The sun beat down over Sormus' desert as a Grumpig in a white scarf with a blue sun pattern hopped along on the sea of sand dunes. He went along the ridge of a dune, scanning his surroundings near the fog of the local Mystery Dungeon in the distance. As the pig carried on, he put more and more distance between himself and the forms of a Hitmonchan and Nuzleaf at the base of the dune, carrying on alone in his search. The Psychic-Type panted, finding himself wishing for a nice cool mud puddle or even just a plain old pool of tidewater to plop into and stave off the sweltering heat.
"Grah… how's
anyone supposed to search in this weather?" the Grumpig whined.
The pig's ears twitched at the sound of rustling sand nearby. He looked around uneasily, only to be startled by a cloud of sand being thrown up. The Grumpig jumped back with a start as the upper half of a Krokorok donning a scarf of the Psychic-Type's same color and design poked out of the ground.
"Eh? What are you talking about, Hooke?" the Krokorok asked. "This weather's fine!"
"Well of course
you find this okay, Ken!" the Grumpig huffed. "You're like a fish in the water right now!"
Ken pulled himself out of the sand and dusted himself off. The Ground-Type sneered at his Grumpig companion and snorted in response.
"I'm not sure if I see your poi- Huh?"
The Krokorok trailed off as he noticed a small depression in the next dune over. The Desert Croc squinted, and noticed that the small crater continued into a trail, dotted with little silver objects that swirled here and there with the wind
"There's something up ahead over there," the Krokorok murmured.
The pair made their way over to the disturbed sand, the mysterious objects revealed to be dropped feathers as they neared. Could it be...? Hooke hopped over to the edge of the trail, where some hasty footprints had crowded around. Bending over to investigate, he sniffed out the familiar musk of a Nidoran, joined by the distinct sooty scent of Growlithe fur.
"That's them alright," the Grumpig murmured. "But just where would those brats run off to in a place like this?"
Humming in thought, Hooke followed the footprints along with his eyes, scanning the horizon for any little crevices the brats could've hidden themselves in. He spotted a rocky outcropping in the distance that seemed like a likely spot, or perhaps they went to that valley between some of the larger dunes... or, he realized,
perhaps they went within the foggy veil of the Mystery Dungeon which loomed in the distance. Wait a minute... if
he had to shake off some pursuers in a hurry, what better way was there to do so than to go there? If they went for the Dungeon, they'd be cutting through a place where the ground would shift away any tracks that would be left behind. The Grumpig opened his mouth to speak, only for his watching Krokorok companion to complete his thought.
"I think that we've got our answer with that Dungeon," Ken said, before turning off and calling at a pair of figures in the distance. "Oi, Jan! Locke! Get over here! We've found a lead!"
In the distance, the fuzzy forms of a Hitmonchan and a Nuzleaf glanced over as the Ground-Type summoned them and they hurried to regroup, walking over as briskly as the loose desert sands would allow. The pair crested the ridge of the sand dune and clambered down, impatiently pressing the two for details.
"Eh?" the Hitmonchan asked. "What did you find?"
"Yeah, let's hurry it up!" the Nuzleaf fumed. "I think my leaf's starting to wilt!"
"We found the twerps' tracks!" the Grumpig exclaimed. "If we follow them, it'll take us straight to-!"
"Hey!"
A call rang out from above, interrupting Hooke's briefing. The four Pokemon turned their eyes skyward, where a familiar Fearow looked down at them as he circled around to land. Settling awkwardly in the unsteady sand, he beat his wings impatiently, kicking up a light cloud of dust from the ground.
"Eh?! Maurier?!" Ken cried. "What are you doing here?"
"Captain Lyn wants all of us at the beach!" the Fearow squawked. "He says he found out where those kids went to."
His message delivered, the bird flapped his wings for takeoff before the others could begin to respond, and hurried away back towards the coast. As Maurier disappeared into the heat-hazed horizon, Jan traded glances with his Nuzleaf partner, before shooting an unamused scowl at the Grumpig.
"You called us all the way out here for something the Captain already figured out?" the Hitmonchan fumed, only to be answered with a disgusted snort from Hooke.
"Oh shut up. Let's just get back to the beach."
The Grumpig set off, hopping across the dunes as the other three Company Pokémon followed along. The group carefully went forth, retracing their footsteps through a circuitous set of dunes and over to a ruddy-sanded beach where a number of Pokémon in Lyn's adopted Blue Sun pattern had gathered. The four crept along, hoping to slip into the back of the crowd, only for a loud Samurott's growl to reach their ears.
"Hmrph, about time you four got back."
The four laggards shifted uncomfortably, giving sheepish smiles at their counterparts that quickly dissipated under a harsh glare from Lyn. The Samurott twitched his whiskers and cleared his throat to speak, still in a surly mood from the whole episode.
"Now that everyone's
here, I'll start my debriefing," Lyn said. "Listen up, because I'm
not going to repeat myself."
Lyn's glare lingered on the four a moment longer before he broke away, taking a deep breath and straightening his posture as he prepared to more formally address his crew.
"While we were searching for the Sea Guardian's crash site earlier, I found his and his friends' tracks heading for the Mystery Dungeon," the Samurott explained. "Needless to say, it's a safe assumption that they've moved in there to try and elude us."
An uneasy pause flecked with awkward 'uhm's and 'er's followed the Samurott's words. The crew hadn't been expecting to go into a Mystery Dungeon en masse, and they didn't have a friendly port to give them support like they had in Kenobi… Just how were they supposed to square this circle?
"The Board and I anticipated something like this might happen after our meeting on Mengir," the Samurott continued. "So we prepared a contingency plan."
Lyn motioned with his seamitar to a Xatu to the side of him, who opened a container filled with glinting metal badges. The Samurott pulled his blade back and sheathed it, giving a stern scowl at the gathered Pokémon.
"Everyone who isn't here watching the ship or physically unable to move inland is heading in. I want all of you in groups of two so we'll cover more ground," the Samurott captain barked. "The sooner we get those Pokémon, the sooner you'll all be rewarded for this mission."
The crew's murmuring rose to an excited chatter as they dreamt up the size of the bounty on the Protector's head. Lyn motioned for silence, and harrumphed with a satisfied nod as the commotion died down.
"Glad to hear we're all on the same page, then," he grumbled. "Come and get your equipment and get
out there."
Lyn eyed his grunts closely, making sure each of them grabbed a badge for him or herself before leaving. His attention was drawn away by the approach of Ketu and Ellsberg, the two shooting each other a brief glare as they came closer. The Samurott shrugged the matter off as the duo came to a stop before him, Ellsberg turning his attention back to Lyn and clearing his throat to speak.
"I presume you needed me to stay aboard, Lyn?" Ellsberg asked.
"No, Ketu can handle that," the Samurott answered. "I need a flier who can cover my bases in the dungeon, and I want
you for that."
"Eh?!" the Bug-Type exclaimed. "But-!"
"You heard him, Elmer," Ketu sneered. "Leave the ship-watching to an
actual first mate."
Ellsberg balled up his tarsi and beat his wings forcefully, shooting a burning glare at the flippant Dark-Type.
"Why you-"
The Mothim flinched as a low growl rumbled through the air. Lyn peered down and glared at them, wordlessly demanding silence, and brought the dispute to an abrupt halt.
"Now that you two are
done, is there anything left to be said before Ellsberg and I take our leave?" the Samurott demanded.
"Good luck out there," Ketu cheered. "I'll be looking forward to you bringing back that bird."
"... Save the well-wishing for
after that bird's bound and below deck," the Water-Type snorted.
Ketu scoffed dismissively and responded only with a casual shrug of his shoulders, more than accustomed to dealing with his captain's overbearing adamance. The Dark-Type brushed away some sand out of his head feathers, before giving a languid glance up at his superior.
"Well, when he is, he'll be in good claws," the Weavile replied.
Lyn and Ellsberg turned around and started their trek towards the Mystery Dungeon, leaving Ketu behind alone on the beach. As the two drifted away and comfortably out of earshot, a small smirk began to creep over the Weavile's face.
"Just not necessarily in the ones you want him to be."
Team Traveller tore along into the dungeon for cover and, after double-checking everyone was present, began the long and arduous process of climbing up its floors. The lower levels were covered in a thick layer of sand just like the desert terrain outside, while further up the sandy floors grew riddled with stones that forced a slower pace to avoid injuries. They found themselves now on a floor which impressively managed to feel intensely claustrophobic despite its tall walls. Even though gargantuan pillars of orange-red stone arced out from the massive walls, the passages of this floor proved rather a tight fit even for the quartet of diminutively-sized adventurers.
On top of the gloomy cloud which hung over the group, the small solace in being able to explore a dungeon together again was stifled by a palpable tension between the four. Their moods were far from bright, but each of them trudged on without complaint, dutifully checking each branching path they encountered for any lurking ferals. However, their measured procedure was suddenly interrupted as they reached a spacious chamber, with three paths stemming from the room and carrying on beyond their line of sight. Pleo's pace slowed and he paused in the middle of the room, unsure of which path to take first. He glanced behind him, looking back to his friends for guidance, only for his heart to sink as he realized they all seemed more focused on glaring at one another than solving their conundrum. After one moment of tense silence too many, the young Lugia couldn't help but to break it by piping up with a question.
"Uh… where do we go next?" Pleo asked. His teammates paused and looked at him, before offering up their suggested routes.
"Left," Nida said.
"Right," Guardia insisted.
"Straight ahead," Elty yipped.
A tense, angry silence fell over the room as the three blurted out their preferred paths in unison. Nidoran, Cubone and Growlithe alike once more glared at one another, each of them sure that their way was the best and having little patience to humor alternatives.
"Spike ball, you don't have to be contrarian just because you're mad at me," Elty huffed. "Checking what's ahead of us is the easiest place to start and you know it!"
"Go ahead and look for yourself then," Nida hissed. "The left is opposite of the side where the stairs took us and that's where
I'm going."
"Ugh… you know what? Let's just split up," Guardia muttered. "We'll go down our respective paths just far enough to see if they lead anywhere, and then come back. Nothing can go too wrong in that little bit of time, right?"
"Eh? But-" Pleo began, only to be cut off by a simultaneous answer from his other teammates.
"Fine."
The three Pokémon each harrumphed and turned their backs on one another to leave down their chosen paths. Pleo stammered for a moment as they each walked away, threatening even to leave him behind completely. With no time to think, he simply stumbled after Nida, rushing to catch up to her as she stormed towards her path.
Click
Nida froze as she felt a pressure plate give way under her feet, and a sharp hiss rang in her ears as a sweet-smelling cloud of pink mist billowed out around her. Coughing, Pleo began to beat his wings in an attempt to disperse the fog, but it seemed it had already done its work; Nida's ears twitched and she felt her heart rate pick up as she looked around for any sign of trouble approaching.
"Spike ball, what did you
do?!" Elty snapped.
"I stepped on a trap, alright ?" Nida huffed. "Just brace yourself!"
Wrapped up in a heated squabble regarding the trap Nida had sprung, the trio didn't seem to notice that the strange pink mist had already cleared up. Pleo blinked a couple times, peering around the room for any sign of a change... He hadn't felt any weaker, and Nida didn't look hurt, so why were they still so worried about the trap?
"Huh?" the young Lugia murmured. "But nothing happened."
Guardia turned up her nose and took a deep whiff of the area. Then she seemed to catch scent of something, her eyes snapping open as she tightened her grip on her club and took a fighting stance.
"Don't be so sure about that, Guardian."
Nida and Elty seemed to smell whatever it was too, but all Pleo could smell was the faint sweetness that lingered from the mist. However, whatever they smelled that he didn't, it put them on edge just as much, each of them similarly bracing themselves for battle and glancing around the room warily.
"Why?" Pleo stammered. "Wh-What's happening-?"
Rumble Rumble
Team Traveller looked around uneasily as the ground's shaking continued, before being interrupted by a trio of plumes of sand and dirt. The four shielded their eyes and coughed up some sand, seeing the forms of a lost-looking Drilbur, Diglett, and Bunnelby before them.
"Aha! That's where that smell is coming from!" the Drilbur cried.
"Eh?! What are these hut-dwellers doing here?!" the Diglett yelped.
"What they're doing here is unimportant," the Bunnelby growled. "Let's get them
out!"
The three ferals assumed tense and combative stances, Team Traveller hastily bracing themselves for battle. Before any of the four could move, the Drilbur flashed his claws and lunged for Pleo for a series of furious swipes as his Digglet partner began building up a glob of mud in his mouth and zipped behind Nida.
"Take this!" the Drilbur snarled.
"Yeah, eat mud!" the Diglett spat.
Pleo hastily flew up with a startled squawk, shedding feathers as he darted out of the way of the Drilbur's swipes. Nida rolled as the glob of mud sailed towards her, ducking just in time for it to pass overhead, only to feel a crushing blow on the side of her head.
"AAAAAGH!"
From above, Pleo heard Nida's shrieks, seeing her flop forward stunned with Guardia's bone lying beside her. A startled whine from behind prompted Pleo to crane his neck around, just in time to see Elty hastily turning tail from the Bunnelby after a kick in his gut and Diglett harrying a now-defenseless Guardia. The young Protector stopped in the air, struggling to determine who to aid, only to feel a sharp pain shoot through his wing.
"A-Aah!"
Pleo yanked his wing back, knocking a blue and black blur down to the ground. The Lugia watched as the Drilbur righted himself and reared up for another slash, prompting Pleo to dive down, bluish light gathering on his feathers as he struck the Ground-Type. The mole yelped and went sliding back, panting from the sudden blow as he tried to regain his bearings.
"Argh!"
The Drilbur dug his claws into the sand and staggered up as the cry of a startled Diglett rang out. He looked over, and saw both the Nidoran was pinning him down with blows, the Cubone making a swift dash for her club before joining in. The mole panted and struggled to maintain his footing, his presumptions of an easy fight thoroughly dashed and filled with a strong desire to be anywhere but there at that moment.
"Gah!
Vetäytykää! Vetäytykää!"
Unnerved, the Drilbur hastily dove under the sand and burrowed away, followed closely by the Diglett. Back above the surface, Elty yelped and tripped after being knocked over by the Bunnelby, blowing embers at the rabbit's face to buy precious seconds to slip away yet again, much to the Normal-Type's frustration.
"Why won't you go
down-?! Huh?"
The Bunnelby paused and looked over his shoulder, hopping up with a start after discovering his teammates were missing. The Normal-Type bolted along for the hole, calling out after his unseen companions.
"Hey! Wait up! Don't run off without me!"
The rabbit bolted off in a hasty exit, leaving behind Team Traveller to flop down and lick their wounds from the surprise encounter. Disquieted grumbles filtered through the air, Nida in particular giving a scowl at her Cubone teammate in between runs at her throbbing head.
"Argh…" the Nidoran groaned. "Thanks a lot for hitting my head with that bone, Guardia."
"Why are
you complaining? Accidents happen," Guardia fumed. "And
you're the one who tripped the trap in the first place!"
Nida and Guardia scowled at one another, seething wordlessly, their furious silence broken only by an equally-irate yip from Elty.
"Way to
abandon me, you jerks!" Elty growled.
"Oh,
you're one to whine about abandonment!" Nida hissed.
Pleo looked on disheartened as his friends sank back into their infighting, further complicated now with the latest dispute between Nida and Guardia. The young legendary began to droop as a sense of crushing failure set in. How could it be that he'd failed so much at being a Protector? He'd hurt others with his powers, and he was unable to keep even the Pokémon he cherished the most from going at each other's throats. The Lugia began to sulk, only to flinch at the sound of approaching footsteps and jolt up with a start.
"Wait!" Pleo squawked. "Someone's coming!"
The others abruptly silenced themselves and turned their ears to the corridors beyond. Sure enough, each of them was able to clearly hear footsteps echoing from down the hall to the left, coupled with distant conversation about the sounds of a scuffle and that syrupy-sweet smell that the wind carried through the dungeon.
"Let's get out of here before they find this place," Guardia whispered.
The team obliged Guardia, quickly shuffling off into the winding maze ahead of them on Elty's chosen path. Although their temperaments were hardly calmed, their arguments would mean precious little if they were overpowered in the dungeon. For now, the best plan of action would simply be to focus on getting through this maze.
Back on Tromba, Osmund's condition had improved to the point where he was ready to resume his duties as the captain of the guard. The only sign of his encounter with Lyn's blade two weeks prior being a faint scar on his stomach that had yet to fade away.
The Sceptile made his way down the paths of Bluewhorl's southern end, meandering past domiciles and shops, and the sounds of sparring emanating of a freshly-busy Dojo for the familiar earthen lodge that served as the guards' headquarters. There at the front were a group of Pokémon in lavender headbands; a Mawile, a Granbull, and a purple Nidoran parted ways, the littlest of the bunch staying behind to slick his whiskers. The gecko gave a bemused shake of his head and walked up, eager to strike a conversation
"Heh, been learning those ropes well while I was out, Orino?" the Sceptile cheered.
"Eh? Captain Osmund?" the Nidoran asked. "I thought you were still recovering."
"Nah, we Sceptile bounce back from a little cut faster than your average tree in the forest," Osmund chuckled. "I was actually just on my way to pass your mom the news."
"Ah, she's been looking forward to getting back to the field," Orino murmured. "But did everything go alright while you were out? Dealing with
mamí on the force was… well, it wasn't nearly as easy as with you."
"Meh, it was a chance to take things a little slower," the gecko insisted. "Spent some time brushing up on my card skills, spent a few nights helping Hatteras out with his lighthouse duties, and I spent some time catching up with my sister."
The Nidoran blinked, taken somewhat aback by his captain's casual mention of a new family member.
"Wait, you have a sister?" the Poison-Type asked.
"Younger, yeah," Osmund replied. "We got assignments to different islands a few years back from the capital, though it sounds like she's going through some sort of shake-up on her end."
The Grass-Type trailed off, his gaze drifting to nothing in particular as he stared off into space for a moment. He brought a claw to his chin as his mind turned to his days watching over his sister back at the Academy. She'd been rather vague in her last letter, was she still doing alright? The Sceptile caught himself and shook his head as he brought his thoughts back to the Nidoran before him.
"But that can wait," he insisted. "What did I miss on the job?"
"Oh not much. There were a couple bar fights when the pirates got too much to drink, a Meowth got stuck in a tree the other day, Mildrew asked a few of us to help stake out whatever feral's been stealing his apples..." Orino answered. "Also,
mamí got a bounty issued on her."
Osmund's eyes widened, and his jaw fell slack in shock at his subordinate's offhanded remark. Marley had a
bounty issued against her?!
"Wait,
what?!"
"Yeah, take a look," the Nidoran prodded. The purple spike lump dug into his bag and fished out a stack of papers, unfurling them to reveal a collection of bounty posters with crude depictions of Pokémon. Osmund saw that one of the bounties was for a Hydreigon, thinking nothing of it until he noticed the other posters. There was Marley in her swirl-patterned scarf, and a Growlithe and a Nidoran in blue scarves with star patterns.
"Guess that's
one way of telling that
chiquita is still kicking around out there," he murmured.
"… Aren't you more worried about your mother and this bounty?" Osmund asked. "She's leaving the force, and there's no shortage of hunters out there who'd take a shot at this bounty."
Crash!
Osmund and Orino turned as a Donphan sailed through a shuttered window on the guard hut's first floor, faceplanting on the ground with splintered pieces of wood. A distressed Honchkrow quickly flew out and took off in a hurry, prompting the elephant to hastily right himself and roll off away from the guards' hut. Osmund stared, flummoxed at what had just happened, only for a Nidorina's head to poke out of the now-destroyed frame.
"… Shoot. Lost them," Marley grumbled.
After turning her head, the forms of a slack-jawed Osmund and an unfazed Orino came into the Nidorina's view. She pawed at an ear, before giving a cheerful afternoon wave as if nothing had happened.
"Oh,
buenas tardes, Osmund," Marley cheered. "Here to take your old job back?"
Osmund blinked and stared ahead speechless at the Nidorina's nonchalance. Bemused at his superior's flummoxed demeanor, Orino shook his head and gave a dismissive wave of his paw.
"Nah, she'll be fine," the Nidoran insisted.
"Er… I can explain?"
Once again, Hess' words echoed about the darkened chamber that the Council gathered to meet in, fidgeting anxiously before an audience of four sour-faced observers. A quick glance evidenced that even the Council's members had not eluded the chaos surrounding Team Traveller's exit. Ingela was covered in welts from Jellicent stings, while Dirk and Tarquin were sporting fresh scrapes on their body. Of course, there was Sibich, who was battered and bruised from his impact, and all the more agitated for it.
"Explain?
Explain? What is there to explain?!" the Cofagrigus spluttered. "You
destroyed half the town chasing after that bird!"
"B-But it was that Imp and those jellyfish that did most of the damage!" Hess whined. "And I didn't
know that that Lugia would be in town!"
"Then why didn't you
come to us?!" Ingela demanded.
"I… er… uh…" the Steel-Type stammered. "I didn't think you'd believe me?"
"Well, that wouldn't have been an issue for me," Sibich sighed. "
My suspicions were confirmed with this little episode."
"Ugh… I suppose miracles
do happen after all. Of a sort," Dirk growled. The Bisharp sprang up and thrust the tip of his blade at Hess' neck, stopping a hair's breadth from the hide as the Aggron squeaked and his eyes dilated.
"E-Eek!"
"Unfortunately for
you, that doesn't get you off the hook," Dirk snarled, moving his blade-tip up against the throat of his petrified audience. "And there
will be consequences for this debacle."
Hess quailed, tucking his tail in as he felt his blood turn to ice. He desperately tried to raise a protest, only for his words to come out as a panicked stammer.
"I- I- N-Noooo…"
Dirk pulled his arm back, raising it in the air for a downward blow. Hess froze, whimpering as light glinted off the edge of the Bisharp's blade.
"On account of your complete and utter
incompetence , we sentence you to…"
The Aggron screwed his eyes shut, bracing himself for a piercing stab into his neck. In its place, he felt a stiff slap on the side of his maw, sending him falling down onto his rump with a yelp. Hess moved a claw up to paw at his now-numbed cheek, opening his eyes uneasily to see Dirk walking back for his seat.
"Forced labor," the Bisharp growled. "Namely, you'll be hunting down and bringing that bird
back here."
Jaws dropped around the rest of the table, all eyes trained incredulously on Dirk at the leniency of his punishment. Most expected Hess to be lying stone dead on the floor by now, or at least thrown to the Imps or Square-necks for them to have their way with him. Yet here he was, let off with a slap and reassigned to the job
they all coveted?! What sort of madness
was this?
"Wh-Wha?" the Aggron stammered. Before Hess could receive his answer, Ingela gave the floor a stiff slap with her tail, shooting a hardened scowl at her Bisharp compatriot as he retook his seat.
"Um… Dirk, could we have a
word together?" the Primarina demanded.
"H-Huh?" Hess asked. "What are you going to talk abou-?"
"Not
you!" Tarquin snarled. "Get out and wait outside the room!"
"Meep!"
Hess hastily stumbled back to his feet and bolted past the doors at the front. Not wanting to leave anything to chance, the lizard loudly slammed the doors shut, leaving Ingela, Sibich, and Tarquin to trade furious scowls with their first among equals.
"Dirk, what sort of punishment is
that?!" Ingela exclaimed.
"Yeah, hunting down that bird's something that
we should be doing!" Sibich huffed. "Not that metal-jacketed buffoon!"
"Because, whenever crews from this town do something to majorly disturb order in Anyilla, it
always draws the full attention of the Company and the Empire," Dirk explained.
"Tch, so we'd have to deal with some more heat than normal," Tarquin scoffed. "Nothing that wouldn't blow over eventually."
"Just like it did for Beatrice?" Dirk countered.
The Tyrantrum paused and shifted uneasily before giving a dismissive harrumph and attempting to wave the matter off.
"Okay, that Garchomp wasn't a normal case and you know it-"
"Or like it did for Amaro after that raid on Nagrobek?” the Dark-Type interrupted, shooting a piercing glare up at Tarquin. “Or what happened to the town after Charles kidnapped an Imperial Governor's kid? Or how about when Kavafian stole sea fire recipes from the Company and got his crew and half the harbor burned up after the Square-necks tracked him back here? And do I even need to get into how Jack got his ship dragged to the bottom of the sea?"
The others paused and traded glances with each other. Each of the Pokémon the Bisharp mentioned had met… inglorious ends, to say the least, but all of them had taken needless risks. How was that related to the topic at hand?
"… What are you getting at, Dirk?" Tarquin pressed.
"Tch… I shouldn't have to explain this to you, Tarquin. You used to be
part of the Company for crying out loud!" the Bisharp spat. "This mission is bound to rile up the Company and the Empire, and it's in
our interest that whoever brings that Protector back takes a quick bow off the stage afterwards to keep our
base of operations from being razed to the ground."
Tarquin and Ingela paused, mulling over Dirk's plan. The two entertained thoughts of scenarios where they, or perhaps some other agent would chase around the Protector, only to begrudgingly realize that the Bisharp was onto something.
"… I'll admit, I think I can see your point there," Ingela sighed.
"But you're trusting the
Iron Fleet to bring the Protector back?!" Sibich exclaimed. "Surely you of all 'mons must realize that-"
"That even though they're clearly bottom percentage material, the Iron Fleet is also the only crew in port that has any idea of what to expect from that Protector," Dirk countered. "Or do
you know of any others, Sibich?"
The Cofagrigus gritted his teeth as smoky shadows billowed around him. That was
his bird for the taking and here Dirk was just giving him away? Even so, he knew better than to challenge a peer with an advantage, and there were surely other ways to get what he wanted. So for now, at least, the best option seemed to be to relent.
"Urgh… fine," Sibich sulked.
"C-Can I come back in yet?"
The Council members looked back at the doors, which had opened conspicuously wide to allow Hess to poke his huge head back inside. Dirk groaned with a shake of his head and beckoned the Steel-Type over.
"Yeah, yeah," Dirk growled. "Hurry up already."
Hesitantly, Hess pushed the doors open the rest of the way and paced back into the room. He glanced this way and that, staying wary that perhaps Dirk had been joking when he spared his life, but thankfully that didn't seem to be the case. The Bisharp eyed him amusedly before clearing his throat to speak again.
"As I was saying, it will be on
you to bring that Protector back," Dirk barked. "And starting after sundown tomorrow, you will be persona non grata in port until you come
back with him."
"E-Eh?!" Hess whined. "But-!"
"Besides,
you have the most experience out of all of us with regard to that bird," the Bisharp pressed. "So you would be best-suited to track it down."
The Aggron blanched as Dirk's words echoed in the room, realizing that the Dark-Type had left him with two deeply unpalatable decisions. On the one claw, if he accepted - with Rodion and a chunk of the crew gone - it would be next to impossible just to get out of port, much less keep the remaining Pokémon from mutinying. On the other, if he refused... it would be hard to see any outcome where he didn't leave the room in pieces.
"I- I mean, I don't have much of a choice-"
"Hoy!"
The gathered Pokémon looked back at the doors as a black-and-white figure with a large bill pushed them open and flitted over to the Council members' table. As the bird slowed and settled to a stop, he took the clearer shape of a Toucannon wearing Tarquin's colors. The Council members narrowed their eyes and scowled, none the more pleased by the Flying-Type's interruption.
Do you
mind?" Ingela snarled. "We're in the middle of something here!"
"Er… apologies, but it's urgent!" the Toucannon insisted. "It's from the Imp who trashed the port! She wants to do a prisoner exchange!"
A chorus of disdainful groans followed the bird's words. That Imperial lackey had the temerity to assume that she could get her lost underlings back so easily?
"A
prisoner exchange? Pah!" Tarquin spat. "I wouldn't give them so much as a scale unless I got those Imp sods' weight in alumi-"
"We'll do it!" Hess cried. The Aggron paused, realizing that he had spoken out of turn and growing acutely aware of the harsh glares boring through his hide from the Council members. Even so, this
was his opportunity to patch up his crippled crew… perhaps he should just be candid about it?
"Uh… er… I… would kinda need the members of my crew who were captured back to have the best odds at getting that Lugia?" Hess offered, forcing a smile over his metal maw. Dirk glared harshly, only to see that the Armor Pokémon, while visibly unnerved, wasn't budging on his demand. It would be easy enough to kill him here on the spot… but then again, how else would the Council get another patsy this well-suited to the job?
"Ugh… fine," the Dark-Type sighed. "Where and when does she want the exchange?"
An hour's journey to the west of Orleigh, the Vasilek had laid down anchor at sea, far from unscathed from her daring entrance into Rosequartz. The sails had been shot through full of holes and the hull was being kept seaworthy through copious amounts of ice plugging breaks in the wood. The bow was blackened from fire damage, and a long and hostile pursuit from Spirit Trench's ferals had broken off parts of the stern. On top of it all, the ship had left port 13 claws short, and without the Protector that the whole mission had sought out.
Indeed, the only sign that the mission had been anything other than a complete debacle were the forms of a motley selection of hogtied pirates thrown together on the ship's deck. For some, the shock of capture and the stench of seawater and sweat had done much to instill a submissive stupor. A few like the Hoppip in the group had been busy being simpering and sniffling wrecks, some like the Floatzel had put on a brave face to try and tamp down the palpable dread and unease by trading supportive words and glances.
As for the others, including a certain Zangoose and his companions, the ordeal had done little to take off their edge...
"This is so demeaning…" Scian groaned. "Would it kill you guys to give us some more water?"
"Yeah, the sun's baking us alive here!" Cerny whined.
"Oh for crying out loud, we're captured and about to be shipped off to gods knows where!" Kai fumed. "And you choose to whine about us being thirsty?!"
Cerny cocked his head before turning back to the Flareon. Much to Kai's exasperation, the Banette did nothing but raise an eyebrow indignantly at his outburst.
"Yeah?" he asked. "What's your point? Just because I'm tied up doesn't mean I'm not thirsty."
Scian rolled his eyes at his teammates' argument, before his mind drifting back to his present indignities of being tied up and ignored. He scowled and furrowed his brow, fidgeting against his bindings before he turned back to Nagant, growling after her.
"I know you can hear me,
portán!" the Zangoose yelled. "Give me some wate-!"
The Normal-Type was abruptly cut off by a stream of water striking his face, prompting a startled blurble as Scian toppled backwards and coughed up the unwelcome "drink". Scian rolled over onto his stomach before feeling his upper body lifted by the scruff of his neck, coming face-to-face with a glaring shrimp looking down at him.
"
There. You've asked for a drink ten times now in the last fifteen minutes," Nagant hissed. "Now shut up about wanting water."
Jun watched as the sopping Zangoose spluttered and coughed water onto the deck, and gave a sigh as he shook his head. The Vasilek had made a daring raid and paid a considerable price for it, with only that hacking furball and the rest of the pirate scum they'd drug aboard were all they had to show for it.
"Well, this could have gone better," Jun muttered.
"Eh? What are you talking about?" Cyanea bubbled. "I nabbed five pirates during that raid!"
The Tentacruel happily prattled along as Nagant pivoted on her tail, shooting a deepening glare at the jellyfish. Noticing her captain's increasingly stormy mood, Katyusha prodded her partner with a fin, speaking out of the side of her mouth.
"Er... probably shouldn't ring your bell too much when some of us didn't make it off the island. Or when we didn't get that bird," her Sharpedo partner whispered. "Besides, you only got
three of those without my help."
"But I managed to capture more pirates than any-"
"
Molchi!" Nagant hissed. "That furball's whining is already enough of a headache and I don't need
you making it worse by your constant bragging, Cyanea!"
"Hey!" Scian spat. "I can still hear you, you old-"
The Zangoose once again was silenced with a Water Gun to his face, drawing eye rolls from the nearby captives. Among those was a more experienced-looking Floatzel, who gave a shake of his head and called out to the incensed crustacean.
"Not to tell you how to run your own ship, shrimp, but what
are you up to?" Rodion demanded. "You've been anchored here for almost an hour and haven't moved us into the brig yet. I would think that even in hard times, the Empire would still build them into their ships."
The Clawitzer frowned and narrowed her eyes, shooting a disdainful scowl at the otter from the corner of her vision as she perched herself against the railing.
"That's because I'm planning on making you someone else's problem," the shrimp answered.
"And just what is
that supposed to mean?" the Floatzel scoffed.
"Captain Nugget, there's a ship coming!" a Drifblim's voice cried.
The gathered Pokémon turned their attention to the form of an approaching ship with lightly-colored sails in the distance. Nagant's indigo-scarved crew crowded around the railing to make out the ship, squinting as a few of the more high-strung creatures braced themselves for battle.
The craft had a pair of masts decked with golden sails, groans breaking out as the brigands realized
whose ship was approaching. The grumbling intensified as the caravel neared, the silver spiked teardrop designs only serving to add insult to injury for much of the group.
"Seriously?" a black-scarved Furfrou groaned. "The Iron Fleet?"
"
That bunch is gonna try and rescue us?" Kai scoffed.
"Well I guess we'll have more company here on deck really soon," an orange-scarved Cacturne grumbled.
"Tch. Hardly," Jun chided.
As the golden-sailed ship neared, its occupants came into clearer view. An Aggron leered over the railing, watching over a group of hogtied Pokemon in indigo scarves which lay on the deck behind him.
"Her majesty's forces don't just leave their own behind." the Beedrill explained. "And like the Captain said, we're aiming to make you someone else's problem. Specifically the problem of these gold-scarved louts."
The Mistral Marauder pulled up beside the Vasilek, and at Hess's cry, a pair of gangplanks were lowered across the space between the two ships. At each end, the ships' captains made their way to their respective ends, glaring at each other from across the gap.
"Was there really no one
else from Orleigh to negotiate?" Nagant growled.
"Hrmph, I don't want to deal with you again either, but I don't have much of a choice right now," Hess harrumphed. "Do you have the 30 prisoners? You're not getting so much as a scale without them!"
"Do you have all of
my subordinates?" the Clawitzer retorted. "I counted 13 missing, and you'll be lucky to
swim home if you stand me up here."
"Ugh... yes."
"Then let's get this over with already," the shrimp snapped.
At their respective captains' calls, the crews of each ship roughly escorted their captives across the two gangplanks. The indigo-scarved captives were returned to the Vasilek, while Hess welcomed the captured pirates back aboard his own Mistral Marauder. On each ship's deck, some happy reunions took place as crewmembers were reunited with their friends.
"K-Kichiro!"
Wilhelm made a beeline for Kichiro and blubbered happily for his consternated Ledian friend, prompting the beetle to give an annoyed buzz and shake the living hayseed off.
"Give it a rest, you big baby!"
Further towards the stern, Scian and his partners tried their best to make a show of looking at home even on this foreign ship. Hess' attention was captured by Rodion, who approached his home ship while futilely tugging at the ropes which bound his wrists together.
"Rodion!"
The Aggron stomped over as quickly as his massive body would allow, the ship's deck creaking under his heavy footfalls, and scooped the Floatzel up into an embrace tight enough to make a Pinsir cringe. The otter flailed against the sudden, crushing hug, pushing against the Steel-type's bulky frame in a vain attempt to escape the brazen show of affection.
"Gack! Hess, do that
after I've been unbound!" Rodion protested. "You're strangling me!"
Hess cracked his eyes open and noticed that the gathering was silent other than the sound of waves and breaking wood. The Aggron looked around and saw that the other Pokémon, even the Clawitzer captain, were staring and blinking at his overly enthusiastic affection. He hastily set his first mate down, batted his tail against the deck, and hardened his face into a scowl before gruffly turning back to his Indigo-scarved foe.
"Well, that's it," Hess muttered. "I don't have any more business here with you-"
The Aggron trailed off and looked about the freshly-boarded pirates, quickly doing a headcount. There were definitely 30 present… but where was Eltenios? He’d vanished in the chaos surrounding his battle with the old sea bug, so where was he now?
“Oi. Your letter said there were 30 prisoners,” the Steel-Type grunted. “There’s supposed to be a Growlithe with them.”
Nagant looked at Jun before looking back, rolling her eyes in aggravation at the pirate taking up her time. The yappy mutt she soaked? He hadn’t turned up when the riff-raff had been dragged in, so how would she know?
“What you see is what you get,” she snapped. “No one who made it back to my ship brought a Growlithe with them, and I’d suggest that you
don’t try to do anything cute with our deal right now.”
Hess glared back across the gangplank at the Clawitzer. He
knew that Eltenios was still missing, so what’d the shrimp do to him? Was she pulling a fast one? Did one of her cronies drop him while carrying him off?
… Though either way, with her crew visibly raring and ready for battle, the shrimp in her native element, and his ship visibly more pockmarked with holes than hers… With such long odds, writing a mon he’d lost once already off as ‘missing in action’ seemed to be the smarter move than getting sunk over a fight.
“... Fine,” Hess growled. “I had stuff to do in port anyways.”
"You and me both. I've got places to be, pirate," Nagant snapped. "If you know what's good for you, you'll keep your thieving face far, far away from me."
"Grr... the same to you. And have fun dealing with the Company."
Nagant's blanched, taken aback at the implications of Hess' threat. Her shocked expression faded to a sharp glare, and she pounded her firing claw on the deck angrily.
"Just what are you implying there?" the Clawitzer demanded.
"You trashed our hangout to get at a Protector," Hess chided. "Do you think word won't get out and the Company isn't going to find out about this?"
Nagant clenched her mandibles and tensed her claws, coming to the begrudging conclusion that the metal-hided buffoon had a point. The shrimp began to mull over the potential consequences the whole debacle might mean for her mission, only to be brought back to reality by feeling her ship abruptly lurch. Hess gave a belligerent snort, before turning back to his crew and stomping the deck for attention.
"Come on, we're getting out of here!" the Aggron bellowed "And you other dweebs better pull your weight, or I'll have you
swim back to Orleigh!"
The gangplanks were pulled up and the Mistral Marauder's escorts whipped up currents in the sea and air which pushed the caravel forward and the frigate back. The Vasilek's crew fought to steady their ship as Hess' ship slipped over the horizon. All the while, Nagant remained silent, grimly staring off into the distance, drawing a concerned buzz from her first mate.
"Captain," Jun asked. "Is something wrong?"
The Clawitzer remained pensive, the pirate captain's words sticking with her. As much as she hated to admit it, the Aggron had a point. It really would be just a matter of time before the Company learned she and the Empire were also searching for the Lugia... but would she be able to still get the Protector in the face of their escalation?
Nagant scowled and shook her head. It was too late to turn back now. The die had already been cast and she was still going to fight to restore those days gone by even if it was the end of her. All that was left to do was to keep pressing on and let the future bring what it may.
"... Nothing that we can't prepare for," she sighed. "Just get those 'mons untied and let's get moving."
Team Traveller carried on climbing up the Mystery Dungeon, trudging through floor after floor and run-in after run-in with the Dungeon's hazards up to their current floor. The place was a space covered in sand and stony fragments, hemmed in by a maze of sandstone bluffs. Above, inverted arches hung from a suspended slab of ground high above, as the group followed the contours of the walls to a straight, unusually tall bluff, most likely a barrier the Distortion generated to enclose the floor's boundaries.
All the while, the darkness outside grew darker and darker, with only Elty's embers and the muddled light of stars and what the four presumed to be the moon giving any illumination at all. From the increasing fatigue the four felt, it was obvious that the night was not getting any younger, though even so, the team had a strangely hard time finding a stable zone to spend the night in.
"Nida?" Pleo yawned. "When are we going to sleep?"
"… I dunno, Pleo," the Nidoran admitted. "We haven't found a suitable place in any of the last floors we checked. Just keep looking a little longer."
The Lugia slowly dropped his head in disappointment, at a loss for what the team could do now. The bird shuffled uneasily and blinked, before a dawning realization lifted his spirits. Elty literally had a nose for finding islands of calm amidst the tumult of the Distortion, which had helped the team before on islands like Boisocéan. He gave the Growlithe a pleading look, who upon noticing gave Pleo an unamused stare.
"What's with
that look?" Elty snapped. "I can't magically do anything that
you can't to find a stable zone! This dungeon keeps blowing away the sand that would carry scents!"
Much to Pleo's dismay, the two quickly fell into a heated argument, first talking and then shouting over one another back and forth and all but drowning out any other attempts at conversation. As Nida and Elty continued bickering in the background, Guardia looked over at the floor's sandstone wall, where she noticed some cracks in the stone. She backed away from her bickering teammates and noticed the sound of moving air coming through, glancing down at her bone as a sudden realization dawned on her.
"Wait," Guardia interrupted. "Maybe there
is something we haven’t tried yet to find that stable zone,
Gardie."
"Eh? And just what would
that be?" the Growlithe demanded.
The Cubone walked over to the sandstone wall, and gave a forceful tap against it with her club. She heard a hollow tap, prompting her to strike the stone harder, and harder...
Crack!
With one final strike, the wall gave way and fell to pieces, a cloud of dust billowing out from the debris as it settled. The Pokémon coughed as the dust blew into their faces, backing away to allow the area to clear. Once everything had settled, they peered ahead into the newly-opened passage. There they saw that the stone had been hiding a tunnel, and not far inside they could see the fog of the Distortion swirling around.
"Ah! That's it!" Pleo chirped .
"Hrmph," Elty grumbled. "You just got lucky."
"Enough," Nida sighed. "Let's just head in and get some rest."
The group filed into the passage, by now more than used to the process of safely navigating the Distortion and dealing with the tricks it played on their senses. As they emerged from the foggy tunnel, they were met with a gentle, whispering breeze and the dusty scent of swirling sands it carried. After regathering their composure, they pressed on, noting the ground changed underneath them from loose sand to a ruddy-red sandstone. The stable zone they came to after the fog cleared away took the shape of a sandy clearing ringed by ledges of sandstone, and a ruined arch in the center, seemingly once hewn from a single, impossibly long and thin chunk of stone with rusted bits of metal wire poking out of the edges.
"… I guess it's as much as we can hope for right now," Nida sighed. "Let's make camp here for the night and carry on in the morning."
"Right. I guess we should start picking out our spots," Guardia murmured. "I'll take the other side of this ruin."
Elty shot a sour frown at the Cubone, taking a bit of offense to her apparent enthusiasm to be rid of the others. Even if they hadn't been getting along so well, was it
really necessary to split the team up like that? He puffed out his chest angrily, and decided that two could play at that game.
"Alright then," he huffed. "Since we're playing that game."
The Growlithe dragged a forepaw along through the sand, drawing an uneven line that marked off a berth around his resting place.
"This is
my spot," he snapped. "So butt out of it."
"Fine, I'll sleep in front of the entrance then," Nida retorted. "You're coming, right, Pleo?"
"I… er… um…"
Caught in the middle of the little territorial dispute, Pleo found himself unsure of how to answer. He glanced around the room uneasily and the crude lines drawn in the sand. He didn't really want to have to pick sides with his friends, but was there even anywhere to pick that everyone would be okay with? The young Protector glanced at the lines and noticed that they met just in front of the sizable arch in the middle of the room, noting that no one had claimed that spot yet, and it was plenty big for him to curl up in comfortably enough. Maybe that would be worth a shot?
"Actually, why don't I take the middle?" Pleo offered. "There's enough space around for you to come over and rest there…"
The Lugia attempted a small smile as he made his suggestion, but it quickly deflated as the others frowned at him, seeming to already be set in their selected alcoves.
"Hrmph, you do that then," Elty harrumphed .
"I'm not changing my spot," Guardia insisted. "Not tonight."
"… I would rather keep my own myself, Pleo," Nida sighed.
"But…"
Pleo's whole body sagged, the young Protector seemingly running out of energy to protest his teammates' negatory responses. He raised one wing in an attempt to get them to reconsider, but he had little faith that his friends would listen at this point; his fears being realized as Elty waved a paw back dismissively
"Look, just get some rest," Elty interrupted. "The sooner dawn breaks, the sooner we can get going, get out of here, and get on with our lives."
Pleo watched as each of his teammates curled themselves up and screwed their eyes shut to sleep, equal parts irritated to have their rest delayed and thankful to finally be able to indulge in it. The young Protector fidgeted in place, his mind racing as he tried desperately to think of some way to help his friends become...
friendly again. Try as he might, though, after a short time spent wracking his brain, the realization came over him that he simply couldn't think of anything.
With that, the dejected Lugia tucked his head under his wing, drifting off unhappily into the realm of dreams.
Out on the sea, the Vasilek had carried on in its westward course, prowling the waters as the sun gave way to the moon and stars. Even the dark of night was not enough to deter the searching crew, prompting them to break out candles and lanterns of glowing algae in a so-far fruitless bid to find the Protector.
On the deck, Nagant shook her head, eying her cabin and having half a mind to bury her gills and her frustration in a nice, stiff bowl of vodka. The Clawitzer suppressed her urges and hopped over to her first mate who looked out at sea and was in a similarly deflated mood.
"Nothing at all?" the Clawitzer sighed. A few reluctant looks went around the nearby crewmates, before Jun gave an exasperated shake of his head.
"Nothing," the Beedrill buzzed. "If the Protector did make his way for the Subway, we've seen no trace of him or his companions."
"Pah… I should have known this would've been a moon shot in the first place," Nagant grumbled. "But how are we supposed to narrow things down at all when all we have to work with is him being sighted flying westward?"
"Gwark! Bogey inbound from port!" a Pidgeotto's voice squawked. "It's huge and closing in fast!"
"What the-?"
A fiery flash of dragonfire tore through the air, followed by a loud thump as the deck rocked beneath Nagant’s tail. A chorus of yelps and cries filled the air as crew members reacted to the sudden vibrations and others turned towards the site of the impact and grimaced with a start. There, in front of them was a glaring Dragonite crouching against a ring of scorch marks as a few stray flecks of dragonfire danced on the deck, with a quick glance revealing a lavender scarf with an intricate pattern of violet squares on his neck.
"I-It's a Square-neck!" a Vespiquen buzzed.
"Quick!" a Salandit shouted. "Get hi-!"
"Hold your fire!"
The gathered crew paused, passing uneasy murmurs to one another as they watched the Dragonite tensely. Nagant twitched her barbels, none too terribly eager to deal with Administrator Darzin on such short notice, and hopped over, scowling.
"What are you
doing here, Administrator Darzin?"
"You were fairly hard to miss with all the light," the Dragonite snorted. "And we need to have a
talk."
"Talk about what?" the Clawitzer demanded.
"You can start by telling me why a report reached my desk of an Imperial frigate leading a swarm of ferals from Spirit Trench to raid Orleigh, and why
you specifically were there for it!" the Dragon-Type snarled. "I didn't make our little arrangement just so you could sail around chasing whatever adventure struck your fancy!"
"If you
must know, we tracked the Protector there," the Water-Type hissed back. "I saw him with my own eyes on that miserable rock and were it not for some bumbling pirate's interference, he'd be in my brig right now!"
"Tch, a likely story," Darzin harrumphed. "That's why Commissioner Lyn was conspicuously
absent from Orleigh, right?"
Nagant caught herself and twitched her barbels uneasily. She hadn't the foggiest clue
where Commissioner Lyn was right now, but she at least knew he wasn't there with her.
"…
Ya ne znayu. I can't speak for why he's not present," the Clawitzer murmured. "Perhaps he received poor intel."
"Well then, where does your 'intel' suggest he'd head to next, hrm?" Darzin demanded.
"We saw him flying westward," the Water-Type explained. "There's only so many places he could have gone to from there, and the first island en route is Sormus."
"So in other words, you're sailing blind and entirely based off a hunch right now."
"Well, is it any worse than whatever Lyn has right now?" the shrimp demanded.
The Dragonite paused and glared at the Clawitzer, before relenting with a snort. Much to Nagant's relief, that seemed to be enough to convince him, evidently Lyn really hadn't had a breakthrough as she had feared… or at least not one that either of them knew of. Darzin turned and paced over to the railing, giving a sharp scowl over his shoulder.
"… So be it. I'll let you get back to your search, though
do be aware that our arrangement will stop being valuable as soon your options for capturing the Protector are exhausted," the dragon growled. "Don't screw this opportunity up."
Darzin leapt off the deck, whipping up a gale-like wind with his wings that made the sails billow out the sea dragon vaulted into the air and flew off into the deep night. On the deck of the Vasilek, the crew watched as the orange blur melted into the blackened sky, uneasy whispers filtering through the air as Jun shook his head over the whole episode.
"How on earth did you ever get yourself into this situation, Captain?" the Beedrill sighed.
"… I did what I had to to get off Mengir," Nagant muttered. "But we have bigger worries right now."
The Clawitzer looked at the deck and shook her head, before turning to her first mate with a hardened gaze.
"Let's get going for Sormus and renew our search from there," she chittered. "We need to get a more solid lead for the Sea Guardian's whereabouts, and fast."
Nagant raised a cry, drawing the attention of the escorts in the sea and air. The shrimp hopped overboard, and swam ahead of the Vasilek as the air and water began to churn, pushing the frigate on westward in its search. All the while, the crustacean couldn't help but shake the nagging sensation as if she was just a small hurdle away from a breakthrough...
But just what could that hurdle be? And did she have what was needed to surmount it?
A distant, moaning cry roused Elty from his sleep. Grumbling as he blinked the sleep from his eyes, he rose to his feet and looked around blearily, spotting Neo and Pleo stir awake as well. A sense of dread fell over the sleepy trio as they realized it was the same crying that had kept them awake in Rasp's hostel.
"Nrgh… No…"
"Eh?!" Nida cried. "That crying's going on even here?!"
"Wha- How?" Pleo squawked. "We
left Rosequartz, and we didn't take any Pokémon with us!"
How could this blasted crying have followed them
here? Whoever had been crying at Rasp's place had surely been left behind... right? Elty mulled it over for a moment, before an interesting thought occurred to him... He remembered Guardia being suspiciously quiet during those sleepless nights. Could it be that it was
her making that racket all along?
"Eh?" the little Protector asked. "What's with that look, Elty?"
"It's nothing," the Growlithe insisted. "Let's just find whoever's making this racket, shut them up, and go back to bed."
"Something we can finally agree on," Nida scoffed. "I'll take the left with Pleo, you take the right."
The Pokémon went their separate ways; Elty heading off to the right and passing the edge of the ruined wall as he clambered up the dune and back down again. The Growlithe sniffed around for a trail, turning his nose skyward now and again until he came to a small alcove dug into ledges of sandstone. The Fire-Type frowned, giving a frustrated growl at his lead taking him to a dead end. Every sense in his body told him that crying
had to be coming from around here, but all he'd found were some stupid rocks!
… Right?
"Wait a minute," he murmured. "That crying's coming from..."
Elty looked up and noticed that the ledge seemed just high enough to jump onto. He took a few paces back and planted his feet into the sand before launching himself skyward with all his might, just barely catching the edge of the stony plateau with his front paws. With some effort, he dragged himself up onto the ledge and looked around once more, the ruined wall at the center poking out from behind an obscuring dune. As he caught his breath from the exertion of the jump, he scanned the area, and spotted a lone, broken pillar nearby.
"Uwaaa-"
Elty made his way around the ruin and came face to face with a sniffling Guardia. The Cubone jumped up with a start at the Growlithe's presence and scooped her club up, stopping her crying with a hitched breath.
"A-Ah!" the Ground-Type yelped. "What are you doing here?!"
"So it
was you keeping us up all those nights!" the Growlithe exclaimed.
As Guardia began to realize her intruder was merely her yappy
Gardie teammate, she eased her grip on her bones, and pointed it at Elty accusingly.
"W-Why would
you care?!" the lizard fumed in between sniffles. "B-Butt out and go back to your own end of the zone!"
"Well excuse me for worrying,
księżniczko!" Elty spat. "It's not as if there's a giant sign that lets me know what's going on with you-"
The Growlithe looked up and noticed that through the misty haze above, the familiar shape of the moon was shining down on them. The Fire-Type paused, and remembered a few passing yarns he had heard filter around on such nights of Cubone crying at the full moon… Gah, he should have realized this sooner! Why, the reason the bonehead was so upset had to be because...
"… Oh," he murmured. "It's because of your mother, isn't it?"
"Nice stereotyping there," Guardia growled. "She was already gone before I even hatched, but…"
The Cubone's voice trailed off, prompting her to wipe away some fresh tears from her eyes. She looked up blearily into the sky, where through the fog, a full moon just entering its waning phase hung in the sky.
"She's not the only departed staring down from me up there…"
"Eh? So you
are crying over someone?" Elty asked. "But… who?"
"… It was my father. He was the one who watched over me when I was growing up ," she explained, prodding weakly at the sand with her bone. "Up until the big accident."
The Growlithe uneasily looked at the ground and shifted his paws at Guardia's words. He knew from the Ground-Type's bereavement that the story surely had an unhappy ending, but even so...
"Er… what happened?" Elty asked.
"He was out with a scavenging party from our colony in the mountains," Guardia said. "They were going along a high ridge when the earth woke up…"
The Cubone prodded at a pebble with her foot before kicking it away. The pair watched as the stone fell upon some jagged crags, an audible crack ringing out as it landed split into two. Elty looked looked down at the fragments of the rock, and his eyes widened as the implications of Guardia's display flashed through his mind. For once in his life, he seemed lost for words, despite his best efforts to splutter something out. He took a moment to compose himself as he struggled to come up with the right words to respond with.
"… So he went out like that?" the Growlithe muttered. "Is that why you react like a stuck Spoink every time we get up high?"
"If you're trying to be comforting, you're not doing it right," Guardia huffed. "But yes… And it's why when I see him looking down to me from the moon like this, I just- wish he could be-"
Guardia's voice hitched, as she began to dissolve back into tears. Elty's tail and ears drooped, as the Fire-Type couldn't help but empathize with the bone lizard. He would have thought it improbable at first, but he shared a good in common with the Ground-Type. They both were fish out of water making their way through a strange world of scarves and badges and overpowered abstractions like the Company, and they'd both entered it with a loss that cut close to their hearts…
It sounded daft, but… maybe if he shared his story, it would help the bonehead out? She'd at least feel less alone, right?
"Hey… I get it, alright?" Elty murmured. "I've gone through something like that myself…"
"What- What's that supposed to mean?" Guardia demanded.
Elty froze and his gaze drifted back downward as Guardia continued to sniffle. For a long moment, the Growlithe avoided eye contact, appearing to struggle against some unseen weight over whether or not to speak up.
"Er… well…"
"Guardia?!"
Elty and Guardia jolted and looked behind them just as the forms of a Nidoran and a young Lugia rounded the ruin's corner. The two froze at the sight of Guardia sniffling, a deepening concern etching itself onto their faces.
"You're crying!" Pleo squawked. "What's wrong?"
"What's going on here?" Nida asked, folding her ears back worriedly.
The Cubone hitched and stumbled for her words, drawing a silence from her teammates. Pleo and Nida shifted uncomfortably, realizing that it had been Guardia crying in the dark at Orleigh all that time. Pleo wondered to himself, was she crying because she felt alone? Just as he had in that dark room aboard Lyn's ship. But... then why...?
"... How come you didn't let us know you were feeling like this?" Pleo prodded.
"Huh?"
"Yeah, you're obviously not doing well right now," Nida added. "But we can't exactly help you if you hide stuff from us."
Guardia sniffled a little, before hardening her eyes into a scowl and turning away. It was bad enough that Elty had to intrude on her in the middle of her pining, but now the
others too?
"H-Hrmph," the lizard retorted. "I don't
need help with this."
"Oh... but was there really nothing at all that you needed?" Pleo murmured. "I mean, we're a team and supposed to look out for each other, right?"
"... I guess it's been a little cold out at my spot…" Guardia admitted. "And since you know now..."
"I can do that!" the young Lugia chirped. "It would be just like the nights we spent the guild!"
Pleo craned his head down and gave a reassuring nudge at Guardia's belly. The bone lizard hesitated a moment, before heading off with the young Protector, becalmed as the late hour took its toll on her. As Nida and Elty were left behind, a question lingered on the Nidoran´s mind, prompting her to give a curious look at her teammate.
"What was it that you were going to say back there?" Nida asked.
"Nothing you need to worry about spike ball," Elty harrumphed. "We should get back to sleep along with those two."
Nida blinked and stared blankly at the Growlithe. What was with the sudden change in attitude? The Poison-Type looked after the fire dog as he began to pace off, expecting an explanation, only to be answered with a pause followed by a gruff grunt.
"Don't get any ideas here. It's just because it's colder than I expected tonight," Elty murmured. "When we get out of here, I'm still going my own way."
"Whatever," Nida grunted. "Let's just get some sleep."
The pair made their way back across the sand for the ruin in the clearing. There, waiting for them were Pleo and Guardia, the pair already starting to drift off to sleep. The Nidoran and Growlithe stood there for a moment, before sighing and curling up alongside their teammates.
There would be time to try and sort things out tomorrow. And who knew, perhaps things would work out for the better with a little rest. Until then, they'd be better off sleeping, reunited under the foggy skies for the first time in what had felt like ages.
Author's Notes:
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Vetäytykää! - Finnish: "Retreat!" / "Pull back!" (given as a command in 2nd person plural)
-
chiquita - Spanish: Term of endearment meaning "little girl" / "little child", used here in context roughly equivalent to "sissy"
-
buenas tardes - Spanish: "good afternoon"
-
portán - Irish: "crab"
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Molchi! (Молчи!) - Russian: "Silence!" (BGN/PCGN Romanization)
-
Ya ne znayu (Я нe знаю) - Russian: "I don't know" (BGN/PCGN Romanization)
-
księżniczko - Polish: "princess"
