Tak tak tak!
Lyn pulled the flat of his blade back from tapping a set of metal plates in front of him and ran his paw over them, before looking up at a set of four masts with lavender sails towering overhead. It was definitely Darzin's ironclad, even if he'd hardly imagined that he'd
already be captaining it.
The Samurott watched as the ship's deck and gangplanks hummed with activity, and then off at the surrounding piers which were filled with Pokémon going about. It was hard to believe that the military harbor had already been cleared up after that whole episode with the Siglo Swellow just a couple days ago. Even if a few docks were still unusable from damaged ships, it was already bustling and back to something approaching normalcy again.
Lyn climbed up one of the ship's gangplank, as Pokémon, many of whom he didn't recognize, went about tending to rigging or crates of supplies in a hurry. As they should, since the Director expected them to hit the high seas as soon as the ship was fully crewed and stocked. Everyone seemed to be doing something towards that end… well, except Ketu, who was leaning on his arm against the railing a few paces away from the frontmost gangplank, and idly watching Lyn as he passed by.
"Had to pinch yourself to make sure you weren't dreaming, huh?" the Weavile teased.
"Hrmph, the ship's not mine
yet," Lyn reminded. "I just wanted to make sure that we knew the ins and outs of this 'Wyrmwind' before we took it out to sea."
Ketu tilted his head, before pinning his ears back with a quirk of his brow.
"'Wyrmwind'? You're seriously going with that?" he questioned. "You don't exactly scream 'dragony' to me as a captain."
"It's what the name on the hull says, doesn't it?" Lyn replied. "We have bigger issues to worry about right now than whether or not the ship's name suits me."
The Samurott's eyes took on a steely gaze, as he walked up and peered down with a stern frown at his Weavile first mate.
"Though that actually reminds me, Ketu," Lyn said. "There was something I needed to have a word with you about."
"Yeah?" the Weavile asked. "What's up?"
The otter's expression remained every bit as serious in reply. While Lyn had never been one for jokes, Ketu took it that there was something that'd been bothering him.
"You never did give me an explanation for why you weren't with the crew when we pushed off to intercept Lugia in the lagoon a few days ago," Lyn said. "Where were you?"
Ketu's face fell into a frown, before rolling his eyes with a quiet sigh.
"I
thought that we already went over this, Captain," he answered. "I was with Sorge and the others and lost track of time when we ran into Lugia and Zygarde in the city. Things got out of control, Lugia escaped, and I wound up missing the boat because of it."
"Then why was Ellsberg there as well?" Lyn pressed, cocking a brow in reply. "You two haven't exactly been particularly close to each other, and I can't imagine he knows Team Sentinel himself."
The Samurott narrowed his eyes briefly, before continuing on in a low, wary tone.
"Is there something going on that I should know about, Ketu?"
Ketu blinked back wordlessly for a moment, before closing his eyes and answering with a dismissive shrug.
"Eh, you got me. I'm actually the spy you're looking for," the Weavile replied. "We all decided to get together and plan out the best way to stab you in the back."
A tense silence lingered in the air afterwards as a smug grin came over Ketu's face. Lyn's frown deepened, before Ketu burst out into laughter. Lyn let out an annoyed groan, and grit his teeth with a sharp growl.
"Ketu, can you take things
seriously for once?!"
The Weavile wiped away a tear as he finished laughing. As he calmed down, his features quickly took on a more serious demeanor.
"Alright, alright… to answer your question for real: Ellsberg was there because he wanted to get to know Team Sentinel better," the Dark-Type explained. "They got along well on the trip back from Buyeom, especially him and Aldrich. We figured it'd be nice to try and spend some time together when we
weren't worried about missions or getting our hull shot out from under us."
Ketu eyed Lyn carefully. He didn't
think Lyn had gotten wise to his
actual assignment on his crew, but with the way the Samurott kept asking questions about what he'd up to lately… maybe it was best to give him a bit more misdirection than just a "joke".
"Though you're definitely more high strung than normal," Ketu remarked. "What's gotten you so on edge?"
Lyn fell silent and lowered his head as his eyes drifted towards the deck's timbers. There was a brief pause, before the Samurott let out a low sigh.
"I… suppose that it's just work stress getting to me," he murmured. "It's my last chance to complete my mission for the Board, and just knowing that the spy on Buyeom is still lurking out there…"
Lyn trailed off briefly, before shaking his head and giving a low grunt to clear his thoughts.
"I'll just rest easier once we get the Guardian of the Seas back from those pirates," the Samurott said. "It'll be nice to finally put this saga behind us and start thinking about the future again."
Ketu raised a brow. 'Thinking about the future'?
That was certainly new coming from Lyn. Knowing him, it'd probably just be lording over his new seat as an Administrator or something about buying back that place in Canalhouse City his family once owned, but…
What could he already be thinking ahead towards when he didn't even know yet what his first assignment as an Administrator was going to entail?
Ketu paused after feeling a heavy paw nudge at his shoulder, looking up to see Lyn looking at him from the corner of his eyes with a stern frown.
"Just make
sure you're there this time when we go to collect Lugia," Lyn insisted. "There's not a lot of margin for error for our mission, so I can't afford to have you go missing again."
Ketu pinned back his ears and stifled a groan of his own. Right, he was still
here because he hadn't managed to take Lyn out of the picture yet. At least it would surely be straightforward to snatch Lugia out from under him once Sorge and the others managed to talk their way aboard Lyn's expedition. They just needed to get Lyn's guard down first by finding his "spy" for him.
After they were done, he'd
finally no longer have to play a fool in front of Lyn to preserve his cover, and it couldn't come a moment too soon. Just a couple more days, the Weavile reassured himself. And his role in this farce would finally be over.
"Yeah, I get it," Ketu grumbled. "I'll be there, don't worry."
The Weavile drifted off further down the deck while Lyn turned around and began to make his way towards the stern. Along the way, he spotted a pair of deckhands stumbling briefly with a crate and dropping it on the deck, the lid jostling off to reveal it was packed with Apricorns. The deckhands briefly bickered with one another over who was at fault, only to abruptly silence themselves and stiffen up at Lyn's approach.
"I see all the shot I asked for came on time," Lyn said. "Try and at least
pretend that you're handling it carefully."
Lyn watched as the deckhands hastily saluted before gathering up the crate and drifting off into the crowd. The Samurott continued along with a satisfied huff as a knowing smirk came over his muzzle.
"After all, we'll
need it."
The journey from the Elders' meeting chamber took Team Traveller down a hallway to a flight of stairs watched over by a pair of guards clad in segments of cloth and mail. Pleo blinked at the sight of the armored guards as Margi and the rest of their entourage shuffled them along down the steps that seemed to just keep going and going. Occasionally, there'd be heavy doors blocking the way with another pair of similarly armored guards standing watch. Every time, the guards would tense up at the sight of the young Protector, only for Nina to talk them down and have them open the door, before they'd continue on deeper into the earth.
"H-Huh?!"
Except this time, there were no further stairs, but a long hallway lined with torches. There were painted images on the walls, while off in the distance was some sort of dead-end. Pleo and his teammates stared blankly as Nina and Roderic made their way in, the Lugia blinking and gaping about as Margi and the other guards started to lead them down the strange hall.
"Where are we?" Pleo wondered.
"I'm… actually not sure," Margi replied. "I admittedly didn't know that this place even existed."
"Our town's Hall of Remembrance," Roderic answered. "It is a place where we remember the past and ensure this town's survival for the future."
Pleo and his companions traded confused glances with one another. Crom brought a claw up to his mouth uneasily, and he turned his attention back to Nina and Roderic.
"What… does that mean, exactly?" Crom asked. "How would any of this help you survive?"
"See for yourself."
Nina motioned down the hall at the strange door, prompting Pleo and his companions to squint and try and make it out. After studying it a bit, they realized that the door they were looking at looked almost like the one in the Vault, just with more rust coating its surface.
"It's… a door?" Pleo asked.
"It's a seal. Over the place where the egg of this island's demon rests," Roderic explained. "A lesser demon, called 'Jirachi' who maliciously tempts others with the promise of granting wishes."
The four froze and had their jaws fall agape at the Rotom's explanation. Even Margi and Ander seemed visibly taken aback as their eyes widened and they reflexively shrank away from the sealed door. Trizano stared at the door blankly for a moment, before he tried and failed to beat his wings out, spluttering in indignant protest as he fought against his ropes.
"B-But you can't
do that!" Trizano squawked. "Whatever you think of Jirachi, no good could come from harming a Protector like this!"
"… We know that," Nina said. "That's why it remains sealed away."
The Typhlosion turned, and leveled a paw down at Pleo with a piercing scowl
"It's also why we brought you here," she continued. "So that way you could understand
why there is no hope for us to make cause with you."
Pleo sucked in a sharp breath and began to backpedal nervously. Had Nina and Roderic had brought them down to push
him behind that 'seal' as well? A brief shadow fell over him as he saw Ander in front of him, holding out a scythe between him and Nina as he seemed to be visibly weighing his words.
"High Elder, with all due respect, but these are unprecedented circumstances," the Scyther began. "I… know that it's a risk to accept the help of a being like Lugia, but he very genuinely doesn't seem to mean anyone harm. Just what exactly is this argument you have against him?"
Nina gave no reply to Ander and stepped forward, brushing his scythe aside with an unimpressed scowl.
"Hrmph, have you not read the Scripture of Truth, Scyther?" the Typhlosion scoffed. "Though if you are really so unversed in the dangers of such creatures in spite of being one who sees the truth, just take a look around you."
Nina raised a paw and motioned off at the walls of the chamber. Crom followed after her paw as it quickly became apparent that the colors and shapes along the walls were various pictures with lines of what looked like Unown just beneath them. They appeared to depict Pokémon of all shapes and sizes on them, many of them in the backdrop of chaotic-looking scenes.
The Druddigon tensed up at the sight of the pictures, before warily turning back at Nina and Roderic.
"What is all of this?" he murmured.
"The story of how Starbreak Square came to be," Roderic said.
The Rotom floated up towards the leftmost mural and settled on it as Nina pushed fire out of her body's vents for illumination. As Crom and his companions approached the painting, they noticed that it was a scene of a simple-looking village by a river. All sorts of Pokémon were present in it, intermixed alongside hazy figures with bodies that looked vaguely like a Machoke's. Why, it didn't feel that different from everyday life back in Bluewhorl Town. Everywhere he looked in the scene, there were Pokémon and those strange creatures just working together much as he and the townsfolk would back home.
"Long ago, our world had vast continents and seas which spanned the whole planet. A world where untold multitudes of Pokémon lived, one which they shared with creatures that didn't wield powers like we do," Roderic began. "Crafty creatures who thought in ways that you and I would find alien, and who were able to work miracles because of it. It was a world where even Pokémon who were weak and ones that didn't belong could make cause with those creatures and lift each other up."
Crom and his teammates carried along past the mural of the village, when the Druddigon stiffened up after seeing the next picture. It was a mural of a burning landscape showing a white, hooved quadruped with some sort of golden ring around its waist emerging from a rift pouring out pink mist in the background. Large creatures of various shapes could be seen in the foreground in front of it, laying waste to the surroundings. At the center of attention, there was a ruined village with those humanoid figures and Pokémon looking up in a panic as a black and red bird with sinister, dull blue eyes descended upon them.
Crom blinked at the sight of the creatures. He recognized the white figure as Arceus, but most of the others were unrecognizable. Or at least they were until the Druddigon noticed that there in the background, amongst lighting and stormclouds, one of the figures was a white, long-necked bird with blue spikes.
It dawned on him afterwards what the different figures were: they were the Old World's Protectors. Or at least, the way the Marked remembered them.
"But our ancestors' world had a fatal weakness. It had a weakened boundary with the Abyss, a place where thoughts and dreams become flesh and blood," Roderic continued. "And so it was that during a time of great turmoil, the Abyss spawned the great Archdemon, who came from that fell place and fashioned servants with which he subjugated our world."
Pleo shifted uncomfortably at the picture before Margi prodded him to continue on. He shuffled along and soon enough, he and his companions came to the next mural. It was a scene depicting a red and gold bird with green wingtips, standing in the midst of a shattered village. A throng of humans and Pokémon were gathered around the strange bird bowing and prostrating themselves. At the fore was a small group of humans and Pokémon, bearing offerings of food while visibly frightened, all while the creature sneered down at them with an almost predatory gaze.
… The Old Gods couldn't possibly have been like that, could they? He wasn't
really some 'demon', was he? He certainly didn't
feel like one…
And yet, after thinking back to their own experiences on Boisocean, it was clear that something had happened long ago to make the Marked think that.
"Yes… Margi told me a story like that," Pleo replied. "She said that humans discovered magic and that they discovered that Arceus and other Pokémon like me were demons. Then afterwards, they got into a fight where the Old Protectors destroyed the world while the humans tried to fight them off…"
The others turned and stared at the Hydreigon as she uneasily cleared her throat, before speaking up in an audibly flustered tone.
"I- I suppose that I
did tell him that, yes," she said. "Though aren't we just seeing things that are already recorded in the Scripture of Truth? I was under the impression that this was the story of Starbreak Square in particular."
"Our history comes from that same history recorded in those scriptures, Hydreigon," Nina answered. "We'll get to the details that are more particular to us in time."
Margi fell quiet with an expression that looked much as if she'd just been scolded. For a brief moment, Pleo couldn't help but worry about whether or not he'd gotten her into trouble, only for them to start moving along again. He and his teammates continued down the hall until they reached another mural a little further down. In the center of it, high above everything, was a brilliant red star with a ray of light coming out of it amidst a burning landscape. When he and his companions followed the beam's path with their eyes, they noticed that it ended by running through a green and black serpent that looked much like Kline did back on Vollezee. One who appeared to be recoiling in stunned pain. There were other figures they didn't recognize that laid strewn about the ground, all in poses that suggested they'd been suddenly struck down.
Pleo stared at the picture uncomfortably for a moment, before turning back to Nina. He supposed that if Nina and the other villagers genuinely thought that he and the other Protectors were demons that this awful scene would be a
good thing to them, but…
"I… don't know if I believe that the old Protectors were really awful like you say they were," the Lugia said. "But I know that you do and that Ander does. Though even if they were, I just don't understand why it means that we can't work with each other…"
"It's because of what came after," Nina remarked. "After what remained of life in the Old World retreated to the Cradle."
Nina raised a paw as another mural came into view: there was Arceus again, but this time reared up as pillars of light rained down from the heavens. All around, the surroundings seemed to be in disorder: mountains crumbled, the skies were choked with ash and storms, and the fog of Mystery Dungeons spilled out here and there. In the foreground, there were Pokémon fleeing a village, a few looking back as their surrounding world collapsed.
Pleo felt a chill run down his back at the mural, and was quietly thankful that Nina didn't stop to explain the picture before she and Roderic moved on.
The next mural depicted a group of weary-looking Pokémon at a beach with gray and dusty land behind them and towering storms in the background that stretched on across the horizon in a seeming wall. In the foreground, the Pokémon were shown gathering on the backs of swimmers and onto simple rafts pulled with tow cables. Pleo thought to ask what was going on in
this scene, only for Nina to keep walking on to the next one, which depicted the same Pokémon from before warily looking out at their surroundings at sea under blue skies. Right next to it, there was another mural in which the rafts and swimmers had arrived at a beach with their passengers stepping off in awe. Other Pokémon were present in the background, who seemed to be at work putting together half-finished huts and piers.
Nina and Roderic paused briefly, before the Rotom of the pair motioned at the mural and began to speak up to explain it.
"After the Archdemon put an end to the presence of humans in our world, small bands of Pokémon braved their way through untold trials and hardship from the chaos the demons foisted on us in their dying rage," Roderic said. "It should've been a time when their true nature was laid bare for all to see."
Nina looked away, and let her eyes fall to the ground as her voice came out in a bitter, faltering murmur.
"And yet… so many
didn't."
The next mural was a picture of an island with a towering mountain on it partly wreathed in snow. On it, Arceus stood on a bluff watching as ships gathered on the shore below where groups of Pokémon gathered around eggs, some of which were fairly large. A few of the eggs were being shown in the process of being brought aboard different ships, and one, with an egg on its deck, was even sailing off into the water. Like with the strange bird in the mural with the ruined village, the Pokémon seemed to cringe and shrink away when they were under Arceus' gaze. But elsewhere in the same mural, some of the Pokémon were paying reverence to the eggs with them.
Crom blinked at the scene. He vaguely remembered stories that some of the first ships that had been built in the Cradle were used to bring Protectors' eggs to the islands where they incubated, except… he didn't recognize
this island in the mural at all.
"… Wait, what
is this place?" Crom asked.
"Shennow Island. The island that is located in the center of the Cradle," Roderic answered. "It was said to have been formed from a throne of the Archdemon in the Old World, and it was the place where he created the eggs of all the demons that slumber in this world."
"And of the ones who have already awakened and currently walk in our midst," Nina growled, training a piercing scowl over at the young Lugia in the group.
Trizano blinked back at the Typhlosion and narrowed his eyes with a bewildered tilt of his head.
"Wait, but Shennow isn't even in Anyilla," the Skarmory protested. "What does this have to do with your situation here?"
"Because this place was founded in the wake of the Sigillating Wars," Ander explained, shifting his wings in place uneasily. "It affected
all of the Cradle. Not just Anyilla."
"That's correct," Roderic remarked. "It was because at the time, the truth managed to endure and become known by a large body of Pokémon across this little sliver of the Old World which we live in."
Crom looked on as the murals seemed to change as they continued walking along. There was a mural depicting a banner being raised over the now-finished town with a design that looked similar to the ones on the scarves of Starbreak Square's guards. In the next one down, a Charizard stood up before a crowd of onlooking Pokémon in the town's square and seemed to be giving some sort of impassioned speech. The mural after that had Pokémon from the town boarding ships, some wearing armor bearing the same design from the banner, which also flew from their sails.
Crom blinked at the sight and turned towards Nina and Roderic as they stopped. They were at the 'seal' now, and the pair had serious expressions. He thought to ask what was going on, when Roderic raised a tendril and pointed off at the opposite side of the hallway.
"Despite the Archdemon's attempts at manipulating our civilization in infancy to mold meek and obedient servants, he was unable to fully smother the truth. In spite of it all, those among our forebears who remembered the truth of what happened during the end of the Old World recorded it and passed it along to their descendents," the historian explained. "It is their efforts that allowed us to understand just how much those demons who exalted themselves as 'gods' had wounded our world."
Team Traveller started to retrace their steps and noticed that the first murals on the return path from the door all carried a disquieting, oppressive air to them: masses of Pokémon locked in fierce battle, Pokémon being wounded and others laying strewn about limply on the ground on beaches. Others had scenes of burning fields, ruined towns, or ships in battle with each other at sea with Pokémon falling overboard and others struggling to cling to floating wreckage. The scenes grew troubling enough that Pleo wound up turning his head away from them entirely with a cold shiver. He peered up afterwards, and saw Roderic looking down at him with a small frown.
"Our ancestors were fiercely opposed by the Archdemon's acolytes, both Civilized and Feral," the Rotom explained. "And yet we prevailed, enduring and discovering that in his arrogance, the Archdemon sought to recreate the order he had in the Old World. An order in which he had inner circles of particularly high servants."
"One which if cut down, would leave him vulnerable and unable to exert his influence," Nina finished. "It was our last, best chance to finally be free of the Archdemon's influence. To destroy him and try and pick up the pieces of our world."
Nina trailed off, the Typhlosion's gaze drifting towards the ground as a tired, deflated mood seemed to settle over her.
"
Was, anyways."
Crom wasn't sure what to make of Nina's reaction, when he noticed that they'd reached another mural set on a towering mountain. On it, two armies were locked in a fierce battle, one with that same sigil he saw in the earlier murals depicting that seaside village, while the other was made up of Pokémon with different colors or symbols that fought beneath Arceus' gaze. There were five others beside Arceus, all armored figures that had a sinister air about them, with one of whom Crom recognized to be a Staraptor.
… Was that supposed to be
King Aquila?
"Shennow Island has a particularly treacherous Mystery Dungeon on it," Roderic said. "One where the Archdemon had formed and kept the eggs of a trio of particularly powerful demons."
The Rotom floated and turned his head over at the mural, before looking away with a buzzing sigh.
"Our ancestors marshaled a great force on that island to destroy them, and were opposed by the five Champions of Corruption that the Archdemon conjured from the sky. Including the one you call 'King Aquila'."
Crom didn't know what to say back to Roderic after that, only to stop after reaching the next mural. It was a painting of a ruined temple with white pillars surrounded by fog in all directions. The Charizard from the earlier murals was there again, breathing out fire onto a trio of eggs set out onto an altar, with King Aquila looking on in shock from the ground and raising a wing.
What… on earth were they looking at? The Druddigon turned over to Nina and Roderic and noticed the two were deathly quiet, and looked away with bitter frowns.
"In spite of it all, our heroes made it to the cusp of victory," Roderic said. "And against all odds, they found and destroyed the demon eggs they set out for."
Pleo, Crom, and Trizano's eyes all shrank to pins at the Rotom's words and they collectively turned to Ander with alarmed grimaces. The eggs had been
destroyed? How was that not a disaster in and of itself?!
Strangely, Margi and Ander both seemed entirely unmoved. And something wasn't adding up. For the Marked, wouldn't slaying their 'demons' be something they were proud of? Shouldn't Nina and Roderic be gloating or rubbing things in right now? Crom looked over at Nina, who motioned ahead off at an upcoming mural and shook her head with a low murmur.
"Except… our ancestors didn't realize that for all of their strength and valor, they were badly outmatched."
Crom continued on to the mural Nina was pointing at, but froze up with a sharp gasp when he saw it. The painting depicted a calamitous scene of Arceus in the sky as pillars of light rained down from the heavens. In the foreground, the Pokémon flying the strange banners from the earlier murals were in a state of disorder. Their ships lay burning and sinking, some of them were being engulfed in light pillars, others were being set upon by their enemies, still others lay strewn about the ground. Those that remained on their feet were fleeing, with terror on their faces and in their gaits. In a few places of the mural, there were Pokémon who were trapped and vainly attempted to shield themselves and others as they braced for their ends.
Just
looking at the painting made Crom's blood run cold and his stomach knot up in stress. He wouldn't have expected a fight with the gods to have ended well, but something about seeing its aftermath depicted like
this was downright chilling.
Crom turned over to Roderic and Nina, and saw that the pair looked visibly defeated. The Rotom of the pair sighed, before motioning off at the mural with a low buzz.
"The Archdemon himself intervened and made war against our ancestors, felling most of our strongest warriors on that rock and scattering those who survived his onslaught," Roderic said. "Even so, he grew afraid, realizing that those who knew the truth in the Cradle were still great in number and strong enough to be dangerous to him."
When Pleo and the others reached the next mural, they found a peculiar scene. One that showed a village full of Marked who all seem bewildered. Some pointed off at each other, some stared into mirrors, while others pawed at their heads. In the foreground, an Oshawott could be seen stooping down beside a pool of water, looking down bewilderedly at her reflection as she examined what looked like a five-tailed comet on her forehead.
It was then that Pleo realized that up until now, none of the Pokémon in the earlier murals had had Marks, but they did now. He turned back to Roderic to ask what the meaning of the change was, only for the Rotom to seemingly anticipate his curiosity and let out a low sigh.
"And so, after the Sigillating Wars, the Archdemon changed the fabric of reality so that it would brand those who knew the truth. The truth that your kind are demons who have come to subjugate us," Roderic muttered. "Once a Pokémon in this world comes to know and understand that truth, the Mark manifests on him or her, so that way they can’t hide from those who remain trapped in ignorance."
Pleo stiffened up. Then… the Mark
wasn't something that Pokémon were born with? He supposed it would explain the Chikorita that he saw earlier, but… why hadn't they ever run into any other Pokémon who'd become Marked without being born to Marked parents?
… Maybe they
had. His mind turned back to Sibich and how his pirates would steal eggs from Pokémon, and how his crew had a curiously large number of Marked on it. Nida had told him that the Cofagrigus basically treated his Marked underlings as disposable tools…
Had… he had a role in
making them in the first place?
Even so, if that was really what had happened, then something wasn't adding up…
"Wait, but then shouldn't it be possible for
grown Pokémon to also become Marked, too?" the Lugia asked. "If that's really the case, how come these Marks only form when Pokémon are young children?"
"They
don't just form when Pokémon are young children."
Pleo turned back and saw Margi pawing uneasily at her shoulder.
"I mean, I've never seen it for myself, but there's definitely records of the Mark forming on grown Pokémon," she insisted. "There just haven't been many events that have happened since the Sigillating Wars that can awaken grown Pokémon to the truth."
"Oh, it's happened a lot more recently than that," Nina replied. "This very town has witnessed it."
That one took Margi aback. She looked back stunned at the Typhlosion when Roderic bobbled in the air with what looked like a flash of discomfort, before cutting in with a sharp buzz.
"We saw it happen firsthand among the survivors from the Great Calamity," the Rotom said. "A number of them saw the truth after Conntow was laid to waste."
"And for their trouble, they were shunned by both the Empire and Company," Nina sighed. "There were no records surviving to prove their identities, so they were dismissed as charlatans with few willing to believe them and the horrors they'd witnessed. So, it fell to Pokémon like us to take them into our numbers."
Pleo stared blankly at the Typhlosion, when she let out a low scoff and looked away with a dismissive scowl.
"But really, what should we have expected from the descendants of Aquila and Adler?"
Pleo and his teammates paused and turned back to Nina in confusion. Trizano furrowed his brow, and turned his beak up with a defensive harrumph.
"And just what is that supposed to mean?"
"Come and see, Skarmory," Nina said.
Trizano trailed off as he and his group passed the next panel, coming to a scene depicting a Marked Tyranitar at a table reluctantly reaching out for a paper. On the other end of the table was a Staraptor with a crown, who leveled a cold, cruel stare in reply. There were other Pokémon on each end of the table. On the Tyranitar's side, there were other Marked who looked visibly defeated and frightened, and on the Staraptor's side, guards in indigo scarves and cerulean armor plates who shot back sneers and predatory looks.
Pleo lingered over the mural as he walked past it. It took him a moment to piece things together, but he realized that even if the details were a little different, that he'd
seen a picture like this before.
"Wait, what
is this picture?" Pleo asked. "I saw one like it back on Giotto, except the Staraptor and the other Pokémon with him didn't look so mean."
Nina raised a brow briefly at the Lugia's remark, as Roderic spoke up with a flat, emotionless tone.
"It's a mural of the day that our ancestors in Anyilla no longer had the strength to keep fighting after the Archdemon cut down their heroes," the Rotom explained. "The day that they were forced to yield to Aquila and become his vassals."
Pleo blinked uneasily and continued on with his companions onto the next mural, which showed a village with timbered buildings by the seaside and a tall mountain in the background. In it, there were Pokémon going about its lanes, both ones with and without Marks.
… Wait a minute, that shape of the mountain looked just like the one here on Gestirn. Was that village supposed to be Starpeak Square? Pleo would've never guessed that Marked once lived there from the way that they and the villagers talked about each other. Except, the Pokémon in the painting were already largely separate from each other, and the few places that they
weren't and were interacting with each other didn't seem like particularly happy ones.
It all felt uncomfortably familiar for some reason. Probably because those interactions seemed a lot like the whole episode with Ander and the other Pokémon who wanted him to 'meet his maker.
From the way Ander and Margi were looking away, Pleo supposed that he must've been onto something.
"It was Aquila who left us to be humiliated and shut out afterwards," Roderic said bitterly. "Treating us as a conquered people to be trodden and spat on."
Pleo didn't need any prompting before he continued on and reached the next mural, of a younger Staraptor arriving to Starpeak Square with a menacing air about him. Ahead of him, Pokémon in Imperial garb amassed along the beach as smoke curled up from the town's fringes. There were more points where the Marked and other Pokémon met each other, but somehow those meetings were even worse than in the last mural. Marked being set upon by attacking Pokémon, Marked turning and fleeing from buildings that were being set aflame, cannons at the end of streets with puffs of smoke coming from their barrels and small dots in the air…
The Lugia felt an uncomfortable chill settle over his body. Cabot and his friends had spoken of Aquila like he was a great hero, and they certainly didn't say anything about him doing things like
this.
"And it was his
son who attempted to destroy us entirely, the one who drove our ancestors into this place to die."
Pleo turned his head and noticed the next mural over. It was a scene of Marked Pokémon frantically fleeing into an approach of a fog-shrouded mountain as pursuers in indigo garb and trails of smoke loomed in the background behind him. There had been a painting not all that different from this one in that library he'd been in in Tidemill City. Except, in that one, the Marked Pokémon had been further in the background, and he didn't remember them looking this hurt or scared in it.
He opened his mouth to ask what on earth was happening, only to realize that they were almost back at the entrance of the hallway. The last few murals seemed to go by quickly: one of a Glaceon speaking to a crowd of frightened and defeated-looking Marked in a cave chamber, another depicting tunnels being dug and earth and stone being cleared away, and still another showing the Glaceon watching as armored guards were putting together the rusted door at the end of the hallway, with an egg visible further on in the background.
Pleo's ears perked to attention as he noticed the sound of Nina's footsteps were different. He looked up and saw that she and Roderic had already climbed the first few steps and were looking down at them.
"But we defied the fate he intended for us, and made a haven out of this place which Adler intended to be our grave," Roderic said. "And so we endure to this day, and give shelter to those who also know the truth and come to us."
The Rotom trailed off and looked away with a wistful expression.
"… It's all that we
can do at this point."
Pleo gave a puzzled tilt of his head at the pair. Nina sighed and shook her head, raising a paw as she spoke up again to explain.
"It is said that the Archdemon created another set of eggs to replace the one that our ancestors destroyed on Shennow Island," Nina said. "Just finding it
once with a grand army required multiple strokes of fate in our favor. Ones which would be unlikely to repeat even if we had that sort of strength again."
A sharp frown came over Typhlosion's face as she turned away, and looked off up the stairwell with a bitter scoff.
"…
That's why working with you is impossible, demon."
"B-But it's not!"
Nina looked back at the sound of squawking protest, turning to see Pleo craning his head up as Margi attempted to hold him back. The Typhlosion reflexively tensed up, as did Roderic and the other Marked present, only for them to ease after noticing that the young Lugia's face carried a pleading expression to it.
"None of us had anything to do with that!
I didn't have anything to do with that!" Pleo protested. "I… don't know if your story about the Mark is really all true, but I wouldn't have just been okay with things if that was really what happened!"
Pleo trailed off and looked aside, as a few of the Marked guards traded surprised looks with one another. The young Protector paused and weighed his words, before turning back to Nina and speaking up with an uneasy murmur.
"I've seen how Pokémon use it as an excuse to be mean and awful to Pokémon like you," Pleo said. "However the Mark started, whatever it was
supposed to do, it didn't turn out good in the end. And every Protector I know would feel the same about it!"
Nina and Roderic remained silent, leveling wordless stares back. Some of the guards seemed taken aback and began to wonder aloud to themselves with questions like "Is this some sort of trick?" and "Why on earth would a
demon say such things?" Trizano turned his attention around at their guides, and sensing an opportunity to press their argument, he made his way out in front of Nina and Roderic with a visible frown.
"You also didn't need to bring up Aquila and Adler. We ourselves know that the Empire has been up to its share of dark deeds, ones a lot more recently than a few centuries ago," Trizano explained. "The Pokémon in Starpeak Square didn't know anything about it, and they were surprised to find out that the Empire was pursuing a Protector."
The pair didn't say anything back, when Trizano realized that Nina and Roderic's expressions were still unyielding. The Skarmory grimaced and flusteredly backed away, as he shot a pleading gaze over to the pair.
"I don't expect you to forgive the Pokémon that live there for everything you've had to endure, but we're facing a shared threat right now that threatens you almost as much as the Pokémon of Starpeak Square," he insisted. "Please, won't you help us?"
The other guards were visibly hesitant now, a couple seemed to be wavering and looking over at Nina and Roderic for guidance. Margi opened her mouth to speak, only to catch herself after seeing the Typhlosion and Rotom trade looks with one another. There was a lingering pause, before Nina turned back to face Pleo and his companions. The Typhlosion studied them over for a moment, when she broke the silence with a quiet sigh.
"… I'll think about it," Nina said. "It's not my choice alone to make."
"
I tant," Roderic remarked. "But there's other matters we should take care of before then."
Team Traveller quirked their brows as Roderic went through a bag on Nina's shoulder. Much to their surprise, he pulled out the red volume of the Knights' Ledger and levitated it in the air just above one of his tendrils. He moved it slightly, before turning aside and eying the stairs back up.
"To start with, let me take a closer look at that 'Ledger' of yours."
Finding the southern entrance into Gestirn Island's Mystery Dungeon proved easier than expected for Guardia and Dimitri. The forests thinned out into a rocky and craggy rise as they went along, and the path they shadowed eventually reached a pass flanked by stony bluffs, leading into a veil of fog.
The pirates that they found there after first arriving left no room for doubt. Off at the entrance, they came across a party of Pokémon wearing the same red scarves as some of the pirates that attacked them in Starpeak Square. A Conkeldurr, a Toxapex, a Castorm, a Dipplin, and a bluish-white Sandslash with what looked like icy spikes on her back.
They had managed to keep themselves hidden in the minutes since then to observe them and prepare for a skirmish, half expecting them to make a move or have reinforcements come. Except, this entire time, they'd just been waiting. There was an impatient air that hung around the lot of them that'd gotten more noticeable as time had gone on, as the Toxapex parted the two legs in front of her face and turned her gaze up at her companions.
"Shouldn't we have heard more from the others by now?" the Toxapex asked.
"Tch, they've probably got their paws full with how big the forest is," the icy Sandslash scoffed. "I
still don't understand why they're putting so much stock into that badge message. That search party was from the Iron Fleet. They honestly seem like the types who would have trouble with angry ferals, so would it be that impossible for some villagers to ambush them to cause a distraction?"
Guardia held her breath as she finished knotting up a linen bundle at the tip of Dimitri's scythe and the fluttering feeling in her stomach grew stronger. On the one hand, she supposed it was reassuring that the pirates took the bait. On the other… would they really be able to stay ahead of them the entire time?
It looked like they weren't going to be able to stay in hiding for much longer, which was as good a sign as any that it was time to prepare to charge into battle. She stepped back from the bushes and started up a frenetic dance, and briefly glimpsed past the bushes as she moved around. The Dipplin among the pirates was faltering now, and scanned his surroundings warily before speaking up with a worried murmur.
"Even so, are we
sure we shouldn't be helping them?" the Dipplin asked. "I mean, we could always come back here once those ambushers are definitely taken care of…"
A loud
thud rang out, as the pirates looked back to see the Conkeldurr pulling one of his pillars up from slamming the ground. The Fighting-Type narrowed his eyes, before raising his voice with an impatient huff.
"Enough, Mui is onto something," the Conkeldurr snapped, gesturing at the Sandslash. "We found our
own lead earlier and there's no shortage of others dealing with those ambushers. I'm tired of waiting, so I say we investigate the dungeon in case that bird really
is there."
The other pirates nodded to each other and started to form a line with each other to enter into the fog. Guardia's heart pounded in her chest as she did the final motions of her thrashing dance—
Tsurugi no Mai, always helpful for getting energized for fights. As her dance wound down, she looked over towards Dimitri, who was holding a bundle of linen dangling from the tip of his right scythe.
She guessed that was a sign that the knot Dimitri guided her through tying had turned out well enough. Beneath the strips of linen holding everything together, there was a tan orb with a dark vortex swirling around in it that they'd taken from the earlier pirates' belongings… along with the Blast Seeds that they'd wedged around it at the sides. Dimitri pulled the bundled orb up, holding it carefully aloft with his scythe-tip as he snuck a quick peek out past the bushes.
Their breaths tightened as they spotted the pirates gathering together and starting to set off. It was now or never for them to make a move to stop them. There was a brief silence, as Dimitri glanced back at Guardia from the corner of his eyes.
"I sure hope this knot will hold…" he murmured. "Are you ready, Guardia?"
Guardia turned her own gaze out past the bushes towards the Conkeldurr and his fellow pirates as her thoughts turned back to her teammates. Pleo and the others didn't have the option to slink off to fight another day, so they either stopped these pirates here and now, or they and gods-knew-how-many of their friends would find their way to Pleo.
… With that in mind, there was only one answer to give back to Dimitri:
"As ready as I'll ever be."
Dimitri nodded back and tensed himself as he balanced the bundle resting between his scythes, when he stood up and flung it free. Before the pirates could register his presence, the bundle had already sailed off and struck the ground next to the Toxapex.
The bundled Orb and Blast Seeds erupted in a large explosion, flinging the Toxapex aside and throwing the others backwards with pained cries. Swirling winds laden with sand and grit erupted from the Sandy Orb and swept up the other pirates as they tried to regain their balance. The Castform among them attempted to blink sand out of her eyes, floating over the body of her singed and unconscious Toxapex comrade as she hacked and looked about wildly for her assailant.
"Agh! What the-?!"
The Castform was swiftly cut off by a watery tackle, sending her tumbling to the ground unconscious as Dimitri found his footing and reared up. Even with the reduced visibility, the other pirates were able to make out his profile, the nearby Dipplin attempting to attack the Kabutops by spitting up a glob of syrup, when a whirling sound rang out above the winds.
WHAP!
The Dipplin seized up as a white projectile struck him in the face. He stumbled in a daze as the missile arced around and struck him a second time from behind, knocking the Dragon-Type to the ground. The bone carried on on its way back to its thrower, as Guardia hopped up as her club neared and snagged it out of the air. She tightened her grip back around her club, and checked the Dipplin, seeing much to her relief that he wasn't getting back up.
Her satisfaction proved short-lived as a low growl rang out followed by heavy thumps. Dimitri and Guardia whirled around and brace themselves as they saw the Conkeldurr start to approach them with his pillars raised for a strike.
"You're gonna wish you never showed your ugly mug, crab," the Conkeldurr snarled. "Do you have any idea who I
am?"
"
Da! Someone who's running his mouth off and leaving himself wide open!"
The Kabutops lunged ahead at the Conkeldurr, his scythes drawn for a slash. Dimitri's right blade found its mark on the Conkeldurr's flank, but much to the Water-Type's alarm, the Conkeldurr took the hit without flinching and then brought a crushing blow down on him in return.
"Agh!"
Dimitri lost his footing and fell backwards, landing in the dirt with a breathless wheeze. The Conkeldurr noticed his position after a moment to squint against the Sandstorm, and raised his voice over the howl of the winds.
"Everyone who's still standing, get over here and help me crush this weakling!"
The Fighting-Type began to dart forward, raising his pillars as Dimitri tried to scrabble back onto his feet. The pirate leader readied another downward smash as he neared, when a sharp cry rang out from his right.
"Not so fast!"
A seed abruptly zipped in with a blur and struck near the top of Conkeldurr's pillar with an audible pop. The Seed's shell splintered to pieces, as a puff of dust shot out and enveloped the Fighting-Type's head. The Conkeldurr hurriedly attempted to fall back, but the seed's effects quickly overtook him. His eyes began to glaze over and he rubbed at them with an unsteady gait as the Sandstorm kept raging, as good a sign as any that the X-Eye Seed had done its job.
Guardia briefly caught a glimpse of a white blur from the corner of her eye and jumped aside with a sharp yelp as clawtips just missed her scales. She looked up, where the icy Sandslash was growling and drawing a claw back for a swipe.
"Lights out, bonehea-!"
Before the icy Sandslash could finish her words, she was cut off by one of the Conkeldurr's pillars slamming into her with an audible
crunch. The Sandslash went flying off until she struck a tree trunk with a loud
thud, the pirate sliding down before toppling forward limply. Guardia couldn't help but wince at the sight. Good thing that that
Roubushin didn't have great aim right now, since a blow like that might have taken her out of this battle entirely.
Off to her left, Dimitri got back on his feet, panting from stress and exhaustion. A quick glance around revealed that the Sandstorm was slowly starting to thin out, but the Conkeldurr was still groping about from the effects of the X-Eye Seed. The Fighting-Type pirate would surely be a dangerous foe once his impediments subsided, so that meant they had to put him down for the count.
Fast.
The Kabutops braced himself, seeing Guardia's silhouette amidst the swirling sands as he called out to her and planted his feet firmly into the ground.
"Quick!" Dimitri cried. "Follow my lead while he's open!"
The Kabutops took off running in a rough circle about the Conkeldurr as the pirate continued swinging about blindly. All the while, steaming water built up in Dimitri's throat, the Kabutops biding his time for the Conkeldurr to leave himself open. He waited for the Fighting-Type's latest swing to miss wide and spewed his Scald out before falling back for distance. The Conkeldurr winced as the scalding water washed over his arm, and reflexively grabbed it to nurse a growing burn on it. From the side, Guardia watched as the Fighting-Type reeled, and took the opening to lunge at him with her club drawn.
The Cubone sprang up as she approached, bringing her club down with an overhead smash onto the Conkeldurr's back. A satisfying
thwack rang out, but before Guardia could hit the ground, gray abruptly filled her vision and she felt a crushing blow land all over her torso.
"Augh!"
The Conkeldurr's pillar launched Guardia and sent her flying towards a nearby tree trunk. She crashed into it headfirst, before falling to the ground as her club slipped from her grasp. The Cubone lay there briefly as her vision grew muddy, weakly righting herself as she grabbed for her club ahead of her.
A tan foot stomped it into the dirt and a shadow fell over her. Guardia turned her head up with shaky breaths as she saw the Conkeldurr looming above, his left pillar raised as a faint, red aura seemed to settle around it and his lower arm.
"Anything you wanna say before I crush you, brat?" the Conkeldurr snarled.
Guardia's mind went blank in a panic, when she suddenly noticed movement from the treeline. She glanced off at its direction, and much to the Conkeldurr's surprise her expression eased and her face screwed up into a determined smirk.
"Yes, actually. Stick around for a while."
A sharp
crack and the sound of groaning wood rang out, Guardia hurriedly turning and darting to the side as the Conkeldurr looked up to see a tree falling overhead. The tree landed on him with a loud crash, with a glance at its trunk revealing deep, hacking cuts in its wood. Guardia scooted back as dust swirled to see the Conkeldurr's arms groping about weakly from underneath as he attempted to pull himself free, only to lose consciousness and them to go still.
The Cubone sat there panting as silence descended onto the forest path beyond the occasional faint whine or groan. She went and collected her club from the ground, when Dimitri emerged from the treeline, shaking some bark loose from the blade of his scythe.
"That ought to buy Pleo and the others some time," the Kabutops said.
Guardia breathed out a sigh of relief, before she turned her attention to the pirates laying sprawled out around them, all in no shape to do anything other than just lie in place… for now. She made her way over to the Sandslash against the tree, and after giving an exploratory poke with her club and discovering the pirate was still safely unconscious, turned her head back to Dimitri.
"… What are we supposed to do with all of them anyways?" Guardia asked.
"We
could push them into the Distortion without their items or badges," Dimitri said. "But considering that these pirates went out prepared to try and catch someone, I don't think we'll need to do anything so drastic."
The Kabutops came over to her and lowered one of his scythes to tug at a bag around the Sandslash's shoulder. After fishing around in it, his eyes briefly lit up as he looped his scythe around something and pulled it out, revealing a set of ropes dangling from its tip.
"Assuming you can tie more knots, anyways."
… Right, these pirates were here to try and capture
Pleo, so it was only natural that they'd have brought restraints of various sorts with them. She had to admit, there was a certain poetic justice in them being caught up in their own snares. It also made
their lives easier.
The pair started off by binding up the Sandslash against the tree she struck, Dimitri helping to pin her arms behind her while instructing Guardia how to loop the ropes to form knots to hold them in place… even if it took a couple attempts. The pair then repeated the process on the other pirates with the Conkeldurr's pillars one after the other, until all that was left was the Conkeldurr still half-buried under the tree. The pair approached it uneasily, trading glances at the pinned Fighting-Type and then at each other.
"I… think that we can skip trying to pull him free, really," Dimitri said. "Let's just tie his arms to the tree trunk so he can't lift it off of him, and call it a day."
That… seemed more than reasonable to Guardia considering how the 'mon had tried to crush her in battle. She nodded back in affirmation, prompting Dimitri to go and start coiling the rope around the Conkeldurr's arms and the felled tree's trunk. Guardia went around the other side of the Conkeldurr's body and threw the loose end of the rope over, before stooping to grab at the remaining end by her feet, only to see Dimitri catch himself and pause briefly.
"I think we need him a bit further out so we can pull his arms back against the trunk," he said. "Help me pull him free a bit."
Guardia tugged at the Conkeldurr's body along with Dimitri as his head and shoulders gradually came back into view. She turned her attention back to the ropes afterwards and resumed coiling them around the Conkeldurr's arms and the tree trunk. Soon enough, she was at work tying the finishing knots, when she caught a glint from the side of the Conkeldurr's neck.
"Huh?"
Guardia and Dimitri traded glances with each other, before Dimitri turned the scarf inside out and revealed a glinting badge underneath.
"Another one of them," Dimitri murmured. "I suppose it only would make sense if even the
Iron Fleet was using them."
Guardia eyed the badge carefully, before giving it an exploratory poke with her bone. At once, it crackled to life as a buzzing voice came through it.
"Oi, Reg! Give us a status report already! Just because you're high up on Crimson Corsairs doesn't mean you just get to ghost us! What on earth was that racket earlier-?"
Guardia hurriedly pulled her bone away from the badge as the voice cut out. She looked over to Dimitri as he sucked in a sharp breath. He backed away a couple paces from the Conkeldurr and quietly murmured to himself.
"Guess that would explain why that Conkeldurr hit us so hard," Dimitri murmured. "That crew sounds like they'd be significantly more dangerous opponents than the Iron Fleet. We should get going before his buddies catch up with us."
Dimitri reached out his scythes to cut the badge free and fling it off into the bushes, but before their tips could find their mark, he felt a
tak against his right blade. The Kabutops looked down, seeing Guardia motioning for a stop, as she approached the badge and raised her free hand out to grab it.
"Wait just a moment, Dimitri," the Cubone insisted. "I wanna say something first."
The Kabutops shot an askew glance at the Cubone.
"Guardia, if you grab that for too long, the pirates on the other end will figure out our location."
"Maybe, but I don't think we have a choice, Dimitri," she said. "These pirates' friends are expecting them to say something. If we don't get them to think we headed back into the forest, they'll come here and find them, and then go straight into the Mystery Dungeon."
She hovered her hand over the badge and shook her head in reply.
"All the more reason to try and make them think we took Pleo somewhere else, even if it's just for a little bit."
Duke Franz's throne room was in a stony chamber in the keep of Gestirn's castle, with tall windows that let in light from outside, and rugs and tapestries that added color to its gray environs. Much to Ingela's dismay, the Council had overruled her and chosen to repurpose it as their meeting room while they were here on Gestirn, instead of a site closer to the water. The Primarina thumped her tail impatiently against the floor, as evening sunlight filtered through, and cast a glance off at the throne, where Dirk was idly amusing himself. The Bisharp sat sideways on the throne with his feet kicked up and his Eviolite necklace poking out from under his scarf, inspecting a black and gold orb.
"Remind me,
why did we opt to hold our meetings so far from the water again?" Ingela scoffed. "You
do realize that such a site would've made it easier to go to and from our ships?"
Dirk didn't bother adjusting his posture on the throne. He glanced at the Primarina from the corner of his eye, before balancing the black-and-gold orb on the tip of his blade, and idly spinning it on top of its tip.
"What can I say? I've always had a bit of a refined taste," the Bisharp said. "And the best things in life sometimes require a bit of a journey to get them."
Ingela folded her flippers over each other, and turned her snout up with a quiet frown.
"I sure hope that that Sheriff and those guards who weren't accounted for after the raid don't have similar ideas."
"Never heard of the value of picking your battles, Ingela?" Dirk questioned. "Our objective isn't related to them."
"I
do pick my battles, Dirk. That's how I built my reputation carrying on my mate's fleet," Ingela huffed. "By putting the fear of the gods into those who took him from me."
Dirk stopped the orb and set it aside on the throne. He got up and approached Ingela from his seat, curling his mouth into a serious frown.
"You know what I mean. As long as they stay out of the way of that bird and our plunder, we have nothing to lose from letting them hide in their little holes until we're gone."
Ingela turned aside with a quiet harrumph and continued batting her tail back and forth with a series of agitated thumps against the floor.
"You sure could have fooled me with the amount of 'monpower you were sending to try and find those Pokémon that ambushed that scouting party from the Iron Fleet."
A noticeable pause followed between the two, as Dirk watched the Primarina narrow her eyes at him.
"How do you even know that those ambushers really have Lugia?" she asked. "One of your own crew's parties said that they found signs that Lugia entered the Mystery Dungeon. Shouldn't we be focusing some of our attention on the dungeon, as well?"
Was Ingela taking him for some sort of amateur like Hess? Even if they didn't see eye to eye as members of the Council all the time, the Primarina surely ought to have known better considering how
he was the most senior member of the Council. The Bisharp hardened his features into a sharp scowl, before shaking his head in reply.
"No, because even if whoever ambushed them doesn't really have Lugia, they
weren't content to hide away in their little hole and are going around actively sabotaging us," he explained. "We shouldn't assume that they're not already planning on making another move, or that it will stay in the realm of overpowering scouts. And that means not leaving it to just the Iron Fleet to get to the bottom of just who those Pokémon are. Especially if those ambushers
do have Lugia or are friends of his."
Ingela let out an unamused huff and crossed her flippers at the explanation, a reaction that Dirk supposed shouldn't have surprised him. Ingela always
had been one of the more combative members of the Council, after all.
"Oh come now, Dirk. Lugia and his companions couldn't have evaded capture
this long without
some degree of cleverness," Ingela said. "Am I really to assume that they'd have just given away his location without doing
something to throw us off their-?"
"Hey! Captain! Are you there?"
The doors to the room creaked open, as Dirk and Ingela whirled around to see a Rabsca floating in in a hurry. Dirk stepped forward and stepped in front of the Rabsca's path, staring down with a fierce, overpowering glare.
"What is it
now?" the Bisharp growled. "You
do know that I don't need an update over
every little thing you overhear!"
The Rabsca broke his pose with a startled buzz and jolted his limbs as his ball and badge wavered in the air briefly. After a moment to steady his psychic hold on his belongings and regain his composure, the Rabsca pushed the badge towards Dirk with an unseen force and gave an apologetic chitter.
"Uhh… sorry," the Rabsca said. "But you
really want to hear this one. It's a message for you from those ambushers that picked off those Iron Fleet scouts."
Dirk paused and eased his expression as he and Ingela traded surprised stares with one another. After a moment's hesitation, he turned over to an Emboar by the room's entrance and motioned at the door with an impatient grunt.
"Go get Tarquin and Hess," the Bisharp barked. "Tell them that if they're planning on getting full shares of loot when we divide everything up, that they'll show up as soon as they can."
The Emboar hurriedly saluted in reply before darting out of the room. Dirk watched the Emboar drift off, before stepping forward and snatching the badge out of the air. The Bisharp made his way back to the throne and sat down on it. He kicked his legs up, and pressed down on the metal lump, raising it to his mouth to speak.
"This is Captain Dirk of the Crimson Corsairs. Who is this?"
"
The Pokémon who just bested one of your stronger warriors, that's who!" a Cubone's voice crackled back. "
For goons as tough as yours, they sure are dumb at fighting!"
Ingela tensed up, and reflexively opened her mouth to protest back, only for Dirk to cut her off by raising a hand and motioning for a stop. The Primarina quietly seethed, as the Bisharp cocked his brow at the voice's comments.
"'Warrior', huh? So you must be one of those guards that slipped away after the raid," Dirk said. "I was under the impression you Gestirners were more no-nonsense types and less… theatrical."
"
Hrmph, you wish I was a guard!" the voice piped back. "
Sounds like you're just mad that your underlings got their tails handed to them!"
The Bisharp's face fell in response. He tightened his grip around the badge and raised it to his mouth before he continued on.
"No, I'm more annoyed that you're wasting my time when I have business with a client to tend to," Dirk retorted. "Most Pokémon that annoy me wind up swiftly regretting it."
A moment of silence followed, one long enough that a flash of confusion came over Ingela's face and even the Bisharp himself couldn't help but raise a brow. Had something happened to the speaker? He wouldn't have expected a headstrong type to suddenly lose her nerve, but perhaps this 'mon of mystery had a better gauge for dangerous situations than he thought—
"
Wait, 'business with a client'?" the voice asked. "
But you're pirates. Since when did you do anything for anyone else?"
… Or not. Dirk narrowed his eyes, as he got up out of his throne and began walking off. He made his way along and passed one of the tapestries on the wall. He glanced at it briefly, before raising the badge back to his mouth to speak into it.
"That doesn't concern you," Dirk scoffed. "Though if you want to make things easier, put your bird friend on the line. I believe that we have some companions of his he'd be eager to hear from."
There was a long silence from the badge afterwards. When the voice came through again, Dirk couldn't help but notice that it sounded audibly flustered.
"
He's… uh, not interested in negotiating! We'll free them ourselves! The hard way if we have to!"
Dirk paused, as a small smirk came over his face. He'd heard everything that he needed to. So Ingela was right and it really
was a feint, and he was pretty sure he had a decent idea of what he was dealing with for a foe.
"You're obviously quite young and inexperienced," he said. "One of those overenthusiastic types that thinks they're prepared to take on the world after reading
Hard to Kill a few too many times."
"
Read what, now?"
Dirk quirked a brow.
Hard to Kill was a tale at least as old as the Cradle itself and its many variations all had a fairly predictable formula… would the type of Pokémon that went around picking fights with pirates
really never have heard of it?
"Story about a lone guard on Christmas that fights on his own through a crystal tower to rescue his mate?" the Bisharp asked. "Ring any bells?"
"
Nope. Never heard of it."
Dirk frowned, before raising the badge back to his mouth with a sharp scoff.
"You're certainly full of surprises, but I'll cut to the chase. This isn't some old heroic fantasy, kid," Dirk said. "You're not going to magically save the day and free all these villagers on your own and waltz off into the sunrise with your sweetheart."
Dirk walked along as he neared one of the tapestries on the wall. He briefly flexed his right arm, before once again pressing down onto his badge and continuing to speak.
"And when Pokémon under such delusions cross paths with me, I have a tendency to snap them out of them."
THWIP!
The Bisharp summarily ran his blade along the tapestry and sliced through it from one end to the next. Its bottom fell to the ground with a thumping clatter, which made the Rabsca involuntarily flinch. Dirk raised the badge back up to his mouth and enunciated his words for the listener on the other end to hear him loud and clear.
"
Permanently," he snarled. "I'm here along with the full force of Orleigh Island's Pirate Council and a good half of the crews that berth there. Just what do you think you can do against us?"
"
Stop you from getting to Pleo, that's what!" the voice piped back.
'Pleo', huh? So then this scamp really
was one of Lugia's companions. Though that sounded like something he could use to his advantage…
After all, there were several reasons presently sitting behind bars in the village garrison that he could give this Cubone to change her tune. Probably quite a few of them if they'd come in on an entire ship.
"
Fat lot of good all that strength of yours will do if he's gone before you-!"
The voice abruptly cut itself off as the sound of rustling came through the badge and a sharp cry came from the other end.
"
N-Nani?!" the Cubone's voice cried. "
Who are-?!"
The Badge abruptly went silent midsentence. Her patience worn thin, Ingela grabbed at the badge and snatched it out of Dirk's hand, thrusting it in front of the Rabsca with a sharp bark.
"Who's holding that badge right now?!" the Primarina demanded.
The Rabsca paused and held onto the badge in focus. After a moment seemingly in a trance, the Bug-Type bobbled the ball levitating overhead as he turned to Ingela uneasily.
"Nobody," he explained. "I think the speaker just threw it aside."
Dirk and Ingela traded glances after the Rabsca's reply, the Primarina growling under her breath in frustration.
"Ugh, what a waste of time this all was," Ingela fumed. "They don't even have Lugia with them!
"Hardly," Dirk explained. "Even if it wasn't their intention, they've let us know exactly where we should be looking."
Ingela's face contorted in confusion as her mouth hung open for a moment in bewildered annoyance. The Primarina's expression eased as she let out a low, grudging sigh. Clearly she'd picked up on how Lugia's friends had been trying to throw them off the trail, and if they'd gone through the trouble of trying to interfere with his crew prying deeper into the Mystery Dungeon…
Well, he could think of some pretty straightforward reasons why they'd want that.
"What's going on here?"
The sound of loud, heavy footsteps coming from the hall prompted Dirk and Ingela to turn for the door as Hess and Tarquin made their way into the room. The pair entered and made their way up alongside Ingela, as Dirk walked up and pointed up at Hess with a sharp harrumph.
"Gather your crew, Hess," Dirk barked. "
You're going dungeoneering."
Hess blinked incredulously as the Bisharp's words sank in a moment. At once, the Aggron's eyes shot wide in alarm, as he stammered in confusion back at the Crimson Corsairs' captain.
"H-Huh?! What's going on?!" Hess cried. "I thought that there was someone going around ambushing-!"
"Plans have changed,
obviously," Dirk scoffed. "Some bigger priorities have come up."
"We've been able to confirm that Lugia is hiding in the Mystery Dungeon," Ingela added. "I'm sure that even an oaf like you can manage to comb a dungeon properly."
Tarquin stiffened up and held his head up as a brief flash of unease came over his eyes. The other pirate captains noticed the Tyrantrum's misgivings, before he shook his head with a low harrumph.
"I… think that's going to be a bit easier said than done, Ingela," the dinosaur said.
"And what's just what
that supposed to mean?" the Primarina demanded.
"There's apparently some sort of settlement deep inside there called 'Starbreak Square," Tarquin said. "The Marked in our ranks have apparently been dragging their feet about going inland since they didn't want to get mixed up with it."
The Tyrantrum turned his head aside as his peers looked on. He narrowed his eyes before letting out a low harrumph and continuing on.
"I first thought it was another one of their fairy tales, but I overheard some of the townsfolk talking about the place themselves while making the rounds," Tarquin explained. "When was the last time you ever heard normal Pokémon
agree with a Marked story?"
Dirk paused, when a moment of dawning realization came over his eyes. If there was an entire settlement of
Marked in Gestirn's Mystery Dungeon, then it'd likely just be a matter of time before they came across Lugia.
And
that meant, that with a bit of time, that if there was no sign of Lugia ever
leaving the Mystery Dungeon, that the most logical place he would've wound up would be with the Marked. After all, they knew that dungeon better than anyone other than maybe some ferals that also lived inside. Once Lugia entered it, it would just be a matter of time before they ran into each other.
And once that happened, it was hardly believable that they'd just let a 'demon' roam loose. They'd want to keep him penned up someplace secure, and what place would they be more likely to choose than a cell in that settlement of theirs?
The Bisharp shook his head, before folding his arms and looking over at Hess with a sharp harrumph.
"Actually, scratch that.
I'll be going with my crew alongside you, Hess. And Ingela will, too," Dirk said. "Tarquin and the other crews should be able to keep the peasants in line and checking the forests to mop up the rest of Lugia's friends while we're out, and you frankly need all the help you can get."
Ingela's face fell into an unamused frown with a quiet grumble. Hess stared blankly as his jaw flopped open in shock, as he raised a claw and began to stammer in protest.
"B-But you just asked
me to-!"
"That was
before I found out there was an entire town of Marked down there. One that will almost
certainly get their claws on that 'demon' given enough time," Dirk harrumphed, folding his arms. "Really, you should be
thanking me for lending you some help and not leaving you to get in over your head."
Hess spluttered in indignation and stomped his foot with a low growl, only for a pair of louder ones to ring out. The Aggron looked over at Tarquin and Ingela as the pair shot piercing glares at him, and abruptly flinched and shrank back much as if he'd been thrown into the middle of a mob of Marowak.
Dirk trailed off briefly, before turning his gaze up to his Tyrantrum counterpart.
"Though I'll need your crew to help out with a few things involving Lugia's friends, Tarquin," he mused. "After all, that bird will be more motivated to come quietly if he thinks he's got something to lose."
Tarquin gave a nodding grunt in reply as Dirk continued on, idly inspecting his blades as he made his way to the doors. When he reached them, he swung them wide with an audible
creak, and looked back with a dangerous smirk.
"So let's do them all a favor and take that bird off their hands, huh?"
Author's Notes:
-
I tant - Catalan: "Indeed"
-
Tsurugi no Mai (つるぎのまい) - Japanese: "Swords Dance" (Official Romanization)
-
Roubushin (ローブシン) - Japanese: "Conkeldurr" (Official Romanization)
So this should prove quite an interesting leap into the past.
Some things don’t change, do they?
Also Calino’s here and as much of a wet blanket as ever.
Enough that I’m surprised there’s no reaction as to how much money the crew are getting for this.
This can only lead to good things, I’m sure. Although is it truly so dangerous that Calino feels the need to divert the ship into a Mystery Dungeon in the Dead Zone?
