the closeness, but she huddled closer to stave off the coldness.

    Yuliya did the same, being quite cold herself.

    It took a while for Arian to actually fall asleep, though. His mind was awash with thoughts, most of them to do with the shame of his and Elvira's trouncing at the hands of Team Scalebreaker. It was only thanks to Yuliya that they could even keep going.

    That was becoming a common trend, he realised. If not for Maciej, they would've been captured or killed by Metody in Rusalka. If not for Team Anima, they would probably have been killed by Mitrofan in the Irian Catacombs. And if not for Team Sandstream, they never would've had a chance at ousting Hinnerk in Ozerograd.

    We've always needed the help of others. But on our own…we're still rookies, when all is said and done.

    He found himself looking up at the cloudless sky. A half moon looked down at him.

    One thought stuck in his mind.

    Is it just blind luck? Is that what's gotten us this far?





    Meanwhile…

    Not far from where the group of five slept, a cloaked figure stood atop a knoll, looking out over the silent savannah.

    Their cloak was dark blue, with constellations depicted on it. While it mostly hid their features, a few details stuck out. They were quadrupedal, firstly. Second of all, strands of white fur were visible. And finally, a scythe-like horn protruded from the figure's head.

    They looked out at the darkened plain. They seemed to use their horn as a compass, trying to pinpoint something in particular.

    Soon, after some trial and error, they appeared to find what they were looking for.

    The figure's eyes glowed a bright golden.

    "So he arrives…"





    Notes

    So…it's been a while, hasn't it? Apologies for that. But hopefully this upload shows I'm not dead, the fic's still very much alive, and this'll kickstart the creative train back up again.

    Especially with the new arc we're going into. There's an array of new characters, locations and concepts that I'm eager to show off.

    Also, huge thanks to Owry for beta reading this chapter! Their suggestions were a great help. (While you're at it, check out their fic PMD: All I Want - it's a pretty damn good fic, if I do say so myself.)

    Thanks for reading! And see you all next time!
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter 24 - Dry Land
  • Arukona

    A Scribe Penning His Brainworms
    Location
    Ardalion
    Pronouns
    He/him
    Partners
    1. aggron
    2. sceptile
    Chapter 24
    Dry Land

    "Hey! Get up!"

    Arian was rudely awoken by a grumpy voice and a rough shake.

    "Wh-Wha—" he mumbled as he opened his eyes sleepily. Through bleary vision, he saw an irate Gabite looking at him.

    "Finally, he's awake," Enfys scoffed. "Lazy mutt."

    "Urrrgh…" Arian groaned sleepily. His thoughts had kept him awake for most of the night, and he'd fallen to sleep long after everyone else had, but he noticed that as he adjusted to his surroundings, it was still dark out.

    "...It's not morning," he said, tired.

    "Of course it isn't. You wanna get burned by the sun? Be my guest," Enfys spat.

    "Lay off him, En," Yannick's voice cut in. "It won't do any good, harassing him like that."

    "I don't respect weaklings," the Gabite fired back.

    "Look, En." Yannick's voice became stern. "If you keep this up, then this journey back to Teamhair's only going to be awkward."

    "And who's fault's that? I still think it's best to kick them back over the border where weaklings like them belong."

    "Even though a Selenian beat you?"

    "...Shut up." Enfys gave up the argument, and looked over at where Elvira and Yuliya were also in the process of waking up. "Right, you three. What's your plan?"

    Yuliya, being the most awake of the three Selenians, chose to answer. "We are heading to Breifne, your nation's capital, where His Highness Prince Leonid is said to be residing at the moment. That information was said to be corroborated by Archdruid Cathbad, the leader of the Church in Alba."

    "Cathbad? Them?" Enfys didn't sound impressed. "So what? Probably more airy fairy shit about 'Fate' and 'destiny' and whatever crap comes out of their mouth."

    "You're lucky you're not in Breifne right now," Yannick criticised. "That would earn you an earful, given how well respected they are and how highly our Chief values their insight."

    "Whatever. I'll take their words with a grain of salt. And anyway, you're all wasting time." The Gabite addressed everyone, her partner included. "We need to get back to Teamhair before the sun rises. Especially you Sels. If the heat of the day's too hot for us, then gods forbid you lot are going to melt."

    "We understand," Elvira said. "We'll get moving."

    The five began their trek. A vast savannah lay before them, with the moon still shining brightly overhead. It was closer to the horizon, though, meaning that dawn would come soon.

    In the meantime, the five had to contend with the cold of the night. The Selenians, and Team Elpis in particular, found it especially frigid.

    "My God." Arian shivered. "It's like the dead of winter."

    "You can say that again," Elvira seconded. "I don't like the winter at all, and this cold reminds me of it." She shivered again. "Brrr…"

    "Hmph." Enfys wasn't impressed by their actions. "Are these really the people we're inviting into our country?"

    "I wouldn't count them out, En," Yannick said, from where he was leading with a lantern lit by his partner's dragonfire. "They'd be better than some of our folks."

    "Yeah, the weaker ones, alright."

    "You never know where talent's going to come from, En. That's the beauty of our system. Anyone can have a shot at the powerful positions, provided they're good enough."

    "I'm intrigued by this," Yuliya said. "Is that really true? Anyone can rise in the ranks, no matter their backgrounds?"

    "Oh, it's true, alright." Enfys sounded almost smug. "Doesn't matter if you're a slumdog or from some backwater like Oiriall. We don't lock people out of positions. If you're strong enough to win in the tournaments…then our land's your Omanyte."

    "That's certainly true. Many ríthe have come from the dregs or fairly ordinary backgrounds," Yannick went on. "Our current rí's a bit of an exception—his granddad was the Chief of Annwyn—but our tánaiste's a prime example of that. She grew up very poor, but swore she'd rise up and earn a better living for her family. She did just that, fighting in tournaments, and now that she's second from the top, both she and her family are living quite a good life. "

    "Yep. Better than living as a peasant your whole life serving some amadán who was born with that role," the Gabite boasted. "In our country, you have to prove you're worthy of being called Chief."

    "But being strong doesn't necessarily equate to being a good leader," Yuliya pointed out. "One could be an excellent combatant but not know the first thing about leadership."

    "Well, of course," Yannick said. "That's why some of our tíorthahave tests beyond just raw strength. We're not as uncivilised as the Dressies would make you think."

    "...I see." The Furret sounded slightly annoyed. But she chose not to pursue that point further.

    Meanwhile, at the back of the group, Arian heard every word. It's like the argument with Isaac again, he thought, thinking back to the similar discussion he'd had with the Espeon in Kitesh. He was at least glad the Albans seemed to be in line with his point back then. But given his low mood, he didn't want to revisit that debate.

    A strength-based society…I'd probably be bottom in that. We were completely trounced.

    Looking over at his partner, he saw Elvira just as downcast. Normally he'd try and cheer her up, but he wasn't even in the mood to do that. Partners should always look out for each other. But we weren't strong enough in that last fight, he moped. Should we really be the ones doing this? How can we win over Alba if we're this weak? Yuliya can't carry us all the time…

    Arian let out a long sigh as he peered around at the scenery. One thing he had gotten accustomed to was his species' night vision, which was certainly a plus.A savannah landscape surrounded him, with sparse vegetation and dry grassland to his left. To his right, low, undulating slopes stood, and the dominating Empyrean Mountains loomed behind them.

    As he looked to the hills, a strange feeling crept upon him. He would've registered it as a shiver down his spine if he wasn't shivering from the cold already.

    What is this? Unconsciously, the tassels on his head raised slightly, as he tried to find a meaning for this strange sensation.

    "Um, Arian?" Elvira's voice drew his attention. "Is something the matter?"

    "I don't know." The Riolu looked towards the hill again. "I think…" He closed his eyes and tried to use his senses to discern what was going on. "I think there's someone up there."

    "Is there?" Elvira looked concerned. "Are they an enemy?"

    "I don't know." Arian couldn't shake off his worry, though. "They could just be a hermit living in this part of the country or something. A scavenger, maybe? Or—"

    "Hey!" Enfys' yell cut him off. "Stop dawdling, you two! We've a schedule to keep to!"

    "O-Oh, sorry!" apologised Arian, before he and Elvira hurriedly catching up the distance between them and the other three. Yannick and Yuliya gave them questioning looks, but said nothing, continuing to march onwards.

    Enfys' scorn, though, had gotten to Arian. And that only made him feel worse about things.

    There's only going to be more people like her. …How am I going to win them over?





    A few hours later…

    The five trudged through the dry savannah in the dark for some time. It wasn't long, however, before the sun began to rise. And with it, the chilling cold was gone…

    And replaced by sweltering heat.

    But calling the heat 'sweltering' didn't do it justice. At least not in Arian's eyes.

    "Hah…Hah…Why is it so hot?" he moaned. His throat felt as dry as the lands around him. "How can it go from being so cold to…being this hot?"

    "I've…never felt heat this intense." Elvira put her hand to her head. "This is worse than anything we had all summer in Selenia…"

    "I'll say," Yuliya panted. "This is stifling…"

    "...Can't argue with you there." To their surprise, Enfys seemed to agree for once. "This summer's been rough for Alba. Even us desert 'mons have had a tough time."

    "You can say that again," Yannick seconded. "The Istwyth's weathered all kinds of drought over the centuries, but even this summer's taken its toll on it. You'll see when we get into town."

    "When'll that be?" Arian asked. He was all but ready for a rest, and escape from this stifling heat.

    "In a moment. We're not too far from Teamhair. Just hold on tight."

    It took a few more minutes of walking and Arian moaning about the heat before finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they arrived at their destination.

    It was a relatively small town, at first glance, though it was major enough to have an archway at its entrance. The words 'TEAMHAIR' were inscribed upon it, and two guards, a Donphan and an Espathra, stood guard on either side of it. They stood to attention when they saw the five approaching.

    "Halt!" ordered the Espathra, before seeing who it was. "Ah, Team Scalebreaker. You've returned." They relaxed.

    "We sure have. And with Lady Sorcha's torc in tow," Yannick replied. "It was these three who found it first. They're Selenians, actually."

    "Selenians?" The Donphan frowned.

    "Yes. We'd like to take them to the Chief. They have business in Breifne, they say."

    "Supposedly," Enfys huffed.

    "Hmm…" The two guards eyed Team Elpis and Yuliya with suspicion. "...They don't look the strongest. Our Chief will be able to handle them if they get any ideas."

    Arian and Elvira flinched at their words. Yuliya breathed in, trying to hide her chagrin.

    "You can enter." The Espathra gestured to inside the town. "But no funny business. We don't want Sels spreading their bad influence into our country. Clear?"

    "Crystal," Arian murmured, as he and his partners followed Enfys and Yannick into town.

    The path before them was a bricklaid one, marking a clear path through the town. A public square stood ahead of them, and lining the streets on either side of them were buildings of a variety of different colours. Green, pink, yellow, blue—it was admittedly something of a surprise to Arian as he looked around.

    "So many colours," he murmured.

    "I know, right? It looks good," Yannick said. "If it was all just old dull sandstone, things would get boring pretty quickly. Other Alban towns do this as well."

    "Feh. Looks like a child's playroom with how gaudy it is." Enfys wasn't quite as complimentary.

    "Come on, En. They put effort into painting those houses…"

    "A wasted effort. The sandstorms will get them anyway and throw all of that work away. "

    "...Whatever. Let's just find the Chief's house." Yannick's eyes then drifted to a shopfront of a pink building with a striped awning above it, and he stopped. "Actually, wait. Let's go there first."

    "A tailor's?" Yuliya noted, looking at the sign outside.

    "Yes. As it stands, go around like you are now, and you're at a high risk of being burned by the sun," warned Yannick.

    "You said it, Yann. The Alban sun is harsh at the best of times. For Sels like you, it could be deadly," Enfys lectured.

    "...We should have thought of that." Yuliya visibly flinched at her mistake. "My apologies, you two. I should've planned better in advance."

    "Well, better late than never to right that mistake." Yannick marched up to the door and opened it, a bell chiming as the group went. The Selenians were grateful for the shade once they were inside.

    "Ah, customers!" a bubbly voice greeted, and the five caught sight of a middle-aged Squawkabilly smiling at them warmly. "What can I get for you, dears?"

    "Three rawst scarves, please," Yannick requested. "They're for our travelling friends."

    "Ah, of course. I'll get them." The Squawkabilly went to the back room, returning with three headscarves. "There you go!"

    "Thank you very much." The Hakamo-o handed her the money, before taking the scarves in hand. "Put these on, you three. You're going to need them. They'll keep sunburns off you."

    "Thanks." Arian took the fabric from Yannick, and unfolded it. He did realise one thing as he went to put it on, though. "We might have to lose the scarves Zenobia gave us."

    "We will, won't we…" Elvira wasn't happy to hear that.

    "Our health comes first," Yuliya said, wrapping the scarf around her neck and tying it. "It wouldn't do if we succumbed to the Alban sun before we found His Highness."

    "I understand." Elvira untied her scarf, filing it away in her bag, and donned the rawst one. It was the same colour as hers, albeit a lighter shade of blue. Arian followed suit.

    "That looks the part. That'll do them," Enfys remarked. "Now then. Let's get to the Chief's."

    They went outside, and instantly, Team Elpis and Yuliya felt the difference. Now that the rawst scarves were around their necks, the sun didn't feel as deadly to them. It was still blazing, and the heat was still there, but they were that slight bit cooler thanks to the scarves.

    They went through the town, following Enfys and Yannick as they navigated their way to the Chief's residence. They passed through the square on which a stone monument stood, and turned right.

    Ahead of them, a path to a large house stood. But before that was a stone bridge with small columns stylised on either side of the bridge's rail.

    As they approached the bridge, Arian noticed a change in Yannick's emotions. For whatever reason, the scaly dragon seemed to get anxious and worried. Hm? What's this about? Is he…worried about meeting the Chief of this place?

    "Arian! Look!"

    Elvira's call drew his attention. Once again, strange emotions—a note of shock and mild horror. He saw his partner pointing at the river that ran under the bridge.

    Or rather, the river that should've ran under the bridge. But…

    "What the heck?" Arian couldn't believe what he was seeing. "It's all dried up…"

    At best, a pitiful trickle ran through the river. But looking at either bank of what the riverbank should've straddled, the river had evidently been much wider than this.

    "Yep." Yannick came over to look at it. "That's it. Our beautiful Istwyth, reduced to that…That's what months of drought has done to our mighty river."

    "The River Istwyth…The main river that runs through Alba, all dried up." Elvira didn't want to believe what she was seeing. "How horrible…" She looked away, not wanting to look for much longer.

    "This must cause a lot of hardship for your people," Yuliya added. "If the main artery of Alba is dry, then that's many people without water. In a country known for its harsh desert, no less…"

    "Eh. There's bound to be an oasis nearby that they collect water from," Enfys said. "Other towns have found ways to get by. The Chief here's probably worked something out. At least I hope he has." She beckoned to the house. One thing Arian noted was the bite in her voice had lessened a tad. She must be affected by this too. Even if she tries to hide it…

    With the bone-dry river firm in their memory, the group of five marched to the Chief's residence. It was a larger house than normal, painted a bright green, and with a bell outside to ring for visitors. Yannick sounded it, waiting for a reply.

    Not a moment later, he received it when a Bombirdier appeared before them.

    "Greetings, Team Scalebreaker," they said. "Chief Mac Mánais is home right now. I will let him know of your arrival."

    "Thank you very much." Yannick replied.

    "It is no problem." The Bombirdier bowed to him respectfully, before heading back into the house. They returned later, and led the group of five into the house.

    The interior looked to be clean and well-kept. Furnishings were also not in short supply, and a red rug ran through the foyer where the group of five entered. The Bombirdier butler requested they waited while he fetched the Chief. Before long he returned, with the man himself appeared.

    "Hello, hello, hello!" a Scrafty decked out with fancy garments greeted. "Team Scalebreaker, welcome back! I see ye've returned. And I see ye brought some visitors with ye." He glanced over at the three Selenians, who were quick to stand to attention. Yuliya even bowed in respect to him.

    "Hah!" That incited a laugh out of him. "Don't ye be so formal! I'm not the rí now. I'm just Féilim Cochaill Mac Mánais, the Chief of this wee tír." The Chief's down to earth reply did wonders to relax the two.

    "You're still highly respectable, Chief Mac Mánais," Yannick said to him. "Don't play it down."

    "Yer as kind as they say, Scaleshield Yannick." the Scrafty sounded flattered. "Kind enough to help a 'mon like me in need. …Now then. Do ye have Sorcha's torc?"

    "We do indeed." Yannick produced the item in question. "Here it is." He handed the item to the chieftain.

    "Ah! Thank ye so much," Féilim said gratefully.

    "But you should know one thing. These three found it before we did." Yannick gestured to the three Selenians. "We had a duel against them, and they won."

    "What?" The Scrafty was shocked. "Ye…won against Team Scalebreaker? Ye beat Cutthroat Enfys and Scaleshield Yannick?"

    "One of them did." Enfys' remark proved she was still unhappy with the brawl's result back at the border.

    "But they still won, En, and that's what matters. …So Chief Mac Mánais. I'd like to request that you give the money to them instead."

    "What?!" Arian and Elvira were taken aback.

    "Ah, I couldn't say no to strong ones like ye lot!" Féilim went over and handed the money to Elvira, who was still mesmerised by the offer. And even more so when she saw how much it was.

    "500P? That's more than usual," she remarked, stunned. "Are you sure, Yannick?"

    "I am. You won fair and square. And you did find the torc first," the Hakamo-o reasoned. "So you should have it."

    "I…" Elvira didn't know what to say. "Thank you so much, Yannick." She filed the money away for safekeeping.

    "Oh, and stay for lunch too!" Féilim wasn't finished. "Sorcha, the hubby and I were just about to sit down to eat. We'd be thrilled to have guests!"

    Despite some mild protests from Yuliya about imposing on them, the Scrafty chief was insistent. And so, they sat down for lunch in the dining room, with a Darmanitan and a Scraggy. The Darmanitan humbly introduced himself as Eoghan, Féilim's husband, and the Scraggy introduced herself as Sorcha. Various dishes, most of them berry-based, were wheeled out and served to the five guests.

    Arian couldn't help but notice Yannick's eyes light up at the sight of food. Next to the Hakamo-o, he saw Enfys give her partner a deadpan look.

    Once they were all seated, the Selenians regaled them with their tale of brushing against Mitrofan and his supporters, and their task of finding Prince Leonid in Breifne. That drew the interest of the chieftain and his husband—and the mockery of their daughter.

    "Your prince? Here?" Sorcha wasn't having it. "A Sel prince wouldn't last five minutes in our country!"

    "...Forgive me, but His Highness is a capable fighter." Yuliya bristled, but kept her composure. "He was trained by our own knights in the art of combat. He knows the meaning of the word, I assure you."

    "Pfft. So? He'd be no match for a true Alban warrior!" boasted the Scraggy. "I bet even I could beat him!"

    "Now, Sorcha," Féilim chided. "You don't want to be makin' challenges you can't live up to."

    "Yeah, whatever, Dad." She stuck out her tongue at him. "You know me. I'm the best of the best out of my friends. And when I win that competition tonight, everyone'll respect me, just like they respect you!"

    "Can you win, though?" Eoghan didn't sound confident. "I haven't seen you training as much in the last while as I have some other kids."

    "I-I have!" she blurted defensively.

    "She hasn't," Enfys whispered scathingly to Yannick. Her partner, however, was too engrossed with chowing down food to reply.

    "Mmm. I guess we'll see this evening," muttered the Darmanitan, returning to his meal. Everyone else did too, and silence reigned for the next few minutes until the meal was finished.

    "Welp, guess I'll go train. That'll be proof, won't it, other Dad?" Sorcha said, as she hopped down from her chair. She walked past them, but quickened her pace once she passed the Selenians. Arian sensed feelings of contempt for them.

    What have we ever done to her? he wondered, feeling irked. By just existing?

    "Didn't even thank us for the torc." Enfys was quietly seething.

    "I'll have a talk with her later. You'll get your thanks soon." Féilim's sigh sounded as though this was familiar. "I'll make sure she says it to ye before that taxi takes ya to Breifne tomorrow."

    "She'd better," the Gabite grumbled, before getting up. "Gonna train for a bit. Yann, you up for a few rounds?"

    "Not right away. There's something I wanna do first," Yannick said.

    His eyes then fell on Arian. "Can we talk for a bit? Alone?"

    "Uh, sure." The Riolu couldn't hide the apprehension in his voice. "Guess we'll meet in a bit, Elvira and Yuliya."

    "I'd like to rest after that journey," Elvira said. "That was quite a trek."

    "At least we're safe from Mitrofan's forces here." Yuliya was relieved. "I doubt he'd chase us into Alban territory."

    "And if he did, I'd get that Silver Armour fecker to bugger off meself!" Féilim was saying. "If that heap of rust comes knockin'..."

    His voice faded out as Arian left the room with Yannick.

    "I'm not gonna pummel you to bits, don't you worry," Yannick said. "Just wanna talk."

    "Talking? You could've surprised me," Arian muttered. "I thought Albans were all about fists over words."

    "Hey, we're more diplomatic than that!" the Hakamo-o objected. "Well, some of us are. Anyway," he said, surveying the lounge room they'd ended up in. "This should be good enough." He sat down on a nearby chair, Arian following suit.

    "So," he began. "You and your partner are both glum as anything. Something got you down?"

    "Well…" Arian was reluctant to divulge.

    "Come on. You can trust me," Yannick assured. "I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're afraid of."

    There was a soft tenderness from the dragon that Arian hadn't been expecting. It prompted him to give an answer.

    "I don't know if Elvira and I are cut out for this," he said. "Just feels like we've been on a losing streak lately…"

    "Oh, loser's blues. I've seen that plenty of times. I wouldn't worry too much," Yannick assured. "You'll bounce back before long."

    "But it's always been this way," Arian moped. "Ever since Elvira and I formed a team, it's always felt like we've needed somebody else's help to win. Like with Yuliya back there. And that's when we do win. Other times we've barely escaped with our lives." He shuddered, thinking back to the confrontation at Rusalka. "We shouldn't be here. We're not strong enough. Our Alban friends are much stronger than us."

    "Alban friends?" Yannick's attention was piqued.

    "Yeah. They're a team of three. Ishmael, Axel and Lillian of Team Sandstream. I know Axel's dad objected, but they'd be much better at this job than us. But they can't come up." Arian was despondent. "Because Mitrofan's forces nearly drowned them."

    "What?" The dragon immediately stiffened.

    "Yeah. Elvira and I would've drowned ourselves if not for the help of someone else." The Riolu shivered, thinking back. "We really cut it close, and Team Sandstream cut it even closer than we did."

    "Team Sandstream, huh? …What tír were they from?"

    "Oh, er…" Arian thought back. "Oiriall, I think it was."

    "Oiriall?" A frown crossed Yannick's face. "Hmmm…"

    "What is it, Yannick?" Arian asked. Admittedly, he was a tad curious about this place that Team Sandstream were said to hail from.

    "Nothing. Don't worry your head about it." Yannick looked away slightly. "Let's just say Oiriall hasn't had the best reputation in recent years."

    "Huh, really?" That doesn't sound good…

    "Yes. But we're getting off-topic a bit," Yannick said. "You're moping because you're not strong enough? You're up against a ruthlessly powerful dictator and his men. Honestly, you should be counting yourself lucky that you're still alive. I'd say that's a victory in itself. As for losing against En and me, we're Platinum Rank. And you're…what, exactly?"

    "Bronze."

    "See? Big difference. And En and I train a ton. If we lost to rookies like you, no offence, that would be quite embarrassing for us. It would certainly damage our reputation among our peers back in Breifne. Though…we still lost to Yuliya." He looked at his curled right fist. "I see I still have a ways to go.

    "But whatever. Know this, Arian. I'm on your side. All that stuff you've been going on about in Selenia, with Silver Armour Mitrofan going after Guild mercs…I don't agree with that at all. I stand for us mercenaries, and so does En. She might be grumpy, but she'll warm up to you, don't worry. And I'm sure once we tell our rí and tánaiste, they'll be on your side too."

    "Rí and tánaiste…" Weird names these guys have for their leaders.

    "Anyway, I think that's everything. I'm your ally: I'm not gonna punch you in the back." Yannick went to leave, but stopped before opening the door. "You're too interesting for that."

    "Interesting?" That intrigued Arian. "How am I interesting?"

    "Just something about you. I bet most Albans would be excited at your partner being Fernblade Kallias's kid. But they'd probably overlook you. If you want my honest opinion…I reckon you're the jewel on your team."

    "Am I?" Somehow, the Riolu couldn't bring himself to believe that.

    "Yeah. There's some untapped potential in you that could come out with a bit of training. And hey, as a fellow fistfighter, I'd be happy to help there." Yannick gave a toothy smile. "You want a training session, give me a shout."

    "...I'll consider it," Arian replied. That might be worth a shot. "Thanks, Yannick."

    "Anytime." And with that, Yannick left the room.





    The dragon made his way to the training area. He'd kept Enfys waiting for too long, and he didn't want to slack on training on his own end. Besides, it's a great excuse for food afterwards. Even if I did just eat…

    "Scaleshield Yannick, ya there?"

    "Hm?" Yannick was snapped out of his thoughts, and looked ahead. Féilim was standing in front of him. "Oh, hello, Chief Mac Mánais. Did you need something?"

    "I do need a wee favour from ya," the Scrafty said. "That wean with ye. The Riolu. Arian, was it?"

    "Yeah, that's his name. What about him?"

    "Well…"

    The Chief of Mumhain beckoned him closer and whispered something to him.

    Once he'd whispered his plan and went away, Yannick blinked in surprise at the Scrafty's request.

    Huh…Guess I'm not the only one who saw something in him.





    The afternoon went on, and with it, the blazing heat intensified. Enfys and Yannick weren't bothered enough by the heat to not train. But it was far too hot to train for the Selenians, so they sojourned in the Chief's residence, trying to beat the heat. Unfortunately, the taxi wasn't due to arrive until the next day, so that left them with little to do but read the books in Féilim's study.

    Arian was admittedly surprised at the Mumhain chief's collection. But then he reminded himself that being a battle-hardened warrior didn't mean they couldn't appreciate literature.

    And so they passed the day by reading. Arian and Elvira engrossed themselves in books about Ardalion's history, while Yuliya delved into a book of fiction. The hours ticked by as the trio flicked through pages, new information gleaned by each of them.

    This was especially so for Arian, and he was voicing his findings to Elvira when they had a moment alone.

    "That was quite interesting what we were reading," he said. "Five heroes, and a Tyrant King, who was backed by an evil dragon. What was its name again?"

    "Giratina the Renegade," Elvira said.

    "Yes, that was his name." Arian recalled that name, as well as the illustration in the book. It was a grey, black and red serpentine dragon with tendrils. He recalled it being depicted in Iria Cathedral as well.

    "So five hundred years ago, this evil tyrant ruled over all of Ardalion with an iron fist. He was a Tyranitar, and worshipped Giratina the Renegade, bringing his chaotic influence into our world and threatening its very existence. But five heroes, backed by Arceus's power, rose up against him and overthrew him, sealing away Giratina in the process. Then each hero formed their own country out of the lands that the Tyrant King once controlled. Is that right?"

    "Yes," Elvira said. "That's correct."

    "And then there were the Five Heroes. There were Ruslan, Riagán, Padavona, Metaxas and Aesir. Each became the leader of each of the countries they founded. And those are the countries that make up Ardalion today."

    "Yes. And our leaders are directly descended from the heroes. Prince Leonid, who we're looking for, is a descendant of the hero Ruslan. The house he founded is named in his honour."

    "...So it must be quite something for someone to overthrow that dynasty, huh?"

    "...It is. Mitrofan disrupted a long-standing order that kept Selenia together by killing Tsar Kliment. Now that bloodline is left only in one person."

    "It's still alive, though. That's the most important thing," Arian reminded.

    "Of course."

    Elvira was about to continue, but the door knocked before she could get her words across. She got up and answered the door, where Yuliya stood.

    "Elvira. Arian," she greeted. "Chief Mac Mánais wants us to go to the town's training grounds."

    "Training grounds?" Arian cocked his head. "Why there?"

    "I do not know. But Enfys and Yannick are headed there too," Yuliya went on. "I think we should too. Now that evening's beginning, it is cooler out."

    "Thank God," murmured Arian. "I'd burn up if I spent a minute more out there."

    "We should go, then." Elvira went to fetch her scarf, Arian and Yuliya doing the same. Once they were all prepared, they began to head out of the building.

    "So what was that book you were reading, Yuliya?" Arian wondered, as they walked down the hallway.

    "It was an adventure romance novel about a Dewott and a Quilava," Yuliya replied. "They form a team together and attempt to avoid manipulation by greater powers. It's really quite sweet at times, and I'm enjoying it so far! I wonder if I can find it elsewhere so I can keep reading."

    "Oh, I know that one. We have it at home," Elvira said. "Yeah, I liked it a lot too when I read it. You should read it sometime, Arian. Actually, hmm…" She looked as if she was considering something.

    "Hm? Elvira?" Arian tilted his head, as they headed out of the residence and into the rays of the sun again.

    "...Oh, it's nothing. I'll tell you some other time." Elvira cast a glance over at the entrance, where Team Scalebreaker were waiting for them. "We have places to be right now." She turned her attention to the dragons. "Good evening, you two."

    "Evening, Elvira," Yannick returned. "And you too, Arian and Yuliya."

    "Hmph. Didn't see any of you training," Enfys said, unimpressed. "Gotta keep vigilant if you want to stay on top of us Albans."

    "Let them be, En," Yannick said. "They can rest if they want. They're not our responsibility, anyway. It's up to them what they do here."

    "Tch. They can laze around for all I care. But if you all are serious about overthrowing your cruel leader, then you gotta get better. You two especially." She pointed to Team Elpis. "If you can't defeat us, then what hope do you have of defeating that hunk of rust?"

    "B-But…" Arian's excuse died at his lips, realising full well the Gabite had a point. He looked away glumly, Elvira doing the same.

    "Never mind about that," Yannick said. "What's say we go watch some fighting in the town's training grounds?"

    "Wait…But doesn't the Chief want to meet us there?" Arian said, confused.

    "He does. To watch the matches. Sorcha's participating in them."

    "Ohh." Arian understood.

    "Anyway, let's not keep the Chief waiting." The dragons started down the path, with Team Elpis and Yuliya trailing behind.

    They headed back into town, crossing the bridge over the parched Istwyth. All tried to avert their eyes, but it was too grim not to look. The stream that grew into the nation's mighty river was now nothing more than a trickle. That hit it home for them, that whatever hot weather Selenia experienced, it was nothing compared to what Alba had to deal with.

    Moreover, though cooler now that evening was beginning to settle, the sweltering heat persisted, much to Arian's disapproval.

    "Urgh…" He wiped his brow. "It's still so hot…"

    "It's not as bad now, at least," Yuliya said. "Even so…it is far from pleasant."

    "Better get used to it," Enfys sneered. "Breifne's not much cooler. You have a bit of a sea breeze there, but that's about it."

    "Hmm…Strange." Yannick peered down at Arian. "You're not panting like most other canine 'mons do in this kind of heat."

    "...What?" Arian was puzzled, until it occurred to him. It's normal for dogs to pant when they're hot. Oh…Oh no.

    "That is true," Yuliya noted. "That is odd that you don't pant, Arian."

    "Er…" The Riolu scrambled for an excuse. Crap! Can't let them know I'm human, can't let them know I'm human! "Um, I-I wasn't raised by Riolu!" he blurted. "I mean Lucario!"

    Team Scalebreaker looked at him strangely.

    "Why so jumpy?" Yannick wondered. "It's not like orphans don't exist in this world."

    "Y-Yeah, that's it," Arian said. "I'm an orphan. My parents aren't here anymore…" He looked down, emulating sadness.

    "You didn't have parents?" Yuliya was surprised. "This is news to me."

    "It's understandable if you don't want to talk about it," Yannick said. "That can be tough."

    "...Yeah," Arian murmured.

    "I gotcha." The Hakamo-o nodded. Arian then noticed what seemed to be a hint of familiarity in his eyes, coupled with…sadness?

    Hm? What's this about? Is this about 'me not having parents'? Does…Does he not have any?

    And as they marched on, Arian couldn't help but feel like something was missing. Like there should have been something in that last conversation that wasn't there.

    Hold a minute… Looking over at Yannick's partner, he noticed Enfys hadn't spoken during that exchange. What was more, he could detect similar notes of despondence from her.

    These two…Their emotions aren't too different from each other. Did they both have rough childhoods or something?

    His attention drifted away from that plight upon hearing the sounds of cheering and yelling.

    "That sounds like a crowd," he noted.

    "It is," Yannick confirmed. "Fight nights in Alban towns are popular. There's always a big turnout for them. One of the best ways to build friendships are at these. Plus, some of them even serve food. Mmm…" He licked his lips. "I wonder if they'll have anything this evening?"

    "No guarantee of that, Yann," Enfys reminded, rolling her eyes at her partner's food fantasies.

    They came to the training grounds entrance. Féilim and Eoghan were waiting for him there.

    "There ye are!" the Scrafty exclaimed with delight. "I was gettin' a wee bit worried ye'd lost yer way."

    "It's not a big town," Enfys snarked. "How could you get lost here?"

    "Mm, it's happened to some folks. 'Specially the lot not from here. But anyhoo." Féilim beckoned his hand. "Come in! We got seats for ye."

    The Mumhain chief and his husband walked the five through the crowd, past the outer reaches of the crowd. Luckily, they were quick to give away in recognition of their chieftain, which Arian was quite surprised to see. They really do respect him. Is this what Alban respect for strength is like?

    As they walked past, some passersby began to murmur. Team Elpis quickly realised they were the subject of some of the whispering.

    "Who are those guys?"

    "I've never seen them around town before."

    "But I have seen them! Look, it's Team Scalebreaker!"

    "It is them! Scaleshield Yannick and Cutthroat Enfys! That's them in the flesh!"

    "Eeee! Look how handsome Scaleshield Yannick is!"

    "I wanna be lifted up in those arms…"

    What? Arian blinked at that last one. And was all the more shocked when the Hakamo-o winked back at the one who'd said it—a Charmeleon. Is Yannick flirting with them?

    "We're here to watch the games going on in here," Yannick said to the crowd. "We want to see what rising stars are making waves. Who knows? If there's some good ones, we might even recommend them for the Rí's Guild in Breifne."

    That got the crowd excited, and they were full of chatter as the group of eight sat at where the Chief was sitting. A line of chairs were on a special dais, demarking his high status and one worthy to sit there with his specially invited guests.

    "Team Scalebreaker have entered the audience!" an MC, a Crocalor, announced. "Hopefully that'll make our matches more exciting for tonight! Our next entrants—be sharp! Victory on your part could mean an admission right to the Rí's Guild itself!

    "Now let's meet our entrants! Sorcha versus Mainchín!"

    A Scraggy and a Carkol took to the field. Both looked ready and prepared to fight. Anticipation took hold of the audience as the next match began with the announcer's yell.

    "Begin!"

    Both Pokémon leapt at each other. Sorcha wasted no time getting into the thick of it, leaping at her opponent with a flying kick. Mainchín the Carkol tried to roll out of the way, but was too slow, and he received the brunt of the attack, to cheers from the audience. Quickly, Arian could discern the favourite of the crowd.

    And as the match carried on, it became apparent who had the greater skill level. Sorcha ran rings around Mainchín, deftly dodging shards of stone and blasts of fire and countering with her own kicks and punches. Not long after the match had begun, it had ended, with the lump of coal laying on his back in defeat.

    Sorcha smirked. "What's the matter? Fallen and can't get up?" she teased. "While you're down, let me just make sure that victory's mine…" She went over and gave him another kick for good measure.

    The crowd cheered once again, except for where the Chief was sitting. All observers there watched grimly.

    "W-Wait! What's she doing?" Arian said.

    "She shouldn't do that!" Elvira was appalled. "Kicking someone while they're down…"

    "It's most unchivalrous." Yuliya looked upon the scene with contempt.

    "Got that right," Enfys growled. "No offence, Chief, but your daughter's a piece of work."

    "En!" Yannick pleaded. "Sorry, Chief, she didn't mean—"

    "No, Cutthroat Enfys is right," Eoghan interjected. "I'm sorry, my love, but I have to put my foot down here."

    "I hear you." Féilim sighed. "...I suppose we'll enact the plan now, will we, Yannick?"

    "I guess so," Yannick said. He looked back to the field, where Mainchín was carted off to be treated.

    "And the winner of that round is our rising paragon, Sorcha!" the announcer cheered, putting his claws in Sorcha's and holding their arms up high.

    "Aw yeah!" the Scraggy cheered. "At this rate, the Guild's a shoe-in!" She turned to where her father was sitting. "That good enough for you, Team Scalebreaker?!"

    The audacity of this girl… Arian thought.

    "Hmmm…Maybe." Yannick put his claw to his chin thoughtfully. "Takes a bit more than that though, usually."

    "What?! Come on!" she cried. "I've been busting arses here all night long! Ain't that true, Dad?"

    "...I don't deny you that, m'iníon," Féilim said. "But how about a wee wager? Team Scalebreaker and I have got one more challenge for you."

    "Yeah? What?"

    "Beat another challenger in battle. One that's been specially nominated by them and me."

    "Name them. I can beat 'em no problem."

    Arian had been watching all of this tensely, wondering where this was going. He was half expecting another strong fighter from the town to take to the field, or perhaps Team Scalebreaker themselves.

    He was completely unprepared for Yannick grabbing his arm and raising it in the air.

    "We nominated Arian of Team Elpis to be your opponent!"

    Shocked gasps carried across most of the crowd. But loudest of all…

    "Me?!" Arian looked to the Hakamo-o, demanding an explanation.

    "I know a fair amount of us have doubts about Selenians and their strength. So why not see that truth for our own eyes and nominate one of theirs?"

    "Come off it!" Sorcha yelled. "I'm not challenging a Sel! They're weak as shit!"

    "If they're weak as shit, you'd be able to take them on, no problem!" taunted Enfys. "What's the matter? Can't beat even one of them?"

    "O-Of course I can!"

    "Then duel him! A true Alban never backs down!"

    "Wise words, Cutthroat Enfys." Féilim's voice was loud and clear. "I permit this to go ahead. Arian shall duel my daughter."

    "W-Wait!" Arian cried, before Yannick began to drag him towards the field. "Don't I get a say in this?!"

    "What Enfys said goes for you too, Arian," Yannick said. "If you can't beat Sorcha, you'll have no hope of taking down your enemies at home." He continued to drag the human towards the field. As Arian tried to wrestle free, he heard murmuring from the crowd.

    "That Riolu's a Sel?"

    "Must be. He sure doesn't look like one of us…"

    "Look at him! He doesn't wanna do this, does he?"

    "Coward. He's no Alban. A true Alban would be running up there and duking it out with Sorcha!"

    Damn…I gotta go through with this, don't I? Arian resigned himself to the fight as he was brought to the field.

    "Hah! Do you really think you can beat me?" Sorcha's snark drew him towards her.

    "Not really like I have a choice," Arian said.

    "Coward!" Sorcha taunted. "Come on, let me fight someone who actually wants to do this!"

    "Fight her!" a voice in the crowd demanded.

    "Fight!" another voice joined in.

    "Fight!"

    "Fight!"

    "Fight!"

    A chorus soon developed. Arian looked around him, and was shocked. Just about everyone in the crowd was yelling for a fight to go down. Enough that it made him weigh it up.

    Backing down would be suicide. If I do that in front of all these people, I can kiss any hope of winning them over goodbye. But…I'm not strong enough…

    "You can do it, Arian!"

    That voice…Elvira?

    He saw his partner, shooting a determined look his way as encouragement. Yuliya, next to her, did much the same.

    They want me to win…But can I?

    "Hey! Eyes over here, Sel!" Sorcha's yelling turned his attention back to her. "You gonna fight me or what, you coward?"

    "...You calling me a coward?" He'd ignored her previous comments, but now it was getting personal.

    "Sure am!" Sorcha stuck her tongue out at him. "Sels are as pathetic as they come!"

    This was an opinion shared by others in the audience.

    "Yeah! Sels are a bunch of pushovers!"

    "This'll be open and shut. No way a Sel's gonna beat one of our own."

    "My gran could beat a Sel to a pulp and that lady's old with arthritis!"

    Arian's heart sank at all the jeering and derision from the audience. Wh-Why is it like this? Why do they hate us? Why do they hate me?

    "Why do they hate me? What did I ever do to them?"

    Arian wasn't sure, but something about that phrase sounded familiar. Like he'd said it a million times before.

    "I'm not weak!" he cried out.

    "Then prove it, you wimp!"

    And straight away, she leapt at him. Arian had no time to react before she kicked him square in the gut.

    "Oof!" He was knocked flat. "H-Hey, the match hasn't started yet!"

    "You dawdled! So I'm starting it now!" fumed Sorcha. "Come on! Get up!" She kicked him in the side.

    "Agh!" Pain filled the Riolu's side. At that moment, he felt something welling up within him, like an emotion he couldn't suppress.

    I'm fed up with this. I'm not weak, and I'll prove it to them!

    He blocked Sorcha's incoming kick and socked her in the stomach.

    "Agh!" the Scraggy cried.

    He got back to his feet while she reeled from his blow. Balling his fists, he got into a battle stance. Loose and fleet-footed, just like Galen taught me.

    "You got a lucky hit," Sorcha said. "But let's see you dodge this!" She rushed towards Arian, a dark energy coating her fist. The Riolu saw her come closer…

    …And just before she struck, he feinted to the right, and punched her in the side.

    "Urgh! Screw you!" Sorcha hit back with a kick, to cheers from the audience.

    "Gh!" Arian gritted his teeth. He ran towards her, and readied a fist flurry.

    But as he got close, Sorcha suddenly dived at him. Before Arian even realised what was happening, she'd grabbed his right foot, which made him lose his footing and fall to the ground.

    "Agh!" he cried. But before he could get back up, the Scraggy kicked him hard in the stomach.

    "Hah! Take that, Sel!" she taunted. "I'll kick your spineless ass back home!" She emphasised this by kicking him again and again, and again, much to her supporters' delight.

    "Go get 'im, girl!"

    "That's our Sorcha!"

    "Go home, mutt! We don't need weakling Sels in here!"

    Arian heard the disparagement of some of the crowd. That contempt and disdain for him…he felt it come out more prevalently. He was an interloper in a foreign land, showing this pride of village what was what.

    Strength earns respect…Well, I'll just have to win this then, won't I?

    He blocked an incoming kick from the Scraggy. Then he grabbed it, and shoved her away. He dashed forward and slammed his trademark Force Palm at her.

    "Ergh! Ow, that hurt!" whined Sorcha.

    "Have some more, then!" Arian punched her again, twice, before kicking her in her midsection. Sorcha jumped out of the way, but he chased her down.

    He had to admit, there was something cathartic to it all. Maybe I can win! Encouraged, he leapt at her and kicked her in the side.

    "Grr! Take this!" Dark energy coated Sorcha's fist and she punched Arian hard with it.

    "Urgh!" Arian was thrown backward, forcing him to cease his assault. He knew that dark energy; he'd seen it with Galen before. Payback…Guess I got too greedy. Ow, that smarts…

    At least he'd worn her down some more. But victory wasn't assured yet.

    I can win this. I can. I just gotta persist!

    "Fate is on your side. Believe in yourself, first and foremost."

    Hm? That voice…
    It sounded like it was in his head. What was that? Who was that?

    But he couldn't answer those questions just yet, for Sorcha was coming in for more.

    "Damn you, Sel!" Her fists coated with dark energy again. "Just give up!" She thrusted a punch at him, grazing his side.

    "No way in hell!" Arian retaliated with a roundhouse kick, Yannick's callout in the last fight coming back to him. Gotta mix it up. Can't be the same all the time.

    Sorcha was on the back foot now. But she was far from giving up. She leapt at Arian, who was expecting a punch or kick.

    He wasn't expecting the sudden blow to his head as she headbutted him hard.

    "Gaaaah!" he cried. That one hurt more than normal, and he couldn't resist a small wave of nausea and dizziness at the blow. He dived to his left, dodging Sorcha's follow-up palm thrust.

    I can't lose! Not here. Not while victory's in reach…!

    "In extremis, your power is at its greatest. You must tap into it."

    That voice made him stop for a moment. But a moment was enough for Sorcha to slam a punch into his gut.

    "Gh!" That blow took the air out of him. "N-No…!"

    "You'll never win, Sel!" Sorcha taunted. "Watch, everyone! I'm gonna finish his sorry ass off!"

    "Do it!"

    "Finish him!"

    "Fate is on your side. Victory will be yours if you believe in the power within you."

    Power…? I need that power right now. I can't lose!


    Sorcha dashed forward, intent to finish her opponent off. As she approached, Arian felt a sudden surge of energy within his paws. The power was coming to him.

    "Hi-yah!"

    Arian thrusted his paws forward. To the shock of him and everyone else watching, a wave of blue fire shot out of his paws. Sorcha took the full brunt of the attack, and screamed as she was knocked back into a Lickilicky spectator.

    That power! It came back! Looking down, he could see that his paws were aglow with that same energy back in Rusalka. Right when I needed it, too.

    By the looks of his opponent, he wouldn't need it either. Sorcha had been completely knocked flat by his attack. She was trying hard to get up, and the MC was gauging her to see if she would get up.

    "...It looks as though Sorcha Nic Mhánais, our Chief's daughter, has fallen to her Selenian opponent." he eventually proclaimed, as stunned as everyone else. "The winner for this match is…Arian from Selenia!"

    The crowd went wild with disbelief.

    "That Sel beat Sorcha?!"

    "No! It can't be! He cheated! He had to have!"

    "Look at his arms, the way they're glowing! That's not normal!"

    "That some Sel magic or what?"

    "Rematch! This time, fair and square!"

    "I'll beat that Sel myself if I gotta!"

    Remarks like this were yelled by a portion of the spectators. Those demanding a duel with the Riolu probably would've done so themselves, were it not for the intervention of another.

    Their chieftain, specifically. He got up from his dais in the midst of this furore, and silenced the crowd with one word.

    "Ciúnas!"

    That quietened the spectators, who looked at Féilim nervously.

    "A fair duel was had today. And Arian from Selenia was the victor. I, as Sorcha Nic Mhánais's father, decree this. You will hear no bias from me." He walked over to where his daughter had gotten to her feet.

    "D-Dad? Why are you saying that? You're saying I lost to him?" She pointed at Arian. "A Sel like him?"

    "Yes, Sorcha. Arian was simply the more powerful one. You were slackin'." Féilim shook his head. "Don't lie to me again, m'iníon. Ya didn't train at all, didja?"

    The Scraggy looked away, not answering her father. The silence told him the answer.

    "...We'll talk later." Féilim turned back to Arian. "Congratulations on winnin', Arian."

    "I knew you could do it!" Elvira had come down from the chief's dais, followed by Yuliya and Team Scalebreaker.

    "You certainly proved yourself well there," Yuliya complimented. "I can see why Guildmaster Melchior puts faith in you."

    "I had a feeling you'd pull through." Yannick looked down at him. "Knew there was something more about you." He pointed to Arian's arms, which were still glowing, albeit less so.

    "Hey!" Enfys, however, didn't address him, but the crowd. "Call yourselves Albans? We respect victors in this country! So shut up with your cheating talk! That was fair and square, and you know it!"

    Arian blinked in surprise. Did Enfys just defend me? Th-That is the same Gabite, right?

    "Told you she'd come around," Yannick said. "She's grumpy, but she recognises strength when she sees it."

    "I heard that, Yann." Enfys walked over and lightly jabbed his arm scales. "Don't talk shit about me again."

    "Sorry, sorry. Anyway, Chief. Looks like that gamble of yours paid off, eh?"

    "It did." Féilim nodded. "It was interestin'. Been a while since we saw a Selenian fighting here in town."

    "Gamble?"

    "Chief Mac Mánais said if you fought in here and won, then the ride home to Breifne in the morning would be on the house," Yannick elaborated. "Isn't that wonderful?"

    "Hold on." Elvira frowned. "Were you betting on Arian winning?"

    "Yes. And it paid off. You get a ride to Breifne, we get that ride for free, and Sorcha got a lesson the true Alban way - through losing a duel. Everyone wins!"

    "Speaking of which." Eoghan looked at his daughter. "There's something you have to say to the Selenians, isn't there, Sorcha?"

    Sorcha looked over at the Selenians, and to Arian in particular. She breathed in, with a slight huff, and…

    "Thanks for finding my torc. And…I accept defeat, Arian of Team Elpis." The last part, she sounded reluctant to admit.

    But at least she said it, and that was a good first step.

    "You're welcome," Arian said.

    "Come on, Sorcha. Eoghan. Let's get back to the house. It's gettin' late," Féilim said, before turning to the other five. "That goes for ye, too. That taxi'll be early."

    "Understood, Chief." Yannick nodded. "Come on, gang. Let's get some rest."

    The five followed the Mumhain chief out of the training grounds, onto the quiet streets. Night had set in, and with it, the desert chill returned.

    The Selenians shivered. At least, they'd be inside for tonight.





    "Did ya see that? The Chief really just done accepted him as the winner…"

    "Well, if the Chief says it, it's to be respected. Besides, I don't think that Riolu engaged in foul play at all."

    "What was that kid's name?

    "Arian, I think. He's got some strength in him, that boy."

    Chatter like this persisted among the spectators in the aftermath of the duel between Arian and Sorcha. As they milled out of the training grounds to pubs or their houses, what had gone down in the duel stuck in their minds.

    Particularly so, in the eyes of one cloaked quadruped who'd watched the whole match.

    They didn't seem to be affiliated with any of the townsfolk. Some gave them odd looks, but no one thought any more of them.

    The cloaked figure dispersed from the rest of them after the match. They headed along the path to the Chief's residence, and ducked into an alleyway just before the Istwyth bridge.

    They peered over at the group of eight walking down the path.

    Of the eight, their focus was directed on Arian.

    Their eyes glowed a golden colour once again.

    "...He is beginning to grasp his power. Now he is one step closer towards realising what lies within…"





    Notes

    For this upcoming arc in Alba, to reflect the Celtic/Gaelic etymologies of the country, I intend to sprinkle in some words from the Celtic languages (Irish, Welsh and Scottish mainly) in the dialogue of Alban characters. It'll only be occasional, and there will be a glossary at the end to explain each term's meaning. It's an idea that came to me, and in part inspired by Once a Thief and Fledglings, two PMD fanfics by Fobbie (the latter a collab with Virgil134) that incorporate this. Both are great fics and I would highly recommend them.

    Speaking of other PMD fanfics, there's a reference to one hidden in this chapter. Let's see if you can spot it. ;)

    Once again, thanks to Owry for beta reading this chapter. Thank you all for reading, and see you for the next one!

    Glossary

    Amadán - Irish for 'fool'.
    Tíortha - Irish for 'lands' or 'countries', the singular being tír. In the context of Alba, this is their equivalent of provinces.
    M'iníon - Irish for 'my daughter'.
    Ciúnas! - Irish for 'Silence!'
     
    Chapter 25 - Over the Sands
  • Arukona

    A Scribe Penning His Brainworms
    Location
    Ardalion
    Pronouns
    He/him
    Partners
    1. aggron
    2. sceptile
    Chapter 25
    Over the Sands

    Arian wasn't sure what hour it was when he opened his eyes. He would've thought it was a dark night at moonhigh, or the before-dawn darkness that he had awoken in the day before.

    But strangely…he found himself somewhere else. One that seemed to be bound in endless fog, where Arian could barely see two feet in front of him. It wasn't Chief Féilim's residence, that was for sure.


    Where am I? the Riolu thought. He was on solid ground, on some kind of stone that felt cold to the touch.

    "Hello?" he called out. It seemed to echo through the foggy surroundings. Was something in that endless mist?

    "...dy…"

    Hm? Is that a voice? Arian's ears pricked, trying to find where it was coming from, and what that voice was saying.

    "...Wh…r…ou…n…dy?"


    What are they saying? It seemed to be getting clearer, if only slightly. But Arian still couldn't make anything out.

    "Hello? Is someone there?"

    As he said this, he saw something come forward. A distant silhouette. Its shape wasn't distinctive, but the figure looked to be small, around his size.

    They seemed to come closer, becoming slightly more distinctive. A few details were slightly more visible. Bipedal, and almost canine-like, with—

    "Arian?"

    Another voice; this one sounded familiar. Arian turned away from the figure.


    "Arian, wake up."

    No, I need to find out who this is. I need to—

    "Arian!"





    "Ah!"

    Arian's eyes opened. He found he was no longer in that shrouded realm, but back in Féilim's residence where he had gone to bed the night before.

    "Oh, thank goodness. I was scared you wouldn't wake up."

    Looking over him was his partner, and he realised, the one who'd pulled him out of that dream. He wanted to be angry, but couldn't when he saw the concerned look on Elvira's face.

    "Elvira? Something wrong?"

    "You sounded like you were talking in your sleep," she said.

    "Was I? Damn." The Riolu suddenly felt embarrassed.

    "It's not about that. Yuliya came by just now to tell us that Team Scalebreaker were getting to leave," Elvira informed. "We need to get moving if we don't want to be left behind."

    "Urgh…" Arian wiped sleep from his eyes as he threw the blanket off him and tiredly rose from his bed. He blinked as he looked out the window and saw that just like the previous morning, it was still dark.

    We're doing this again, huh? Arian thought, as he flattened his bedhead and did a few stretches while he waited for Elvira to finish her checks.

    "...Alright, I think we have everything," the Treecko eventually said. "Let's go. They're waiting at the front entrance."

    The halls of the residence were quiet as Team Elpis made their way through the house. One thing they immediately noticed was that the freezing temperatures that accompanied them to sleep lingered when they woke. Diametric opposites of temperature held Alba in their grasp - freezing cold at night and blazing hot during the day. For the pair, unused to such climatic whiplash, it wasn't comfortable for them at all.

    During the walk through the quiet house, Arian's mind drifted to the strange dream he'd had before he woke up. An endless fog, along with a mysterious figure in the distance. What does it mean? he pondered. And just who was that? If only I'd stayed longer! I might've been able to figure it out if I did…

    The Riolu's mind continued to wander as they travelled to the front entrance of the Chief's residence. Team Scalebreaker and Yuliya were waiting there, ready to start the day's journey.

    "Urgh…" Elvira wiped sleep from her eye, and shivered. "It's so cold."

    "Better get used to it," Enfys said. "It's unfortunate, but Alba's climate doesn't move for anyone. Not even the strongest of warriors."

    "If only it did." A depressed look came into Yannick's eye, but he shook it off quickly. "How did we all sleep?"

    "Better than last night, at least," Elvira said. "The bed was quite comfy."

    "That it was," Yuliya agreed. "I left a letter of thanks for Chief Mac Mánais to pick up later."

    "Good." Yannick's gaze drifted to Arian. "How about you, Arian?"

    "...Hm?" The human was taken out of his thoughts. "Wh-What?"

    "I said, 'How did you sleep?'"

    "...Good, I guess," Arian murmured.

    And that was all he said. The group of four expected a bit more from him, and were surprised when he didn't deliver.

    Elvira shot him a look of concern. Even after the victory last night, her partner didn't look any happier. What was more, something about him seemed…off. For whatever reason, he didn't look to be paying attention.

    She was tempted to ask, but Enfys interrupted her.

    "Come on, you lot. Our taxi's not gonna come to us. We gotta meet 'em at the dock at the north end of town." The Gabite, not intent on wasting time, started down the path.

    "Well, nothing to do but follow." Yannick followed suit, and the Selenians took after him.

    Arian's mind drifted away from the dream and more towards that day's mission. But as the group passed over the dried-up Istwyth, he suddenly became aware of something else.

    A strange presence in the air, one he couldn't quite place. It was familiar to him, however. He'd felt this same presence before, very recently.

    "Arian? Is something the matter?"

    "Ah!" The Riolu, startled, turned to meet her gaze. "Oh, Elvira. S-Sorry. Got distracted, that's all."

    "...You're acting strange this morning," noted the Treecko. "It's not like you to be this jumpy, Arian. What's up? You can tell me."

    Arian didn't reply immediately. He looked around him, as if he was looking out for someone, before looking back at Elvira.

    "...You know yesterday morning, when it felt like there was someone watching us?" he said, with a hint of discomfort. "I feel it again this morning."

    "You do?"

    "Yeah. I felt it last night too, when I was fighting Sorcha." That, he was only realising now, although it was only in the heat of the duel that he had felt it. "That presence was there, among the spectators. They might've even spoken to me, through telepathy."

    "Wh-What?" Elvira wasn't expecting to hear that. "But who are they?"

    "I don't know. But if I can feel them again…then they're nearby." Arian looked around at the alleys they passed, peering down them to see if there were anyone suspicious watching him.

    Alas, through town, they spotted nothing out of the ordinary. Some townsfolk were up and about, merchants were setting up their stalls for the day and there was even some early morning chatter from residents who'd had the same idea of getting up before the day's blistering heat came along.

    Before long, they were at the town's northern exit, beside which a taxi dock lay. It was mostly empty, apart from a lone carriage on which two Aerodactyl duo rested before their next flight out.

    Beside them stood a familiar face.

    "Ah, there ye are!" Féilim called. "As promised, here's your taxi, free of charge!"

    "Damn straight. Good thing you live up to your promises," Enfys said. "We've been stiffed before."

    "'Mon of my word. Now I won't be keeping ye. Ye Selenian bunch have some important business, eh?" Féilim cast his eye to them. "The sooner ye get to Breffy, the better."

    "Yes. That's correct, Chief," Yuliya replied respectfully.

    "Best get on it, then. It'll mean less time in the roastin' sun and all that." The Chief stepped to the side, opening the door for them.

    There was enough room in the taxi for six; more than enough for the group. The Selenians and Albans sat on either side of each other.

    "Oh! Before ye go." Féilim remembered something. He dug into his pantskin and got out some coins, before handing them to Elvira. "A wee something for ye."

    "P-Please, Chief Mac Mánais, it's alright," Elvira urged. "We don't need—"

    "Ah, will ye whisht! Ye put some smacht on Sorcha, and that's plenty of thanks from me and the hubby," Féilim said. "She's still a bit sore from last night, but she'll come around. A hard loss often does that to folks."

    "Does it…?" Arian mumbled. As he spoke, Elvira filed away the money.

    "Don't ye worry. When you fight her next, Arian, she'll be more mature. No childish remarks or kickin' you when you're down."

    "I hope so."

    "Well, that's all from me," Féilim said. "Safe travels! Slán libh!" With that, he shut the door of the carriage. Once he was back far enough, the five could feel the carriage begin to lift off the ground.

    Arian peered out the window, and saw the Scrafty, waving goodbye cheerily. The sight of the town in the dark morning, with the first glimmers of dawn, was quite a sight. It would probably look even nicer when they took off into the sky and see the dawn shining on the land below.

    Then Arian's gaze then fell to the dock's gate, and he stiffened.

    There was someone, or something there. He couldn't see them, for they were obscured behind a veil. The darkness of the morning, too, made it hard to determine who or what they are. At first glance…he swore it was some kind of quadrupedal.

    Am I seeing things? He blinked, to make sure. But that was a mistake. Once he peered again, he saw that the cloaked figure had disappeared.

    What was that? That thought weighed on Arian's mind as the taxi ascended higher into the sky.





    Some time later, the sun rose, bringing with it the blistering heat that came with the Alban day. Team Elpis were looking no less forward to dealing with it today, but they had little choice in the matter. At least the rawst scarves provided relief from the heat.

    "Can't we open a window or something?" Arian complained, after about half an hour after sunrise. "I swear I'm gonna faint if it gets any stuffier in here."

    "What, and bring in the sand from desert winds?" Enfys said. "Much as I like the stuff, you lot would hate it. For your sake, don't open that window."

    "Mm." Yannick nodded in agreement. "Alban sandstorms can be pretty awful at the best of times."

    "But there's no sandstorms right now," Elvira pointed out.

    "No duh," Enfys mocked. "If there were sandstorms, there'd be no flight today."

    "...They've been happening a lot more lately," Yannick brought up. "Sandstorms."

    "Have they?" Arian wondered.

    "It's because of the rise in extreme weather events that have been happening," Elvira said. "Isn't it?"

    "Yes. And it's been particularly bad in the outback parts of Alba, like Annwyn and Dálriada. What precious little soil they have has been eroded away by the ferocity of the sandstorms, and now even the hardiest of berries are struggling to grow there." The Hakamo-o wistfully cast his eyes out the window. "Our Chief's had to divert food from other places to feed them, and that's agitated a number of chieftains, to the point where they've raided neighbouring tíortha and stolen food from them."

    "Damn, really?" Arian could feel Yannick's glumness, and the idea made him gloomy, too.

    "Yep. It's been a right headache for our Chief," Enfys said. "A fair amount of missions in the last while from him have been to settle quarrels between chieftains and their tíortha. Lemme tell you this: if you want a quick way to fill up your 'most-hated people in the world' list, just do those missions. You'll run out of parchment before you're halfway done with them all."

    "Can't argue with you there, En, as much as I hate to admit it," Yannick said. "The chiefs of Dálriada and Annwyn have been pieces of work to deal with. They're at each other's throats constantly. Honestly." His tone turned cynical. "Whatever happened to 'No strength without unity'? It's a time of crisis; we need to be unified! But no, they'll just keep blaming our Chief and saying, 'I'll kick your ass when the next Tournament happens!' People are suffering, and all they care about is fighting to become rí! Urgh! I hate it!"

    The last part came out as a shout, enough to surprise the three Selenians. Yannick met their gazes, and an apologetic look immediately crossed his face.

    "S-Sorry," he apologised. "I didn't mean to get worked up like that. It's just…there are times where the whole 'strength is everything' message gets to me. Like it's the only thing that matters in the world."

    Arian and Elvira both blinked. They hadn't been expecting this speech from the Hakamo-o.

    "Strength is still the best way to measure our leaders," Enfys said. "But some pricks who win their tournaments wave that entitlement around in everyone's faces, like they were destined to win it. What I wouldn't give to wipe the smug smirks off their faces."

    "Well, y'know…the next Tournament's only two years away," Yannick mentioned. "We might be able to knock them out of their chief's chairs."

    "Hell yeah." The Gabite flashed a toothy grin. "Then we'll sort this damn country out."

    "You said it." Yannick curled his hand into a fist, and Enfys bumped it with her claw.

    "The Tournament?" That interested Arian. He'd heard it in passing before, but now that he was in Alba, he could hear the info from the Mudsdale's mouth. "What's that all about?"

    "You wanna know about the Tournament?" Enfys said, as an excited look came into both dragons' eyes. "It's the greatest show Alba has to offer, that's what!"

    "The Tournament," Yannick began. "Is a great event that happens every twenty years in Alba. When this happens, there's a complete shake-up of the order of Alba, as every position in the country comes up for grabs. Within each of our tíortha, there's a competition to become the next chieftain. Those are decided in their own brackets, and the winners of that then go on to compete against each other. All of them strive for the ultimate prize, and that—" He paused for emphasis, "—is the position of rí itself."

    "Rí? What, you mean…the actual leader of Alba?" Arian had heard snippets of this in passing, but to hear it from the mouth of Albans themselves was something else. "You compete for that?"

    "Yep! After all, any rí's gotta be as tough as nails," Enfys reasoned. "Can't exactly have a rí that's pampered to death. Why would we respect someone who's weak? If they've proven themselves through fighting in the Tournament, at least we have a reason already to respect 'em."

    "And even if they don't win the tournament outright, their strength is still recognised," Yannick went on. "The runner-up becomes tánaiste, and competitors become Chief in each of their tíortha. So we don't always look out for number one; we look out for the rest, too."

    "But strength alone is not enough to rule," Yuliya pointed out. "One could be strong, but they may not be adept at strategy, economics or any of the political thought required to rule a nation."

    "We know. That's why there's rigorous exams to boot," Yannick said. "It's not like we're offering it up to just anyone. You have to have grit if you wanna gun for the top—both physically and mentally."

    "That's…daunting to think about," Elvira murmured. "I don't know if I could deal with that kind of societal pressure if it was all about getting strong."

    Arian, hearing that familiar tone in his partner, put his paw in hers as a comforting gesture.

    "What about the lesser people in society? Those who aren't fighters?" the Treecko continued. "Don't they have a place in Alba?"

    "...W-Well, of course they do." Yannick's stutter didn't go unnoticed. "Not everyone's gonna be good at fighting. The Tournament's a way to find who'll lead them. Every nation needs a leader. Isn't that why you're all in Alba in the first place?"

    "Even so…" Yuliya said. "Offering up the leadership of the country like a prize to compete for is a concept utterly alien to me."

    "Understandable. It's not exactly something we share with you or the East," Yannick said. "But it's the way we've lived since our founding by the hero Riagán."

    "Yeah. Tradition, and all that. Not exactly something you can change," Enfys added. "Just don't be like the East and call us savages for it. Fuckers," she spat angrily. "Who are they to call us that?"

    "Let it go, En." The Hakamo-o's gaze hardened at the mention of the East. "I hate them too, but getting mad about them won't do us any good right now." The Gabite huffed at her partner's words, and looked out the window.

    That terse exchange had been witnessed by the three Selenians, who looked at each other in wonder. Team Elpis had heard of the hatred Albans held for the Eastern countries, but now they were seeing it in action.

    In Arian's mind, particularly, the gears were grinding.

    Just what could this be about? Somehow I get the sense this runs deep…





    "Wake up, sleepyhead! We're nearly there!"

    "Mmm…Wuh?" Arian's ears flicked as he blearily opened his eyes.

    The heat of the day had made the Riolu fall asleep in the carriage. But he woke suddenly upon hearing Enfys' harsh words. Here's hoping that doesn't become a trend, he thought.

    "We're nearly there," Elvira told him. "Look." She pointed out the window, and Arian looked out…

    …And found himself mesmerised at the sight.

    Below him, the Istwyth meandered in its chase for the ocean. Its sprawling nature, though, was a far cry from the mere trickle that they saw of it back in Teamhair. This was more like the mighty river that the tales spoke of; one that was undaunted by the heat of the desert sun, and provided nourishing water to thousands of lives within Alba. The land was also cast in evening light, with the sun glittering upon the river's waters.

    On either side of the river, there was agricultural land being tilled by farmers. The land looked quite dry, though, as though rain hadn't fallen in months. Regardless, farming was still taking place, with beds of berries planted and awnings of shade placed over them to protect them from the harsh sun. They would have to be protected - exposure to a sun like Alba's would be a quick avenue to Yveltal's embrace.

    "I'm amazed food is still growing, given this heat," Yuliya commented. "I knew berries were hardy things, but this is something else. Being able to withstand heat like this is admirable."

    "Eh." Enfys shrugged. "Dunno about that. The heat's been leading to some misshaping of berries beyond what they normally look like."

    "Misshaping?" Elvira noted.

    "Yes. We have some berries like that in here." Yannick dug through his and Enfys's bag, before digging out three berries; two pechas and an oran. Or…what should've been berries. But it was as Enfys had said; they were malformed, twisted into strange shapes. Even Arian, who was still unused to the unusual fruits of this world, knew how odd that seemed.

    "Goodness." Yuliya was stunned. "We had some heat in Selenia ourselves earlier this summer, but I don't recall anything like this happening to our berries. If there was, I never heard of it. Then again, when that heatwave arrived, I was away from the farm."

    "Farm?" Arian wondered.

    "Oh yes, did I not mention that? I worked on a farm while on the run from Mitrofan. Though I got to know the variety of berries that made up our nation's diet, none were misshapen like these."

    "Well, misshapen or not, food's food," Yannick said. And before anyone could stop him, he gobbled them up. "Mmm…doeshn't tashte different from usual." He gulped them down after a few bites.

    "I swear, Yann, your gluttony's gonna get the better of you one day," Enfys murmured crossly. "Someone's gonna take advantage of it."

    "En, not this again," the Hakamo-o groaned. "You know I only raid the pantries of the chiefs that wrong us."

    "Wait, wait, wait," Arian interrupted. "You what?"

    "You heard him. He raids pantries, the greedy fuck," Enfys jabbed.

    "H-Hey! Only those that deserve it!" Yannick protested.

    "So Cairbre deserves to have his pantry raided most nights, does he?"

    "Yes! He never gives me enough! I swear, that Rhyperior has it out for me!"

    "I'm only surprised our Chief hasn't done anything about it. You'd think he'd give us a stern lecture or something. Especially given the kind of 'mon he is…"

    "Your Chief?" Yuliya tilted her head. "I've heard you mention them a few times now."

    "Ah yes, our Chief," Yannick acknowledged. "You'll meet him when we get to the Guild in Breifne. He's a stern leader sort of chief, but he understands what's what. He'll be able to sort things out with you. Maybe even find that prince of yours."

    "I do wonder where he is…" The Furret looked out the window wistfully. "I only hope His Highness hasn't had to endure too much in his time here."

    "Guess you'll figure that out when you meet with him. He has to be somewhere. We might even help you look for him,'' Yannick suggested. "Like I said back in Mumhain, we'll support you guys against Mitrofan, in the name of mercs and their freedom."

    "We are thankful for your assistance, Team Scalebreaker," Yuliya professed.

    "Eh. Don't count on help right away," Enfys said. "We're busy folks, Yann and I. The Chief'll probably have a mission for us when we get back to the Guild. Always feels like that these days..."

    "It certainly does." Yannick looked set to elaborate further, but broke off as his gaze fell to the outside window, and the sight that lay in view. "And there we are. That's our home."

    Arian and Elvira stared out with him, and could see the sight of a sprawling stonewalled city ahead of them. The Istwyth cut through the middle of it, and bridges across the river could be seen. Along with that, a sturdy wall of sandstone surrounded the city, as a prime defensive structure against attackers.

    "Is that Breifne?" Arian said.

    "No, it's a tiny hamlet with no name," Enfys snarked. "Of course it's Breifne."

    "Breifne…the administrative centre of Tír an Rí, and the capital city of Alba. It's also the home of many, Enfys and myself included." Yannick spoke these words with pride. "It always feels great to come home like this."

    "...Hmph." In contrast to her partner's enthusiasm, Enfys didn't seem as pleased. Though she didn't say anything, Arian could sense mixed feelings from her. There's a story behind this, the Riolu mentally noted.

    The taxi approached Breifne, and the five were greeted with an overhead view of the Alban capital. It was comparable to Iria in size, and while the Selenian capital may have slightly edged it in size, it wasn't that which amazed Arian and Elvira. It was the overhead view of the city, the view of the plethora of people milling around on the city's streets below, and the impressive architecture on display. In the sea of buildings, Team Elpis and Yuliya spotted a tall spire with a clock face and stained glass windows; Breifne's cathedral, no doubt.

    That wasn't the only awe-inspiring sight, though. The flow of the Istwyth through Breifne, splicing the city in two and a prominent stone bridge across the river was quite the defining feature of Alba's capital. But beyond that, where the Istwyth flowed to next, Arian and Elvira could spot a vast delta, with many islands. And beyond that…the vaguest glimpse of the sparkling ocean off Ardalion's north coast. The view of all of this was enhanced by the evening sunlight, casting the dry land in an orange glow.

    "Wow…" Arian was in awe.

    "You're that impressed, huh?" Enfys sniffed.

    "Let them be amazed, En," Yannick said. "It is their first time here."

    "Mine too," Yuliya brought up. "I've never been this deep into Alba. I've only ever been to the southern regions."

    "There's a first time for everything, I guess. Not many Selenians get up this far. Glad to see you've all made it." Yannick outstretched his hand, and shook with each Selenian. "Now then. Do you see that building there?" He pointed down to a large fort that stood on an island in the middle of the river, connected to either side of the city by two stone bridges. "That's the Rí's Guild, right there."

    "And it's where we're headed," Enfys said. "That's where our Chief lives. He'll talk to you about what you're looking for."

    "I wonder what he's like," Arian wondered. "Does he have links to the rí? Will we be able to see him? What was his name…?" He racked his brains, trying to remember it.

    "Oh, don't worry. You'll see our rí too," the Gabite said. Strangely, though, she looked like she was trying to withhold laughter. Arian frowned at her, trying to discern the meaning behind this.

    He was about to ask further questions, but he saw the taxi begin to descend towards the ground. He, Elvira and Yuliya got ready for landing, holding onto their seats as their carriage descended upon a larger than usual taxi rank - one that dwarfed the one in Teamhair. It was located on the Istwyth's eastern bank, next to the stone bridge that led to the Guild's island.

    Two minutes later, the taxi landed, the two Aerodactyl placing the carriage gently on the ground with precision - something they'd had experience with, no doubt. Arian stretched as he got up - plainly, he'd been in that position for a while.

    The door of the carriage opened, and one of the Aerodactyl held it open as the five exited the enclosed space. They breathed in the sweet fresh air - a slightly salty scent, given their close proximity to the ocean.

    "Out that way and to the left," Enfys directed with her claw. "The Guild's located on Oileán Uí Riagáin, across that bridge you saw from the air."

    "Right, okay," Arian said, as he and his allies followed Team Scalebreaker's lead.

    As they walked, something occurred to him. "How long was I out for?" he asked.

    "Quite a while," Elvira told him. "You even slept through the changeover in drivers we had when we landed at Gleann Órga a few hours ago."

    "Wait, what the heck?" Arian blinked. It couldn't have been that long, could it?

    "Knew it," Enfys said to Yannick. "He was lying through his teeth back in Teamhair. Staying up all night reading books, probably."

    "I-I was not!" the Riolu protested. "I got plenty of sleep!"

    "Sure you did. You were yawning enough to make a Komala blush."

    "That's because…!" Arian was about to retort, but then he realised that it would require explaining that odd dream he'd had, and even he wasn't sure what that was about. And if I don't know what it's about, what hope would I have of explaining it to everyone else? he thought.

    "Well, whatever," Enfys said dismissively. "Your lack of sleep, your problem. Don't drag us down while you're at it." She marched onwards, and Yannick followed after her. Realising they were being left behind, the Selenians fought to close the gap.

    As they walked to the Guild, Arian's mind lingered on that dream. Then, it went back to that mysterious figure. I'm not imagining it, he thought. I did feel a presence this morning. He thought back to before dawn, when they were strolling through the dark streets of Teamhair. Whoever they were, they were there this morning.

    I wonder…
    His mind drifted through the odd sight he saw as they left Teamhair, of the cloaked figure behind Féilim. Just who was that? Why were they watching me?

    His mind was full of questions, but alas, answers were in short supply. It wasn't like he could ask the people of Teamhair, given he was at the opposite end of the country by now. Sighing at that unsolved mystery, Arian focused back to the present.

    They were crossing a sandstone bridge over the flowing Istwyth; thankfully, not a dried-up trickle of a stream but rather a majestic flowing river, splitting up as it weaved either side of the island the Guild was on. That building, a prominent fortification on the island, was the biggest building around, rivalled only by the cathedral on the eastern bank.

    They crossed the bridge and stepped onto the river island. To their right, the fort's entrance stood, marked by a portcullis and guarded by two guards, a Bastiodon and a Naclstack. They became alert as they saw the five approaching.

    "Team Scalebreaker," greeted the Bastiodon. "You've returned."

    "But who are they?" The Naclstack pointed to the three. "They don't look like anyone I've ever seen. Clients?"

    "You could say that," Yannick replied. "They're looking for help. But not just any help; the help of the Chief."

    "The Chief?" The Naclstack was unable to suppress a laugh. "That's quite the ask. You do know our Chief doesn't just speak to anyone, do you?"

    "Quite right," the Bastiodon, one with a gravelly tone, replied. "Explain yourself, young'uns."

    "It's an emergency!" Arian could feel himself getting worked up, in no mood to deal with this kind of attitude. "We're here because a country's life hangs in the balance! And we need big-time help!"

    "Hah! Did you not hear me? The Chief won't listen to just anyone, mutt," mocked the Naclstack. "Unless you think you've got what it takes?"

    "What are you—" Then it hit Arian. Oh, for the love of… "You want a fight, do you?"

    "Well, since you're offering, yes!" A thrilled look came into their eyes. "Guard work's boring as shit. Since you're talking big, can you put your fists where your mouth is?"

    "Fine! If that's what you Albans are all about, then let's go!"

    "Oh, you're on!" The Naclstack got into a battle stance. "Come on, Alasdair! Let's kick this runt's ass!"

    "You do it, Salann." The Bastiodon sounded almost fed up. "I'm not moving from this post. I won't fly in the face of the duties our Chief entrusted us."

    "Yeah, whatever, Gramps," Salann retorted. He stepped out from his post, and got into a battle stance against Arian. Behind them, Team Scalebreaker directed Elvira and Yuliya to stand to the side, in understanding that a fight was about to ensue. The Selenians saw their point and obeyed.

    "Right, then." Salann looked into his opponent's eyes. "Your name, Riolu."

    "Arian," came the reply.

    "Arian, huh? What clan are you from?"

    "Clan?" The Riolu tilted his head in puzzlement. Clans? That's a new one. "What do you mean?"

    "...What?" All eyes were on Arian now, Salann's more than anyone. "What clan are you from? What Alban can't answer that question? Unless you're an outlaw?"

    "I am not an outlaw!" Arian protested. "I'm Selenian!" That declaration drew a fair few whispers from passersby that noticed the duel that was about to go down.

    "A Sel?" Salann was incredulous. "No way in hell, you fucking liar! No Sel has the guts to come this far up north! You're an outlaw, I'm damn sure of it!"

    "Grrr!" Arian bared his teeth. Between the heat of the day and his opponent's accusations, he was becoming increasingly ticked off. "Why not say that to my face, you block of salt?!"

    "Oh, you're on!" Salann began charging towards Arian, and the Riolu did the same, a Force Palm at the ready. He struck as the Naclstack lunged, hitting the rocky quadruped's head, and forcing him backwards.

    But rock shards fell at Arian's feet, displaced from the blow he dealt his opponent.

    "Yeowch!" he cried, feeling the Stealth Rock pierce his pawpads.

    "Ha! Get fucked!" taunted Salann, before shooting mud at Arian. The Riolu dodged out of the way in time, the softer stone a contrast to the sharp shards of Salann's Stealth Rock. The guard didn't let up, though, shooting more mud at Arian until it hit. The Riolu hissed as he felt the mud pelt him.

    He didn't let that phase him, though, running towards the Naclstack and striking his front, staggering Salann and stopping the mud assault.

    "Gh! Annoying mutt! Take this!" Salann headbutted Arian as hard as he could. One of his head's sharp edges caught the Riolu's side and elicited a pained cry from him as he was pushed back.

    "Ow! Agh! What the hell?" Arian looked at where he'd been struck, and saw it was bleeding. But he saw a white powder around the wound - a similar residue that he was noticing wherever Salann walked.

    "How do you like some salt in the wound, outlaw trash?" taunted Salann. "Maybe the Chief'll see this and promote me! I deserve it!" Behind him, Alasdair uttered a disdained groan.

    Arian winced as Salann's Salt Cure worked its magic. Damn…gotta turn this around. Otherwise, the Guild here'll never respect me! He breathed in, trying to weather the pain of the salt, and ran towards his opponent.

    "Want more, do ya? I'll give you some more!" Salann rushed in again, expecting another head-on assault from the brash canine that he could easily block.

    But to his shock, Arian suddenly dived, and Salann missed his lunging Headbutt. Seconds later, he felt a powerful force strike him in the chest.

    "Argh!" he cried, toppling to his side. Arian took that opportunity and slammed another Force Palm into his side. But remembering the duel he'd had with Sorcha the night before, he leapt back, not wanting to be seen to kick a 'mon while he was down.

    "Oh wow!" a voice suddenly called out. "What's going on here? A duel's happening!"

    Hm? Arian looked looked around him, but the voice didn't sound like it came from any of the passersby that had taken interest in the duel that was taking place. It's not around me. So then it must've come from…above? He looked up, and was greeted with his answer.

    "Buuuut…as cool as this duel is, it's kinda blocking the way, don'tcha think?" A multi-coloured long necked bird descended from atop the portcullis, landing next to where Arian and Salann were duelling. "Our mercs have to get in and out of the Guild, and blocking the way's a big no-no!"

    The voice sounded chipper, almost childish. It could easily have been a gruff, stern tone shouting those words to them, but the Archeops' tone was that of light chiding, as opposed to an authoritative telling-off.

    "Oh, s-sorry." Nonetheless, Arian felt guilty. Looking at some of the spectators, some had an impatient look in their eyes. We really must've been blocking their way, huh? He looked down, his ears drooping in disappointment.

    "Aww, it's okay," soothed the Archeops. Arian looked back up at her; she was giving him a pitying look. "You didn't start it, did you?"

    "...No. I didn't." That realisation came to him. "It was him!" He pointed to Salann. "He wouldn't let us through and called me an outlaw!"

    "Hey!" Salann yelled back at him. "Show our Tánaiste some respect, outlaw trash!"

    Tánaiste?

    "Show him some respect, you mean!" the Archeops interrupted. "Be nice to your opponents, Salann! And don't call him an outlaw! Do you have proof?"

    "P-Proof?" Suddenly, the Naclstack's defiance faded in the face of the Archeops's outburst. "W-Well, I, uh…H-He's n-not from a clan, Tánaiste! He said as much! He's probably a filthy Cered! You know what they're like!"

    "Don't be mean to them!" the so-called 'Tánaiste' said. "How about you go to Trahy and repeat that?"

    "T-Tánaiste!" Salann realised his mistake. "I-I didn't mean to say that. I-I apologise! P-Please, I misspoke!"

    "Don't say sorry to me." The Archeops looked sternly at the guard. "Say sorry to these people for blocking their way. And say sorry to…" She turned to Arian.

    "Arian." The Riolu gave his name.

    "Say sorry to Arian, and everyone else. Will you, please?"

    "Urgh…I'm sorry, Arian." Salann looked humiliated. "And I'm sorry, everyone, for blocking your way."

    "There we go!" Suddenly, the Archeops was chipper again. "Now, just get back to your post, and everything will be alright!"

    Wordlessly, the Naclstack got back to his post.

    "Yay! Okay, everyone, you can go on through!" the Archeops called to the spectators, as she flapped and perched herself on a nearby wall. With the obstruction cleared, the traffic through the Guild entrance began to flow again.

    One thing Arian noticed, though, was the respect everyone gave the Archeops as they passed her by. He'd heard what Salann had called her - 'Tánaiste'. What did that word mean again? It was something important…

    "Oh! Team Scalebreaker!" The Archeops' eyes lit up at the sight of the dragon duo. "You're back!"

    "It's good to see you, Tánaiste," Yannick said. Arian noticed that he had that same respectful, almost reverential look in his eye. His emotions exuded that same thing; this lady, whoever she was, was held in high esteem by him.

    "Heya, Yannick! And you too, Enfys!" she greeted. "How did the mission in Mumhain go?

    "It went okay." To Arian's shock, Enfys held similar feelings for the Archeops. But Enfys hasn't shown anyone respect, has she? Not even Chief Mac Mánais… "We do have a bit of news for you, though, Tánaiste, and it involves this lot." She gestured to the three Selenians.

    "Ooooh, really?" The Archeops looked down at Team Elpis and Yuliya. "I've never seen your faces before! Who are you all?"

    "I am Yuliya Gerasimovna Lysagora," the Furret introduced. "And these two are Elvira and Arian." She gestured to Team Elpis. "We are from Selenia, and have travelled to Breifne to seek help."

    "Selenia? Oh wow! It's been a while since we've had anyone visit from there!" The Archeops was elated, but then suddenly froze, remembering something else. "Wait a minute…Are you—"

    "We're not with Mitrofan," Elvira immediately clarified, seeing what the bird was about to ask. "We're against him."

    "Oh. …Oh really? That's cool! I'd love to hear more!" the Archeops babbled excitedly. "Oh, but not out here. Maybe inside the Guild?" She gestured a wing inside.

    "That would be best, yes," Yuliya agreed. "We don't want everyone hearing us, after all."

    "Right, then! These people are coming in!" The Tánaiste looked over at Alasdair and Salann, who stood aside to let the cavalcade through. Arian caught the aura of envy around the Naclstack as they passed him.

    Oh well. That's the way it is in Alba. Strongest always wins, eh? He stared down at his paws. Maybe I'm not as weak as I thought…

    As they walked into the Guild, a vast courtyard greeted them. Various Pokémon of all different shapes and sizes milled around the Guild courtyard. Some were looking at noticeboards, deciding which mission to take next. Some were merely chatting about the day's events, or a recent mission they'd been on.

    Amidst the ruckus, Arian heard what sounded like shouting.

    "Come on! Backs into it! You've still got fifty more to go!"

    He looked to his right, and blinked at the sight. A Bouffalant was barking orders at a line of trainees, who were all doing exercises. They were clearly struggling, though; Arian could feel and see the collective strain of them. Some looked like they were ready to faint on the spot.

    That's quite strenuous, isn't it? Imagine if I had to do that with Galen. He shuddered. Thank God he's more lenient than that. All about meditation rather than endless exercises.

    "It's almost like a castle grounds," Elvira observed, looking around her. "Then again, mercenaries are Alba's equivalent of knights. They don't have the hybrid system like we do."

    "Huh? Really?" Arian was surprised to hear that. "No knights at all?"

    "From what I've heard, yes. That's what the books I've read say about it."

    "Your books are wrong," Enfys, who overheard their conversation, butted in. "We do have knights, actually. Not many, but we have them."

    "They're for our rí," Yannick explained. "Though it's a formality more than anything. To spot an assassination attempt before it happens, or to set things up in advance for him. It's not like they need to protect him, though."

    "Too right," Enfys snorted. "He'd wipe the floor with us. And we're some of the stronger mercs around."

    "Yeah. Our rí's on another level altogether." Yannick looked towards the Guild's main building. "You might meet him, actually. If he hasn't left to settle a quarrel himself, that is."

    "You will! You will!" The Archeops flapped her wings excitedly. "Rí Trahaern's in the Guild right now! I'll ask him to meet you all so you can talk to him about what you wanna talk about!"

    "Er, sure." Arian was a bit puzzled by the girl's bubbliness. It feels strange. Why do I feel like I'm missing something about her? About…

    "Hang on." He realised something. "We didn't get your name, er…'taw-nish-ta'?" He pronounced that word the Archeops had been called.

    "Oh, of course!" Just before they got to the entrance, the Archeops turned back to the five of them. "You all wanna know my name? Well, Team Scalebreaker knows it already. But for the rest of you…

    "I'm Scáthach Ildaithe Ní Riagáin! Tánaiste of Alba, and deputy Guildmaster here at the Rí's Guild!"

    "Oh. Well, nice to meet you, Scáthach." A small smile crossed Arian's face, now that he knew the Archeops' name.

    "Arian." Elvira nudged him. "You do realise who you're talking to?" Nervousness had crossed her face.

    "Huh? D-Do you know her, Elvira?"

    "No, but…she's the Tánaiste of Alba."

    "And?"

    "Oh, by the rí's trunk, you're slow!" yelled Enfys. "Tánaiste Scáthach's the deputy leader of Alba, you idiot! Second strongest person in the whole damn country! Have some respect for her!"

    "Wait, what?!" Arian was taken aback. I had a feeling she was important! I knew 'Tánaiste' meant something! How did I forget that?

    "Oh, don't make a big deal of it, Enfys," Scáthach downplayed. "Not everyone knows. Some people in Alba don't even know! I've only been Tánaiste for three years."

    "You're the Tánaiste of Alba, Scáthach?" Yuliya was quite surprised. "At your age?"

    "Age doesn't mean much," Scáthach refuted. "If you have determination, you can achieve anything, no matter your age! And I was strong enough to rise to this position!" She then looked to the side, slightly abashed. "Even if I wasn't expecting to do that well…"

    "A surprising victory, it was," Yannick agreed. "But you're our Tánaiste now. I won't not respect you."

    "Aye." Enfys nodded. "The old Tánaiste was an old crock, anyway. Good to have some new blood in the system."

    "Hehe. Thanks, guys," Scáthach said. "Oh, but let's not delay the Selenians! We have to get the rí to see them! Let's go inside, and I'll make the arrangements!"

    With that, they headed inside the Guild. One thing Arian noticed immediately was that it was almost like a castle in which a king would reside. Along with the various mercs, demarcated by their orange scarves, many servants scurried to and fro. Statues and armour plating stood to either side of the main hallway, and and ahead of them, stairs ascended to a dominating-looking room with appropriately large red doors. The throne room, the RIolu presumed.

    Except they weren't headed there immediately. Scáthach led them through one of the hallways on their right. They continued along this path, before the Archeops opened the fourth door on the left.

    Inside lay what looked like a canteen. The smell of delicious food cooking permeated the air, enough that it made Arian and Elvira's stomachs collectively groan. Both realised at that moment they hadn't eaten in some time.

    "Hungry, eh? I am too, actually," Yannick said.

    "Good luck getting food from him," Enfys snarked.

    "Pfft. He won't say no to our Tánaiste. That's pretty much sacrilege here."

    "Hey, Cairbre! Tiarnán! Mòrag!" Scáthach called out to the serving counter at the far end. "Could you get food for six, please?"

    There was shuffling, and then three figures came from the kitchen in the back to the serving counter: a Rhyperior, a Chimecho and a Polteageist.

    "Ah, hello, Tánaiste!" the latter greeted. "Cup of tea?"

    "No, thanks, I'm in a rush. But get some food for these people!" Scáthach gestured to the five. "I'll organise an audience with our rí. In the meantime, get some food in you."

    "Thank you very much, Tánaiste," Elvira said.

    "Anytime. Just sit tight! I'll have it organised in no time!" With that, Scáthach flew out of the canteen to organise the audience.

    The four mercs and one ex-knight found a seat to sit down at. Few others were around; Arian deduced that they were out doing missions, most likely.

    "I see we have a couple of new faces." The Polteageist floated over to them from the serving counter. "We'll have some food ready for you in a bit. How many? The Tánaiste said six…" She looked confusedly at the group, before her eyes fell on Yannick. "...Ah. Right." She turned back to the counter. "Food for six, Cairbre!"

    "Food for four, you mean! I'm not serving you, you greedy bastard!" The Rhyperior glared at Yannick with eyes of fire. "Do you think I came down the Istwyth in a bubble, you gobshite? You raided the pantry three nights ago! I know it!"

    "Don't disobey the Tánaiste, Cairbre," Yannick reminded, his lips curling smugly. "She said food for six."

    "...Some day, your gluttony'll bring you death," Cairbre grumbled, before turning back to the kitchen. His sous-chef, Tiarnán, followed him.

    It wasn't long before the two chefs brought food before the group of five. Yannick licked his lips as two plates were put before him, and no sooner were they placed in front of him, then he started devouring the food before him.

    The meal looked quite appetising - a dish of rice, coupled with a variety of chopped berries, maize and other vegetables. Arian brought the spoon to his lips, and tasted it.

    Two thoughts immediately came to him.

    Mmm! This is nice!

    Followed immediately by—

    "Yow! Hot!"

    The food was piping hot, but it was also incredibly spicy. Safe to say, that was a recipe for a fireball of a meal. Arian glanced over at his fellow Selenians; their wide-eyed expressions followed by an immediate reach for the nearest drink. He followed suit, and downed some pinap juice, the refreshing beverage cooling his burning throat.

    "Goodness," Yuliya commented. "This is certainly a volcano in a meal. I can taste the tamato berries."

    "Oh, come off it. It's not that bad," Enfys sneered, before taking a spoonful and eating it without issue. "Not even that spicy. It could use some more."

    "M-More?!" Arian gulped, looking at the meal. But that's as spicy as it gets!

    "Honestly, be more like him." The Gabite pointed to Yannick, who was gobbling spoonful after spoonful of the rice. "Loves the stuff. Probably his favourite food. Would you say, Yann?"

    "Mm." The Hakamo-o swallowed a big mouthful before replying. "Yeah. Definitely. I love me some good ol' stobhach laoich." He went right back to eating, already nearly finished with his first serving.

    "Well, I do like it. It's just…the spice." Arian reluctantly picked up the spoon again.

    "Eat up or shut up," Enfys retorted. "Some don't have the luxury of choice. There's people in Breifne who'd kill for a plate of this. A lot of people…" She trailed off, turning her attention back to her food. The Riolu, feeling guilty over that comment, returned to his food.

    In spite of the meal's spiciness, he, Elvira and Yuliya got used to it, and before long had gotten through most of the meal (with burning mouths - Team Elpis in particular were resisting the urge to reach for the pinap juice every mouthful they took.)

    Just as they finished, the doors of the canteen opened, and Scáthach flew in excitedly.

    "Rí Trahaern is ready to see you! Follow me, and I'll bring you to him!"

    "Already? That was quick," Arian said.

    "All the better that it is," Elvira said. "The sooner we have information about Prince Leonid, the better."

    "Hopefully Svetlana too," Yuliya added. "My sister…I'll be with you soon. Just hold on a little longer." Her paw went to her chest in conviction.

    Her determined look steeled Arian and Elvira too, as they walked out of the canteen, down the hall, and to the main path through the Guild. The steps up to the throne room seemed numerous, but Team Elpis walked up that path, ready to see him. The leader that lay beyond those dominating doors.

    Guards on either side opened the doors, into a vast throne room. The red carpet continued forth towards the dais, and several guards on either side of the carpet stood to attention as the visitors were received.

    At the end of the room, rising from his throne, was an enormous elephantine Pokémon. His hide was dark green with orange markings, and he had tusks on either side of his face, sharp enough that they could run someone through with them. His huge body was square, and along it, he wore special garments bearing a distinctive crest - the same as the one on banners the group had seen thus far in Alba. Atop his head, a golden crown studded with jewels, chief among them an eye-catching red ruby.

    His very presence brought the Selenians to attention in awe and fear, as it sunk in for them just who this was.

    Scáthach flew over to him, and landed on a perch next to the throne. There, she threw a wing out in a grandiose manner, towards the Copperajah.

    "May I introduce to you all to Trahaern Gwyrddach Ó Riagáin! Our Rí, and the strongest Pokémon in Alba!"





    Notes

    Dálriada is named after the Gaelic kingdom that encompassed western Scotland and north east Ireland in the sixth and seventh centuries.

    Annwyn is named after the land that is an equivalent of paradise in Welsh mythology.

    Glossary

    Smacht - 'control' or 'discipline' in Irish.

    Slán libh! - 'Goodbye for now!/See you later!' in Irish.

    Stobhach laoich - 'hero's stew' in Irish. In Alba, this is a known cuisine.
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter 26 - Ríthe and Resilience
  • Arukona

    A Scribe Penning His Brainworms
    Location
    Ardalion
    Pronouns
    He/him
    Partners
    1. aggron
    2. sceptile
    Chapter 26
    Ríthe and Resilience

    At the end of the room, rising from his throne, was an enormous elephantine Pokémon. His hide was dark green with orange markings, and he had tusks on either side of his face, sharp enough that he could run someone through with them. His huge body was square, and along it, he wore special garments bearing a distinctive crest - the same as the one on banners the group had seen thus far in Alba. Atop his head rested a golden crown studded with jewels, chief among them an eye-catching red ruby.

    His very presence brought the Selenians to attention in awe and fear, as it sunk in for them just who this was.

    Scáthach flew over to him, and landed on a perch next to the throne. There, she threw a wing out in a grandiose manner, towards the Copperajah.


    "May I introduce to you all to Trahaern Gwyrddach Ó Riagáin! Our Rí, and the strongest Pokémon in Alba!"

    Enfys and Yannick walked forward, and bowed in respect towards their leader. The Selenians took a moment to follow suit, distracted by the awesome presence of the Copperajah before them.

    Trahaern looked down at the Selenians before him.

    "...So you wish to see me, ye from Selenia." The Copperajah's voice was deep and rough around the edges. He looked to be an old veteran, one who had seen his fair share of combat over his life. That was evidenced by his scarred trunk and body, and the position he held as rí told enough of his fighting prowess.

    "Yes, indeed, Rí Trahaern," Yuliya acknowledged. She stepped forward to speak. "We have come to you for information pertinent to our country's liberation from the grip of Mitrofan."

    "Silver Armour Mitrofan…" murmured Trahaern. "I have heard tales of his oppression of his people. The border chiefs keep me informed as to the goings on over our southern border. I probably don't have to guess why you're here: you want aid from me, don't you?"

    "That is indeed true," the Furret confirmed. "But more than that, we have come to Alba to find our tsesarevich, Prince Leonid Klimentovich Ruslan. We were informed that he had travelled to Alba after being rebuffed by the leaders of the East and failed to secure aid that would overthrow Mitrofan."

    Yuliya paused to take out the letter that Sansarn had sent to them. "This is a letter from His Holiness Pontifex Sansarn. He claimed His Highness and Lady Svetlana had travelled to Alba in search of aid. More to the point, he claimed this was proof affirmed by Their Grace Archdruid Cathbad, the leading clergymon of Alba. If their claims are true…His Highness should still be here in Alba. Rí Trahaern, is this true? Did His Highness visit you? And if he did, would you happen to know where he is?"

    The Furret set forth her terms clearly. She breathed out, trying not to let her nerves get the better of her. Being in the presence of someone as powerful as the rí of Alba wasn't a task for the faint of heart. The sagely Copperajah exuded a regal presence, one Arian and Elvira felt as well. All of them stood in quiet tension as they waited for an answer from Trahaern.

    "...His Holiness is correct. Three years ago, a report came to me that Prince Leonid had come to Breifne, and wished to speak to me. When I met him, he was a sorry sight; his princely cape was in tatters, and rather than the charismatic lionheart a prince should be, he had all the air of a graceless Wimpod."

    "What? H-His Highness was in such a state?" Yuliya murmured, her expression full of worry.

    "He requested from me the aid of my mercenaries," Trahaern continued. "He wanted a strike force to travel with him to Iria and launch an attack upon Silver Armour Mitrofan in the hope of overthrowing him and restoring one of House Ruslan blood to the throne."

    "What did you say to him, Your Majesty?" Elvira asked.

    "I sympathised with the plight of the prince. The loss of one's parents to someone as honoured as Silver Armour Mitrofan, once a shrewd ally of House Ruslan, is a harsh betrayal. And worse still was the denial of aid by the Dresilians and Miletans. To be doubly, no, triply betrayed by those he once considered allies…anyone can sympathise with that. However, one stark problem became apparent to me once we began negotiations."

    "...What would that be, Rí Trahaern?" Yuliya asked, a dark feeling gnawing at her chest.

    "To put it simply, I did not believe Prince Leonid was fit to rule over his country. There were many signs of it. The boy was naive about the nuances of negotiating. He would become quickly irritable if I was hesitant to give him in to one of his demands. What was more, he had the gall to claim the brave warriors of Ceredigonia were the ones to kidnap his fiancée, Lady Svetlana."

    "What?!" Yuliya reeled back in shock. "S-Svetlana was kidnapped?!"

    "Your prince made that claim. Upheld by the fact that there was no sign of her when he was brought before me. By his accounts, she was with him all throughout his visits to the Eastern nations. And yet in transit here, she appears to have spirited away. Or kidnapped, as the prince insisted."

    "N-No…No!" That revelation was a hammer blow to Yuliya, who tried to fight back tears.

    "But he was brazen that I do something about this event out of my hands." Trahaern, unmoved by the Furret's emotion, continued. "He truly believed he had the upper hand in negotiations. We in Alba do not abide such insolence, not without the power to back it up. What's more, a leader requires strength, tact and knowledge to rule, and he had none of those. Thus, we came to an impasse."

    "I guess that explains the three year hold-up," Arian said.

    "I'm not finished." Trahaern interrupted. "That would've been that, but Tánaiste Scáthach was insistent on giving Leonid a chance." He glanced at the Archeops.

    "I did," Scáthach said. "Prince Leonid might not have had the strength, but anyone can become strong if they put their mind to it! That's what I think, anyway. We organised for Leonid to be trained by Chief Fachtna, one of our strongest warriors."

    "That would whip his sorry state into shape," Trahaern said. "If he truly cared for his country, he would endure Fachtna's training and rise above to become a powerful warrior and worthy heir to Selenia and her people. Unfortunately, in the end, he couldn't summon the will to follow through, and in his rage, foolishly challenged Fachtna to a duel. "

    "He couldn't have!" Yuliya was in disbelief. "His Highness would never do something like that!"

    "But he did," Trahaern stolidly countered. "...I don't think I need to tell you the outcome. Safe to say, that duel cost him most of his credibility amongst our allies. I only saw him once after that, and that was to tell me he wanted nothing more to do with me, Scáthach and Fachtna. And so ended our relationship."

    "Wait, really?" Arian was wide-eyed. "That's it? He just walked out on you?"

    "He did. He left this Guild as pathetically as he first entered," Trahaern scorned. " I can't say I miss him at all."

    "But what about Selenia?" Elvira cried. "People in Selenia are living under the rule of a tyrant! Everyone there is suffering! They need their heir! They need Prince Leonid to lead them!"

    "Do they really? I don't believe that," the Copperajah replied coldly. "The Selenian populace need a leader who upholds the values of their country and defends them from anyone who threatens to destroy those values. They need a leader who can negotiate tactically to deal with the nuances of their people, and be strong enough to stand up to resistance from forces within and without.

    "Prince Leonid possessed none of those capabilities. The Selenian people can do far better in finding a worthy tsar for their country. Maybe it's time House Ruslan bade goodbye as a lineage, and a new one can take over Selenia's throne. Look at us here in Alba: we have no need of lineages, and our hero Riagán never bore children. But our system of succession through finding the strongest to take on the reins ensures our nation survives to this day."

    "Right…" Arian was reminded of the conversation about tournaments with Team Scalebreaker on the flight to Breifne. Any attempt to set up a lineage is struck down pretty quickly, huh?

    "...I don't believe that His Highness is weak." Yuliya spoke up again. "He always believed in his country and his people. In an Alban context, perhaps he cannot stand up to them. But weakness in physical strength does not equal weakness in political strength. The conviction lies within His Highness to deliver for his country! I'm sure of it!"

    "We came all this way for Prince Leonid," Elvira went on. "His presence in the fight against Mitrofan could make all the difference in bringing more people to our side."

    Trahaern sighed in annoyance. "...If you want your prince so badly, know this." He flapped his heavy trunk upwards. "I haven't seen him for more than a year and a half. As I said, he wanted nothing more to do with me. I never bothered keeping contact with him. I have no time for his sort."

    "...Well, that's a problem," Arian said. "Where could he have gone?

    "What about the Archdruid?" Elvira suggested. "Would they know? They were the ones that gave His Holiness the intel on Prince Leonid."

    "That's a suggestion," Trahaern murmured. "Scáthach, would Their Grace know of Prince Leonid's whereabouts?" he asked his Tánaiste.

    "Hmm…" Scáthach thought about this. "Probably, yeah. The thing is…Ca's not in town right now. I don't think they are, anyway."

    "You don't think?" Arian pressed. "What do you mean by that?"

    "Don't press the Tánaiste," Trahaern suddenly interrupted. "You're in no position to interrogate her!"

    Arian flinched at the rí's outburst. "I was just asking…" he murmured under his breath.

    "Trahy, it's fine!" a flustered Scáthach urged. "He was just curious! I'm not offended at all!" She turned back to the three Selenians. "Prince Leonid's bound to be out there somewhere. Maybe someone in Breifne knows?"

    "But Breifne's huge!" Arian protested. He recalled seeing the Alban capital from the air, and it could hardly be called small. "How are we gonna find Prince Leonid in that?"

    "You said you wished to find him. Were I you, Riolu, I would advise you get cracking on searching for him." Trahaern fixed him with a steely glare. "True Albans do not dither. They seize the moment and get the job done without complaint. Isn't that right, Team Scalebreaker?" he called to them.

    "You betcha, Chief," Enfys said.

    "Of course, Chief. That's the way we are," Yannick seconded.

    "The words of two of Alba's finest," Trahaern said. "Now then. Enough talking to me! I have no info on your prince's whereabouts. Go out to Breifne's streets tomorrow, where the answer lies." He gestured to the door with his trunk. "You are dismissed. Team Scalebreaker will show you the way towards the guest rooms, where we have accommodation for you. "

    "We sure will, Chief," Yannick said. "Come on, you three. Let's go." He beckoned with his hand, and began to leave the throne room with Enfys. Team Elpis and Yuliya followed after him.





    Arian didn't say anything while the two dragons led the trio to the guest accommodation provided for them. They weaved through a few more hallways, going past dorms for the resident mercs that worked for the Guild. When they arrived in the room they had been allocated, though, he let his thoughts be known.

    "Wh-What was that?!" he blasted.

    "That was our rí," Enfys said. "What, did you think you were going to get help handed to you on a plate?" She scoffed. "Idiot."

    "But did you hear him? He completely left Prince Leonid out in the cold! What leader does that to the heir of a neighbouring country?"

    "Remember what Melchior told us, Arian?" Elvira reminded. "Alba and Selenia aren't necessarily friends. It's a shame that happened, but it wasn't exactly unexpected."

    "...I see we'll have our work cut out for us when it comes to relations," Yuliya murmured. "I wasn't aware Rí Trahaern felt neglected by His Majesty's overtures to the East. I…I apologise. I was unaware of this."

    "Why are you apologising to me?" Yannick asked. "It's not like you're responsible for that. It's your old tsar who's to blame."

    "I don't believe His Majesty ever intended any harm," defended the Furret.

    "Whether he did or not, he's dead," Enfys pointed out. "And now you gotta live with the mess he created."

    "Well…We can repair things, hopefully," Yannick said, with a note of optimism. "Maybe if you find your prince, we can start things over."

    "Pfft. Good luck finding him," the Gabite muttered. "If he's out there. Honestly, I sometimes wonder if you even need the guy."

    "I beg your pardon." Yuliya pursed her lips crossly. "We came all this way for His Highness. I will not entertain talk that we do not 'need' him."

    "Tch. Big question over whether this Leonid has what it takes. By what our Chief was saying, he sounds like he doesn't have it at all," Enfys pointed out. "Would you not just look for someone else at that point?"

    "House Ruslan has ruled over Selenia for five centuries now," Yuliya argued. "If there's one remnant from the lineage alive, we have to find them, no matter who they are!"

    "Hold it, hold it!" Yannick stepped between the Furret and Gabite. "Calm down, both of you. People are sleeping." He put a claw to his lips.

    "My apologies." Yuliya's voice lowered to a whisper.

    "...Whatever," Enfys huffed, not willing to argue back.

    "Let's leave the debates until tomorrow." The Hakamo-o turned to his partner. "Come on, En. Let's hit the hay."

    "Fine," Enfys relented. The two dragons then headed for the door, closing it with a resounding shut, leaving the Selenians alone.

    "We should go to bed as well," Yuliya advised. "It's late, and we should get up early tomorrow to search for His Highness."

    "I understand." Elvira climbed to the top of one of the bunk beds, after placing her bag at the foot of it. "We can't conduct a productive search if we're tired, anyway."

    "Fair enough." Arian clambered into the bunk below Elvira. Before long, the trio fell asleep, exhausted after their travels and deliberations.

    Hopefully tomorrow, they could find leads.





    Next morning...

    *knock knock knock*

    Arian's ears flicked at the sound of what sounded like claws on wood.

    "Mmm…Urgh…" He blearily opened his eyes. "Wh-Who's knocking…?"

    "I'll get it." Luckily, Yuliya was up, and headed for the door. Opening it, she was greeted with the familiar scowl of a Gabite. Behind her stood her partner.

    "Good morning, Enfys." Yuliya frowned, but kept her composure. "Good morning, Yannick. You're both up early."

    "'Course we are," Enfys said. "Tell Team Elpis to get up. We need to train with 'em."

    "Training? I see." The Furret turned back, only to see that the duo were up and at it, if rather sleepily.

    "We're coming," Arian said, wiping sleep from his eye. He and Elvira made their way over to the door. "But why now?"

    "To beat the sun, obviously," snarked Enfys.

    "And not to mention, we're going to be busy ourselves over the next few days," Yannick said. "Now's as good a time as any to get some training in before you get bogged down with negotiations with your prince."

    "If you find him," the Gabite reminded them, still unconvinced.

    "Anyway. Let's go to the training grounds," Yannick said. "There's always a spot open at this time because of how early it is."

    "I'll stay here," Yuliya said. "I need to look at maps of Breifne to get an idea of where His Highness might be."

    "That works. You've already proven your strength to us, Yuliya," the Hakamo-o said. "But we'd like to cultivate the potential of these two just a bit more before we get caught up with stuff ourselves."

    "Understandable. I'll see you at breakfast, then." Yuliya waved at Team Elpis before the door closed.

    The Selenians followed the Hakamo-o and Gabite through the Guild's hallways and outside, where the first rays of sunlight were dawning on the horizon. Like the previous morning, there were a number of Pokémon milling about, with two teams looking at the noticeboard deciding on missions to take.

    The group skewed off the main path, towards the training grounds, where five courts stood and a row of training dummies was lined up on either side of the court. A duo of mercs were training at the far court, but other than that, the place was virtually empty.

    "Okay," Yannick said. "I'd like to train with Arian. Enfys, you train with Elvira."

    "Sure, whatever," Enfys replied.

    "That works." Arian shrugged.

    "Alright then." Yannick moved to the second court, with Arian following him there. Enfys and Elvira went to the first for their own training.

    "Um, if I may?" Elvira asked. "What aspects are we looking to train here?"

    "To see how you've improved and where your faults lay," Yannick said. "We'll help you realise them and hone your skills that little bit more."

    "Alright." Elvira turned her gaze towards Enfys, who gave a huff. "Do we begin?"

    "...I guess," the Gabite grumbled. "Come on then. Let's get to it."

    Enfys then dashed forward, claws at the ready. Elvira saw their glow, and readied herself to dodge, leaping out of the way as Enfys slashed. But the Gabite wasn't deterred, turning around and firing a gout of dragonfire at Elvira.

    "Ouch!" the Treecko cried, feeling the Dragon Breath burn her tail. Quickly, she rolled out of the way, narrowly dodging Enfys' cut with her claws.

    "Stop dodging!" hissed Enfys. "And fight back! You can't just dodge all the time!"

    "S-Sorry!" Elvira apologised.

    "Right, let's start again." Enfys went back to where she started, and Elvira did the same. "Come at me, Elvira."

    "Right." The Treecko took a breath, and steeled herself. Preparing grassy energy in her hands, she ran forward and fired it at Enfys. The dragon didn't move, taking the hit.

    It was a strong hit, enough to make the Gabite flinch. Some of the energy returned to Elvira, as a Giga Drain giving her stamina sucked from Enfys.

    "Not bad," she said. "Your strength's something at least. But come on, let's see how you do with me on your tail." Enfys got into a battle stance. "Let's do this!"

    She ran back into the thick of things. Elvira prepared her Giga Drain again, placing her hands in front of her, not too unlike forming an Energy Ball like some of her evolutionary line did. Once Enfys got closer, she fired it at her. The landshark held up a fin to block the attack, and moved in to attack. But Elvira saw it coming, and sidestepped her opponent's slash.

    Seconds later, the Treecko slammed her tail into Enfys's side, but the Gabite didn't seem fazed by it.

    "The other attack was better," she scoffed, before she backhanded Elvira with her left fin, knocking her away. Grunting, the Treecko stood her ground.

    "That reminds me of something I heard," the dragon went on. "Didn't Fernblade Kallias have some fighting technique where he used two Leaf Blades or something? Couldn't you do something similar?"

    "I don't want to just be a carbon copy of my dad," Elvira insisted. "I want to be my own person as a mercenary."

    "Yeah, but don't fix what isn't broken?" Enfys pointed out, somewhat confused. "You can take from his style and still be your own fighter. The way you're doing those Giga Drain attacks…been wondering if maybe you could combine Leaf Blade with them or something?"

    "I don't know Leaf Blade," Elvira told her. "And I'm never going to at this rate. Not if I don't evolve." She looked away, in an almost ashamed manner.

    "How old are you?" Enfys asked.

    "Eighteen…"

    "The heck?" the Gabite muttered. "That's late. You should have evolved by now, right?"

    "I know!" Elvira cried. "It's my fault. I haven't been training. I haven't been getting stronger like Dad would've wanted. I only have myself to blame for this!" Tears began to drip down her cheeks.

    "H-Hey! Don't cry!" Enfys said. "I didn't say you couldn't evolve! Some 'mons evolve later than others! It doesn't mean you can't!"

    "But I should be evolved! Evolution's the way to get stronger." Elvira balled her fists in frustration. "How can I stand up to Mitrofan if I can't even become a Grovyle?"

    "That wouldn't make a difference even if you were a Sceptile and you know it," the Gabite shot back. "Come on. Self-pity isn't gonna get you evolved. But training will. I doubt you're one of those 'mons that should evolve but can't. You're never gonna get stronger if you think like that."

    "R-Right…" Elvira shakily said, breathing in deeply to calm herself down and will away those demons of thought.

    As she did this, before getting back into the training, her eyes cast down the courts, to her partner, who was sparring with Yannick.

    I wonder how Arian's getting on?





    As it happened, Arian was not getting on well. Rarely had he been able to land the upper hand against his opponent, who looked to have barely broken a sweat. The Riolu had been put through the ringer, if him clutching his bruised chest was anything to go by.

    "How do we awaken that aura?" wondered Yannick, in a brief moment of respite. "You said it came out when your friends were in danger back in Selenia, right? And it appeared again when you were fighting Sorcha. But you say you don't know what it's all about?"

    "No, I don't," Arian said, looking at his paws. "I really wish I did, though. Then I'd know how to actually use it to its full potential." He clenched his paw in annoyance.

    "Could it be a 'thick of battle' thing?" Yannick suggested. "Maybe it's a deep-seated instinct that activates as you get more heated in battle?"

    "Maybe?" Arian shrugged. "I don't know. I wish I knew…!"

    "Let's find out if my theory's true, then." The Hakamo-o cracked his knuckles, before dashing forward with his fists brandished. Arian quickly readied himself for the incoming dragon, holding his own fists in front of him.

    Yannick threw out a right hook, which Arian tried to block. The force nearly knocked him back, but the Riolu held firm, and swung a kick at the dragon's stomach. Alas, the dragon's scales were tough, and the attack did not faze Yannick, who returned his own kick to Arian's midsection.

    "Argh!" Arian cried out. He had no time to process this, though, before Yannick slammed his left fist into his face, knocking him down once again.

    He fought to get back up again, as the Hakamo-o loomed over him.

    "Well, Arian? Do you feel in a corner yet?" he asked.

    "A bit." Arian gulped. Good thing this is only sparring. If this was a real duel, I'd be finished, he thought.

    "Good. That might be the trigger that causes that power to appear. If we push you a bit more, then we might be able to bring it out!" Excitement danced in Yannick's eyes, with all the eagerness of a sparrer. Arian had seen that same thrill in Lex's eyes when they'd duelled back in the Guild.

    "A bit more…" The Riolu was nowhere near as excited as the dragon. But curiosity was keeping him going, over figuring out just what this power was. "Alright, I'll keep going. Just…give me a minute."

    "Fair enough." Yannick backed off slightly. "But let's keep the momentum going, yeah?"

    "Yeah…" Arian took a few breaths, and after a minute, readied himself for another bout. He raised his fists in a fighting stance, Yannick doing the same. Then they ran towards one another again.

    "Come at me, Arian! Give it all you've got!" Yannick yelled at him.

    Arian didn't reply, focusing on his fists. If I could just awaken this power within…! He gazed up at his opponent, and met his outstretched fist as their two punches collided. The Riolu felt his fist shake. Come on, come on! He held firm, hoping for that blue aura to emerge once again.

    "Nope!"

    Sadly, it wasn't to be. Yannick was greater in strength than his trainee, and broke the deadlock. Arian had no time to react before the dragon slammed an uppercut into him, knocking him through the air and onto his back.

    "Urgh…Ow," Arian moaned, as he lay on the ground, staring at the Alban dawn and reeling from the pain.

    "Hmm. Seems we couldn't get it that time." Yannick entered his vision. "Oh well. We'll just try again." He outstretched a hand, which Arian took.

    "Right, now let's…" The Hakamo-o's voice trailed off as he saw something at the entrance. Arian could see it as well.

    A long slender blue serpent with a white belly and wings on its head seemed to be slithering towards them. Yannick's eyes lit up as he called out to her.

    "Sabrina! Hey!"

    "Yannie!" a chipper and dulcet voice called out, as the Dragonair came closer to them. "I missed you!"

    "I know, I know," Yannick said. "Things got a bit busy down in Mumhain."

    "Is it to do with the Selenians in town? I heard something about that," Sabrina asked.

    "Yes. There's three of them that believe their lost prince is here in Alba, and they're trying to find him. In fact—" The Hakamo-o gestured to Arian. "This is one of them. His name's Arian."

    "Arian?" Sabrina's eyes brightened instantly. "Awww, look at him! He's so cute!"

    Cute? Me? "Er…th-thanks," Arian stuttered, unsure of how to take the compliment.

    "He kinda is," Yannick chuckled. "Definitely has potential, too. With the right amount of training, he'll be a force to be reckoned with." He put a hand on Arian's shoulder, the Riolu jumping slightly in surprise at the gesture.

    "Ooh, cute and strong!" Sabrina cooed. "I love people like that. That's why I like you so much, Yannie!" She coiled around Yannick's torso, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He returned his own kiss, and both of them made contented noises.

    "Yannick?" Arian asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Who is this?"

    "Oh, this is Sabrina," Yannick introduced, as the Dragonair in question slithered back to the ground. "She's my girlfriend! We've sorta bonded over the last few months or so, and I like her a lot. She's helped me and Enfys out as an auxiliary sometimes. She's pretty strong too - hell, she tends to hold her own a lot of the time. She doesn't even need a team! That makes you stronger than most, eh, Bri?" He winked coyly at her.

    "Y-Yannie!" Sabrina's coils tightened shyly. "I-I'm not that good…"

    "But you are. Why else would you win me over with your skill? A lot of people, men and women alike, try to woo me, but there are only a few really special ones. And you're one of them."

    "You're so sweet, you big hunk of a mon!" Sabrina coiled around Yannick's right arm and brought her face to his. The two then enjoyed another kiss, this one deeper than before, and definitely enjoyed a lot more by both dragons.

    Arian curled his lip in discomfort. "Get a room, you two," he muttered.

    "Oh, we have." Sabrina broke off from the kiss to speak. "Many times. Haven't we, Yannie?"

    "We have, indeed." Yannick cast a glance at the Riolu, and caught the look in his eyes. "Though maybe let's continue this somewhere else."

    "But what about my training?" Arian asked.

    "Yeah…sorry about that, Arian," the Hakamo-o apologised. "But there are other things that need doing, anyway. En and I have got missions, and you have a prince to find. Besides, I think En and Elvira are done anyway." Looking over at the two, he saw the Gabite and Treecko making their way over.

    "Hey, you two," he greeted, once they arrived. "How's the training?"

    "It went okay. But no sparks flew or anything," Enfys reported. "You didn't get anything either?"

    "Well, we got a few rounds of punches in. He's better than he was down at the border," Yannick said. "Keep at it, Arian, and you'll do well."

    "Thanks, Yannick," Arian said, grateful for that small bit of reassurance.

    "Now then. You know the routine," Yannick declared proudly. "Any training session should immediately be followed by a big meal!" As if to emphasise his point, his stomach growled hungrily.

    "I swear you're just training as an excuse to get food afterwards," Enfys dryly remarked.

    "Hey, it's what you're meant to do!" defended Yannick. "Our greatest warriors follow that routine. It builds your body up too. How else do you think I got guns like these?" He flexed his arm muscles, biceps bulging.

    "So muscular…" Sabrina was in awe. "You're a dream, Yannie."

    "Tch," Enfys huffed in annoyance. "Simp."

    "Oh, look. Little Miss Grumpy Fins getting jealous over her partneragain," Sabrina said. "You're not very good at hiding it, Ennie. We should call you 'Envys' instead!" She giggled at that, and even Yannick fought hard to contain his laughter.

    "What, jealous of you getting him?" Enfys cast an eye towards her partner. "I've been his partner for years. You don't know him like I do, and you never will." There seemed to be a gruffer edge to her voice, almost in a defensive manner.

    "Aw, come on." Sabrina suddenly sounded hurt. "There's always room for someone else in Team Scalebreaker, isn't there?"

    "Three's a crowd," snarled Enfys.

    "Plenty of teams are made of threes!"

    "Yann and I work as a duo! That's how it's always been, and you're not changing that with a few flirty words!"

    "It's not a few flirty words! You've seen me in action, and Yannie knows how capable I am!"

    "Alright, enough, you two!" Yannick stepped between them. "I don't want to eat breakfast with you two girls throwing insults at each other. You've ruined plenty of good meals with that attitude already. Can't we just be friends?"

    "No," Enfys said, before turning to Sabrina. "There's something fishy about you. I'll eat my scarf if it turns out you're clean."

    "Hope you like rawst fabric, then," Sabrina quipped. "Oh, and by the way. I'm a dragon. I'm not fishy at all!" She stuck her tongue out at the Gabite.

    "Grrragh!" Enfys hissed, fangs bared. "Fuck you, you slimy little jump rope!"

    "En, enough!" Yannick cried. "Please…no more. You're making us look bad in front of Team Elpis. Give it a rest. Please?"

    "...Fine." Oddly, Enfys' reply sounded almost resigned.

    "Now come on." The Hakamo-o beckoned to everyone. "Let's go fill our bellies."

    They all trotted, or slithered in Sabrina's case, towards the Guild's canteen. The argument had soured the mood somewhat, but the mood wasn't all that great among two of them to begin with.

    Neither Elvira nor Arian really felt they had progressed far in training. For both of them, and Arian in particular, it felt like they were on the verge of grasping their potential, but it remained out of reach. Both were disappointed that they still felt powerless.

    But to Arian, what became more prevalent was the hurt that rolled off Enfys in waves. Arian could sense it, and he found himself considering the events that took place.

    She sounded so defensive over it all. Sabrina wanted to join Team Scalebreaker, Enfys said no, they had a fight, Yannick told her to back off, and she listened? But why does she feel so defensive over it? She wasn't like that on the way up.

    Then again…we didn't have a third wheel in the mix.


    His gaze turned to Sabrina. The Dragonair, contrary to her Gabite adversary, didn't seem peeved or angered at all. Rather, she was slithering along the path with content as she shared loving glances with Yannick. At one point, she leaned in for another quick kiss, and the Hakamo-o gave her one.

    She seemed happy. Too happy. Arian's brow furrowed as he continued to observe Sabrina,and one thought stuck in his mind as the group travelled to the canteen.

    There might be more to her than meets the eye…





    Notes

    Ceredigonia is named after Ceredigion, a county in Wales.
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter 27 - Breifne, City of Warriors
  • Arukona

    A Scribe Penning His Brainworms
    Location
    Ardalion
    Pronouns
    He/him
    Partners
    1. aggron
    2. sceptile
    Chapter 27
    Breifne, City of Warriors

    Arian felt uncomfortable at the breakfast that followed the training session. He just wanted to eat his payapa soup coupled with sliced pinap in peace, but the frostiness radiating from Enfys towards Sabrina couldn't simply be tuned out. Given that the Gabite sat next to him instead of sitting with her partner and the Dragonair sat on the opposite side of the table, he couldn't ignore it.

    He tried his best though, and kept his head down as the tension smothered the breakfast atmosphere. At least now that the sun was more up, more mercenaries filled the dining hall, and he could focus on them instead of the quiet tension at his table. It was icy enough that he almost swore winter had visited their table in the canteen.

    Arian felt a similar form of discomfort from his allies, and judging by the mildly annoyed expression on Yannick's face as he wolfed down his breakfast, the Hakamo-o was feeling the same. The only anomaly was Sabrina, who didn't seem to share the same discomfort with the rest of the group. She daintily ate her breakfast, seemingly unaware of the quiet tension around the table.

    Near the end of the meal, Arian tried to break the silence.

    "So, uh," he piped up. "What's your plan for today, you three?"

    "Yann and I have a mission in Laighean," Enfys said. "The Chief there hired us personally to sort out some bandit problems."

    "Bandits?" That doesn't sound good.

    "Yeah, bandits. Ceredigonia likes to launch raids on the border tíortha, and Laighean's one of them," Yannick explained. "They're a general thorn in our side, those Cereds, and Laighean's chief wants us to kick them back over the border."

    "Tch. Fuck 'em," hissed Enfys. "Just Dressies dressed up in Alban clothing. That's all those ceatharnaigh are."

    "Mmm," Yannick murmured, after which he tipped his bowl back and downed the last of his payapa soup.

    "Ahhh," he sighed, licking his lips. "Well, I'll go bring these up to Tiarnán." He gathered up everyone's plates and strolled up to the counter.

    "I suppose I'll go now. I've got my own mission to do while you two have fun in Laighean without me," Sabrina said sweetly. "Toodle pip!" She slithered towards the door, but not before sticking her tongue out teasingly at Enfys on the way out.

    "That slimy little…!" Enfys bared her teeth in annoyance.

    "You don't seem to like her very much," Yuliya noted.

    "Of course I don't! A complete snake, she is, coming in here and seducing Yannick like that!" she snarled. "Then there's all those 'missions' she does on her own that are vague as shit! She's up to something - I'd bet my Platinum Rank on it!"

    "What's the matter, Enfys? Raging about one of Yannick's girlfriends again?" teased a nearby Archen.

    "Jawbreaker Enfys, jealous of her partner? Just another normal day, then," remarked his teammate, an Anorith.

    "Hey, Enfys! Maybe think about going poly with Yannick one of these days!" the third in the group, a Tyrunt, quipped.

    "Fuck no!" the Gabite roared. "I'm not getting in bed with that bitch!"

    "En!" Yannick interrupted, returning to the group after he'd handed the plates off to Cairbre and Tiarnán. "Don't call Sabrina names like that!"

    "But, Yann!" Enfys cried, and once again, Arian felt that same sense of hurt within the landshark. "Sabrina, she's—"

    "An ally who's helped us out many times since she became a merc here. Don't be mean to someone like that." The Hakamo-o's gaze hardened. "Is that clear, En?"

    "...Crystal," mumbled Enfys.

    "Good. And you all!" Yannick then suddenly reeled on the three Rock-types that had teased his partner. "Don't you dare act like that to En. Otherwise you'll have to deal with me too!" He punched his fists together, his scales jangling. "Want to take this outside?"

    The three Rock-types looked at each other and gulped at the fiery look in Yannick's eyes. The fear in their hearts was plain to see, and they slunk out of the room without any fight.

    "...Sabrina's not coming with us on this mission, anyway," Yannick continued. "Good thing too. The less I have to hear you two bickering, the better. Besides, don't you remember what I told you, En? Team Scalebreaker will always just be you and me. There won't be a third. Sabrina's nice and all, but she won't come into the fold. I swear it."

    "You've said that before." Enfys's voice sounded doubtful.

    "And I'll always say it. Now come on." Yannick beckoned with his hand as he walked towards the door. "Chief Darach won't like being kept waiting."

    "...Fine," Enfys huffed, before following her partner.

    "Oh, and you three!" Yannick called to the Selenians. "Good luck on your search today! Hopefully you'll be able to find your prince!" With those parting words, he and his partner left the canteen.

    "So…what's the plan of action?" Arian asked, turning to Yuliya. "Did you figure out a plan while we were training?"

    "The plan is to find His Highness," Yuliya said. "I believe the best way to do this is by splitting into two groups. I will investigate the eastern side of Breifne for intel, while the two of you investigate the west side."

    "We have to search all of Breifne for Prince Leonid?" Arian said, his ears flattening in dismay. The thought of combing Alba's largest city for a tiny sliver of intel was considerably daunting in his eyes. "Is he even in Breifne right now?"

    "...I do not know. But we won't know unless we find that information for ourselves," Yuliya replied. "I hope that Breifne's cathedral holds answers. Even if Archdruid Cathbad is not there, their fellow druids may have information."

    "It doesn't seem like info's gonna come easily," Arian grumbled.

    "It rarely does. This hunt may well yield nothing. But the possibility of information remains. And possibilities are all we have. We must find His Highness." A determined look crossed Yuliya's face. "We must."

    The determined look spread to Arian and Elvira, who nodded with similar determination.

    "I'll go to Breifne Cathedral. With luck, Their Grace will be there. Failing that, I will scout out the eastern bank of Breifne for intel about His Highness," Yuliya detailed. "You two will check out the western half of the city."

    "That makes sense," Elvira said. "We'll do that."

    "Excellent. You are a great help, you two." Yuliya bowed gratefully to them, and the three of them began to walk out of the canteen and the Guild building, into the courtyard, and to the branching path at the Guild entrance, before the two great bridges crossing the Istwyth.

    "I wish you luck in your investigation. Now…let us go forth. Let us find our heir." That was the last thing Yuliya said to them before she headed off towards Breifne's prosperous eastern half.

    "Come on, Arian," Elvira said. "Let's get going with our search. Maybe someone on the western side of Breifne's seen Prince Leonid."

    "...I guess." Oddly, Arian's remark seemed almost begrudging.

    "Hm? Is something the matter, Arian?" The Treecko frowned in concern at her partner. "You seem a bit put out."

    "...It's nothing. Probably just the heat," he mumbled irritably. "Come on, let's go. Sitting around here won't accomplish anything."

    "O-Okay…" Elvira murmured, slightly stunned by the sudden volte-face in her partner's behaviour. Why's he so grumpy all of a sudden? She followed after him, concern crossing her face.

    Something's off about him. What could it be?


    Yuliya traversed the bridge to the eastern half of Breifne, on her way to the cathedral, herer eyes and ears fully alert as she began her search, her knight instincts coming back to her. Any stray information along the way can be a clue. In a city like this, someone's bound to know of His Highness's whereabouts. It's a long shot, but…it's for Selenia, and the legacy of House Ruslan.

    The Furret attempted to use these skills as she made her way to the cathedral, able to spot its tall spire towering over the rest of the city. To get there, though, that meant traversing through a wide promenade packed with passersby and merchants alike; no doubt the primary street of Breifne. The clamour of voices did make Yuliya's attempts to hear intel all the more difficult, and some of those voices, like merchants giving sales pitches, were especially loud.

    "Get all your fresh berries here! Buy 'em now, folks, 'cause they ain't gonna last forever!"

    "Seeds for all your merc needs! Use them and get the upper hand against your foes!"

    "Yer no' gonna say nae to a bit o' prize fightin'! You think you can take me?!"

    Yuliya flinched at the loud hustle and bustle. She wasn't unfamiliar to this from her time as a marshal in Iria, but the Alban merchants were far more rambunctious than Selenian merchants ever were, and she found the din uncomfortable, to say the least. Even so, she kept her head high and looked around her at the sea of people, hoping there was an answer to be had amongst them.

    This did, however, mean that her attention was unfocused, and thus she did not see what was ahead of her. Before she realised it, Yuliya collided with something small, light and hard.

    "Oof!" a voice cried.

    "Argh! Watch where you're going!" came another voice.

    "My apologies!" Yuliya quickly said, looking at who she'd run into. She blinked in surprise at the two Falinks before her.

    "Forgive me," she began. "I was careless."

    "I-It's fine," one of the Falinks replied, rather meekly. "We should've been watching too."

    "Hmph. Let's just get what we need, N," the other Falink muttered. "Master Dubhrua doesn't like being kept waiting."

    "Understood. Sorry for disturbing you." With that, Yuliya parted ways from them, and made her way back towards the cathedral.

    That was odd, she thought, reflecting on the encounter. …No matter. On we head.. Filing the encounter in the back of her mind, Yuliya continued onward towards the cathedral.

    Thankfully, the path to Breifne Cathedral was fairly direct, and the Furret arrived there without incident or getting too lost. The cathedral's front contained a vast courtyard, with the boughs of olive trees providing much needed shade from Alba's blazing sun. Two Gligar statues stood at the courtyard entrance, and the brickwork was well-polished. Alas, even the impressive nature of Breifne Cathedral's entrance could not hide signs of Alba's drought taking its toll. Both the grass and the trees looked greatly parched, begging for rain to fall and relieve them of their thirsty misery.

    There was also one stark detail that stuck out to Yuliya as she entered the courtyard, far greater than any of the dry wilt of the trees and ground.

    Multiple tents were set up, and haggard-looking Pokémon milled around the courtyard. Yuliya counted at least fifteen Pokémon of all different ages, from infants to elderly. Whatever their age, nearly all of them had one thing in common: a harrowed look in their eyes. Between the dry, drooping trees and the haunted gazes of the Pokémon, melancholy permeated the dusty air.

    Something happened to these people. Something traumatic. Yuliya could feel it in their gazes. But what? I wonder if the archdruid has an answer for this…

    The Furret walked into the cathedral, the building's airiness a blessed relief from the blazing sun. Several more Pokémon with harrowed looks like those in the courtyard were inside, some of them kneeling in the pews and praying. Yuliya gave them pitying glances, but remembered her mission.

    She walked up to the altar, where a few priests, recognisable with their white capes, were setting things up for a rite that was to be underway soon. Leading them was a Sigilyph, who upon seeing Yuliya, seemed to ready himself for something.

    "Hello," the Furret began. "I am looking to speak with Their Grace Archdruid Cathbad. Are they around today?"

    "Sadly not." The Sigilyph shook his head. "Their Grace has been absent from here for a few days."

    "Oh." The Furret's face fell. "It's just that there's something I need to talk to them about."

    "Hmm, where are you from, ma'am? You don't sound Albach at all."

    "Oh no." She shook her head. "I'm from Selenia."

    "Selenia?" The psychic blinked in surprise. "I've heard some grim tales from that direction."

    "Those tales aren't lies." Memories of the oppression she'd seen under Mitrofan's rule came to her, and Yuliya clenched a paw, trying to keep her anger under wraps. "In fact, it's part of the reason I'm here in Alba. We may have found a breakthrough to bringing Mitrofan down, and Their Grace may know more on this matter. That is why I would like to speak with them."

    "...I see. Unfortunately, Their Grace has priorities elsewhere." The Sigilyph bowed his head in sorrow. "I sincerely apologise."

    "...It's alright." Yuliya tried hard to hide her disappointment. "I'll find my answers somewhere else."

    "That said," the Sigilyph went on. "Their Grace did entrust an item to me. They instructed me to give it to a Furret who set foot into Breifne Cathedral."

    "Hm? But…that can't surely mean me, can it?" Yuliya questioned. "How would Their Grace know I would come?"

    "Their Grace works in mysterious ways," the Sigilyph vaguely responded. "But they wished for you to have this." His eye glowed, and a scroll was levitated towards Yuliya, who grabbed it.

    "Hm? What's this?" She unfurled it and read the text.

    Stánann an cosantóir síocháin siar go dtí a baile ar an Oileán Naofa.

    The harmony keeper gazes west to her home on Oileán Naofa.

    "I…do not understand." Yuliya peered at the document, puzzled at the message. "Why does Their Grace wish for me to have this?"

    "I do not know. But as with all actions, there is a reason for them. That is a truth Their Grace is intimately aware of," the Sigilyph said.

    "I see." Yuliya looked again at the scroll. The words made no more sense to her. "I suppose I'll have to figure this out." She tucked it away in her satchel. "Thank you for this. Hopefully the answer lies within."

    "I wish you luck in figuring it out." The Sigilyph bowed respectfully to her. "May our Creator's judgement guide your path."

    Yuliya left the cathedral, passing the Pokémon and making her way back onto Breifne's streets. The mystery of the scroll's message ran through her mind, and she was racking her brains as to what exactly it could mean.

    But there was the other matter that weighed on her mind; those Pokémon she saw in the courtyard at the cathedral's front entrance. The haunted looks on their faces told a story of woe and trauma; the ex-marshal was certain about that. But she realised she was none the wiser on finding out their plight.

    Just what did they go through, those poor souls?





    "Well, then. Where do we begin?"

    That was Arian's remark once they'd crossed the bridge into the west end of Breifne. Right away, one feeling struck them as they looked upon the architecture. The wide street that lay before them was cracked in a number of places, and a number of houses on either side of the street were boarded up and abandoned. The whole place felt a tad shabby, like everything could be spruced up with new paint and decorations.

    "I hope we don't get robbed." Elvira held onto her satchel a bit tighter. "That wouldn't end well."

    "No, it wouldn't." Arian scanned the street. It was busy, and quite the throng of Pokémon packed the streets. But even so, he could see a familiar sight: a Kecleon Shop, and a queue lined up to buy items from the chameleon merchants.

    "Let's start there," he suggested.

    "Good idea," Elvira seconded. "We could use a restock on items, anyway."

    After a tedious wait in line under the hot sun, Team Elpis blessing their rawst scarves for lessening heat stress for them, they finally arrived to the front line where a green and violet Kecleon pair greeted them.

    "Hello there!" greeted the green Kecleon, in an all too familiar voice to Arian.

    "What would you like to buy?" the purple Kecleon asked, in another awfully familiar voice to the Riolu.

    Is this déjà-vu? How the heck…

    "Two blast seeds, one stun seeds, and two oran berries, please," Elvira requested. "Oh, and there's something else we need to ask you."

    "Sure!" the purple Kecleon obliged, and turned to fetch the merchandise.

    "What do you want to know?" the green Kecleon wondered.

    "Well, uh…Before that," Arian butted in. "Sorry, Elvira, but I have to know this." He fixed his expression on the two Kecleon. "Would you two happen to know a pair of Kecleon just like you called Jacob and Esau?"

    "Indeed we do!" said the violet Kecleon. "Those are our names, after all." As he spoke, he gave the items to Elvira, who handed him a number of coins in return.

    "Wait, what?" Arian was astounded. "But how? When did you travel up here to Breifne from Kamengrad?"

    "Kamengrad?" the green Kecleon puzzled. "Never heard of that place. We've always ran this stall here in town. Never sold stuff anywhere else."

    "B-But…" Arian stuttered in disbelief. "There's literally a pair of Kecleon in Kamengrad exactly like you two! They even have the same tone of voice and all!"

    "Oh, I know what's happened here," 'Esau' said. "You must've met two of our cousins."

    "Cousins?" The Riolu tilted his head.

    "Yes, we have cousins all over Ardalion," 'Jacob' replied. "You'll find Kecleon twins like us in most towns on the continent. We're all related in some way."

    "W-Wow, really? Jeez." Arian was stunned. "Your family gatherings must be hectic."

    "True, but aren't everyone's?" Esau sang.

    "...Point taken." The Riolu then caught Elvira's eye, and she cleared her throat.

    "I have a question for you two," she began. "Have you come across a Bisharp at any point in the last while? And by that, I mean the last year or so?"

    "A Bisharp in the last year?" Jacob looked at Esau, and both lizards pondered deeply.

    "...Can't say I remember a Bisharp ever coming here to buy our wares," Esau eventually answered.

    "Are you sure?" Arian pressed. "No Bisharp at all's been here?"

    "No." Jacob shook his head. "We haven't had a Bisharp ever come to us for anything."

    "We know all of our customers!" Esau added. "Even the one-time shoppers! But we haven't had even one Bisharp as a customer."

    "Sorry about that," Jacob apologised.

    "...It's fine," Elvira murmured, although her expression betrayed her dismay. "Come on, Arian. Let's go. Maybe we'll find something elsewhere."

    "Yeah. Thanks anyway," Arian said to the merchant duo.

    "Anytime!" the Kecleon proclaimed in unison, as Team Elpis walked away from the stall.

    "Well, that was a bust. Pretty weird too," Arian muttered.

    "I see you've become acquainted to the Kecleon merchants' oddities," Elvira said. "They are a strange group, alright. But their service is a lifeline to villages and towns across the continent. That's one thing most people in Ardalion can agree upon." She looked down wistfully. "One of the few things they can agree on…"

    "Come on, Elvira. Let's see if anyone else along here has any info." Arian gestured to the many merchants along the street. "How about we start there, and work our way down?"

    And so they began their hunt for intel. Unfortunately, the other merchants' responses were much like Jacob and Esau's.

    "Nope, can't say a Bisharp's ever come to me in the last while."

    "Hm. Maybe? Cannae remember. Old age - ye ken how it is."

    "I've met some Bisharp in my time, but I don't remember one coming to my stall in the last year or so."

    Some merchants even tried to use the exchange to barter with the duo.

    "Will you buy a necklace? One made by Sionann's Crafts, and good enough that the Tánaiste herself's come by a few times!"

    "How about some rocks hewed from the mines of Dun Ringill? They say there's diamonds in them. Who knows? Today might be your lucky day!"

    "Wine from Laighean's vineyards? They use this same stuff in libations to our Creator!"

    It was relentless, and once or twice Arian and Elvira caved. By the time they reached the end of the street, their funds had dwindled, they had a number of useless souvenirs, and they were still no closer to finding the whereabouts of Prince Leonid.

    "Well, that's annoying," huffed Arian. At least most of them fit into Elvira's bag. "What the hell are we gonna do with all this junk?"

    "We could mail them back to Mom. She always likes souvenirs," suggested Elvira. "We'll need to pop by the Tropius Carriers, or Alba's equivalent of them. There was one earlier, by the river."

    "Guess we'll go there, then. Maybe they'll have something for us."

    They began the stroll back up. Much to Arian's annoyance, despite it being later in the afternoon, there were still many Pokémon crowding the streets, and being smaller 'mons meant he and Elvira had to dodge around the feet of larger passersby, which caused some consternation among them. Brushing against legs inevitably occurred, with apologies from Team Elpis and mutterings about 'ankle-biting pataich' from those who they brushed against.

    If only I was taller, Arian inwardly bemoaned. Then I wouldn't have to deal with this. He let out a growl of annoyance.

    "Arian? Are you alright?" Elvira asked worriedly.

    "...Yes. I'm fine." The gritted teeth response sounded anything but 'fine'.

    "...If you say so," the Treecko murmured, her worry not abating one bit.

    "Right. Let's - oof!"

    Arian was too lost in his own thoughts to pay attention to his surroundings, and he ended up bumping into a passing Conkeldurr, the impact of which knocked the Riolu onto his back.

    "Oi! Watch where you're walkin'!" blasted the Conkeldurr. "Weans like ye should keep to the side!"

    "Sorry!" he apologised to his fellow Fighting-type. But the other Pokémon was already on their way, ignoring Arian and leaving him be.

    "Ungrateful bastard," he growled, as he got up and dusted himself off.

    "Arian, is something the matter?" Elvira brought up. "You've been acting strange ever since we started this search."

    The Riolu didn't respond. Instead, his focus had shifted to somewhere else. He happened to cast his gaze to the other side of the street, to one of the many alleyways that lined the street. They existed almost like gaps in teeth, where the sun did not shine and darkness made its home.

    In that darkness, Arian saw it.

    He saw a cloaked figure. A familiar one.

    "Hey! Elvira!" he called.

    "Ah!" The Treecko jumped. "Don't scare me like that, Arian."

    "But there's someone there!" Arian pointed towards the alley.

    "...Arian, what are you talking about? There's no one there. I don't see anyone."

    "What?" The Riolu looked back at the alley. To his shock, the figure was gone.

    "Grraagh!" That shock was then immediately replaced by annoyance. "Dammit! I'm not lying! I saw someone there!"

    "A-Arian, please, calm down," Elvira urged. "You're getting worked up over nothing."

    "It's not nothing, Elvira. Someone's been watching us, and I'm going to get to the bottom of this!" The Riolu's declaration was heard loud and clear by a number of others on the street. "Now where'd they go?" Arian scanned the area, and growled in annoyance at the passersby obscuring his view.

    "I swear to God, if they got away again…!" The Riolu looked at all the back alleys on the other side of the street. They have to be somewhere! Now where—

    He caught a flash of movement from the corner of his eye. A cloaked quadrupedal - the same one he'd seen.

    "There they are!" Arian wasted no time, and took off after them. He pushed through the crowds, and accidentally toppled some people, leading to an angry chorus of voices.

    "Oi! Look at where you're going, mutt!"

    "You nearly tripped me, you eejit!"

    "Little blighter! Wait your turn to cross!"

    "Wait, Arian, wait!"

    Arian paid no attention to any of them, not even his own partner. Right now, only two things were on his mind; chasing that figure down, and finding out the truth behind them. He fought to close the gap, and once he rounded the street corner, he saw the cloaked figure was there for a split second, right before they disappeared down an alleyway.

    "You're not getting away!" Arian yelled, continuing to give chase. He went down the same path they took, and a new alley presented itself. This was a smaller street, but looked a lot more ramshackled, with crumbling walls and dirty streets. A poor district, for sure.

    Arian didn't focus on that particular right now, intent on chasing down the figure. After running down the street, he spotted that same figure again, before they disappeared down another alley.

    All the while, he yelled in frustration at them.

    "Who are you?!"

    "Why are you stalking me?"

    "Wait! Please, wait!"

    His cries went in vain, and his yelling caught the attention of those that lived in these rundown houses. Heads turned at the figure and the Riolu running through the streets, and children playing in the alleys dodged out of their way. Inhabitants grumbled at the disturbance, and cries of "Oi, shut up!" were yelled at Arian as he ran past. He paid them no mind, intent on chasing the figure down.

    But they proved too evasive and, after what felt like an eternity of running, Arian had to slow down and take a breather. He had heard his species had quite high levels of stamina, but even that wasn't unlimited, as he was learning the hard way.

    "Hah…hah…hah…" the Riolu panted. He was thirsty now, and was craving some refreshing water. However, one look at the dilapidated fountain ahead of him, dried up and cracked, told him that water was hardly plentiful here.

    Dammit. I'm parched…I guess Isaac was right about the whole 'conserving water' thing. Arian panted, resting for a moment. He recalled Yannick's remark back in Mumhain of his panting habit, or lack thereof. Panting like a dog…will that help? He did just that, panting away in an attempt to entice coolness onto himself.

    Hmm. Maybe I need to do more of it. Meanwhile, that person! He got ready to chase again. Alas, the cloaked figure had widened the gap between them, and in this slum labyrinth, they would be hard to find.

    Still, I have to figure this out. Maybe that way? He began to walk down the path directly ahead of him, one of the streets that led away from the dried-up fountain.

    It was odd. The times he'd been in a Mystery Dungeon with their diverging paths, he never tended to be fully sure about where to go. But this time, there was an odd compulsion to go down that way. Arian wasn't sure what this meant, but he took it as an omen and moved down the street.

    He wasn't going as quickly this time, and so he had more time to take in his surroundings. Sadly, they didn't look to be in good shape at all. Corrugated iron roofs, along with cracked brickwork and missing bricks putting holes in houses, were just some of the sights of dilapidation. Broken glass on the ground was also a danger, although Arian made sure to take care to step around it whenever that happened.

    Arian continued through the maze of streets, following his gut telling him which way to go. The narrow streets past rows of ramshackle houses continued, until eventually, it opened out slightly towards another square with a dried-up fountain.

    However, that wasn't what drew Arian's attention. It was what lay in that square.

    There was a house that looked surprisingly well-kept, standing out from the rest of the houses in the district. The other houses were a sorry sight, with chipped, faded paint and boarded-up windows, while this one house looked well-maintained with a fresher coat of green paint. It was a strange sight, to see such upkeep amid haphazardness.

    To add to the strangeness, the door was open. It seemed to beckon Arian in, and the Riolu was very tempted. Before he realised it, he was walking towards the door.

    Wait, what am I doing? He stopped suddenly before the door. This is walking into someone's house. That cloaked person, whoever they were…they're hardly in here, are they?

    He caught a glimpse inside the house. It was dark inside, with little light shining in. Apprehension churned inside him.

    Then a voice spoke.

    "Please enter."

    "Ah!" Arian jumped. "Wh-Who's there?!"

    "One who has watched over your journey through this land. I have been waiting for you. Come in, and glimpse at your fate."

    Words like that only piqued Arian's curiosity further, and before he knew it, he had stepped foot inside the house. Once inside, he peered around the house's stone interior. It looked to be as well-kept inside as it was outside; there was little to no excess dirt, and the house was tidy. One thing noted by him was the lack of a window, oddly enough.

    There was, however, a light source in the open room. That source was being provided by a glowing orb on a table at the far end of the room.

    Behind that table…the cloaked figure stood. Now that he was close up, Arian could see them a bit better. They were definitely quadrupedal, and he could see two details about them that were previously hidden. A blade-like scythe protruded from their head, and their snout was canine-like.

    "You!" Arian pointed to them. "You're—"

    Before he could protest, however, the figure spoke.

    "Come to me, Riolu."

    Their voice was calm and soft. Arian felt the voice sounded a tad feminine, although he wasn't too sure. There was a strange feeling in the air, compelling him to go over to them.

    "Why should I trust you?" However, the Riolu was apprehensive. "Were you down in Mumhain when we first arrived? Have you been stalking me all this time? Why are you—"

    "I am sure you have many questions," the figure deftly interrupted. "But please, take a seat."

    "..." Arian was still unsure, and his unease was clear by his tentative steps towards the table.

    "Your reluctance is understandable." The figure seemed to recognise this. "Perhaps your unease would be shed if you saw my face."

    They raised their head, letting the cowl fall behind them. Arian could then see their face for the first time, beyond the little bit that the cloak didn't entirely conceal.

    An Absol with blood red eyes stared back at him. Their eyes seemed to give off infinite wisdom, as though they were older than they were. But somehow Arian didn't get vibes of an elderly wise sage from them, at least not through appearance. They seemed wise, and yet young. Around their neck, he noticed a necklace bearing Arceus' cross-wheel, at the centre of which was a green gem. Another gem of the same colour was wrapped around the lower part of their scythe. On the upper part, Arian squinted at what looked to be…gold plating?

    "So you've been waiting for me?" Arian said. "…Do you even know who I am?"

    "I know who you are, Arian."

    Arian's breath hitched. "B-But how? How do you know my name?"

    "He who toppled Hinnerk of Ozerograd alongside Fernblade Kallias's daughter. He who has made a name for himself as a dogged resistor to Silver Armour Mitrofan," the Absol listed. "Fate's rumour mill weaves interesting tales, and on its winds, words are carried and spread to the ears of hopeful listeners. Alba is no different; this nation and its people are not ignorant to events outside their borders."

    "Really? Enfys and Yannick didn't seem to know much," muttered Arian.

    "You are a most curious individual, Arian. I would like to know how Fate intends to weave the path laid out in front of you. My abilities as an Absol and a fortune teller allow me to glimpse into one's future and glean truths from it."

    "Oh, yeah?" The Riolu was somewhat distracted by the Absol's presence that he almost forgot about the table before him. On it rested a glowing orb, the source other than the sun from outside lighting up the room. "So you're a fortune teller?"

    "That is correct. I read the fortunes of those who come to me and determine how Fate shall treat them. Are you destined to succeed? Or shall Victini's gift of luck pass you by? Let us see that here and now."

    "...Sure, I guess. Do I have to pay?"

    "I would normally request payment. But you are a figure of such interest that I will lift the fee this one time."

    "Really? Me, interesting?" Yannick said the same thing too. But I'm not that special, am I? "Well, uh…sure. Lay it on me. What does the future hold?"

    "Place your paws on my horn, and we can determine that." The Absol lowered their horn, and Arian did as they said. He could feel an energy of sorts within the appendage - a pulse of some kind, although he couldn't put his metaphorical paw on what exactly this meant. What did those books say about Absol again? Something about detecting danger?

    Arian tried to gauge the fortune teller's emotions as he gripped their horn. However, he found this surprisingly difficult. The Absol seemingly did not exude emotion, and when he tried to reach further, it felt like he was being mentally resisted. The hell? Why can't I read their emotions? The Riolu tried again, but was swiftly interrupted by the fortune teller's voice.

    "Please do not do that," they said. "I cannot give an accurate prediction if you try to read my aura."

    "Oh. Sorry," apologised Arian, and ceased his efforts, awaiting his fortune from the Absol with a hint of guilt.

    A minute passed before they spoke again.

    "You may take your paws away. I have a clearer picture of your future."

    Arian did as instructed.

    "So," he said, breaking the silence. "What did you find out?"

    The Absol said nothing at first. The silence struck a twinge of nervosity within Arian, and he felt his heart sink. This is about my future, isn't it? Oh no…if they're keeping silent, then that can't be good, can it?

    After what felt like an eternity, they uttered their response.

    "Our world is defined by the everlasting cycle of Fate. Through times of peace and times of strife, its revolution will never cease, not unless the Creator Himself sees fit to interrupt its flow. We are all subject to its whims, and its cyclical nature ensures that for many, fortune and misfortune are dealt in equal measure. Many try to go against the grain, believing Fate has betrayed them."

    The Absol shook their head. "This is an unwise course of action. Many try, but few succeed in defying her whims. There is a saying in the wider conscience that amounts to this - 'go with the flow.' And so it should be: to swim along the flow that is Fate's current, rather than battle against it.

    "Many would do well to learn that the cycle of Fate is named as such for its cyclical nature, of visitation of events both blessed and cursed. If despair is upon you, fear not, for it shall pass. However, if hope is upon you, remember that such moments can be fleeting, and you should cherish those moments while they last."

    Arian felt the intense stare from the fortune teller. Geez. Those eyes are gonna pierce a hole through me at this rate.

    "That said," the Absol continued, their stare's intensity lessening. "A few individuals over the course of Ardalion's history have succeeded where others would have failed and perished. They normally do so at a time of regress; when the health of our continent is at its weakest, whether blight has marred its soil, wars ravage the land, or strife soaks its grass red with blood. At a time like the present, when drought afflicts Ardalion's western countries, and calamitous rain is in store, one would expect such a hero to emerge.

    "However, heroes do not 'suddenly' appear one day to change Fate. In every instance of those who defied Fate, they were forged by the chaos of the world around them. They saw the state of the world and those that threatened Ardalion's existence and challenged their enemies before them. They dared damnation and came out victorious."

    "Are you talking about the Five Heroes?" Arian wondered, thinking back to the book he read in Teamhair.

    "Them, and more. But they are irrelevant. This session is about you, Arian. You, a most unusual figure who has begun to make a name for himself in both Selenia and Alba. An enigma. A mysterious Riolu with an odd power. A stranger in a foreign land…in more ways than one."

    The Absol's next remark sent a chill down Arian's spine.

    "My instincts do not lie, Arian. You are a human, aren't you?"

    "Wh-What?!" Arian nearly jumped out of his skin. "H-H-How do you know I'm a human?" Panic flooded his mind at this stranger knowing that truth.

    "Your psyche is unlike that which I have seen of others," the Absol observed. "It is a curious mutation that I can only describe as…otherworldly. That otherworldly psyche, upon being placed into this body of a Riolu, has warped what was there once, and has become something new entirely."

    "Wh-What?" Arian couldn't make heads or tails of their words. "What are you saying?!"

    "That is a truth you will learn to grapple with," the Absol replied. "Slowly but surely, it shall come to the fore, and with it, bring a new form of conflict into your life. One that will bring you into Ardalion's limelight, and for all the world - no matter their background - to know your name, your face and your deeds. The prospect of this is distant, yet be wary of it. For once the truth comes to light…nothing shall be the same for you again."

    "Th-That's…" Arian did not at all like the sound of what he was hearing. If that's not ominous as hell, then I don't know what is.

    "In your near future, I sense more immediate forms of danger." The fortune teller kept going, articulating their fortune in that same measured tone. "Arguments. Failure of understanding. Separation. And on more than one occasion, brushes against Yveltal's wings."

    "Yveltal's wings?" He'd heard that Pokémon's name a number of times, and even in his limited knowledge knew full well what phrases like that meant. So the past while's not been enough, huh? It feels like all I've known are living on the edge and brushes with death. When can I finally actually live normally?

    "If you can overcome the adversity that lies before you, then you may well know happiness," the Absol said, almost as though they read his mind. "Your future is not entirely bleak; within it are rays of hope. Recall what I said earlier; despair not in dark times, for the light shall shine ever brighter when they pass."

    "Look at it like a glass half-full, you mean?"

    "That is one other way of looking at it. As for the dangers that you will face, you will come to know them when they appear before you. But that you are afforded a ray of hope is more than can be said for others whose futures I have divined," the Absol went on.

    "So you're saying I have a chance?" Arian summed up.

    "Indeed. But you must overcome the challenges before you to achieve happiness." The Absol gave him a stern look. "And forget not the mystery that lies within you. You are an enigma, even to yourself."

    "Even to myself?" Arian's brow furrowed in confusion. "Is that because of my amnesia?"

    The fortune teller didn't answer him. All Arian received in return was a stare that felt almost soul-piercing.

    "Wh-What do you mean?" the Riolu repeated, louder but also more unnerved. The Absol's statement did not sit right with him. "What do you mean, 'I'm a mystery, even to myself'?"

    "...The answer to that, you will find out in time." Once again, their words came out mysterious, and evasive. "The mysteries surrounding you, a human in the body of a Riolu…you will come to know those secrets. In the meantime, I would like to give this to you."

    There was a pause while the Absol fetched something from behind them. They reared their head back up with a scroll in their mouth, before placing it in front of Arian.

    "Take it. It will be of aid to you."

    "Er, thanks?" The Riolu took the scroll, and unfurled it. However, to his annoyance, it was yet another point of confusion to add onto the pile.

    Sna scáthanna nach bhféachann sí, feonn onóir agus borrann searbhas.

    In the shadows where she does not look, honour decays and bitterness festers.

    "...What?" The words simply did not make sense to him, whether it was in the Alban tongue or the language he knew.

    "Within your paws lies a half of one whole. Combine the two, and you will reach your next goal." The Absol then rose. "However, that is all I will say to you. You should leave here. Another seeks you out as we speak."

    "Another…?" Then it dawned on him. "Elvira! Crap, I completely forgot about her! Oh no, she's gonna be so mad at me!"

    "Reunite with her, then. Dealing with the problem immediately will lessen the resulting animus," the Absol recommended. "Go, Arian."

    "Right! Uh…thanks for the fortune, um—"

    Then something occurred to Arian.

    "Wait a minute. I never got your name. Who are you?"

    "...I will not tell you my name now," the Absol denied. "But we will meet again. There, you shall know the answer."

    "...Right." The Riolu was admittedly put out with that statement.

    "Now go, Arian. May Fate watch over you."

    "Yeah, bye!"

    With those parting words, Arian closed the door behind him. Once he was outside, he tried to process that odd meeting.

    How long was that? Somehow he felt like it had been an eternity. But looking up, the sun hadn't moved far from its position. It couldn't have been more than a half an hour, he presumed.

    However, it was beginning to edge towards late afternoon, and the Riolu was reminded of the promise he'd made with Yuliya to meet back at the Guild.

    But first. Elvira! I need to find her. Arian looked to his right. I think that was where I came from? He went back down the path, and indeed, it was the way he came in. His ears pricked, as he tried to listen out for his partner.

    Before long, he picked out a familiar voice.

    "Arian? Arian! Where are you?"

    Elvira! She sounded quite worried. Arian rounded the next corner, and there the Treecko was, stuck at a split in the path, wondering which way to go.

    "Elvira!" he called to her.

    "Arian!" she cried. "Why did you run off like that? You left me behind!"

    "B-But I had to chase down whoever was watching us! I just couldn't let them get away!"

    "You shouldn't have ran off!" the Treecko chastised. "Partners are meant to stay together!" The hurt came off in all forms; in her eyes, her voice and her emotion waves which Arian felt. "Please don't do that again. I couldn't bear it if you disappeared in this labyrinth of a place."

    "...I'm sorry, Elvira." The Riolu's ears flattened in sorrow. "I won't leave you like that again."

    "Did you find whoever it was?" Elvira wondered.

    "I did. They were an Absol fortune teller, oddly enough. They read my fortune, which, er…" He paused, recollecting the Absol's prediction. "...It didn't exactly paint the brightest of pictures, but there's hope, at least."

    "Arian, what are you saying?" The Treecko's brow furrowed.

    "Look, I don't fully get what they said either. But they did give me this scroll. They said it would help me at some point." The Riolu unfurled it again. "It's a clue, apparently."

    "...We'll need to dissect this. Maybe if Yuliya was with us, she could help," Elvira proposed. "She's a knight; they're normally investigative."

    "We should probably head back anyway. We did say we'd meet her around late afternoon." The promise they'd made earlier that day rang in Arian's head.

    "Let's go then." Elvira turned to go back down the way she came, and looked back to make sure Arian was following her. The Riolu hurried to catch up with her.

    All the while, his mind was ablaze about that fortune the Absol had read for him.

    Why do I get this feeling I haven't even scratched the surface about just who I am?





    Arian and Elvira headed back through the gates of the Guild. Salann and Alasdair let them through, with some reluctance from the Naclstack. Once inside the Guild's grounds, they found a shaded place below a set of awnings from which they could wait for Yuliya.

    All the while, Arian puzzled over the scroll the Absol had given him. What the hell does this mean? As if their words weren't cryptic enough, now they lob this at us…

    "Arian! Elvira!" a familiar voice called. Team Elpis looked up to see Yuliya enter the Guild's gates.

    "Yuliya!" Arian called and waved to her.

    "Well met, you two." Yuliya said, once she'd made her way over. "Tell me, did you find any information about His Highness?"

    "Alas not." Elvira was dismayed to report that. "We asked around the west end's merchants, passersby and even some refugees. But no one's seen hide nor hair of Prince Leonid."

    "Even Bisharp in general," grumbled Arian. "You'd think they wouldn't know what Bisharp were. That fortune teller didn't give me many clues either."

    "Fortune teller?" Yuliya queried.

    "It's a long story. Let's just say I got nothing out of it but this scroll." Arian held up the scroll in question. "'All that's here is some half-complete saying. I don't know what it means, but I bet any money there's more to this."

    "You received a scroll? Hold on a minute." Yuliya dug into her possessions and found the scroll she'd received from the Sigilyph priest. "I did too."

    "You did?"

    "Yes. And mine has a half-complete saying as well." The Furret then realised something. "Yours was incomplete as well, Arian?"

    "It was. …Maybe if we put them together, they'll mean something!" The Riolu wasted no time putting his idea into action. He and Yuliya put their scrolls together, and read out what they said together.

    Stánann an cosantóir síocháin siar go dtí a baile ar an Oileán Naofa. Sna scáthanna nach bhféachann sí, feonn onóir agus borrann searbhas.

    The harmony keeper gazes west to her home on Oileán Naofa. In the shadows where she does not look, honour decays and bitterness festers.

    "...Er, what?" Arian squinted, wondering if he was reading it correctly. "What does it mean by this?"

    "I do not know." Yuliya frowned. "Is this referring to a location?"

    "Are these messages meant to be together?" Arian considered. "They are from two different sources on opposite ends of Breifne. There's no evidence they're meant to form two parts of the same message."

    "That's true," Elvira said. "But this can't mean nothing either. I don't feel this is a red herring. Something tells me it isn't. It feels like…the answer lies in that message, the way it is now."

    "Indeed. The way the second message refers to a 'she', it must mean they are referring to someone," Yuliya deduced. "It would be a fair assumption to presume 'she' refers to 'the harmony keeper' referred to in the first message if they're meant to go together."

    "Maybe, but how does this help us?" Arian wondered.

    "Could this be telling us where Prince Leonid is?" Elvira said. "In a cryptic way, of course."

    "Possibly." The ex-marshal looked at the text. "Could it be a code? Those aren't unheard of."

    "God help us if it is," Arian groaned. "We could be here for hours trying to decipher it if it's a code."

    "Maybe it isn't. Maybe these words mean something," Elvira suggested. "There's two main things here - 'harmony keeper' and this place where 'honour decays and bitterness festers'."

    "Clearly. But what do those mean?" Arian said. "That's what we're trying to figure out."

    "Hmm…" Elvira pondered. "'Harmony keeper'...'Harmony keeper'...I've heard that term before."

    "You have?" Yuliya blinked in surprise. "Whereabouts did you hear it?"

    "I'm trying to remember." Arian and Yuliya could practically hear the gears turning in Elvira's head. "Was it in a book? I think so…Which book? Fiction or old hero's tales? Did Dad tell me it…?" These mutterings of hers continued for a while.

    In the middle of this, the group heard a heavy flap of wings getting louder above them. They peered up, and a familiar rainbow-feathered bird was descending towards them.

    "Heeeeeeyyyyyyy, Selenians!" Scáthach called from the air, before landing on a low wall near them. "Whatcha up to?"

    "Hello, Tánaiste Scáthach," greeted Yuliya. "We are trying to decipher the meaning behind this message. Perhaps you could help us?"

    "Sure! What's it all about?" Scáthach peered at the two scrolls Elvira and Yuliya showed her.

    "...Oooh, cool! Like a puzzle!"

    "That's one way to put it," Arian muttered.

    "There are two points we're trying to figure out," Yuliya elaborated. "The identity of the 'harmony keeper' as depicted here, and this mysterious place 'where honour decays and bitterness festers'."

    "Hmmm." Scáthach pondered for a moment, before her eyes suddenly lit up. "Oh, that's easy. It's talking about Harmony Keeper Táiltiú."

    "Táiltiú!" Elvira exclaimed. "That's who it was!"

    "Táiltiú?" Arian tilted his head. "Who are they?"

    "The patron saint of Alba, that's who!" Scáthach answered with gusto. "She helped the Hero Riagán take down the Tyrant King five hundred years ago, and was the first Archdruid of Alba! She also did a load of stuff for the city's poor, and became a nurse in Alba's first tournaments!

    She kinda went unknown for a while, in the shadow of our Hero, but they recognised her again and canonised her as a saint for all she did! So woohoo! Big win right there!"

    "I think I have heard the name before," Yuliya pondered. "But what makes you certain that this is referring to Saint Táiltiú?"

    "Because of her name!" Scáthach replied. "When warriors become famous in Alba, they usually get a fun nickname to go by. They call me 'Rainbow Wing Scáthach' and they call Trahy 'Copperforce Trahaern.' You know what they called Táiltiú? They called her…'Harmony Keeper Táiltiú'."

    "Ahh." Yuliya nodded, realising what she was getting at. "I see."

    "We even have a statue and square dedicated to her!" the Archeops went on. "It's kinda out of the way, but that's what she would've wanted. They say Táiltiú kept to herself and wouldn't want big displays of herself. Kinda why she went unknown for such a long time in Alba's history, really!"

    "A statue and square?" Elvira suddenly had a realisation. "That could be the location mentioned in the clue!"

    "Really? Why'd you think that?" Arian questioned.

    "A statue has a gaze to it. 'In the shadows where she does not look'...that could refer to behind the statue," the Treecko explained.

    "It seems we have our next mission; to find the statue of Saint Táiltiú," Yuliya said. "Tánaiste, do you know where that might be?"

    "I sure do!" Scáthach peppily answered. "Come on! I'll take you there myself!" With a flap of her wings, she took off from the wall and began to fly down the path out of the Guild.

    "Come on! Let's catch up with her!" Yuliya dashed after her, and Team Elpis followed, determined to capitalise on this breakthrough.





    "And here it is! Cearnóg Naomh Tháiltiú! Just what you were looking for!"

    St Táiltiú's Square was nestled in a quiet part of Breifne's more prosperous eastern half. It was tucked away in a sheltered part of the city away from the hustle and bustle of the markets that Yuliya and Team Elpis had observed in their respective scouting of the Alban capital earlier. Arian noted that the labyrinthine nature of Breifne's streets was not confined to the western half of town; the eastern half had their fair share of maze-like streets as well.

    "Now then, I gotta go!" Scáthach declared. "Lot of logistical stuff to do. Tánaiste business, you know how it is!"

    "Leaders never have a restful moment." Yuliya nodded in understanding. "Apologies for taking up your time, Tánaiste."

    "Oh, it's no problem at all! I love helping people out!" The Archeops' eyes shone as she said this. "Okay, but I really gotta go, or Trahy'll get grumpy again. See ya!" And with that, she took off into the sky.

    "Thank goodness she came along," Elvira said. "Otherwise we'd be no closer to chasing down this clue."

    "Well, I know that's good and all." Arian, however, didn't look any happier. "But what are we gonna find here?"

    "Quite simple," Yuliya said. "We let the statue be our guide."

    Within the square lay a large, distinctive, with dried grass and a tall iron fence surrounding it. It depicted a tall, dinosaur-like Pokémon with a distinctive drill-shaped horn.

    "Hm, I can't say I expected that," murmured Yuliya. "The image of a peaceful saint I had was not that of a Rhydon."

    "Appearances can be deceiving," Elvira reasoned. "Even the most menacing-looking Pokémon can turn out to be gentle." Her mind flashed back to Mitrofan giving her money to buy sweets all those years ago. So understanding and kindhearted, and the way her father chatted to him like a firm friend…

    She shook her head. If she dwelled too much on those memories, it would only make her heart ache all the greater.

    "Right, so…" Arian looked around him. "We're here now. Where's the clue?"

    "We have to figure it out." Yuliya looked up at the statue. "'In the shadows where she does not look'...hmmm…"

    "Hold on a minute." Looking around the square, Elvira suddenly had an idea. "If St Táiltiú looks that way…" She gestured in the same direction as the Rhydon's gaze. "Then behind her is where we should be looking." Her finger pointed towards a row of houses opposite the statue, away from where the Rhydon looked. "Do you notice? The way the sunlight's reflecting off those houses…it's a bit like shadows are being cast, isn't it?"

    "Huh." Arian followed her finger, and saw her point. "You're right…"

    "Those houses…they don't look to be in the best of shape," commented Yuliya. The Furret's observation wasn't unfounded; the houses in the square were far from dilapidated, but at the same time, they did not look to be of the highest standard. It was as if a slice of the western city had been taken across the Istwyth and placed in the eastern half. They followed building trends that the Selenians had seen in Teamhair and Breifne, with various bright colours painted upon the walls. However, they did look to be in need of a lick of paint.

    "So what we're looking for is somewhere in those houses," Elvira said.

    "I believe so," Yuliya said.

    "...I don't know, guys." Arian was doubtful. "Are we just gonna knock on the doors of the people who live here? What are we going to say to them? 'Hi, we're looking for the Selenian prince, do you know anything about that?'"

    "...You have a point, Arian." Yuliya's confidence faltered. "Does this even have to do with His Highness? Is this message a hoax? I sincerely hope that…" Her voice then trailed off.

    "Yuliya?" Elvira said. She and Arian followed her gaze, and saw what had caught the Furret's attention.

    A group of Falinks emerged from what looked to be the most ramshackle house in the square, with a creaky, rotting door and long-since faded paintwork. Only four of them were present, though.

    "Hold on," Yuliya whispered. "Those other two Falinks…Are they—"

    Her question was soon answered by the remaining two Falinks scurrying to the rest of their platoon.

    "You guys!" one of them yelled out. "We might've hit upon something!"

    "Y-Yeah!" the other, meeker Falink replied. "This could be huge!"

    "Y! N!" The lead Falink sounded furious. "You're way past your allocated time for intel gathering! Master Dubhrua despises tardiness! What do you privates have to say for yourself?!" he lambasted with all the gusto of a drill sergeant.

    "G-General C! I-It's not what you think!" implored the meek one. "We might've actually found something!"

    "Well, spit it out, Private N!" yelled C. "It better be good! You better not have been slacking!"

    "We had an encounter in the market today," the other Falink, Y, began. "We collided with a Furret, who apologised to us before going on her way. But I noticed that the Furret in question had a foreign accent. She didn't sound like she was from Alba."

    None of the three needed to be told who the Falink was talking about. They took that moment to hide behind Táiltiú's statue out of sight.

    "So what, Y?" one of the other Falink questioned. "A foreign Furret? Who cares about that?"

    "No, hang on, R," another Falink said. "Did that Furret have a Selenian accent?"

    "I think. I couldn't be sure, though. We haven't met too many Selenians."

    "Master Dubhrua's Selenian," the third Falink pointed out, leading to a gasp from Yuliya. "Did they sound like him?"

    "Silence, Private A!" C demanded. "We don't need you giving away intelligence that could be used by enemies!"

    "S-Sorry." A cringed from his superior's outburst.

    "We might be onto something though," the second Falink said.

    "Just a passerby, that Furret was. You're overthinking it, Private W." C shook his head. "Now then! Get back inside, Y and N, and explain yourselves to Master Dubhrua!"

    "But Master Dubhrua knew a Furret, didn't he? That could well be her!" Y protested.

    "Plenty of those rats around. Not all of them can be the one Master Dubhrua knew."

    The Selenians were listening in on all of this, incredulous at what they were hearing. None more so than Yuliya.

    "This Master Dubhrua…Could they possibly be…?" The ex-marshal didn't finish her sentence. "I'm getting to the bottom of this." She marched out from their hiding place.

    "Wait, Yuliya! You'll give us away!" Arian pleadingly whispered. But the Furret didn't listen, marching forward towards the Falinks.

    "Excuse me," she began. "May I speak to you all?"

    "I-It's her!" N said. "That's who we saw today, isn't it, Y?"

    "Silence, Private N!" C barked. "...Something you want, girl?"

    "I overheard your conversation about happening across a Furret from Selenia," Yuliya went on. "And based on what you've said thus far, I have a few questions for you."

    "Tch. Try harder, lassie!" spat C. "You're not getting questions out of this soldier. Not without a fight!"

    "Oh, you wish to go that route, do you?" Yuliya quickly caught on. "That's fine by me. If it means I'll get answers to my liege's whereabouts, I'll gladly solve this the Alban way."

    "Your liege, huh?" remarked R. "No Alban uses 'liege'. You're definitely not from here, then."

    "Quite correct. I am from Selenia, and I am a knight sworn to her tsar. I am Yuliya Gerasimovna Lysagora, and right now, I am committed to finding the whereabouts of our heir." She paused dramatically. "Tell me. Does the name 'Prince Leonid Klimentovich Ruslan' ring any bells?"

    At least three of the Falinks had something of a reaction to that name. N gasped, Y's eyes widened, and R looked around nervously at his platoon.

    C, however, stood his ground. "No words are escaping me, Furret! You'll have to pry the answer from my cold, dead lips!"

    "I won't take it that far. Your Master Dubhrua must value you, if he is who I think he is. But regardless, I'm not backing down." Yuliya held up her paws. "Arian! Elvira! Help me out here!"

    Team Elpis stepped out from behind the statue. They quickly assumed a battle stance, seeing what was about to go down.

    "Square up, men!" C ordered. "Your targets are the Furret, Riolu and Treecko ahead of you! Eliminate them and protect Master Dubhrua!"

    "Sir, yes, sir!" the Falinks obliged.

    "What's that? I can't hear you!"

    "Sir, yes, sir!"

    The voices came louder. But the Selenians quickly noticed something. Only three voices responded instead of five.

    "...I hear dissension." C had noticed it too. "Y and N, are you ignoring the words of a superior?!" He turned to notice those two Falinks had stepped out of line.

    "W-We're not, General C!" N cried. "But…"

    "There's no reason we have to fight," Y continued. "There's a high possibility Master Dubhrua knows this Furret. A name like hers does sound incredibly Selenian. A Selenian noble, even."

    "We're a unit! We are Carwyn, and we fight as one! You don't back down from your general's orders!"

    "But there's no point!" N pleaded. "Master Dubhrua needs allies more than ever! Why are we fighting her?!"

    "To prove her mettle! If she wants to meet Master Dubhrua, she's gotta get through us first! So stop whining, square up and get ready to fight!"

    "...No. I'm sick of fighting. I'm sick of pointless fighting." N turned to his fellow Falinks. "Come on, guys, please! Can't we talk this out for once?"

    "I agree with N," Y seconded. "This is a point where dialogue would be optimal. Fighting, even if it is the Alban way, would be pointless. Don't forget what happened at home, where lack of dialogue caused the mess there and forced us and many others to flee here."

    Y's words had a weight to them that caused a change in demeanour of the others. The determined looks faltered slightly, and in crept a feeling that Arian could sense as sadness.

    Reluctance then began to creep in among the other three.

    "Sorry, General C, but I gotta agree with 'em," A said.

    "What?!"

    "As do I," W added. "I don't wanna give away an opportunity to help Master Dubhrua."

    "If we fight them and win, we might scare them off, and that'll be a missed opportunity, alright," R reasoned. "Come on, General C. There's no point to this."

    "You all…" C looked among his Falinks cohort. All were going against him in his order to fight. "...Very well. I wouldn't be a lead Falink if I didn't look out for my men." He turned to face the Selenians. "I stand down, Miss Yuliya."

    Really? Just like that? Arian was surprised at the turnaround. Who would've thought words would convince an Alban?

    "Thank you very much, Carwyn." Yuliya bowed respectfully. "You recognise your men's wishes and changed your plan accordingly. Through this, you've earned my respect."

    "Thank you. However!" C said. "I still do not trust you, ma'am. You may have good intentions and you may know Master Dubhrua. But whether he'll bring you into his circle of trust is another matter entirely!"

    "I'm certain he will, if he is who I think he is," Yuliya assured.

    "Uh, Yuliya?" Arian wondered. "Do you know this 'Master Dubhrua' they're talking about?" He could sense hope brimming in the Furret.

    "I believe so," Yuliya answered, her answer full of confidence.

    "I think I may know who he is," Elvira murmured. "And if so, our search may be over soon."

    "Wait, really?" I'm missing something big here, aren't I?

    "...I'll take you to see him," C said. "But I'll warn you. Whatever image you have of Master Dubhrua is not what you'll see here. He's…a changed man, in many ways. I don't know how he'll react to you, ma'am. Perhaps it's best you see him for yourself."

    He turned to his men. "R, W. Head inside and inform Master Dubhrua of these visitors."

    "Yes, sir!" The two Falinks went over and opened the door. Immediately, a loud creaking sounded, making the trio wince. That front door definitely needs oiling, Arian thought.

    He noticed a concerned look on Yuliya's face as they went to enter the building. Apprehension, no doubt, at who she would meet. Given the warning C had given them before entering, it didn't bode well.

    A thought occurred to Arian.

    Wait a minute…Could it be? Could Master Dubhrua really be—

    "He's in his room, ready to meet you." Arian barely registered R's voice against the shattering realisation that came to him. Now, as he readied to enter the room, he found his own stomach bubbling with anxiety. He could sense it in Elvira too. Master Dubhrua, this mysterious figure…it was time to pull back the curtain on them.

    The room was dark, with the window boarded up and candlelight providing the only illumination. In that darkness, Arian caught sight of a figure at the far end of the room, sitting cross-legged and facing away from them.

    Right away, he sensed many emotions. Bitterness. Frustration. Anger. They permeated around the room like a mist, the influence of the negative aura radiating from the figure, who began to rise. From the back, they saw a tattered and worn cape with a faded crest on the back. It showed signs of an ornate state once upon a time.

    The so-called Master Dubhrua turned to face them, and the Selenians now had a good view of him. He was a little taller than Yuliya, and a fair bit taller than either of Team Elpis. His metallic features, specifically his bladed hands and axe-like helm, glinted in the candlelight. The rest of his body primarily featured red-and-black colouration.

    The Bisharp fixed them all with a steely glare. No words came from his mouth, setting in unease all the greater for the Selenians.

    Yuliya could barely hold it together. She tried her hardest to hold back a sob as she spoke to a face she hadn't seen in five long years.

    "Y-Your Highness…It's really you, isn't it?"





    Notes

    Ceatharnaigh - Irish for 'bandits'.

    Albach - A partially made-up word to mean 'Alban', derived from the Irish word for Scottish, 'Albanach'.

    Pataich - Scots Gaelic for 'children'.

    Cearnóg Naomh Tháiltiú - Irish for 'St Táiltiú's Square.'
     
    Chapter 28 - The Prince
  • Arukona

    A Scribe Penning His Brainworms
    Location
    Ardalion
    Pronouns
    He/him
    Partners
    1. aggron
    2. sceptile
    Chapter 28
    The Prince

    The so-called Master Dubhrua turned to face them, and the Selenians now had a good view of him. He was a little taller than Yuliya, and a fair bit taller than either of Team Elpis. His metallic features, specifically his bladed hands and axe-like helm, glinted in the candlelight. The rest of his body primarily featured red-and-black colouration.

    The Bisharp fixed them all with a steely glare. No words came from his mouth, setting in unease all the greater for the Selenians.

    Yuliya could barely hold it together. She tried her hardest to hold back a sob as she spoke to a face she hadn't seen in five long years.


    "Y-Your Highness…It's really you, isn't it?"

    Leonid%20by%20Wayfarer.png

    (Art by maskedwayfarer on Discord.)

    The Bisharp's glare softened slightly, but it still retained its hardened edge. Arian could feel the bitterness radiating from Dubhrua, in all of its oppressive nature. He grimaced uncomfortably, feeling almost weighed down by its sheer force. Looking over, Elvira seemed to feel that way too.

    "...Yuliya." The Bisharp spoke for the first time. "It has been some time." His voice sounded rich, his silver spoon accent prevalent. This was a noblemon, undoubtedly. But the dignity of his voice was overwritten by a heaviness that suggested he had been through his fair share of tribulations.

    "Y-Your Highness!" A few teardrops fell from Yuliya's eyes. "You're alive! Oh, thank the Creator, you're alive! I truly thought you had perished five years ago!"

    "That really is Prince Leonid, huh…" Arian murmured. So he actually stayed in town, even after the way he was treated?

    "I did not die on that day. The castle guards saw to that," Leonid replied. "They got me out of Iria while that monster took the lives of my parents. From there, Lada's knights transported me to the Dresilian border. I am indebted to them for allowing me to live."

    "They were brave soldiers," Yuliya sniffed. "If I can find them, I wouldn't be able to thank them enough."

    "If you still can. Mitrofan would do away with them if he knew." A snarl crossed the prince's face. "How did he do it? How in blazes did that turncoat turn my entire country against me? My father spent years cultivating the trust of his people and nobles, and earned their respect through his virtuous deeds. How is it that in the span of a year, that spiteful Aggron was able to turn my own people against me?"

    "Not everyone. Mitrofan rules through fear and oppression," Yuliya corrected. "His Majesty ruled through grace and care for his people. I'm sure that once you return, Your Highness, they will side with you and help you to overthrow Mitrofan!"

    "...Tch." However, Leonid didn't sound convinced. "It won't be as simple as that. Any attempt to overthrow him won't be accomplished without proper planning and organisation. I will not hear pipe dreams of revolution and glory days unless I see evidence of such a thing."

    "But we have just that, Your Highness!" Yuliya told him. "Back in Selenia, Branislav has organised hidden forces to come forth when the time comes. And more recently, we have allied with remnant forces of the Irian Guild, and it was thanks to them that we were able to find your whereabouts! Two of their members travelled with me to Alba." She gestured to her mercenary companions. "I would be none the wiser had we not met."

    "You…enlisted the Irian Guild for help?" The Bisharp blinked, unsure if he'd heard correctly.

    "I did indeed. They're against Mitrofan as well, and have similar goals to ours," the Furret explained. "They're being led by Mud Bomber Melchior, and have their own group of determined fighters. They have additional ties as well, which is how they were able to locate you. Our alliance hasn't been for long, but already it has borne fruit."

    "...So you believe." No joy sparked in Leonid's eyes, however. Instead…suspicion glinted in them. "Alas, that fruit will rot before you know it."

    "Oh dear…" Elvira murmured, as if she knew where this was going.

    "The Irian Guild are a treacherous breed, Yuliya. Have you forgotten the patronage my dynasty showered upon the Guild over the years, protecting them from constant censure, only to be stabbed in the back when that vile Guildmaster descended upon Iria Castle, killed my father and took his crown? Do you forget your enemies, Yuliya?!"

    "I do not, Your Highness!" The Furret was taken aback by her liege's sudden rage. "They are not our enemies! Not everyone in the Irian Guild supported Mitrofan's takeover! Quite the opposite - many turned against him! Team Marshwood, his most devoted team, turned against him! Mud Bomber Melchior leads the Guild now, and Fernblade Kallias's daughter is among their ranks! That's her right there!" She gestured to Elvira.

    "Bah! I have no time for such overtures!" scoffed Leonid. "Guild scum were always looking to undercut us from the very start! Do you not see, Yuliya? This is a Mythymnan Rapidash that only opens the door to treachery! Just like that filth Mitrofan did to my father and my nation!"

    "You know we can hear you, right?" Arian interjected.

    "I know full well you can hear me, Riolu," Leonid snapped. "Your intent is fully clear to me, and I will not fall for your tricks!"

    "It's not like that at all," Elvira said. She breathed in, trying to keep her cool. "We want to help you, Your Highness. We want to liberate Selenia from Mitrofan's clutches just as much as you do. Selenia's been left in a deplorable state because of him. My town, Ozerograd, was taken over by a bandit gang who terrorised the townsfolk day in, day out for five years. I've seen it with my own eyes. I've experienced what it's like to live under him."

    "...You are the daughter of Fernblade Kallias, Yuliya said?" Leonid murmured. "Keep talking, Treecko. What else did that monster do?"

    "He hired House Kumiega's heir to become one of his marshals," Elvira began.

    "What?" The Bisharp suddenly became alert.

    "He trespassed upon the Irian Catacombs as well," Arian said.

    "I beg your pardon?"

    "He burned down the Irian Guild and made everyone who didn't join with him an outlaw," Elvira went on. "Our very existence is reason enough for him to chase us down, and-"

    "I'm not interested," Leonid suddenly cut off.

    "Wh-What?"

    "There you go rambling about yourselves once again! You had me fooled for a moment! You had me believing you genuinely cared about the welfare of my nation." Selenia's tsesarevich glared at them.

    "But when pressured, all you care for is your own back. Not your clients, not your people, and most certainly not the house that ensured your existence!"

    "Without us, we wouldn't even be meeting right now!" Arian countered. "Do you even hear yourself right now?"

    "Arian!" Elvira whispered urgently.

    "You dare speak to me that way, Riolu? Do you knowto whom you are speaking?" Leonid pointed a blade at Arian.

    "I'm not stupid. I know who you are, Prince Leonid," Arian said.

    "That's no attitude of a saviour. That's closer to someone who would stab me in the back the first chance they got!"

    "For the love of God, we are not going to betray you! We-"

    "Dyna ddigon!"

    The commanding bellow of C pierced through the air, halting Arian and Leonid in their tracks. The Falink marched up to them, the rest of his legion behind him.

    "This constant arguing will get us nowhere!" the lead Falink said. "Arian, if you want to bring Master Dubhrua home to Selenia, then treat him with adequate respect! You're burning bridges with that attitude!"

    "...Fine." Arian would've retorted, but saw C's point.

    "Thank you for that," Leonid said.

    "You are not without fault either, Master Dubhrua!" C's outburst caught the Bisharp off guard. "Part of a leader's integrity is trust! By cutting off these mercenaries, you are no closer to reclaiming your homeland! You want to dethrone that Mitrofan and become tsar of Selenia, don't you?"

    "Of course I do, Carwyn. What is a prince if not devoted to his realm?"

    "If you are devoted to your realm, then take this risk!" C urged. "And should they step out of line…we will act on it. That's right, isn't it, soldiers!?"

    "Sir, yes, sir!" five voices yelled in unison.

    Leonid scowled in annoyance. The look on his face spelled angry reluctance at having to possibly partner with those he'd expressed disdain for not even a minute ago. But…even the prideful prince had to admit his subordinate had a point.

    "...Tch," he spat. "Fine. Yuliya is here - I can trust her at least." He gave a knowing nod to his sister-in-law. "But let me make one thing quite plain to you mercenaries." His attention turned to Team Elpis. "One step out of line and you can kiss any semblance of an alliance goodbye."

    Arian was about to retort, but Elvira cut him off.

    "We accept your decision, Your Highness," she said.

    "Hmph. Now, then onto the next matter," Leonid said. "We need aid, and that is something all three countries have denied me."

    "All three?" Yuliya frowned.

    "Indeed. Be they Alba, Dresilia or Miletos, when Selenia's hour of need is nigh, they all look the other way. That is the reality before us," Leonid spat.

    "Is there no other way, Your Highness? It has been a few years. Attitudes may have changed."

    "One thing is more certain. I will not return to the East," the Bisharp prince declared. "I sensed connivance in the negotiations, and there were signs that they would help me, but only for their own benefit. Fellow Selenian nobles warned me of a deal that would come with strings attached, so to speak. I will not have that." He shook his head. "Selenia's shackles would remain - the only change would be their owner."

    "But that's surely the mark of compromise, isn't it? We must make sacrifices for our nation, and if that means-"

    "No, Yuliya," Leonid cut her off. "Under no circumstances am I allying with the East. Especially not with Dresilia."

    "Hm? Why them?" Arian asked.

    "Quiet. We are not touching on this matter right now," the prince shut down. "With them cast aside, that leaves Alba as our only remaining option. Alas, Rí Trahaern burned that bridge by cutting ties with me some time ago."

    "But that was a few years ago, by the sound of it," Yuliya pointed out.

    "A year and a half ago."

    "Attitudes can change," the Furret went on. "Could he not give you a second chance?"

    "Rí Trahaern is not known for second chances."

    "It's worth a try, isn't it? This is for our country, Your Highness!" A tear dripped from the knight's eye. "We cannot simply shut off every possible opening. If we do that, Selenia will never know freedom!"

    "I agree," C said. "And so would my men. I understand your feud with Rí Trahaern more than anyone. But it's a gulf that must be bridged! If you can do that, then you'll have quite the backing, as well as a possible future ally against the East!"

    "That…" Leonid was about to protest, but saw the Falink's point.

    "Please, Your Highness," Yuliya begged. "For our country, please reconcile with Rí Trahaern. Selenia's fate depends on it."

    The Bisharp considered the words of his allies, and the pleading looks of each of them. Even Team Elpis silently implored it, though they said nothing in the wake of Leonid's harsh words to them.

    "...Alright," he said, with a hint of reluctance. "I will try."

    "Great!" Yuliya cheered. "I'll head back to the Guild ahead of you and try to arrange a meeting with Rí Trahaern, Your Highness. He is aware of us, and knows that we want aid to overthrow Mitrofan. Having you by our side would greatly strengthen our cause."

    "Very well. Go, Yuliya."

    "Thank you, Your Highness." And with that, Yuliya left the room. The creak of the front door could be heard, followed by a slam.

    "Right." Leonid turned his attention to Team Elpis. "Let me make one thing plain right now. I may have agreed to this alliance, but that does not mean you have earned my trust. You will need to do much to regain it, after the Guild's betrayal."

    "We have every intention of proving we mean our loyalty, Your Highness," Elvira pledged. "You will see that the Irian Guild stands with you and will help you reclaim Selenia back from Mitrofan's grasp."

    "Hmph." The prince remained unconvinced. "Stick to your vow, Carwyn. It never hurts to be safe."

    "Yes, Master Dubhrua!" Carwyn collectively obliged.

    "...Master Dubhrua, huh?" Arian noted. "What's up with that name? Why do you call Prince Leonid that?"

    "It's a name adopted as a suck-up to Albans," Leonid said. "They can't stand titles like 'Prince', and many don't appear to like Selenians either. The name change is an attempt to blend in. …Not that it works," he murmured. "But I can't call myself Prince Leonid. Not in public, anyway. In public, I am Dubhrua, and I demand you refer me as such."

    "Alright then, Dubhrua-"

    "Master Dubhrua. I have integrity, you know." Affront laced Leonid's voice. "Show some respect!"

    "...Very well then, Master Dubhrua." Arian cringed after saying that. I'm no servant of his.

    "Now come." Leonid flicked his tattered cape. "Let us away. Rí Trahaern will not come to us." He strolled towards the door, Carwyn following after him in a chorus of footfall.

    "Let's go, Arian," Elvira said, and started after them.

    "Right…" The Riolu followed her, with a hint of begrudging. The exchange that unfolded stirred discontent in him, as he headed to the front door.

    I'm not going to enjoy working with him, am I?





    The evening sun shone brightly upon St Táiltiú's Square, as Leonid, Carwyn and Team Elpis went outside. The Falinks formed a ring around Leonid as they stepped out into the open.

    "Before we begin," the Bisharp said. "Pay no mind to passersby."

    "What does that mean?" Arian asked.

    "Do not ask silly little questions," Leonid scorned. "When I order you to do something, you do it without question. Is that understood?"

    "...Yes," Arian muttered. "Master Dubhrua."

    "As it should be." He turned, and began to march. Team Elpis followed him.

    There weren't too many people around the square - evening was setting in, and most families were inside having their evening meals. The scents of home cooking wafted through the air, and Arian's tummy growled as he breathed in the air.

    Hopefully the Guild has food for us. I'm starving after all that looking around today.

    It wasn't long before the group arrived at more crowded streets. At first, neither member of Team Elpis noticed anything off. But then…

    "Wait a minute. Isn't that…?"

    "That's Himself, alright."

    "That cábóg'sstill around?"

    "I thought he'd gone back to that green hell of his."

    Arian's sharp ears picked out whispers from passersby, and his senses picked up on a multitude of emotions. But none of them were positive.

    Suspicion. Scorn. Disdain. Feelings of this nature prevailed amongst those on the street. Team Elpis tried to make themselves as unnoticeable as possible, but this wasn't fully successful. Their trailing after Leonid drew the ire of more Albans.

    "What's with them? Why are they following him?"

    "D'ya see those bairns, Fionnuala?"

    "Aye, I do. The hell are they doin' with aul' Dubhrua?"

    "That's Dubhrua? Ah, stop! Ya mean, yer one who…?"

    Arian didn't hear the rest of the remark from the passing Greavard, as they drifted out of earshot. It was a pity; he would've wanted to hear more. Then again, he recalled Rí Trahaern's words.

    Challenged one of their strongest generals to a duel and lost…Is that why these people don't like him? The Riolu looked around him, at the faces of contempt. But why? Why did he do that? Did he really think he would win?

    "Keep marching, Riolu!" Leonid's call drew him back to attention.

    "Oh, sorry!" he apologised. "Master Dubhrua!" he then added before the Bisharp could chastise him. He cringed at his words, but swallowed them as he caught up with the prince.

    They walked on, weathering the looks and remarks they got from passing Pokémon, until they arrived at the bridge to the Rí's Guild. The evening sunlight glinted off the waters of the Istwyth, in quite a sight to behold. Team Elpis would've stopped and taken in the view, as some on the bridge were doing, but they had a more pressing prince-related matter on their plate.

    The group arrived at the Guild entrance, the same place where Arian and Salann had their altercation the day before. The latter remained at his post, along with Alasdair. However, both immediately moved in front of them to block their path.

    "Oi! No access to the likes of you!" Salann shouted, pointing at Leonid.

    "I need to see Rí Trahaern," Leonid demanded. "Let me through!"

    "Not a chance in hell!" Alasdair growled indignantly. "Not after the way you acted, you gàrr-laoch!"

    "Hold on a minute! What's all this?" Elvira asked. "Why are you acting like this to Master Dubhrua?"

    "Is this to do with when he came here first?" Arian wondered.

    "Of course it fucking is," Salann hissed. "You really thought you could take on Fachtna, of all people? Ruthless Wrecker Fachtna?"

    "Of all the people to challenge to a duel…I'm amazed you even have the gumption to show your face back here," Alasdair scoffed. "The hell you think the answer's gonna be? Absolutely not!"

    "Absolutely yes!" another voice cut in. A familiar, chipper tone.

    Just like the day before, Scáthach fluttered down from the portcullis roof and landed in between the quarrelling parties.

    "T-Tánaiste?!" Salann was taken aback by the Archeops' sudden appearance.

    "Let him in," she ordered.

    "B-But Tánaiste!" This time, Alasdair joined in the protest. "Do you realise who's standing behind you?"

    "I know Dubhrua's behind me, Alasdair." Scáthach looked over her shoulder. "Long time no see, huh?" Oddly, the chipperness that normally accompanied Alba's tánaiste seemed to diminish once she and Leonid caught eyes.

    "Tánaiste Scáthach," Leonid acknowledged. "We meet again."

    "Yes, we do, Dubhrua," Scáthach replied. "And I'm gonna let you in. But only because Trahy said so. If he didn't, I would've left you out in the cold." She turned to the two guards. "Let them through, or I'm telling Trahy."

    The threat of the Copperajah's wrath was enough to make the duo part ways and open the path to him

    "Come on. You don't wanna miss dinner, do you?" Scáthach said. "Trahy wants you there. Now brostaigí, or it's gonna go cold!" She then flew away into the Guild, leaving the four far behind.

    "You heard her. Enter." Salann gestured coldly to the tánaiste. The four wordlessly obliged.

    The walk through the Guild's courtyard was uncomfortable at best. The throng of fellow mercs was nowhere near as crowded as yesterday, but the few that were shot piercing glares towards Leonid. The Bisharp did his best to pay them no heed, but Arian sensed a hint of discomfort coming from him.

    "That fucker's back…"

    "What does the Chief want with him? That's what I'd like to know."

    "He can't seriously see the potential in that Sel, can he?"

    Remarks from passing Guild members accompanied Team Elpis, Carwyn and Leonid into the Guild itself. Arian admittedly felt slight pity for the prince, but kept his thoughts to himself.

    Along the Guild's hallway, Yuliya awaited.

    "Your Highness." She bowed to him. "I have managed to secure a meeting with Rí Trahaern."

    "I heard there was to be a dinner over which we would speak again?" Leonid said. "Tánaiste Scáthach claimed as such."

    "Yes. Preparations are being made as we speak."

    "I see."

    An awkward silence persisted amongst the group of five Pokémon, while they waited for the all clear. Eventually, that was given to them by a Claydol servant.

    "The rí is waiting for you," they buzzed. "Follow me."

    The group followed after him, entering the canteen. The smell of Cairbre and Tiarnán's delicious cooking drifted through the air, reminding Arian of when they arrived yesterday with Team Scalebreaker. The two dragons were nowhere to be seen, unfortunately. Must still be off on that mission, the Riolu presumed.

    The Claydol headed for a door off to the side marked, and telekinetically opened it.

    "Rí, Tánaiste." He bowed his head, as best a Claydol could. "Prince Leonid has arrived, along with Team Elpis."

    "Get them in here." The gruff voice of Trahaern could be heard.

    The Claydol stood aside as the group of five stepped into the room. There awaited Trahaern and Scáthach, both of whom fixed their eyes on Leonid.

    "Take a seat." The Copperajah used his trunk to pull out a chair, looking less than pleased. "I never thought you'd come crawling back here."

    "Persistence and desperation go hand in hand," Leonid said. "Something I imagine most Albans are familiar with. Is it not the way for the poor in this country to try and become strong, and in turn hoist themselves out of their plight?"

    "That's…true," Scáthach admitted.

    "Hmm." Trahaern looked down on Leonid. "Maybe you aren't completely tactless. We'll see once this dinner gets underway."

    As if on cue, servants entered the room with covered plates, and placed each down on the tables. They then lifted the covers, revealing steaming hot stobhach laoich on each of them, though with more vegetables in this batch.

    "Sit down and eat," Trahaern instructed. "Don't let Chef Cairbre's hard work go to waste."

    "I had no intention of doing that." Leonid sat down at the seat that the rí had pulled out. Team Elpis and Yuliya took their own seats, while Carwyn stood by Leonid.

    Arian and Elvira both looked at the stew in reluctance, remembering the kick the spice provided last time. They gingerly took a spoonful of stew each, and brought it to their mouths.

    "Ack!" Arian uttered. How's it even spicier this time?! It was like a fireball was on his tongue! Not wanting to cause a fuss in front of three royals, he kept his mouth shut, which made tears leak from his eyes. Looking over, he saw his partner do much the same thing. Across from him, he sensed Yuliya had similar sentiments to them, but she was doing remarkably better at hiding her feelings, barely flinching as she daintily brought the food to her lips.

    At the same time, Trahaern, Scáthach and Leonid had begun conversing. All three tore their attention from their food and listened in on the conversation.

    "So where have you been all this time?" Trahaern spoke, after which he grabbed some stew with his trunk and brought it to his mouth.

    "...Living in a house at St Táiltiú's Square," Leonid told him. "I've gotten by."

    "I knew you were still around," Scáthach said. "Ca did invite you for a divination ritual some time back."

    "They did indeed. But for what?" the Bisharp huffed in contempt. "All it amounted to was that clergymon telling me I would never become the Tsar of Selenia."

    "Wait, what?" The Archeops was taken aback, and the Selenians, Yuliya in particular, grew rigid at Leonid's words.

    "What did Their Grace say to you?" Trahaern asked.

    "I do not care to repeat it," Leonid replied. "The way they lace their words with cryptic meanings and false allusions…I cannot stand when words are danced around in front of me! Do you truly rely on such balderdash, Trahaern?"

    "Hey!" Scáthach cawed angrily. "Take that back! Don't say mean things about Ca!"

    "Quite right, Scáthach." Trahaern kept his composure, but a note of scorn entered his gravelly tone. "The advice of Archdruid Cathbad has been invaluable whenever they have given it. They have saved me and others from various assassination attempts with their insight, and have been a guide in times of decision. Their view of Fate, while mysterious, is not misguided, and they hold the beacon that guides us to the truth."

    "Tch. And yet they dabble in such cryptic language. How do you know they're not misleading you?"

    "Many times has Their Grace lent their aid, and not once has it turned out to be folly," the rí countered. "I trust them, and I will not do to our Archdruid what Pyrrhus did to the Pythia."

    "It is the matter of relying on it," Leonid said. "Considering what I have been through, I have learned that those who I can trust are few and far between."

    "An aspiring leader placing doubt in trusting others? Well now." Trahaern's eyes flashed with disappointment. "That's not a good sign at all."

    "I beg your pardon? Explain yourself, Trahaern." Leonid shot an accusatory look at the Copperajah.

    "Placing trust in others is a basic function of a leader," Trahaern explained. "Your people pay you taxes and swear allegiance to you, and in return, you offer them shelter and protection in your realm. It's not a fair exchange if you don't trust them even after they serve you. In many instances like that, tyranny follows, and where tyranny reigns, suffering is inevitable."

    "Excuse me? Are you calling me a tyrant?" Leonid said, aghast. "A tyrant is the very reason my people are suffering! Are you deaf to the cries for help of innocent people to the south?!"

    "I am aware." Trahaern was unfazed. "And?"

    "And?! You know of their woes. You hear the voices of my people as Selenia withers under that monster. But you sit about in Breifne and do nothing about it!" Leonid slammed the table in outrage, knocking over a wine chalice. Luckily it was empty, and a nearby servant righted it again.

    "There is one simple reason why I have not acted," Trahaern said, intent on keeping calm. "The Selenian people are indeed in dire straits. Many of them have hope that their tsesarevich, as you call your heir, will return to them one day. Three of them have even come directly into Alba to find you." He gestured to Yuliya, Elvira and Arian with his trunk. "But the problem lies in who they seek. That problem-" He paused, before directing his gaze back at the Bisharp. "-Is you, Leonid."

    "You claim I am the problem?" Leonid gritted his teeth. "Do not insult me in this manner, Trahaern!"

    "Indeed I do," the Copperajah said. "History is rife with examples of aspiring leaders overthrowing tyrants and pledging freedom, only for them to become tyrants themselves. Even if you do succeed in kicking Mitrofan off your throne, what then? Who's to say you won't fall into that same trap?"

    "I most certainly will not!" thundered Leonid.

    "Hmph. Your actions belie you." Trahaern remained unimpressed. "You could not complete Fachtna's training. You could not rise to the occasion, even when reminded that passing the training meant we would give you aid. You brazenly gave a challenge to Chief Fachtna you could never win. A year and a half later, and you don't appear to have changed at all."

    "I could say the same about you!" Leonid yelled back. "You are as apathetic now as you were then. Is it any wonder that in an era of extreme drought, you have not answered your people's pleas? If you are a ruler who understands it all, then explain the feuding chieftains of Dálriada and Annwyn!"

    "Hmm? What's this?" Yuliya murmured. She and the other Selenians noticed that both Trahaern and Scáthach suddenly looked more serious.

    "That area has been a breeding ground for rebellious behaviour. Any day now, it could turn into something more substantial." Leonid suddenly had a second wind, and seized on the opportunity it presented. "You should have dealt with this problem at the core, but you have allowed it to fester and now feuding has spread to neighbouring tíortha. At what point will Breifne descend into riots and looting? At this rate, it's going to happen!"

    "You cannot talk! You, whose nation rose up against you!" Suddenly Trahaern's composition fell away. "Cónaíonn tú i dteach gloine! Do not speak to me of rebellion when you were brought down by that very thing!"

    "That does not change your own standing! You call me a tyrant, yet you exhibit those signs yourself!"

    "How dare you, you vile little-"

    "Alright, enough!"

    The outburst came from Scáthach. Trahaern and Leonid halted their bickering, both of their gazes turning to Alba's tánaiste.

    "Please don't argue," she said. "It's not fun to listen to."

    "Hmph. Tell that to this upstart." Trahaern pointed his trunk Leonid's way. "Daring to insult the Archdruid and our chieftains, right in front of us!"

    "You're right," Scáthach acknowledged. "That was kinda rude of you, Leonid. You really shouldn't say stuff like that, especially when Ca has a way of knowing these things. It could come back to bite you, like it did for others who made an enemy of them."

    "Tch…" Leonid would've retorted, but he gave an annoyed huff instead.

    "But Trahy…he has a point." The Archeops turned her attention to the rí. "Alba really isn't in the best of shape right now. With this drought, we really have had problems securing food and water. It's made things all the worse when it comes to Dálriada and Annwyn. They've always been at each other's throats, but the drought's made it worse than ever, and their raids are nearly constant. If we ignore them, then problems are gonna spread, and we'll lose the goodwill of other chiefs."

    "Don't be paranoid about them, Scáthach," Trahaern criticised. "All the other chiefs' backing is very much assured."

    "I don't know about that. Ca's had some unnerving feelings as of late," Scáthach said. "We need to stop those two chiefs before things get any worse. We have enough on our plate as is; we don't need rebellion on top of it."

    "Hmm…" The mention of the Archdruid gave Trahaern some pause. He seemed to consider the words of his tánaiste, before he gave a decision.

    "Very well. You've made a good point, Scáthach. We must deal with this scourge directly, and I know of a way to put them in their place." He paused for emphasis, before continuing.

    "Prince Leonid - you will be the one to quell this matter. You and your Selenian companions."

    "...How did I know you would say that?" Leonid grumbled.

    "So you have perception after all," Trahaern muttered. "You will head out tomorrow morning. All the instructions will be given then."

    "Hold a minute. Have I not a say in this?" Leonid objected.

    "No, you do not," the Copperajah shut down. "If you want Selenia's rot to continue, then by all means deny me and keep aid beyond your reach."

    "Hmph," Leonid uttered, but he said no more than that.

    "You should be grateful, Prince Leonid, for I do not give second chances often. Hear this seanfhocal from Laighean - 'Tugann taoisigh cneasta dhá sheans, ach ní thugann ach amadáin trí cuid.' In your tongue, this would translate to, 'Honest chiefs give two chances, but only fools give three.' You would do well to keep this in mind.

    "If you succeed, we shall talk more on the matter of aid," the rí continued. "But you must succeed in quelling this threat to peace, and if you fail, the outcome will be the same as your continued insults to my name."

    "...I understand." Suddenly, Leonid became more serious. Reluctance remained, but he understood Trahaern's warnings.

    "That is all there is to discuss for now. Finish your meal."

    Trahaern's words were final. No conversation took place for the rest of the meal, the clinking of cutlery filling the air instead. The task ahead of them weighed on the Selenians' minds as they finished off their food.

    Before long, all the plates were clean, and Trahaern stood up.

    "You are all dismissed. We shall speak more on your mission in the morning. Scáthach and I will see to the necessary preparations." The Selenians took his order as a missive to leave, and they obeyed.

    Once they were all out of earshot of the Copperajah, Arian was the first to speak.

    "We gotta quell a revolt?" he said. "How? We're only ten people!"

    "Quit your complaining. We have no choice in the matter," Leonid replied. "If we want Alban aid, we must help them before they help us. A basic gift of reciprocity - one you should be quite familiar with as mercenaries!"

    "Hey! That's not how it is at-"

    "Arian," Elvira interrupted. "I get your complaints but we can't really argue our way out of this. We just have to buckle down and hope we have what it takes to do this."

    "Do you think we can?" Arian looked worriedly among his companions.

    "I've quelled small-scale revolts before," Yuliya said. "But that was with Trokhym's help. I must admit my unease in this too. But…if it's for my tsesarevich and country, I'll see it through." She put a paw to her chest.

    "Thank you, Yuliya." Leonid turned back to Team Elpis. "Get some rest. You need to be at your peak tomorrow. I will not tolerate failure, and nor will Trahaern."

    "Gotcha," murmured Arian halfheatedly. "Come on, Elvira. Let's go." With that, the duo left to return to their guest room.





    With Team Elpis gone, that left Leonid, Carwyn and Yuliya on their lonesome.

    "Come with me, Yuliya," Leonid suddenly said. "We need to talk."

    "Oh? Of course, Your Highness. What do you wish to talk about?"

    "Follow me." The Bisharp began walking, followed by the six Falinks. Yuliya followed after them, through the hallways of the Rí's Guild.

    Eventually, they found their way to a balcony. Thankfully, it was empty, giving Leonid peace of mind to discuss a pressing matter with Yuliya.

    "It is good to see you again, Yuliya," the prince began.

    "Likewise, Your Highness," the Furret returned. "You said there was something you needed to speak to me about?"

    "Yes. A pressing matter." Leonid looked at her right in the eyes. "You might have noticed there is…someone missing."

    "Svetlana." Yuliya suddenly realised. "Your Highness? Where is she?" A note of panic entered her voice, fearing she knew the answer. "Why is my sister not by your side?"

    Leonid didn't answer immediately, pausing as he took in a long breath and gave a sigh.

    "Gone."

    "Gone?" That one word struck Yuliya's heart like a knife.

    "Svetlana disappeared whilst we were in Mirionydd, in Ceredigonia. It was the middle of the night when I woke and noticed she was not in her bed." The regret exuded from the Bisharp as he told the tale. "Around that moment, I saw a shadow on the windowsill. I feared it to be an assassin, but then they jumped out the window. I gave chase across rooftops, but I did not get far. My puny Pawniard body could not keep up."

    "Did they kidnap Svetlana?!" All composure had evaporated from Yuliya.

    "I do not know. But in my haste, I had forgotten the fractured state of Mirionydd. Before I realised it, I was swarmed by a gang of bandits. I had trespassed on their territory, and they paid me back by beating me within an inch of my life."

    He winced at the memory. "I truly thought I was going to die. If not for Carwyn, who nursed me back to health, I would not be standing before you today."

    "Heavens above…" The Furret turned to Carwyn. "Thank you for saving His Highness."

    "Much obliged, ma'am," C acknowledged.

    "In that moment, Svetlana was lost to me. I was forced to go on to Alba without her, for staying in Mirionydd became all the more risky when more fighting broke out the next day by one of their revolutionary gangs. I left the city in the turmoil, and travelled to Breifne with a group of refugees. They were taken in by the Alban Church, while I went directly to Rí Trahaern."

    "So that's who those people were," Yuliya said. "They were Ceredigonian refugees…"

    "Innocent people who wanted to escape the subjugation of Cunobelinus, their praetor. I do not blame them one iota," Leonid said.

    "But Svetlana…" A tear dripped down Yuliya's cheek, and she began to sniffle. "My sister!"

    "Let your tears out, Yuliya." Leonid looked down, his fists clenched. "The fault is mine. I should not have been so careless."

    The Furret was too emotionally overwhelmed to take in those last words, and fell to the ground as the trickle of her tears became a torrent. Sobs erupted from her, as she cried for her missing sister. Leonid stood by her, making sure that she had an outlet for her anguish. The loss of Svetlana weighed on his conscience, and he felt a crushing sense of failure from it.

    This is the least I can do for her. I could not keep Svetlana safe, but Yuliya is still alive. The closest person to family I have left…I have to keep her safe. I must.





    The Empyrean Mountains reached their lowest peaks at Ardalion's north. The land here was arid and dry, and the difficult terrain made it hard to carve paths through the mountains. The thin soil cover made it difficult for crops to grow, though some berries thrived as they did in just about any ground.

    In some parts of Dresilia, they called this region 'the final reach of civilisation'. Alba called the region 'ár dtír caillte'. It was a haven of lawlessness, often met by harsh law and order from the region's ruling authority.

    This was Ceredigonia. It was either a province of Dresilia, or a tír of Alba, depending on who one asked. The right of who owned the land was hotly contested, and many wars had been fought on its soil.

    Both nations wanted that land so they had a buffer against which to guard against the other nation. It had changed hands a number of times over the years, but Dresilia had held it for most of its history, and continued to do so to this day.

    However, while this border was the most fortified in Ardalion, with well-guarded forts lining just about every mountain pass and road that led westwards, there was rarely a moment of security. Alba had long since winded down full-on invasions, but small guerrilla armies sometimes slipped through the cracks and attacked the Ceredigonian authorities that way. And beyond that, there existed those of Alban blood within Ceredigonia's borders, who assisted and launched their own attacks in the region.

    Safe to say, it was quite a headache for the Druddigon praetor that led this region of conflict.

    Cunobelinus sighed in annoyance as he read a report he had been given. Another attack in Merionethensis, the biggest town in the province of Ceredigonia. This time, it was on a visiting official, and yet again it was the actions of Ruthless Wrecker Fachtna's mindless followers who were responsible. Those same agitators who vandalised the 'Merionethensis' signs and painted 'Mirionydd' over them, the same who claimed Ceredigonia belonged to Alba. Ever since he'd taken over the praetorship of this troublesome province, they'd been nothing but a thorn in his side. By the sounds of it, it had been the same story for his predecessors.

    "Alban-blooded scum," he growled. The news did get better near the end; thankfully; the attackers had been apprehended, and were currently being interrogated. Then they'd be taken to court, be declared guilty and imprisoned for life. As was customary for lowlifes of their sort.

    I'll let the magistrates deal with that nonsense. Cunobelinus filed the report with the others that were on the right side of his desk. Now then. Onto other matters.

    He took other sets of parchment that had been handed to him. These were a bit different - instead of reports, he was given a pair of posters instead, along with a letter.

    The posters depicted a Riolu and a Treecko, with the word WANTED written on the top of both posters. He read the details, but nothing stuck out to him. They were Selenians, apparently, and enemies of the tyrant Mitrofan.

    "Sels," he scoffed. Why should I care about the antics of those savages?

    Then he peered at the letter that accompanied the posters. The writing was one quite familiar to him.

    I saw these two in Breifne. Apparently, they're looking for their lost prince. They're definitely the same ones that Dommy's looking for.

    The letter was signed with a heart, with a serpentine trail illustrated trailing off from the heart's bottom. Cunobelinus couldn't help but smile upon seeing it.

    The sooner I can pull you out of there, the better. It pains me that you have to be surrounded by scum like them. But you're strong. You can do this, my girl.

    He looked back at the posters, at the Riolu and Treecko pair.

    Whatever did that shadow want with these two? he pondered, frowning in puzzlement. They don't look that strong. So how could they vex someone like Mitrofan? And why does Dominian want them, exactly?

    "Not like it matters," he growled. "Anything to tempt Fachtna from whatever sandy hole he's hiding in. And perhaps…this may just be the bait to lure that sand-dweller in."





    Notes

    And now we see our fair prince at last.

    The name 'Dubhrua' translates to the Irish names for 'black' (dubh) and 'red' (rua), the same colours as a Bisharp.

    Leonid describing the situation as a 'Mythymnan Rapidash' is a in-universe equivalent of a 'Trojan horse' i.e. something presented seemingly out of goodwill only for the giftee to be betrayed in future.

    Merionethensis is the Latin name for Merioneth, a Welsh county. Similarly, Mirionydd is the Welsh name for Merioneth.

    Glossary

    Dyna ddigon! - "That's enough!" in Welsh.

    Cábóg - An Irish word for 'lout' or 'greenhorn'. Generally used in a negative context.

    Gàrr-laoch - Scots Gaelic for 'villain'.

    Brostaigí - "Hurry!" in Irish. The suffix 'aigí' is normally said as a command in the Irish language.

    Cónaíonn tú i dteach gloine! - 'You live in a glass house!' in Irish.

    Seanfhocal - 'Proverb' in Irish. Translates literally as 'old word.'

    Ár dtír caillte - 'Our lost country' in Irish. Though it means 'tír' in the Alban context, meaning that it would be their equivalent of a province.
     
    Chapter 29 - Animus Festering
  • Arukona

    A Scribe Penning His Brainworms
    Location
    Ardalion
    Pronouns
    He/him
    Partners
    1. aggron
    2. sceptile
    Chapter 29
    Animus Festering

    "Urgh…" Arian let out a yawn and wiped sleep from his eye. Another early morning, and yet the Riolu still hadn't fully adjusted to the new routine of waking before the sun rose. Elvira was in a similar state, bleary-eyed at having to get up before dawn.

    But the knocking at the door reminded them that they had a task before them. Elvira walked to the door and opened it.

    "Good morning, Team Elpis," Yuliya greeted.

    "Morning, Yuliya," Elvira said. "So…we head to Dálriada and Annwyn today?"

    "We do, indeed. His Highness and Carwyn are waiting in the foyer as we speak." The Furret looked in that direction. "I'd advise we move as soon as possible. His Highness does not like to be kept waiting."

    "Right." Arian stifled another yawn as he moved toward the door with Elvira.

    It was another quiet morning, strolling through the Guild's hallways. Arian's ears could hear muffled noises from some of the dorms, as other mercs were getting ready to start their day. Was this what the old Irian Guild was like? he thought. This whole getting up at the crack of dawn schtick? It's kinda what our life was like underground…but I kinda want to experience it officially. Maybe we'll get that when we beat Mitrofan…

    "You're late." A stern voice cut through the Riolu's thoughts. They had arrived in the main foyer, and there stood Leonid and Carwyn. All six of the Falinks circled him, ready to defend him from an attack. As well as that, Scáthach was present, standing on a nearby perch.

    "We're not that late," Arian defended.

    "Hmph! The latecomer's stock response," scoffed Leonid. "Tardiness is inexcusable. One minute can mean all the difference between seizing an opportunity and missing it. Perhaps even the difference between life and death."

    "Just what's that supposed to mean?" The Riolu sounded almost indignant at what the Bisharp might be implying.

    "Arian!" Elvira whispered sharply, nudging his side.

    "Oh. I-I mean, sorry we're late!" Arian quickly changed tack. "It won't happen again."

    "As it should be," the Bisharp huffed. "Now then." He turned to Scáthach. "You said there were some matters that needed briefing before our departure, Tánaiste?"

    "Yep!" Scáthach nodded, before she took out a map. "You'll be headed to a village called Tairbeart, around here." She gestured to a location in the middle of the Alban desert, in the western half of the country. "You'll meet with the chief of Dálriada there. Her name's Eilidh Tunlaire Mhic Riada, and she's an Excadrill."

    "I have heard the name," Leonid murmured. "Ever warring with her opposite number, Chief Uther Brynmor ap Eigyr of Annwyn."

    "But why are we meeting with one of the rebel leaders?" Arian pointed out. "Aren't they…you know. Suspicious?"

    "For once, I agree with him," Leonid said. "I have long since tired of being stabbed in the back by people who swear they were my ally. Who's to say this will be any different?"

    "We've been in talks with her for a while now," Scáthach explained. "She was more willing than Uther, who hasn't shown a bit of compromise. And we got assurances from her that there would be no backstabbing."

    "I'll trust an assurance from a filthy rebel when this land freezes over," growled Leonid.

    "Don't get your cape in a twist, Prince Leonid," the Archeops said. "We've got it worked out! Don't worry if things go south out there. We've organised a little back-up plan."

    "Hmph. And just what is this 'back-up plan', exactly?"

    "...That's a secret." Scáthach winked at him.

    "I beg your pardon?" Leonid was displeased. "Do not leave me in the dark!"

    "Trust me, Leonid, it'll all work out," the Archeops assured. "I'd love to tell you, but…I think it's better we keep that a secret for now. Gotta be off, though. That paperwork won't write itself. Hee hee!"

    Before the Bisharp could protest, Alba's tánaiste was off to tackle that day's duties.

    "That was weird," Arian said.

    "Tch! What a farce this all is." Leonid shook his head in annoyance. "It can never be simple with these tribespeople and their quarrels. How vexing…"

    "There is no use complaining, Your Highness," Yuliya said. "If we are to free our land, then we must help Alba first."

    "...Very well. If we must…" With a flick of his tattered cape, Leonid turned to head for the entrance. "The taxi awaits us at the dock. Come," he called out to Team Elpis, who followed after him. The prince's armoured feet clinked against the stone floor, while Carwyn moved in tandem with him. Yuliya followed close by, with Team Elpis trailing behind them all.

    As they walked into the still morning air, Elvira began to whisper to Arian, now that they were out of earshot from the rest of the group.

    "Arian," she whispered. "You really shouldn't be criticising Leonid like this."

    "But Elvira, he's being completely unreasonable!" Arian whispered back.

    "Not completely. He's a prince with high standards, and it goes without saying that you don't backtalk to people like him," the Treecko went on. "Besides…he's our prince. It would be an incredible morale boost if we could get him home. So please, Arian. No more."

    "...Fine," murmured Arian. But his thoughts still remained on Leonid, and as he watched the Bisharp's advancing figure, his lips curled in annoyance.

    If only we didn't have to rely on him of all people…

    The group walked across the Istwyth bridge to the taxi dock. A number of taxis were lined up, with a number of mercs awaiting the call for clearance for takeoff. A Granbull saw the group approach.

    "Ah, Prince Leonid," she said. "Your taxi to Annwyn is waiting over there." She pointed to where an Aerodactyl trio sat atop a carriage noticeably bigger than the rest.

    "I see. Thank you." With that, Leonid strode forward towards the carriage, with his allies quick to follow.

    The three Aerodactyl were inspecting the carriage as the group approached. Immediately, they turned to face them.

    "Well, if it isn't Himself!" one of the Aerodactyl called out to them. "And cúpla cairde of his as well!"

    "Goin' over to Annwyn to put some smacht on those two chiefs." The second one chuckled. "How much you all bettin' that we'll be bringin' skeletons back to Breffy?"

    "I'd bet my flying licence on it!" the third one shouted, to roaring laughter from the other two.

    "Excuse me!" Leonid cried out indignantly. "Do you know no shame? Is this how Alba's taxis operate, badmouthing their passengers behind their back?"

    "Hey! We're not doing that," the third Aerodactyl defended. "We're telling it right to your face instead! Big difference right there!" More belly laughs from the three fliers.

    "Ye really wanna go over to those two tíortha and tell 'em to can it?" the second Aerodactyl questioned, once the laughing had died down. "Even fightin's not shuttin' them up these days."

    "Eh." The first Aerodactyl shrugged. "It's his funeral, not ours. We're just here to ferry folks around. What he does is his problem; all that matters is we get paid at the end of the day, right?"

    "Would you quit jabbering and allow us to enter?" Leonid cut off, irritated. "We have a mission to carry out! One sanctioned by the rí, no less!"

    "Alright, alright, don't get your princely britches in a twist, now." The first Aerodactyl went to the side and opened the door. "There ye are. Now get in. We'll be ready for takeoff soon."

    Carwyn was the first to enter, three of them entering the carriage. They gave the all clear, and after that, Leonid, the other three of Carwyn, and Yuliya boarded. Arian and Elvira were about to board, but before they could, a voice called out to them.

    "Wait, wait, waaaaaiiiiiit!"

    "Hm?" Arian looked over to see a familiar sight. A familiar Dragonair was slithering towards them. "Sabrina?"

    "Oh…thank the rí you hadn't left yet," Sabrina panted. "I've got a prezzie for you, Arian!"

    "For me?" Arian tilted his head. "What is it?"

    "It's from Yannie, actually. He thought this might help you out. But he's not around to give it, so here I am instead!" Sabrina fished into her satchel, before pulling out a small package. "There you go!"

    "...Thanks." The Riolu took it from her.

    "Don't thank me, thank Yannie! He got it for you, after all," Sabrina said. "Now you really will be strong and cute! The two best things when put together!"

    "Oh, er…th-thanks, heh heh..." Arian muttered sheepishly, still unsure how to take the Dragonair's words. He could feel his cheeks beginning to heat up.

    "Hurry up!" Leonid's voice called angrily from the carriage. "Get inside! We cannot dawdle any longer!"

    "Oop, gotta go," Arian said. "Thanks for coming, Sabrina!"

    "No problem! And good luck with your mission today! Hopefully Prince Grumpyblades can get that steel pole out of his arse," Sabrina chuckled. "Anyway, bye!" With that, she turned, and slithered away, while Team Elpis boarded the carriage.

    "Tch. More holdups," Leonid muttered in annoyance.

    "It would not have mattered," Yuliya told him. "The Aerodactyl aren't finished with their pre-flight checks. We still have to wait."

    "I wish they would hurry up. The sooner they finish, the sooner we can leave and sort this mess out. Messes that I have to clean up instead of Albans who created their own problems in the first place…"

    The group sat and waited. A few minutes later, the Aerodactyl were ready, and with the flaps of three sets of wings, the carriage was soon airborne in the Alban sky.





    "Thunder Punch and Ice Punch?"

    Arian stared in mild shock at what was inside the package Sabrina gave to him. There were a few seeds - blast and stun seeds, mainly, which Elvira filed away in their bag - but the main attractions of Yannick's gift were the two TM discs, one coloured yellow and the other light blue.

    "That's quite generous of him," Elvira commented. "He must really think you have potential."

    "We can't really test them out until we land," Arian said. "But there's no harm in learning them now." He took the Thunder Punch TM and pressed it to his head, before doing the same with the Ice Punch one. Now, he had two new moves at his disposal.

    Immediately, he started strategising how best to use them. Hmm, maybe I could combine the two of them to make an elemental combo attack! Ooh, that'd be cool! he suddenly thought, mentally filing away the idea to test out upon landing.

    That wouldn't be for another while, though. So Arian stretched out his arms and put his feet up on the table to relax.

    "Get your feet off the table," Leonid ordered, glancing up from behind the papers he was reading and glaring at the Riolu.

    "Fine." Arian replied, reluctantly obliging.

    "Hmph. Peasant." With that, Leonid went back to reading.

    Arian lightly growled, half tempted to put his feet back up on the table in defiance. But Elvira's request from earlier came back to him, and he kept his feet on the ground.

    If yesterday was anything to go by, the flight would take a few hours at least. Already, the Riolu had become bored. I should've brought a book with me or something. That would keep me occupied.

    His gaze fell on Prince Leonid, who was gazing at pieces of parchment. Intriguingly, Yuliya, as well as C and A, were looking at them too.

    "What are you looking at, Your Highness?" Elvira asked.

    "...Reports from the tíortha of Dálriada and Annwyn of raids and attacks on each other." Leonid did not look up from the papers. "Rí Trahaern gave them to me last night."

    "What about them?" Arian wondered.

    Leonid sighed, before laying them out on the table. There were reports among them, of scribbly writings detailing attacks, but catching Team Elpis's attention was the detailed map of western Alba. A number of Xs, of both red and black colours, were dotted on it, along with arrows connecting place to place on the map. Chief among the details were the names 'Dálriada' and 'Annwyn' in large letters.

    "What you see here are attacks on various villages around where Dálriada and Annwyn meet," Leonid informed. "The red marks Dálriada attacks, and black marks Annwyn attacks. These raids are carried out for purposes of gathering food and resources for the other, and have infrequently occurred between both tíortha. There has rarely been agreement between them except in times of strife. However, these attacks have seen a noticeable increase in recent months."

    "Because of the drought?" Elvira guessed.

    "Correct. Sometimes raids arrive home empty-handed with nothing to show for their efforts. Other times, reprisal attacks are carried out. Safe to say, this has resulted in considerable unrest in these regions, and if we do not quell this matter at the heart, then strife will engulf more of Alba. That is what Rí Trahaern and Tánaiste Scáthach fear the most."

    "So we have to stop all of this? Just the five of us?" Arian gestured to all of them. "But we can't do this all on our own!"

    "I am well aware of that. Calm yourself, you fool," Leonid scowled. "Defeatist attitudes will get us nowhere."

    "Forgive me for saying this, Your Highness," Elvira cut in. "But I'm not confident in this plan. There's a very real possibility we could be betrayed, and little to no backing going into this doesn't bode well."

    "Well, do you have another plan?" Leonid looked irked. "By all means, tell me. I would be quite interested to hear it."

    "I…" Elvira faltered. "I don't have one."

    "Do not protest if you cannot find an alternative plan, then," the Bisharp scorned. "The last thing I need is interference from Guildlings who think they know better!"

    "Hey!" Arian growled. "Elvira has a point! Don't you think talking to a potential rebel against the rí goes against what we're trying to do?"

    "...Oh Creator, why must I have been allied with such imbeciles?" Leonid muttered in annoyance. "Do you reject every solution that comes your way? I have no time for such attitudes! Shelve such defeatism, for we will never accomplish anything with that stance!"

    "Oh, excuse me, am I wrong for wanting to-"

    "Your Highness! Arian!" Yuliya interrupted. "Enough, the both of you! Let's not fracture relations before we've even begun this mission!"

    "Tell him to cease his empty criticisms," Leonid demanded. "If he cannot offer new plans, then he has no ground on which to stand!"

    "What's that supposed to mean?!" Arian growled.

    "In fairness to Arian…he has a right to be concerned," Yuliya admitted. "But Carwyn and I will shield you from any harm should we fall into any traps. I don't know of a better way to go about this. The reports seem to suggest that Chief Uther is the primary instigator of these raids, so it would be best to go against him, I think. Nonetheless, we should try and resolve this matter as peacefully as we can."

    "I doubt we will get far with that line of thinking, given the bloodthirst of some Albans," Leonid said doubtfully. "But we shall try anyway. Diplomacy comes first."

    With that decision made, the five continued to deliberate the plan as the taxi made its way to the two rebellious tíortha.

    As they travelled, Arian felt a knot forming in his stomach. The plan Leonid was going with, along with the possibility of negotiating with threats to the Alban state, gave rise to doubts within him - of the plan, of the prince and of the rebellious tíortha.

    Here's hoping that nothing bad happens…





    The sun had passed its mid-afternoon peak by the time the taxi landed in a small village in Dálriada. The settlement stood at the foot of knife-like mountains that formed jagged contours on the Alban landscape. Mountain passes bore through the hills like cavities in teeth, and a rocky path stretched from the village towards them.

    The three Aerodactyl prepared to land their taxi at the side of the path, just outside the village. . There was no standalone dock there like in Teamhair or Breifne; this place appeared too small and rural for that.

    "The village of Tairbeart," Leonid said, as the taxi touched down. "Rural even by the tír's standards. The chief's main residence is in Steòrnabhagh, to the north of here. Truly a backwater, this place. No wonder they despise the rí, with how far removed it is from Breifne."

    "Yeah…" Arian replied. He certainly got that feel; even Teamhair looked much more elegant than this. Stone houses along a dusty strip of road was all it was. This looked to be as rural as it got in Alba.

    Upon looking at the village, however, the group found themselves surprised by its population; there were more people here than the group would have expected of an isolated village like this. Many of them turned toward the new arrivals, and made their way over.

    Arian tensed. Please don't attack us, please don't attack us…

    "Well, now. Who do we have here?" a Bombirdier cooed, flying up to them. "A Bisharp and his motley band…Are you Prince Leonid of Selenia, by any chance?"

    "Indeed," Leonid proclaimed. "I am he."

    "Formal, aren't we?" the bird chuckled. "I'm Labhra Mhèirlithe Mhic Riada, aide to our chief. She's in this crowd somewhere. Over there." She gestured to an Excadrill wearing a similar chieftain's garb to what Team Elpis had seen on Féilim. They were the most eminent among the group of villagers, and everyone looked to her for leadership.

    Inferring from this, the group were able to determine just who this Pokémon was.

    "You would be Chief Eilidh of Dálriada, I presume?" Leonid asked.

    "Aye, that's me." Eilidh's voice was deep and commanding. She stepped forward to meet the Selenians. "…So ye lot are the brammers the rí sent to me tír." She gave a mirthful chuckle. "Mus' got his own problems if he's takin' Sels tae cull his enemies."

    "Hey!" Arian growled. "Don't look down on us Selenians! We're made of stronger stuff than you think!"

    "Ha! Look at yon feisty wean!'' chuckled the Excadrill, leading to laughter amongst her fellow clansmon.

    "Hm." Leonid's gaze narrowed. "As fun as this repartee may be for you, Chief Eilidh, we have business to attend to."

    "Aw, canna we have a bit o' banter?" Eilidh requested. "Some wee words hurt no one!"

    "No," Leonid denied. "Those 'wee words' can wait until after this business has been settled."

    "Yer no fun." The Excadrill pouted. "...But ye're help. So please. Lend us a hand, will ye?" She then took another glance at the Bisharp. "Or a blade tae ye. D'ye bide as a berry chopper in aul' Breff at all? Take it here," she said, holding up one of her drill hands. "Cookers crave sharp hauns like ours! Ahahaha!"

    More laughter from her fellow clansmon. Leonid's stolid expression remained unchanged.

    "Are you finished?" he said, once the laughter died down.

    "C'moan, have a laugh!" Eilidh tried to encourage. "Bein' a sourpuss'll put years on ye! Cannae be healthy bein' like that!" She pointed to Leonid's frown.

    "...I was under the impression you wished for aid, Chief Eilidh." Leonid folded his arms, his eyes full of scorn. "This was an arrangement organised by Tánaiste Scáthach herself, that I would meet you here and we would discuss the current circumstances of your feud against Annwyn. But if ridiculing me and wasting my time is your opening salvo, then perhaps I should pay Annwyn a visit instead."

    "Oi! Come off it, prionnsa! I was playin' with ya!" Eilidh protested. "Dinnae go to those Annie bastarts!" Her lips pursed in anger. "Nae after they killed a lotta folks in these parts, all tae steal th' wee scraps we have!"

    An angry snarl had begun to form on Eilidh's face, a sudden change from her playful attitude seconds before. A shift in demeanour took place among her clansmon, and mixed looks of anger, jadedness, and sorrow came across their faces.

    "So I have been told." Leonid crossed his arms. "And you claim the clansmon of Annwyn were the one to begin it all?"

    "Och aye!" proclaimed the Excadrill. "Annie's been at us like fuckin' Ninjask, beatin' our folks, pillagin' us and makin' off with our food! Then our lot cannae eat, and that isnae anythin' good!"

    Murmurs of agreement were muttered by Eilidh's fellow clansmon. Now that their attention was focused on them, Arian and Elvira noticed a fair amount of them looked scrawny. Even Eilidh herself didn't look as healthy as chieftains normally were - certainly not when compared with Féilim. A pit formed in their stomachs as they realised the reality of what they were looking at.

    "Ye'd know it, widnae ye?" Eilidh said. "Sellie had quite a hunger in its old days, when those East wallapers sucked ye dry like a Leech Life. Surely ye can lend a hand or two?"

    "...You are sincerely lucky the fate of my country rests on this, otherwise I would've turned you away in light of that earlier snub," Leonid huffed. "But no matter. Merely point to where these perpetrators are, and we'll snuff them out."

    "The Cnoc Dearg Caves in yon hills." Eilidh pointed to the hills in the background. "Annie bastarts hole their arses in there, and use it tae attack th' folks in th' glens below! Tairbeart here was raided just a day ago!"

    "Aye, we did!" a Dunsparce raged. "They tanned yon windows and stole our food! An' they killed Maighstir Teàrlach!"

    "Dinnae forget they got our water!" A Vigoroth shook their fist. "There's uisge fuarain in yon caves an' we cannae get tae it 'cause those Annie bastarts are in there!"

    "We cannae let this stand!" a black-furred Tauros proclaimed. "Can we, Maw?"

    "No, we cannae, Fionnlagh!" Eilidh said. "That's why I'm here, to get 'em Annie shites oan their feet an' outta me tír!"

    "Very well. We'll set forth on this matter without delay," Leonid said. "Annwyn will not know what hit them."

    "Belter!" A grin spread across Eilidh's face. "Well, oan ye go. We winnae keep ye frae tearin' those Annie fucks' throats out!"

    "We do not operate with such barbarism, Chief Eilidh," Yuliya politely chided. "But rest assured that we will help you in your plight."

    "Good lassie. Now go ye oan!" The Excadrill pointed to the mines. "Th' Annies are sleekit bastarts. Get 'em intae a corner and sock it to 'em!"

    "I presume you have our back in this matter?" Leonid pressed.

    "'Course, aye!" Eilidh assured. "Ye'll be th' vanguard. Quick strikes tae 'em, an' then us lot'll follow."

    "Hmm." Leonid's gaze narrowed, but he said no more on the matter. "Very well. As you wish." He turned in the other direction. "Carwyn! Yuliya! Arian! Elvira! You heard Chief Eilidh. So hop to it! Especially you two!" He directed this at Arian and Elvira.

    "Y-Yes, of course, Your Highness!" Elvira stuttered.

    "Sure thing, Your Highness." Arian's lips curled into a mild pout.

    "Let us away, then." Without another word, Leonid began to walk towards the mountains, with his motley brigade of Selenians in tow.

    Once they were gone, Eilidh let out a sigh.

    "What a wee dafty," she muttered, before turning to one of the houses off to the left. "Ye can come out now, lassie."

    There was the thump of a creaky wooden door opening, and out stepped a familiar Nidoqueen.

    "Hmph," Ludmila huffed. "You could've pulled that off more convincingly."

    "Och, I didnae ask," Eilidh fired back. "For Lando's sake, I asked ye fer help. Do ye wan' that when I'm banríon or what?"

    "...I didn't say I wouldn't help," Ludmila replied. "But I'd be careful if I were you. You saw the Riolu and Treecko, didn't you?"

    "Aye. Got een, all of us."

    "They're tenacious. There's a reason Master Mitrofan has them among his most wanted," the marshal explained. "They may be small, but that's no reason to underestimate them. Mark my words - they're going to be a handful."

    "Psh. They won' be sayin' that once we got 'em in a corner!" Eilidh punched her fists together, before turning to her clansmon. "When I give th' signal, we'll go after 'em intae yon caves."

    "Of course, Chief!" Labhra obliged.

    "Aye, Maw!" Fionnlagh said.

    "Aye, Chief!" the other clansmon yelled.

    Ludmila observed them all, inwardly shaking her head.

    This is Metody's job. If only he wasn't such a judgemental ass…


    "Ouch!" Arian winced as a sharp stone wedged itself between his paw pads. "Ow ow ow ow…"

    "Arian!" Elvira quickly examined her partner's foot and removed the offending rock.

    "Thanks, Elvira." Arian then looked with distaste at the particularly rocky road that lay ahead of them, heading into the Cnoc Dearg Hills. "Some road this is. Why haven't they maintained it?"

    "Perhaps they do not have the resources," Yuliya suggested. "And with the supposed hunger in this region, maybe the clansmon simply do not have the energy to keep maintaining this rural, mountainous road."

    "That's normally the case," A pointed out. "What, were you expecting something like the Príomhshráid in Breifne?"

    "Some expectations you have," snarked W.

    "Aren't you meant to resist this kind of thing?" R asked.

    "H-Hey!" Arian protested. "I don't like walking barefoot on ground like this! That's all!"

    This response drew blank looks from the rest of the group.

    "...I beg your pardon?" Yuliya cocked her head, not sure if she'd heard correctly.

    "Arian…everyone here is barefoot," Elvira pointed out.

    "I-I know." The Riolu looked down, to hide his growing embarrassment. "Doesn't mean this ground is good."

    "Of course not! But you don't see us complaining, private!" C said. "Have some backbone and march!"

    "Whatever, General," Arian huffed in annoyance.

    "That dissension I hear, private?!"

    "Why do you care about me?! Stick to your own damn troop!"

    "Silence!" Leonid bellowed, immediately shutting up C and Arian. "Do not speak to Carwyn in such a manner, you lowly mercenary! Fall in line and respect those above you!"

    "The hell do you mean by 'above me'?" These words struck a nerve in Arian, and a low growl came from behind his gritted teeth.

    "Now you realise it," Leonid said. "How have you not already, you fool?"

    "Grrrr…!" Arian had half a mind to dash forward and sock the Selenian prince right across his face. However, a pleading look from Elvira held him back, and he curled his fists instead.

    "Let's just keep going," he said.

    "Exactly. Now move!" ordered Leonid.

    Arian obeyed him. But the anger from the previous argument continued to cloud his conscience, and he kept his jaw clenched.

    As he stewed in his irritation, not helped by the blazing hot temperatures, he recalled recent words from a certain Gabite.

    "Honestly, I sometimes wonder if you even need the guy."

    "Big question over whether this Leonid has what it takes. By what our Chief was saying, he sounds like he doesn't have it at all."

    "Would you not just look for someone else at that point?"


    As they began to climb into the hills, Arian looked at the prince in question, Enfys' words rolling around in his head.

    …Should he really be the one to lead us? I'm beginning to question that myself.





    The group travelled through more rocky and unstable ground. It was a tough trek, not helped at all by the blazing hot sun above them. The heat was especially oppressive today, and there wasn't any breeze to be felt.

    "There is a saying in Alba for days such as this," Leonid remarked. "Scoilteadh na gcloch - meaning 'splitting the rocks' - which formulates how peaks like these hills are formed." He gestured to the rocky landscape around them. "Between the hot sun of the day and the stark cold of the night here in Alba, the rocks are faced with two forces of nature, and buckle under that duress, creating the landscape before us."

    "You certainly know much, Your Highness," praised Yuliya.

    "Hmm. Never did I think that geography knowledge from my tutors would be of use." Leonid gazed around at him. "Then again, I would hardly have anticipated I would be doing this."

    "So we're looking for a set of caves, right?" Arian said.

    "Precisely," Leonid said. "There are trails throughout the Cnoc Dearg Hills for clansmon in surrounding areas to collect springwater in the caves below this. Little water exists on the surface apart from oases, but there exists plenty of it underground. A godsend for parched areas like this away from the Istwyth."

    They travelled a bit more, before C suddenly cried out.

    "There! An entrance!"

    Indeed, it was. Sighted far off was a gaping hole, like a cavity in the teeth-like mountains. The trail they were on led to it, weaving its way downwards down a rocky mountain path. There were signs of quarrying in the area around them, with straight cut ridges and piles of rock gathered in pits to their right.

    As they got closer to the entrance, both Yuliya and Carwyn looked around them, eyes out for intruders. Arian found himself doing so as well, and when he looked back at the cave entrance, he tilted his head in confusion.

    "That's weird," he said. "Shouldn't there be Annwyn clansmon there?"

    "I would imagine so too. Perhaps they lay deeper in the cave," Yuliya suggested.

    "Not a good sign if they are," C muttered. "On guard, privates!"

    They soon reached the cave entrance. It was surprisingly large, and given the crumbly ground beneath them, it was evident that it had been dug out so larger Pokémon could travel into the cave's depths.

    "Well, here we are." Leonid stared up at the cave mouth before them. "According to Eilidh, those Annwyn raiders have holed themselves up in here."

    "I suppose they would launch raids from here into villages on the plains below," Elvira considered. "And if there's water in here, that would make sense as to why they're occupying these caves."

    "Lives lay in the balance with these troglodytes in here," the Bisharp said, stepping into the cave. "Extricating such rebellious leeches from our conscience, that is our-"

    "Your Highness, look out!"

    Suddenly, two Klawf fell from the ceiling with a thud. They stood up quickly, claws clicking aggressively.

    "Damnation!" Leonid hissed. "Barely a step in and already we've been ambushed."

    "Yer not gettin' through here!" the first Klawf said. "This is our turf!"

    "The people of Dálriada would beg to differ." Leonid stood his ground.

    "Lying scum Dollies!" the other Klawf clicked. "You with them? Then you're our enemy!"

    Without another word, he fired a barrage of rocks from his claws. Carwyn quickly moved to block the incoming Rock Blast.

    "Everyone, engage!" Yuliya called, and she, along with Arian, Elvira, and Leonid, got into battle stances.

    Arian, closest to the right Klawf, went after him, a Force Palm ready.

    "Hi-yah!" He dived under a swipe of the crab's claw and socked him with an uppercut.

    "Oof!" the second Klawf cried. "Little runt! Take this!" Metallic claws met Arian's face as the Riolu was shoved away.

    But right after, a ball of green energy was slammed into the Klawf's face. Some of that returned to Elvira, who prepared another Giga Drain in her hands.

    "Bah! Two little 'uns!" he growled, before conjuring a rock and throwing it at Elvira. The Treecko dodged out of the way in time, and fired her Giga Drain at the crab.

    The Klawf reeled back, and before he could even process that attack, he suddenly found himself on the receiving end of a Shadow Claw, courtesy of Yuliya.

    The Furret, with the help of some of Carwyn, had run rings around the other Klawf, who lay heavily beaten up and looking fearfully over at his partner.

    "Crap, they're tough!" he said. "We gotta warn the others!" The two of them scurried away, deeper into the caves.

    "Should I chase them, Your Highness?" Yuliya asked, ready to dash after the Klawf pair.

    "No," Leonid said. "We need to stick together. Going off on your own would only be of greater risk to yourself."

    "Understood." The Furret nodded.

    "Now then. The Annwynites are in here." Leonid looked up at the cave mouth. "One wrong move could spell the end for all of us. Keep vigilant, for we could be ambushed at any moment. Especially you two!" He pointed to Team Elpis. "We don't need you giving us away."

    "Oh, for the love of-" Arian began, but Elvira spoke before he could follow up.

    "Of course, Your Highness," the Treecko obliged.

    "At least one of you knows to be obedient," Leonid snarked. "Now come. We must resolve this matter posthaste."

    The group took their first steps into the cave, Arian being the last one to do so.

    As they made their way in, a figure from afar watched them through its lone eye. The quarried area held leftover piles of rock, which made for a good place to hide.

    The eye belonged to a Sigilyph, who dipped his head behind the pile of rock.

    "They have entered the caves," the Sigilyph said. "Would it be wise to make our move now, Your Grace?"

    There was silence, before another voice spoke.

    "No, Cichol. We bide our time here for now."

    "...As you wish, Your Grace."


    Arian and Elvira fully expected the Cnoc Dearg Caves to be a Mystery Dungeon. But to their surprise, it was merely a normal cave - nothing odd about it at all.

    "Huh." Arian looked around them. "I was totally expecting this place to be a Dungeon."

    "Same," Elvira said.

    "Thank heavens it isn't," Yuliya replied. "That would only complicate matters all the greater if it was. Insurgents of this nature would use such an environment to their advantage."

    "That they would," Leonid scoffed. "Gamaliel is to blame for that. Back in the days of the Famine, he used Mystery Dungeons to his advantage. They worked well for his guerrilla-style combat, and such skulduggery was his forte. But now every blasted insurgent copies the name of our noble hero, and dives into Mystery Dungeons like the rats they are. How irritating that our hero's tactics are being used and twisted for such inevitable failures."

    "Hm." Arian's ears pricked in surprise. "Didn't think he'd be praising Gamaliel of all people," he whispered to Elvira.

    "Gamaliel is a national hero," Elvira whispered back. "Even nobles respect him for what he did, even if he was a poor 'mon with a streak of immoral tactics."

    "Enough whispering, mercenaries!" Leonid's sharp words brought the duo out of their conversation. "This cave is dark. I need a light!"

    "Can you not see in the dark?" Arian asked. That had been one new ability he had gained as a Riolu, and it was one he was thankful for.

    "No, I cannot," the Bisharp snapped. "Why else would I be asking? Do you have a luminous orb on you?"

    "We do," Elvira mentioned, bringing the round orb out of the bag. She stepped forward, and smashed it. Bright light emerged from the orb that made everyone cover their eyes. When they let down their arms, they found the cave had been lit up, and the darkness from before had mostly vanished.

    It was a far cry from the caves of darker stones back in Selenia, or even the calcite-ridden limestone caves in the Kartslands. It was comprised of rust-coloured rock, and small stalactites hung from the ceiling. Stalagmites protruded from the ground, and a number of stone pillars formed where the two met.

    "Huh. Kinda pretty," Arian remarked.

    "We are not here to sightsee, Arian," Leonid huffed. "This is the time to keep your wits about you. Don't you dare lose your attention over some rocks!"

    "I won't!" the Riolu hissed.

    "Both of you, enough!" Yuliya shushed. "The Annwynites could hear us if we argue too loudly. They could well be waiting to ambush us. You are right, Your Highness; we must be observant, and not lose focus for even one second."

    The Furret took the initiative and scampered forward, scouting ahead for any Annwyn clansmon hiding out in the caves.

    "Get to the back," ordered Leonid. "Y, N, keep an eye on them."

    "Yes, Your Highness!" the two Falinks obliged.

    No conversation was had for the next while as the group trudged their way through the caves. The group's footsteps echoing off the cave walls being the only accompaniment to fill the gap in conversation.

    Arian, however, could feel the gazes of the two Falinks on him, and couldn't help but grit his teeth. For fuck's sake, he thought. We're not going to stab him in the back! We already told him this! And yet still he insists on having his men watch us. He curled his fists.

    It's for Selenia. It's for Selenia. The Riolu reminded himself of this, and let out a sigh. Thoughts like this wouldn't help him, not when they needed to cooperate. Focus on the mission at hand, and save bickering for after this is over.

    The path through the caves was well-worn, and had the prints of many Pokémon of all different shapes and sizes, along with their respective scents. The tunnels carved through the caves were low-hanging, and Leonid had to stoop to get through some passages. For once, Arian found himself thankful for his short height.

    Still kinda wish I wasn't a half-pint, he thought. Maybe I should try and see if I can evolve. How do Riolu evolve? Something about bonds? I'll need to check that again.

    He broke off from those thoughts as the group happened across an intriguing sight. They had reached a point where the path suddenly widened out towards the cave's centre. It looked almost like…

    "A riverbed?" Elvira said. "It looks…dried out."

    "Quite likely," Yuliya surmised. "It shows all of the signs of it. The ground appears dry though, so…perhaps there was an ancient river that flowed through these caves."

    "Those clansmon mentioned there was a spring here, didn't they?" Arian said, recalling the conversation back in Tairbeart. "I can't imagine there'd be much water to share around these parts."

    "No, indeed." For once, Leonid was in agreement with him. "Desperation is what makes the distinction of morality blur, and for some, they would do anything if it meant saving their own skin. Even if it means depriving whole villages of their sole source of water." His face was grim. "We must rectify this at once."

    They continued walking along the dried riverbed. The amount of footprints were the same as they were earlier in the cave, and the scents from before still remained. Arian and Yuliya, however noticed one major change - the footprints seemed fresher.

    "We're getting closer to our target," the Furret said, as the group walked to an open part of the cave. "It shouldn't be long before—"

    "Fire!"

    Without warning, a blast of fire suddenly erupted from the darkness. It was far enough away that Yuliya and Carwyn saw it coming, and the former moved to take the hit for the latter.

    "Urgh!" she cried, feeling the flames lick her fur.

    "Yuliya!" Leonid cried. "Are you alright?"

    "I'm fine." Yuliya felt the now bare patch of fur on her midsection.

    "We're under attack!" C declared. "Action stations, soldiers! Protect His Highness!"

    "Sir, yes, sir!" the rest of the Falinks yelled in unison, moving into formation around the Bisharp.

    "Damn!" cursed Arian. "They got the drop on us!" He scanned the cave around them, finding it to be full of small knolls and burrows. Many Pokémon were lying in wait there, eyes piercing through the knolls, locked onto their foe. "They must've been waiting to ambush us!"

    "Go at them!" called a gruff voice. "Those Dollie bastards won't take this spot!"

    "We're not Dálriada!" Arian yelled back.

    "Lies!" the same voice shouted. "C'mon, men! Show 'em Dollies what we're made of!"

    "Yes, sir!"

    The Selenians suddenly found a variety of projectiles being fired their way, with rocks, sand, and fire being the most prevalent among them. Carwyn moved quickly to block any Rock Blasts that came Leonid's way. Unfortunately, they couldn't defend everyone.

    "Ow!" Elvira cried as a Flame Burst struck her.

    "Elvira!" Arian's face morphed to worry, and then anger. He reached into the team's bag, taking out a blast seed.

    "Take this!" he yelled in fury, throwing it at one of the areas where the flames had come from. The blast lit up the cave more, and several cries of pain sounded from the enemy clansmon.

    Arian ran forward, his teeth bared in anger and his fists brandished. He felt a tingling feeling, and he looked down, seeing sparks dance at his paws. Now's as good a time as any to give these moves a test run, he thought, running forward and slamming his electrified fist into his nearest opponent - a Minior - which was thrown into a wall. The starry Rock-type hovered in place, dazed from the Thunder Punch.

    "Arian!" Elvira's voice called from behind him, and the familiar light of a Giga Drain struck a stone Yamask nearby.

    "Gah! Who the bloody hell are you?" the ghost cried, startled. "You're not Dollies!"

    "No, we're not," Elvira said. "But we can't let you continue to occupy these caves and deprive Dálriada of water!"

    "They started it!" the Yamask hissed. "They raided us first! They-"

    They were interrupted by a punch from Arian. The bone-chilling Ice Punch knocked the stone Yamask into the wall, and they slid to the ground, unconscious.

    "We're not done yet!" Arian ran back towards the Minior and leapt up into the air. Sparks danced around his fist as he slammed it into the ground from above. The Thunder Punch did them in, and the Minior fell unconscious, just like their Yamask partner.

    "Right, that's them done. Come on, Elvira!" Arian punched his paws together. "Let's help the rest of them out!" He then immediately ran off.

    "Arian, wait!" Elvira called, chasing after him.

    The Riolu didn't pay attention to his partner, instead focusing on the enemies in front of him. The cave had become awash with sand, almost like a mini sandstorm, and the sounds of combat filled the air. There was also fire, and in its light, a familiar Furret and six Falinks clashed with Annwynite clansmon. However, Arian also saw something he wasn't expecting.

    "Fools!" Leonid's commanding voice echoed through the cave. "Underestimate me and perish!" He dashed forward, slashing at his Heatmor opponent.

    "Yaaagh!" To Arian's shock, it actually did a number on the anteater. "Who the 'ell is this brute?! This is that twywysog brat?!"

    "The very same!" Leonid's blades lit up, and he unleashed a duo of diagonal slashes on his opponent. The Heatmor cried out in pain, before falling to the ground in defeat.

    "Wow…" Arian couldn't help but be impressed. So he won't sit back and force us to do all the work. That's pretty ni-

    "Arian, look out!"

    Unfortunately, Elvira's cry couldn't save the distracted Riolu from an incoming gout of fire, which struck him square in the side.

    "Argh!" Arian hissed, feeling the fire burn at his hip. "Ow ow ow ow ow!"

    "Serves ya right!" A Magmar came forward, his beak aglow with flame. "This is our turf! Bloody Dollies tryin' ta take what's ours!"

    He spat another Flame Burst at Arian, the Riolu quickly rolling out of the way. However, he couldn't escape the small embers that stung him in the aftermath.

    "Don't hurt my partner!" Elvira yelled, running at the Magmar and lunging at him, colliding with him in an attempt to knock him down. Alas, it was no good; the Annwynite simply batted her away with his fist, coated with fire.

    "Nrgh!" Elvira winced as she fell to the ground. "It burns…"

    "Elvira, stay back!" Arian looked at his partner, realising she was at a disadvantage in this scenario. "I'll handle him!"

    "Stupid mutt," growled the Magmar. "They don't call me Firebird Culhwch for nothing! Take this!" He coated his fist in fire and prepared to strike. Arian readied his own Thunder Punch, and their fists collided in a combination of fire and lightning

    Arian quickly found Culhwch to be physically stronger than him. But then he remembered the fight with Yannick back in Mumhain. Quickly, he swung and delivered a kick to the Magmar's stomach.

    "Urgh!" Culhwch had no time to react before Arian slammed an uppercut into his jaw, knocking him back. The Riolu didn't let up, taking advantage of his opponent's daze to slam another Force Palm into his chest.

    "Argh! You little shit!" Culhwch was livid. "Men! Kill that Riolu now!"

    "Sure thing!" a nearby Boldore said, readying an attack. It wasn't just the Boldore; at least five other clansmon had attacks readied, and Arian could sense the heat and sand from behind him as they prepared to strike.

    Crap! In his haste to chase after Culhwch, Arian hadn't realised he had placed himself directly in the line of fire of every mon in the ambush. He prepared to find a way to dodge, but …

    "Argh!"

    "Yeow!"

    "The fuck?!"

    "Little blighters!"

    "Damn you!"

    He didn't need to dodge. Six Falinks struck six of the Annwynite clansmon right before they fired their respective attacks. Several of the attacks missed their mark, while others were forced to swallow their fire, coughing heavily in the process.

    That was all the rest of the group needed. Leonid leapt in, a flurry of Night Slashes cutting into his opponent. Yuliya was similarly slashing at surrounding clansmon with Fury Swipes. Elvira jumped in, firing a Giga Drain at the Boldore and regaining some of her energy. Carwyn regained formation, before splitting into two legions of three and rushing two other clansmon.

    I gotta help them! Arian ran into the fray, a Force Palm readied, before slamming it into a nearby Houndour. The dog yelped in pain, and had no time to react before the Riolu struck him with a Thunder Punch, causing him to lay on his side in pain.

    Culhwch looked upon the scene with alarm. Gone was the determined bravado he confronted Arian with; now fear took its place.

    "Shit, this is bad!" he cursed. "Alert the Chief! We got some tough folks in here, and they're not your average Dollie!"

    "Yes, sir!" A Wattrel quickly flew off deeper into the cave, before the Magmar ran after them.

    "Wow. So much for Firebird Whoever." Arian smirked at the sight.

    "The Chief?" Elvira was more interested in what the runaway Magmar had said. "The Chief of Annwyn?"

    "Plainly," Leonid scoffed. "Who else could it be? Annwyn has no allies to call upon at this juncture."

    "I wouldn't have thought the Chief of Annwyn would be here of all places," Elvira said, slightly hurt at Leonid's scoffing remark.

    "Well, good thing he is! Now we can uproot this matter at the heart!" the Bisharp declared. "After them!" He pointed in the direction Culhwch and the Wattrel had gone.

    "Yes, Master Dubhrua!" Carwyn quickly assembled back in position and began to sprint on their stubby legs. Leonid made more elegant strides, his tattered cape flapping as he ran. Yuliya ran forward as the vanguard, while Arian and Elvira brought up the rear guard.

    A thought suddenly occurred to Elvira.

    "Wait!" she cried. "Shouldn't we be more careful? We could be ambushed again!"

    "And miss out on the chance to dispose of this rebellious filth?" Leonid was in disbelief. "Absolutely not! This is the time to strike! I will not tolerate any baulking from either of you! If you wish to die as fools, then be my guest!"

    Elvira didn't argue back. But Arian suppressed a snarl as the group headed deeper in.

    There he goes again! What an ass. He makes our enemies look like saints. If only I could punch his stupid face in…!

    "Stop!" the Riolu growled to himself. I can't keep thinking this. He's an ally, he's an ally, he's an ally, he's an—

    "It would appear we have arrived at the spring."

    Yuliya said this as the group came to an area where the cave opened up into a big ceiling. Stalactites of varying different sizes hung from the ceiling, including a huge stalactite, its massive size causing the Selenians to stop and gaze at it in wonder. The cave's colouration had also changed to a darker bluish hue, a stark difference from the rusty red they had seen thus far.

    Leonid looked below, and his expression turned grim.

    "Look at that." He pointed his right blade downwards, and the rest of his allies looked down to see that the floor below them was swarmed with various Annwyn clansmon. One of them from earlier, Culhwch the Magmar, was talking to a Cradily.

    The group had thought they were hidden from sight, and thus did not expect what would happen next.

    "Come on, Sels! Come down and fight like proper 'mons do!" the Cradily suddenly yelled, making most of the group jump out of their skin.

    "Eep!" cried N. "Wh-What do we do, Your Highness?"

    "Quite simple," the prince said. "He wants a fight? Then that's exactly what he'll get." Before anyone could argue otherwise, he got up and made his way down the path towards the chief of Annwyn.

    "The fuck's he doing? He'll get us all killed!" Arian muttered in annoyance, before running after the prince.

    "Arian…" Elvira followed her partner, her face dotted with concern.

    His compatriots followed him, Carwyn surrounding him as before and Yuliya leading the vanguard.

    They reached the bottom, where a spring of water lay. The riverbed they had been walking on earlier had led to it, and it looked frighteningy dry. Not much water remained behind it.

    In front of the spring lay Pokémon of various different shapes and sizes, including Culhwch from before. Prominent among them was that same Cradily, draped in a similar fancy clothing to Eilidh's. It didn't take much deduction from the Selenians to figure out who this was.

    "Well now…ain't this a sight? I'd never imagine you of all folks would show up here of all places. Prince Leonid of Selenia, eh?"

    "Indeed, it is I," Leonid said. "I would say it would be a pleasure to meet you. But Uther Brynmor ap Eigyr, chieftain of Annwyn…today, my comrades and I have come to put you down."





    Notes

    Tairbeart is the Scots Gaelic name for Tarbet, a village in Argyll and Bute, Scotland.

    Cnoc Dearg translates to 'red hill' in Irish.

    Also, many thanks to Owry and StarFalcon555 for beta reading this chapter.


    Glossary

    Cúpla cairde - 'couple of friends' in Irish.

    Smacht - 'control' or 'discipline' in Irish. In this case, putting smacht on someone means bringing them under control.

    Prionnsa - 'prince' in Scots Gaelic.

    Uisge fuarain - 'spring water' in Scots Gaelic

    Príomhshráid - 'Main Street' in Irish.

    Twywysog - 'prince' in Welsh.
     
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