Pokémon Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Dual Wills

[JFought]

Hey there! This is a fic I’ve had my eye on for a while, so I'm taking this year's Review Blitz as an opportunity to check it out! What I know going in is that it is very focused on medieval worldbuilding and takes inspiration from Fire Emblem. I checked the first three chapters for this review, so let's get to it!

Thoughts on Chapters 1 to 3.

• First chapter is very much a setup chapter. We're introduced to Elvira and her mother, their relationship and circumstances are established, we get some backstory on Elvira's father and what her relationship to him was like, and then of course, a fateful beachside meeting. It might just be the third-person omniscient, but I do like the way Elvira’s given focus here. The conflicts at play are doing a lot to help set her up as the main character in my mind, and I’d say the chapter overall is pretty effective.
• Poor Riolu ^^;. I like his panic here (take that out of context), it’s always interesting to see how PMD fics handle this moment. And I think this one does well in feeling appropriate, and also communicating a lot about where his knowledge of Pokémon is without having to waste too much time explaining it.
• I think I vibe with the dialogue in this fic. If Fire Emblem is what you’re going for, then I feel it: the word choice and general pacing feels fairly appropriate for the time-period and vibe you’re going for, in a fairly subtle way that reminds me of FE 6/7/8/9 a bit.
• That’s a big lore dump in the middle of the chapter there. I find myself torn on it, tbh. On one hand, I like the amount of effort you put into giving this setting its own stories to tell: Chapter 2 does a good job at establishing a sense of history, and considering the vibes you’re going for, that’s a good thing! On the other hand, that’s a lot of information to dump on the reader in the middle of a chapter like that. Like, way too much, you could halve it and it would still accomplish the intended effect, and it just kind of drags the chapter down to a halt. I find myself wondering if maybe there could have been a way to space some of this information out over the course of multiple chapters. It’s still interesting, I do think it has a place in the fic, the execution as-is just creates a bit of a pacing problem. But I suppose by now the fic’s a little too far along to consider those kinds of things, and this does get it out of the way at least. I’m just relaying how I felt about it.
• I like the variety in the locales we’re getting a preview of, as well as the pretense of “maybe we can find out where you’re from” for looking into the atlas. Again, if FE is the inspiration, it’s reminding me of the way various countries would be introduced in the GBA games through short narration segments early on. Letting us know who the major players are and what roughly to expect from them moving forward.
• And it’s time for the first Mystery Dungeon! Chapter 3 mostly consists of the dungeon crawl and battle against the Thorned Roses. I think I want to reserve most of my thoughts on them for now, as we still don't know much about them yet.
• I like the way you portray Elvira’s hesitancy. There’s the literal hesitancy in her dialogue, but there’s also her hesitancy to take action, follow her dreams, and have hope. Arian making that big push to get through that hesitancy establishes what I imagine will be the core of their dynamic going forward, and it's a good note to end the chapter on.

Spoiler: Typos and Prose Comments

She sat. She sat down on one of the chairs with a footstool in front of it,

This reads like it could be a stylistic choice, but it also reads weird regardless.

Heading to the kitchen, the Treecko headed to the kitchen to make that morning's breakfast.

A bit of repetition here.

She was dying to know that who that Riolu was.

"And then there's Eldisholm." Elvira pointed to the island off Ardalion's southern coast. This is...a bizarre country when it comes to climate.

Missing a quotation mark here.

""They are. Berries are found just about everywhere in Ardalion," explained Elvira.

The book in question was entitled The Basic Facts of Pokémon: Vol. 6, Q-T that detailed a variety of Pokémon, of which Riolu and Treecko were included in the book in question.

"This Mystery Dungeon isn't too difficult. This place would be too much of a handful for her.

I think you meant to use "wouldn't" here

More of a general comment... The prose in these early chapters I'd say is one of their weaker aspects, though I'm chalking that up to being "early chapter syndrome" and I'd imagine you've likely improved since then, so I don't want to harp on it. I think, if there's anything that bothered me in particular, it's that I noticed there's a lot unnecessary ellipses, especially in the dialogue. While I'd say it's warranted about half the time, the other half of the time it feels superfluous and only really drags things down. But since I don't know how useful such a critique would be to you, I'll hold off on giving the "ellipses spiel." It's something to keep in mind, either way.

In general, the vibe I get from these opening chapters is very much “we have some PMD opening tropes, let’s get them out of the way real quick.” And so the main intrigue at play is Elvira and the world itself. Right now, I’d say Elvira is the star of the show: she seems to be a very hesitant character, wanting to live up to her father, but due to the circumstances surrounding his disappearance, not having the courage to do so, believing that chance to have left her. You do a good job getting that across with her dialogue and relationships, and while Arian is mostly just an observer trying to get his bearings in these early chapters, I don’t really have a problem with him. I think the slower pace and focus on introducing Elvira’s character and these various worldbuilding elements reduces the urgency in having to quickly build Arian up: I can accept there’s more to him to come later on, and that right now, he’s dealing with his amnesia and trying to figure out what exactly to do with himself. I’m also interested in seeing more of the world and just what Mitrofan has done to it. We’re mostly confined to Elvira and Zenobia’s home, and only in Chapter 3 do we start seeing what things are like outside of it, so I imagine the world is going to continue to expand in the near future.

As far as intros go, this fic has a very humble start, but I think it works for the most part. I’m sorry if that feels like damning with faint praise, it’s just kind of the nature of slower intros that I can’t comment on execution too much ^^;. What matters is that I think you did a good job, the vibes are there, and I’m curious to check out more!

 

[StolenMadWolf]

Righto, been a while since I’ve read this fan-fic, and since we’re both on the Review Blitz, I figured this would be as good a time as any to go ahead and have a go at reviewing this again! I’ll be going through Chapters 6 and 7 for this particular fanfic. As a reminder and disclaimer again, I tend to focus on worldbuilding, characters and plot, but I’ll also turn my attention towards writing and grammar too.

Spoiler: Chapter 6-7 Review

I’m going to do something a bit different here and turn my attention to the writing itself first, as a bunch of stuff I’d comment on would end up linking to this. I’m fairly sure I might have commented on this before and it’s completely understandable if you wouldn’t want to go back and change things – I’m guilty of that! – but I feel like it’s been long enough and apparent enough to mention it now. For a start, these chapters are looking massive. Like, completely massive. 10K plus chapters can be quite challenging to read, whetever it’s casual or part of the reviewing process. There are a few points where the longer lengths would be justified by each chapter essentially summing up an entire day, and Chapter 6 nearly had me consider this until I connected the dots between Chapters 5 and 7. That… would actually make the length have a pretty good story/structural reason for being the case, but they are still beefy chapters either way.

It doesn’t help in both chapters, and again, keeping a note on my point above, the chapters feel very bloated. Like several paragraphs worth of lines could actually be comfortably cut from the story or summarised very quickly, especially in the Mystery Dungeons. Some of the events don’t need to receive so much detail as they otherwise feel inconsequential – they could get cut and would still allow a solid idea of the story itself. Alternatively, some chapters could quite comfortably be split up, just to make reading the story easier. Furthermore, some of the characters do sound similar, with a bit of redundant dialogue eg. “Let’s find this ______” or repeating things that the narrator has already stated. All of this kinda pads out the Chapters more than needed, which could spook a few readers online without bookmarks. A quick glance at the threadmarks does show that the latest chapters do seem to cut down in word count a bit, so that’s nice to see.

But let’s put that aside now and focus on the story itself for a minute. Compared to the previous chapters, we do have a bit more going on behind the scenes. We get a bit more of a look around the town itself, then turn out attention to the typical luck of running multiple jobs in the same dungeon at once. I do wish some more drama occurred, but given they are starting dungeons, it also makes sense as well. It’s still a slow burn, but we do start seeing signs of things beginning to move, namely with the addition of the two shopkeepers, Caitriona and Conall. They are definitely an intriguing bunch of characters, well-meaning, but pragmatic and willing to play with people’s heads a bit. They’ve already pretty much emerged as my immediate favourites in the story, and I hope more of them creep in through the door. Hinnerk and Mikhail are also interesting, giving us a glimpse of the first direct villains of the story. Mikail totally has Starcream vibes, I won’t be surprised if he does something slippery later. Hinnerk having a direct connection to Elvira’s dad though… ooof, looks like things are going to get nasty very quickly down the line, and by extension, Adrian aswell. Our two protagonists still sound very similar, but I am hoping that the incoming drama will allow for them to be differenated more. In addition, a wider cast is slowly being expanded, so we’ll see how that develops as well.

Overall, things are beginning to speed up, and with some new interesting characters thrown into the mix. The plot itself seems very good, slow burning, but it does have potential. The main challenge comes from the structure of the chapters, but again, I don’t blame you for not going back to edit them. The number of chapters I have linking all over the place has put me off doing that, but it is something to keep in mind. Keep on writing and hope this helps you out!

 

[windskull]

He Arukona, I’m back for another review! This time, I’m covering three chapters - chapters 3-5. Let’s get right to it.

Chapter 3
As I read through the chapter, this was the point where I realized this was going to be a fairly traditional formulaic opening to a PMD fic. That’s not to say it’s a bad thing, because plenty of people love it. It’s just an observation.

This chapter introduces us to how mystery dungeons work in your fic and also introduces us to what I suspect will be the act one smaller antagonist before we start dealing with the bigger problems. Something that will be difficult for our heroes to overcome but that will be a sign of their progress.

There is one thing I want to critique in this chapter, and it may be something that you’ve improved on since, but its that the battles, especially the first two, almost feel too… game-like, if that makes sense. It feels very formulaic, like we throw a punch, wait for the opponent to strike back, and then throw a second punch to win. That’s not to say that you needed to go in depth (with the first two at least) but something a little more descriptive would have been nice.

This is improved somewhat in the last battle, but there’s still shades of it. Don’t just tell me that she used absorb, for example, show me how she does it, show me how her opponent punishes her for getting close enough to use absorb, if there’s a physical aspect to how she does it.

Plot wise, though, this is the moment where they bring up the idea to make a team. It sounds like Elvira gained a little confidence from her victory, but I’m sure there’s a long way to go.

Chapter 4
This chapter seems like a bit of a cool down. We get back, make dinner, spend some time with friends. But we also present the idea of Elvira and Arian becoming mercenaries in all but name to her mother. Which. I’m glad they did (didn’t think they wouldn’t, of course). I am a bit surprised that the two friends decided to stay when I’m sure Tamara’s parents are worried sick about her, but I imagine it was getting late and it probably isn’t a great idea for her to travel alone. Especially when she might get targeted by the Thorned Roses again.

Chapter 5
Chapter 5 starts out with breakfast and some send-off gifts from Zenobia. I get the feeling we will be coming back before too long unless something happens to keep them apart.

Then the group uses a secret tunnel to sneak into town. We’d already been told that the shake down from the Thorned Roses was bad, what with the outlandish, soaring rent prices and the kidnapped mon, but we see a bit more of it here with the expensive toll just to enter the city. I do have to wonder just how big this town is, because I feel like the fact that Tamara’s family isn’t using the gate is going to get noticed before too long. But maybe I’m just overthinking things.

Okay, that’s three chapters. Let’s talk overall thoughts. Up to this point the story has followed a pretty traditional PMD structure. The human wakes up and is rescued by the partner character. They go on a beginner dungeon together and then form a team. I wonder if the story is going to continue to be fairly formulaic for a while, or if it’s going to break away soon. I feel like it could go either way, but given the fic’s length I suspect we’ll be sticking to it for a while at least.

If there’s one thing I would critique, I kind of feel like you overuse or over rely on the ellipsis. I had noticed it before but the point at which it became distracting was chapter 5. A quick search brings up that there’s over 100 uses of the ellipsis in this chapter alone, mostly in dialog. In several instances where an ellipsis is used a comma would have been grammatically correct and conveyed the same thing - a brief pause. I know this is an early chapter so it may not be as noticeable later, but I still felt it was worth mentioning.

I could also make an argument that we have a fairly slow start, but I think I need to read more before I make a judgement on that; it might be intentional, after all.

Critiques aside, I do think the story is off to a good, if a bit slow, start. I do want to read more at some point. I don’t know if I’ll get to it during the blitz, but I’ll keep it in mind if I read any fic on my own time. So that will be it for now. Until next time.

 

[Spiteful Murkrow]

Heya, this one took a little while to finally get together, but I finally managed to slide back in to finish off that Iria arc that I left dangling from before this event. Tonight felt like as good a night as any to shove things out the door, so let's dive right into:

Chapter 17

Spoiler: Line-by-Line

"Damn him! Damn that stuck-up Dressie priest! How dare he tell us what to do!"

I see that Team Mitrofan is having a normal one right now. Though given that the Church appears to hail from Deselia, I see we’re doing all the Roman Catholic parallels right now.

Ludmila was raging at stomped and raged inside the knights' barracks, where she, Mitrofan, Nikita and Metody had reunited with Spiridon., who, True to his word, the Hawlucha had looked after Rufus while the others had focused on chasing down the four mercenaries and was quite surprised after. Once he'd been filled in on what had happened at the cathedral, the Hawlucha was quite surprised at what he'd heard.

Some suggested rephrasings here. There’s a number of issues jammed together, but the number one from which everything follows is that the first sentence is very long and unwieldy.

"Calm yourself, Ludmila," Mitrofan advised. "Being worked up will solve nothing."

"But he's an outsider trying to influence your decision-making, Master Mitrofan!" complained the Nidoqueen. "The last thing we need is the likes of the East controlling us like puppets on strings! That pontiff's as rotten as they come from that side of the continent!"

… I’m listening, Ludmila. Even if I wouldn’t exactly consider you a reliable narrator right now.

"...I would agree," Nikita seconded. "It was bad enough, having the noble families of Selenia try and manipulate the runnings of the Guild. But now the East?”

[ ]

“We can't have a return to the days when Selenia was controlled by the Eastern Alliance some two hundred years ago,” the Marowak insisted. “That Their callous negligence caused the Great Selenian Famine, and that, more than anything, was brought the darkest times our nation have ever faced. If not for the hero Gamaliel and Team Hope, then we may never have gotten out of that rut recovered from them."

Nikita’s dialogue IMO is long enough that it should be two parts with something in between. I also played around with some phrasing in the second portion of it to make it sound a bit smoother spoken out.

[ ]

"You are quite right, Nikita," Mitrofan agreed. "...But I'm not risking a war with the East. That was how Selenia lost its autonomy and got into that mess in the first place. Four mercenaries…It's simply not worth killing the pontifex over that four mercenaries. Even if it is Sansarn’s behavior was an affront…acting rashly now will only cause trouble down the line."

Some more odds and ends suggestions here. Though I see that Mitty does have a strategic mind under all that steely armor.

[ ]

"If I may ask, Master Mitrofan…don't you believe you are being paranoid?" Metody replied, his tone slightly critical. "He was bluffing to high hell, that pontiff. Apparently, from what I've heard, he's something of a divisive figure among the Eastern nobility, that Sansarn fellow. Many of them would probably rejoice at his death! We would be doing them a favour by getting rid of him!"

I’m beginning to understand why this guy is stuck in the capital running around after dissidents instead of having anything to do with foreign relations.

"No," Mitrofan shot back shut down. "I will not inflame tensions for this transgression alone. Besides…there is no evidence he has been ordered by the Dresilian Emperor or the Miletan Archon to do this. If the Pontifex sees fit to bar my path again, however…then there will be hell to pay."

Again, this is why you were supposed to have set up a Selenian Patriarchate so that way you could just “Lol. Lmao.” at Sansarn and the rest of his church whenever they tried to interfere in your affairs, Mitty.

The Aggron took a long breath afterwards this, still cross at being bested by Sansarn. His gaze then met Spiridon's, who was standing next to Rufus.

Rufus: “U-Um… do I really have to be here right now?”

"...How has he been, Spiridon?" he asked. "Not too much trouble, I hope?"

[ ]


"Nah, not at all," the Hawlucha replied. "He's been quiet. I think he's learned his lesson about straying into the Catacombs. …Haven't we, little Rufus?" he asked the boy.

[ ]


"...Yes…" the Growlithe mumbled mutedly, the guilt in his voice too evident. "I'm sorry…I promise I won't do it again. …Please…just let me go home…" he begged

That’s a bit of a different vibe than I was expecting, though I suppose getting a glorified “reason you suck” speech would kinda be murder to one’s mood.

[ ]

"...If you show signs of willingness to right your wrongs, and vow to never venture there again…then I accept your apology," Mitrofan responded. "Some people in this world are truly vile, with no hope of salvation. They deserve nothing short of brutal punishment. But…I can recognise an effort to repent when I see one."

[ ]


"...Really?" Rufus was genuinely surprised by the Aggron's merciful offer.

[ ]

"You misunderstand, boy. I am letting you off with a warning," Mitrofan clarified. "If you break the understanding we've reached…" A hard glare formed. "Then you will suffer the appropriate consequences, and there will be no third chance. Understood?"

More spots where it probably would’ve made sense to show off more of the characters’ reactions here. Though I wonder if Mitty was always this stern as a Guildmaster or if his current outlook is a product of whatever happened to turn him against House Ruslan.

"...Crystal," Rufus blurted, too terrified by Mitrofan's glare to say anything else.

Oh, so Rufus really is

-facing right now.

[ ]

"...Good. Let's bring you home. where I will speak with Dalibor there afterwards," the Aggron announced. [ ]

"Spiridon, Nikita, with me. Ludmila and Metody, return to your posts around the city,” he insisted. “We cannot focus all of our efforts on four mercenaries, nor let such a loss destabilise order in this city. There exist other criminals who would gladly take advantage of the distraction they created by those four mercenaries."

"Yes, Master Mitrofan!" Ludmila saluted.

Someone’s certainly a pragmatic type. I’ll admit that I hadn’t fully expected that from the way that Elvira spoke of him, but it would explain a thing or two about how his rule doesn’t have any meaningful challenges to power outside of the Irian Guild right now.

[ ]

"...As you wish, Master Mitrofan," Metody said.

"Be on your way. And let us away, as well." Mitrofan turned for the exit, accompanied by Nikita, Spiridon and Rufus.

Once they got onto the street, the Aggron knew which way to go. He'd travelled the route to the Grimmhatt Orphanage on many an occasion, when he'd visited Dalibor in the past, both as Guildmaster and as leader of Selenia.

Now, though, our time of mutual friendship may finally be coming to an end. I don't wish it to be, but…I will do what I must.

That… doesn’t bode well for what is going to happen to Dalibor there.

They winded their way through the streets. As he knew the way there as well, Spiridon led the group through the winding streets that led to the orphanage in question. As they approached the building in question, Mitrofan made a request to Spiridon.

"You go first," he said. "Dalibor will appreciate your presence more than mine." He then looked at Rufus, next to the Hawlucha. "...As would the boy, I would think," he added.

Oh, so Spiridon and Dalibor have history with each other, huh? Since I’m kinda getting that vibe right about now.

"Sure thing, Mitt," Spiridon obliged. "Come on, kiddo. Let's bring you home."

He walked ahead, with the Growlithe trailing him, and arrived at the gates of the orphanage. From the outside, it looked deserted, with no one in sight. That was to be expected; all of the children had been called inside for the night, and the lights were on inside.

Seeing this, Spiridon walked up to the orphanage doors and knocked three times. There was silence, until shuffling could be heard from the inside and the door opened.

"Good, you're back. Did you bring…" Dalibor's voice drifted off as he realised who was at the front door. "...Wait a minute. Spiridon? What are you doing here? I thought…" he trailed off, stopping his words there.

Spiridon: “You really do need to make a habit of keeping better tabs on your kids, Dalibor…” >v>;

"I came by to see my old companion's face once again," the Hawlucha replied, a smile coming across his face. "You doing well, Dali?"

These two are ex-teammates, aren’t they?

[ ]

"Getting by," the Grimmsnarl replied. "Although the orphanage is in a right state, what with Rufus' gallivanting off to the Catacombs…"

"That's also the main reason why I'm here." Spiridon gestured to the Growlithe beside him. "I'm here to bring this little one back home after he was caught trespassing there in the Catacombs."

[ ]


"...Rufus?" Dalibor looked down at the orphan. "You're back. …But why did you enter the Catacombs in the first place?"

Some more spots where it might’ve made sense to show off the characters’ reactions a bit more. Also, you mentioned “the Catacombs” three times in as many paragraphs, so you probably want to drop at least one instance of it.

"...I…I wanted to prove I was brave," Rufus confessed. "The other orphans said I was all talk. I thought if I went through the Irian Catacombs, then I'd prove them all wrong!" He then looked guiltily off to his side.

[ ]


"Bravery? …Rufus, that's no act of bravery," Dalibor chastised. He was worried for the boy, of course, but he was cross with him; after all, he had escaped into the forbidden Catacombs behind his back. "You could've been killed in that place! There's a good reason it's forbidden for the public to enter there, because of how dangerous it is! ...What do you have to say for yourself?"

[ ]


"I'm sorry!" the Growlithe apologised, in a voice that sounded truly remorseful. "I never realised how dangerous the place was, and what it would mean to you and all my friends if I died there! I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!" He began to shed tears once again.

Spiridon: “(Geez, kid, I thought you got that all out of you after we ran into you.)” .^.

"..." Dalibor's expression softened in the face of this afterwards. He was never one to remain cross for long in the face of those he looked after, especially toward those who were sorry for their misdemeanours.

"...Don't ever do something like that again, you hear? Cornelia, I and your friends were worried sick about you, wondering if you were okay."

"I won't…" Rufus snivelled, wiping tears from his eyes with his paws.

Also, he’s probably more than a little traumatized from Mitty not-so-subtly threatening to kill him if he was caught in the Catacombs again, but let’s not get into that right now.

"...Good. Go inside. We'll talk later." Rufus did so, heading inside and leaving the two men at the entrance. [ ]

"...He's an adventurous one, that Rufus," Spiridon remarked. "He actually got quite far into the Catacombs for a thirteen-year-old. The fourth floor, I think? I'm sure if his technique was honed, you wouldn't have to worry about him as much in the future. …Hey, maybe we could sign him up to be a squire in the knights? We could use someone with his determination."

IMO, you’re missing a moment where the narrative focus shifts over to Spiridon here. Though I see that Mitty’s knights already have a sort of apprentice system working. It makes me wonder if the knights already existed as an institution prior to him taking over or not.

"...We can discuss that another time," Dalibor said, feeling unsure at the marshal's suggestion. "Because there's another thing I'd like to speak to you about, Spiridon. …Why did you bring him here?"

"It's the duty of a knight to help those in need," Spiridon replied. "And as one of Mitrofan's loyal marshals, I have to uphold that duty more than any of the rank-and-file soldiers. I could hardly neglect that duty, could I?"

[ ]

"...I suppose not. But I thought…"

In a moment of sudden realisation of what he was about to say, he Dalibor held his tongue, so as not to give away that he had dispatched Teams Elpis and Anima to the Catacombs. However, Spiridon caught this slip, and immediately knew why.

Spiridon: “... Dalibor, is there something that you want to tell me here?”

[ ]

"...Oh, so you did send those four mercenaries into the Catacombs," he said, now able to confirm this fact for sure. "...Boy, Mitt won't be pleased about that. In fact…he's here right now to give you a talking to."

Dalibor: “Technically you don’t know that and that’s all conjecture right now.”

Spiridon: “I mean, if I didn’t know then, I sure do now.”

[ ]


"Mitt's here?" This was unexpected news to Dalibor.

"Yep, he sure is. He's out there with Nikita, by the gate. …Why not go out and talk to him?" the marshal suggested. "If you don't, he'll come here, and then those kids will hear the inevitable argument. I'd rather they not hear that."

… Are we sure that this is just going to be an argument there?

[ ]

"...You have a point," Dalibor conceded. "...At least I can see your way of convincing people hasn't lost its touch, Spiridon."

"You said it, partner." A look of reminiscence crossed Spiridon's face.

[ ]

"Good to see you looking out for those kids, Dali,” he said. “Y'know, not to say you weren't a bad merc, but…this feels more like your true calling. And at least your experience as a merc means you can defend them when they're in trouble.”

[ ]

“…You remember when it was me and you in Team Hair Trigger? Those were the days, weren't they?" He then looked off to the side, a shade of bitterness in what he said next. "…Shame what happened to you meant that we had to end our little collab together."

Some more spots where it probably makes sense to slow down and describe the character’s reaction more. And Spiridon’s paragraph of dialogue in particular is very, very dense at the moment. To the point where it’s arguably at least 3 smaller paragraphs smooshed together.

"...Yes. You were quite a good partner, Spiridon," Dalibor said to him. "But…that was the past. I'm retired as a merc now, and I want to look to the future. And that…is looking after these kids with Cornelia. I wouldn't go back to being a merc, even if it was allowed."

[ ]


"...You do you, Dali,” the Hawlucha said. “Oh, and tell Cornelia I said hi. I assume she's doing well these days? I knew you two were a good fit for one another.”

[ ]

“A pity you never had kids of your own with her, but I suppose why bother when you're surrounded by these adorable little tykes?” he mused. “Even if you have naughty ones like Rufus, it's still worth - "

"You can continue this conversation another time, Spiridon," Nikita interrupted brusquely from the entrance. "We have more business with Dalibor besides friendly chatter, if you recall."

Spiridon: “Er… right. Yeah, have fun with that chewout, Dalibor.”

"Don't worry, Niki. We're about done," Spiridon called back. "...I'd go to them if I were you. Mitt's not a man that likes to be kept waiting."

[ ]

"...If you insist." Dalibor stepped out into the cold night, and walked to the entrance, where he faced Mitrofan and Nikita. Both gave him a frigid, steely look.

Oh, that doesn’t bode well for Dalibor at all there.

"I know that face, Mitt," Dalibor began, dreading what was to come. "It never was a nice one in the Guild days, and…these days, it seems even more sour than before."

[ ]


"...That boy of yours certainly has ideas about bravery," Mitrofan replied, ignoring his old friend's comment. "But in the fashion of an amateur, he hasn't realised the difference between bravery and recklessness. Do you consider his actions brave, Dalibor?"

"No. Not at all," the fairy denied. "It was foolish for him to do that."

Dalibor: “Mitrofan, with all due respect, but can we get to the point here?”

[ ]

"Point proven. At the very least, the boy did not vandalise anything, nor did he rob any graves. And he is barely a juvenile. If he were older, this breach of regulations would have more serious ramifications. But because of his youth, I shall reduce it to a mere fine. Money that will be deducted from the donations I normally send you."

[ ]

"...Should've seen that coming," murmured the Grimmsnarl.

… Ouch. Like I get that Mitty is a very “the law must be upheld” sort of tyrant, but not even attempting to come to an understanding with the Orphanage of all places.

"Be grateful. Were Tsar Kliment in charge, that punishment would've been far more severe," Mitrofan went on. "He would give no mercy to any trespasser in the Catacombs, no matter their age. But Rufus is only a young juvenile child, and I feel that it is fitting that leniency should be exercised in his case, given his youth.”

[ ]

“I am kind enough to let him off this time, with the hope that he knows to keep out of the Catacombs in future. That being said…do keep a closer eye on that boy Rufus, Dalibor," he reprimanded. "He has potential, but he can't develop it into something better if he meets his maker too soon."

Mitty’s dialogue is long enough that it should be two parts. Though just saying “you get a free pass before I kill you, kiddo” is not a dramatic improvement from the Ruslans, Mitty.

"I'll do that. By the sounds of it, he's learned his lesson. I'll keep an eye on him, don't worry."

"...That's that sorted. But I'm not finished," Mitrofan continued. "...I had an interesting encounter, whilst in the Catacombs. Four mercenaries of the Irian Guild happened to descend into the Irian Catacombs, searching for Rufus. …They claimed you had sent them to rescue him. And of the four of them…"

Nikita produced the wanted poster of Arian and Elvira. [ ]

"...Two of them happened to be prominent outlaws. It is known news that Hinnerk was defeated by a Riolu and a Treecko, and they have the potential to set a precedent. …So why, pray tell, did you cooperate with them?"

Yeeeeeah, this isn’t boding well for Dalibor’s continued freedom. Or life expectancy at all, really.

"...You make it sound like I asked them to kill you or something," Dalibor remarked, though with no humour in his tone. "I didn't. All I asked them to do was rescue Rufus from his predicament. That's all. Nothing more. …So then let me ask you, Mitt. …Where are they? Why did you bring Rufus here, and not them?"

[ ]


"...You don't need to know where they are. I merely saw to the proper delegation of that responsibility to the knights, as it should be," Mitrofan answered. "The welfare of citizens should not be placed in the hands of outlaws like them. Especially those that pose a threat to my rule, and especially those who make their opposition to me quite clear."

[ ]


"...Are you listening to yourself, Mitt?" Dalibor said, astounded by what he was hearing. "You think they pose a threat to you because you make them out to be! It doesn't have to be like that. There surely can be a world where you're still the leader of Selenia, and the Irian Guild coexists! Have you even tried to make a settlement with Melchior over this?"

Mitrofan: “Dalibor, you know damn well why that is not possible between the two of us…”

[ ]

"...Melchior was adamant that he wanted nothing to do with me," the Aggron returned. "He has made quite a point of opposing my rule, and no doubt hopes to one day bring it down. And so I must respond in kind.”

[ ]

“If he exists as a pest that intends to obstruct my way at every turn, then I have no choice but to not ignore him,” Mitrofan continued. “To kick that can down the road would be to only create greater problems for my leadership in the long run."

Okay, yeah, Mitty’s grievance with the Ruslans has something to do with a perception of them being slow to use their power to a proper end, huh?

[ ]

"...Listen, Mitt," Dalibor began, trying to hold back his shocked anger at the Aggron's words. "I'm grateful for what you've done for the orphanage. Your donations to us have been a great help to Cornelia and I, who would struggle to feed and house the children otherwise. And…nor can I just forget the years of friendship between us, back in the days of the Guild. Even now…the very fact that you donate to the orphanage is proof, to me at least, that you still care."

Well, clearly not enough to cut your funding when one of your kids causes trouble in town. Though Dalibor’s anger here feels like something that should be built up before he was speaking, since I actually didn’t realize that he was getting upset up until this point.

"...Get to the point," Nikita bluntly replied for Mitrofan, his eyes narrowed with knowledge that there would be a turn to this.

[ ]


"...What went on in Ozerograd under Hinnerk…I've heard stories about that the things that happened in Ozerograd under Hinnerk," Dalibor said, his expression turned taking a resentful turn. "And I've heard the stories of his rampant corruption and perversion as the lord there. The fact you supported a man like him…it's unacceptable! If you truly claim yourself to be a benevolent ruler, then why? Why would you put stock in a man as vile as him?"

[ ]


"...I will say to you what I said to them. Hinnerk was all but a tool to be disposed of when I no longer had use for him," was the Aggron's reply. "I had my own plans to displace him, but…it would appear Arian and Elvira acted before I could constructively put such a plan in place."

Boy it sure is a good thing that the Taos are apparently non-entities in Ardalion, since I’m pretty sure that there’s myths of Zekrom peacing entire kingdoms that operate under this sort of mindset in light of its Gen 8 ‘dex entries.

"...The fact that you refused to oust him, thus they took matters into their own hands and deposed him...Does that not say more about your leadership than them?" Dalibor pointed out. "...What happened to your role as a leader? This Providing support for despots like Hinnerk, and now this intent to chase Guild members down, the very organisation you once led! …What the hell has gotten into you, man? Why are you acting like this?"

[ ]


"You don't need to know what drives me," growled Mitrofan.

I’m surprised that he didn’t just give a pithy “I’m doing what the reality of the situation demands” in reply, though I can see that even if he’s not showing it, this is likely hurting Mitrofan to some extent.

"Yes, I do!" Dalibor retaliated. "What happened to my good friend and colleague? What happened to the Guildmaster that I and many others looked up to so highly? And most of all…”

[ ]


"...What happened to the husband and father that you became? What would Rufina think of this?"

Oh, so Mitrofan really did have a “dead love interest” as an instigating event for his start of darkness. And yeah, I’m pretty sure this is the part where he gets physically violent, since I can’t imagine that this won’t hit a nerve for him.

This seemed to garner a silent reaction from Mitrofan; his eyes widened, then instantly, shock vanished in favour of menace that threatened the Grimmsnarl to say no more. Dalibor paid this no heed; the reaction alone was enough to know he was on to something. That name - he knew it meant a great deal to Mitrofan.

And so he continued.

"You're an idiot if you think I haven't noticed. Five years you've ruled over Selenia, and yet there's been no sign at all of Rufina, or your children. You loved her to death, Mitt. And it never waned once,” he insisted. “From the day you married her to five years ago, there was no sign at all of splintering. It was a match made in heaven, up there with Kallias and Melchior's marriages!”

[ ]

“…What the hell happened? Where is she? Is she dead? And what about your kids? Did they meet the same fate?"

Wait, Mitty had kids? Though Dalibor is confirmed for having a deathwish considering how he just blew right past the “shut up or else” expression by Mitrofan there.

The Aggron remained as silent as ever, as his once good friend barraged him with questions. One response from him, however, stopped the Grimmsnarl cold in his tracks.

"...I'd like to know the answer to that question myself."

U wot, m8.

[ ]

"Wh-What?" Dalibor was somewhat bewildered by this response. "You mean you don't know? How could you not know what happened to her?!"

"...Manipulators beyond my control saw to that," Mitrofan replied, confusing the hirsute fairy all the greater. Then, to add to the perplexity, he posed a new question. "...Tell me something, Dalibor."

"...What?" By this point, Dalibor was beginning to lose his patience.

"Imagine this scenario. I have kidnapped Cornelia and the orphans you take care of. And I have told you that if you do not comply with my every move order, then they would be history, and I would see to it that all trace of a good name within them would be erased. …What would you do, if you were thrust into that situation?"

Oh. Well. I suppose that solves the question of what happened to Mitty’s wife and kids. Even if we don’t have a firm idea of who is blackmailing Mitrofan like this.

[ ]

"...You wouldn't dare," the Dark/Fairy-type snarled. "If you ever do such a thing to Cornelia or the kids, I'll - !"

"Answer the question, Dalibor." Mitrofan's reply was calm and unfazed.

"...Well…I…" The Grimmsnarl curled his fist of hair in anger. "Come on, man! You can't expect me to answer that!"

Another spot where it probably makes sense to expand on Dalibor’s reaction a bit.

"But I can," the Aggron returned. "So tell me; would you obey the orders of someone who'd kidnapped your loved ones? …Even if those orders went against all of your moral instincts and involved you to do less than lawful deeds?"

"..." Dalibor's face showed a great deal of conflict.

[ ]

"...Silence, I see," Mitrofan noted. "I can't blame you, to be honest. After all, you've never been put in a situation like that. But if Cornelia and the children were taken from you…only then would you be compelled to contemplate committing wrongdoing. …Something that you as a former mercenary, would never dream of."

I do hope that whoever’s got Mitty bent over a barrel like this at least provides proof of life once in a while, since… yeah. I can only imagine how soul-crushing it would be to get jerked around for all of this only to discover that it was all for nothing.

[ ]

"...Listen, Mitt." Dalibor's voice was threatening. "If you're thinking of laying one finger on Cornelia or any of the orphans in here, then I swear…"

"You swear what? What would you do?"

[ ]

"...I'd tear your fucking guts out," came the snarling reply. "I would make you know the feeling of pain. No one dares to do that against Cornelia or the kids, even if it's my old friend threatening to kidnap them!"

"So you would kill me, then?" Mitrofan surmised. "...Hmph. Then you’ve told me everything that I needed to know. In the end, you are no better than me."

Mitty, you know that you could’ve just ended this conversation right here with a “that’s why I’m doing all of this, Dalibor”, just saying. Especially since I can already tell that hypothetical scenario wasn’t a hypothetical.

[ ]

"Don't compare me to you!" snapped the Grimmsnarl snapped. "Unlike you, I've never murdered anyone in cold blood!"

"I wasn't," refuted the Selenian leader. "I was merely pointing out that you would kill me for the welfare of your wife and the orphans. …We all say we would do anything for our loved ones. But how many actually mean that? Would they truly do anything and everything if it meant keeping them out of harm's way?"

[ ]

"...Well…" Dalibor tried to consider the Aggron's question. "...Only if it meant their absolute safety if I did whatever deed they wanted me to do. But…I'd draw a line somewhere. Like if I had to murder someone in cold blood…"

Mitrofan:

Dalibor: “Yes, really! Mitrofan, why on earth are you still even going on with this demented hypothetical?!”

"So even in that situation, your oath would come first," Mitrofan noted. "...But what if non-compliance meant the death of Cornelia and the kids? Kidnappers aren't exactly negotiable people."

"..." The Grimmsnarl tried to give an answer that wouldn't play into his old friend's hands. But he found himself unable to muster a different reply, and only growled in annoyance.

"I can gauge this much, then," the Aggron surmised. "You would be in complete emotional turmoil. …But then who wouldn't? If I posed that question to any married man or woman, they would be as unable to answer as you. If placed in that situation, only the truly hard-hearted could escape their emotions being wracked.”

[ ]

“But few Pokémon like that exist. For the average Pokémon, such an experience would scar them for life,” the Aggron said. “Perhaps they would succeed, and they would be reunited with their loved ones once again. …For many, though…the world isn't as merciful as that. Fate remains a cruel and apathetic mistress for them."

Dalibor: “Mitrofan? Is… Is this what’s happening to Rufina and the kids right now? For gods’ sake, you don’t have to do all of this if so! We can he-!” O_O;
Mitrofan: “This conversation is over, Dalibor.”

"...Mitt…why are you saying this?" Dalibor asked, trying to gauge his old friend's expression.

He seemed stoic and unemotional, with a hint of judging in them. He tried to piece together what Mitrofan was saying to him about his proposed scenario and what he was saying now about emotional turmoil.

If only Cornelia was with me, he found himself wishing. She'd easily be able to determine Mitt's emotions.

This second paragraph feels like it should be a couple smaller ones.

"...That, you'll have to figure out for yourself," Mitrofan told him. "...Perhaps it's time I let you know of another secret. Not many know of this, aside from Nikita and Spiridon.”

[ ]

“It's a truth that if heard by Melchior, would most likely cause him to leap to conclusions and worsen the rift between us. But…you are not him, Dalibor. Maybe you might be able to see this truth differently."

… Which is going to wind up going to Arian and Elvira and then back to Melchior, isn’t it? ^^;

"...Spill it, Mitt. What are you trying to tell me?" the Grimmsnarl asked. Watch it be another roundabout truth. Still…maybe there's something in here I might be able to glean from him.

A beat passed before Mitrofan spoke.

"My oath not to kill that I swore when I joined the Irian Guild…I valued it highly. I believed in the justice system of this country. I believed that there was simply no need for us to kill - because that responsibility would be handed over to the knights and executioners that would terminate those who deserved nothing short of death.”

[ ]


"But…beyond my control, that oath was broken. I would never have done so, but a malevolent force willed me to break it. …A short time before I killed Kliment and his family, my oath had already been broken."

I’m just going to take it that the whole elaborate “would you do evil things to save your wife and kids” things wasn’t just an idle hypothetical there.

[ ]

"...What?" This was a shock to Dalibor. "You…killed people before you killed Kliment?"

Dalibor: “Good gods, Mitrofan. Who are you?!”

"Not willingly. I would never have dreamed of committing such vile acts. Not even for Rufina and my children. [ ] But I wasn't given a choice in that matter." A hardened look came into Mitrofan's eyes. "...It was that very incident that compelled me to put Kliment down. My oath was in tatters, anyway. What did it matter, killing to kill another soul? At least this one was justified, in the overthrow of a despot."

I feel as if the bit in brackets feels like a part where Mitt would naturally pause while speaking, though I admittedly drew a blank on how to suggest dividing up this paragraph.

… Also, is Cornelia still unaware of what’s going on right now? .-.

"Despot?" Dalibor was aghast. "Look who's talking! Just what did you do?! Who did you kill?"

[ ]


"...I cannot say," was came the Aggron's reply. "For the simple reason that I don't know."

Oh, there’s a story behind this one, I can tell. I’m guessing that’s what the ‘Seven Years Ago’ special episode is all about.

[ ]


"Again with this crap, Mitt!" the Grimmsnarl raged. "I don't care what it was you did or why you did it, but murder?! It's unjustifiable, no matter the circumstances!"

That actually makes me wonder if the Mercenary’s Code also covers justifiable homicide as part of it and how it determines whether or not a killing qualifies or not.

"Oh? But did you not just say a minute ago, that if I laid one finger on Cornelia or any of the orphans, you would, and I quote, 'tear your fucking guts out'?" Mitrofan reminded. "Or did you forget?"

"...I didn't forget," Dalibor spat through clenched teeth. "...Dammit, Mitt…why are you like this? That murder…was that when this change happened within you?"

"..." For once, Mitrofan was the one to remain silent, refusing to reply.

Dalibor: “Mitt, where are you even going with this? First you traumatize one of my charges, then you withhold money from my orphanage of all things as your choice of how to settle accounts over dealing with those two Mercenaries, and now you have the gall to pepper me with these ghoulish hypotheticals.”

"Answer me, Mitt!" the Grimmsnarl demanded. "This…This isn't who you are anymore! You were always someone everyone looked up to when you were Guildmaster. And you were someone who told me that he loved his job, and the guild in which he worked. You were a great leader, and a great friend. Us, Spiridon, and Team Marshwood…we had a strong friendship, all of us.”

Wait, but isn’t Mitt precisely a cold, murderous tyrant in the present day? I think the underlined is better framed from an angle of “This isn’t who you used to be”

[ ]

"But…you're a completely different person now. Those skills as Guildmaster, that charisma you exuded…I barely see them in you now. It's almost like…" A realisation came to Dalibor, and he voiced it.”

[ ]


"It's almost like you don't want to do this. This whole tsar of Selenia thing. Hell...possibly even living."

Mitrofan: “Gee, it’s not like I just spent multiple minutes strongly implying at length what my motivations for being the present Tsar of Selenia were. Have you really grown this slow to read the room, Dalibor?”

He didn't know what he was expecting. He had hoped for a greater reaction from his old friend than what he got. Uttering this was good for his side of the conversation, he felt - he was getting worked up as he spoke, and feared that he'd be shedding tears if he continued. Instead, he got an opportunity to compose himself, while he gauged the Aggron's reactions.

His observation, luckily, was rewarded. He managed to catch a glint of something in the Aggron's eyes. It was brief, but Dalibor managed to detect it. And the emotion in question seemed to give it away.

Pain.

Whelp, looks like we found that chink in Mitty’s emotional armor there.

A thought came to him, based on what the Aggron had been asking him. A thought that made him feel like he was on the edge of figuring out something important.

"...Mitt? Is Rufina...dead? Is that why we don't see her anymore?"

I feel that the underlined is a little repetitive in framing with the repetition of “A thought”. Consider something along the lines of “A thought came to him based on the Aggron’s questions. Perhaps it was mere conjecture, but Dalibor felt he was on the edge of figuring out the root of his once-friend’s transformation.”

Though you had Mitrofan explicitly claim that he didn’t know what became of his wife and children earlier. If so, it might make sense to change Dalibor’s line of questioning to something like “... Mitt, you know what happened to Rufina, don’t you? Is she… dead? [...]” earlier.

That, he hoped would coax an answer out of his old friend. After all, he knew her Rufina well, too. And he'd found himself wondering during the four years what had happened to the Aggron's spouse. But on the few occasions when Mitrofan had visited and he'd inquired, his question always remained unanswered, or the Aggron would simply pretend he hadn't heard it. A part of him feared that maybe she'd wronged him in some way, and faced suffered the consequences for it, but… if she was dead...

But that thought, the Scenarios began to that was forming form in his mind, if true…suddenly framed Mitrofan's situation in a much more sympathetic light. Not enough to completely forgive him, but…he really must have been an emotional wreck if he decided killing Tsar Kliment was justified.

Some suggestions here and there for tweaking the phrasing a bit. What on earth did Kliment do to set Mitrofan off this much? Bungle a hostage negotiation or something? .-.

Mitrofan remained silent. However, after having this potential epiphany, Dalibor couldn't help but feel for his old friend. He must have gone through a lot. There's still a lot I don't know about what happened back then, but…more than ever, I'm something traumatic shaped the person he is today. And if what I'm thinking is true…then that might well explain all everything he's going through right now.

I mean, I’m still not sure that this is really what happened based on Mitrofan’s earlier dialogue, but “snapping from a loss of a loved one” is a pretty reliable motivator for going off the deep end in fiction. Even if I’m still curious as to what Kliment’s involvement in all of this was.

The Selenian leader's face spelled conflict looked visibly torn. Dalibor, though previously incensed at his old friend, couldn't help but feel sorry for him with this realisation over what may have happened to him his potential loss. However, he still wanted to find out the truth. Therefore, he took a breath and tried a softer tone.

"...Please, Mitt. I…don't want to see you suffer like this. Could you tell me the truth?"

Oh, so we really are getting straight into the matter as part of the Special Episode that starts right after this, huh?

It must have seemed like a tempting offer, based on how the look of conflict developed on Mitrofan's face. It seemed like he was giving genuine consideration to Dalibor's request. For a second, the Grimmsnarl thought he was getting through to him. For just a split second, he thought he saw shades of the old Mitrofan, ready to burst through the dictatorial mould he had crafted for himself over the five years he had been ruling Selenia.

Alas, that moment was interrupted by Nikita.

Dalibor: “Oh, for gods’ sake…”

"You've said enough, Dalibor," the Marowak interjected. "Master Mitrofan, we're done here. Even if Dalibor was a close friend, that doesn't mean we should leak every secret we have. …Especially what ones that we don't know."

[ ]


"...Indeed," the Aggron murmured. Notably, much of the earlier bite and menace in his voice had gone. But still… just when he looked to be breaking that mould about to lay his heart bare, he had composed himself and was regressing back into it.

"It's getting quite late. I must return to the castle."

It probably makes sense to describe Mitrofan’s change in mood / acknowledgement of Nikita a bit more explicitly than this.

[ ]

"...But…" Dalibor couldn't hide his disappointment. "...What about - "

"Some things must remain in the dark," Mitrofan replied firmly. "...Besides…it's not like telling you the truth will salvage my name at this point."

Oh, so Mitrofan is quietly bothered by the things he’s been up to lately, even if he obviously feels in too deep to turn back.

[ ]


"...Mitt…" And just like that, he's back to his current self. Dammit…I was so close too…

"I must go." Mitrofan moved to leave. "Nikita is right. I've said enough tonight.”

[ ]

“…Maybe I don't need to say more for you to figure it out. You're level-headed, Dalibor. Don't make a rash, impulsive decision like Team Marshwood did. At least give some thought to it all everything I told you, rather than rushing to a simple conclusion."

A couple spots where it probably makes sense to expand on the characters’ reactions a bit more.

And with that, he turned and walked down the street back to Iria Castle, followed by Nikita. Spiridon, who had been listening in on the conversation, turned to his ex-partner.

"A lot of the pieces are there, Dali," Spiridon told him. "If you want to figure it out, it's up to you to piece them together."

Dalibor: “Seriously, Spiridon?” >_>;
Spiridon: “Sorry, Dalibor. You know how Mitt can be.”

[ ]

"...Was I close?" Dalibor wondered.

"Damn close," the Hawlucha revealed. "But I can't say any more. Let's just say…I sided with Mitt for a good reason, oaths be damned. At the end of the day, sticking by your friends is far more important than some words on a page."

We’re going to wind up seeing the heroic version of this at some point in this story, aren’t we? Since that sort of framing just feels like it’s begging to be mirrored at some point down the road.

The Hawlucha departed after this, following after Mitrofan and Nikita. Meanwhile, Dalibor was left at the gate, his mind ablaze with thoughts regarding the whole exchange he'd had. He was struck by his mind's workings at what it all meant that he didn't notice his wife come up to him.

"Dali? What are you still doing out here?"

"Gah!" Dali jumped. "Oh, Cornelia…sorry. I didn't realise you were there."

Cornelia: “... Dalibor? What on earth is going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” .-.

"Sorry for giving you a fright," the Hatterene apologised. "But come inside. You look like you have a lot to tell me."

"...I do." Dalibor let out a long sigh as he turned to head back inside the orphanage. [ ]

"...Cornelia…I might have just been given the keys to why Mitt did what he did. I just…need time to join all the pieces together."

It feels like you’re missing something here in order to transition back to Dalibor speaking again in the story. It might be worth more explicitly depicting his reaction to Cornelia there.

Then I can figure out what happened to Mitt. And maybe…what happened to Rufina too.

Yeah, I’m feeling pretty good about that prediction earlier that that’s what that special episode’s going to be all about.

The next morning…

One thing that became apparent to Arian as he began to regain consciousness was that he had a headache, particularly around the centre of his forehead. It ached Had Sansarn really just tried to find his memories? It felt like a physical blow had been dealt to that part in his head. there!

Not really feeling the “Arian had a headache” and the “It ached” right afterwards since they’re basically saying the same thing. Alternatively as a more minimalistic change, you could s/”It ached”/”It smarted” or some other word focusing more on the nature or extent of the pain he’s presently feeling.

"Urgh…" As he felt himself coming to, his paw instinctively went to his forehead, in an effort to nurse the pain.

"...He's coming around, Your Holiness," a voice spoke.

Arian: “Urk… you did manage to find some memories during all of that, right?”

"...Good." Another voice replied, though Arian couldn't help but notice the guilt in their tone.

Arian: “... I’m just going to take that as a ‘no’ there.” -_-;

Eventually, his eyes opened fully, to him staring at a blank ceiling. He tilted his head to the right, and there, he saw Elvira.

"...Elvira?" he groaned, feeling his head throbbing.

"Thank goodness you're awake," the Treecko replied. "...How are you feeling?"


"...Honestly? Not great," he admitted. "My head feels like it's been hit by a hammer…"

I mean, after you evolve, getting hit in the head by a hammer might hurt a bit less since your bones will likely be metallic? ^^;

"That is to be expected." The other voice spoke again, and Arian turned to see Sansarn, behind Elvira. "Your mind actively resisted my attempts to undo the amnesia that clouds you."

Arian: “I’m sorry, what?”

"...What?" Arian uttered. Then he remembered what the Slowking did with him last night. "Oh, right! That amnesia-clearing thing! Did it work?"

[ ]

"...You should be able to confirm that for yourself," the pontifex replied. "I fear, however…I know what the answer is."

[ ]


"...Well, Arian? Do you remember anything new?" Elvira asked.

Some spots where it probably makes sense to expand on the characters’ reactions, but I’m just going to call it here and say that Arian didn’t exactly make progress on getting his memories back.

The Riolu paused, collecting his thoughts. Did anything new come to his mind? Despite the headache that vexed him at present, he sought out any new thoughts. Any new memories of family, friends, how he came to this world…anything.

However… nothing came to mind.

"I…can't remember anything new," Arian revealed, disappointed. "...Guess that was all for nothing, then."

Yeah, I knew it.

"...I feared as much," Sansarn replied, himself just as dismayed himself. "I sincerely apologise for being unable to remove your amnesia, Arian."

That actually makes me wonder if prior to becoming a Pontifex/priest in general, if Sansarn worked as a healer of some sort, since he sure seemed to handle this like a natural.

"...It's fine," the Riolu returned. "It's not like remembering everything is one of my priorities. I mean, I'd like to one day regain my memories, but…for the moment, I'm content."

"...I see." The pontifex closed his eyes, surmising what had come from the exercise. "...If there is one thing this action has shown, let it be this. … it is that I am far from perfect."

That actually makes me wonder if the Church of Arceus has some equivalent doctrine to papal infallibility, not that “performing healing duties” would be covered under the IRL equivalent.

[ ]

"...Isn't that the same for everyone?" Elvira pointed out. "My dad taught me that."

"Indeed. That is the way the Creator made us all." Sansarn let out a sigh. "But a number of pontifices in recent times have claimed infallibility, and that they can do no wrong. Worse still, this has emboldened them to…commit actions we of the Church deem blasphemous to us who preach the word of our Creator."

Oh, well. That answers that question there. Even if Sansarn obviously isn’t eager to rush out and claim the mantle himself.

"Actions? Like what?" Arian wondered.

[ ]

"...I've heard about this," Elvira replied. "There have been scandals in the East in the last ten years or so, with high-ranking clergymen supposedly having secret love affairs and fathering children. There was also…embezzlement, as well, along with bribery and nepotism. …At least from what I've heard."

Ah yes, just like real life. Though I see that the Church of Arceus also demands clerical celibacy in Ardalion. Wonder if that has anything to do at all with how Eldisholm went “lol, lmao” at remaining in contact with everyone else.

"...Regrettably, you are correct," Sansarn mournfully confessed. "It was shameful behaviour. To think that archbishops and even pontifices of the highest accord fell to such vices…it has left a lot to cleanse.”

“The responsibility of doing so lies with I - an outsider of the Eastern nobility. It was the wish of the people, who had become alienated from the Church as a result of this misconduct,” Sansarn explained. “as well as an admission by His Excellency Emperor Vittorio himself admitted that if the Church was to be rid of such immoral behaviour, an outsider to the system was necessary. Thus, I came to assume the title of pontifex maximus after my predecessor, Pontifex Nicander, unfortunately met his end through assassination."

Some more odds and ends recommendations here. Though I see that Dreselia is at least partly modeled after Rome during Constantine’s reign and onward when the church became the state religion. That makes me wonder if there was a ‘before time’ for Ardalion’s religious beliefs prior to the Church of Arceus gaining its dominant position.

[ ]

"Well…at least you're doing good work to fix that whole mess," Arian said. "You certainly have my back."

"And mine," Elvira added. "Especially since you're keeping us in sanctuary, safe from Mitrofan."

I mean, I’m not fully sure how much I should be trusting Sansarn just yet. Let’s just say that the batting average of portrayals of expies of the Church, especially in works based off of Japanese Media are such that I’d frankly be more surprised if Sansarn is as genuinely wholesome as he presents. Sure wouldn’t stop him from having awful underlings either way.

[ ]

"...Thank you very much, both of you," Sansarn replied gratefully. "It pleases me to know that I have support from both the Selenian clergy and the common people. I am more convinced than ever that I can work to wipe clean the stains of impropriety from our holy institution's name. For the Creator, and those that worship His good name."

Arian: “So, uh… does worshiping this ‘Creator’ actually do anything, or…? Since your world kinda feels like he’s not really doing much about things spinning apart.” ^^;
Sansarn: “I would really appreciate it if you didn’t just casually cast aspersions on our god right now.”

Arian took in the pontifex's encouraging words. He does seem as good as his word, he thought. Even if he is from the East, he at least seems like someone I'd far rather side with than Mitrofan. …This guy's good in my book.

Which is about one of the most genre-blind things you can do in a JRPG-themed setting since outside of Bravely Default and the Dragon Quest series… uh… yeah, the local analogue of the Church is usually bad news (and even in BD, it had a lot of skeletons in its closet).

I heard anecdotally through the grapevine that this story rolled the minority route for depictions, but we’ll see. Especially since even if Sansarn is a nice guy, there’s clearly interests within the Church that would feel threatened by him being Pontifex.

His mind then drifted to other matters when he looked over at the other beds, and something occurred to him.

"Where are Serafina and Natalie?" he pondered, before he realised something else. "Actually, Though how long was I out?"

"A long time," Elvira told him. "It was evening time when you passed out, and it's morning now. Team Anima are upstairs with Archbishop Khariton."

Arian: “I’d say that at least I got a good night’s sleep out of everything, but it’s honestly kinda hard to tell with this headache.”

"Well…let's not keep them waiting." Arian got up from his bed. "I'm fine, before you ask. Just a headache is all."

[ ]


"...Alright, Arian, if you are better, then…let's head up."

Wait, is that Elvira or Sansarn who’s saying that second line there? It’s a little unclear right now.

Team Elpis made their way back to the main congregation area along with Sansarn. When they got there, Serafina and Natalie were indeed there with Khariton. [ ]

"Arian! Are you well?" the Meowstic asked.

Probably makes sense to describe Team Anima’s reaction a bit more to Team Elpis’ arrival.

"I'm fine, don't worry," Arian assured, and chose to quickly change the subject so as not to focus on him. "So…what's the plan of action now?"

"...It is our wish to return back to Kamengrad," Serafina replied. "Though we are safe within the walls of Iria Cathedral, we would like to get back to our friends in the Guild. They may worry for us if we are away for too long."

Natalie: “Um… you wouldn’t happen to have a secret passage out of here past the walls, would you?” ^^;
Elvira: “Aren’t we supposed to be going back to check up on Dalibor anyways right now?” >_>;

"An understandable sentiment," Sansarn said. "I would be all too glad to allow you all to walk out of here. …But there is the matter of safety. I would be concerned if you did not have a plan to get past the knights in your escape of Iria."

[ ]


"...Ah," Serafina faltered, realising the pontifex had a point.

I feel like it makes more sense to show that realization of ‘guy’s got a point’ through something like characterizations rather than just making it an informed attribute there.

"You have plenty of time to think of one," Khariton pointed out. "After all, sanctuary is effective for forty days. Only then will we be forced to escort you out of here."

Team Elpis + Anima:

Sansarn: “It’s a condition for us to be able to maintain churches across the borders of Ardalion’s realms? (Also, are you implying that you wouldn’t go stir-crazy in here anyways by the first week?)” ^^;

[ ]

"...I doubt we'll need that much time to think of a plan," Elvira replied. "...We have a map of Iria. Let's see what we can think up."

The four brainstormed for some time, debating what route to take out of the city and how to avoid knights along the way. However, it was becoming apparent that with a lack of knowledge of the knights' patrol routes, their plan was looking a tad threadbare.

I don’t suppose there’s another Mystery Dungeon somewhere down in the catacombs that’ll let you get from Point A to Point B kinda like the road to Kamengrad, huh?

At one point, Arian's eyes drifted to all the stained glass imagery depicted in the Church. He looked up to see the scene depicted above the altar, and couldn't help but be fascinated by it.

"Your Grace?" he asked Khariton. "Who are those Pokémon? I don't think I've come across them in the books I've studied about Pokémon."

[ ]


"...I beg your pardon?" Khariton, who had overheard Arian's question, sounded quite staggered. "You…don't know?"

Khariton: “I’m sorry, but did you crawl out from under a rock the other day or something?”

Arian: “Er… technically, yes, if you count the catacombs.” ^^;

"Don't forget he's got amnesia, Yer Grace," Natalie reminded.

[ ]


"...I am aware," the Togetic replied. "But…is Arian truly unaware of the existence of our Creator Lord Arceus, and the gods who He created the world with? Even if he does have amnesia…it's still a shocking truth to digest."

Natalie: “It’s a very severe case of amnesia.”
Togetic: “I’ll say.” .-.

Arceus? There's that name again…So there's a whole church dedicated to them. …Hmm…guess I'm going to find out just who this Arceus is.

Try looking up at the stained-glass windows, Arian.

"...There is never a time not to preach His word, Archbishop," Sansarn said to him. "And as the pontifex maximus of our Creator's church on Ardalion, I would be all too honoured to tell you the story of Lord Arceus."

He walked up the steps of the altar, and once behind it, he began his gospel.

Not that it’s particularly relevant to this story, but that makes me wonder if there’s other landmasses in this world aside from Ardalion.

"Lord Arceus the Creator is the being that created our universe. It was He who appeared, when the world was but an endless void, and forged the world as we know it. He created the world with His 1,000 Thousand Arms, and all of the natural beauty in His realm sprung into life,” the Slowking explained. “Earth, wind and sky - all were given form by His blessing. By His will, our universe was created. Thus, we worship Lord Arceus as the Creator of our world. It is He who is depicted at the apex of this window."

He gestured to the stained glass behind him, to the equine Pokémon with the golden cross-wheel. [ ]

Arian: “... Oh, so that’s Arceus.”

"I see…" Arian said. "So all life was created by Arceus?" He looked up at the heavenly figure in the stained glass. The creator of this world…

"It is because Lord Arceus created life that we exist today," Sansarn replied. "In His crafting of His ideal world, the Creator saw to the creation of deities. Some were created by His own hands, while others came into being through the life that was being breathed in the new land that Lord Arceus had created. Many are depicted within our churches, including this one." Sansarn stepped away from the altar and gestured to each figure he mentioned that was painted upon the stained glass windows of the cathedral.

I’ll admit that given how forward the Catholic Church parallels are with Ardalion’s Church, that I’m a little surprised that the other Legendaries aren’t framed as “angels” or if getting a bit more discrete about it, “virtues”/”powers”, given that having physical bodies aside, that that’s essentially what they function as in in the cosmology that Sansarn is outlining. Though I suppose that the average reader on the Anglophone internet would default to thinking of winged humans in robes and that “high god presiding over a subordinate pantheon” is a nice way to add some fantasy distance versus your obvious source of inspiration here.

"Dialga, deity of time." A four legged sapphire-blue dragon with metallic plating and a chest plate with a diamond on it.

"Palkia, deity of space." A white-and-pink dragon with a long neck and pearl-like crystals on its shoulders.

"Giratina the Renegade." A scarier-looking six-legged dragon with black wings and a grey body, with gold half-rings along its neck. "Though he was banished for his violence towards the Creator, he is nonetheless a part of the story of our world's creation."

Ah yes, I can already tell who the ‘fallen angel’ of the pantheon is. Though that makes me wonder how other ‘not nice’ Legendaries are framed in the local setting mythos.

"Mew, the Mother of All Pokémon." A pink, almost feline looking Pokémon that even in its depiction in the stained glass, Arian couldn't help but find it rather cute.

Huh. I wonder if that implies that they wouldn’t see Arceus and the Creation Trio as being Pokémon, but being some other type of entities. And if Mew just was the mother of normie Pokémon, or of all the other members of the pantheon as well.

"Groudon, guardian of the land." A dinosaur-like Pokémon with red armour plating and menacing claws and teeth.

"Kyogre, guardian of the sea." A blue whale-like Pokémon with red markings across its body.

"Rayquaza, guardian of the sky." A long, thin emerald coloured dragon with ring-like symbols along its body.

And there’s our weather trio there. Admittedly a part of me isn’t really sure whether or not it makes sense to loredump all the Legendaries right here and now since presumably most are not going to be relevant in this story for a while, but I’ll admit I’m a bit of a sucker for worldbuilding like this.

I do wonder if it makes sense to highlight Arian / the other characters’ reactions at different points as Sansarn’s going through the list and/or if he’s moving to point off at different windows.

"Xerneas, bringer of life." A deer Pokémon with kaleidoscopically colourful antlers, a blue and black body, and blade-like legs.

"Yveltal, bringer of death." An avian Pokémon with a red and black body in the shape of a Y.

"Zygarde, the reverser of destruction." A snake-like black and green scaled Pokémon with hexagonal green markings on it.

I assume that Yveltal is basically the ‘angel of death’ of the pantheon and nobody really likes dealing with him/her outside of whenever it’s time for “lol, screw that guy” for someone who’s causing a bunch of problems in-setting.

"Solgaleo, deity of the sun." A brilliant white lion Pokémon with a mane in the shape of the sun.

"Lunala, deity of the moon." A bat-like Pokémon with deep blue wings in the shape of a crescent moon.

Reshiram: “Aw… but where’s the diety of truth? Surely that’s important enough for a pantheon spot, isn’t it?”

"They are but a few of the Legendary Pokémon that Lord Arceus created. They help to maintain the stability of this world that our Creator breathed life into," Sansarn described. "Some of them proceeded to expand upon the Creator's universe and forge new areas of land and sea. The seismic events, primarily created by battles between Groudon and Kyogre - "

Sansarn paused briefly, He gesturing to the stained glass artwork depicting the two aforementioned deities.

" - Saw the creation of a number of landmasses that dot the world in which we live. One of them…is the land on which we stand today - Ardalion.

Oh, so there are other landmasses in Ardalion’s world. I suppose that’s definitely convenient for if you ever feel like doing a sequel/prequel/gaiden story in a faraway land with a radically different aesthetic.

"There is perhaps no place in this world more sacred to the Creator than our fair land of Ardalion. Though other parts of the world are cherished by Him, He has remained an undying presence over our fair land. It is said that Lord Arceus dwells in the heavens above Sanctus Mons, the highest mountain in all of Ardalion, where he has watched over us since time immemorial.”

[ ]

“While the other Legendaries are vital to the continued existence of our world - some of whom dwell in a number of Mystery Dungeons throughout Ardalion - our world could not have come to be without the will of Lord Arceus the Creator.”

[ ]

“That is why we in the Church of Arceus worship His name higher than any of the other Legendaries. Every day, we give our thanks to His blessing that has allowed Ardalion to thrive all these years. And may it be so until the end of our days."

Well, that’s certainly an on-the-nose name for a Holy Mountain. Though I suppose that makes Ardalion the equivalent of this world’s Sinnoh. Just a lot larger given that it has an entire continent surrounding this mountain.

Though just filing away that note that there are apparently Legendaries bumming around in different Mystery Dungeons in this world. That’s definitely on-brand for the official games, though it makes me wonder if that’s actually going to be a thing that Team Elpis does at some point in the story.

Arian listened intently to the pontifex's gospel, taking in everything he was saying. However, as he came near the end of his speech, he couldn't help but feel as though there was a contradiction with Sansarn's words and what was going on in Ardalion at the moment. Elvira's words about increasing natural disasters and the unusual dryness that had come over Selenia came back to him.

Should I call him out for it? he debated. Mmm…we've gotten along well so far. I don't want to mess things up and cause a rift between us. In our situation, we need all the allies we can get. …Best to keep my mouth shut, I think.

Oh, so Arian really is going to go the “... wait, but why isn’t Arceus doing anything right now?” route, huh? And here I did that as a joke earlier. :V

[ ]

"...A rousing delivery, Your Holiness," Khariton praised, before turning to Arian. "Do you have a greater understanding of Lord Arceus the Creator now?"

"...Oh, er, yes," Arian replied, still slightly distracted by his own thought process. "That's very interesting, Your Holiness. I have to look deeper into this."

Khariton: “You don’t sound particularly interested, just saying.”

Arian: “Look, you just threw a lot of new names and faces at me, okay?” >_>;

"There's a copy of the Holy Scripture back at the Guild," Elvira told him. "You can ask for that when we get back."

That thing must be quite the tree-killer if there’s not copies just jammed into the backs of the pews. Unless this is one of those churches that basically just has long benches for seating.

"Thanks, Elvira." Her words then reminded him of what they were doing before he sidetracked them all with his wonderings about the deities of the Pokémon world. "Oh yeah…getting back to our plans. …How do we get out of Iria?"

[ ]


"I have a suggestion, if I may," Sansarn interjected. "...Perhaps these might be of aid."

From his pontifical robes, the Slowking produced four orbs, and gave them to Teams Elpis and Anima.

"What are these?" Natalie asked.

"They are invisify orbs," Sansarn told them. "Using them turns you invisible to the naked eye."

Arian: “Well, that’s certainly handy… what’s the catch here, though?”

"Wow," Arian remarked, before realising what this meant. "You guys! We can use these to avoid detection from the knights!"

"...Yes, we can!" Serafina said. "Thank you very much for this, Your Holiness! We will not forget your generosity!"

Serafina: “Though… I don’t suppose that you have another set of four to spare? There’s actually a friend in town we should probably be checking on before we leave.” ^^;

"Generosity is but a part of my creed as pontifex maximus," Sansarn replied. "You are all too welcome to have them."

[ ]


"...Why d'ya have invisify orbs?" queried Natalie. "...If ya don't mind me askin', Yer Holiness."

It probably makes sense to more explicitly mention Natalie’s presumptive [hrmmmchiro] reaction here, since based on her dialogue, I assume that she’s side-eyeing Sansarn fairly noticeably.

"...I mentioned before how I am an outsider to the system of nobility in the Eastern Alliance," Sansarn answered. "It was through the recommendation of His Excellency Emperor Vittorio that I am where I am today. This, however, has earned the ire of those who believe the responsibilities of the pontifex maximus should only be reserved for the nobility. To put it simply…I have been the target of numerous assassination attempts."

Well, that certainly would be a good reason to have a bunch of Invisify Orbs on you.

[ ]

"What? That's terrible!" Serafina reacted. "I am sorry to hear that, Your Holiness. …I was unaware there were people vile enough to think of assassinating one as charitable as you."

Oh, so Serafina is confirmed to be the religious one of the group considering how she’s reacting the most viscerally to this revelation.

"...Your concern is appreciated," the Slowking replied, taking in the Meowstic's words. "...To get around this, therefore, I make use of invisify orbs to limit opportunities in which I could be attacked. While it hasn't eliminated intimidation, it has helped. The usage of them could very well mean the difference between life and death.”

[ ]

“It would be a shame if I met an end akin to my predecessor, Pontifex Nicander. A pity that his life had to be taken in so cruel a manner…"

Sansarn: “To say nothing about how excruciatingly painful it would be. I’ll admit, while I’m prepared to be a martyr for my faith, it’s something I’d rather not just rush into with open arms.” ^^;

[ ]

"...Yes. Or in the same manner as House Ruslan," Elvira added. "Their lives taken from them, and the end result being that the peace that Selenia once had has now been tossed aside. Now we have despotic figures like Mitrofan and Hinnerk ruling the roost.”

[ ]

“…What path is Selenia to take now?"

"Don't forget that rumour, though," Arian pointed out. "You know, what Dio told us? About Prince Leonid - if I remember correctly - still being alive?"

Elvira: “Arian. It’s been five years and all there’s been is rumors. Realistically, Leonid’s probably dead in a ditch somewhere by now.”

"That's only a rumour, Arian," Elvira rebutted. "There's no evidence that it's true. I wish we had proof, but…"

"Hmmm…" Sansarn vocalised. "What's this about Prince Leonid and rumours? You say he's still alive?"

Arian: “I literally just said that...”

"Indeed, Your Holiness," Khariton said. "I have heard this rumour myself, that Prince Leonid supposedly managed to escape Iria Castle, and was not, as many believe, killed by the marauding Mitrofan.”

[ ]

“Some of our parishioners believe in it, and hold out hope that the tsesarevich will return and oust Mitrofan from the throne that he unjustly robbed. …Alas, at present, we have no evidence to substantiate this claim."

"...Well, then." Sansarn stood up straight, ready to reveal something important. "Your parishioners' hopes may well be answered, Archbishop Khariton."

"...What?" Khariton stood to attention. "Your Holiness, you don't mean…"

"...I do," the pontifex returned. "...A number of churches over the past five years have received requests for sanctuary from none other than Prince Leonid himself. It would appear Prince Leonid, the tsesarevich - I hope I used that term correctly - did manage to escape.”

[ ]

“He fled across the border to Dresilia with Lady Svetlana, his princess, and requested sanctuary in a multitude of churches within the Empire,” the Slowking explained. “He spent some time, along with fellow Selenian nobles who had fled the new regime in their home country, requesting aid from His Excellency and Dresilia's noble families."

I was going to say that the term in underlined was wrong, but no, that is apparently the proper title from 1797 onwards. Cute wrinkle in detail given that it very specifically refers to an ‘heir apparent’, which I suppose explains some fluff text you’ve put on art pieces involving Leonid in the past.

That said, I wonder if there ought to logically have been more of a reaction by the gang to Sansarn’s casual confirmation that Leonid survived Mitrofan’s purge of the royal house there, since you’d think that that’d be a huge revelation for everyone present.

"...But nothing's come through," Arian pointed out.

"That is true, yes. The reason for that appears to have been greater priorities in the eyes of the then Emperor of Dresilia, His Excellency Emperor Annibale," Sansarn elaborated. "Though he and Archon Pyrrhus of Miletos attempted to build bridges with Tsar Kliment, that goodwill did not spread to the common man. Many were unwilling to fight to free Selenia. In their eyes, a savage had killed a savage in a far-off land.”

[ ]

“What difference did it make to their lives unless they were threatened by them? Indeed, there are voices of concern on the other side of the Empyrean Mountains, but many citizens simply have other matters that weigh heavier on their conscience,” the Slowking explained. “The last year, in particular, has been tumultuous for the Eastern Alliance, and their internal problems far outshine the problems in Selenia. This in turn has meant the ignorance of Prince Leonid and the nobles of Selenia in favour of greater issues plaguing Dresilia and Miletos."

Things must be going really sideways out east for neither of the two major powers to round up a bunch of local criminal scum and restive peasants involved in the latest failed revolt of the month, go “here’s your army, Leonid” and then quietly support him in return for favors to call in once he returned to the throne. Since just saying, that wasn’t exactly rare as a playbook in the Greco-Roman world when attempting to wade into the affairs of barbarians IRL.

"...I recall hearing about this from my family," Serafina recalled. "It is more difficult than ever now to raise awareness about Selenia to the Dresilian people, where they reside at the minute. Dresilia has been suffering its own sets of droughts, and coupled with the assassinations of both Pontifex Nicander and Emperor Annibale in the past year, there is a fervent need to keep the country stable amidst these crises."

I can’t tell whether it’s a good or a bad thing that Mercenaries writ large in Ardalion have cleaned up their act ever since Team Hope entered the stage, since… uh… yeah, otherwise Leonid would have had his army as long as he had the coin to spare. ^^;

"Indeed. I myself am aware of these struggles," Sansarn replied. "Even so…it is regrettable that little is done to address the Selenian situation in the East. It would go a long way towards greater friendship between our two nations, and hopefully that would extend to the commonfolk of both tsardom and empire.”

[ ]

“The alleviation of suffering…His Excellency has the power to do so for the good of all, and yet he does not exercise it. I wish I could do more…” the Slowking murmured to himself. “But as pontifex, I am always subordinate to Emperor Vittorio in regards to power," he lamented with disappointment.

Sansarn’s dialogue is long-winded enough that you should consider dividing it up into two parts here.

"...Where is Prince Leonid now?" wondered Elvira. "Is he still in Dresilia?"

"...Unfortunately, I do not know," the Slowking answered. "What I have told you about Prince Leonid's sojourns in sanctuary is from five years ago. However, I have not heard anything regarding his current whereabouts. I do not believe I have heard of him approaching His Excellency for aid in the past three years or so.”

[ ]

“In fact. It's possible that…due to the refusal to grant him aid to retake Selenia…Prince Leonid and Lady Svetlana may have left Dresilia altogether."

I mean, that sounds like a fantastic way to come back into power with zero popular legitimacy given how opinionated the average Selenian has been depicted as being about the last time Dresilia had any level of influence over local politics. So maybe that was a blessing in disguise there. ^^;

"...What? Do you really think so?" Serafina said. "...But then where could he have gone?"

[ ]


"...Ya don't think he's dead, do ya?" Natalie wondered.

"...I cannot say I know," Sansarn reiterated. "...When I return to Padavonum, I shall seek out records of sanctuary in the last year in our churches. Prince Leonid may well have sheltered elsewhere in places I have overlooked.”

[ ]

“If I find any information, I shall inform your Guild of this. …You said the Irian Guild was in Kamengrad, correct?"

Some more spots where it makes sense to slow down and expand things a bit. Especially since the “If I find any information [...]” part feels a little weird to read without some sort of pause preceding it.

"It is," Elvira confirmed. "Thank you very much, Your Holiness. You've been a great help to us."

"It is no trouble," the pontifex returned. "I do hope we can unearth information on Prince Leonid's whereabouts sooner rather than later. Know that I sympathise with your plight and the woes of the Selenian people under Mitrofan, and the sooner they are rid of their suffering, the better. For many, seeing the reinstatement of House Ruslan, the ruling dynasty of Selenia, would put their minds at ease."

Since just saying, I don’t think that Leonid returning to power following hot on the heels of a Desilian Legion would endear him to many local Selenians. Even if it would likely be effective at getting what he wants.

[ ]

"Indeed, Your Holiness," Khariton agreed. "As the Archbishop of Selenia, we need a leader that respects the Church and the Creator's word. Not someone who would gladly take your holy life if not for the consequences!" he added, with contempt.

"...Looks like we got a clear goal in mind, then," Arian surmised. "Find Prince Leonid. Then we'll be one step closer to drumming up support for him, and maybe, one of these days, we'll overthrow Mitrofan, and Selenia can go back to normal."

I… think that you should probably do a sanity check on just what the local opinion is of Kliment’s reign was, Arian. Since just saying, you came to Selenia in a region that was very obviously loyalist in sentiment to the Ruslans given that Mitty had to kill and replace the local nobles. Things could be really different in other oblasti.

[ ]

"...You paint a nice picture, Arian," Serafina commented. "Such a rosy image makes me want to make it reality. So…let us do that. Let us seek out Prince Leonid."

"...Let's get back to the Guild first," Elvira said. "We should let everyone there know of this news."

Elvira: “Wait, shouldn’t we be checking up on Dalibor right now?” ^^;
Serafina: “On the one paw, yes, on the other, considering how much trouble we’re in right now, it’s probably for the best to not give the knights ideas that he was involved with us.”

Elvira: “... Shouldn’t we at least ask Sansarn to pass on a letter or something?” .-.

The four got ready to leave. As they neared the exit, Sansarn called out to them.

"Make sure you exit Iria quickly. Those invisify orbs won't last forever," he advised. "But other than that…farewell. May the Creator's benevolence guide you, and lead you along the path of righteousness."

"Thank you, Your Holiness. We won't forget your kindness to us," Elvira returned to him, before the quartet left the cathedral.

Hrm, unless if the gang’s somehow intending to swing by Dalibor’s on the way out (which isn’t communicated), you probably want to explicitly lay out the logic for why they’re not going back to check on him and Rufus here.

[ ]

"...What an ambitious group of characters," remarked Khariton, once they had left. "I can't help but admire their determination." He turned to Sansarn. "Your Holiness…may I pose a question?"

"Of course, Archbishop. I am all ears."

[ ]


"...I could not help but notice your…interest in that Riolu, Arian," the Togetic observed. "Could you elaborate further on why?"

Oh, Sansarn managed to pick up on Arian being human, huh?

"...As I said before, he resembles a Riolu from my past," Sansarn answered. "...Strangely, though…he is different. And yet…he retains a feeling of familiarity."

[ ]


"...Pardon me, Your Holiness, but…I do not understand. What do you mean by that?"

[ ]


"...He speaks with his own voice. When we met downstairs yesterday evening, it was the first time I had heard him speak. It should have been akin to meeting a completely new face, just like it had been for his fellows. And yet…" Sansarn looked at the entrance once more. "...It wasn't. That particular body of a Riolu, with all of its unusual quirks and features…I have seen it before."

Oh, so the parallels to Team Hope were deliberate. (Or at least I think that’s where this is going.) Though wait, how old is Sansarn anyways? ^^;

"...I apologise, Your Holiness, but I still do not fully grasp your words," Khariton admitted, somewhat confused by what his superior was saying.

"...Nor do I, truth be told. This mystery wracks me too," the pontifex admitted. "...The Creator works in mysterious ways, I suppose. As there is reason for all things, so too is there a reason for this anomaly. …One day, the answer shall come to us. Why the Riolu with a familiar appearance speaks in such an unfamiliar tone…

[ ]

"I shall look forward to finding out the truth behind that peculiarity when that day comes."

So wait, is the arrival of a green-eyed Riolu basically the equivalent of Link popping up every few generations in Legend of Zelda? /s

The knights of Selenia were immediately back to another day of usual patrol. They were on high alert, of course. Word had spread that the four wanted mercenaries had been taken into sanctuary in Iria Cathedral. But a common assumption was that they might well use this as a temporary location with base from which to possibly attempt the to dispose of another important figure from Mitrofan’s ranks, like any of the three marshals or worse still, Mitrofan himself.

I did a double-take at the ‘another’ there since I was going to say that Team Elpis didn’t exactly kill anyone in town, but then I realized that that was probably referring to Hinnerk.

None of the knights wanted that. They had high respect for their marshals, especially Spiridon and Ludmila, and none more so than the leader whose rule of law it was for them to enforce. New wanted posters had been drawn up overnight, now depicting all four of them, and they had been handed out to civilians around Iria, warning them of these fugitives.

So they kept their eyes peeled sharply for any of the four wanted mercs. Some were extra thorough and scoped out places where the four would be likely to hide. This had been a recommendation by Marshal Metody, who had previously caught them hiding the day before behind some casks.

Just saying, you three probably should’ve invested more effort into cordoning off exits to the city and then pulling in tighter on them. Since I can already see how they manage to get out of dodge.

"They're hardly professional at that," the Floatzel had scoffed to some knights he had visited that day. "Just keep your eyes peeled in places where they might be hiding. Kegs, casks, dark alleys - there are no shortage of hiding places in the capital, and they might think to utilise them. But out-think them! We knights must use our brains as well as brawn if we are to outwit them."

Knight #1: “Er… shouldn’t we be paying more attention to the gates in that case-?”
Metody: “Out-think them before they get there!”

Alas, Metody's words weren't fully taken to heart. This couldn't exactly be blamed on them; after all, who could have foreseen the tactic of invisify orbs being used to avoid detection by sight? That was why many knights did not see anyone exit Iria Cathedral that morning. Maybe one or two may have sensed something was off, but when they turned to look again, they saw nothing, and continued about their duties as normal.

I’m going to take that as a sign that Team Elpis and Anima made a point of bathing well before get out of dodge since you’d think that hearing and smell would potentially also give them away, too.

Teams Elpis and Anima, invisible to the naked eye, made their way to the nearest exit briskly. Sansarn's warning echoed in their mind that it wouldn't last forever, so they made a point to exit the city as quickly as possible.

Even so, they still attempted to subtly hide when necessary, knowing that the more perceptive guards would sense something was off.

Should’ve hitched a ride on an outbound wagon, just saying, guys.

They played this game until the exit, when, after having passed the last two knights guarding the gate, they threw off any sort of pretence and dashed forward once they were outside the walls, not caring about the reaction behind them. All that mattered to them now at that point was returning back to the Irian Guild to inform everyone of what had gone down in the city.

Luckily for them, the knights seemed to look confusedly at a seeming fleeting presence that passed them by.

"...Did you feel that, Adrian?" a Hitmonchan knight asked.

"...I did, Pyotr," the Durant knight replied. "But…no one's passed through here."

Lmao. I see that killing off the Irian Guild and driving the rest into hiding did wonders for the average quality of Mitty’s new underlings.

"...Could've just been the wind," murmured Pyotr.

"...Could've been." His partner's own murmur sounded a bit more doubtful. Almost like they were missing something. Had something really passed them by?

Whatever. Let's just focus on keeping those no-good mercs from exiting the city.

Ah yes, the Marshalls are going to be thrilled to hear about this one, I’m sure. ^^;

Alright, made it to the end. And I see that we’ve finally made it out of Iria again, with good news for the guild to boot. This chapter was a bit on the slower side since it was basically mostly backstory and worldbuilding, but it had a lot of fun insights and hints towards Mitrofan’s character and the way that things work with Ardalion’s cosmology and politics, which I’m sure we’ll be hearing quite a bit more of. In the very near future too, if your chapter titles are anything to go by.

In terms of weaknesses, there were some phrasing and paragraph formatting quibbles I had here and there, and the regular suspects for underdescription and “showing not telling” reared their heads decently often. For things that are more than a simple “additive editing” issue, there were a couple things about the actual chapter structure that struck me as a bit iffy:

The first was that Dalibor’s end of the story is not properly closed from Team Elpis’ end. Their course of action of not going back for him actually makes sense in-setting, but they aren’t really depicted talking things through as to why to do that when logically Arian and Elvira would’ve been a bit worried for Dalibor and Rufus’ well-being. At minimum, it’d make sense for Team Anima to explain “no, going back to check up on Dalibor is liable to just get him in trouble” and maybe asking Sansarn or Khariton to forward a letter explaining that they’re okay. The other chapter structure issue basically is a function of how genuinely threatening Mitty’s knights are supposed to be, since… uh… they basically got completely rolled by the gang just bolting past them while invisible. If the average knight is meant to actually be competent and scary in this story, it might make sense to make Team Elpis and Anima “work” a little harder to get out of town. For example, perhaps the knights have the foresight to check every wagon and cart headed out of Iria, which then makes things a game of tiptoeing around the knights doing the latest inspection while keeping quiet enough to not attract attention. Some food for thought anyways.

But all-and-all, I thought that this was a fun capstone to the Iria arc, and it’s great to be back in this story @Arukona . I admittedly am a bit unsure if I’ll have the time to come back for more Dual Wills in particular in this event since the next few chapters will… uh… take a little bit to get through with my normal reviewing style, but this certainly won’t be the last review from me you’ll get before Review Blitz is over.

 

[Arukona]

Chapter 34
The Troubled Tír​

The afternoon sun beat down hard as Leonid, Carwyn and Cathbad made their way to the taxi dock on the eastern side of the Istwyth, in the same location where Arian and Elvira had touched down into Breifne for the first time. The air was different from when the young mercenaries had first landed, with a distinct atmosphere of panic and whisperings about the explosion that had rocked Breifne Cathedral drifting through the air.

Cathbad heard a voice or two mention their name as they passed them on the street; a reminder of what lay in the vision they had came around again. They shook it off, trying to keep that grim possibility to the back of their mind.

They came to the taxi dock's entrance, where a Diggersby was beginning to close the gate. He looked up when he saw Cathbad approaching.

"Sorry, Your Grace," he said. "But we're locking down the dock so the perpetrators of that explosion over at the cathedral can't escape!"

"It does not matter. They have already escaped," Cathbad said. "I need to book a taxi for Prince Leonid posthaste. Please reopen the dock."

"For him?" The Diggersby cast a wary glance at Leonid. "You sure you can trust him? Been hearin' wild aul' stuff about the Sel prince in our Breff."

"What you heard in passing matters not." The Absol gave him a hard stare. "We are in trying times, and I need to resolve a matter posthaste, with Prince Leonid being its executor."

"Hmph." The Selenian prince gave a grunt, looking to the side. In spite of his earlier pledge, he still was none too happy about being subject to Cathbad's orders.

"I dunno…We don't exactly give free passes around here," the Diggersby said, scratching the back of his head doubtfully with his long ears. "And the rí didn't give us any notice."

"Please." Cathbad's hard gaze did not waver. "This is most urgent. If I cannot organise this and change Fate, then the peace in our capital may well shatter. I mean it when I say this matter cannot wait."

"What's this matter all about then, eh? You've been talkin' about how urgent it is, but ye haven't said what it–"

"It's none of your business," Leonid cut in. "Back in Iria, mercenaries needed not state their missions to any transport when carrying them out. I see no reason why it would be different here. Now step aside! You are wasting our time!"

Without waiting for an answer, he shoved the partially ajar gate wide open, knocking the Diggersby back. Leonid marched in and gazed at the taxis currently residing in the dock, with Carwyn marching after him.

"Oi!" the rabbit yelled. "I didn't give you entrance to–"

"Hush," Cathbad interjected, standing between Leonid and the Diggersby. "He is right. Your questioning is ultimately wasteful when time is of the essence." An almost threatening edge was entering their voice. "Now then. Who here is fit enough to fly?"

"...O-Over there." The rabbit pointed to an Aerodactyl duo. "They've been resting here for a while. They should be ready for another flight."

"Good. Thank you." Cathbad turned and trotted over to Leonid, who happened to be speaking with the aforementioned Aerodactyl.

"So what do we get fer ferryin' ye about, eh?" one of them was querying, a sceptical tone present in his voice.

"Money, of course," Leonid replied. "The Archdruid shall handle the payment. …I should hope anyway." He gave a nod of acknowledgement to the archdruid as they came up to him and the Aerodactyl.

"Forgive me if I cannot pay you immediately," Cathbad said. "But know that I will do so handsomely if you can take Leonid and Carwyn to Dropstone Caverns."

"That place?" one of the Aerodactyl said, their wings physically drooping at the mention of it. "But that's where them Cered rebels go in and out of!"

"I am aware of that. And I am aware of the risk you will be taking upon bringing them there," Cathbad said. "Hence why I will pay twice the usual fare."

"Twice that, eh? Nah." The other Aerodactyl shook his head. "Ya'd need three times at least!"

"Three times it is, then," Cathbad declared, with a finality that suggested they would not budge further. "Do we have a deal?"

"Ya sure do, kirkie." The Aerodactyl gave a toothy grin. "C'mon, you lot. Get in."

"Very well." And with that, Leonid climbed into the taxi cab, with the six Falinks of Carwyn hopping aboard behind him. Once N had cleared, the prince shut the door behind him.

"Right, off we go, then!" The Aerodactyl pair began to flap their wings, with one of them addressing Cathbad. "You better have that dosh for us when we get back, Your Grace!"

With those parting words, the taxi cab lifted off into the air. Cathbad watched them go, their paws shaking in trepidation.

Do not let me down, Prince Leonid. Do not let your third chance go to waste.

---

The taxi flew eastwards from Breifne, towards an area of Alba that showed some signs of life in its countryside. Tír an Rí, the tír in which Breifne resided, was one of the more fertile areas of Alba that the desert had not yet swallowed up. There was some degree of grassland, and below, Leonid could spot farmers tilling away at their fields in the hope for some produce.

Yet even up here, the Bisharp could see just how horribly dry the land was. There evidently had not been rain for some time, and given today's exceptionally high temperatures, the fields almost looked abandoned with how few Pokémon were tending to them.

At the reminder of the weather, Leonid brought his tattered cloak to his brow. Heavens above, he thought. What hellish heat this is. Rarely have I felt it to this extreme. Surely even Albans cannot tolerate such intensity? What Pokémon could even survive here, apart from the most naturally adept Fire-types?

"Are you well, Your Highness?" C asked.

"I am fine," Leonid panted. "You feel this heat too, surely?"

"You bet," R remarked, sweat visible on his face. "Good gods almighty, this is too much."

"W-Well, we should be in Ceredigion soon," N piped up. "It'll be cooler there."

"And before that, the Dropstone Caverns," Y added. "At least we'll be out of the sun in there."

The mention of the Mystery Dungeon made Leonid grit his teeth and look out of the window, away from Carwyn. Needless to say, some of them were quick to catch on.

"You okay, Your Highness?" W queried.

"...I'd rather not go back there," the Bisharp murmured. "It brings back memories."

Ragged refugees as far as the eye could see.

Infants, children and adults alike crying about those who they had to leave behind, whether living or dead.

And all eyes glaring at him, in the knowledge that he was not one of them.

"It's for your country, Your Highness," C stated, a grave, serious tone slightly deviating from his normal drill sergeant temperament. "The memories are with us, too. Yet…we soldier on in spite of them."

Soldier on. Leonid almost wanted to laugh at the unintentional pun, but held his tongue. Now wasn't the time for jokes. Now was the time to get serious.

The taxi turned briefly as the Aerodactyl headed southeast. And over the mountains…Leonid caught sight of that place.

A dry mountainous landscape, with cracks in the hills gouged out from harsh weathering over the millennia. There was some degree of green covering, but it was few and far between, not too unlike the farmland they had just passed over.
And over those hills…lay a most troubled tír.

Ceredigion…or Ceredigonia. Leonid frowned. Two names, two cultures…both of whom are irreconcilable people.

---

Dropstone Caverns
5F​

Mercifully, as W predicted, the Dropstone Caverns proved to be a balm from the merciless heat attacking Alba. Said heat never left Leonid and Carwyn, even after they landed and bid farewell to the Aerodactyl fliers, who stayed to rest for a while before their journey back to Breifne for that much-promised fare from Cathbad.

Leonid and Carwyn's prospects were not as bright. At the other side of these hills was possibly the most dangerous place in Alba right now. A melting pot of cross-border violence and hatred that had boiled over decades ago.

Depending on the person he asked, he was about to be in Dresilia after exiting this Mystery Dungeon, and therefore be liable for trespassing. Not that this smaller crime mattered - for the Dresilians would no doubt have bigger crimes to charge him with if he was successful on this mission.

But before all that…lay the matter of the Mystery Dungeon. In its wayward, labyrinthine manner, it was twisting, confusing and threw all manner of objects at Leonid and Carwyn, whether ferals or traps.

And for the Selenian prince who was racing against the clock to save his country…this irked him to no end.

"Begone!" yelled Leonid, slashing at a Drifblim that was blocking his way to the stairs. The ghost recoiled but quickly righted itself, blowing a series of purple flames his way. The Bisharp leapt out of the way just in time, the edges of his cloak grazing one of the flames and burning a hole at its ends.

Leonid would've flown into a rage at the damage to his cape, but it had become tattered at the ends anyway over time, ever since he had fled from Iria Castle five years ago in the wake of Mitrofan's coup. That was among the first things he planned to do once becoming tsar again; consign the dirty worn cloak to the trash where it belonged.

That will be so one day, the Bisharp thought, as another Night Slash punctured a hole in the feral Drifblim and the creature fell to the ground, disintegrating into nothing. Leonid huffed, before continuing up the stairs, followed closely behind by Carwyn.

---

Dropstone Caverns
7F​

Not long to go now, Leonid thought. One more floor and they'd be out of here and into Ceredigion proper.

It was mostly a straightforward affair finding the stairs. W, Y and N had made an unlucky step into a spin trap, and their dizziness came at an inopportune time when a pair of Swoobat ferals swooped in to try and pick them off. But Leonid and Carwyn's other three fought hard to keep them off the other afflicted Falinks.

One of the ferals let loose an Air Slash. Leonid reflexively held his arms in an X shape to block, but at the last moment, two of Carwyn - W and R - moved in front and took the attack.

"Excuse me! Stay back!" he ordered. "I'm strong against them - you all aren't! Now stay put and do not break formation!"

"S-Sorry, Your Highness," R and W apologised in unison.

Leonid gritted his teeth as he readied a Night Slash, parrying the other Swoobat's Heart Stamp before slashing the bat twice. It shrieked in pain, but Leonid did not let up, his head shining a metallic grey before he slammed it into the ailing feral. The Iron Head did it in, with the Swoobat crumbling to nothing.

There was still the other Swoobat to contend with, but Leonid was not fazed. He was more irritated than anything. These beasts are wasting my time, he thought. And they've wounded my men, too. He glanced over at Carwyn briefly, who was gotten back into formation - although R and W sported clear cuts from the attack prior.

The Swoobat let loose another Air Cutter. Leonid crossed his arms and took the attack, grunting as it hit him. He stood his ground and ran forward, leaping up and slamming another Iron Head into the Swoobat, knocking it back into the wall. The bat dizzily tried to fly out before crumpling to the ground.

"Hmph." Leonid kicked it aside. "No mercy for feral trash."

"Your Highness!" C called, as Carwyn ran up to him, quick to surround him. "We have found the stairs. It should be over that-a-way." He gestured with his helmet to an exit to their south-east. "We will go and–"

"Before that," Leonid interrupted. "I have something to say to you all."

Carwyn as a unit straightened up. C, A, R and W looked straight into their leader's eyes, while Y and N traded nervous glances before following suit with their troop.

"You are my bodyguards, and I appreciate you all for keeping me safe. But!" Scorn crossed the prince's face. "Do not jump in where you do not belong! I can take a hit or two! I am no mere weakling!"

"Yes, Your Highness," C said, nodding. The rest of the troop looked down in shame.

"Though you are strong, do not forget that I am not the same weakling prince that you found half-dead in Mirionydd. I have become much stronger since then. Even if I did not pass Fachtna's training, I cannot say it did not toughen me...my feelings for that cut-throat cur aside." Leonid clenched one of his bladed hands in memory of that time.

"We understand, Your Highness."

"...I have lost too many people." Leonid's expression then became somewhat wistful. "Do not make yourselves join my family because of some reckless action to protect me. You are not equal to them….but you and Yuliya are all I have. Do you understand?"

"We do, Your Highness."

"Then march forth and scout ahead. …But do not break formation unless I order you to."

"Yes, Your Highness!"

With his lecture over, Leonid followed after Carwyn, who marched towards the stairs they'd scouted out moments before. The conversation, particularly the mention of his family, brought feelings and memories back to him he had hoped not to revisit again.

He looked at the ground, a bitter grimace coming over him.

Svetlana…

---

Six years ago…

A Pawniard walked down the hallway to the throne room, flanked by a number of retainers. He wore a circlet studded with red gemstones, and a black cape with flowing red frills on his back. Due to his short height, it dragged on the floor, and his retainers took care not to step on it.

The prince tried to hold his head high as a gesture of honour. But he didn't have the will to do so, and he instead gazed pensively at the ground.

Prince Leonid Klimentovich Ruslan had not been well. A year after the silver jubilee of his father, all had gone downhill in House Ruslan. The sweet happiness and glorious triumphalism of his father's success was now a distant memory, eclipsed by a great tragedy that had struck Selenia's leading house at its core.

The numb feeling from it hadn't abated for Leonid. The deep shock had cut a wound deep within his chest, and he wasn't sure if it would ever heal.

Even now, thinking about it, he could feel the emotion welling within him, and tears threatened to spill over.

No, Leonid told himself, as he took a shaky breath. I must be strong. For my family. My brother…that is what he would want…

"We are here, Your Highness."

Leonid looked up at the Escavalier before him, the distinguished scarf and painted armour marking him as a high-ranking retainer. Since he was someone who'd been accompanying him loyally since his birth, the prince regarded the knight as one of his most faithful retainers, ready to die for him if need be.

"Thank you, Olgierd," Leonid managed to say, trying to keep his inner emotions at bay.

The doors of the throne room parted, and the prince stepped in, followed by Olgierd and the other retainers. The vast expanse of the throne room, though opulent in its decoration and spic and span as it always was, almost felt like it was missing something. Ever since the tragedy, Leonid felt as though the nobility and grandeur of the throne room had wilted somewhat.

Chiefly due to the absence of a certain individual, one who had celebrated his silver jubilee not even a year before. And yet…the throne lay idle, its red upholstery and obsidian carvings untouched by the man who had sat in it for the last twenty-five years.

Leonid bit his lip at the sight. He knew his father, Tsar Kliment, had been just as affected as him by what had happened in recent times, and had resigned himself to his private quarters in grief, along with his mother, Tsarina Yelizaveta. He didn't blame them one bit; if the prince were in either of their positions, he would no doubt have done the same thing.

But the sight of the vacant throne weaved a web of unease in the prince's gut. After all, if there was no one on the throne…then who would lead the country?

"Welcome, Your Highness."

Leonid snapped his attention back to those next to the throne. Standing to its right was Marshal Trokhym, the Rillaboom nodding in acknowledgement of him. In front of the throne, before the bottommost step before it, stood a pair of Mienshao. One stood taller and looked somewhat aged, with wrinkles beginning to form across his face and his whiskers fraying slightly. The other had a funeral veil partially obscuring her face. She was younger than Gerasim and wore a tiara studded with small white gemstones, not too unlike Leonid's princely circlet. Her expression was wistful behind the veil, and upon seeing it, a sense of understanding sprung in Leonid's heart. He understood all too well the reason for her sadness.

"Well met, Lord Gerasim and Lady Svetlana of Lysagora." Leonid bowed his head in acknowledgement of them.

"I am glad to see you are doing well, Your Highness," Gerasim began. "No doubt the tragic murder of our beloved tsesarevich, His Highness Prince Kasimir, still weighs heavy on your heart. I have nothing but heartfelt sympathy for you, Your Highness, and His Majesty and all of those who were grievously affected by Prince Kasimir's death."

He cast a glance towards Svetlana, whose expression looked to be nearing the point of tears. The princess-to-be breathed in and out slowly, in an attempt to put those fears to the side.

"I thank you for your consideration, Lord Lysagora," Leonid replied. "Now what, pray tell, is your business here?"

"I have come to propose an offer to you, Your Highness," Gerasim said. "I had hoped His Majesty would be here for my audience. Alas…" He gazed at the empty throne out of the corner of his eye. "He appears to be still be in mourning."

"Indeed, he is. He shall emerge when his grief has passed," Olgierd informed.

"Is that so? Hmm." Gerasim stroked his whiskers in consideration. "I offer naught but my wholehearted condolences to His Majesty in this dark time for our nation. Truly, he is a most astute ruler, and I am proud to have served under him for some twenty-one years as of last month. Yet…there is the matter of the tsardom's wellbeing. Though Selenia wallows in mourning and grief, we have no choice but to consider her future without Prince Kasimir."

"Is that so…" Leonid's gaze fell to the throne room's red carpet. He knew this question would have to be addressed at some point. All of his life, he had assumed that Kasimir would become tsar and he would presumably help command the army, become an oblast lord, or perhaps even become an ambassador of goodwill to the East. Such were among the main wonts of non-tsesarevich princes to drift towards in their lives outside of the walls of Iria Castle.

But with Kasimir gone, a new reality had set in. If Selenia's tsesarevich happened to perish before their ascension to the throne, then the throne would be inherited by a younger sibling within House Ruslan. And that would mean…

"I would presume that His Majesty would transfer the inheritance of the throne to you, Your Highness," Gerasim continued. "Has this been confirmed yet?"

"No." Leonid shook his head. "But I expect my father will do so at some point in the near future."

"And when exactly will that be?"

"...I do not know, Lord Lysagora."

"Hmm. Well, in any case, I wish to offer a proposal to you, Your Highness." Gerasim gestured to the Mienshao next to him. "It involves my daughter."

"What is this proposal you speak of?" As the conversation had gone on, Leonid observed the body language of Svetlana. His would've-been-sister-in-law briefly fidgeted at her sleeves and fiddled with a pendant necklace hung around her neck. It spoke of pensiveness and uncertainty - as if she herself had reservations about what was to come.

"The proposal is simple." Gerasim paused impressively. "I would like for Lady Svetlana Gerasimovna Lysagora, my daughter, to become your bride."

Leonid froze upon hearing the proposal, looking up at the older Mienshao with disbelief.

"E-Excuse me? Did I hear you correctly, Lord Gerasim?"

"It is as I have said, Your Highness."

"I…" Leonid considered how to word it politely, before shaking his head and choosing to drive his argument more critically.
"Forgive me for questioning your wisdom, Lord Gerasim, but have you considered the timing of this at all? Need I remind you we are still in a period of mourning? This is hardly the time to be marrying off my brother's widow to another, let alone to another in that same family! And what's more, you are pushing this without the approval of my father!"

"You misunderstand, Your Highness," Gerasim said, holding a paw up as a defensive gesture. "I came to seek the approval of His Majesty for this. Our houses are close, and if we merely switch Svetlana's husband to you, milord, then we would continue to have those ties that we would have had if His Highness Prince Kasimir still drew breath."

"Lord Gerasim…" Leonid took a cursory glance at Svetlana, noticing her pensive, nervous expression, before focusing his gaze on her father. "Have you consulted with Lady Svetlana about this at all?"

"I have, Your Highness." Gerasim put a paw on his daughter's shoulder. "Have I not, Svetlana?"

"...You have, indeed, Father." Svetlana spoke for the first time in this conversation.

"There, you see? She has agreed to this proposal," Gerasim said. "Now we await your approval, Your Highness. Please, I implore that you would accept it; it would be for the good of the country! Especially given how popular Prince Kasimir was, having his widow remain the future tsarina of our nation could carry over some of that popularity."
"That…is true," Leonid conceded.

"We can start making the arrangements now, Your Highness." Gerasim gestured to a servant, who handed him a scroll. "I have outlined a draft of a proposed marriage agreement in writing, largely based on the previous vows of engagement Prince Kasimir and Svetlana had. All we need are the signatures of His Majesty and Your Highness. The sooner your names are marked on this parchment, then the sooner we can–"

"No."

Gerasim's speech was interjected by Leonid, who stared at the lord with a mixture of incredulity and indignance.

"I beg your pardon, Your Highness?" The Mienshao was taken aback by the interruption.

"...How strange," remarked Leonid, crossing his arms. "This is all rather hasty of you, Lord Gerasim. In a time of mourning, and not but a few weeks since my brother's passing, already you try and push this patchwork agreement through, with no input from my father or I, and with most insistent emphasis on attaining our signatures. All in making sure Lady Svetlana, your daughter, can hold onto her prospects of inheriting the second highest office in the land."

He tilted his head. "Is there an agenda I am unaware of, Lord Gerasim? Forgive this insinuation, but this all seems very…dubious, if you catch my meaning."

"D-Dubious?!" The half-jump from Gerasim broke through his composed stance before, and he quickly brushed off his surprise. Svetlana let out a silent gasp, and she glanced down worriedly at Leonid.

"Absolutely not, Your Highness!" Gerasim went on. "We in House Lysagora remain forever loyal to you and our nation! We merely want the best for Selenia, and we clamour for the return to normality! In this most vulnerable time, we must reassert ourselves, and assure the populace we have not been thrust into disarray by the tragedy of our tsesarevich's assassination!"

"Y-Yes," Svetlana added, rather more meekly than her father. "My heart would wish for nothing more than the reversal of Kasimir's death. I wish he was here. I truly do." She breathed in, emotion straining her voice. "B-But…he would not want this sadness. He would want us to be happy and move on. And if this agreement can mend this sorrow that tears me apart…then I will accept it."

"...Lady Svetlana…" Leonid bit his lip. Aside from his family, Svetlana had the most reason out of anyone in Selenia to be sorrowful over Kasimir's death, being not too far off their marriage date. And now the love of her life was six feet under, with his flowering ambition dead along with him.

He felt for her. But a cursory look at Lord Gerasim - surprisingly less sympathetic than he would have thought - reminded him of the previous argument, and he took that into account when considering his next words.

"...I understand your feelings, Lady Svetlana," Leonid began. "Kasimir's death is the greatest tragedy I have experienced in my lifetime, and no doubt it is the same for you. Know that I empathise with you wholeheartedly. I truly do.

"However…" He then turned to Gerasim. "I cannot accept this agreement as it is. It flies in the face of due process, and even this period of mourning cannot allow for the suspension of arrangements such as this. I will not rule out the option of marrying Svetlana….but there will be no shortcuts in this. You will negotiate with my father on forging a brand new marriage agreement and putting it in writing. Is that understood, Lord Gerasim?"

"...Crystal clear, Your Highness," the elder Mienshao sighed in reluctant acceptance.

"Now then. I shall return to my chambers at once." Leonid flicked his cape and began to walk away. Olgierd and the other retainers, having stood to the side during the conversation with Gerasim and Svetlana, returned to their original formation as they marched the prince out of the throne room.

Before he left, Leonid couldn't help but turn his head, and out of the corner of his eye, caught sight of Gerasim conversing with Trokhym. It was only a brief glimpse before the throne room door was closed by the castle guards.

But the conversation in there had given Leonid plenty to think about. In particular, Gerasim's attitude stuck in his mind, and he frowned as he mulled over his thoughts.

---

A lot had happened between then and now. But Leonid still remembered that conversation six years later, and Gerasim's haste stuck in his mind.

He didn't know where Gerasim was now; he'd forgotten to ask Yuliya about that. But a thought came to him as he remembered that conversation again.

It would appear I have my work cut out for me when I ascend to the throne. Such power is the envy of anyone, and Gerasim is far from the only one who would crave it for themselves.

But I cannot quash those problems now. Leonid shook his head. There are far more pressing issues at hand.

He saw the light at the edge of the cave, and Carwyn advanced before him to make sure that there was no ambush in place at the cave's mouth. Leonid followed after his bodyguard, eyes darting around to make sure of that for himself.

He huffed, moving his arm up to shield his face as the sunlight hit him.

I would rather not return here to this hellhole of violence and oppression. But it is not as if I have a choice in the matter.

His mind flashed back to his time there, and he gritted his teeth.

Team Elpis, you had better not be in the thick of that mess plaguing Ceredigion…

---

Arian couldn't describe the odd feeling he felt when he began to arise from consciousness. His head was spinning, and his eyes felt unfocused. He also felt quite tired, and was tempted to fall back into slumber once again.

But the fact that he had even been asleep in the first place made him get up with a start. It was then that he suddenly felt a sharp headache throb at his forehead.

"Urgh…" The Riolu held his paw to his head in an attempt to nurse the pain, but it did no good. Breathing in and out to distract himself from it, his vision eventually focused and he could see clearly again.

Once he saw what was in front of him, though, he blinked in shock.

A set of iron bars, and a blank wall.

If he was still human, Arian would've blanched. He knew full well what this was.

"Wh-What? Why am I in prison? How did I even…?" Quickly he racked his brains, trying to recall what happened before he fell unconscious.

"Oh heeeeeeyyy! You're awake!"

A shrill voice echoed through the gaol, one that made Arian's headache throb even more. He barely registered the entrance of an azure serpent slithering to the front of his cell, on the other side of the bars.

"Hiiii, Arian!" Sabrina waved her tail in greeting. "Finally, you woke up! You must be a big sleepyhead back in Selenia, hee hee!"

"S-Sabrina?" Arian mumbled, still in a daze. "What are you doing here?"

Wait. Sabrina?

Then his memory came back to him. The explosion back at Breifne Cathedral, the way Sabrina dragged him through it, and that heart she flung his way that made his vision swim…

"Come with me, Arian~" Her sickly sweet voice still rang in his head. That was the last thing he remembered before waking up here.

"Oh, I have business here," the Dragonair replied. "My daddy's the praetor here in Ceredigonia! I didn't mention that before, did I?"

"C-Ceredigonia…?" An icy feeling came into Arian's chest, and with it, a realisation that made his expression darken. "You never worked for the Rí's Guild, did you?"

"...Aw, was it that easy to spot?" Sabrina pouted. "If only you were as blockheaded as Yannie. He's so handsome, but goodness, he can be gullible sometimes!"

"You were a mole!" Arian shouted, pointing his paw at her in fury.

"No, silly, I'm a dragon. Always have been!" Sabrina tittered. "Aw, you're so cute when you're angry."

"Don't call me cute!" the Riolu yelled, balling his other fist in anger.

"But you are! Makes me wish I could keep you to myself, you know?" The Dragonair's expression turned somewhat mopey. "But alas…there are plans in place for you by higher powers, and I'm just a messenger for them."

"What are you a messenger of?" Arian demanded. "What are you planning for me?"

"Oh, I'd love to tell you. I really would…" Sabrina kept up the pleading façade. "But I'm so sorry, I can't. Maybe when Daddy stops by, he'll tell you everything."

"Damn it!" Arian punched the ground in annoyance. "I knew you were suspicious! Enfys was onto something with you!"

"Oh, you listened to her?!" In an instant, Sabrina's expression twisted to disgust. "It doesn't matter. She won't save you now. Not Yannie, not the rí… not even your partner."

"Elvira!" Arian suddenly realised. "Where is she? Did you take her away too?!"

"Oh no, that wasn't me," Sabrina denied, coiling herself defensively. "She's…somewhere. It doesn't matter anyway; if all goes well, you won't be seeing her again."

"No…no!" Arian got up and tried to run for the cell bars. But he didn't make it far before he suddenly was pulled down. The clinking of metal rang in his ears, and when he looked at his legs, he was horrified to see two large metal shackles bindingthem.

"Teehee!" Sabrina giggled. "I could watch you all day, Arian. But I have business to attend to. Hope you have fun in here without me~"

"Grrragh! You won't get away with this!" Arian yelled, as Sabrina began to slither away.

"Oh, Arian, you silly-billy," Sabrina teased. "We have you now. All we just have to do is wait for Dominian to arrive. And then it's off to him."

With that, she slithered away, leaving Arian alone in his cell. Once she had left, the Riolu lay there, in the same position where the shackles had dragged him down. He made no effort to get back up, for he didn't have the strength to do so.

Being behind bars and learning that there were plans for him…it was ominous. The Riolu began to feel fear creep deep into his mind. Whatever was being plotted for him behind the scenes, it certainly wasn't anything good.

If Elvira were here, no doubt he'd have at least some confidence. But with her whereabouts unknown, he felt alone - more alone than he'd ever felt in his time in Ardalion.

One word came to Arian's mind, and he said it with a pained sigh.

"Fuck."

---

"Nngh…"

Elvira's eyes fluttered open. The first thing she was aware of was a collective hullabaloo, as though she was in the middle of a crowd. Although she could hear all sorts of noise behind that, the sound of metal rang particularly loud.

One particularly loud clang made her jump in fright, and with that, she was fully awake.

"Oh, look! She's finally awake."

"Huh?!" Now that Elvira's focus was back to her, she looked to see where the voice was coming from…

….Only to be distracted by the metal bars in front of her.

"Wh-What?" A conflation of confusion and fear began to form inside heras she realised the connotations of her being behind bars. "Am I in prison? Wh-Why am I–?"

She broke off to look around her - only to immediately find two tall figures gazing at her from the back of the cell. One was a Delphox whose dress fur functioned rather more like a skirt, with her black legs exposed up to her knees. The other had an odd and rather dishevelled appearance - they looked like a Zoroark, except their fur was bleached white with patches of red. There was also no playfulness in this inmate's eyes, with a cold, observant gaze that sent a chill down Elvira's spine.

There was a telling detail on both of them that made Elvira gulp. Around their ankles, a sturdy shackle bound them to the wall.

"Your accent…" the Zoroark noted. "You're not like the other rebels."

"Are you Selenian?" the Delphox queried.

"U-Um, y-yes." A chord of fear rang in Elvira's voice, the Treecko discomforted with the immediate interrogation by the fox.

"How'd a Selenian like you get all the way up here in Ceredigonia?" the Delphox asked. "Your homeland's way over in-"

"Oi!" yelled another prisoner from the cell across from them - a Shelgon. "It's Ceredigion, you stupid bitch!"

"Shut up yourself!" fired back the Delphox. "I'm not a part of your damn crusade!"

"Crusade?" Elvira tilted her head.

"Oh, you know. Rebelling against the Dressies because they're occupying the tír," Delphox informed. "Another day in Ceredigonia, pretty much."

"Ceredigonia…" Then it hit Elvira; that same region that Enfys and Yannick mentioned as being ridden with danger. And she'd seen it herself on the maps she studied up on; Ceredigonia was always marked differently, depending on the kind of atlas she read. Some claimed it to be in Dresilia; others said it was Alba; others had it marked as 'occupied territory'. "Oh no…Not here! I-I don't want to be here! I should be in Breifne, not here!"

"Breifne?" The Delphox cocked her head in confusion. "The Alban capital? I'm getting confused as hell here."

"Let's take it from the top," the Zoroark proposed. "Start with introductions, at least, before explaining everything to each other."

"Well, not 'everything'," the Delphox refuted.

"But names should be a good place to start." The Zoroark then looked down on the Treecko, who tried not to shrink under his gaze. "You, Treecko. Your name."

"E-Elvira."

"I'm Tanith," the Delphox said.

"...Osiris," the Zoroark stated plainly. "Now then–"

But before he could continue, loud shrill cries echoed from down the corridor.

"No! Stop! I'm too young to die! I'm innocent, I swear!"

"You'll pay for this, you Dressie bastards!"

There was a tense silence, before a pair of Drapion and Pangoro guards passed by with a yelling Machop duo. Both were chained and distraught, and both looked to be around the same age as Elvira.

"Wh-Where are they being taken to?" Elvira asked worriedly.

"The gallows," Tanith replied, without missing a beat.

"Th-" Elvira froze in horror. "The gallows? Y-You can't mean-!"

"It is what she says," Osiris said. "They are going to be executed."

"N-No…!" Elvira's hands went to her face in horror. "They're too young! This is unbelievable cruelty!"

"Try telling Cunobelinus that," Tanith growled. "But nope! Every person in this prison's earmarked for execution. And then he wonders why rebels keep cropping up like weeds."

"E-Every person…?" Elvira couldn't believe what she was hearing. But the expression on Tanith and Osiris's faces spoke of their sincerity.

"I'm afraid it's true," Osiris said. "Any day it could be us. At this point, it's best to say your last rites because those in power won't even give you that much."

"I-It can't be…" Elvira began to tremble in fear. On its own, it sounded like simple fear-mongering, but the fact this was coming from two prisoners who spoke with the utmost sincerity about it made her believe that the jaws of death weren't far from gobbling her up. While she didn't have Arian's perception, she didn't feel that Tanith and Osiris were exaggerating in the slightest.

The thought of her partner reminded her; where was he? Was he also in this prison? What happened to the Riolu while she was being abducted? Was he also kidnapped? Or was he still in Alba, blissfully unaware that she was now facing a very real possibility of death?

Whatever it was, it was only occurring to her now that it had been a while since they weren't together. And with Arian separated from her…Elvira began to feel a horrible loneliness without him.

She looked away from Osiris and Tanith, trying to hide the tear that was dribbling down her cheek. A collective tumult of panic, isolation and fear was building within the Treecko, and she began to hyperventilate. If she wasn't out of her element back in Alba, she was well and truly out of it now.

Please, I don't want to die….I need to find a way out of here. I have to.

 

[Ambyssin]

Do not let me down, Prince Leonid. Do not let your third chance go to waste.

I mean, the fic's over he fails, but I so badly want to "Narrator: He will let Cathbad down. His third chance will go to waste."

What Pokémon could even survive here, apart from the most naturally adept Fire-types?

[Groudon breakdances to Darude Sandstorm in the background.]

lay a most troubled tír

both of whom are irreconcilable people

Man, didn't we just finish a conflict involving irreconcilable people? 🤔

consign the dirty worn cloak to the trash where it belonged.

#Priorities. As opposed to, y'know, taking steps to restore his country and rid it of corruption and whatnot.

The deep shock had cut a wound deep within his chest

That's a bit too much deep for one sentence.

the odd feeling he felt

And this is a bit too much feeling. XP

"Hiiii, Arian!" Sabrina waved her tail in greeting. "Finally, you woke up!

My daddy's the praetor here in Ceredigonia

Well my Xenoblade OST on iTunes has the word "praetor" in a track and it is a very bad track so clearly that means this guy's evil.

"Fuck."

WATCH YOUR FUCKING LANGUAGE, ARIAN.

The other had an odd and rather dishevelled appearance - they looked like a Zoroark, except their fur was bleached white with patches of red.

Suddenly Hisuiark!

the Delphox queried

Queried is a terrible speech verb. I'm not even sure it truly qualifies as one. Nothing wrong with "asked" or "wondered." Don't get too fancy.

"It is what she says," Osiris said. "They are going to be executed."

100% Vegna-approved gaol.

A fairly transitional chapter, half to get Leonid toward his destination and half to show what's become of our heroes. Given that this appears to be setting initial stages I... get the sense we're going to be spending a solid chunk of chapters here. Wonder if you're planning for a two-faced scenario where Leonid is coming it from the outside while Elvira manages to... somehow start something from the inside to spur a prison break. Alternatively, Arian is going to get experimented on and this will be when his Sublime Creator Sword activatesaura fully awakens, leading to some sort of destructive scenario that then allows for a prison break. Or maybe I'm huffing the copium that Osiris is good(ish) and will get to stick around. (Totally not biased.)

I'm somewhat ambivalent over the flashback scene because, unless I'm misremembering, Leonid previously implied he did end up betrothed to Svetlana before the coup. If he was that ambivalent about it, something must've happened to change his mind. Perhaps that's intentionally excluded because you don't want to give us the big picture. But having Leonid second guess it now of all times feels a bit unusual, IMO.

 

[SparklingEspeon]

Hello! I’m here as part of our review exchange, this time focusing on chapters 1 – 4. I’ve seen Dual Wills floating around for a while now, and perhaps even read the first chapter once or twice, but I’ve never properly gotten into it. So I figure, now’s as good a time as any! I don’t know much about it, aside from the main characters’ species and that there’s an aggron, so I’ll be going into it blind for the most part.

I thought the opening was done well. It’s a bit textbook, but textbook isn’t always a bad thing. I really appreciate that for the most part, you skipped past all the normal ‘WHAT I’m a Pokemon?!!?’ stuff and jumped right into getting the main team together. In just four chapters, you’ve gotten the team together and sent them on their first mission, which, tbh, most fics haven’t done by their first ten. So kudos on that! It really does feel like a strong beginning, and despite the characters not even having set out on their journey, I can see their motivations, wants, and needs clearly. I guess what I’m saying is that these four chapters made me want to read on beyond what I already had, which is a sign of a really well-told story, and you should be proud of yourself!

I think the overall setup is interesting so far. I figured maybe you’d be taking some inspiration from Ireland given the names, though the current state of things by the time Arian is dropped in gives me kind of ‘rural russia’ vibes. I think it’s an interesting take to have a fic where, rather than joining a guild, the guild was destroyed years ago and the main team is basically free-lancing instead. It makes me curious to see more of the wider sphere here – is there some kind of criminals’ guild that hands out rewards instead? Are they going to be working for the mafia? And what does the wider regime look like? Is it an oppressive state, or did things just go sideways five years ago and not recover? It does look like there are multiple kingdoms at play here, at least, some of them doing better and some worse (the deserts, presumably). Not sure how many of them we’ll see.

For character work, I like the characters so far, though obviously at the start of the story—and this being a story where the main character has amnesia—there isn’t as much to go on as in later parts. I think it was clever to shift most of the character work onto Elvira for the time being, since her father’s death and the need to prove herself is carrying the fic for the time being. Arian is pretty much a blank slate hero for the time being, though he’s showing some promise and initiative by dashing off into mystery dungeons to save others already. I think he compliments Elvira a lot, who has the knowledge needed but not the initiative to take it, whereas Arian knows nothing for now, but will still leap into danger if it means getting others out of it. Zenobia is playing the part of a side character for now, but the readiness with which she accepts Arian and the fact that she was apparently married to a famous guild member makes me wonder if maybe she’s a bit more knowledgeable than she lets on. She is strangely causal about accepting in a stranger with a crazy backstory, after all, and seems to almost be pushing them towards making a team… almost like she knows what Arian’s arrival means?

I will say that chapter two had… a lot of information swirling about? It’s a lot of straight-up, textbook style exposition about names and famous people and kingdoms, and to be honest, I ended up skimming the vast majority of it. I’m guessing that the relevant pieces of that information will be coming back in the context of the story when we need it? I guess this is probably my most glaring negative, but it’s mostly because getting blindsided with massive spiels of text like that is kind of like hitting a brick wall while reading. I didn’t absorb much of it at all and mostly just resigned myself to gleaning it from the story later. Which, I guess, begs the question of if all that info is necessary in the first place, or if there’s a more elegant way to convey it.

In terms of negatives so far, the only other thing I’d point to is that there were a lot of times when I felt like rather than being conveyed naturally, Zenobia would tell Arian about what Elvira is feeling, rather than us picking that up from her actions/words. On one hand, it’s a way to get the information out, because Elvira is closed-off and surly. But on the other, I do wonder a bit why Zenobia is so trusting of Arian off-the-bat, who is basically a complete stranger in a land that I gather is rather hostile. Maybe she knows more about him than she’s letting on?

It's really just the beginning, so I can’t say for sure what the future chapters will hold. I’m guessing, though, that beating up two members of basically the mafia is going to bring swift consequences, and probably jettison Elvira and Arian out of home quicker than they were expecting. I’m guessing from there they’ll go and join up with the guild proper, or whatever replaced it, or alternatively, go and beat the shit out of the Thorned Roses first?

Overall, a nice start so far! As I said, you’ve crafted a really good beginning that made me want to read more, and at the end of the day that’s the most important bit. I’m excited to see where you go from here – it seems like there’s a vast world set up out there, but it’s still relatively a mystery as to what lies within it. I’m not yet sure whether this will be a one-piece type story, where kingdoms and places are crossed in largely episodic pieces, or something more centralized like AHFA where the guild sends the main characters to faraway places. Or maybe we won’t see those places at all! But for now, you have a strong start – here’s to hoping the rest will hold up!

~SparklingEspeon

 

[Kiba Makuro]

Hey there Arukona, it’s Kiba Makkuro here for my first review of Dual Wills, just in time for the Diner Review Event! I started reading this fic only a few months ago, and it’s always struck me as odd I’ve never got you for various little review trade pairing despite us doing so many at the same time.You’ve reviewed a bit of my stories before too, and Dual Wills does have so much that excites me so I decided to dig in.

Now as much as I’d like to do a cumulative review, I don’t have the energy for that right now, so I will try to give Chapter 14 Allusions and Anima my best first shot.

I also don’t want to harp too much on topics other folks mention in other reviews so let’s start.

Spoiler: Actual Review

After a fun sparring session with Team Mindfist the days go on. We start this chapter with Arian reading a history book, and talking about its contents with Elvira. Knowing that this story is influenced by numerous countries' real pasts in real life, alongside tons of political character drama it’s understandable that you’d continue to dripfeed, and then pour in more lore. However, like others have mentioned this section does read as a dump, and there’s more for us to taste just a bit later in the chapter.

This isn’t to say that Arian and Elvira’s dynamics aren’t charming. Inspired by the history of Team Hope, they aim to make Team Elpis into a shining beacon in their own light. Even if that means they’ll have to contend with Selenia and Miletos, along with every other country of Ardalion in their path, a campaign of justice in its infancy.

If there’s one major issue I’d like to bring up is that you bleed ellipses into practically every single paragraph. I can tell it’s probably a hold over for, pausing, or collecting thoughts, but this works better in a medium such as a visual novel or dialogue heavy JRPG.

Back to the harrowing fate of Melchior, Kallias, and Mitrofan, what could cause the former Guildmaster of the Irian Guild to go tyrant? Why must we make our Treecko-line characters suffer, either by circumstance or family?

Sifis was a Galvantula, yes, do please remember that when your cast gets big it’s nice to get a Pokemon species reminder for minor ones, even if their scenes are brief. Along with more mentions of non-human parts of their bodies, ears, tails, claws, etc.Yes it can possibly take the reader out of a scene but if done right helps re-establish the differences this world has compared to our own. This is a Pokemon Mystery Dungeon fic yes?

And now we get to settle down with Team Anima as the four look over the request board. Serafina and Natalie along with Arian and Elvira have found requests that take them to Lapis Grotto, and thus conveniently get to go on a joint-request and they even decide to split the funds! A rather roundabout couple of exchanges to get there however.

Serafina’s backstory, while gripping, does feel rather forced. I don’t know if we needed her entire life at this moment, maybe a quarter or half of what’s in the chapter should stay in. This leads into another unfortunate part of Dual Wills in my opinion, while readable yes, these chapters are often marred with extraneous details that I have to skim over to parse the meat of the chapter, segment by segment. Now I’m not one to go line by line and nitpick, however valid my suggestions could be, so I will focus on something more general to mention. Perhaps for the sake of grandiose, a few of your characters actions are partially written in past tense, and present tense. Now technically you can play around with tenses to highlight the impact or type of action, but it often makes the sentence end on a passive note. Same as with “tried to x”, this weakens an idea.

Skipping over what could be considered unnecessary combat in a Mystery Dungeon, but allowing the fun of unique items was a nice choice. It would have been nice to see Team Anima
I’ve rarely seen fics show an Oren Berry, but for shame on the idea of wasting a Rollcall Orb instead of doing the pro strategy of “wait there” and grabbing your other teammates/j.

Now I am majorly disappointed that you show an optimal challenge for four, a fight with ferals. You lightly mention the tension but it flies away completely because you don’t let any of them take a single blow. I know it’s more fun to have wild anime-esque battles where both sides argue about their ideals while launching attacks like in Ozerogard with the Thorned Roses. However at least one fight would show off Team Anima’s battle capabilities instead of just telling us them. Earlier in Lapis Grotto, you mention their friendship, but without seeing them do anything remotely helpful beside talking I can’t exactly believe this. Same goes for Arian’s dodging ability and Force Palm, not daring to at least show one or two attempts.

I suppose the last chapter did have the sparring with Team Mindfist, and even adding a small fight would ruin the chapter balance, though it is taken up by things I believe may be superfluous.

I wonder if Arian and Elvira should really tell Candice about the Irian Guild, but it doesn’t matter. She seemed to figure out the plot for herself, all based on so-called rumors. Thankfully it’s not like everyone’s being questioned about their return just yet .Though that’s bound to change eventually, with the stakes rising higher and higher in these later chapters you’ve got waiting for us.

One area that slowed down my reading experience is what I’d call a fondness for passive voice, actions just so happening, characters only noticing things, and other occurrences that you wanted to mention. It's not like there is no story without them, but I felt that particularly interrupted what could have been solid action scenes, fight or not.

Chance seems to shine bright on Team Elpis, and Team Anima as both of their request clients know of each other so they can go to Iria, which seems to be the namesake of the Guild to safely deliver Candice and the Amplifying Crystals to the clients. Though just like Mitrofan, times have changed in the last few years, what is it with five?

All in all I really enjoyed this chapter, and each of the previous ones of Dual Wills, even if I had quite a few constructive criticisms and comments. The spectacular world we get introduced to only in the first few chapters, the consequence of the past and forces of political power are masterfully felt. I also see or rather heard about those nods to Fire Emblem, Xenoblade Chronicles, and Ace Attorney in there, though the last one I’m the least familiar with. More references are always a plus. Character studies are what I believe to be the strongest element, establishing and introducing culture not often seen in modern media, especially pmd fanfic. And these chapters are your early work, I'm excited to catch up and see how things are like in your current chapters, more than a few snippets I've seen scattered about. Keep up the phenomenal work!

 

[Arukona]

Chapter 35
Wills in Chains​

Elvira's night of sleep in the prison was a restless one. She was already awake since her induced rest from the knockout, and the noisiness of some of the prisoners did not help. Worse still, she had discovered that Osiris snored in his sleep, and that did not help in the least. Countless minutes of that night were spent staring at the drab stone ceiling, wondering how in the world she got into this mess and how she was going to get out of it.

The first puzzle to solve was that she didn't know the prison's layout at all, and thus any exit plan she'd try to concoct would no doubt end in failure. Maybe she could ask her fellow prisoners if they knew anything when the next morning dawned.

…Which felt like forever until it finally happened, by which time Elvira had also finally succumbed to sleep on the cold rocky floor. The clanging of metal and distant shouting from the guards was what roused her from her slumber.

"Unh…" The Treecko sleepily rose, letting out a yawn as she tried to get up.

"Wakey-wakey, kiddo," Osiris said as he leapt out his bed – it was nothing more than planks suspended from chains in the wall – and onto his feet. Elvira noticed he was slightly hunched in his stance. "And you too, Tan."

"Damn wake-up calls…" grumbled Tanith, as she rolled out of her bed and landed unceremoniously on the stone floor. Her fur was a mess, particularly around her head, which made Elvira blink. Arian's bedhead could be pretty messy at times, but nothing compared to this.

"Up and at 'em, slackers!" yelled a drill sergeant-esque voice that made Elvira jump. In marched a number of guards, who began to file themselves towards each of the cells. "Better be awake, 'cause if you're not you're being sent straight to the Kleavor!"

"Yeah, yeah, we get it," Tanith murmured grumpily, wiping sleep from her eye and trying to smooth out her fur.

"Straight to the Kleavor?" Elvira looked up worriedly at her two fellow prisoners. "D-Does that mean…?"

"Probably hot air," Osiris huffed. "But you can never be sure in a place like this."

"I-I see…"

The guards came around to the trio's cell, opening it and immediately brandishing handcuffs, which they proceeded to slap on Elvira, Osiris, and Tanith. Elvira, having not experienced this before, yelped as the cuffs were tightened around her.

"Ow! Too tight!" she cried.

"Shut up!" The Makuhita clicking them on dealt a blow to her, knocking the Treecko to ground and eliciting a cry of pain from her. "Now come on! Move!"

"Tch." Tanith scowled under her breath. "Asshat."

They were marched through the hallways of the prison, with Elvira unable to nurse the blow efficiently thanks to how her hands were chained. She looked around her, trying to see if there might be an avenue of escape, but with the layout of the prison still an open question, she was left wanting.

The throng of prisoners was eventually marshalled to the prison courtyard, where the sun was still rising in the sky and therefore the heat wasn't quite as unbearable as it was over in Alba. It was a slight relief to not have to deal with the blazing temperatures, but at the same time, it was still a far cry from Selenia's temperate climate.

The prisoners were marched up in rows, and it was then that Elvira saw just how many there were. It had to number somewhere in the hundreds, and that was a shock to her. Just how big is this prison? She looked up at the complex, which for the first time she was able to see from a better angle. It certainly wasn't a small prison; whether it was like one of those island prisons off the coast of Selenia that she'd heard about, she did not know.

At least we're not in one of those. An escape would be much harder if we were offshore.

"Straighten up, prisoners!" yelled an Exploud, who, judging by the sash and headpiece, looked to be the prison's warden. "The praetor himself is here to see you all! Show respect, maggots!"

His drill sergeant tendencies put her in the mind of C from Carwyn. Elvira hadn't cared too much for the Falink, but he was infinitely preferable to this old yeller.

At that moment, a Druddigon appeared from one of the entrances. Dressed in a red toga, red armour and wearing an olive crown, he marched with a haughty gait, as if to suggest he was above all of the prisoners in here, and was flanked by red-scarved and chainmail-armoured guards. An instant, collective silent fury came over the prisoners, and Elvira saw just about every prisoner shoot a glare at the Druddigon. If looks could kill, he would be suffering death a hundredfold.

"There he is. Praetor Lugus Caeruleus Cunobelinus," growled Tanith. "The crook who's behind all this." She gestured to the rows of prisoners with her head.

"How horrible…" Elvira could only shake her head in despondence. Why must it be like this? Can leaders not find it in their hearts to show even some level of care for their smallfolk?

"It always amazes me when I gaze among you rebel scum and see you for the filth you truly are," the Druddigon remarked, as he began to walk down along two rows of prisoners. The glares from them did not abate one bit, and only intensified at his remarks. "I never knew there could be such a collection of rapscallious, unkempt tatterdemalions dwelling in my domain. I would have thought the praetors of times past would have quashed the sores of Alban blood out of Ceredigonia, but it appears they have slacked on this matter. ….And even I have been too lenient, by the looks of it." He let out a long sigh. "We need to speed up the cleansing of this scum from my realm. And we can start by picking out prisoners to send to the executioners this morning."

He casually, yet precisely waved his hand upwards, as if giving a command.

"I demand no less than ten to be consigned to the grave! May their blood salt this soil!"

"Yes, milord!" the prison guards yelled, saluting to him.

Several prisoners were picked out of the cohort one by one, often accompanied by yelling and struggling. Others said nothing, perhaps in silent acceptance of their fate. Elvira clasped her hands and silently prayed she wouldn't be picked.

After a short period, the singling out of prisoners ceased. Elvira breathed a sigh of relief, as did many others who would live to see another day.

"The rest of you will suffer the same fate as them. Mark my words," Cunobelinus swore, with a glare that shot fear into some prisoners' eyes. Others remained steadfast and unflinching. "And any day now, I will have the head of your leader."

"Ye won't catch 'im!" shouted a Hitmontop. "Fachtna will come back and tear yer arse a new one!"

"Ha!" Cunobelinus snorted. "Too bad he won't rescue you from your imminent demise. In fact, why not speed up that very process, hmmm?"

He gestured the prisoner to one of the prison guards - a Heracross.

"Take his head."

"Yes, milord!" the guard obliged, before accosting the disorderly prisoner. "Come on, you! Eyes forward!"

"Grr, you'll never kill our spirit!" The Hitmontop struggled against the guard's grip. "Long live Clan ap Yorath!"

"Clan ap Yorath!" A sudden cheer went up over the rows of prisoners.

"Silence!" Cunobelinus yelled. "Know your place! I will not have Alba's backward savagery infecting my people! That clan is dead and will stay dead! No amount of rally cries will ever resuscitate its dead corpse!"

The Druddigon, with his triumphant air now replaced by one of loathing, stomped away in a huff, his guards following after him. As he went, he happened to lock eyes with a certain Treecko.

Elvira shrinked back under his gaze. H-He's not looking at me, is he?

Cunobelinus stopped.

…Oh no. He is.

She fidgeted, hoping he would turn his attention to someone else. She was tempted to ask, but in fear of the wrath that could be exercised upon her for talking, she chose to stay silent.

"...You have potential to be trouble," murmured the Druddigon. "Best you be taken out of the picture sooner than later. You're no rebel to me…but you're a threat. And I cannot have that in my realm."

Without another word, the praetor turned and left. Elvira gulped at his words, while a few prisoners who had overheard the conversation stared at her in confusion, with murmurs taking place among some of them.

Elvira bit her lip. Just when she thought her nervousness had reached its nadir, it somehow had gone lower.

---

After the execution nominations had taken place, the prisoners were marched to breakfast. The canteen was crowded enough that there weren't enough seats for everyone, so the Delphox, Elvira and Osiris made do with sitting on the floor instead.

There seemed to be all kinds of prisoners locked up in here, of all different shapes, sizes, and temperaments.

A shiny Jangmo-o with chipped scales fought restlessly against his binds, but to no avail. Near to him was a Sneasler with a red scarf, though judging by him sitting on his own, he was clearly more of a lone wolf. And among the seated crowds was a brown Marowak, different from how Nikita looked, who was picking at his food in a clearly despondent manner. He looked horribly lonely; maybe he had been in a gang at some point, and had been separated from them?

The Treecko shook her head. It would only be a distraction to figure out these prisoners' life stories. She needed to focus on herself, and how to get herself out of this seemingly impenetrable prison.

But before she could ruminate on that, Tanith spoke up.

"I knew there was something interesting about you," the Delphox remarked.

"Who, me?" Elvira asked, while simultaneously trying not to gag at the prison food given to her. A cold gruel with suspicious lumps located through it that tasted like partially rotten raisins - a far cry from the well-brewed porridge that was her go-to breakfast at home. She quickly swallowed it, trying to let the tasteless, textureless slop be a thing of the past. Even the grimy food sometimes found in Dungeons beat this out any day of the week.

"No, I mean King Berglas." Tanith rolled her eyes. "Yes, of course I meant you!"

"I…" Elvira put her spoon down. She could feel both Osiris's and Tanith's gazes peering at her, and still not being overly familiar with either of them, to say she found herself discomforted by their presence would be accurate. "I'm not that special. I'm just a mercenary from Selenia. Sure, my dad might've been the famous Fernblade Kallias, but I'm not him. I'm nowhere near as great as he was back when he was still around."

A pang hit her at the reminder of her father's unknown whereabouts. She swallowed those feelings and continued.

"But I don't know why I'm here!" The sombreness of that reminder carried over into the next part of her reply. "I've never taken part in rebellion here, and I've never been to Ceredigonia in my life! I was meant to be in Alba with my partner, trying to ally with our Prince Leonid so we could take down Mitrofan together. But that went wrong, and…not long after that, I woke up here. Locked up for seemingly no reason at all…"

Her lip began to tremble.

"I want to go home. I miss Selenia."

A tear fell to the ground. Immediately Elvira found herself wishing she didn't break down to tears so easily. Yet…she couldn't deny the increasing feelings of homesickness that had sprouted recently and were now in full bloom, especially with this uncertainty about her supposedly being consigned to certain death in this prison.

She then felt a reassuring pat on her back. The big claws on the paw indicated it to be Osiris's.

"Seems like your situation isn't too different from ours," the Zoroark said.

"Just like you - locked up in here for no reason at all," Tanith piped up. "We've nothing to do with this rebellion either. We're just travellers passing through. But no, because we looked the mildest bit foreign, they claimed we were suspicious and jailed us. Not even a trial!" She threw her hands into the air. "Gods above, how corrupt can you get?!"

"Cunobelinus doesn't give the slightest shit about the specifics," growled Osiris. "He'll arrest anyone if they look even the slightest bit Alban. And then he wonders why resistance keeps piling up."

"Even the Dressie bloods don't like it," Tanith went on. "They just want peace. Don't we all? But that shithead up top's stirring the pot, and that's not making anyone happy."

"I wonder if…" A thought came to Elvira. It was Tanith's mention of 'stirring the pot' that made her wonder. "I wonder if all those prisoners who get executed…What actually happens there?"

"They get their heads chopped off. Or hung," the Delphox said. "Sometimes publicly. There's folks in the crowd who love it, and the whole town of Merionethensis comes out to see the display. …Funny how the Emperors claimed such barbarism was behind them, yet they ignore what's going on up here, in land that's technically under their jurisdiction." She breathed an annoyed sigh, small embers lashing from her lips.

"If you're wondering if the executed might still be alive, then I'm sorry to say that's a foolish hope." Osiris shook his head. "Cunobelinus has no use for them. He doesn't see anyone in here as fit to be conformed to the Dresilian way - which is what someone in his position should be doing. Instead, he finds it better to cleanse the whole lot of them. 'Purging the scum from this land', he calls it."

"That's terrible!" Elvira cried. "Even Mitrofan was never as cruel as this…"

"...Oh yeah. That tyrant of yours." An icy look had suddenly crossed Tanith's muzzle. Osiris had a similar look, and Elvira felt the mood around her turn tense.

"Is something the matter?" she asked, curious as to the sudden turn in the conversation. "Do you…know Mitrofan?"

There was silence from both of them. Tanith seemed to be looking off into the middle distance.

"...It's nothing you need concern yourself with." Osiris's eventual words sounded almost muted. Almost like he didn't want to say any more on the matter.

"...Alright," Elvira said, though she was admittedly curious as to what their sudden reluctance could mean. However, they'd been nice to her thus far, and she didn't want to upset them by prying into matters that weren't her own.

Though on the other hand, she didn't really know anything about either of them. Couldn't hurt to ask just a little bit, she thought.

"Um, so…what about you two?" Elvira asked. "Where are you from?"

"Us?" Tanith blinked. "Well, Oz and me, we're…Dresilian." The pause seemed oddly long. "We came up through here on our way to Alba, on a mission, from, er…someone." Also a weirdly long pause, which Elvira couldn't help but frown at. "On our way through here, Cunobelinus's men, along with some masked weirdo - he wore a cloak and was covered in shadows - knocked us out without warning, and next thing we know, we're in here. That was…about two weeks ago, give or take?"

"Mm." Osiris nodded. "We've tried to devise an escape plan, and even tried to put one into action, but it didn't work. If anything, all it's done is moved us further up the list to be put to death."

"Oh no…" The despair in Elvira's heart swelled all the more upon hearing their tale.

"It'll probably be any day now that we're brought forward," Tanith said. "And if you were thrown in a cell with us, I don't think you have much longer left either, to be honest."

"Th-That's…!"

"It's why I said earlier you ought to make your peace now," Osiris mentioned, clasping his chained paws together. "Because the chances of escape from here are minimal."

"But I…No…" Elvira looked at the ground, her hands trembling.

Before she could say any more, a shrill call sounded from the guards.

"Breakfast's over!" yelled the Exploud warden from before. "Back to your cells, the lot of you!"

A collective grumble sounded from the other prisoners as the guards began to marshal them back to their cells. Elvira, Osiris and Tanith got in step with the crowd, and walked in file with them.

Elvira's thoughts still didn't leave her. The thought of facing certain doom…that didn't sit well with her. Yet the words of the other two were beginning to get to her, and she found it hard to deny the inevitable reality for her.

Even so…

I can't give up. Not here, not now.

---

"Damn it!"

The annoyed cries of a Riolu sounded throughout the prison he was in. Arian had tried his absolute hardest to break free of the shackles that bound him. But he had made no progress in spite of trying for most of the night to get them off him, before eventual fatigue lulled him off to sleep. He tried again once he woke up, but no luck, and he was getting quite worked up as a result of his struggles.

He looked around him, and couldn't see anyone from where he was bound by the shackles, in the dead centre of the room. Not even a guard. It felt considerably isolated, and Arian was feeling the loneliness more than ever. Even a guard to tell him to shut up and try to stop his efforts from trying to break his shackles; that would at least be something to alleviate the boredom of this place.

Still, if there was no one in the prison ward he was in, and if he managed to get out of there while no one was around…then now was the best time to do so! Arian rattled his chains some more, trying to find a chink in them somewhere.

"I would not bother even trying, prisoner."

Drat. Still, the presence of another made his ears prick, and the Riolu wondered who could be coming to visit him.

"Heeeeyyyyy, Arian!"

…Oh no, not her. Not again.

To Arian's woes, a certain Dragonair slithered up to the cell peering at him with the same sweet eyes that felt as false as ever. Behind her trailed two new faces to Arian; a Druddigon wearing a red toga and an olive crown. Clearly he was some kind of leader, although he didn't dress like any Alban chief he'd seen thus far. One thought then occurred to him: am I even in Alba anymore?

The other new arrival was highly unusual, in that they were completely obscured by a black cloak. At their chest, a brooch was pinned - a golden emblem with two triangular ends and a crescent shape in the middle, with two points on it jutting downwards. Oddly, Arian couldn't help but feel like he had seen it somewhere before. They wore a mask over their entire face, depicting a theatre mask with a lengthways divide down it, with one half happy and the other sad. There also seemed to be a shadowy energy radiating from them which unnerved Arian all the more.

"Look at me when I am talking to you, Riolu!" The sharp admonition from the Druddigon drew Arian's attention towards Cunobelinus. "Or do you not realise that your life is in my hands? I could very well send you to the gallows if you dare disrespect me!"

"U-Understood." Arian gulped. "S-Sir."

"Hmph." Cunobelinus breathed in after his outburst, and then seemed to look Arian over. The Riolu shifted uncomfortably under the Druddigon's gaze, uneasy about being an object of examination in his eyes. He tried to gauge the praetor's emotions, but as he attempted to get in touch with his aura, he found that he couldn't sense anything.

Wh-What? Panic flashed across Arian's face. Why can't I sense his emotions? That habitual ability that he'd had ever since he woke up in Elvira's house suddenly wasn't coming to him.

"Why, those chains bind thy power, dear Riolu. 'Tis a futile exercise to mastermind an escape from them!"

The distorted voice came from the cloaked figure. It sounded completely off, as though they were using a voice changer of some kind. But how? Does this world even have that kind of tech? Arian wondered. Feeling this wasn't imperative to know right now, he shrugged it off in favour of bigger, more important questions.

"So I want to know…" Arian swallowed, plucking up the courage to ask. "Where the hell am I?"

"I see you do not know. And you would be better off without knowing," Cunobelinus dismissed. "Even the slightest knowledge is a dangerous weapon, and I will not be putting a blade in the enemy's hand."

"C'mon, Daddy," Sabrina suddenly pleaded. "It can't hurt to give him just a little bit? It's not like he can do anything like he is now."

"...Very well." Cunobelinus let out a sigh at his daughter's pleas. "You are in Merionethensis, the capital of Ceredigonia."

"Ceredigonia?" Arian's ears flattened in realisation. Wait a minute…This is that troubled region they were talking about in Alba, wasn't it?

"You are lucky in that you are not here to be killed. Rather, you are awaiting transportation to another place. That shall be arranged in the next day or so, when Praetor Dominian arrives. There are plans for you, or so he says."

"P-Plans?" Arian shrank back in fear. "Wh-What do you mean by plans?"

"...I do not know. We in Ceredigonia are but messengers in this whole affair." Cunobelinus began to turn away from him. "But I will not let down my longtime friend and ally."

"So you not only kidnapped me in Breifne, but you also set off that explosion outside the cathedral!?" Arian growled. "You could have killed a load of people coming out of church!"

"Tch. That is of no loss to me," huffed the Druddigon. "Those vicious barbarians have launched attacks upon my people countless times and killed many innocents over the years. It was past time they received at least some form of retaliation." He shook his head. "Mark my words, that attack on Alban soil will not be the last."

"You're sick!" Arian spat.

"Ha! People in this prison have called me much worse," Cunobelinus scoffed. "At least you are not guaranteed a trip to the gallows like the rest of them are. Count yourself lucky for that, Riolu."

Lucky? Arian's ears pinned back again. Doesn't sound like where I'm going is much better than death. This Dominian person…I'd bet my Guild badge that his plans might as well be death.

"Breakfast will be arranged for you shortly," Cunobelinus declared. "No doubt Dominian will want you in good health, and I will not incur his wrath. Even if affiliation with Alban curs would earn you the right to be locked up here."

He turned on his heel.

"Come, Sabrina. Malvolio. Let us away."

And the three of them were off. Sabrina gave Arian a parting sweet smile, as fake as they always had been.

Left all alone again, Arian could only speculate about the conversation he'd just had. A pit in his stomach formed as he considered the unknown possibilities of what awaited him. Worse still…all alone, with no partner to stand by his side.

Elvira…

He curled up on the floor in despair.

---

"Hmm...how curious."

Praetor Cunobelinus was in his office, with Sabrina and Malvolio accompanying him. Upon his desk, the same artist's depictions of Arian and Elvira he had received before were lying on his desk. He wouldn't have paid it any mind, for he was too focused on affairs in his own province than to care about what went on beyond the mountains on Ceredigonia's western edge where Dresilia met Alba. However, a letter had forced him to focus on the matter at hand.

Said letter was beside the portraits. The elaborate cursive upon the page spoke of a highborn origin of its writer, as did the seal imprinted on the top of the letter. Most of it was usual inter-provincial dealings, although it soon went into detail over the plan to kidnap Team Elpis.

As we speak, this Riolu and this Treecko currently seek help from that sand-dwelling Rí Trahaern, to raise an army in order to overthrow Mitrofan the Iron Tyrant. If they succeed, we could well see an Alban occupation of Selenia, which would bode ill for us all. Selenia may be full of savageous low-bloods like Alba, but there is at least some shreds of honour and dignity among their kind. If Alba infects their minds with their doctrines, then that will only lead to greater destruction that threatens our empire. You, my good friend who harbour the greatest loathing of Alba this side of the Empyrean Mountains - it would be terrible if such a thing came to pass, would it not?

Luckily, sources depict these two as naive striplings, not even evolved. Thus, spiriting them away from that wasteland would be the most proactive method to toppling Alba's ambitions. I am aware your daughter is currently on a reconnaissance mission over there, and she should prove worthy to partake in this abduction.

As well as that, I have sent you some aid, who has no doubt entrusted this letter to you. He shall assist you should your attempts to capture these two prove to fail. I must insist that Arian must be turned in alive. I care not what you do with Elvira; her importance to this is not as important as his. It should also go without saying that this is a matter of absolute secrecy, and I would demand that you mention it to no one, with the exception of your daughter and the aide I have given you.
You would do well to follow these instructions, Cunobelinus. It would be a shame if Alba's eventual war upon us would be precipitated because of your failure to act.

- Gaius Dominianus Sartorius
Praetor of Etoria

Cunobelinus frowned at the letter's ending. He'd known the sender for many years now, and was aware that he could be something of an oddity at times. Possibly even shady. Yet this tone exacted upon him…he couldn't be sure, but it almost sounded like a threat.

"Dominian…" the Druddigon muttered out loud. "What is the meaning behind this request?" Several weeks later, and he still hadn't figured it out. He intended to write a letter to the praetor once the two were dealt with, but seeing as the two yet still drew breath according to the prison guards, he had not yet penned the report.

"Why, 'tis a quiet matter, milord. They art not your affairs to pry into."

The distorted voice drew Cunobelinus's attention, and he looked up from his papers at the shadowy cloaked figure in the corner of the office. He sighed, wishing he could better tell their emotions behind his mask.

"Pardon my questioning, Malvolio," Cunobelinus inquired. "But why am I not privy to that? I am a praetor in high standing, and a good friend of Praetor Etoria. I see no reason why I cannot be informed of this."

"You spoke as thus earlier. Or is oblivion thy anchor?" Malvolio, the cloaked figure, seemed to almost tease the Druddigon with his words. "Fret not, my good fellow, for I recollect it: 'Even the slightest knowledge is a dangerous weapon.' Praetor Dominian has ken of this, and so his lips art sealed." He drew a line across his mask's mouth.

"Hmph…I dislike when the truth of matters are held from my grasp, even when it comes from an ally," grumbled Cunobelinus. "I have enough to deal with when Fachtna and the Alban bloods plot conspiracy behind my back."
"I think it's fine, Daddy," Sabrina said. "We will be rewarded handsomely though, won't we?"

"Indeed!" Malvolio seemed to burst into a cheery mood, although it was hard to tell with the distortions in his voice. "Enough gold to rival the finances of His Excellency! The wastes of Ceredigonia shalt not be barren! Gone shall the days of that dreaded status as a backwater noble upon thy shoulders, Cunobelinus! Thou shalt be th' very object of envy for every other praetor across Dresilia! Fear this task not, for you will be saved by it!"

"...Really?" Cunobelinus raised a doubtful eyebrow.

"Aye. I shalt forewarn thee, however." Malvolio raised a finger - which Cunobelinus couldn't help but think looked somewhat feathery. "Dare I hear not treacherous intentions from thy lips…for upon the second I catch wind of such words I shall forward them to Dominian. Wouldst thou betray thy most loyal friend by turning him away in his hour of need?"

"...I had no intention of doing that." The Druddigon frowned some more. "Rest assured, I will carry out this mission. Even if I would like to know Dominian's intentions for that Riolu…it cannot be helped. I know as well as anyone that a nation cannot function without its secrets."

"Your compliance is welcomed." Cunobelinus presumed a smile from behind Malvolio's mask - if he knew what lay behind it. "Thou art a good soul."

"Mm." Cunobelinus then looked back at the portrait of Arian. "...Why him, though? With the exception of his green eyes, there appeared to be nothing special about that Riolu. Yet that stripling is the cause of great trouble for Mitrofan down in Selenia?"

"The reports lie not."

"Hmmmmm." Cunobelinus clasped his hands together. "...No matter. This shall not be my business by tomorrow. Off Arian will go with you, and as for Elvira…" His stare moved to the Treecko's portrait.

"We shall send her to the gallows tomorrow. If it will shut you and Praetor Dominian up."

"Is that wise?" Sabrina's body coiled tighter. "Her father's apparently the famous Fernblade Kallias. If we kill her, there might well be backlash, especially if word gets out that we'll be killing a Selenian amongst the rebels."

"Do not fret, Sabrina," her father assuaged. "Kallias was a Selenian mercenary and by proxy a devil of ill intent - but since Selenia has fallen to savagery, I doubt there shall be any consequences in killing off that man's daughter. Remind yourself that she is an enemy of Selenia, and so they would not protest at her death. And as for our people…what they do not know will not hurt them. They will see a rebel die and they will be satisfied by it."

"If you say so, Daddy," the Dragonair murmured.

"Now then. There are reports to pen, and executions to sign off on," Cunobelinus said. "Continue your individual affairs, both of you."

"According to thy wishes, milord."

"Sure thing!" Sabrina obliged, and both her and Malvolio left the office, leaving Cunobelinus alone to ponder on these matters.

---

Leonid was well aware of how some Mystery Dungeons could prove to be a shortcut to destinations through their unusual spatial anomalies. The Empyrean Mountains contained a number of these kinds of Mystery Dungeons, and it was through one that he and Svetlana had managed to get over the notably mountainous Selenian-Dresilian border five years ago. That had been a lucky escape back then.

To his annoyance, however, Dropstone Cavern proved to not be as big a shortcut as he'd hoped. He found he had to hunker down for the night as it had been twilight when he emerged, and upon querying to a passing traveller, he found Mirionydd was still a day's travel away. So the next day he had attacked the dusty roads of the region with a brisk pace, stopping only to rest and eat.

What did not pass the Selenian prince by was the air of tension throughout any populated places he happened across. There was an active fear in the air among many villagers, and though Leonid did not interact at length with any of them - he was, after all, in a race against time - he sensed their suspicious eyes peering at him. A stranger in a strange land, he was, and that amplified their fears.

He also noticed more than one instance of destruction throughout the villages, whether it be a number of houses or a wall knocked down, and he had an inkling that damage may not necessarily have been rebel activity.

If only they remembered that enemies of enemies can become friends, he had disdainfully thought upon his travels through one of these Ceredigonian villages. But a wary neutral is better than outright hostility. He made a point of not staying too long in any one place, and even when he stopped, he was usually on his way again after a few minutes.

By evening, he had been rewarded for his efforts. Upon travelling up a road carved along a rocky hillside, he ended up on a hilltop with a commanding view over the dry, hilly land below him. A lookout fence had been built, and a small establishment that appeared to be a roadside tavern was built overlooking the view. A resting place for merchants and travellers alike, Leonid thought.

Amidst the rocky mounds below him lay a notable town which could be picked out from the lookout. It was a place Leonid had been to before, and one he wasn't looking forward to returning to.

"Mirionydd," he remarked, looking out at the large town. "Or 'Merionethensis', as the Dresilians call it."

"Stupid name," hissed R. "Trust the Dressies to bury our culture and replace it with their own."

A collective anger had spread among the Falinks, and the other five all had a mix of irritated frowns and cross complexions. Leonid sympathised with them - he felt that pain, having seen this in action for himself during his time in Ceredigion.

"Save your anger for when we arrive in town," the Selenian prince advised. "We may well have to fight when we get there, and it would be wiser to channel such energy into knocking a knight's helm into the ground."

"Understood, Your Highness," C obliged, and the other Falinks lined up in formation as they prepared to make their way back down to lower ground through a worn path through rocky hills.

As they began their journey again after a short rest, Leonid found himself struggling to take his own advice to heart. He'd heard rumours of what went on in this town, and the very words made his fists ball in disgust. Even if some of it was hyperbole, as it sometimes was in cases of conflict close to people's hearts like this, he found himself having to take breaths to conceal his anger.

This isn't your conflict, he told himself. You are here to extricate Arian and Elvira. Nothing more. The Ceredigonians' fight is their own, and let them fight it.

Yet all the same…

How could such a thing have come to pass? Surely the emperor could not be this negligent of his land and people?

---

The path to steadier ground proved to be a tricky one, veering through crevices, small gulleys, and large rocks that had yet to be ground down by the weathering that often broke down chunks of rock in the hot Alban climate. Once or twice, Leonid found himself grimacing at the dirt and grime that was accumulating across his body. He hardly looked becoming for someone that was meant to be the sole heir of one of the most powerful positions in Ardalion.

No matter. Dirt is a temporary inconvenience. It matters not when lives are on the line.

After a while of manoeuvring through the hills, they finally reached flatter land, by which time Mirionydd loomed closer. It was a fortified town - extremely so, by the looks of it, judging by the high walls with few entrances along it. Getting in would be a challenge for the average person, and as well as that, the sun was beginning to set.

"...It may be prudent to rest for the night," Leonid considered. "But time is also of the essence. We know not where Arian and Elvira are located in here, and we must find their whereabouts as soon as possible."

"I reckon I know where they might be." A grim look suddenly came over C's face. "And if they are where I think, then we'll be having a tough time trying to break in there."

"I figured it might be the case too. After all, if there's one place to hole up captives in this part of the world…" Leonid let out an annoyed sigh.

"...Then the prison in this town is the most optimal place to do it."

Worried looks came into the eyes of the other Falinks.

"There's no way we can break in there!" N's eyes were wide with panic. "If it was easy to escape from there, tons of rebels would've broken out by now!"

"That's…not good at all." W was more calm than N, but still worried. "Even before Cunobelinus took over here, that prison was an ironclad one. We never heard of any successful prison escapes there."

"It's not impossible," A considered. "But there are a lot of variables we'd have to consider. And if the rebels haven't worked out a foolproof strategy…then what hope do we have?"

"...Damnation," Leonid muttered. A part of him had been hoping throughout his excursion to Mirionydd that this wouldn't turn out to be the case. But now that he was a stone's throw from the main town of Ceredigion, this very real possibility was now revealing the shortcomings of his plans.

They're right…But if we do nothing, then my country will remain forever beyond my grasp! He looked away from Carwyn, trying to hide his feelings on the matter. What do I do…?

"Well, isn't this a sight? I never thought I'd see the likes of you crawling back here again, prionsán."

Leonid froze. That voice - he knew it well. He hadn't heard it in a while, but that snide, gruff tone had been ingrained into his memory. If he could go without hearing it for the rest of his life, then he would be a happier Bisharp.

But alas, it was not to be. The Selenian looked over and saw a huge, green dinosaurian Pokémon wearing a khaki neckerchief gazing down at him as they marched out from the treeline. The Tyranitar's footsteps were big and heavy, almost shaking the earth as they made their way towards Leonid. They were at least two feet taller than the Bisharp, and from their stance, gaze and demeanour, were imposing in almost every aspect.

Carwyn was in disarray at the sight of the Tyranitar. C was keeping a brave face, but the back half of the troop were quivering in fear while A tried but failed to keep a stoic expression and R audibly gulped. W, Y and N actively hid behind Leonid, quaking in their boots.

The prince himself wasn't scared of the Tyranitar.

In fact, he knew him - all too well.

He curled his shaking fist in rage.

"In the region I never want to return to…of course I happen across the person I never want to see again. What a displeasure it is to meet you again…

"...Fachtna Arrachtach ap Yorath."

"I see you haven't changed one bit," Fachtna huffed. "And there I was hoping your trouncing would make you reflect on your mistakes and inspire you to toughen up. But you're as reckless as you always were."

"I will not listen to you," Leonid growled. "You have made enough of a mockery of me and you were of no help to my goal of liberation. I will not waste my time on a dogmatic sadist of your sort!"

He flicked his cape and turned away, ready to get that Tyranitar out of his sight and on with his mission. His turmoil with Fachtna was in the past, and that was where he wanted to leave it. A regretful chapter he'd since closed the book on, one that if he wished hard enough, he could simply forget–

"Well, if you want to be captured by Mirionydd's guards, then be my guest. It's your funeral, after all - because mark my words, they will kill you."

Leonid stopped.

"...I beg your pardon?"

Fachtna only sighed and shook his head.

"The push in rebel activity has the whole tír on edge, and that dandy in his ivory tower has used that as an excuse to lock up anyone even a wee bit shady. Did you come here not even knowing that much, prionsán?"

"Please stop calling me that," Leonid hissed. To be called prionsán dredged up gruelling memories that he wanted to keep buried.

"I will not." Alas, the prince would not receive sympathy from the Tyranitar. "I don't respect the weak."

"...You have not changed one iota from when I saw you last." Leonid's tone remained caustic. "How disappointing."

"Tch. You're as much of a waste of breath as you've always been," Fachtna growled. "I hope you never get that crown back."

"Are you going to stand out here in the middle of the road hurling insults at me?" After saying this, a thought suddenly came to Leonid for how to shake the Tyranitar off him. "Out here in the open, in the shadow of Mirionydd itself? It would not do if the leader of Ceredigion's rebels were captured and sent to certain death, now would it?"

"Ha! The knights don't patrol this part outside Mirionydd," scoffed Fachtna. "You think I don't know the lay of the land? This is my home turf, prionsán!"

Damnation. His bluff didn't work. That, then, left an option that was far from appealing in Leonid's eyes. But given that this excursion was already something he had little say in…

…Why must the most optimal choices be the most humiliating? He sighed, before giving his reluctant plea.

"I…would like to ask a favour."

Fachtna raised an eyebrow.

"Do a favour for you?" Fachtna chortled in disbelief. "You eat something funny or what?"

"...I need to get into Mirionydd." Leonid was tempted to snap back at the Tyranitar's latest insult, but held his tongue. "Two of my citizens have been kidnapped, and we think they may have been locked up in its prison. And I am well aware of that prison's near ironclad security, as well as its bloody gallows in which many of your rebels have been slain."

"Two Sels, eh?"

"Yes, indeed. And if I do not act now, they will be killed by Cunobelinus's forces. That is why…" Leonid drew in breath. "...I would like your assistance in breaking me into Mirionydd. You know it better than I do, and you must be aware of the town's foibles and hidden passages. You, too, are well-aware of the iron grip Cunobelinus has over Ceredigion. Time is of the essence, and if I do not rescue my two comrades…then my realm will remain beyond my reach forever. Moreover, supposedly the fate of Ardalion will be at stake too."

"Fate? Oh gods almighty." Fachtna rolled his eyes. "That kirkie in Breff put you to this, did they?"

"They did." Leonid gritted his teeth, at another shred of credibility stripped from him. "But if what they say is true, then even you will be affected. You and all the rebels under your command, this great struggle to which you have committed your lives too…all that will be for naught if the two I mentioned are killed."

Fachtna's look of disinterest wavered somewhat at the mention of his struggle. Leonid prayed within him that this could be the avenue by which he could get through to the Tyranitar.

"...Do you actually believe the seanmóirí that Archdruid Cathbad preaches, prionsán?" Fachtna queried. His tone was a disbelieving, questioning one.

"...I do not know." Even when pushed, Leonid still found himself suspicious of the Absol. "But they seemed wholly serious about this. And if they are correct, I…I would not want to doom Selenia and my people. If it will be forsaken because I failed to act…then I know such a thing would weigh on me like a noose until my burial."

His eye contact with Fachtna drifted slightly, but he focused again when he posed the next question.

"And that's why…I need your help, Fachtna. Can you…help me get into Mirionydd?"

It pained him to be bearing his soul to him of all people. The Tyranitar who'd put him through a brutal training regime under which he suffered regular humiliation by his fellow trainees. The Tyranitar who had clearly had it out for him, and who spoke to him the harshest. Sure, he had become a Bisharp under Fachtna's tutelage, but for all the phantom pains that wracked him daily around the time he evolved, it was not something he remembered with fondness.

Even now, he could still recall the shouts and yells.

"Put your back into it, prionsán! Is that really all you can lift?!"

"As expected of a prionsán who never left his castle! Bairns half your age would be tougher than you!

"If the Sels saw you now, they'd see a failed prince! Now move it! A hundred more reps!"

He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, trying to shove such memories back to the recesses of his mind. Maybe one day he'd be able to forget it all.

"...You're a lucky one, prionsán." Leonid's attention snapped back to Fachtna. "If I had many options, I would leave you in the dust. But I have to take what I can get. …Even if it means getting your princely britches involved in this."

"...So you'll help?"

Fachtna didn't answer him, instead turning and beckoning his hand to Leonid.

"Come here. Off the road."

He began to retreat back among the rocks. Leonid followed after him, and Carwyn loyally followed in the prince's footsteps.

They made their way through a side path entangled with uneven steps and not a whole lot of tree cover. Leonid was subconscious of being caught, and was amazed that Fachtna didn't seem to be giving any kind of mind towards keeping a low profile. Given the Tyranitar's sheer size and girth, he hardly looked to be the stealthy type. And yet to think this 'mon was right under the noses of his enemies, creeping about in the foothills of Mirionydd…if he still remained uncaptured, then there had to be some skill about it all. That, or Cunobelinus's knights were incompetent to not notice he was there the whole time.

It is also twilight. That could have to do with it.

Eventually, they arrived at a spot where a big boulder lay, around where there was some cover by a number of trees and bushland. The boulder in question was massive, and would certainly require a few 'mons around Leonid's size to pick it up.

Or so the prince thought. Fachtna leant down and picked the whole boulder up all by himself before tossing it to the side. The show of strength from the Tyranitar earned a pair of yelps from Y and N.

But under the boulder revealed a passageway. Looking down, Leonid realised the amount of tracks indicated there had been a fair amount of footfall, meaning only one thing.

"Your hideout…"

"Aye, indeed. Get in."

Fachtna moved his way in, with Leonid following after him into the tunnel.

---

It was a dusty, dirty tunnel propped up by timbers, not too unlike how a mine shaft might be. Leonid grimaced at the dirt that was accumulating on his cape, rendering it even shabbier than it had been before. He grabbed the end of it, fearing it might catch on something. At least the tunnel was quite wide, to account for someone as huge as Fachtna.

They eventually reached a wider area, where various other 'mons wearing the same khaki scarves and cloaks that Fachtna wore milled around. Leonid could feel the eyes on him as he followed Fachtna.

"Follow me, prionsán!" The Tyranitar's words boomed around the tunnel, making nearby rebels jump and stand to attention. Leonid spotted the reverence and respect in their eyes as they saluted their leader.

That awe soon gave way to leers of suspicion as Leonid felt their gazes on him. He sighed, knowing he could hardly win with a band of rebels.

Fachtna opened a door to what appeared to be his office. Leonid and Carwyn followed him in.

"So," the Tyranitar began, once he shut the door behind them. "I wouldn't normally care to rope a meatachán like you into this whole affair. But I'll admit that I, like you, am in a race against time."

"Oh?" Leonid murmured. "Do tell."

"Cunobelinus has been increasing his execution rate lately and that's doing away with my locked up forces, not to mention a bunch of innocent Alban bloods who barely have anything to do with the rebellion." A snarl crossed Fachtna's face. "If we don't stop this right now, then Alban claims in Ceredigion will be wiped out entirely and all that'll be left are the Dressie invaders who don't belong here. He's engaging a campaign of annihilation against my people and he won't stop until the Albans in this tír are all wiped out."

"All wiped out?" Leonid questioned. "That is surely bloody and inefficient. From his point of view, it would make far more sense to try and convert the Albans to Dresilian customs, no?"

"Ha! The planet'll be paralysed before we get a praetor that'll do that," scoffed Fachtna. "No. They're a lost cause, the lot of them. When Clan ap Yorath rises again, the Dressies better start praying."

"Pardon my interruption, but what does this have to do with me?" Leonid said. "What do you need me for?"

"I have a bit of a task that needs doing. But since you're here, prionsán…" The Tyranitar clasped his hands as a grin grew on his face. "You'd make for a…compelling addition to what we have planned tomorrow."

"You have plans, do you?" Leonid put his hand to his chin. "What are they?"

"Well, you see, the prison isn't staffed with loyal guards. There's some lots among the guards that are actually our lot who've been feeding us info. Some who see what we're fightin' for and want in. Good on 'em." Fachtna briefly smiled with satisfaction. "Anyhow, tomorrow will be remembered as a day for the history books for the two main events I have planned."

"And those would be…?"

Fachtna's toothy grin could be described as almost sinister.

"The assassination of Cunobelinus, along with the obliteration of that prison. We're gonna blow that place sky-high!"

He paused to take out a piece of parchment and lay it out on the table. It was a simple crude sketch, depicting one very simple scene.

An explosion at the side of a tall square building.

Leonid got the immediate picture, and his doubtful frown told it all.

"You plan to blow a hole in it?"

"Aye, prionsán." The Tyranitar seemed quite smug.

"...I do not anticipate success from such a crude plan." Leonid shook his head. "Do you really think the forces of Cunobelinus will not notice such a blast? In case you were not aware, explosions are not exactly what one would call 'quiet'."

"Alright then, do you have something else?" Fachtna immediately countered, his grin turning to a frown. "I'd hear even your whingin' arse out this time."

"...W-Well." The excuses died at Leonid's lips. "I…do not."

"Then shut that mouth of yours." The Tyranitar's glare could paralyse the most weak-willed. But Leonid was determined to hold his ground.

"You still have not explained how you intend to involve me in this farcical plan of yours," the Bisharp said, crossing his arms.

"Your head rustin', prionsán?" Fachtna quipped. "I said there were two events. The prison escape's only one part. The other's offing that bag of scales. You're gonna help us by being a bit of a lure for him."

"...For a moment, I almost thought you were demanding I kill him." Leonid frowned.

"Clear out your ears, prionsán!" The Tyranitar looked offended by the suggestion. "After all this time we've been fighting to free our nation from the Dressies, to hand that kill over to a Sel would be betrayal of the highest order! You better keep your blades to yourself, because that rotter is mine!" He slammed his fist against the table in fury, throwing everything on it into disarray. Leonid was only surprised Fachtna didn't punch a hole in it, given his size and strength.

"I had no intention of sullying my blades with his blood. Calm yourself." Leonid had to also tell that to himself, to prevent his temper from flying free. That could scupper things with Fachtna entirely. "I will do as you request. But in return, I demand you bring both Riolu Arian and Treecko Elvira to me."

"That can be arranged." Fachtna then reached for a piece of parchment that had fallen to the floor. "Says here from our mole that there is a Treecko among our prisoners. …No mention of a Riolu, though."

"No Riolu, you say?" Worry sprung in Leonid's heart. "Not even one?"

"Not one. And this mole doesn't miss a trick." Fachtna shrugged. "Maybe your mutt's being held somewhere else."

Another question came to Leonid. Though his main objective was rescuing Team Elpis, the face of a certain other in dire straits came to him.

"...Have you spotted a Mienshao anywhere among them?"

"Mienshao, eh?" Fachtna thought for a moment. "It's yer missus, isn't it?"

"...Yes." A lame confession. "Is she…still here?"

The Tyranitar stared at him, his stare a mixture of confusion and amusement. Yet in there, Leonid could detect the faintest trace of…sympathy?

"...She isn't. She'd have stuck out like a Gholdengo among my lot anyway."

"...I see." Leonid looked down and balled his fists. "As if I needed more obstructions."

"Well, you're locked in now, prionsán. Oh, and you'd better not go back on your word." A dark, hinting glare shone in Fachtna's eyes. "If you do…let's just say the Sels won't have that hero's dynasty they love so much."

"Is that a threat?" Leonid returned his own glare.

"What do you think it is? Even your tinhead should be able to know that much."

The Bisharp sighed in annoyance. Already not wanting to be here, throwing his lot in with rebels of killing intent, and now finding out he may have to look beyond this rebellion-torn town, it was hard for him to be any more reluctant than he already was. But whether he liked it or not, he was locked into this decision.

"...You have nothing to worry about," he eventually said. "I have no intention of betrayal. I have had enough of that in my life already."

"Good. Now then, outta here." Fachtna pointed to the door. "I have plans to draw up for you tomorrow. Brigid'll help you to your room. You'd better rest, because I don't tolerate late sleepers."

"...Thank you for your time, Fachtna." Not needing to be told again, Leonid left the office, with Carwyn in tow. The door shut with a resounding thud behind him.

---

Notes

The shiny Jangmo-o is a reference to Morgan, one of the main characters of Turkeyuwu's PMD: Royal Replacement. The red-scarved Sneasler is a reference to Fawkes from Navar's PMD: Heroic Dreamers. The Ground-type Marowak is a reference to Alvin from Spiteful Murkrow's Once a Thief. All have the common trait of being apprehended and imprisoned at some point in their respective stories, so I figured I'd ingrain that a little into the current prison setting, while also giving shout-outs to some of my PMD writer friends. ^^

Glossary

Prionsán - Irish approximation of a diminutive way to say 'prince'.

Seanmóirí - Irish for 'sermons', in the sense of long, drawn-out discourse.

Meatachán - Irish for 'coward, craven'.