Chapter X: Entropy
Shadow of Antioch
Viaggiatore
Chapter X: Entropy
"…And so the gods came, from beyond the stars, to assist us petty creature in our ascension to greatness. The Crown embraced Her divine role in leading this Empire in Their name, under Their aegis; and the Republic was no more."
— Excerpt from the book "Our Benefactors", written by Imperial Scribe Eli Kadabra.
Flame felt wonderful.
Albeit a mass of clouds obfuscated the morning sky, leaving the whole camp in a shade of penumbra, it strangely did not impact his mood in the slightest. He walked outside the barracks alongside his squadmates, smelling fresh dew and pokémon sweat through his nostrils. For what was possibly the first time in his life, the entirety of his body felt pleasantly untense; no knots tying his stomach, no dull aches in his head.
His enlarged tail fire seemed to agree, too.
"Are you sure that will be enough?" Alice asked as they departed their tent, dodging incoming officers scrambling to take a job for the day. The three of them had already agreed to do so after rush hour.
Gaius rummaged through his bag's contents one last time. "Looks like it. This is basically all the equipment we have, anyway."
"And what about the money? Remember our 'special' breakfast?"
Gaius rolled his eyes. "Ugh, don't worry, I remember. I honestly have zero clue what we'd buy, though."
Flame put a claw to his chin, humming aloud. "Good question. Definitely no berries. If I see another one of those, I'm going to vomit. Never tried fish, though."
"Fish? For breakfast?" Alice grinned, "You, sir, have some mighty fine tastes. Too bad a single Magikarp costs enough to bleed us dry."
He let out half a frown. "Well, there must be something we can afford that isn't leftovers."
"Eh, let's just buy some fresh bread," Gaius shrugged, "No need to go crazy on spending."
Flame's mind threw around some options, yet he didn't know what could be considered finesse in this town. "I guess, but that's a bit simple on its own. How about … I don't know, cheese?"
"Cheese…" Alice repeated, as if testing the suggestion with her own lips, "That's perfect! If we take the thinnest slice possible, we could probably afford three."
From the corner of his eye, he saw Gaius' face contort into a grimace.
"Fine. We're splitting the loaves, then," the Grovyle said, "I'm not throwing away more than eight thousand poké on this."
Soon, they ventured out of Camp Tempest and into the vague, brown-coloured slums to the south and west of it. Flanking them were little three-storey houses with battered doorways—perhaps a quarter of the windows in the street were smashed or missing. He was amazed at how one could bare to live in such crumbling rat-holes—insulae, he recalled Alice saying. Yet the proles did so without complaint. Up and down the street, and through a particular doorway, a group of Riolu cubs laughed and giggled hysterically as they chased after one another, only to scatter at angry yells from their mothers.
The younglings paid no attention to Team Phalanx; most adults passing by eyed them with a sort of guarded contempt. Flame figured it must have been the badges pinned on their bags attracting so much scrutiny.
He strode forward wordlessly.
At one point, Gaius ordered them to take a shortcut down a dark alleyway—one of the only few not overflowing with rubbish. Once he saw Gaius keen on counting the coins in his bag, a thought streamed out of his mouth of its own accord.
"Uh, do you just … keep it all in there? The money, I mean."
After twisting his head round, to make sure there was no prole overhearing them, Gaius strapped his bag tighter, and turned to him.
"Of course not. What did you take me for, a fool?" Gaius said in a near-whisper, "I stash it all in a hole that's under my bed."
Upon hearing those words, Flame raised an eyebrow. "O-oh, okay. It doesn't make me feel any safer, to be honest. How can you be sure it'll stay there?"
Alice offered him a meek, sheepish grin. "Well, no one has found out yet, so I'd say our chances are good."
Flame rubbed the back of his head pensively. "But isn't there a bank, or someplace like that we could use?"
"Geez, you must be thinking we have public thermae up North too," Gaius snickered, though no traces of malice were present in his voice, "There used to be one a couple years back. The interest rates were really wicked though, so eventually it just closed down for a lack of clients."
"Huh. Strange," Flame muttered, "I wonder if others had our same idea."
Gaius looked behind them to make sure nobody was listening in. "Actually, I heard other officers have started digging secret stashes outside of town. Who knows, we could always go on a treasure hunt."
While Flame reflected on the hidden implications of that statement, the alleyway ended abruptly, and the three of them emerged into the town's market square. Vending stalls seemed to pop up all over, consisting of mere wooden poles holding up ragged cloths, atop which bird pokémon perched on and took off. The whole square was in commotion. Crowds numbering in the dozens stood huddled around a few stalls: there were yells of anger from all sides, and he noticed more than one physical confrontation developing to his right.
…Is this normal? Flame could not help but ask himself. It didn't seem too far-fetched to be normality, yet something felt particularly off today. An air of discontent and mistrust, a pungent smell shooting up his nostrils—just like those glares they'd received beforehand.
His teammates' faces suggested that they felt uneasy just like him. Yet he followed them regardless through a less dense section of the market, eyes skirting over every object on sale. Amongst the few items visible behind the infesting proles were foodstuffs, like bread and fruit and berries, but also fortune amulets, claws, horns, small mementos with no apparent value.
It took a surprising amount of time to shove and charge their way through the suffocating mass pressing from all directions, before they finally took a breather in an empty corner behind the cobalt roof cover of one particular stall.
As he panted, Flame took one end of the cloth and wiped his forearm clean of all the sweat and grime he'd collected from colliding passersby.
"What in Mew's name is happening here?" Alice took a relieved breath, "I've never seen this much of a ruckus before—it's like they weren't even paying attention."
Gaius took the bag off his shoulders, opened it and rummaged inside."If you ask me, either Ariel increased the prices, or some item went out of stock."
The Grovyle fished a handful of coins from his bag—about five or seven—and dropped them into Flame's palm.
"Here you go. Shouldn't take more than five thousand," Gaius said, strapping his bag tightly round his shoulder, "Go buy that cheese now, it's right here. The two of us will go see if there's any bread left."
With that, his teammates departed for another direction, disappearing into the thick crowd within mere instants.
Flame just stood there, collecting his thoughts, shifting the coins in his own paw. He clasped his claws round them tightly: with no bag to hold them in, all it would take was a quick push from behind, and they'd slip out of his grasp.
Fair enough, Flame nodded to himself, breathing in, This shouldn't be too difficult. Hopefully I won't have to wait in line.
Taking great care to avoid making contact with passing pokémon, he walked round the other side of the stall. Indeed, there was no line there. He'd be able to get this over with right away.
He rested his arms from the elbow down on the wooden counter separating the various wares. Then, he raised his eyes to take a gander at the vendor. A most peculiar sight befell his eyes: it was a bipedal, blue-scaled behemoth, with orange gills jutting out of its cheeks and two black fins acting as crests of sorts.
The Swampert stood still for a few seconds, eyes lost into nothingness before peering its eyes down at the new arrival. It didn't even greet him; only grunted in a minimal form of acknowledgement.
Flame scanned his eyes across the wares in front of him, feeling a slight pressure from being observed while doing so. On the counter there were neatly aligned crates of fish, clams, wheels of cheese, slabs of meat bathed in salt, and some items he could not identify but whose colour satisfied the eye. Right after he was done inspecting, his attention darted back to the cheese. It was a half-way between yellow and orange, looking surprisingly pristine—especially considering what his taste buds were accustomed to. Had it been realistically possible, he would have devoured everything with a mere look.
"This one," said Flame, pointing with a claw, "How much is a slice?"
"Thirty-thousand poké," the vendor said.
Flame hoped he'd misheard that number. "What? T-that's preposterous! Maybe you didn't understand; I asked for the—"
"Miltank cheese. It's thirty-thousand. Take or leave."
For a couple of seconds, Flame was left with his maw hanging open much like a buffoon. No, he couldn't possibly afford that. There must have been a misunderstanding somewhere along the way. Had Gaius underestimated the price? Yet there was a substantial difference between eight thousand poké and more than thrice that amount; his leader's memory could not have been so grossly wrong.
"E-even the smallest slice?" Flame asked breathlessly.
"I'm not making discounts," the Swampert vendor repeated, as he set his three-digit paw on the counter. Those eyes were looking down at him, simultaneously puzzled and irritated at such obstinate persistence.
Biting his lower lip, Flame crossed his arms together. Right then, he decided that he would not walk away empty-handed from the stall. "I was told it costs less here. What the hell happened to cheese being eight-thousand?"
"You must have not gotten the memo, kid. Rules are rules. And if that bitch says prices go up, prices go up."
Feeling a nerve twitch in his neck, Flame grit his teeth and slammed his own paws on the counter. "I'm not leaving. The most I can give you is ten-thousand."
"Don't have the money?" the vendor hissed and hunched his face forward to meet his, "Stop wasting my time, then."
Alas, it was a lost cause. Flame had to restrain a sudden impulse to impale those white, fleshy orbs with his claws—yes, it would shut him up nicely. But he abandoned the idea immediately; the Swampert stood at almost twice his height, and would surely wash him away in any real fight.
For perhaps five seconds resentment made him careless, and he stepped away from the stall without so much as a preliminary glance to the crowd. However, something halted him just beside the stall, out of view from its owner. Breathing in furiously to stop himself from shaking, he clenched the coins in his fist further.
Perhaps he ought to relax. To any sane individual, getting so worked up over such trivial happening might have been considered deeply unhealthy. Perhaps it was. Yet, Team Phalanx deserved at least one day of comfort and tasty food!
Calm. Calm. There must be other stalls selling cheese, he twisted his head around. Nothing. Each stall attracted a crowd so dense as to block any view of its products, much less encourage him to stand in line.
Then it dawned on him: he did not have to necessarily pay for the cheese. After all, he'd come here well-intentioned, and if the vendor refused to be reasonable, then nothing would stop him from obtaining his goal via other means. A small portion of his mind attempted to call out the folly in stealing, but much of his psyche disagreed.
Alice and Gaius do this all the time, it can't be that bad, he thought.
Suppressing his breath, he approached the cyan-tinted stall again. Now a pair of pokémon approached the Swampert's stand—two Flygon. Perhaps Imperial Army officers, like Alice had mentioned. They asked for something.
In truth, he did not quite hear; his thumping heartbeat masked their exact words. The verbal exchange continued for a good ten seconds. At some point, one of them would surely turn and notice him staring eerily for—oh!
This was it: the Swampert turned round, leaned down, probably to sift through a crate's contents. Hastily Flame's eyes glossed over each ware; the fish looked tempting, but time did not favour his cause. He'd settle for those slices of already cut cheese lying nearby.
It was spontaneous; for a moment he lost his inhibition. He snatched the items and ran.
Exaltation boosted his legs as he missiled through the crowd with astonishing efficiency. He could not ascertain whether someone had shouted 'thief' from behind him just now, nor how many slices of cheese he was carrying in all. No mental energy could be diverted from pushing obstructing pokémon out of his path to gain however much distance possible from the Swampert.
When Flame reached the opposite side of the square and could run no further, he quickly identified which small alley they'd entered from, slipping inside its shadows. Resting his back to the wall, he panted heavily. A dumb grin remained plastered on his face. He looked down at both his paws: one still squeezed that small amount of money securely, while two pieces of slightly-shredded cheese lay in his other palm.
Hopefully neither Alice nor Gaius would complain about unwashed paws, he hoped.
Wow, and to think I told myself that I'd never stoop to this level… Flame let out a bittersweet frown. It did not make much sense, to feel ashamed for wanting to help. Whichever way he acted was acceptable, he tried to convince himself, so long as it brought joy to his teammates' faces. Indeed, was not that his final purpose?
Perhaps his friends would eye him wearily for such distasteful tactics—most certainly Alice.
I just hope prices haven't risen for everything. That merchant said it's Ariel who gets to decide. Why would she change things overnight? Why now?
If prices had skyrocketed amongst all goods, and not just luxuries—Flame dared not entertain the thought—then the fifty-thousand poké they'd so proudly collected would suddenly amount to naught. A loaf of bread, berry-scented at most. All in the blink of an eye!
Flame blinked out of his thoughts as he noticed two familiar figures worm through the crowd. He caught their attention by waving and shouting their names, after which they reached him in the alleyway.
The look on their faces did not inspire confidence.
"How did it go?" he asked, perhaps a tiny bit rhetorically.
"Horribly," Alice spoke up, mumbling, "We looked in three different stalls, and every merchant we came across was absolutely mental. Eleven-thousand poké? What did you stuff the bread with, gold bars? I only saw ants inside!"
The Dragonair's voice was frustrated and seething with bitterness.
"Oh," Flame frowned, "So they raised the price of bread, too?"
Alice gazed back to the visual and auditory mess coming from the market square. "Yes, and the whole square is in upheaval about it. I think someone even stepped on my tail. Ouch," she rubbed its tip against her body.
"But did you buy anything in the end?" Flame asked.
"Just a single loaf. Maybe it costs too much, but…" she paused momentarily, looking downwards, "I simply can't be bothered to scavenge again. Just this once."
Gaius, who had stood and listened quietly, shifted his gaze to the Charmeleon's hands.
"Uh, I see you actually bought what we asked for," Gaius pointed with a claw, eyebrows raised, "How … how did you manage to get the money? Didn't we give you too little?"
"W-well, I … didn't exactly pay for it," Flame said, accompanied by a meek chuckle.
For a few moments, Alice stared right into his eyes, silent. He definitely saw surprise in them, but couldn't quite discern which type.
"… Oh. I-I guess that explains the shouts I heard from where we left you."
The tone charging her voice caused his heart to droop in a corner.
"Look, I'm sorry," Flame bit his lower lip, eyes cast downwards, "But there was no other way for me to buy it regularly. I just didn't want us to have come here for nothing."
"Nonono, don't get me wrong," Alice forced another smile to reassure him, "Me and Gaius have to do it every now and then as well. Simply put it, I dislike stealing from others. It's nothing against you."
"Come on, don't listen to her," Gaius chuckled, amused, delivering a mock punch to his shoulder, "You did good. Man, what happened to you? If you keep surprising me like this, I might just start tolerating your presence."
Flame chuckled along half-heartedly, hoping to sweep his less-than-moral methods out of his friends' thoughts.
"How about we get away for now?" he said, throwing a brief glance towards the market square, "I doubt that merchant's going to look for us in this mess, but I'd rather not take the risk."
Motioning his teammates forth with a paw, Flame retreated down the alleyway, back in the direction of Camp Tempest.
Albeit they'd technically obtained what they came here for, the atmosphere around Team Phalanx was one of palpable uneasiness.
"So much for the team base," Alice sighed and looked away, as she dodged a passing Rattata, "Guess we're back to eating berries every day. Again…"
Flame could not help but flinch, both mentally and physically. There was an underlying melancholy in her voice that almost made him want to hug her to make her feel better. Stroke those fluffy head wings, he pictured in his head. But would it be seen as demeaning?
"Hey…" he said, laying a claw on the back of her neck, "Look at the bright side. At least we can eat decently, even if it's just this once."
While admittedly he hadn't said much, it seemed enough to lift a small smile back on her face.
The Dragonair turned to him, visibly regaining her composure. "You're right. It's no use whining like this. It's been ages since I've had cheese—I should be grateful, if anything."
Flame felt a small twinge of pride reverberate through his body—a mental sigh of relief. Even though he was powerless to do anything about the prices, he felt it was his duty in a way to keep morale high nonetheless. A short moment of silence ensued as the three of them exited the greasy alleyway and backtracked through the similarly unkempt slums from before. A part of him wondered why Gaius did not wish to commence eating at once; then he remembered that proles would not hesitate jump at them like insects at the naked sight of fresh bread.
Soon enough, after no more dilapidated insulae followed, and the cacophony of strident voices ebbed away, the same upward slope walked so many times to and fro Camp Tempest appeared. The encampment's lone guard tower loomed against swirling, tar-black clouds. He thought he spotted its guard kindle a torch to ward off the cumulating shadows.
It was then that Gaius spoke up.
"Anybody wanna eat?"
Gleeful approval came from Alice without delay.
Although Flame shared a certain kind of anticipation, he waited a second before speaking. "Out here? What if it rains?"
Gaius shrugged, wandering over to a patch of roadside grass. "Then we get wet. Cover the bread, if need be."
"Yeah, easy for you to say..." Flame huffed, paw instinctively clutching his tail tip. Nevertheless the Grovyle immediately detected a certain lack of resistance.
"I've heard of Charmanders who learnt to swim right out the egg," said Gaius, plopping himself down, "Don't tell me a few drops are too much to bear."
When no objection followed, Gaius took it as a green light. Their leader grabbed a lonely loaf of bread—around the length of his forearm—and carefully brought his leaf blade down akin to a guillotine. It broke into two rough halves, causing a shower of crumbs to scatter all over.
Flame nodded courteously as he was handed one half. He gazed down with perhaps too much zeal. It looked so much purer, so much softer than what his teeth were accustomed to!
The Grovyle dug the twin slices of cheese out of his bag; gingerly he slashed the fresh bread open —without spilling too many crumbs, for each was precious—and inserted one of the two pieces of cheese inside.
At once, Flame's own piece received similar treatment, and now, the bread stood firmly within his grip, flaps of cheese dangling from the sides, his mouth salivating involuntarily. Neither of the two items emitted much of a scent, but he figured it was already an improvement over the stench that had slowly become normal for him.
Had it been good custom, he would have gladly begun licking the individual breadcrumbs scattered on his claws.
Just when his jaws nearly clamped down on his meal, the expression on Alice's face stopped him mid-act.
"What's wrong?" Flame raised a bemused eyebrow.
That question answered itself wordlessly when he noticed that she held no meal in her tail's end. The Dragonair did not speak, though her features revealed a tiny bit of annoyance.
That might be a problem, he thought, alternating looks between his piece of bread and the one in Gaius' paws. The Grovyle sank his teeth into his, wholly concentrated, only noticing the dilemma after a second bite.
"Uh-oh. There's only two slices. Plus two pieces of bread," Gaius uttered while chewing, careful not to spit anything, "Looks like someone'll have to eat less."
A momentary silence cloaked all three of them. They exchanged looks with one another, but nobody seemed to gather the will to volunteer.
Ah, just what we needed…Flame cursed mentally. His claws seemed to dig further into the hardy crust for a few seconds. A bit of it was chipped off. Biting his lip, he exhaled audibly, and extended his half-loaf in Alice's direction.
"Take it," he said, "I can wait until dinner."
The cobalt-scaled dragon proceeded to eye him as one would eye a lunatic. "Surely you are joking? Don't be ridiculous—we can divide it up again."
"But it's already quite small," Flame insisted, "I-I can't possibly make you eat so little. Take it," he extended the bread in her direction again.
Alice held her tail up in a blocking motion. "No, no, split it. I insist."
"Really, I'm not that hungry right—"
"Flame, I refuse to eat that other half. Throw it away, if you truly want."
He knew that there could be no further negotiating. Although he'd be shirking his portion, on the other hand, he smiled. So, the already smaller half-loaf was split once again, and he handed Alice her rightful piece.
"Guess it won't be me," Gaius shrugged with a grin, and tore another chunk out of his meal.
Resting his rear against the tickly grass stalks, Flame shifted his attention to his now-diminished nourishment in his hands. In a few minutes, it had gone from looking enough to satiate him throughout the day to just enough to fit in his paws.
I'm in no real position to complain, am I? he shrugged mentally, and gave his rations a tentative nib.
Right away, the sweet, dominant flavour of cheese inundated his taste buds—nearly drowning out everything else. Salty yet one could feel the faint trace of oil and butter. The only reason his brain hadn't completely forgotten about the bread was its crust; as crunchy as a biscuit, so brittle that it cracked audibly when he pressed down with his teeth. Entire grains of it fell to the ground with each gnaw.
Mid-way through chewing, he dedicated a few seconds to throw a glance at his friends. Both had only taken minute bites out of their meal, likely to savour every grain. And—
Flame's heart jumped so much that, for a fleeting moment, he forgot about his hunger. It was the first time he'd seen sparkles in their eyes. Their usual demeanour seeped with traces of calm: eagerness behind each bite, Alice's tail swinging back and forth unconsciously, both within metres of him. The sight enthralled his eyes. He'd certainly seen what struggles Team Phalanx experienced daily, heard of years and years spent under even more austere conditions.
Yet, here they all were, sitting merrily by the roadside. Happy. Even as the first raindrops splattered against his back, he smiled.
Thunder boomed somewhere far-off, causing Flame to jerk in place out of instinct. Rain still pelted his back. Once he sneaked a look to the side to make certain none of his teammates saw, he kept his neck arced downwards, paws cradling his fiery tail tip.
At first it had only been a slow shower, but by the time they had reached Camp Tempest proper, it had settled into a ceaseless rhythm.
Whose idea was it to put a bulletin board under the god-forsaken rain? Flame struggled to hold back a grimace, his throat starting to tighten.
"Can't you bring those fliers inside?" Alice raised her voice, "If it pours down any heavier, I think Flame's going to pass out. And I'm not exactly enjoying myself, either."
"Almost done," Gaius mumbled back, oblivious to their discomfort. When they arrived, there were a mere seven fliers left affixed; and the Grovyle insisted upon reading each one, back hunched forward to act as a roof of sorts.
Flame did not find the energy to voice his discomfort. Whereas other pokémon might have found raindrops to be minor annoyances—water-types enjoyed them, those wretched beasts—he likened the experience closer to painful chunks of ice. No, pinpricks; that's what they were, tiny pinpricks leaking cold through to his bones.
"So? What is it?" Alice said, forwarding a hint of impatience.
Gaius straightened his back, letting the various fliers get pummeled by rainwater, becoming soaked within seconds.
"Nothing," Gaius said plainly, "Absolutely nothing. 'Rebuild collapsed bridge'; 'interrogate suspected reactionaries'; 'reinforce the Fifth Legion in Colonia Basilea', and so on. One would involve travelling half-way across the province, and the other is out of our league."
"And?" Alice pressed on, "The bridge assignments sounds feasible to me. Besides, you can't possibly make me believe that there is not a single everyday rescue mission."
Gaius suddenly lifted his foot and kicked a small pile of dirt onto the damp flyers.
"Problem is," Gaius hissed, clenching his fists, "The payout is worthless. Fifteen-thousand poké? Sweat and grime for an entire day to earn nothing?!"
"… So what do we do now?" Alice alternated looks between her teammates, her scales—Flame noted—almost gleamy because of the rain.
Gaius cupped his face in his paws, then exhaled audibly. "I swear, if I see that lizard bitch I'll slit her throat out. Either that, or the proles will do it. Hope they burn down her villa, too."
Flame had not opened mouth (it wouldn't have been right, to complain), yet it was becoming increasingly difficult not to openly yell at his leader's face.
"… Gaius?" he said, amazed at how feeble his voice sounded right then.
Thankfully, Alice seemed to take notice of his plight. Another thunder crackled in the distance, this one just a tad fainter.
"We can call this off, if you want," Alice told him, a little disappointed, "Stay home for the day. But, first of all, let's get out of this god-forsaken rain."
Flame could only oblige, and trail his teammates to the nearest roofed building, which, despite being a few hundred metres off, still demanded that they step through a lagoon of mud. He grimaced in the process, the gooey substance latching onto his feet and between his toes, only to notice that Alice had it even worse than him. Because of her serpentine body, more of her underside became coated with the filth. He told her not to fret; the rain would wash it off.
Sweet, sweet warmth returned to his body the moment they pushed the twin doors to a nearby building open, leading into some kind of lobby area. There were numerous Civil Protection officers, not unlike Team Phalanx, huddled in groups of three or four—he took glee in noting the number of fire-types. None of them Charmeleon, though.
Flame set one foot in front of the other with extra care. The wooden pavement was one big puddle, and Team Phalanx's arrival likely did little to help. Besides that, he could still hear those infernal, phantom raindrops rattling in his ears, as if his body had yet to fully realise that there were none.
That's probably why it took him a second to notice a massive Scizor shove another nearby Vulpix against the wall to reach them.
"Psst! Hey!" the Scizor waved its pincer to draw attention.
Team Phalanx halted collectively, staring up as the tall insectoid stepped ever closer. Light from overhead lamps refracted off the insectoid's red, metallic exoskeleton, making it seem gleamier than it probably was.
"You three. Task Force Aegis?" his voice was coarse, as though channelled via a metal grate.
Neither of them responded, instead staring bemused, unsure of what to say.
"Looks like it," the Scizor answered himself, eyeing the badges pinned on their bags, "I need your help with something. Come."
"Apologies, mister," Alice narrowed his eyes, "I don't believe we know each other. Who are you?"
The Scizor remained impassible, nonchalantly tapping the thin, imperial-purple scarf tied round his neck. "Imperial Army. Let me explain: part of my troops are tied down in Victory Square to control some ongoing unrest. That means bureaucracy won't allow me to launch a raid without recruiting more participants. I need two minimum. Interested?"
Flame turned his head to exchange looks with his teammates. Such a proposal would grant them something to do for the day, yet he could not help but shake a veil of weariness that came with anything regarding the Imperial Army.
He really didn't want to see Virgo or Yvaine again, either.
"Oh. But s-sir, why us? Aren't there other pokémon fit for the job?" Alice asked.
"My colleagues would rather see my head roll than lend me their troops," the Scizor said, "All that's left here at Tempest are these lousy fire-types, and they whine like cubs at the thought of going out in the rain."
The officer barely seemed to acknowledge the glares directed at him throughout the room, shifting his eyes to Flame. "Your friend here looks tougher in comparison. So? What will it be?"
Flame blinked, caught unprepared by the compliment. He didn't quite mind—even if it did only serve to appease him.
Now it was Gaius who spoke up, arms crossed. "Sir, I'm sorry, but our current rank does not allow us to take joint assignments with the Imperial Army. Accepting would be against the rules."
Flame leant over to the side, whispering. "Oh, right. Even after we completed that mission, she still hasn't promoted us, did she?"
"Damn right she didn't," Gaius murmured back, "Probably doesn't even care."
The Scizor let out a near-metallic noise akin to a groan. While outwardly impassible, a quick glance at its eyes revealed mounting impatience. "Look, I'll give you two days' worth of mess hall meals. Just a simple raid on some insulae. Suspected reactionaries. My squad is competent: there will be no threat to your life."
Flame took a step backwards, beckoning his teammates to follow.
"So, what do you think? Do we risk it?" he said in a hushed tone.
"It would certainly give us something to do for the day," Alice said, "And the food sounds promising, too."
Gaius kept his arms crossed, gaze lost in thought. "Yeah. There isn't really much of a choice; Ariel just made every mission on the bulletin board worthless. Damn her. Let's just hope no one finds out."
"But … what if she does?" Flame asked, biting his lower lip.
"Then we'll starve. Just like if we turn down this offer," Gaius looked him straight in the eye.
Still not entirely comfortable with what they were about to do, Flame acquiesced nevertheless. There were still a plethora of questions going unanswered in his head: why would Ariel raise the price of basic goods so abruptly? If they found themselves in trouble, how would the rest of Civil Protection cope? And the proles!
It was Gaius, in function of team leader, who turned to the Scizor. "We accept."
"Perfect. My team will rendezvous at twelve-hundred hours near Domus Aerelia. Be there."
After the Scizor had stepped outside, Flame was left only with hushed blathers of the other pokémon in that lobby, and the rhythmic fizz leaking from outside.
He looked past the doors. It was still pouring.
At least we don't need to travel far... Flame grimaced as he struggled to keep apace with Alice and Gaius, hugging his own chest tightly, tailtip firm within his protective grasp.
If such a thing were even possible, the rain had only intensified ever since entering those moody streets overlooked by Camp Tempest. It must have been high noon, yet telling with any kind of certainty was an impossibility whilst storm clouds barricated the skies above.
Cold jabbed spikes into his concentration with each droplet. He could not so much as take a single step without quivering visibly. On the upside, however, it almost meant that the streets were near-empty—veiled under a thin layer of mist—and the grime which normally coated the pavement slowly washed away.
"Come, let's stop under here for a moment," Gaius gazed back at him, pointing them to a small shop on the pavement surmounted by an awning.
"… Thanks," Flame muttered, mildly surprised at such thoughtfulness. Once beneath the awning, he began squeezing his eyes and shaking off as many droplets as feasible. Within seconds, a mild warmth began to spread—already his tailtip's fire danced jovially. The rain only sounded louder as it ricocheted off the overhead canvas. On impulse he pressed his body against the shop's entrance, perhaps in a vague hope that the owner had foolishly left it unlocked. No such luck.
"Don't worry," Alice said, "I'm pretty sure our mission is going to take place inside. Hopefully it'll clear up by then."
"Hopefully," Flame replied, gaze wandering all over. He could feel his thoughts become a little clearer with each passing moment. He realised that this might have possibly been the first act of kindness ever offered by his leader. Perhaps things would get better between the two of them. Yet soon he would have to step outside his protective haven, and that did little to boost morale.
"Are we late?" he asked.
Gaius shrugged. "Don't think so. I'd rather find out when we get there—Ariel's villa should be a few blocks away."
"Okay. Sorry for … y-you know, slowing us down."
Alice nuzzled his shoulder gently. "Don't worry about it. Heck, I myself can barely function during wintertime. Feels like your brain's encased in ice."
"Oh, Mew, don't remind me…" Gaius groaned, the grass-type cupping his claws over his face.
A wry smile crossed the Dragonair's face. "Come winter, I bet we'll be the ones having to apologise. Expect that tail fire of yours to be abused extensively."
Flame could not help but be infected by her smile. "Mobile torch and warm blanket? Man, I just keep on finding new roles to fill…"
Gaius interrupted them both by tapping his foot loudly against the ground. "Let's not loiter too long. We can chat along the way, if you want."
Any sort of glee in Flame's mind vanished as quickly as those words were uttered. With great reluctance, he swallowed back an impulsive groan and stepped forth into the rain.
The three of them marched along with further impetus, perhaps empathetic to his misery. Somewhere in remote distance, thunder boomed. They passed by what Gaius said was Ariel's villa: he could not quite see it beyond the tall walls, overseen by Bisharp guards whose metallic armour gleamed moist as it refracted his passing tail fire.
If these legionaries are anything like Virgo and Yvaine, I'm going back to Tempest, Flame clenched his fists at the thought of those two.
Tightening his self-embrace, he spoke, struggling to maintain coherent syllables. "Have you two ever worked with legionaries before? A-apart from our escort, the other day."
Never turning directly to him, Gaius shook his head."Nah, that fortress mission was a first. Never bothered to speak to one before. I can't stand the thought of those pompous twats faring better than us."
"R-r-really?" Flame said, "How? Do they get better pay?"
"Not quite," Alice chimed in, "Legionaries do not receive 'pay' in the traditional sense. However, they have a mess hall which serves breakfast and dinner rations every day."
Flame stared directly at her. "That … t-that sounds amazing! Why don't we enlist? It would solve all our problems with making ends meet!"
Alice seemed to halt for a moment, as if caught unprepared by his statement. "I … suppose you're right, technically. I myself considered joining the Imperial Army when I first came to Aesernia. But…" her gaze drifted from his eyes. "What if we're forced to serve on the front lines? That Scum encampment back inside the fortress was small—it is dangerous to press one's luck. I just don't want to exchange death by starvation for death by mutilation."
Flame was so enthralled that the rain clawing at his scales became close to an afterthought. She was right, he thought, no particular type of demise appealed to him over another. Yet, none of them could ignore that lack of food continued to weigh on their every step, with each sunrise, and winter looming ever nearer.
"Yeah," Gaius said, "That, and the ridiculous recruitment fee you have to pay. Because of it, most soldiers end up being sons and daughters of rich Southern pricks."
"Actually, that doesn't hold true anymore," Alice pointed out.
Gaius scoffed. "Wait, are you being serious?"
A vigorous nod followed by Alice. "There was a paper I found last time we went scavenging, dating a couple of days back. It said that General Sycorax has announced plans to axe membership fees, as to make enrollment more appealing."
Gaius rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "Ah, great. Now Southern pricks can serve beside Southern proles. As if the Imperial Army wasn't already incompetent enough."
Flame scanned their faces for any signs. Both Alice and Gaius looked on quiescently in contemplation, still considering the topic. Doubtless it brought impulsive skepticism, but Team Phalanx needed to acknowledge every possible option.
Let's just focus on the mission for now, Flame thought, just as the three of them turned a corner and detoured through a shanty prole street of nearly identical three-storey houses, only marginally cleaner due to rainfall.
Albeit their given assembly point was kept sort of vague, it didn't take very long for them to spot a small gathering of six, maybe seven pokémon by the roadside. With the streets being nearly deserted, this had to be their temporary colleagues. He mentally praised their common sense for standing underneath a fairly large balcony jutting out of a prole apartment, and quickly slipped under it himself, disregarding formalities.
All eyes turned to Team Phalanx.
"Here's those civvies the captain sent us," sneered a snow-furred canine, garnishing a large scythe-like protuberance from its face. Flame had to take a step backwards to dodge an erratic swing when its owner looked to the side.
"That's us," Gaius nodded, "Is everything set for the mission?"
The Absol took a second to reply, seemingly forcing back a sneer. "Yes. Intel says our target lives just a few hundred metres out. Male, Combusken. Weather should make sure he's home. Come."
The Absol motioned with his head once again, prompting Flame to jump back at a swinging head-scythe. Their entourage of legionaries walked forth down the right side, close enough for snippets of speech to leak to his ears.
"What was he thinking, hiring three worthless sacks?" the Absol murmured to a goofy fire-duck creature.
"Shouldn't we trust the captain?" the Magmar replied, "He must have seen something in them."
"Nah, they're civvies—they'll find some way to mess it all up."
Brow furrowed in internalised animosity, Flame followed the legionaries from beneath balcony-to-balcony up to one of the many three-storey insulae dotting the street. This one actually featured a door—its wood chipped off, yet still standing. Claw marks could be seen all over, forming patterns as though impromptu graffiti. From the tail of his eye, he could have sworn he spied figures shifting from behind the cracked window.
"… 'Right, this is it," the Absol proclaimed as they stared down the door, "Know the basics of breaching?"
Team Phalanx gave one another a brief glance, remaining silent.
"Figures," the legionary said, displaying a pompous grin which only made his face more punchable to Flame.
Gaius was containing his expression to display a staunchly neutral visage. The grass-type played with his forearms, eyeing his leaf blades. "Where's your boss—Scizor guy?"
If such a thing was possible, the Absol was locked in a staring stand-off. "The captain's not participating. As his second-in-command, I make the rules here."
Then one legionary, an overgrown turtle with head-wings almost as fluffy as Alice's, laid a hand on the Absol's shoulder. "Lieutenant, keep your voice down! Or else we'll blow our cover."
Lieutenant Absol shot back towards his colleague at once, before finally giving in with a snort.
"Fine, then," the Absol said in a hushed tone, "Standard procedure. You three, line up behind me. Sergeant, get ready to breach."
Flame looked on along with his teammates as the six legionaries spontaneously took position by both sides of the door: five soldiers to the right, headed by the Magmar, whilst the Absol posted lonesome by the door's left. When the latter turned and growled, Team Phalanx expedited to avoid any further insults.
I'm still going to punch him when this is over, Flame grinned to himself, as he reared his soon-to-be victim. He was abruptly shaken out of his fantasies when he felt the ceaseless rain batter his scales like grape-sized hail. Whilst gritting his trembling teeth tight, he spotted the Magmar glance with a glimmer of sympathy. Glass shards poked at his feet; now that Gaius and Alice were in position, this torture would hopefully end once inside.
Combusken. No idea what one looks like, so I'll just follow what the others do.
"On your mark," said lieutenant Absol, foreknees bent in preparation. A quasi imperceptible black aura surrounded the soldier's head-scythe.
The Magmar nodded. Facing the door, it took two, three steps back, taking one long breath. Then, in the span of mere moments, it opened its beak-like mouth, and out streamed a jet of fire. Steam began hissing and swirling the air as waterdrops kept falling without care onto the flamethrower attack. When the Magmar cut its onslaught short, lieutanant Absol let out a violent cry and brought his charged scythe down on the weakened surface. The result was imminent: the door burst into a thousand pieces, scattered both inside and outside, leaving nothing recogniseable but sawdust and smouldering, steaming chunks of charcoal.
Flame had not the time to uncover his eyes from the shower of splinters before the Absol dashed indoors, and the remaining team members scrambled to follow suit. His tail fire brought illumination to the gloomy first room. The very first thing his brain registered was a small chicken-like creature with red feathers and vestigial wings for arms shrilling sonorously, flushing out of the room in a blur, its little feet tippering against the wooden floorboards.
"Search the building! Move!" Absol barked, already taking off into an adjacent chamber.
And move he did. Albeit the first room looked barren and dust-ridden—perhaps a former commercial venue—it remained connected with the rest of the apartment building via narrow doorways. He kicked over an oil lamp, the only object present on the floor, and gingerly crossed the doorway's threshold. This room was noticeably larger. Grime and dust coated each wall and even the ceiling showed off mold in between each plank. All windows were boarded up: only his own body's tail light allowed him to discern some four or five figures distributed throughout the featureless room, which soon became closer to ten, gaping wide-eyed at the irrupting soldiers. Suddenly the whole room was in commotion. There were yells of warning from all sides. Someone let out a feminine shriek, nearly toppling a bedside cabinet whilst shooting out of the room. A young Delcatty leapt out of the darkness just ahead of Flame, grabbed her crying kit by the scruff of its neck, and leapt away, all in one motion.
It took no time for murmurs and voices to envelop the whole insula like a swarm of flies.
"Did you hear that?"
"What's happening?"
"Civil Protection!"
"Run for your life!"
At the same instant, lieutenant Absol did not seem phased in the slightest—he halted only for the briefest of moments to gaze at the cowering proles in disgust.
"Target's not here. Move up."
Team Phalanx moved room to room, each accommodating anywhere between two to four families ranging up to a dozen, surrounded by the simplest furniture: an occasional cracked oil lamp, ragged blankets whose sight evoked nausea in Flame. Hardly any windows were present, and even if it had been bright and sunny outside, he figured that most of the rooms would have remained in penumbra regardless. There was only a single functioning door beyond the former entrance. The second he neared it, an insufferable stench resembling that of faeces suggested it served as a communal bathroom.
Oh, please don't vomit now, he repeated in his own head, squeezing his eyes shut and flinching his head away. How could proles possibly tolerate these conditions? To sweat thousand more missions and wear his bones down to dust would have seemed more appealing, rather than spend one night in such squallor. Any one of those inhabitants might have been harbouring enough bacteria and disease to kill him outright. He drifted away from the inhabited chambers into a tiny passage further along the back, where a decrepit-looking set of steps led upwards to a further level.
"Ground floor's clear. No signs of the target," said a legionary Wartortle.
"Understood. Sweep the second floor. Go!"
Lieutenant Absol led the way quickly up the steep and creaking stairs and along a tiny passage, into a room which gave on the cobbled street. There was a strip of cloth on the floor masquerading as carpet, a worn-looking stool, bits of food collected in a corner. One could hear the sound of drops leaking through the ceiling. Other than that, empty. The doorless balcony allowed whatever light present outside to seep in.
It was almost imperceptible—Flame noticed a shadow cast on the balcony's surface. As if setting off a chain reaction, the legionaries caught sight of his gaze, and followed the only logical conclusion.
"Thought you could hide, huh?" exploded Absol, who then charged onto the balcony and tackled the hidden figure on the ground. There was a gasp and a flurry as the rest of the legionaries flung themselves through the small doorway to aid their struggling companion. Neither Flame nor the rest of Team Phalanx did so, instead standing back with a sort of disinterest. Bound by curiosity, he merely allowed himself to peek through the doorway.
A scene was unfolding before his eyes, with the Combusken laying with its belly on the balcony railing, legs up in the air, whereas the legionaries attempted to pull it back and inconvenienced each other in the process via sheer numbers. Eventually, though, no amount of kicks to the face proved enough. The Combusken was dragged back and slammed to the floor, Absol laying a paw on its chest.
"Officers!" the Combusken cried, "Don't take me away! You already got my brother, what more do you want? It was him who insulted Ariel—not me!"
"Why so eager to jump off, then?" Absol sneered.
No answer came from the prole, who instead seemed more busy holding onto the railing's metal bars with exceptional vigour. Alas, it would not last; a kick from a legionary's foot had broken the claws on one of his paws. They dragged him back inside, right under Team Phalanx's reluctant gaze.
"What are you even arresting me for?" spewed out the Combusken in a wheeze.
"Let's see…" Absol hummed, absentmindedly licking his paw's fur clean, "You're charged with counts of inciting unrest, civil disobedience, and … ah, I can't remember. Doesn't matter."
"No! I-I just said my merchandise wouldn't sell—never would I dare to imply that anyone should disobey the law!"
"Oh?" smirked Absol widely, half-sarcastic, half-mocking, "Do we have a confession here?"
The lieutenant did not listen to the following pleads of mercy and attempts at outright bribery.
"Put 'im to sleep," Absol turned to the other team members, who proceeded to follow the order via force-feeding a palm-sized seed into the struggling thing's throat.
It was then that Flame noticed a small audience had gathered. Multiple heads peeked through nearby doorways, exchanging dark whispers, a few even climbing halfway up the stairs to look. Some of those stares he felt almost uncomfortable under, being an unsafe cocktail of contempt and curiosity.
Drifting around the room, Absol came about to open a small bedside chest, fidgeting with its dysfunctional locking mechanism and eventually just slashing it open with a claw. He rummaged for a little while before he grasped a quantity of coins just adept to fill his paws, staring in detached uninterest. As if enlightened by an idea, Absol then turned to Team Phalanx.
"Hey, civvies. Want this?"
Flame stared for a few moments. He inherently predicted a childish trick to gain a few laughs from them, but it couldn't hurt to try. His nod came out more sideways than he had intended. Eyes narrowed, he then took one step forward, unwilling to quite wear any sliver of gratefulness. He extended his arm out—
Ah! Now coins littered the floor, bouncing and rolling onto the balcony and plunging into the yard below, bar a few that stopped rolling and settled on the ground in a small, rhythmic dance. From behind he heard Gaius grumble some indiscernable obscenity directed at the Imperial Army lieutenant.
Within seconds, Absol's superior grin grew until it blew up in laughter, gripping his chest as to not lose balance in the process.
Flame grunted inwardly. He felt more bemused than properly furious. Looking outside, he took notice that the rain had largely subsided. Maybe he wouldn't even need to stay in their tent all-day long.
"Come on, don't tell me you're going to act all offended over a few thousand poké," Absol laughed, "It was junk! Six-thousand poké or so. Weighs more than it's worth."
"Of course, you wouldn't need it for anything," Gaius uttered lowly to his companions when the pokémon in question had turned around. Alice said nothing, merely emitted a tiny sigh embued with patience.
Absol seemed to notice that everyone was sort of standing in place with no real purpose. He barked something to the onlookers watching them from every doorway and began walking toward the stairs. Sensing an unspoken order, two of the bulkier legionaries among the team each grabbed one end of the Combusken's body, lifting the malnourished chicken with minimal effort. The unofficial team leader was precluded from leaving by a small ground of four or five pokémon obstructing the stairs, all of whom had gather to watch.
"What is it? Clear the way!" said Absol.
The commoners stared back, those eyes burning with a fiercer impetus than Flame had imagined possible, but eventually bolted downstairs and vanished into a doorway.
Indeed, the weather had cleared, although the sky resembled nothing like a sunny day. The sphere of fire itself could be seen impressed behind a barrier of clouds, thin tendrils managing to break through. Flame was drifting back on a bench in an ill-traversed street, flanked by his teammates. A sigh escaped his mouth. He hadn't quite kept count of how much time had passed since those legionaries told them to wait in place. Perhaps it was possible that they would never come back. It was the Absol that said it, after all—doubtless the Absol would convince his captain to withhold any reward out of pure amusement.
He turned to his teammates, wary. "Guys, do you … think they're actually going to give us those rations?"
"No idea," Gaius shrugged without returning his look, "This whole mission was off-the-cuff, anyways."
Alice shifted uncomfortably in her coils. "You know, now that you mention it, they really have no incentive to show up. Maybe—maybe we did just waste a working day."
Flame wanted to say something. He wanted to add comforting words, if only to bolster his own hopes of compensation. But those sounds faded in his throat, for his brain picked up on a most odd sensation. A feeble, nearly imperceptible vibration travelling down his bones. At first, he dismissed it as a mere physical hallucination, perhaps a phantom remnant of his time spent under the rain, yet to disappear from his nervous system. It did not cease.
He shifted uncomfortably in place, head twisting round to observe his surroundings. It wasn't just a sensation; the earth was actually shaking him to the core. Even Alice and Gaius seemed to stiffen all of a sudden.
"What the…" he blurted out, incredulous, "A-are you feeling this?"
Neither responded, but the mesmerized look in their eyes counted as an affirmative answer.
First they felt shock-waves that penetrated the ground, and reverberated around them. They all stood there, incredulous, listening as an all-encompassing grumble became ever louder and the shaking ever more tangible. For an instant it would have seemed plausible that a colossal creature was growling underneath Aesernia's foundations. There was a mighty crash somewhere far-off as a heavy roof collapsed under its weight, followed by confused shrieks as proles flocked out of doorways and onto the streets.
"An earthquake. It's a goddamn earthquake," Gaius repeated, springing to his feet, eyes stretched wide.
Suddenly, the tremor had halted, along with the rumbling emitting from the ground itself.
"I—I didn't think I'd ever get to experience one," Alice gaped, eyes bound in a kind of stupour.
"T-they're not common around here, right?" Flame asked, he too unconsciously standing up.
"No, as far as I'm aware," Alice returned an uncomfortable look, "The quake didn't feel very strong, thank Arceus. I … I think the epicentre must have been in a nearby province. There's no other explanation."
Another shock wave threatened to send them down on the ground. Thin cracks began appearing on a nearby building's façade. The three of them seemed to realise that standing there in the open would lead to nowhere.
"Let's get back to Camp Tempest," Alice said as soon as the aftershock settled, "I have a bad feeling about this."
End of Chapter X
