Intro/Part One, Chapter One: The Sea
tomatorade
The great speckled bird
Between the Mountains and the Sea
Seafolk’s guild was not spoken of alongside the greats—even its own members could attest to that. But between a town that hates them and the threat of larger guilds coming to subsume them, they'd better think of some way to pull themselves together or else be dissolved. Fortunately, that’s not Solder’s problem, not when all he needs is to pick up the shattered remains of his memory and move on. Yet things can only get more complicated and it seems that for every reason he has to leave, another tells him to stay.
Seafolk’s guild was not spoken of alongside the greats—even its own members could attest to that. But between a town that hates them and the threat of larger guilds coming to subsume them, they'd better think of some way to pull themselves together or else be dissolved. Fortunately, that’s not Solder’s problem, not when all he needs is to pick up the shattered remains of his memory and move on. Yet things can only get more complicated and it seems that for every reason he has to leave, another tells him to stay.
Ah, here's the PMD fic I've been threatening myself to release for a while. It's a little low-key and meandering, but there are enough bright spots to say I still like it. Anyways, I've banked something like a completed arc, sixty-thousand words and nine chapters in and I'm hoping to release them every week or so while I work on my other fic. Enjoy!
General warning for violence, swearing and adult themes. Death, references to abuse and alcoholism, self-esteem issues, anxiety, and general mental health issues. Finally, friends and non-friends being cruel to each other.
Part One
Chapter One
The Sea
Solder lay on a bench in the shade, the storm in his gut just quelled enough to open his eyes.
So he did. Unfortunately, the bench he lay on faced the ocean.
Solder groaned and shut his eyes again. He slumped back and took a deep breath. The wet slats weren’t pleasant on his spine, but it was better than standing. Or laying on the puddle-riddled stone harbour, instead. As if taunting him, a massive wave crested over the stone pier not too many metres away, mirroring the tremendous waves sloshing through his mind. He felt his stomach lurch at the memory.
He’d never take a boat again.
An electronic crackling interrupted his groaning. He cracked one eye open. The crooked fabric overhang he slept under filled his vision, but as he craned his neck, he noticed a brown-box radio sitting on the open window beside him. Its two dials stared at him like the eyes of a child.
A boyish, enthusiastic voice leaked from it with a little sing-song intro.
“...Aaaaand good morning, Seafolk! Welcome back to the broadcast! It’s fa~bulously sunny again today and the sea—she’s faring well. For all you sea-dwellers, be prepared for weeks of fortune and prosperity and ships brimming with fish. Now, let’s diiiii~p into the harbour for a moment~”
Solder tuned out the broadcast at that, letting it fade into background noise. After a few moments, he’d finally gathered himself enough to try sitting up again.
Taking a deep breath of salty ocean air, he swung his legs over the edge of the bench and dragged himself up. The harsh glare of sunlight forced him to squint. He looked out over the gatherings of strange creatures walking across the harbour, talking in groups or sitting alone at the edge of the ocean with fishing rods cast before them. Despite sharing a ship with an odd collection of them, he still couldn’t get used to the odd mutations, vibrant colours and absurd biology. Like, one of the sailors that he chatted with on the voyage here was a living key ring—Klefki, she called herself—she looked absurd, but how could he judge? She functioned perfectly. He could barely walk.
Solder frowned. He hadn’t seen a single recognizable creature yet—including himself (a quilava, according to the sailors, who gave him worried glances when he asked)—but they all talked and acted like it was normal, so…
Best not to rock the boat on that one. Pun intended. He could shut up and pretend this was normal for a while. Still, his mind spluttered and Solder felt a flash of anger as he tried to reach even basic memories. There existed flashes of vague, unreachable objects, creatures and images that slipped through his mind like water through a sieve.
“...Now, onto guild news. Un-fortunately, Zazz, our resident froslass, resigned this morning. Many of you may have seen her battle with Guildmaster Haxorus in the valley, but, needless to say, she did not beat him! What a surprise~. Of course, this brings into question the duties of the guildmaster. Can he really throw his weight around like that? Where does it stop? Personally, I’m wondering if more shows of discipline are sneaking up on us. We’ll see~”
Solder found himself listening to the voice again, latching onto the mention of the guild before he let it drift off again.
When he’d interrogated the sailors in between bouts of seasickness, the topic of guilds popped up frequently. And with it came endless praise. Endless stories of teams they’d ferried to other continents, their triumphs, their failures, their brilliant confidence and selflessness. Valotrope, Treebow, Sanclaw: all big guild cities, thriving utopias inland that housed the bravest er… pokemon (according to klefki) in the world.
Well, they certainly sounded impressive, but Solder had to wonder why nobody mentioned that Seafolk had a guild.
Half the sailors had, at one point, applied to enter a guild. None had succeeded. Klefki wasn’t shy about crying—literally crying, which sounded faintly like windchimes being shaken—on his shoulder as she shared that. They’d done written exams, interviews, background checks, battles.
He glanced at the masses wandering across the pier. One hulking, bipedal alligator-looking thing stomped by, giving him a sidelong glance before snorting and turning away. Solder barely caught the disarming flash of knife-sharp fangs as it grinned.
He shuddered, a sudden chill cutting through him.
He’d be torn to shreds.
Solder sat up as the radio continued to ramble behind him. He hopped off the bench, his stubby, alien paws meeting the ground with a splash. Water soaked him up to his ankles and he instantly wanted to get back into the sunlight.
He left the shaded bench behind without a second glance, spit into the warm sunlight and open streets of Seafolk.
Wandering around the busy pier on all fours proved to be awkward even without motion sickness bogging him down. Not the mechanics of it—he had no problem putting his legs forward in the right order or weaving his surprisingly flexible body around the crowds—but he was so short. Pretty much every pokemon was taller than him as he walked.
Feeling slightly shaken and pinned under the gaze of so many pokemon, Solder turned to the first street he came across, leaving the noisy pier behind. He breathed a sigh of relief as he left. The street was narrow and much less busy than the pier.
The city seemed built on a hill. The laid bricks and boards by the pier becoming trodden dirt the further into the city they went. They sloped up as well, going on until they, along with the city’s buildings, trailed off into the mountains and cliffs surrounding.
Solder was impressed by the architecture. Every house was erected as a block, kept up by wooden pillars and stone foundations. Few had glass windows, instead using thick wood slats or swinging planks to cover them. Each building connected to the street with massive, arching doorways that even the largest pokemon could fit through. Not many had second or third storeys, but those that existed were small, becoming progressively less massive until the top floors looked like garden sheds from the street.
As Solder strolled up the dusty street, he puzzled over the mess of T-shaped poles and platforms that reached from the slanted rooftops. There he saw a group of intimidating blue birds, long tail feathers jutting behind them in impressive Vs, roosting on the platforms. He squinted at them, wondering if they were just simple birds or if they could talk like everything else.
Then they burst into a chorus of laughing caws that echoed through the street. The biggest one flung its wings open, gesturing widely to the group. It brought another round of laughter. Solder shook his head and turned away, back to the street. Unfortunately, with another look, none of the buildings screamed ‘guild’.
Okay, fine. Time to ask for help.
He huffed and searched for a pokemon that didn’t look like it would kill him, passing over a group of intimidating monsters lurking in the wide arch of the building next to him. He scampered further up the street, turning the first chance he got; another row of stacked houses met him, this time sandwiching a square of overgrown trees, vines and shrubs that spilled out into the street. Pokemon milled about the street, but the park lay empty aside from a roundish pokemon with long rabbit-like ears sprouting from its head. Solder recognized this one, actually—it was an azumarill, like one of the sailors he talked with on the ship. She stood in the shade of a tree, seemingly content watching the pokemon pass by.
“Excuse me?” Solder waved as he entered the park. She didn’t respond. “Hey!”
One of her large ears twitched and she turned towards him. As their eyes met and Solder opened his mouth to speak, a brief spark of… something passed her face. And then it left. Not because she schooled her expression or smiled, she simply left. One moment they shared awkward half-smiles, the next she loped into the street, the blue orb at the end of her tail bobbing behind her.
Solder could do nothing but stare at the shaded patch of dew-grass she used to occupy, mouth open as if trying to find the words he was trying to say. He ran his tongue across his teeth. They felt sharper than they should.
“Fine.” He grumbled, turning back to the crowds in a huff. “Alright. Cool..”
Wandering around led him behind trails of creatures, all gathering around a set of open streets. He stumbled through the crowd and Into a bustling marketplace, with colored awnings arching between the buildings above him and a swarm of multicoloured pokemon crowding around wooden stalls jammed in the wooden buildings that framed them. The noise of it rivalled the colours, all manner of voices, crass and musical rang out over the crowd. None of it appealed to Solder at all.
For a second Solder thought to spare himself, to turn around and give up, but a thought struck him as he watched a fish-seller chat up a customer, waving him off with a brown wrapped package and a grin.
So he sighed and bore the noise, scampering around a passing pair of pokemon. Then he raised himself from four legs to two so he could look at his options.
The shops across the street were stocked mostly with produce. A wide array of herbs crowded together, overflowing from their boxes. They were the busiest stands. Absolutely crowded, pokemon all shoving past each other to get the best products. Further down, more pokemon hawked products in shaded tents with bits of jewelry and other trinkets hung around them. The rest of the market was just… fish. Solder didn’t notice at first, but most of the market consisted of buckets and trays of dead fish—none of which he recognized—sitting in beds of crushed ice.
He supposed it made sense for a seaside town, but as he sniffed the air—finally noticing the sharp, briny scent—he couldn’t help but shrink away.
Spotting a promisingly empty jewelry tent, Solder dropped back to his feet and skirted through a gap in traffic, silently thanking his nimble frame as he narrowly brushed a massive, scaled leg. He ignored the subsequent shout as he slipped past a group of chatting cats sharing an awning.
The shopkeeper looked like a walking sunflower, with a happy narrow-eyed face plastered in the centre of the radiating yellow petals. Solder didn’t bother trying to understand how that worked—or the way she manipulated her leaf-arms to hook and unhook the accessories from her wall. He reminded himself of the key ring he talked to on the ship, fought the urge to slam his head into the table, then cleared his throat.
“Hey, can you help me? I’m looking for the guild.” He thought about standing and bringing himself eye-level with her, but the moment of hesitation she held before speaking kept him on all fours.
“Why on earth would you want to go to our guild and not inland?” She said in a soft hum, before turning back to her work. “They’re not so friendly up here, honey. Ohhh, but I heard on the radio that Treebow’s guild is simply lovely in springtime—what with all those flowers. And such a nice stroll up the valley. Hmmm...” She trailed off with another hum, finishing her work with a pleased clap of her leaves and stepping back up to the counter.
Maybe she didn’t expect Solder’s completely flat expression, but her smile dipped a bit as she locked eyes with him.
“I guess you didn’t hear me, I wanted to go to this guild, not Treebow. In fact, I never even mentioned Treebow. Maybe I should’ve screamed,” Solder said, a soft venom to his voice. “But, okay. Yeah, yeah, trees, flowers, whatever—can you give me directions or not?”
“Oh, honey, maybe you should calm down first. I know how your type…” She gestured to him with a leaf. “...tend to get.”
“You don’t know me. And I’m not upset.”
“Sure, honey. Maybe I can help you later. After this customer.”
Then she simply ignored him, turning to another pokemon Solder hadn’t noticed had snuck up beside him. He clenched his teeth. The creature (taller than him, with a pair of scythes for arms) took his place and hit him with a side-eye. He let his irritation out in a laboured sigh, nodded and turned back to wait and watch the street.
There was no neighbouring stall across the street. So, with nothing to stop for, all the stray pokemon passed by like the swing of a metronome—back and forth, back and forth. Solder leaned against the shopkeeper’s table, happy for the moment to relax. But the more he counted, the more time passed with the sunflower’s enthusiastic conversation melting into the background noise, and the more he felt his irritation evaporate with nothing to spend it on. He let out a wide yawn. His muscles went slack and he found himself half-laying on the table. Soon enough, his eyes fluttered closed…
But a shrill squeal pierced through the crowds. Solder jerked awake, slamming his elbow on the table with a jolt of pain. He flicked his attention to the offender. There, across the street, some sort of yellow rat with a big wedge of teeth jutting from her muzzle sat on the dusty ground, clutching a brown bag against their side. Jewelled pins lined her shoulder-strap. They scrambled to their feet, scolding the orange, two-tailed weasel who must’ve knocked them over.
Mostly, Solder was fascinated by the… yellow swim floaty wrapped around their neck. Paranoid little weasel.
He started to lose interest as the mouse further overreacted. She whined in the same annoying squeal, she huffed, she flailed as if the light coat of dust she’d taken from being knocked over was toxic. Solder couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Not only at the mouse, but with how the weasel made a big show of apologising in a sickly-sweet tone of voice, patting her on the shoulder like a child—which she tried in vain to shrink away from.
Then they parted. Solder was just about to brush it off, turn, and make another go at the sunflower, but something caught his eye. While the mouse’s bag-strap once had a neat row of gems pinned to it, now half—a good eight or so—were missing. Solder blinked once, not believing the weasel could’ve pulled it off so seamlessly, but…
No, they were gone.
And the weasel had just reached the thicker crowds up the street.
Solder considered saying something, but… well, he didn’t really care that much about some stolen jewellery. Still, a nagging voice lurking in the back of his mind. Imagine if he showed up to the guild with a criminal in tow. It was just a petty criminal, sure, but his resume was a big, fat nothing right now. He’d take anything.
Solder took a quick glance back to the shopkeeper, still chatting away endlessly. It’s not like she was going anywhere.
With that, he took off, following the blaring yellow collar as it bobbed through the crowds. He lost sight as they turned a corner and, for a second, Solder paused. The weasel simply disappeared. Solder blinked, glancing around some scattered groups of pokemon in the otherwise empty street for a telltale flash of colour. For a while he was stumped. Then he noticed an alley—or, more of a construction error between houses. Any pokemon too much bigger than Solder wouldn’t be able to fit.
He crept up, peeking around the corner.
If Solder hadn’t followed him, the alley might’ve been paradise for the thief. It was easy to skip over, easy to hide in. But instead of leading to another street, a heaping pile of broken furniture and scrap blocked the end. And there, crouched on an upturned wooden crate, the weasel examined his spoils, a grim frown on its muzzle.
Perfect.
Solder stepped around the corner and into the alley, blocking the only exit.
Only to realise he hadn’t thought of a plan.
“Hey, you… stop,” he said, good criminal-stopping words lost on him. He couldn’t muster up the enthusiasm for it either, so his voice came weakly, like he was reciting a speech. “Drop the pins, weasel.”
The weasel looked up, blinking owlishly.
“Weasel? Wow, I haven’t heard that one since I was just a little scamp chasing after fish in the bay. You need some better material, kid; it’s bui-zel.” He winked and gave Solder a crude smile, but after a second it dropped. “Hey, wait—you’re a bit of a weasel yourself, aren’t you?”
Solder blinked. He looked down at his long, furry torso. Was he?
“That’s not important,” he huffed, letting his shoulders slump.
“And you can’t just accuse me of something like that! What proof do you have?”
“I saw it.” Solder pointed at his eyes with a nubby paw, then he glanced back over the pins sitting on another crate beside the weas— ah… buizel. “I still see it, actually.”
The buizel hesitated for a moment, the twin tails behind him spinning slowly. Then he followed Solder’s gaze, slowly, slowly, until he reached the pins. He must’ve just remembered they were there because, with a quick flick of his paw, he knocked them to the dirty alley floor.
“Woah, how’d those get there? Haha!” He chuckled awkwardly. Solder returned the buizel’s forced smile and shrug with a flat scowl. “That’s so weird! Anyways, I’ll be going, now. Got… important… things to do, ya’know?”
The buizel stood, dusted himself off and started a casual stroll towards Solder, stopping once he noticed that Solder had advanced further and stood up, bracing himself against both walls of the alley in a makeshift barricade.
“No, I think you’ll be going with me.” Solder said, forcing his voice deeper. Inwardly, he was faintly happy with the way the buizel held his paws up to his chest and stepped back. Solder’d intimidated him, at least a little bit.
It was a much better line than before, to be fair.
“What, you wanna battle?” the buizel said, shaking out of his hesitation and crouching. “I’m game.”
Solder raised an eyebrow. While he thought he could certainly take the other pokemon, he’d rather not have to fight. Ever. Luckily, he had a much better idea.
“What if I just scream?” Solder asked and the buizel hesitated again. “Like: ‘Help, this monster’s attacking me!’ or something?”
“Umm… don’t?”
By the way the buizel’s eyes widened and his tails’ spinning slowed to a stop, Solder knew he couldn’t resist the idea. With a glint in his eye, he took a deep breath through his nose. Then he let it out in a harsh shout.
“HELP! Help, he’s—“
Solder was cut off as the buizel lunged, slamming into him, eliciting a winded ‘oof’ and knocking them both to the ground in a tangle of limbs. While Solder lay, stunned, beneath the buizel straddling him, he felt two paws wrap around his muzzle and hold it in a firm clamp.
He blinked the stars from his eyes and squinted at the shaky smile of the buizel looming above him.
“Okay! Okay, um… let’s just calm down. If I let go, will you scream again?”
Solder nodded. The buizel’s smile dropped completely. He shifted on top of Solder.
“Oh.” His jaw clamped shut with a sharp clack. Solder jerked back and forth beneath him, struggling to get free.
The buizel grunted and put more pressure on Solder’s chest, forcing a jolt of pain through his lungs, exhaling harshly into the paws clamped around his muzzle. The buizel opened his mouth again.
Then Solder watched his pupils dilate, catching on something at the mouth of the alley. The sharpness of a brief exhale echoed from behind Solder and he craned his neck, struggling to wrench himself from the buizel’s grasp. Still, he managed to catch an upside-down glimpse of another yellow duck standing behind them, a deep spark of fear in its eyes.
“I’m not kidnapping him!” The buizel snapped, jerking backwards without releasing Solder. “I’m not! We’re just— wait, no! Not that! Ah— wow, there’s really no way to make this look good, is there?”
The duck didn’t look like it had been listening at all. It took a tentative step back, then one more; then that turned into a sprint.
Solder couldn’t help but snicker under the buizel’s weight. He and the buizel shared a look—one uneasy, one amused.
Though that amusement didn’t last long. This was… certainly not how Solder imagined this going, but if someone else got involved, he bet they’d just steal his thunder. Give him a pat on the back, maybe, then take the buizel off his hands.
Taking advantage of the buizel’s momentarily stunned state, Solder finally managed to wrench his face from the vice grip holding it.
“Wait!” He said, before the buizel could jerk forward and catch him again. “I’ll be quiet. Let’s just talk, alright?”
The buizel kept his paws up as if waiting for Solder to bite, but after a moment of nothing he reluctantly dropped them, dropped his guard, and nodded. Solder took the opportunity to push himself off the ground. The buizel tumbled off him with a startled yelp, hitting the alley floor and laying stunned on his back for a moment before he scrambled deeper into the alley.
“Look, I don’t really care about the pins that much,” Solder said.
“What? Then why did you cause a scene?”
“It was funny.”
Solder didn’t smile, but he wanted to as he watched the buizel’s bemused expression grow. Then the other pokemon shook it off, forced a smile and cleared his throat. Solder noticed the way his tails spun more vigorously behind him.
“W-well then. What can I do for a… fine mon like you?” The buizel tried for a casual lean against the wall. It didn’t work, mostly because his orange fur was a matted mess of dirt. It looked more yellow than orange. “If you want a cut, I’m telling you now I’m not selling the spoils.”
Solder paused, actually needing to think about the question. What he wanted was to get credit for catching a thief, which the guild could apparently help with. Except, he still didn’t know where the guild was.
Right. He forgot about that.
So maybe his plan wasn’t very well thought out. Or thought out at all. Although…
“Can you take me to the guild?” Solder said.
For a second—where the buizel scrunched up his muzzle and gave Solder an odd look—Solder thought he saw through it, but as quickly as it came, it left.
“What?” The buizel stood up from the wall. “That’s it? Sure. You won’t tell anyone if I do, right?”
“Yeah.”
No.
The buizel’s smile returned with a vengeance. He sauntered over to Solder, trying to slip by him and out the mouth of the alley. It was a nice try, but Solder managed to wrap an arm around the buizel’s shoulders—just enough to catch him if he tried to run. Still, the other pokemon didn’t seem to mind as they walked out of the alley together, practically conjoined with how close they were.
“Alright! I’m Larcen, by the by,” the buizel said, returning Solder’s favor by throwing his own arm around the quilava. Solder grunted under the weight and the irritating scratch of the buizel’s dust-stiff fur against his face. “May I know the name of my co-thief?”
“Solder.” He didn’t bother to dignify that last part.
“Weird name.”
Solder just bit his tongue.
~(0)~
There wasn’t a chance in the world Solder would’ve found the guild on his own. Not only was it not in the city, it was a kilometre out, through winding dirt paths that snaked around and over cliffs, until they converged and cut through a valley. According to Larcen, this was the only way out of Seafolk on foot.
The flat roof of a gatehouse greeted Solder and Larcen in the distance, over a hill, and Solder breathed a sigh of relief. After a long day, the sight was a blessing. It helped that the mountains were quiet and awash in a fresh breeze that welcomed him to his destination.
They chatted all the while. Solder tried to resist, at first, but Larcen eroded him over the course of a thousand words. He went on about Seafolk, mostly. Solder didn't have much to say. He just gave vague half- truths and shrugs.
But by holding his tongue, he learned nothing. So he talked. Latched onto easy, mundane details.
“I got a lot of pokemon tiptoeing around me in town.” He asked, strolling beside Larcen. They’d stopped dangling off each other as they entered the valley. Now, Solder glowered at Larcen’s back as the buizel waded in the neck-high grasses growing from the cliff base, picking flowers as he passed. “A merchant was talking about ‘my type’, whatever that means. Do I look like a punk to you?”
Larcen turned, staring at Solder with a quirked eyebrow. His whiskers twitched. A limp bouquet of irises dangled from his paw.
“It’s ‘cause you’re a firestarter,” he said. Then he gave a small smile, as if what he said made sense.
Solder looked at himself with a frown. What was different about him? Were all quilava arsonists here? Did that make all buizel thieves? Solder waited until they were on the road again before talking, letting the awkward silence simmer between them. He stared at the back of Larcen’s head, watching it bob through the flowers.
“How can anyone tell I’m an arsonist? Not that I am, of course, but you seem to think so.” Solder said.
Larcen paused, turned, and gave him an open-mouthed stare.
Maybe he shouldn’t have asked that.
“You— “ Larcen’s voice came as a whisper. He composed himself. “Are you okay? You know what you are, right?”
“A quilava. I’m confused, not stupid.”
“Yeah, but… your type?”
Solder froze, staring off into the mists swirling in the valley, past the guild. Type… type… had he heard anything about type? It sounded like a judgement of personality, but maybe it was a little more significant.
So Solder stammered for a few moments, feeling like his brain was stuck in sap.
“Ars— heat… heat type. No! Fire! Fire makes sense. Fire type.”
Solder turned back to Larcen. Needless to say, the buizel’s tense muscles and confused frown were not reassuring.
“Okay…” he drawled. “What type am I?”
Any pride that warmed Solder’s chest at the ‘okay’ fled as he looked at the buizel. He bit his lip and tried to think.
I’ve got no clue. What type is a thief? Stealing type? That swim-ring collar of his might be a clue, but what type can’t swim?
“Umm… land?”
Larcen smiled, but it barely breached his cheeks.
“Wow, you might be stupid, then. That’s not even a type.”
“How would you know?”
“There’s only eighteen of them. I’m water.”
That explains the fins...
“Why the collar, then? Weird fashion choice; can’t you swim?”
Larcen grinned, giving his collar a firm tug.
“I can’t take it off. It’s a part of me, actually.”
Solder hummed and turned away, avoiding Larcen’s suspicious smile. Maybe it was best he shut up for a while; the last few minutes have been nothing but him putting his foot in his mouth over and over again. He burned up beneath his fur despite the light breeze. He didn’t know anything about himself before the ship, but somehow he got the impression he wasn’t used to being put on the spot like this—being so ignorant he couldn’t understand the most obvious concepts.
“You okay, Solder? This is getting less funny and more sad.”
Solder thought about it for a while, the scuffing of his feet across the dirt path and Larcen rustling through the grass melting into background noise. Eventually, the guild became more than a flat-roofed gatehouse as they grew closer. Now, Solder spotted some jutting wooden structures hanging from a particularly large cliff behind it, framed by windows carved into the lower cliff face.
As tempted as he was to deny anything was wrong, to keep lying forever, he realised that he’d already failed, to no one's surprise, least of all his own. But eventually he’d have to trust somebody, and it wasn’t likely Larcen would forget about that one weird pokemon that knew nothing about anything.
All of a sudden a faint, irritating spark of guilt clogged Solder’s throat. He coughed.
Fine…
“Look,” Solder said, letting his frustration out in a weary sigh. “I woke up a couple weeks ago, beaten nearly to death, remembering nothing—not even my own name—and being shipped to… well, here. It’s not a big deal or anything, just... confusing and frustrating and terrible.” He took a deep, deep breath, the pressure high enough he felt like a balloon. Then he let it slip out through his nose. It felt hotter than it should as it passed over his chest.
Larcen winced and clicked his tongue once, the sharp sound barely reaching Solder.
“That… sucks. I kinda feel bad now,” Larcen said.
“Don’t. It’s not your fault.”
“Nah, not for that.” Larcen toyed with his whiskers, his pace slowing to a crawl. He refused to elaborate beyond that, even as the duo walked in silence.
At this point, the wide, arching doorway of the guild crept out from behind the gatehouse, into Solder’s vision. Created from massive stone bricks, it looked plain besides the illegible runes marking the top of it.
“If you want to know about types, I can give you a nice little catch-up when we get in the guild. For now…” Larcen smiled and held out his fistful of drooping violets.
Solder glared at them. What was he supposed to do? Eat them?
He plucked one and gave it a sniff. It smelled like grass and sugar.
“Am I supposed to feel better, now? What’s the point of this?”
Larcen didn’t take back his hand. His smile froze a moment too long.
“It’s an apology, I guess. Thought I’d trick the foolish newcomer, but oops, he has head problems! And now who’s the fool?” He pointed to himself and rolled his eyes. “Me, like usual.”
It took entirely too long for Solder’s brain to catch up, looking from Larcen to the guild, then back again. Then back again…
“You—”
“That’s right! Welcome to Seafolk guild, home of me! And other pokemon, too, but I’m obviously the most important.”
Larcen’s cheeky wink did nothing to soothe Solder’s pounding heart and grinding teeth. The heat in his chest boiled. He raised himself up on two legs and opened his maw to say something, to spit maybe.
Instead, when his lips parted a spurt of red-hot flame licked across the paw clenching Larcen’s violet, charring it in an instant, spilling out across his fist and swallowing it in a blanket of fire. He yelped and threw himself back, hitting the dirt wide-eyed as he shook his paw, desperately willing the fire to…
It vanished. Actually, it was never there. There was no searing heat, just the faintest hint of it. The tan fur on his paw was just… ruffled. Mildly.
“Uh…” Anger gone, Solder looked to Larcen.
“Yeah, that’s the whole ‘fire type’ thing I was talking about.” Larcen said. Then, noticing the still-smoldering flower lying in the dry grass, spat a stream of water at it as casually as a snap of the fingers.
That was about the moment Solder’s brain melted.
“That’s… not possible.”
“Yes… it… is?”
Solder clambered back to his feet and crawled to the flower—now sad and petalless and dripping—sniffing it as if it wasn’t real. He turned to Larcen and wrinkled his brow, waiting. For what, he didn’t know. An explanation, maybe, but Larcen only shrugged and Solder let out a hot breath through his nose; no flames escaped this time.
Right, this is how things were. No matter who he was and what was impossible to him, the world would work without his permission.
So he just let it simmer in the back of his mind.
“So what’re ya here for?” Asked Larcen. Solder paused, raising an eyebrow at him.
“You couldn’t have just told me?”
“It was funny.”
Solder decided it was best to just breathe. Sit there, take in some clean air and calm the nausea and frustration and quaint little urge to do violence to a weasel.
He looked around. He’d barely noticed, but they’d reached the foot of the gatehouse. It was a flat-roofed wooden building with more heavy wooden slats barring the windows, floating a good inch above a desk that stretched across the outside. It looked like some kind of border control booth, complete with a sliding gate beside it—stretching across the gap between the gatehouse and the cliff beside it.
“You wanted our help with something, right? And as an… ah apology for leading you on, I’ll take you on now, instead of putting you through the whole rigmarole, y’know?” Larcen continued, leaning in and giving Solder a condescending pat on the back.
Solder had half a mind to bite his hand. He huffed and focused on more important things.
“So this is the guild, huh?” Solder squinted at the entrance beyond the gate—the blocky stone arch etched with strange runes. “What’s that say?”
Solder dreaded the sharp, inhaled hiss Larcen let out beside him.
“Just ‘Seafolk Guild.’ Can’t you read?”
Great. Can’t read either. Can act, can’t read, what’s even the point of trying?
“Is there a cliff I can jump off around here?” Solder snapped.
Larcen let out a dry chuckle. He patted him once again, which transitioned into a warm arm around his neck. Solder groaned under Larcen’s weight.
“Slow down a bit, kid.”
“I’m older than you.”
“Eh, you don’t know that.”
Solder gave up at this point, just leaning into the buizel and letting him lead the way. Closing his eyes and just breathing. He could pretend it worked, but really it left him shaking like a leaf in a storm.
“I want to join the guild,” Solder said. Larcen stopped.
“Really?”
There was a faint hint of disbelief to his voice, just a whisper under his tone. Solder simply shrugged under Larcen’s arm and nodded slowly.
“I can probably make it happen. You’re sure, though? You were looking around town for the guild so you’ve probably heard… things…”
He just sighed and nodded again.
“Alright!” Larcen unlatched himself from Solder and clapped his paws together. “Come on, we need some help to open the gate.”
Larcen wandered off, letting Solder trail behind. He sauntered around the corner of the gatehouse, then back. He ambled around a pile of rocks. Finally, he let out a sharp cry as he rustled through a scraggly Laurel bush on a little outcropping overlooking the road. Solder, who’d been right behind him, narrowly avoided trodding on the buizel’s tails as stepped forward, sidling against the scratchy branches and wax leaves of the bush. Two new pokemon sat there. One, a black-and-blue lion lazing about in an empty patch of grass; and the other, a tall, graceful creature with a flowing white dress and a crop of green hair.
“There you are! Solder, meet Veille luxray and Auloin gardevoir, they’re some other guild members.”
The tall one—the gardevoir, from Larcen's point—turned to face him. She had a clipboard in her hands and a flat, unimpressed look on her face. Her other hand clutched a stick of charcoal, the dusty black smearing against her hand.
“Where did you come from?” Auloin said, her voice monotonous but with an odd edge, like she was waiting to cut him with it. “You couldn’t possibly have come through the valley. We would’ve noticed. Certainly not through the mountains. Veille?”
The luxray—who Solder only now noticed had been sleeping—grumbled and rolled over. She blinked and yawned widely, showing off her fangs. Solder grimaced as the sunlight glinted off them, like a mouthful of little mountains.
“I was watching…” Veille grumbled, then turned to face Solder and Larcen. Her eyes were piercing and gold, sharp even through tired tears. “Oh. Hello,” she said. Then she turned back over, stretched out and relaxed into the grass again. “Sorry about my disposition. I’m nocturnal. Gives me an edge. You know, a healthy luxray sleeps eighteen hours a day.”
Larcen turned to Solder and rolled his eyes as if the quilava was in on the joke.
“That’s great, Veille, but we need—“
“That’s hardly true,” Auloin cut in, leaving Larcen’s mouth flapping open, “a healthy luxray only needs twelve hours. Besides, what possible advantage could you gain from a nocturnal lifestyle rather than a diurnal one—You’re apex, even in the current ecosystem where your prey is immobile and your territory drawn on deeds.” Auloin hummed and tapped the stick of charcoal in her hand on her clipboard, then pointed it at Solder. “Now, considering I haven’t missed any travellers coming into Seafolk—which I doubt I have—I can only assume you came by boat.”
Solder stared down the length of her charcoal stick as it hovered centimeters from his nose. It seemed to stare back.
“Yeah?”
“Heh,” Veille huffed, “a quilava on a boat. That’s a good one.”
Solder flashed back to his time on the boat. All that time spent hunched over a sick bucket or in bed, eating gruel and trying desperately to fall asleep so the nightmare would pass quicker. In his mind, a wave crashed over the harbour and he felt the sudden urge to retch.
“Oh, yeah,” he drawled, dipping his voice and glaring at the back of Veille’s head. “I was laughing the whole way here.”
Larcen took the moment to jump in.
“Yeah! Haha, good joke. Very funny. Listen, Auloin we need you for just a sec—“
“Oh! Veille.” Auloin jumped up, her eyes flashing a bright pink. “Someone’s coming down the path.”
Sense?
Veille grumbled and cracked a single eye open. The motion lasted half a second before she closed it again, but Solder swore he saw a sliver of golden light slip from under eyelid.
“Hmmm… one serperior. Two servine. Goodnight; try not to wake me up again.”
Auloin quickly scribbled something on her clipboard, but Solder barely noticed, taking a sudden interest in the road, too busy peeking through a gap in the spindly branches surrounding him. There, framed in a little window created by the yellow-green leaves, a group of pokemon passed along the trail—a long, green snakelike one pinned between two smaller snakes. Snakes, with legs.
“Uh… yeah,” Larcen said, smoothing out his whiskers, “Speaking of awesome powers, could you open the gate for us?”
“If that’s what you wanted, why didn’t you say so earlier?”
Larcen groaned. Veille yawned. Solder ignored them, wishing he could sleep like the luxray stretched out on the grass. The same pink glow as earlier returned to Auloin’s eyes and, although the effect wasn’t immediately obvious, soon a faint, hollow grinding sound emanated from behind him. He turned just in time to watch the gate slide open—nestling itself behind the gatehouse.
Solder did his best not to let his persistent headache lay him out. Or his jaw hit the floor. It was fine. Everything was fine. Lions can see through walls! Weasels can spit elements! Telekinesis exists! He was certain these things weren’t supposed to happen, but he couldn’t fashion a single reason why not. And now the fresh mountain air started to taste a bit sour.
“Okay. Alright," Solder said. "No, that’s good. Let’s get inside, I think I need to lie down.”
Solder pushed through the bush, Larcen, mumbling a goodbye to Veille and Auloin. The gardevoir waved them off without a word as they padded down the hill, Solder almost sliding down on a patch of wet grass. Larcen didn’t laugh, to his credit, but Solder still caught his smile.
“Auloin is a psychic type, that’s how—“
“No. Shut up. I’m serious about lying down. Guilds are supposed to have places to sleep, right? Just let me get some rest.”
Larcen only shrugged, unoffended.
Solder thanked him in silence and they continued walking past the open gate and gatehouse. Beyond that, before the open arch of the guild, lay a quaint little square of trodden grass and dirt. Some brick planter boxes overflowing with massive red flowers and vines and scraggly, stunted trees sat in the middle. The entire place was framed with bulletin boards. Two of them were empty, the two on the other side were plastered with notices, all scrawled with frustrating, wandering runes. Solder turned away from them.
“Here we are,” Larcen said, nearly whispering, as they passed under the stone arch. “Welcome to Seafolk guild...”
His voice echoed faintly down the long, stone-carved hallway beyond the arch. The hallway itself was dark, mostly stark beside some unlit lamps hanging from the ceiling and framed somethings that hung off the wall.
Then they reached the middle—the dark center of the hallway, where Solder couldn’t feel the sun on his back and the light from the room at the end couldn’t reach his eyes. A moment of blessed calm hit him there. He hesitated a bit and let Larcen skip ahead. It almost felt like he’d closed his eyes even though he could still see the light.
The last few seconds before the guild were spent in blissful silence.
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