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Pokémon Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Royal Replacement

Summary + Cover + Chapter 1 - Prologue
  • Turkeyuwu

    Rhythm Gamer
    Location
    Thailand
    Pronouns
    He/Him | They/Them
    Hello there! Crossposting this work from AO3 and FFN so no need to panic if you've seen this over on those sites before. I will be posting new chapters once a week until it catches up with the main version (10 chapters as of 12/12/23).

    The AO3 version remains my "main" and "superior" version, meaning I am more likely to see comments on that site. Any and all comments and reviews are still appreciated, but with me being new here and not being sure how things work yet it may take some time for me to reply. Author's notes are imported from the AO3 version until caught up.

    PMD: Royal Replacement is an original PMD story set in it's own world with no connection to the main PMD setting. The tone and atmosphere is dark and slightly intense with some elements and inspirations of real-world societal structures and issues. All trigger and content warnings are posted below, as well as in every chapter that applies.

    Rating:
    Teen and Up
    Trigger/Content Warnings: Suicide, Depression, Scenes depicting torture, Swearing, Blood



    Following a reincarnation ruined by a fallen god, a human and Serperior find their fates intertwine as they are reborn in a body unfamiliar to them both. An insignificant human trapped in this world alongside a struggling monarch, Alan must stay on the move, rediscovering his past life's memories while escaping the clutches of those who still think of him as their ruler.



    royal-replacement-cover.png



    Chapter 1 - Prologue
    TW// Suicide, Depression

    White tiles lined the walls of an expansive, sterile room, adding peaceful regularity to a medical chamber's already majestic yet depressing atmosphere.

    A yellowing grassy snake coiled around itself in the center of the room, his body wrapped with layers upon layers of tubes. Even the best medical technology in the kingdom could only barely slow down his rapidly declining health. King Edward could only move his head around slightly, his brown wilted collar dragging along feebly on the ground. He could see the blurry silhouettes of multiple Pokemon standing in front of him, some adorned in glossy gold decoration but all wearing pitch-black scarves to symbolize their closeness to the king.

    One of the figures in the small crowd spoke up in a soft, muted voice. “I've just received confirmation that the ritual is about to be completed, you are able to let go now, your majesty.”

    Edward turned to face them. “Same ritual every life, yet I always feel the anxiety like it’s my first time” he chuckled.

    A Lurantis was the next to speak, “Oh Edward, you were always so overly paranoid, however many lives you live”

    “I’d be much less so if the process wasn't so painful for all of us, next life I’m going to find a way to refine the reincarnation ritual, I promise you” His speech started to slur.

    “I think it's time for you to go now. I and the rest of the cabinet will be waiting for you on the other side dear”

    “Love you Melissa” Edward whispered, before relaxing his head, letting the mattress underneath him fully support his head. His eyes now fully relaxed and closed, plunging him into darkness for the last time this life.

    No one was mourning, but they were all silent out of respect for the end of King Edward, the Everlasting King of Krux’s 44th life, and in mental preparation for the next one, in the cycle of royal death and rebirth neverending.

    The silence did not last long however, interrupted by the sound of frantic footsteps coming from outside the room, followed by a Kirlia, looking both panicked and in complete fear bursting through, the door swinging open and slamming into the wall beside it.

    “T-The ritual! S-Somethings w-wrong with the ritual, y-your majesty…” Kirlia whimpered.

    Countless sharp glares instantly shot at the hyperventilating psychic, the crushing pressure locking the pokemon into a submissive kneeling position

    What do you mean something is wrong?” Melissa growled.

    A Sceptile from the crowd continued. “We made sure everything before the ritual was set up correctly, how did you screw it up anyways???

    “I-I don't k-know sir, t-t-the–"

    His majesty is already dying, do whatever you need to, just complete the ritual at any cost, NOW!

    The Kirlia shot up immediately, legs still trembling from the pressure bearing down, and dashed out of the chamber, not even acknowledging the command that was just barked at her.

    “Edward… Edward… please Edward… hold on for a little longer” Melissa begged.

    It was far too late for Edward to continue living now, despite his best efforts. The sounds of his wife, the Everlasting queen of Krux, slowly drowned out by white noise, before again being replaced by absolute silence. The world around him was plunged into complete nothingness.

    King Edward, the Everlasting King of Krux, had passed away.



    Slow, labored footsteps rang out as a thin figure trudged slowly up the rocky outcrop. They were nothing more than skin and bones at this point, more akin to a lifeless husk than an actual living human.

    His supplies had all but run out a long while ago, but that didn’t matter, he wasn’t planning on returning from where he was going anyways.

    The figure emitted weak raspy breaths from his emotionless face. Countless lines streaked down it, originating from the corner of his unfocused, bloodshed eyes, tear glands long dried out from years of endless depression.

    The only emotion he felt now was surprise and disappointment, at himself for letting his life fall apart like this, at the people around him for not even batting an eye when he let go of everything, and even at the park rangers for letting him come up this far without care. He looked down and thought to himself, not even the world wants me to continue living I guess, before audibly sighing.

    So lost in disappointment, he didn’t even notice the rocky path around him start to thin out and transition to air, not even the intense rush of wind around his ears could break him out of his thoughts. Soon, all that was in front of him was a thin buffer of granite followed by a thousand-foot drop into the jagged rock below.

    Bringing his head up once again he was met with a vast forest beneath him. Leaves swaying around, their direction entirely dictated by the still intense rushing of wind, now reversing in direction and rushing from behind the man, enticing him to step off even further.

    So ironic. He bemused. Millions of people would die for a view like this, and I get to die at a view like this. Lucky me....

    The smallest pebbles tumbled off as he moved to sit down on the edge, bony legs now dangling limply off the edge. He nonchalantly kicked off his worn-down shoes, sending them hurtling down in an instant before slamming loudly into the cold hard ground below.

    Grim realization finally caught up to him as nausea fully overtook his body, he was really about to die right there and then. No chance to wimp out now, not again, not ever.

    He steeled himself, extreme nausea still limiting his motor control and causing him to sway. The howling winds silenced themselves for a moment, providing a brief moment of serenity. That’s my cue to jump. Fuck this world, fuck this life, and fuck you, god.

    He relaxed his body, sliding off the edge, wind kicking up from underneath him now. True terror flashed across his wide-open eyes as the last few seconds of his life came rushing down all at once. The jagged, brown rocks were approaching him now, causing him to seize up on instinct before he could eve–

    The world returned to darkness once again. Alan Forges, completely forsaken by the world, had passed away.



    Alan awoke again to his surroundings still completely enshrouded in darkness. No, darkness even darker than darkness, complete nothingness to its fullest extent. He knew for a fact he was no longer alive, he remembered dying in a car crash…. No that wasn’t right… His memories were rapidly slipping away he realized.

    It was dark, so dark, enough to cause him slight panic. Not being able to feel his own body further exacerbated that info a fully-fledged panic attack. What the fuck? He tried to exclaim, just to realize his mouth no longer existed. What did I ever do to deserve this? He couldn't even remember how he died anymore. It was so dark.

    Before any further panic could settle in, he felt as if something lightly tugged on his ghost-like form. Even he himself couldn't feel anything, so he was very much intrigued by this new external force prickling his body. It’s getting more intense, He commented, as he started to feel more like a ragdoll being jostled around than whatever he was supposed to be currently.

    Silent whispers echoed around him, like a hymn being read out from a book or mantra being recited. Alan was never very religious, so he paid little notice to the voices around him, growing in intensity at a faster rate than even the grabbing and pulling of his body, now violent enough to fling him around like a house in a tornado.

    Instantly all the sources of discomfort surrounding Alan doubled, tripled, quadrupled in strength. The voices were more akin to demonic screaming, injected past his metaphorical ears and directly into his perception. The tugging was no longer a suggestion, it was more similar to a ravenous wolf, clawing and ripping into his form like he was its first meal in decades. The pain… The pain... Alan couldn't even think straight now, his entire perception of his surroundings warped simply by the mountain of excruciating pain he was barely tolerating.

    Similar to his memories of his entire life, Alan felt as if his body was rapidly dissolving. It was being pulled around, ripped apart, reformed and most importantly, he could feel himself being grabbed and mashed into a foreign entity. The entity felt similar to him, though he couldn't tell much else due to the pain spiking all over his mangled spectral form.

    As the two beings violently twisted and turned into each other, all Alan could do was desperately wish for the pain to stop. He wished for it to simply just all go away, he wished for the maddening nothingness to return, he tried to cry out again and again, only for not even a single squeak to emanate out.

    The suffering continued for what Alan perceived as an eternity, but eventually, the forces applied to him sputtered out one by one. Even the foreign body he was twisted into felt part of him now. Did it end? Did I finally win out? Did my wish actually come true for once?

    Alan was just so tired, he just wanted to stop existing already. He wished for one last thing. Take the rest of my memories and leave me be. Please.

    A voice rang out some distance away from where Alan lay.

    I cannot grant you that wish, unfortunately. You have a purpose to serve for me, Alan. Take my gift, take on the form of King Edward, Everlasting King of Krux, and free me from my eternal damnation. That is my one command for you. Good luck Alan.

    Alan could neither make heads nor tails of the contents or the bearer of the message, still bouncing around inside his head like the persistent pain he had endured just moments ago. He felt the world blanking again, he deserved this rest for once, it was like going to sleep again in his human life. He stopped feeling, he stopped thinking, he stopped existing.
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter 2 - Unfamiliar Familiarity
  • Turkeyuwu

    Rhythm Gamer
    Location
    Thailand
    Pronouns
    He/Him | They/Them
    Chapter 2 - Unfamiliar Familiarity
    Alan awoke to a light dimly shining around him, barely enough to pass through his shut eyelids to stir him awake. It was cramped and claustrophobic, limiting any and all sorts of movement Alan tried to make. He wasn’t sure how he ended up like this, but being trapped in this tiny prison of sorts definitely was not what he wanted to wake up to.

    He could roughly work out the dimensions of his prison from the inside, using what little room he had to move his arms around. They were more difficult to move and less responsive than expected, but he chalked it up to just being asleep for so long. The walls were smooth and slippery, curving upwards and rounding off directly above him. An ovoid structure, exactly how the inside of an egg would feel.

    How the hell did I end up inside an egg? That’s the last time I’m going out drinking with friends… Alan internally grumbled. Even in a situation like this, he stayed surprisingly calm, he was always known for being the thinker of his friend circle, keeping the entire group out of trouble as best he could.

    If I am truly inside an egg, I should be able to easily break out, like a hatching duckling right? Alan reasoned.

    Squirming around for a couple of seconds, Alan felt a tiny crack in the otherwise smooth walls brush up against his left leg. At the same time, he could feel some instinctual urge rush up his throat, taking control of his head and repeatedly telling him to kick and kick and kick.

    Alan obliged, not being able to think of any other solutions. He thrashed around violently, focusing his efforts on a single point near the tip of the egg. The membrane and shell were exceedingly tough, much more than what he was used to with chicken or duck eggs, but he could feel the crack widening as he continued attacking the shell.

    Tiny shards of eggshell fell upon his still-closed eyelids, he had not been able to open them even now, to his benefit. The crack widened, glaring sunlight leaking in from above. After some more intense effort, a front leg shoves past the gap, followed by a powerful burst of energy originating from somewhere inside the egg.

    The egg trapping Alan promptly disintegrated, showering his surroundings with varying sizes of shell and leaving him laying in a ball on the orange rock, reeling from overexertion.

    The burst of energy also left Alan temporarily blinded, but he quickly recovered. As his vision slowly regenerated itself he slowly registered it to be a forest clearing of sorts. The wall of trees loomed over him and seemed massive even from a distance, separated from Alan by a massive lake, tiny waves rippling on the surface.

    Attempting to stand up, he quickly started stumbling over as his hind legs were unable to support his body. It genuinely feels like I’m a newborn again… What's going on? Alan wondered. As he toppled over and lay face up on the ground, he tried to think back and remember what he did last night.

    Ok, so I was definitely out drinking with friends… Wait… What even are their names… No… His eyes widened and tightened as he struggled to recall the names of any of his friends. What the hell... I KNOW I have friends, but I can't remember any of their names?

    As Alan continued to search his thoughts, the extent of his memory loss became all too clear. This… It feels like I’m an outsider to my own mind…. He couldn’t help but begin to whimper as the crushing reality of his situation dawned on him.

    He closed his eyes and felt tiny droplets of tears forming around his eyes. He could remember the fact that he was someone, but not what he looked like. He could remember that he had friends, but couldn’t remember anything else about them. He could remember the emotions he felt throughout his life, the what… but not the why, the reason, the events that had spurred them.

    Sharp stinging pain suddenly shot up his throat, a dire sense of thirst overpowering his attempts at memory recollection. He flipped over and attempted to stand again, this time on all fours. It just felt more natural to him, that natural inclination to act more as an animal than a human winning over, similar to what he felt when he broke out the egg.

    Confused initially, it took only a short glance at what he thought were his arms for him to reveal the problem. Instead of two cream-colored arms resting in front of him, all he could see were tiny snow-white legs, wobbling intensely as he attempted to slowly crawl towards the lake.

    W-what? These aren’t my arms… Where are my hands? As he panicked, his front legs gave way and Alan tumbled to the ground once more. The burning in his throat quickly reshuffled his mental state. Whatever. Water first, then I’ll figure out what the hell happened to me...

    Fortunately for Alan, it only took less than a minute of struggling for walking to feel natural again. He still felt like moving was a massive burden to him, but he was already happy enough that he could walk in the state he was in.

    The moment he was within reach of the lake, he plunged his entire head below the surface of the water, gulping mouthfuls of water without a second thought. Relief washed over him as the extreme burning in his throat immediately dispersed. Now much calmer, he pulled his head out of the water and composed himself.

    He tried looking back at his fragmented memories once again, attempting to recall them chronologically instead this time. Mentally dull images of his childhood passed by, each having barely enough clarity for him to grasp its contents generally. Watching cartoons on a Sunday morning, eating a sundae with someone familiar, his first rollercoaster ride. Progressing to his teenage years, his memories were now so clouded that he was only able to only just distinguish peaks in emotion from the sea of blankness, progressively getting more overpowering as he cycled through more and more memories. At some point, when he was about 21, he was completely unable to recall anything further, only white noise permeating the rest of where his memories should have been. He could still remember the ideas of most objects, like a car or a grilled cheese sandwich, but he couldn't call back to any example of him having experience with any of them. Alan quickly stopped again as the lack of tangible memories left him frustrated and mentally fatigued.

    Satisfied with whatever he was able to recall, Alan focused his vision back onto the surface of the lake, once again peaceful, near perfectly mirroring his own image for himself to see.

    He was no longer human. Snow white fur coated the entirety of his quadruped body, save for small parts extending about 3 inches from his paws, being a light cerulean blue instead. His 4 legs were attached to a tiny frail body which, relative to the blades of grass around him, Alan approximated to be about 2 feet long. His face was also fully covered in white fur, still damp from him diving his head into the lake just moments prior. A canine-like snout extended from his face and was rounded off by a tiny black nose. Sliding his focus up, his eyes were relatively large compared to the rest of his face, a singular cloudy sky-blue color filled his lenses, blank shiny eyes staring back at him save for a noticeable golden tint around the edge of both of his eyes.

    An overgrown ball of long white fur drooped down to eye level from the center of his head, able to cover part of his eyes if Alan angles his head perfectly. Sandwiching the furball are two relatively massive pointed ears, stretching out and down to about halfway down his face. A similar golden tint lined the edge, shining against the white and dark gray ear and making the ear seem to glow against the dark forested surroundings. A lone similarly colored tail stood resolute, peaking above the tuft of hair before curling on itself tightly, shining golden fur coating the tip of the tail.

    Alolan Vulpix? Alan recognized. He could recall the concept of pokemon, and many different species of pokemon, but was uncertain where he had encountered them before. He however distinctly remembered seeing a few of them on the TV as a child, whether it was a show or a documentary he was unable to ascertain.

    So it seems I was reborn in this world for some reason, but I don't remember why though… Internally sighing, he kept analyzing his situation. Something has removed or is somehow fully suppressing my memories as a grown adult, it means something wants me to be here. Is it possible I have a role to fulfill here? He flicked the damp wad of fur covering his eyes backward, a satisfying wet slap echoing from behind.

    Movement in his peripheral vision shattered his train of thought in an instant. Whipping his head around, he could no longer spot what was approaching him. What? Did I sense something? Alan was sure his senses were not this sharp when he was human. Another effect of my reincarnation… He sensed movement in his peripheral vision again, from 2 distinct figures approaching from much closer this time.

    Eyes widening, Alan quickly spun around to face the two figures, this time not disappearing from view, but still approaching his location at a casual pace. Unconsciously, he dug his claws into the ground and got into a defensive position in an instant. I’m… this… this isn’t me… I can’t control my instincts… He wasn’t going to fight it however if it was keeping him safe he was content with just following along with it.

    The two shadowy figures seemed locked in deep conversation, their voices now able to be heard over the light background chatter and bristling leaves.

    “...and her majesty has been requesting all guards leave her room except me, and I’m literally not allowed to tell you what happens next.”

    “No, no do not worry, I am very much able to imagine what Melissa is doing with you.”

    “Karu!”

    “I am just joking Chai.”

    “I’d appreciate it if you at least gave some respect to her majesty, maybe she would actually stop disliking you so much.”

    The taller one of the pair suddenly held its paw up, instantly quieting the other. “Shush. I spot something ahead…”

    As soon as they approached the forest clearing their pace slowed. The figure craned its neck to study the tiny Vulpix, trembling lightly but holding steadfast. A flame of recognition lit its crimson eyes as it flickered from reality, reappearing in an instant directly in front of Alan, the other figure scampering frantically behind.

    “Its... I-Its truly you… your majesty” The navy-blue bipedal canine was kneeling in reverence now. Alan, still disoriented from the sudden turn of events, barely composed himself and looked up at the kneeling knight in front of him, towering over his tiny stature, black stripes lining its tightly shut eyes. Four black tassels dangled behind, tied up with a torn-up black ribbon, drooping down low enough to brush against its fluffy tail splayed across the grassy dirt. Thin gray armor fitted around parts of its body, bumps and scratches coating every part of the dull metallic surface. In the middle of its chest, the armor parted way to reveal a chest spike, adorned in all matter of golden decoration. A Lucario, Alan noted in his confused state.

    The other figure came running out of the trees in a frenzy. “Hikaru what the heck? You just ditched all your stuff with me and bolted!” hissed the walking mushroom, stubby red claws flailing around, irritation clear in his eyes. Unlike its partner, they weren’t wearing any armor, only a simple black scarf matching the ribbon on the Lucario, a single golden medallion pinned proudly to the center of the scarf. Two brown leather bags slung behind its back, filled to the brim with a multitude of items Alan wasn’t able to recognize. That’s a really small Breloom… or that Lucario is just massive…

    Before Alan could further react, Hikaru, still kneeling, snapped his head around and barked at the Breloom, now standing a short distance away from the two of them. “Chai! Not now! He’s back!”

    “What? How can you tell so fast?” Chai questioned, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

    It's the eyes and tail Chai! Look at that beautiful golden tint! Your majesty, you truly are still alive!” Hikaru exclaimed as he turned back around, facing Alan with his head tilted downwards once again.

    Chai took a moment to study Alan as well, before the same flame of recognition also struck the Breloom, head diving to the ground in an instant. “B-But how?? Didn't the ritual fail?” said Chai, his weakened voice not heard by anyone else.

    Alan wasn’t sure how to react to any of this, he hadn’t even the time to process that he had been reborn yet. His face scrunched up into a confused pout, legs still rooted firmly to the ground. He turned his head around, trying to see if the two pokemon were instead talking to someone else instead. Unfortunately for him however, they were not.

    The Lucario, now directly looking at the little Vulpix, spoke once again with his calm composure. “Your majesty, I am not sure how you ended up in the form of a newborn Korian Vulpix, but I am honored to be graced by your presence once more”

    Chai stayed silent, head still glued firmly to the ground, prompting a small jab from Hikaru’s backhand spike. Suppressing a small yelp, he continued where Hikaru left off. “Y-yes it is truly an honor to have found you so quickly, we only just heard recently about the possibility of your reappearance.”

    Hikaru spoke up once again “We were tasked with divulging your possible location, however even we didn't expect your return to come so early”

    “The failure of the reincarnation ritual had sent the royal palace into disarray, your presence there would greatly reduce the chaos, we need your leadership your majesty” Chai pleaded.

    Alan was sure he was being confused with a different pokemon for sure now, but when he opened his mouth to try and explain his situation, all he managed were a weak whimper and a couple of silent growls. Shit, I can’t talk at all! I’m not a king! Or… at least I don’t remember being one… what the fuck do I do?!

    He kept on trying to form something, anything with his mouth, but instead only a few light pants followed by an uncontrollable hacking cough. His vocal cords were not developed yet, he had no way of getting his point across. A familiar instinctual urge began to rise up his throat once again, this time screaming at him to escape, to leave, be anywhere, just not here.

    Alan scanned his surroundings, spotting the entrance to a cave not too far off his left side. Chai, picking up on his abnormal body language, whispered to Hikaru. “Hey, I highly doubt he can understand us right now… I think we need to take his majesty back by force.”

    “Chai?!” The Lucario scolded, completely caught off guard by the suggestion. “Are you suggesting we assault the king of Krux!?!?” He was standing up now, staring down at the Breloom, visibly irritated.

    Alan, spotting the opportunity for an escape, dashed past the Lucario, back turned and distracted. Hikaru however, having sensed his intentions many moments ago, only deeply sighed in resignation.

    “He’s heading towards the mystery dungeon Karu! Do something!”

    “Fine Chai, but you will have to explain why we brought His Majesty back unconscious with a bruise on his head” Hikaru grumbled, rolling his eyes before slapping his palms together, forming a massive ethereal bone, masterfully being swung around.

    Alan made it about halfway to the cave entrance before he could no longer run, his abysmal stamina causing him to slow down to a walking pace. Feeling a rush of wind from behind, he was only able to turn his head slightly before the Lucario was upon him, the bone sword accurately landing upon his head with a mighty reverberating THUNK. His sight blurred, colors slowly consumed by a strangely familiar all-encompassing darkness.

    The aura bone clattered on the ground, collapsing on itself immediately after. The Lucario followed, prostrating himself in front of the limp Vulpix body. “Apologies Your Majesty, I sincerely pray for your forgiveness for this act of violence.”

    Chai wordlessly followed suit, walking over to Alan’s unconscious body and kowtowing himself nearby. Getting up, he began to form bright purple spores in his mouth and lightly blew them onto Alan, turning his fur a faded lavender color.

    “That should keep him down for a while” he coldly stated, turning back to look at Hikaru, now rummaging through one of the two bags they carried with them. A small transparent box emerged out of the impossibly small bag, being plopped onto the ground as Alan was scooped up and gently placed into the container. A soft click signified the box was locked, before being picked up and swallowed by the bag, warping in size to accommodate its new contents before returning back to its normal size.

    The two pokemon slid back into the trees, speeding away from the forest clearing and into the shadowy background once more.

    The lakefront would return to peace once more, but not before a blinding flash of electricity appeared and disappeared in an instant. A vivid yellow feline stood over the aftermath of the brief battle, lightning-shaped tail flicking impatiently as it inspected the spores on the ground. As quickly as the figure had appeared, it vanished again, leaving nothing but the shattered remains of an egg on the ground as evidence of anything taking place there.



    [Next chapter will be posted on 17/12/23]
     
    Chapter 3 - Regal Rituals
  • Turkeyuwu

    Rhythm Gamer
    Location
    Thailand
    Pronouns
    He/Him | They/Them
    Chapter 3 - Regal Rituals
    CW // Mental distress

    Alan’s consciousness returned gradually, the true darkness of his mind giving way to a blurry dimness. He was groggy, the effect of the spores still slowly wearing off. Vaguely aware of his surroundings he could feel the warmth emanating from below, his drooping tail hanging off the arms of the figure carrying his body.

    He wanted to snuggle up further into the warmth, but he was still completely paralyzed from the neck down, only able to feebly rustle his tuft of head hair against his blindfold, the ragged piece of cloth tightly tied around his eyes.

    A few silent moments passed, drowsiness drawing near again, before a distinct click around his neck jolted him awake once again.

    The warmth below and around him was now gone, replaced by the constant cool of the rocky ground where he was placed. A similar cold surrounded his neck, causing him to shiver lightly. He could sense a figure carefully tiptoeing around him, footsteps barely audible. It reached down, expertly sliding the blindfold off in one quick motion.

    His eye flitted open in an instant, blinded by even the dim candlelight. Wincing, he narrowed his eyelids, this time opening them much more gradually. Tiny, rocky walls of a cavern faced him down, his shadow wavering against the darkened backdrop. Eyes flicking around, he saw a large number of berries, seeds, sticks, and rocks of varying colors placed down in an organized fashion, concentric circles of red paint connecting the items in an unknown pattern.

    What the… is this a ritual? Am I a sacrifice of sorts? Alan tried to approach the item closest to him, a plump cerulean-blue berry, its sweet scent making his mouth water slightly. He felt a stiff tug from his neck, followed by the distinct sound of chains clinking behind him. Turning behind, he saw the chain connected to his neck wrapped around a metal pole, standing at the very center of the ritual floor.

    Alan was tied to the pole, most likely a victim of some crazed ritual. He began to tremble strongly, hyperventilating as stress rose to an unbearable amount. No... I can’t break down now, I can get out of this. Curling into a ball, Alan controlled his breathing, forcing his heart rate down, calming himself. He was used to doing this, he could vaguely remember calming himself using the same method before an important meeting in his past life.

    The moments passed slowly, the feeling of stress slowly replaced by the agonizing sense of anticipation. He couldn’t help but begin to wonder what would happen to him, shaking his head strongly as he envisioned all the gruesome fates that could befall him.

    An extended creak came from his right, footsteps following as multiple pokemon entered the chamber, encircling the outside of the largest concentric circle. Some of the pokemon Alan recognized as well, Hikaru and Chai. A Lurantis wobbled in, barely holding it together, sidling up to the Breloom inconspicuously, pink arm blades locked around the walking mushroom. A Sceptile, Quilava, and Kirlia followed in last, the latter two locked in intense discussion over a scroll of text. The 6 pokemon surrounded the meek, trembling ball of fluff that was Alan, fur coat still a light lavender color due to Chai’s spores.

    Before anyone else in the room could speak, there was a sudden rustling of chains, Alan walked up and around, eyes locked onto Hikaru. An intense hacking cough came out of his mouth, his vocal cords still neither developed nor recovered from past events. His failed efforts left him splayed out on the ground, weakly gasping for air and yielding in defeat.

    The Lurantis was next up to speak. “Who is this?” Her eyes locked onto Hikaru while her arms gripped harder around Chai, his claws lightly motioning at the Lurantis to lighten her hold. “I thought you said you found Edward, not some random newborn Korian feral running around?”

    Hikaru replied back with a steady tone, “Your Majesty, this is King Edward's reincarnated form, surely Kirlia and Quilava should have briefed you on this?”

    “Nothing of that sort!” she snapped back. “I was never informed reincarnation could change species, much less turn my dear Edward into some mindless feral!”

    The Quilava responded, “Yes, under normal circumstances this would have been impossible, however, the effects of the failure of the reincarnation ritual still have yet to be properly researched, so a change in species like this is likely one such side effect.”

    “His Majesty’s feral behavior seems to be linked to another side effect of reincarnation as well, in our records we have a single other instance of his Majesty being reborn a feral, so this ritual should reverse that issue.”

    Having given his explanation, the Quilava hastily retreated back into the dim background, hiding between the shadows of the other pokemon. “I see Astar has no more to say, let us get this ritual over with so my dear Edward may return.”

    From the shadows, Astar nodded silently to the Kirlia, who tiptoed up to a well-defined mark painted onto the outermost circle. Out of her mouth came a diverse set of sounds, high-pitched squeals mixed in with random words, a few recognizable to alan, still pinned to the ground in his own crippling fatigue.

    A neon purple glow filled the room, concentrating around the pole at the center of the chamber. The chains were the next to glow, stretching and squeezing violently before shooting at Alan, wrapping around his stomach, and dragging him back toward the pole. He didn’t even try to resist. He couldn’t resist.

    The chains lost their purple luster after a moment, still tightly binding Alan to the pole. He felt his head being gripped by an unknown force, pressure bubbling up at the back of his neck.

    The chanting got louder, the pressure got stronger, the chains pulled harder. I can’t breathe… He struggled against his binds, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. The metal dug into his stomach, dyeing his fur a faded maroon red.

    The building pressure popped, and with it came a horrible, stabbing pain. Like a dagger falling from the skies into Alan’s head, the pain dug deep into his cranium, wriggling, splitting his brain apart. He screamed, seizing in agony. Melissa squeaked a tearful squeal, unable to watch his suffering any longer, before bursting out the room, incoherent blubbering echoing down the halls leading to the ritual chamber.

    For the duration of the ritual, Alan’s screaming did not stop. The pain intensified as he whipped his head around, subconsciously attempting to reject whatever was being crammed into his head. His tears kept rolling down, turning bloody as the ritual progressed.

    More and more information flooded his mind. Words, runes, scribbles, drawings, and pictures all scrambled up and forced into his head like a stubborn child shoving a cube down a circular hole. The pokemon witnessing the ritual on the side all looked away, no longer able to continue watching their leader’s prolonged suffering.

    He was left a drooling, bloody mess in the end, hairs frayed and tangled around his ears. Drool dribbled out of his mouth, muttering incoherently to himself as his unfocused eyes fluttered around aimlessly. An Oran berry was shoved into his mouth, the juices flooding down his throat, cooling them as they traveled down his stomach, diffusing throughout his body as he lay there, barely conscious.

    The suffering subsided quickly, the once bloodied streams of tears now fully disappeared, leaving only a few brownish stains around his cheeks. He unsteadily got up, physically healed but still mentally exhausted. I’m not dead? Great, that was just a torture method, wasn’t it? All this suffering just for them to heal it and start all over? The empty feeling in his stomach grew, the pit deepening as his despair caused him to collapse back onto the ground.

    He felt a new sense, an overpowering sensation to shout, scream, yell at his surroundings. Flicking his head up, he saw the Kirlia slowly backing off, stepping off the marked spot on the ritual floor, now completely devoid of any items or circles painted onto the ground.

    “The ritual has now concluded. His Majesty’s wildness has been eliminated. Communication should be possible now...” The Kirlia bowed, retreating back into the dimly lit background, before bolting through the exit, head low in reverence.

    “Wuh… What did you do to me?” All eyes on the room widened, their curious glares slightly relaxing as Alan managed to produce words for the first time, confirming the ritual’s success.

    “Your Majesty, we are delighted to have witnessed your return.” said the Sceptile, genuflecting. The others quickly followed suit, dropping their heads low in veneration. However, due to Alan’s small statue, all the pokemon in the room still towered over him, and due to a combination of intimidation and confusion, only compelled him to scream out more.

    “I’m not your king, okay? I don’t know who this Edward guy is, but I for one am sure I’m not him.” Alan piped up, taking a moment to catch his breath before continuing. “I’m just a random human guy reincarnated into this brand-new world. I don’t even have half of my memories back and you decide to kidnap me to do some demonic-ass ritual on me for no reason?!? How am I supposed to react to that?”

    As he screamed a brilliant flash of white light shone behind him. Alan, too angry and distracted to realize what was happening, could only scream in agony once again as a new pain shot up his spine. This time the pain was much more physical, he could feel his tail ripping in two, violently destroying and rebuilding nerves and muscle within moments.

    The pain dispersed quickly, Alan shooting a quick glance behind. Two tails now stared back at him, each of their outer halves covered in a layer of sweat and grime, and the inside half of each tail being spotlessly clean. A perfect division.

    The Sceptile stepped back uneasily, worry filling his eyes. Her spiked tail brushed against the wall as she turned to give the Quilava a confused look. “Astar… what did you do…” She lunged at the Quilava, grabbing them by the collarbone, leafy claws digging into skin, drawing blood. “TELL ME ASTAR, WHY DOES HIS MAJESTY NOT REMEMBER ANYTHING?”

    She lowered her stance, and in a blur of motion, hurled Astar into the nearest wall. The sound of bones cracking rang out as Astar tumbled onto the ground, coughing blood but still locked in intense thought.

    She’s gonna kill me. Alan backed away, tail subconsciously tucked under his legs, as far away from the scuffle as he could before the chain pulled tight. I can’t die here, I need to find a way to get out of here. He started aggressively pawing his collar, trying to bend the metal with his non-existent strength.

    Damn this weak-ass body...

    The rattling of chains pulled both of the pokemon’s attention back to Alan. “Madam Celeste, I believe there may be a possible solution to His Majesty's situation”

    “What is it then?” Celeste immediately barked back.

    “Similar to King Edward’s ferality, there are some recorded cases of the reincarnation ritual leading to memory loss. We may have an older backup of his Royal Highness’s most important memories stored in the royal vaults and can replace his altered memories accordingly through a memory ritual” answered Astar, using the nearby wall as support as they limped over to the door.

    “Well get to it then! Scram!” Celeste motioned at Chai to assist the injured Quilava.

    Astar hobbled over to the exit, arms clutching their broken ribs, leaning onto Chai for support as the pair promptly left the room. That left only Celeste and Hikaru, both watching Alan as he desperately fumbled around. Rubbing her temples, the Sceptile turned to leave the ritual chamber as well. The door forcefully slammed shut as the Lucario approached the Alolan Vulpix.

    “No… Stay away…” Tiny clouds formed in the space between his two tails, spewing out a small volume of snow and hail. Snow warning? He willed the snowstorm at Hikaru, now standing only a few feet away from him. The Lucario effortlessly waved away the darkening cloud, dispersing it before it could do anything. “Please, you have to believe me… I’m not your king…”

    “Do not worry Your Majesty, your memories shall be returned soon, please stay calm.” Hikaru reassured as he untied the chains from the pole, fastening it tightly around his wrist instead.

    Alan still paralyzed in fear, could do nothing as Hikaru stood over him, bending down and slipping the blindfold back over his eyes. Tears began to seep out the bottom edge of the cloth, streaking down his snout as he began to sob quietly.

    Hikaru winced with a pang of guilt in his eyes. He didn’t want to watch this newborn suffer anymore, even if it currently housed King Edward’s soul. He had no say in the matter however, he wanted the Everlasting King back on the throne as much as anyone else in the royal cabinet. He was still concerned with the Vulpix calling himself human, considering humans were nowhere to be found on the continent of Krux, but he could only push aside his doubts for now.

    Hikaru wrapped his arms around the sniveling fox, taking great care to not squeeze Alan against his chest spike, before heading out of the room. Alan, now blinded, could only see the blurry motes of light from the torches they passed as they made their way down the corridor. The crying slowed as fatigue quickly caught up, the revitalizing properties of the Oran berry fed to him no longer in effect. He dug his head into Hikaru’s furry arms and promptly fell asleep.



    The damp, rocky ground Alan was roughly dropped onto woke him up in an instant. In front of him was Hikaru, locking the chain still attached to Alan’s neck around a metal loop sticking out about halfway up the low walls of this new room.

    He could sense that the doorway around him was open, and Alan felt compelled to sprint out the door. The sound of his leash clicking to the wall all but destroyed his plans of escape. What’s the point anymore. He was emotionally exhausted.

    “Please don’t do this to me…” he begged. A final desperate attempt, completely ignored by Hikaru as he swiftly left the room, the heavy metal door slamming shut, locking immediately right after.

    At least I’m not being tortured this time... Alan thought. Unlike before, the room he woke up in was almost fully in the dark, the only source of illumination coming from an orb, flickering as it swung from the ceiling. The rhythmic dripping of water came from his left, contributing to the thick, dank air continuously dampening his fur coat, thick grime covering the once pristine white fur he was reborn with. A prison cell, huh... What treatment to give to their so-called king.

    His sense of smell returned last, the musty yet metallic smell of dried blood filled his nostrils. He could smell rot coming from the center of the cell, the source being a pair of rotting straw nests just barely within range of his chain leash. Two beds? But I’m the only one here…

    He heard a faint huff coming from the darkness directly in front of him. “Huh? Who’s there!”

    His eyes peered into the darkness, darting left and right rapidly but keeping most of his attention on the space in front of him. A pair of eyes stared back, menacing red slits glowing around the darkness enshrouding most of the cell.

    “Hey, kid.”

    Alan yelped, stepping back from the voice. His chain went slack, wrapping itself around his hind legs, causing him to tumble over, putting up his paws and covering his face instinctively.

    That thing… it’s going to kill me, isn’t it? Alan felt a primal fear taking over his mind. He felt a layer of snow envelop the inside of his mouth, before automatically escaping his mouth alongside his breath. The figure easily dodged the powder snow, now heading towards the light in the center of the room.

    “Please don’t kill me! I’m not worth anything! I don’t even know how I got here!”

    Alan was hyperventilating again. His wispy hair brushed over his paws covering both his eyes. He would be crying, but he was much too dehydrated from his pitiful snow attack to manage that. I’m gonna die… It’s over, I didn’t even manage to survive a week here.

    “Woah, woah!” The creature stepped into the center of the room, the flickering orb lighting up his body “Take it easy kid, I won’t hurt you.”

    Alan cautiously flipped himself over, facing the creature in the center of the room. It was similar in height and stature to Alan, its faded yellow face covered in a multitude of bruises and scars. Its beak was slightly bent back into its mouth, while whole chunks were missing from the pink heart-shaped scale covering its forehead. A dull gray shard of rock was pierced into its tail scales, also scratched and chipped all over. Jangmo-o? And a shiny as well? It looks like it’s in a really rough state, what did those guys do to it…

    “Look kiddo, I don’t know what sort of shit happened to get the deputy head of the royal guards to personally carry a newborn in here, but it’s not my place to pry into your circumstances...”

    Alan, still emotionally distraught, was sent back into a sobbing mess at the Jangmo-o’s comment.

    “I didn’t do anything! I deserve none of this! I just hatched in the middle of nowhere… I don’t even remember dying! I just wanna go back!” He screamed at the tiny dragon, voice dry and raspy. “I- *hic* I don’t know anything, I only remember my old life as a human, I don’t even know how to act as a pokemon!”

    Alan put his paws back over his eyes, rocking back and forth weakly. He curled into a ball, tightly hugging his two tails, rapidly breathing to calm himself. His throat felt like a desert, nearly as bad as when he first hatched.

    The Jangmo-o clicked its beak in contemplation, before sitting in between the two rotting piles of damp hay. His neck scales rapped against the metal ring on his throat, the chain leashing him to the opposite wall pulling tight. He sat down, chains cuffing his front paws rustling as he adjusted himself to find a more comfortable spot on the rock. He patted the ground next to him, wincing in pain as he inspected his bloody, infected claws. “Sit here kid, I can’t really get closer to you.”

    Alan weighed his options. It looks like he trusts me, or at least takes pity on me. I don’t know if this is just a trick to hurt me though... He looked at the sitting dragon once more, a genuine pained smile plastered across his face. “Y-you won’t hurt me right?” he stammered.

    “You’re safe with me kiddo. I promise.”

    “O-Okay…” Alan weakly got up, both front and hind legs wobbling as they struggled to support his weight. He meekly shuffled over to the Jangmo-o, tucking his front paws under his body, placing himself directly next to the dragon, his chain also pulling taut. “I’m Alan, by the way. W-whats your name?”

    The dragon raised his eyebrows, taken aback by Alan’s sudden trusting attitude. Purring softly, he preened Alan’s fur back fur, picking out small chunks of rock and dried clots of blood from the tangled fur. It was calming, soothing both pokemon’s frayed nerves as they nestled against each other.

    Lifting his head back up, the Jangmo-o spoke again. “My name? It’s–” a series of growls and clicks followed.

    “What?”

    The dragon repeated the same set of growls and clicks, a little slower this time. He sighed after noticing Alan’s puzzled stare.

    “Look kid, us slum kids don’t get names like yours.” He shook his head in frustration. “Normally you’d be able to understand, but something is clearly wrong with you, I get that, just call me Jangmo-o”

    Alan flicked his hair tuft while thinking “Those noises, it reminded me of something. A friend from the past. Morgan… How about I call you Morgan?”

    “Are you sure Alan? Giving a slum kid like me such a name?”

    “Yeah, you remind me of him a lot…” Crushing despair swallowed the Vulpix once again, fragments of memories floating about in his head. It’s all gonna be replaced isn’t it? Whatever they’re gonna do, it’s just gonna delete my existence from this world anyways.

    Morgan, immediately picking up on the change of mood, rubbed his head scale against the despairing fox, comforting him and keeping Alan holding on mentally, even if only barely. He rested his front legs upon the Vulpix, warm damp fur pushed up against his bleeding claws.

    Alan, eyes shut, suddenly felt his senses numb. A faint memory flashed through his mind, flushing away his surroundings for a moment.

    He was laying on his father’s lap, enjoying the warmth of the summer sun as his father hummed a familiar tune. This… I barely remember this… He felt a knot in his chest loosen, able to finally feel himself relax as both his father and Morgan gently stroked his back. His breathing slowed, the memory fading back into his subconscious.

    “Thanks, Morgan. I was about to lose myself again.”

    “No worries kid, you’re handling this really well for a ‘mon who looked like they hatched last night”

    “Actually I think I was born last night…” Alan mumbled under his breath. I think he trusts me now, couldn’t hurt to ask some basic questions.

    “So… where even are we? I was knocked out before waking up here.” Alan asked, being careful not to add too much detail to his question.

    “We’re in the royal prisons.” Morgan replied back immediately. “Some deep corner of the tamed Krux City mystery dungeon”

    “Mystery dungeon? Krux? Tamed?”

    “You really were just hatched yesterday weren’t you?” Morgan uttered. His eyes shut as he recalled the most basic of knowledge he carried with him. “We’re currently stuck in something called a mystery dungeon, got no idea how they actually work though, my family was too poor to afford my education.”

    “Normally only exploration squads are allowed down mystery dungeons, but this one is different.” The Jangmo-o paused momentarily, simplifying his understanding of the world in his mind for Alan. “It’s been… “tamed” is the word I would use. All floors have collapsed, only leaving 1 massive sprawling cave system. It’s no longer alive, the contents of each room no longer being randomized and stuff no longer appears randomly on the ground.”

    “It’s no longer alive? Are we being imprisoned inside a corpse?” Alan didn’t even know how to react. The hell?

    “Ok, maybe I simplified it too much. It’s not really alive in a normal sense, but it does act in weird ways. That’s why everyone calls them mystery dungeons. Anyways, this dungeon was tamed generations ago, back when Krux City was still some backwater pokemon settlement. Pokemon moved in and took advantage of the dungeon, and that's how this city and kingdom got so powerful.”

    I’m really not following, but whatever. I’m just happy he's not ripping my heart out or worse by now.

    “Morgan, how did you even end up here?” Alan questioned. Morgan grimaced and quickly looked away, in shame and anger at the question. The Vulpix immediately regretted bringing up the topic.

    “N-no it’s alright, you don’t need to tell me.”

    Morgan shifted around uncomfortably. “No, no I’ll tell you. I killed a royal tax collector.” Alan gasped in horror. “He took away everything we owned and was threatening to take away my sister next. I couldn’t control myself, so I ripped his neck off, let him bleed out on the sidewalk” Morgan was quivering now, regret filling the space between his pupils. “T-the response was immediate. I got as far away from my family as I could before the guards showed up. I hope they’re still alive”

    Holy shit. Alan stared at the dragon, a little in fear but mostly in pity. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked” It was Alan’s turn to comfort Morgan. He rubbed his snout on the Jangmo-o’s forehead scale, while simultaneously placing his paws on the blood-stained claws. “That blood, it’s not…”

    “No, thankfully. I’ve been here for a few moons now.” Morgan interrupted. He glanced down at his front paw. “It’s my own blood. As punishment for the murder, they’ve been trying to declaw me for a while now. I’m a dragon, so these are too hard to be broken like that. They’ve got close though, both front paws are infected, it might just fall off on its own soon... Hah.” He showed Alan his two front paws, blood and pus seeping out his mangled paws.

    I was their king? I was responsible for causing this? No… No way. Alan’s stomach grumbled, he hadn’t had anything to eat ever since he hatched out apart from the berry shoved down his throat. “Ah, sorry about that, I think I’m starving right now”

    These sick fucks, leaving a child here with no food… Morgan thought. He turned around and grabbed a bowl from the corner of the cell with his mouth. Some sort of toxic purple mulch filled half the bowl, the other half already seemingly being eaten by Morgan himself.

    “Grimy food, it’s the only thing the guards here ever feed me. If you get lucky you might just not get poisoned by it”

    “They don’t give you any of those berries? I saw a bunch laying around on the ground around me when I woke up here.” said Alan, staring at the wooden bowl in disgust.

    “Nah, that would undo any progress they had with crippling me, and gummis would make my claws too hard to break as well, they want to weaken me as much as possible.” Morgan replied.

    Alan reluctantly nibbled at the grimy food, before immediately spitting it out. “Eugh! That’s fucking nasty! I’d rather starve!” He shook his head in disapproval. Morgan lightly chuckled at his reaction. He was about to start talking again when the two of them heard heavy footsteps stomping down the corridor.

    Morgan retreated back to his corner of the cell, only his red eyes visible again. “That one’s definitely for you. Whatever they want from you, good luck kid.”

    The door swung open and crashed into the adjacent wall. The light behind the doorway was fully blocked by a huge figure before it hunched over and stepped into the cell. The Sceptile towered over Alan, still sitting in between the two beds. He was quickly backed into his corner out of intimidation and fear. Shit! It’s Celeste again!

    In her left hand, Celeste held a seed. She chucked it at the Vulpix, the seed flying effortlessly through the air and into Alan’s wide-open mouth. Its effects kicked in as drowsiness overcame Alan in an instant. He yawned and slumped over as the Sceptile moved to pick him up, his chain being yanked out the wall simultaneously. The Jangmo-o could only watch in horror as his newfound friend was whisked away by the head of the royal guards, leaving him alone in the darkness once more.



    [Next chapter will be posted on 24/12/23]
     
    Chapter 4 - Illusory Impressions
  • Turkeyuwu

    Rhythm Gamer
    Location
    Thailand
    Pronouns
    He/Him | They/Them
    Chapter 4 - Illusory Impressions
    TW // Scenes depicting torture, blood

    Alan awoke back in the dimly lit ritual chamber the moment the sleep seed wore off. He could feel something heavy placed atop his head, keeping it pinned to the ground. Looking around, he noticed the contents within the room were much different compared to last time. The pole he was attached to was ripped out from the rock, cast aside on the ground outside the outermost ritual circle. Instead, Alan’s legs were each individually chained down to four steel rings sprouting out of the rock along the edge of the innermost ritual circle, leaving his body sprawled in the center of the ritual room, completely immobile.

    An Aggron sat awkwardly in a corner of the room, just outside of Alan’s field of view, impatiently fidgeting with a tiny piece of steel. It occasionally flicked its sky-blue eyes up from its hands, ensuring that the Vulpix stayed chained down.

    The items scattered about the room were drastically different from the first ritual. Where berries and apples used to lay were now various orbs, sunglasses, gems, and rainbow-colored seeds. A mirror was propped up on the left wall, allowing Alan to see himself clearly.

    His fur and hair had been completely cleaned, and all evidence of the torture that had occurred in the last few hours cleared away. The heavy object on his head turned out to be an oversized crown, three cherry red rubies were slotted into the headpiece, weakly gleaming in the dim candlelight.

    A velvet robe was draped over his back and around his neck, completing his regal look. His mood quickly turned sullen. The royal clothes reminded him of his purpose in the ritual. He was to be a sacrifice to bring the king back, a vessel for someone he wasn't.

    He would lose himself, his memories and personality forever wiped from existence. I’m going to be replaced.

    Alan despaired. He wouldn’t start tearing up anymore, he had done enough of that in the past day already. He focused on the ground in front of him instead, keeping his vision on the long flickering shadows of the ritual items placed in front of him, ears and tail drooping down until they lay flat on his head and ground respectively.

    Time passed at a snail's pace. Occasionally, the Aggron would fumble the piece of metal it was playing with before softly grunting in frustration and shuffling quietly to pick up the steel gadget. Small snow clouds would also randomly rise from Alan’s tail, before being willed by the Vulpix to float over his head, hailing and snowing onto his head fur, dampening it as the ice melted away.

    Eventually, the doors shifted apart as a figure walked in. Alan was too downtrodden to perk his head up and identify the Pokemon. He didn’t need to, they’re all heartless brutes anyway. It slowly stepped around the outer edge of the ritual, stopping next to the Aggron still fully engrossed in its toy.

    “Lorenzo!” The figure barked. “Will you stop playing with that thing like a child and help me with preparations for once?”

    Alan recognized the voice of the Pokemon. It was the same grassy reptile that had knocked Alan out, the same green lizard that slammed that Quilava into the wall, the one that was probably responsible for Morgan’s condition as well.

    Lorenzo grunted, looking at the piece of steel currently molded into a dull screw of sorts, before opening his mouth and swallowing the whole object whole. “Geez Celeste, gimme a break. Y’know how much effort pulling the pole out took?” The Aggron yawned, before tiredly standing up to face the Sceptile, tail slowly twitching left

    “For you? Like half a moment at most.”

    “Ok fine. Then how about the chains?” Lorenzo said as he cracked his neck, the metal armor plates creaking and groaning of age.

    I was the one who did the chains, all you did was play with that damn piece of steel again”

    Lorenzo raised his voice. “Look, it’s not my fault this whole dumbass ritual takes like seven cycles to prepare okay? I could’ve gone back to do some actual work instead of having to sit here and babysit some depressed feral

    This conversation feels weirdly unprofessional... Alan internally grumbled. Especially in front of who they think is their king and all…

    “Whatever. Prepare yourself, the rest will be arriving shortly.” warned Celeste, separating an ancient-looking scroll from the jumbled mess of items sitting in her tail, its wooden edges chipped and crumbling to the touch.

    She carefully unfurled the scroll, making sure to not cause any more rips than were already present on the parchment. Stains and burn marks covered the surface of the paper, making the already faded writing nearly illegible.

    She moved around the edge of the room to face Alan, eyes locked on the script in front of her. Lorenzo rolled his eyes and lifted his arms over and around his armored head, covering his ears

    Oh supreme lord Arceus, We beg of your assistance...” the Sceptile’s voice boomed out, startling the Vulpix.

    Bless this ritual with all your glorious light. Bestow your heavenly power upon this fractured soul...

    Return this feral to whence he came, return us the rightful soul of this vessel!

    Great... Alan thought. This truly is a fucking cult sacrifice...

    Grant us this lowly wish, and accept our grand offerings, your holiness.

    We beg of you for your wisdom, we beg of you for your generosity, all shall revere in your great blessing!

    The wooden casing of the scroll tore apart, its remains clattering on the ground as a knife appeared in Celeste’s left palm. Its razor-sharp edge stayed fully void-dark as it arced through the air, diving into the Sceptile’s right palm before digging through her hardened scales and calluses to draw blood.

    She flicked her bloody palm in Alan’s direction, her blood splattering over his snout and hair, tainting the recently cleaned white fur an ugly shade of crimson red. Alan shook his head, trying to shake off the blood before it sunk deeper into his fur. A metallic scent filled the room as excess blood splattered on the surrounding rock.

    “What’s the point of cleaning me up if you were just gonna turn my fur bloody again anyways?” Alan growled. He didn’t know why he cared so much for his fur, it wasn't like he was going to be able to survive this ritual anyways.

    Silence! Disgusting feral!” the lizard hissed back. Whatever respect she had for King Edward did not carry over to the fox in front of her. “You shall not be permitted to speak until your memories have been restored!”

    Multiple bloody vines shot out of the wound on Celeste’s palm toward Alan. He barely even reacted before the vines reached him, each individual stalk wrapping itself around his snout, thorns digging deep into his skin and muscle.

    Mmmmph!” Alan tried to scream, but the vines wrapped tightly around his mouth, keeping them firmly shut. He tried to destroy his gag by dragging it against the ground, causing the thorns to dig deeper into his maw. The Sceptile’s and Vulpix’s blood mixed together, dripping onto the ground in one long messy stream of blood and tears.

    Celeste watched for a moment as Alan continued to struggle, filling her golden eyes with a twinge of regret and disappointment. That was her king, the Everlasting Monarch of the prosperous kingdom of Krux. The same king that had ruthlessly conquered the entire continent of Krux just 400 years ago, the same king that had single-handedly pushed Krux into a thriving industrial nation, reduced down to a crying newborn fox, memories scrambled to a near unrecognizable state. That was what was left of her king.

    “Just… Just shut up, please.” she whispered, brandishing her knife with one hand and rolling up the ancient scroll with the other. She stepped around the circle, repeating the mantra a further 3 times, one for each cardinal direction around the ritual.

    Alan had given up by this point, head returning to its original position and eyes left to absentmindedly stare at the blood pooling around where the vines muzzled him.

    It’s over... Alan repeated. It’s over. It’s over. It’s over. It’s OVER.

    The rest of the royal cabinet appeared individually or in pairs during the chanting, stepping around the circle and into marked positions around the chained-up Vulpix. Each silently stole a quick, sad glance at Alan, before shutting their eyes or staring at the ground.

    All the Pokemon from the first ritual were back in the room, including a few new faces. Well, all Pokemon except two. Celeste swiveled her head around, unable to locate the Lurantis and Breloom.

    “Astar. Where is her Majesty?” she asked. The Quilava, covered in fresh bandages, flinched at the mention of their name. “I thought I had tasked you to escort her?”

    “Y-yes you did… M-madam Celeste…” Astar was visibly shaking, their eyes rapidly darting around the room as they tried to be as careful with their words as possible. “She… uh… S-she kindly... r-rejected the offer… told me to she w-wanted no part in the ritual…”

    The Sceptile snorted, rolling her eyes over to Hikaru silently standing to her left. “Let me guess, she asked Chai to stay behind in her room again didn’t she?” she half-mocked.

    Externally, Hikaru only smiled at Celeste’s jabs, but in reality, he felt much guilt for Chai. Every time Chai was pulled away from his company he would feel a creeping pit of loneliness grow inside him. He did not know what happened between that Lurantis and Chai, but whatever it was left him in tears, traumatized, seeking comfort from Hikaru every time. He was frustrated, and tired, with no way of ending the cycle of distress and trauma. He had no say in this, all he could do was keep his head down and pray for change.

    He sighed, pushing away his complaints, outwardly projecting a more professional attitude. “There is no issue. Chai’s presence is not required, we have enough witnesses. Proceed whenever you are ready.”

    “Wait! Let me check his condition first! I was his physician after all.” interrupted the Shaymin. Sky-blue rings encircled his feet as he streaked across the room and into the center of the ritual circle.

    “Tsch! And look at where that landed him, Sharron.” the Sceptile jeered, tone much lighter yet with a twinge of impatience and annoyance.

    Sharron glanced back at Celeste. “Oh shut it, Cel. Besides, it wasn't even my fault he ended up like… this…” giving Astar and Kirlia a disgruntled side-eye as he stood over Alan. He placed a paw on the Vulpix, sky-blue rings flickering a neon green instead.

    Hmmm… a-ah… oh no…” Sharron sighed concernedly. “He is doing fine physically, at least according to my limited knowledge of Korian Vulpixes. But his mental health… I cannot stress this enough, but I seriously do not recommend continuing with this ritual.”

    “So what? Are we just gonna have some feral ruling the kingdom? Are you implying that King Edward is gone?”

    “And when did I say that?” Sharron retorted, before pressing his glasses up against his snout. “You see how he’s barely reacting? That’s trauma. This ritual is going to break him. There’s a chance he retains memory of this instead, then there won’t be a King Edward to rule anymore!

    Celeste cringed, taken aback by Sharron’s sudden shift in mood. “Then… What's the probability of him breaking down?”

    “It’s low, but not low enough. We shouldn’t risk it.” he growled.

    The Sceptile looked away from Sharron in annoyance. “Doesn’t matter. We’ve faced much worse odds before, Edward can handle it. We’re proceeding with the ritual! Executive order!”

    “Your Majesty, I know you’re in there somewhere…” she whispered to herself. “Arceus bless him.”

    The familiar purple glow awoke Alan from his stupor. The chains binding his legs tugged, nearly dislocating both his front and rear legs. He braced himself for the pain that is sure to follow, but…

    No sensation came forth. There was only numbness. He felt disconnected from his body, unable to react to his surroundings. His eyes were unfocused, but he wasn’t able to restore vision. Vague, blurry images appeared in his mind. Unfamiliar pokemon, their figures hazy and undefined, their collective presence and pressure building up in his head.

    As suddenly as they had appeared, the compounding images shattered. The pressure released, his vision darkened. He felt his consciousness pulling away from where he lay, gray mist obscuring what little vision he still retained. A singular voice repeated a message from afar.

    You have a purpose to serve for me, Alan. Take my gift, take on the form of King Edward, Everlasting King of Krux, and free me from my eternal damnation.

    At some point, Alan relinquished the rest of his control, and his mind slipped away from his body once more.





    The mist gradually cleared, vision being the first of his senses to return. A small layer of fog stubbornly clung onto Alan, giving him ghost-like wisps along his paws and tail. His body dimly glowed in the darkness, being the only source of illumination in the unfamiliar yet familiar darkness he found himself in yet again.

    His sense of touch returned next. He could tell he was standing on solid ground, the floor was smooth and frictionless yet hard to trudge through. A rounded corner poked into his left torso, leaving a dull gray mark as he shifted his body around off the edge of what seemed to be a huge slab of something.

    The ethereal haze dissipated, and Alan was able to use the light coming off his fur to just barely peer into the darkness surrounding him. As his eyes adjusted, an outline of a building became apparent against the backdrop. Three spires poked up into the endless void sky, each lightly glimmering in the eternal darkness. Huge marble arches erupted from the ground to meet the spires and kept them standing, contrasting against the flat dullness of the surrounding void.

    His hearing returned, and the tingling in his ears was replaced by the distant howl of wind blowing against the roof of the temple. It enticed Alan to get closer, to approach the massive roofed building, to get closer to the wind, flowing into a swirl around his body, seemingly attracted to his glow like moths on a moonless night.

    The chains around his legs were gone, but the soreness in his muscles remained. Alan attempted to stand up, only to crumple back onto the smooth, featureless ground, fatigue preventing him from moving any more than a couple of steps forward with each attempt.

    It didn’t matter. If he wasn’t going to approach the temple, it would approach him instead. The opulent arches and doorway grew larger with each passing moment, eventually rushing over his head and sealing itself shut, trapping the Vulpix inside.

    Moments after, a small figure suddenly flickered into existence, glowing much more brightly than Alan, strongly illuminating the walls that encased the two ghostly figures. It was bipedal, nonchalantly leaning against the golden walls, gently stroking an illusory beard and whistling a familiar tune.

    Someone’s there… Alan’s eyes widened with recognition as the distant figure came into focus. Wait… Dad??

    “Dad… Dad!! Is that you?” Alan screamed at the figure. Overjoyed, he ignored the searing pain in his joints and muscles and bolted towards to figure. He needed to get closer, he needed to see his father again.

    The translucent figure stopped humming as Alan entered its peripheral vision. Turning to face the fox, his eyes lit up in surprise and elation. “Oh? Hey kiddo, what are you doing here?”

    “Dad! Dad!” Alan replied, still screaming at the top of his lungs even if they were only a few feet apart now. “I-I just had the weirdest dream. I got turned into a Pokemon all of a sudden, a-and a bunch of other Pokemon kidnapped me and called me their king and-” he suddenly stopped recounting his experiences and looked down at his paws.

    Pausing for a little longer than a moment, he took a long look at the human in front of him. “You’re not my dad, are you…?”

    It couldn’t be his father. He’s been gone for years... Alan's legs gave out, his body dejectedly flopping onto the ground, defeated. “...w-who are you?”

    “It’s me, Alan. Your dad. Can’t you remember?”

    “N-no! B-but… but…”

    Something snapped.

    “BUT HE’S DEAD!! HE DIED YEARS AGO!! HE’S GONE! YOU’RE NOT HIM!” Alan yelled, ignoring his burning lungs as he continued to scream at the spectral being. “Please… please stop messing with me... I can’t take it anymore…”

    The ghost-like being floated over to the Vulpix now curled up tightly into a ball, small wisps of the fog still hanging around his tail. It settled down next to Alan, hand reaching down and pretending to pat his head.

    The illusory hand passed right through Alan, it only felt like wind blowing around the hair and fur between his ears. It had the intended effect, however, soothing the crying Vulpix until only the occasional sniffle could be heard.

    Satisfied, the figure’s form slowly shifted, arms squeezing and stretching and torso widening and shortening. The fog covered the shifting mass like a curtain in a changing room, only parting for a short moment to reveal the being’s completed form before a frustrated sigh and click would signal the fog to descend back around the ghost as its form shifted once more. A Mew, then an Entei, a Kyogre, Dialga, Reshiram. The being refused to settle on a legendary form it preferred. Yveltal, Solgaleo, Eternatus, Koraidon.

    Ah, this will do.

    The misty curtains shuffled and parted one last time, dissipating back into the darkness. The monster stared at Alan, each of its 7 prismatic eyes darting back and forth, individually scanning a separate part of the fox, slowly uncurling itself to face down the translucent beast. A pearly white glow outlined its entire body, giving the pokemon a god-like presence. Even Alan couldn’t help but stare in shock and awe. A Necrozma, perfect.

    Necrozma’s image flickered and lagged for a moment, bringing Alan’s focus back toward the situation at hand. The being moved its claws around, shifting its entire body to face a marble statue that had randomly appeared nearby. The statue featured a Serperior, two marble vines curved around the pokemon, the end of each vine featuring a rosebud, perfectly chiseled with meticulous detail. It seemed to be in an offensive stance, ready to pounce on whatever attacker was to face it, yet permanently locked into the stony prison it was carved into.

    What a beautiful statue, you could have looked like that as well had everything gone to plan.

    Alan recoiled in shocked fear at the sound coming from the figure. “W-what? What are you trying to say? Who are you?”

    It was a lot more violent of a reincarnation than expected, I apologize for your troubles.

    Realization crashed down onto Alan like a wave. He was talking to the thing that sent him here, the thing that…

    “...so it was you who brought me here…”

    Indeed it was, little Alan.” The Vulpix stared back at the beast in confusion and disgust. “That was not all though. I also repurposed your soul, combined it with another to allow for your continued existence, suppressed it for your own convenience.

    “Look uh… “ Alan struggled to find a way to properly address the Necrozma in front of him. “...you…”

    I do not care what you call me. I have too many names to care. Call me god, call me Necrozma, do not refer to me at all. Your choice.

    “A-Alright... L-look, I don’t want to be here. I have a life to live back home. Please, send me back, I don’t want to be a part of this.”

    Tsk tsk tsk.” Necrozma clicked. ”I pity you. I truly do, but I cannot send you back. Not until your purpose has been fulfilled.

    “But why me? Out of everyone you could have chosen, you chose the most ordinary, run-of-the-mill guy out there!” Alan looked down at the wisps coming off his fur self-deprecatingly.

    It was out of desperation, you were my first choice only for the fact that you were my only choice. I truly do apologize.” Necrozma sat down, inspecting its claws and sighing. “However, I did make completing my task much easier for you.

    “How? All you did was stick me in some newborn’s body and left me to get captured by some lunatics who think I’m their king or something?!” Alan was starting to get frustrated now.

    Your body Alan, it is extremely powerful. Even if you are not the perfect subject and your reincarnation did not go exactly to plan, you are still set to be one of the most powerful beings in this world.” It paused for a moment, struggling to keep the illusion stable. “The energy brimming inside you Alan, use it. It is my repayment for you.

    Energy? What fucking energy? I can’t even defend myself properly. Alan furrowed his brows. He didn’t have much else to lose anyway. I need it to teach me how to survive in this world as well…

    “Urk… Fine…” Alan relented. He just wanted to leave this place, and if that meant working with this god or whatever, then so be it. He would do as he was told.

    I appreciate your cooperation Alan, and do not worry, you will be repaid royally for this job.

    Ugh… Royally. That was a word Alan really didn’t want to hear, given his current situation. He rolled his eyes, staring at the deity in front of him, all the fear in his body melted away along with the rest of the fog on his fur. I just have to help him right? Follow instructions. Simple.

    “Alright then… W-what do you want me to do.”

    Each of its seven eyes individually lit up in delight. Necrozma took a moment to calm down before answering. “The Jangmo-o, the one you named Morgan. Save him. Break him out of his imprisonment. Protect him.” Necrozma clutched a horn with his left claw as the hologram blinked in and out of existence. “Use any method you deem fit. He must not die.

    “And payment?”

    This.” Some of the fog surrounding Necrozma clumped into a simple rock. It looked like any other ordinary pebble to Alan, an unappealing dull gray piece of stone lay down on the ground, mocking him.

    “That's… a rock. You want me to break someone out of jail for a damned rock?” Alan seethed. What god pays their servants in stones?

    You are jumping to conclusions too quickly my dear. Rectify that.” Necrozma exerted a new pressure, one so strong it nearly flattened Alan in an instant. Fortunately for Alan, the pressure let up quickly. “What lies in front of you is a fragment of my former strength. It will allow you to regain parts of your past, memories thought to have been forever lost. A gone pebble.

    Memories? Was he also responsible for that??

    It is too difficult to maintain this connection any longer, I shall reappear once your mission has been completed. Best of luck Alan, I will be watching.” The image shattered like a window shot by a bullet, quickly disintegrating back into a fine mist.

    “Wait! I still have more questions for you! Come back! Necrozma!!

    There was no reply. Everything was completely silent, the constant ringing from Alan’s ear left as the only noise around. Alan lay down to think for a while.

    That Jangmo-o was important to Necrozma, but it left before it could explain why. Oh, what am I doing… risking my life for some random dragon a god tasked me to save. All to regain memories that it probably took from me in the first place. This isn't payment?!?!

    A low rattling sound came from the direction of the statue. Alan quickly turned his head, only to find a blank stone pedestal in front of him, the marble Serperior nowhere in sight. Small flecks of snow began to fall out of Alan’s tail.

    A grand deep voice rang out of the shadows behind the Vulpix.

    “Greetings, Alan.”

    The fox screamed, falling over, and frantically scrambling forwards, onto the base of the statue before turning to face the source of the sound.

    The Serperior statue now lay coiled in the darkness, staring at Alan with its dull, lifeless eyes. Unlike Alan or Necrozma, it did not glow, making it extremely difficult to spot among the fog that had settled down around the temple grounds.

    Paralyzed in fear, Alan could only watch as the snake slithered into view and towards him, before gently wrapping its body around him, snuffing out the only island of light in the sea of darkness surrounding them.

    To his surprise, the marble was soft like flesh, melding around his legs and torso. It was warm as well. Alan hadn’t even noticed the freezing cold of the dark void until the Serperior warmed him up again. He looked up into the eyes of the snake that wrapped itself around his body.

    “Y-you’re the other soul Necrozma mentioned, aren’t you?”

    “Correct dear. You may call me Edward, the former Everlasting King.”

    Wait… former?

    “But then why aren’t you taking over? Why don’t you just kill me now and take over my body again? So many people want you back… Not some random human who doesn’t even remember most of his life…” Alan rested his chin on Edward’s body, the stone uncharacteristically sagging underneath to support his head.

    “I cannot, and even if I could, I will not. During our merger, Necrozma suppressed my strength. It sucked away most of my powers, leaving my soul but a mere shell compared to its past state. I only can talk to you now due to the energy inside you formerly being mine.”

    “But… Why me? I never wanted any of this. I don’t want to be a king for the rest of eternity. I don’t want to be a slave to some god. I just want to go home… To see my family again.” A deep pit grew in Alan’s stomach as he recalled blurry, fragmented memories of people from his former life. Mom… Dad… Caleb…

    “Sweet child, I’m sorry for what has happened to you, but it is your destiny to pick up where I left off.” Edward relaxed his grip on Alan, his furry body sinking deep into the pit of stony scales. “I am just too tired, too weak from Necrozma’s suppression.”

    Alan’s annoyance boiled over into screaming. “No! I don’t care about your kingdom! They’re all just freaks who want to keep torturing me until you show up anyway!” He violently rubbed his head using his paws, wiping away the rest of the tears still in his eyes.

    “I saw, Alan. I am ashamed to have let it fall this far. It was never my intention for your treatment to be this bad.”

    “But that's your problem!” Alan sneered, flicking his hair up and away from his eyes, more snow and fur flaking off his tail simultaneously. “I don’t care! Why should I be responsible for your mistakes?”

    “It’s because you do care, Alan.” Edward slid away from Alan, leaving him sitting in the freezing cold. He settled back down a few feet away from the Vulpix, vestigial arms crossed and eyes shut. “We are one being now, you have my strength and I feel your emotions. I know you care deeply for Morgan, it reminds you of your father. I can see parts of your memories, you miss your father deeply. You want him back, even if that means projecting his memory onto another pokemon.”

    I’m being psychoanalyzed by a snake… and he’s right too…

    The Serperior, noticing Alan’s lack of a reply, continued. “Even in your situation, you feel pity for him. You want to help him find his family. You want to ensure he gets his revenge. You want change.” He pointed a vine at Alan, and the other at himself. “I want change, and–”

    “...and you need my help since Necrozma made you too weak to do it yourself.” Alan interrupted.

    “I cannot say I care much for your quest to regain your memories or your deal with Necrozma, but I also have requests for you. As for payment, I am unable to give you much, but I can supply you with knowledge. Knowledge of the world, history, and whatever else you desire. Please...” Edward lowered his head to the ground, vines put together like two hands praying for an answer.

    Alan paused to think for a moment. Could he really manage all this responsibility? He needed to know more. He composed himself. “Fine… I’ll hear you out. Tell me more… your Majesty.”

    Cringing a little at Alan’s word choice, Edward replied. “Don’t call me that, I no longer deserve that title.” His collar drooped down onto the ground in shame. “I’ve failed, Alan. I’ve known about my cabinet’s corruption for multiple lives, but I was too stubborn to confront them. I didn’t dare to believe my cabinet... my comrades… would collude against me like that. They took advantage of my generosity, making deals without my knowledge, accepting bribes, ruining my kingdom.”

    The Vulpix didn’t know how to react. He faintly remembered something of the exact sort happening in his human life, but details were unclear to him. However, the anger, disappointment, and resentment attached to the memory were as clear as day to him. “That’s horrible to hear, but–”

    Edward ignored Alan’s consolation. Dark, murky tears streaked down his eyes, staining his marble cheeks a dull, void-black color. He continued in a monotone voice despite the evident pain in his eyes. “By the time I decided to take action, it was too late. They had warped the rules so much that I no longer had authority in my court. I was a puppet in the system I had built, essentially tied down to the throne for entire lives at a time, just to reincarnate and live the same life for all eternity.”

    “...”

    “You are my saving grace, Alan. Please, save my kingdom, save Melissa. Please.” The river of rocky tears widened as the gray liquid continued to flood down his cheeks, sizzling away as soon as it touched the ground.

    “I…” The Vulpix was appalled, the kingdom was in such dire straits that he didn’t even know where to start tackling its issues, but he felt responsible anyways. Even though it wasn’t his fault both their lives had progressed to this point, it was still his duty to fix whatever mess Edward has gotten himself into. They were a single combined soul now, if Edward wanted change, it would only be natural for Alan to want change as well.

    Alan stood up and approached the Serperior. His front paw wiped away the tears on Edward’s cheeks, before resting it upon his snout.

    “Alright. I will solve your problems, I will bring peace and prosperity back to your kingdom… on one condition.”

    The Serperior’s head perked up. “Yes?”

    “After everything is done, I want out. I don’t want to rule your kingdom, I’ll find someone to replace you, to rule afterward.”

    “That’s… fine. I understand, we shall discuss more on that topic when the time comes.”

    “What will you do now though, now that I’ve taken over the reins?”

    “Same as Necrozma, I will be watching. You are currently too weak for me to exist within your mind while you are conscious, so we will have to confer whenever you are unconscious for the time being.”

    Cracks began to appear along the wall of the temple, a low rumbling could also be heard from afar. Both Alan and Edward knew their time was dwindling.

    “Okay let us finish up quickly” Edward rushed. “When you awaken, they will have assumed the ritual was successful. Use this to your advantage. Pretend to be me. From the memories I am able to access, we act and think in similar ways, so as long as you speak with grace, you will most likely fool them all.”

    Huge chunks of the golden roof tumbled onto the ground around the stony pedestal as the temple began to crumble, kicking up dust and fog, obscuring Alan’s vision. At the same time, the marble Serperior began to crumble as well, gradually returning back to the fog of the void.

    “One last request Alan… please… tell Melissa I love her.”

    Alan’s vision turned back into gray nothingness, as he felt his mind and body descend back into the world of consciousness.





    Warmth. He finally felt some heat coat his body after what felt like an eternity in the frigid void of unconsciousness. His eyes flicked open, initially unfocused but quickly reorienting themselves. Everything was a different shade of gold or velvet, but it was too blurry for Alan to locate himself.

    Unable to see properly, he relied on his sense of touch to familiarize himself with his surroundings instead. There were no longer any chains wrapped around his ankles, he was able to barely move his legs around. His body was still recovering, fatigue still held a firm grip on all his muscles. He could tell he was sitting on a cushion of some kind, the same robe from before the ritual remained draped over his icy body like a blanket. The same golden crown rested on his head, slightly tilting to the left, threatening to fall off with any sudden movement.

    He was seated on a huge throne, designed for a pokemon much larger than he was. The frame made from gold and wood was well worn, from generations of the same soul sitting upon it. Alan felt a small part in the back of his mind jump up in excitement. Most likely Edward’s influence, he reasoned.

    It was snug and extremely comfortable, but Alan knew he had to fight the urge to drift back off to sleep. He had a purpose now, a mission he needed to fulfill.

    As his vision repaired itself, 3 figures stood out from the rest of the blur. A Sceptile, Lurantis, and Lucario stood half asleep, waiting for Alan to awaken. They had been waiting for hours, tired from the preparations they rushed to complete the moment the ritual concluded.

    Celeste was the first to notice the Vulpix’s stirring. “His Majesty has finally awoken!” she bellowed, jolting the other two from their half-awake stupor.

    Melissa’s form melted into a blur as she sped towards the fox. “Edward!!” Her image stabilized again, now roughly squeezing the Vulpix, locking her giant flowery claws around Alan.

    “Oh, I’m sooooooo happy you’re back! NEVER scare me like that again!! It’s so weird seeing you as a Vulpix now…” She fought back tears as she leaned in to snuggle Alan, nuzzling the fox and twirling his hair with her claws.

    Alan was too shocked to react properly. This was the same Lurantis that essentially screamed bloody murder at their first meeting. She’s not mentally stable, that's for sure… He struggled uncomfortably in Melissa’s grip for a moment, before the Lucario spoke up.

    “Ehem.” Hikaru interrupted. “Your grace, we have many matters for you to examine and a multitude of papers to sign today, may the canoodling be saved for later?”

    Melissa, blushing and lightly sobbing, released her grip on Alan before slowly making her way out the throne room. As soon as she was out of sight Alan could hear her pace pick up, turning from a slow, reluctant shuffle to a hurried sprint.

    “I’ll be waiting for you in our room Eddie~” Her voice echoed down the corridor alongside increasingly faint footsteps.

    The rest of the cabinet quietly sighed in relief. Chai entered the chamber next, lightly jogging while carrying a stack of papers that towered high above his head. He laid the heap of documents in front of the throne, the top of the stack in reach of Alan’s paws. The Breloom also procured a jar of ink from his satchel, placing it on the seat of the throne itself. Bowing deeply, he quickly exited the chamber, not a single word being said throughout the entire exchange.

    “Before we begin your Majesty, I would like to ask quickly, how are you feeling? The memories we were able to procure were… shall we say, insufficient… for our purposes.” Celeste’s eyes darted to the ground, avoiding Alan’s confused look.

    Oh. Right. I need to fool them, don’t I?

    “I feel…” Alan paused for a moment to consider his word choice. “...incomplete, but it’s manageable. I can function, I just… need some reminders.”

    Yeah, that’s it. I just need to play into those incomplete memories. He straightened his posture, trying to maintain this royal image.

    “Yes, of course, your grace. We are already overjoyed at your return, we will happily accommodate any issues with memory.” Celeste bowed, tail silently brushing back and forth in suppressed excitement. “As of current, your body is weak and unstable, so I believe it’s best if you stick to administrative tasks for the current time being, your Majesty”

    “Ah, that would explain the stack of papers…” Alan joked as he tried to keep calm. However internally, he was panicking. How was he supposed to save Morgan if all he could do was read papers all day?

    I need to think of an excuse to meet Morgan again.

    Lightly huffing, Alan picked up the first piece of paper with both of his paws with ease. Considering I have no thumbs, this is surprisingly easy to do… The writing on the document was complete gibberish, random symbols and footprints strewn into lines and lines of illegible text. As Alan racked his brain, trying to come up with an excuse for his illiteracy, he noticed something bizarre occurring on the paper in front of him.

    The symbols were moving. He stared at the parchment, the symbols stretching and squeezing, morphing into a multitude of different shapes before settling on perfectly legible English text. Alan blinked incredulously. What….? Why couldn’t I read before? Why did the letters move around? Whatever, it's probably just Necrozma or Edward helping me out again... He concluded, now able to read the paper in full.


    SOUTH-KRUX ROYAL TAX REVENUE SUMMARY
    DATED: 44G45 11WA 14
    THIS DOCUMENT IS TO BE READ BY ONLY THOSE WITH SECURITY CLEARANCE LEVEL 4 OR HIGHER, STORE THIS DOCUMENT AT ROYAL VAULT #4, FLOOR 4 ROW 3 ONLY

    ROYAL TAX LEVEL INCREASE - 34%
    TOTAL TAX REVENUE INCREASE - 27%
    TOTAL TAX REVENUE - 12,473,027G

    REVENUE BREAKDOWN
    GOLD TAX - 6,300,000G
    COMMON BERRY TAX - 1,245,433G
    EXOTIC BERRY TAX - 1,343,786G


    MISC. TAX REVENUE - 24,393G


    It was incredibly boring.

    Alan looked at the piece of parchment in confusion, unsure of what to do with this information. He put the paper back down onto the pile and looked back up, face scrunching up to give himself a fake concerned look.

    Hikaru, picking up on Alan’s signal, replied. “I understand, your grace. Everything is going to be fine. We just need your official approval on these documents. Once you are happy with the contents of each document, just dip your paw in the ink next to you and press it onto the bottom of the document, we will take care of the rest.”

    So far so good. I just have to do that a thousand more times… Alan jeered mentally. It was fascinating watching the letters of each piece of paper he picked up shuffle around and shift into perfect English, however boring the contents of each document were.

    Immigration request summaries, Guild funding requests, Building project progress updates, random citizen income audits. Hundreds upon hundreds of documents passed under the approving paws of the Vulpix, each painstakingly skimmed through, contents of each read and instantly forgotten.

    He tried multiple times to get up and leave, only to be stopped and returned to his throne by the three pokemon standing guard. “Your Majesty, your work here isn’t done!” They would say, Alan’s words going through one ear and right out the other.

    Edward was right, he really was tied to the throne… a puppet to the system he himself built…

    Alan kept his mind busy by recapping and analyzing what little information Necrozma had given him. He was brought here against his will, to be a servant to some powerful unknown being, all to get his memories back. It was a horrible deal, he was gaining what had been taken from him, almost like repaying a debt he didn’t remember owing.

    Furthermore, his very first mission, one he was expected to do without guidance or prior knowledge, was essentially to break someone out of a prison cell, stuck somewhere deep inside whatever labyrinth the Krux mystery dungeon was. A truly impossible mission.

    Something interesting appeared during his mindless skimming, familiar details popped out of the monotone blur of the surrounding text. Alan reread the contents of the document, this time paying attention to every tiny detail he could make out.


    ROYAL DUNGEON PRISONER LOG
    DATED: 45G0 1WX 13
    THIS DOCUMENT IS TO BE READ BY ONLY THOSE WITH SECURITY CLEARANCE LEVEL 2 OR HIGHER, STORE THIS DOCUMENT AT PRISON VAULTS #1, FLOOR 1 ROW 2 ONLY

    PRISONER SPECIES: JANGMO-O (DISCOLORED)
    PRISONER ID: A-119
    SECURITY GRADE: MAXIMUM
    CELL TYPE: DOUBLE CHAIN

    DATE OF ARREST: 44G45 12WA 2
    ARREST REASON: MURDER OF 1 (ONE) ROYAL TAX COLLECTOR, INJURY OF 3 (THREE) ROYAL GUARDS, RESISTING ARREST, DISTURBING THE PEACE, INCITING VIOLENCE, LOW-LEVEL TAX EVASION
    VERDICT: UNSENTENCED - AWAITING TRIAL
    NOTES: DANGEROUS AND UNCOOPERATIVE, DECLAWING THERAPY HAS BEEN APPROVED FOR IMMEDIATE PROCEDURE, TAKE SPECIAL CARE DURING MEAL PREPARATION: DO NOT FEED ORAN BERRIES, SITRUS BERRIES, FULL HEAL SEEDS, REVIVER SEEDS, OR GUMMIS OF ANY SORT


    Alan went wide-eyed, just who had Necrozma asked him to save? Just what did this Pokemon do to get into this much trouble? Nevermind that, how the hell was he supposed to break Morgan out of there?

    An idea popped into his head.

    He needed more information, whatever he could find, to better form a plan of action. He needed directions to where Morgan was held. He didn’t have much in terms of influence it seemed, but little leverage he did have should be enough to at least arrange a prisoner meeting, and he would figure it out from there.

    “So Hikaru… What do I do if something is incorrect?” Alan asked, putting his clueless facade on once more.

    Pardon? but there shouldn’t be any- I-I mean… Yes, your grace, we can re-verify this information if you so desire.”

    “That’s alright, I can personally verify this information, it would be a nice change of scenery as well. Please arrange a meeting with prisoner A-119 at the earliest possible moment.” The Vulpix replied without hesitation, an aura of confidence and nobility floating above the monarch.

    “B-but your Majesty!” Celeste stammered. “You are still recovering! You should not be moving about at all! Even worse, that prisoner is dangerous, Your Highness.”

    Alan had already prepared an excuse. “That is exactly what I’d like to verify. I may not remember much, but I do still retain memories of being in a prison cell with that Jangmo-o. I’m certain they were neither dangerous nor uncooperative as claimed.”

    Hikaru and Celeste exchanged nervous glances, while Lorenzo had already gone back to fiddling with his piece of steel. After a few moments of tense silence, they finally relented.

    “W-well, your grace… We can arrange for your visitation now if you would like. We shall escort you to the prisoner immediately.”

    “That would be most excellent.” replied Alan, in a cordial yet royal tone. He jumped off the throne, flicking his hair backward as he walked up in between the two Pokemon. “Now please, lead the way.”

    Hikaru and Celeste led the way down Krux castle and into the royal dungeons, Alan following closely behind. He, however, made sure to sneak a few oran berries from a table into his robe during his descent down into the dungeons.





    The descent down into the dungeons was long and physically draining, their path diverging and converging with others often. Alan could barely manage to remember the path down to the castle grounds, let alone locate himself in the Krux mystery dungeon.

    The group encountered a few Pokemon during their journey to the prison cell, all guards or Pokemon working inside the castle. The combined oppressive pressure their group emitted stifled conversation, paused work, and demanded the attention of each individual. They all deeply bowed, some prostrating themselves before the three royals, inaudibly mumbling under their breath and disappearing into the maze of corridors in Krux Castle.

    Multiple times Alan was unable to continue, his undeveloped muscles overexerting themselves and shutting down. Unable to carry on, Celeste opted to carry the Vulpix instead, tucking Alan under her shoulder, her robe and scales rubbing against his icy body.

    This… this feeling… why does it feel so familiar… Alan purred softly in stifled satisfaction. He quickly snapped back into reality. No… She would kill me if she knew who I truly was. Or worse, she would torture me in that room again…

    As the three neared their destination, the mood suddenly shifted. The once impressive, opulent halls that towered far above Alan turned into the cramped, rocky corridors that made up the Krux mystery dungeons.

    Alan peeked into one of the countless prison cells they passed. An Archen hung from the ceiling, unmoving. Blood steadily dripped from the bird’s battered body. It looked more like a dead animal laid out to dry in a butcher’s shop than a prisoner in their alleged ‘care’.

    What the hell... Barbaric…

    A few more quick glances at other prison cells only served to further disgust Alan. A Sandslash, claws ground down into dust. A Honedge, violently wedged into a rock, its edges chipped and dulled. A Golisopod, wrapped in chains, frothy liquid dribbling down a singular massive crack right down the center of its carapace.

    It’s always when I think I’ve seen everything… Your mess just continues to surprise me, Edward.

    A few moments passed in tense silence. As the group turned a familiar corner, Alan immediately recognized his surroundings.

    At the end of the hall, a heavy metal door stood tall over the dimly lit corridor. Celeste peered into the cell, confirming that the dragon was properly secured, before producing a key from a satchel on her tail to unlock the door. The cell door creaked open, revealing the pink and yellow dragon resting inside.

    Alan silently gasped upon the sight of Morgan. He lay chained up on the hay bed, his condition significantly worsened. Rose pink scales chipped and bent all over, claws dented and barely hanging on. His eyes were wide open in fear and anger, fangs bared but trembling.

    Alan entered the cell, internally seething from anger but barely being able to keep his casual demeanor. Hikaru’s voice rang out from behind, reminding him to keep his royal act up.

    “A reminder, your grace. This is not an officially sanctioned visitation, the prisoner has not been informed of your presence. Please be careful.” Hikaru cautioned.

    “That’s ok, I trust he will be fine.” Alan replied in his casual tone. He was hitting his limit on how long he could pretend, he had to get Celeste and Hikaru away from the cell. “Now, I’m sure you two have many duties to attend to, I can have a guard escort me back when I am done, you are uh… dismissed.”

    Celeste nodded in agreement, silently motioning for the Lucario to stay silent. Hikaru’s mouth opened, only to shut itself following Celeste’s assertion, a reluctant nod followed instead. The two bowed deeply before slowly trudging down the corridor, occasionally looking back to ensure the safety of Alan.

    Only a little bit more! Just need to keep this act up for a second! He approached the dragon, head held high. With the most deep, grand voice he could muster, he spoke.

    “We meet again, Morgan.”



    [Next chapter will be posted on 31/12/23]
     
    Chapter 5 - Tumultuous Histories Part 1
  • Turkeyuwu

    Rhythm Gamer
    Location
    Thailand
    Pronouns
    He/Him | They/Them
    Chapter 5 - Tumultuous Histories Part 1

    “We meet again, Morgan.”

    Morgan’s eyes widened in dreaded recognition. That Vulpix, the same Vulpix that had been dragged out of his cell just yesterday was now back, donning the Everlasting King’s signature crown.

    You…. YOU!!” Rage overtook his better judgment and rationale. This was the last straw. King Edward’s policies and neglect of the kingdom was the root cause of his family’s generations long struggle, his lifelong torment as a discolored, ‘cursed’ pokemon, his imprisonment and subsequent torture. The cause of all his pain, standing within reach of his claws, flaunting his freedom. His eyes flared to life, fangs bared and what was left of his claws ready to pounce.

    Alan could do nothing but silently signal at Morgan to calm down. The footsteps walking away were faint now, but the two royal guards were still in earshot.

    Morgan’s body glowed a hot orange as he rammed his whole body into Alan. The Vulpix barely reacted in time, but was too slow to dodge, only barely able to turn his body sideways before the dragon slammed right into his torso. He was thrown into the wall, his cloak absorbing most of the damage but the pain still shot through Alan’s body. He stifled a quiet squeak, still weary of Celeste and Hikaru, their footsteps now barely audible over Morgan’s rage.

    “Please Morgan, calm down! It's not what you think!” said Alan, slightly louder this time.

    Unfortunately, his words were completely ignored by the Jangmo-o. “Shut up! You did this to me! All my suffering! I’m sitting here being forced to repent for crimes I didn’t want to commit and you have the gall to stroll in here and make fun of my situation?!?

    He stood back up, in pain yet still determined, and cautiously tried to approach the raging dragon. Its body still glowed a bright orange but the bonds held tight, keeping it back further assaulting Alan.

    The Vulpix put his paws up, trying to stroke Morgan’s heart-shaped pink scale. His poor attempt at consoling Morgan only further aggravated his reaction. He dug his fangs deep into the paw offered in front of him. Alan recoiled in pain, nearly stumbling over backward as he pulled away his paw, blood messily pooling on the ground around the paw.

    A claw flashed into his field of vision. Without any time to react it sliced deep into his cheek and flipped him over, his crown slipping off his head, clattering loudly on the floor beside him.

    Alan jumped back, wincing in pain as he felt even more fresh wounds form on his body. I need to calm him down… somehow. He thought back to his first encounter with Morgan, back to the powder snow that he shot at the dragon in his desperate panic. A cold aura began to permeate through his veins and muscles as he attempted to replicate the same attack he pulled off.

    His body stiffened, muscles tensed, tail curled up. He took a deep breath, picturing in his mind the most powerful powder snow attack he could, but…

    “Fuuuuuu…” Nothing’s coming out! What am I doing wrong?!?

    “Fuuuu…. Fuuu…. Fuuuu! GRAHHHH!!” He attempted to attack over and over, yet he was unable to produce a single snowflake. “Ugh! Why am I so god damn weak?!?” he cursed to himself. Morgan continued his mindless thrashing, body still glowing red hot in outrage, the chains connecting him groaning under the strain yet still managing to hold back to raging Jangmo-o.

    “I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU! RELEASE ME YOU GODLESS PIECE OF SHIT!” Morgan roared, the glow on his body rapidly dissipating. His eyes unfocused, as his body slumped back onto the ground in front of Alan. He curled up, hiding away the bleeding remains of his claws, crying bloody tears into the rotting straw under him.

    “Please… Please let me go…” Morgan whimpered. “I didn’t mean to– I didn’t want to kill your men! Please… My family… Momma… Save me…”

    “No… Morgan I– I’m sorry Morgan…” Alan’s heart resonated with the crying dragon. A flame of determination, no doubt fueled by Edward’s influence, reignited inside him. He wanted, he needed to save this dragon. It wasn’t for Necrozma anymore, it was personal now.

    An Oran berry landed in front of Morgan, its sweet scent grabbing the attention of the crying Jangmo-o. “Please listen to me Morgan, I’m still Alan… You’re safe, I’ll… I’ll get you out of here. Please, calm down.” Alan soothed, his reassuring tone alongside the warmth of Alan's body as he snuggled up next to Morgan releasing all the tension between them. “I snuck this berry from the castle, eat it quickly. I hate seeing you hurt like this…”

    Morgan took a few labored breaths before messily biting down onto the plump blue fruit, its juices spilling down his jaws and onto the ground. A muted yet radiant glow enveloping his body, cuts and bruises replaced by healthy yellow scales, blood stains fading away alongside the rest of his injuries.

    “T-thank you… But h-how??”

    “How what?” said Alan, also biting down on another Oran berry.

    “How… e-everything? I-I don’t get it… I thought they were gonna kill you! How are you… king?”

    Alan paused. How did he get here anyways? He teared up, countless memories and visions of the past few days of his life flooded back. The hours he spent chained to the pole in that room, the excruciating pain he experienced. They all echoed so loudly inside, his mental distress compounding further and further.

    Overwhelmed, he felt his heart beginning to beat with greater intensity. He was free, yet he felt so trapped.

    Ice formed a ring around his chest as he fell apart. “I-I’m sorry!” he half-screamed, half-cried. “It… I’m… He… I didn’t… H-hurt…” Sobbing mixed with rapid, shallow breaths rang out as Alan repeatedly failed to keep himself coherent, memory of his lowest moment resurfacing, clouding his mind. He curled up, silently mumbling apologies to himself.

    The warmth from a paw shattered the growing ring of ice on his torso. Alan shuffled closer to the source of the warmth, letting Morgan rest his entire body upon the sniffling fox. The Vulpix relaxed slightly, he was safe now.

    “U-uh, I-”

    “Calm down kiddo. Let’s both take five.” said Morgan, softly.

    The two of them cuddled in silence for a long while, occasionally glancing at each other in support. Alan’s breathing slowed, his anxiety melting away into the warm sea of tranquility that now permeated the cell. After a while, Morgan spoke again. “You feelin’ better?”

    “Y-yeah, a little,” replied Alan, his mental cloud clearing away. “I’m sorry, by the way. I’m sorry for what he’s… what we’ve done to you.”

    Morgan tilted his head slightly in confusion. “Hm? What do you mean by that? How bout’ you start from the top, from when we got separated. Take your time.”

    “A-alright… They took me back to the room with the rituals. Celeste… She kept saying that my memories were gonna get replaced. But something went wrong again… it didn't hurt like last time, I barely felt anything at all…”

    Alan paused for a moment, debating how much of his experience in that weird realm of fog he should reveal to Morgan.

    If Necrozma wants me to break him out so much, it’s better if we both know as much as possible. He concluded, glancing at the Jangmo-o softly stroking Alan's back, patiently waiting for Alan to continue.

    “I woke up again in this weird fog… Like a dream a-almost…” Alan continued on, recounting his experience with Necrozma, and what little information he was given he shared wholeheartedly.

    For a moment, Morgan’s eyes narrowed slightly as he self-deprecatingly sighed to himself. “I can’t say I’ve heard about this ‘Necrozma’ being you’ve met, but it’s a little suspicious he wants a nobody like me alive…”

    “I’ll be completely honest here, Morgan, a lot of what I’m doing now is also for my own gain. I… I really need my memories back. But…” Alan abruptly stopped. No, not yet, that’s not important right now.

    “But what?”

    “N-nothing important. What is important is that when he left, King Edward also showed up to talk”

    Morgan hissed at the mention of King Edward, scales on his side flaring up in instinctive defense.

    “W-wait Morgan! Edward’s not what you think he is!” Alan shuffled back slightly, unsure how Morgan would react next. “He… He was forced into this! His royal cabinet trapped him, melded his influence to their needs. When I was sent here, Necrozma merged my soul with Edward. He… We are one now. I have to fix whatever mess he started.”

    “And for that…” Alan deeply prostrated in front of the sitting dragon. “I’m sorry. Sorry for your unfair treatment. I’m sorry for whatever happened, whatever Edward did to get you and your family here. Please, accept our sincerest apologies.”

    Morgan looked away, faintly blushing. “O-oh… N-no Alan, you didn’t have to! I get it, and I promise, we’ll get out of this together, alright?”

    “Then I promise, with my life, I’ll get you out of here Morgan.” said Alan, determination filling his gold-tinted eyes. “But aside from that, what about you? What do you plan to do now?”

    Morgan’s expression darkened, eyes firmly locked down to the ground. He fiddled with his claws in deep contemplation.

    “I can’t do much in my current position other than to just hold on.” he finally replied. “But if you’re wondering about once we escape, my highest priority is probably to find my family, or at least, confirm that they’re still alive.”

    “I…” Alan looked down as well, eyes locked onto the Jangmo-o’s claws. “I’ll do my best to help, I-if I can… I don’t know what Necrozma wants from me next.”

    “I appreciate it, Alan.” Morgan looked up, a tiny smile forming on his face.

    For a few moments longer, Alan felt his stress melt away. He could forget about all the pain and his purpose for just a bit and focus on the warmth instead. He’ll take their escape one step at a time.

    Morgan sighed, they both knew staying together any longer would be suspicious. “It’s best you get going, your majesty. Stay safe out there, alright?”

    Alan took one last glance at the cell before making his way out. The guards at the front were quick to return to their original posts upon noticing the king’s departure.



    Emerging from the Mystery Dungeon, he slowed his pace considerably, taking the opportunity to absorb the surrounding scenery. This was the first time since he had hatched that he finally felt in control once more, no longer being kept knocked unconscious or kept imprisoned in a dimly lit room somewhere. He knew it wouldn’t last long, but just for a moment… He was free.

    He strayed off the paved pathway, onto a nearby grassy hilltop overlooking one of the royal gardens that surrounded him. Atop the mound he marveled at the full extent of Krux’s power. The castle stood proudly in the center, its exterior walls as well as the surrounding moat seemingly glistening in the late afternoon sunlight. It seemed so large, even at a distance. Alan reflected on that thought for a moment, it hadn’t even crossed his mind how large everything was in his new body.

    It’s so beautiful… This kingdom, their people, the world as a whole… Why must there be so much garbage hidden alongside… A contemplative tear rolled down Alan’s cheeks. He understood now why Edward had so desperately begged him to save his kingdom, and he was determined. He wanted to save this kingdom. No… he needed to save this kingdom… just like Morgan.

    His golden eyes gleamed, reflecting the light of the setting sun. He felt… satisfied, like an invisible weight being lifted off his shoulders. He had found his purpose, a goal to look towards, some feeling to wake up towards unlike the fear and dread he was subjected to throughout the past week of his new life.

    The rest of his journey back to the throne room passed by uneventfully. The grassy fields of the royal gardens soon turned to smooth cobblestone roads extending all the way back to the castle. The sun was quickly setting below the horizon, urging the Vulpix to hurry his pace. His slow, relaxed stride turned into a light jog as he approached the castle exterior.

    A Frogadier and Dewott, both suited with light metal armor, stood guard in front of grand wooden doors of Krux castle. Their short stature against the much larger, more imposing entranceway made it hard for Alan to feel in any way intimidated. It did not help that both of them seemed to be asleep, leaving the gateway unmanned and unprotected and allowing the Vulpix to easily sneak inside.

    Dim candlelight illuminated the silent grand halls, each footstep echoing between the walls adorned in gold decoration and portraits of the royal cabinet. Many of the portraits featured the same Serperior, donning a similar velvet robe and golden crown to the one Alan was currently dressed in.

    Now that I’ve got the chance, I should explore around a bit. Alan mentally noted down his path as he turned each corner, details imprinted into his mind like landmarks on a map. The castle was designed like a maze, many branching pathways only leading to dead ends or cramped rooms at the end of most corridors.

    He noticed the workers inside the castle seemed to actively avoid him, his presence in the castle accounted for yet not obstructed. No matter however, roaming the countless grandiose corridors of Krux castle was a task much easier completed alone.

    Forming a mental map of his surroundings proved much easier than he had expected. Was it due to his new form’s natural instinct to explore or was it another power bestowed upon him by Necrozma and Edward he could not answer, but he did not care either. As long as it helped him achieve his goals, he fully welcomed it.

    Each hallway he traveled down felt near identical, only the height of the candles and torches lining the walls seemed to change. However, as he neared his destination, everything felt much more grand and opulent. More gold lined the walls and ceiling while the dim torches and candles were instead replaced by beautiful crystal chandeliers, swaying melancholically in the majestic yet slightly stuffy hallways of Krux castle.

    The throne room stood out against every other entranceway lining the golden corridor. Multiple gems were embedded into a massive archway and doors, the flickering candles atop the chandelier causing them to sparkle. The light that emanated from the room was blinding compared to the relative darkness of the corridors that led to it. Without much left to do, Alan pushed aside the sparkling doors with relative ease, and entered.

    A deafening silence permeated the now empty chamber. Lorenzo, Hikaru and Celeste seemed to have gone off to fulfill their duties elsewhere, leaving the Vulpix alone with the same stack of unread papers, seemingly having doubled in size in the few hours he was away.

    Alan had no interest in reading any more paperwork however, instead hopping onto a pile of documents, using it as a ramp instead.

    Stepping onto his throne, the tiny Vulpix felt a wave of fatigue wash over. The cushion puffed up as he laid atop it, wrapping his fluffy belly in soft and comfortable leather and foam. It was still much too large for him, a light reminder that this wasn’t really his throne to begin with. He was a pretender in the end, no one other than Morgan and Necrozma knowing his true identity.

    Yawning, Alan felt his mental strength collapse. The wave of fatigue grew exponentially in strength, him now struggling to keep his eyes open. Warmth from his robe and cushion only compounded the effect.

    His thoughts fragmented, brain shutting off one at a time. Can’t… fight off… sleepy… damn this body…. He smiled as his head drooped. Alan was in bliss. For the first time since being reborn in another world, he was finally able to fall asleep naturally for once.



    Alan reawoke to the same dense fog gradually parting, revealing the same dull gray landscape extending in all directions around the fox. His immediate surroundings had been modified, however. Where once was barren, featureless wasteland now stood a singular long dining table. Alan was positioned at the head of the table, the throne where he lay in the conscious world transferring over to this still unfamiliar world of fog.

    Directly opposite lay sat Edward, coiled up. He was staring off into the barren wasteland behind the Vulpix when both their gazes met. Alan glared back, memory of seeing the pokemon imprisoned in the dungeon, as well as Morgan’s initial reaction to his presence reigniting a deep, burning rage inside him.

    “Alan… I’m sor-”

    “You’re what? Sorry? You gonna make more excuses about how you haven’t been in control of your past few lives? You could have stopped this centuries ago!” yelled Alan, his sharp tone causing the usually well-composed monarch to shrink back slightly. “You can’t keep shifting the blame to your cabinet Edward! You caused this! Morgan is suffering in there because of your policies!”

    Edward prostrated himself before him. “Alan I… It wasn’t supposed to be like this! No one told me it was this bad! They’ve been keeping me in the dark as well Alan!”

    Alan jumped off his throne and strode across the wooden table towards the trembling Serperior. “They, they, they! It's always their fault isn’t it? Why can’t you see that it’s as much your fault as their own?!?”

    “A-Alan please, calm-”

    “Can it, snake.” Alan interrupted, now standing on the opposite edge of the table, staring down at Edward, head still lowered. “None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for your stupidity! You have no one to blame except yourself! This entire situation we both find ourselves in, this is all your fault! It’s not fair I have to fix your fucking problems!

    “I know Alan! It’s all my fault! You don’t need to keep repeating it!” Edward snapped back, startling Alan, the Vulpix’s tail drooping in response. “This… All of it… I know I caused all of it… The prison wasn’t the only thing that I screwed up, Alan.”

    Oh fuck… I didn’t mean to come off that aggressively… He’s been through so much already… A few moments passed in tense silence, neither knowing how to properly react. Edward hid away his face from Alan, stuffing it in between his coiled body.

    Alan hopped off the table, landing next to the Serperior, snout nuzzling Edward’s dull gray scales. Two vines picked Alan up, placing him in the center of Edward’s coil. He tensed, causing the coils to wrap around his entire body more tightly.

    As Alan embraced Edward’s unnaturally warm body, he could hear Edward’s muffled sobbing and muttering echoing around him. “I’m sorry, Alan. It was never meant to be this way. I wish I could do more to pay for my neglect…”

    “But… It’s too late for that now. All this is karma for my past actions, my punishment for my failures I must atone for. I’m sorry I got you sucked into this mess as well, Alan. You probably wouldn’t have had nearly as hard of a time had I been less reckless with my management.”

    “Oh Edward… No… I didn’t mean for that to come out so harsh…” Alan watched as Edwards head popped back out, the both of them guiltily looking at each other. “I’m sorry as well.”

    “...”

    The two of them stayed folded on top of each other, each silently looking at each other, quietly working up the courage to start over. Alan was the first to speak up. “Look Edward… I need ideas. Morgan, he…”

    “I saw. His situation is precarious. But your situation is much, much worse, Alan. I’ve seen those looks Celeste and Lorenzo gave you before, in my final life. They are preparing something, something to bind you to that throne forever. Something to keep you under their claws for the rest of eternity. You need to get out while you still can.” said Edward, his cautionary tone instilling a deep uncertainty in Alan’s mind.

    “So what? You’re suggesting I take the nuclear option?”

    “Nuclear?”

    “N-nevermind that. Human expression.” Alan quickly corrected. “You’re suggesting I escape as soon as possible? How would I even get away from Celeste and Hikaru, let alone the rest of the castle? I’m sure you know a lot more than me about how capable your entire cabinet is…”

    “You’re underestimating your capabilities again, Alan.” A vine shot back out of Edwards collar, pointing at the Vulpix. “You have my energy to tap into, you have Necrozma’s support as well.”

    “Edward, did you even see me against Morgan earlier? He was chained to the wall, and I still nearly got my ass beat! I couldn’t even produce a powder snow reliably!” Alan whined. He was beginning to feel increasingly frustrated at all the expectations placed upon him by both Necrozma and Edward.

    “You are still physically young, Alan. Your body was never supposed to be subjected to so much trauma this early, if at all ever. I believe something is subconsciously locking those powers of yours away”

    Alan looked around, confused. “Uhm, sure. So do you have any ways of going around this ‘subconscious lock’ of mine then?” He questioned, uncertain how he should react to his current situation.

    “I’m highly certain Necrozma would have a solution to your problems, being a god and all.” He leaned in, whispering as if someone else was listening in to their conversation “I would wager it was him who caused this block in the first place.

    “I’m sure he’s not making my life more difficult, that would also ruin his plans as well y'know.” Alan defended casually, not wanting to put too much thought into the motives of a god.

    Noticing the lack of a reply from the former monarch, the Vulpix continued. “This world just feels so… confusing to me. Like, I get the concept of pokemon, I get the idea that y’all have kingdoms and shit, but just… Mystery dungeons? Rituals? It’s all gone over my head honestly.”

    Edward chuckled, bringing Alan into an even tighter embrace. “Oh sweet child…Forgive me for this, but I’ve seen fragments of your memories when we merged. They’re… blurry at best, but they do give me insight into your world.” Edward sighed, continuing in a much more somber tone. “Your world. It’s much different from this world. Humans… Humans everywhere, and not a single Pokemon in sight. I do not know where you have encountered our kind before, but it is nowhere to be seen in the few memories I was able to see.”

    “Heh… Yeah. Weird…” Alan awkwardly murmured in agreement. An extended silence followed, the Vulpix struggling to continue the conversation.

    Noticing Alan’s internal struggle, Edward took the opportunity to probe further. “Alan… Is something the matter?” He asked, shifting to a much warmer tone

    “N-no? Edward wha-“

    “For the sake of our prolonged cooperation, I shall answer that for you.” He interrupted. “You are conflicted, Alan. You have found a purpose in this world, but are fearful of following that path.”

    “Your situation is unique. As much as I’d like to help you, my inexperience with your issue limits my usefulness. However, I will impart you with a small bit of advice. You do not owe anything to Necrozma.”

    Noticing Alan’s concerned and confused stare, Edward clarified. “He may have some of your memories Alan, but have you considered why he took those from you? Could it be that those memories were actively harming you? Would it be better now that you have parted from them?”

    Alan stared at Edward, his cloudy eyes deep in contemplation. What has Necrozma been hiding from me? Had he only picked my happiest memories to aid me in adjusting to this new world? Why would he give me the option to regain what he had taken then?

    “I-I… I don’t know….” he eventually replied, the uncertainty in his voice much more apparent than before. “I’ll need to think about it. Nothing makes sense to me yet.”

    His tail and ears dropped even lower, prompting Edward to pick up the little vixen with his vines, pulling him up to face-level so that their snouts were touching.

    “Take as much time as needed Alan, I will always be here to support you. We are one being now, whatever helps you helps me as well.”

    Edward smiled. Alan returned it with a smaller, more restrained smile. “T-thanks Edward, I appreciate it.”

    “It is best for you to awaken now, Alan.” The Serperior urged, noticing a faint rumbling in the distance. He placed Alan back atop the throne he appeared with. “But a thanks to you as well, for giving me an opportunity to atone.”

    Alan’s body began to dissolve, alongside his golden seat, into an amorphous blob before gradually disappearing into the ground.

    He gave one last look around the barren wasteland that was his subconscious realm, before allowing the darkness to fully consume him once more as he descended back into the conscious world.



    Edward watched longingly as the last of the golden throne descended back into the misty, undefined ground alongside the little Vulpix. Yet, he found himself unable to collapse the subconscious dimension and return to watching the world through Alan’s eyes. That’s intriguing… The last time control of this realm was wrested from was… oh… oh no….

    The Serperior’s blood ran cold as he realized what was going on. A prismatic glimmer in his peripheral vision caused him to turn, vines violently whipping in the general direction of the light. He was too slow however, the prismatic eyes glittering against the background proved too agile, effortlessly weaving between the constant barrage of attacks Edward desperately tried to fling at it.

    Necrozma’s form scattered, leaving Edward alone in the foggy wasteland once more, still unable to escape back into Alan’s mental realm.

    That’s enough. Playtime’s over.

    Edward’s muscles were forcefully relaxed as control of most of his own body was also stolen from him. He collapsed onto the floor, only able to move his eyes to stare at the floating pile of ink-black crystals that had materialized over him.

    “Urk…” Edward grunted as he struggled to retake control. Even speaking was a struggle for him. “Nice… to see you… again… Ne-c-crozma…”

    Necrozma replied with only a pitying glare back. He continued watching Edward struggle for a while longer, silently chuckling to himself.

    “Were you… listening… in o-on our conversation?” Edward choked out, each word sapping what little energy he reclaimed against the god-like being’s pressure.

    “I was, and I must say, you are pathetic, Edward.” Necrozma spat. His multicolored eyes flickered between crimson and an even deeper cerulean, crystalline claws clenched tightly, his disappointment and rage so clear.

    Atonement? Tch. Pathetic. Your attempts at escaping your past are futile. You will never clear your conscience. I will make sure of it.

    “I do not care, Necrozma. You have taken all I have already. Leave me and Alan be.” Edward huffed, breaking into a coughing fit, muscles were still locked up from Necrozma’s influence. “I know… what… you are doing to… Alan… and I-I will see to it that you… d-do not succeed.”

    Necrozma's illusory form flickered. He growled and his cold inky claws squeezed into Serpeior's neck, choking him. Vines claw at the crushing grip and his tail flails around in desperation. Necrozma lifted him into the air, where overwhelming psychic power twisted and coiled his body into a grotesque ball. Edward's muscles strained as he used all his strength to wiggle and push back against the force, only for it to smash him into a table. It cracks with a boom and thousands of splinters shoot everywhere, many piercing his ivory hide. He hollered in agony.

    Murky liquid seeped from his mouth. It trailed down his beaten body and pooled around the table's remains.

    Insolent scum. Do not hinder me any further. You are nothing but a vessel for my servant, you shall act like it.

    “You humor me, Necrozma. For a god, there’s surprisingly little you can do to me in your current state.” the serpent mocked, eyes glaring back at the seething deity. “As you said, I am his vessel. You need me to reach him, and you cannot do anything about that.”

    We will see about that. But fine, enjoy your relative freedom for now, your Majesty.

    The pressure pressing down on Edward released as Necrozma’s image flickered and vanished. Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, he slowly melted back into the misty ground as the barren wasteland around him collapsed back into Alan’s subconscious.



    [Next chapter will be posted on 14/1/24]
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter 6 - Tumultuous Histories Part 2
  • Turkeyuwu

    Rhythm Gamer
    Location
    Thailand
    Pronouns
    He/Him | They/Them
    Chapter 6 - Tumultuous Histories Part 2
    The throne room was still in peaceful solitude as Alan’s senses returned to him. He was groggy and thirsty, yet he stubbornly continued to stay huddled under his royal cape.

    He peered around the room. The candles, once standing tall and mighty, burned down to the wick. Thick white lines streaked down the side, the wax having dribbled down and solidified in a pool below the dim candle flame that remained.

    Alan yawned. Edward’s advice echoed in the back of his mind. Was he truly happy to have found his purpose? Or was this just more of Necrozma’s manipulation?

    His ears twitched, reacting to the distant shuffling echoing down the nearby hallways and into the throne room, now nearly fully in the dark as a few of the candles began to extinguish.

    Celeste stepped into the throne room, catching the attention of Alan, still absentmindedly pondering his conversations with Edward and Morgan. He perked up, memories of what occurred in the ritual room flooding back. It was a stark reminder for Alan to switch back to a more royal image.

    The Sceptile kneeled on the ground, bowing her head to the slightly groggy fox. Instead of the simple black robe, she now sported a much thicker well-worn leather cloak. Similar to Alan’s robe, her cloak also featured a fluffy wool collar. It was however much dirtier, a deep uncleanable filth entangled deep within, dyeing the initially white fluff a dirty mix of gray and brown. Multiple holes riddled the tail end of the cloak, years of warring and combat giving her clothing a battle-scarred finish.

    Over the cloak and across her back slung a huge claymore, similar in length to her height. The faint yet unmistakable smell of fresh blood wafted the tip of the unsheathed blade into Alan’s nose, prompting a reaction from the Vulpix.

    “C-celeste? Why do I smell blood? May I ask what you have been up to for the past few hours?”

    Celeste glanced at her claymore before lightly gasping, realizing she had forgotten to clean her blade before entering. “Oh! My deepest apologies, your grace. I was merely training a few rookie guards while you were taking your nap.” She bowed before quickly producing a piece of cloth, and wrapping it around the handle in an attempt to mask the smell of blood.

    “Uh huh… Training…” Alan mused, not willing to pry deeper into her guard’s training regiment, mainly out of fear. “Say, what brings you here anyways, do I need to dismiss you for the day or something?”

    Celeste broke into a light chuckle. “Nothing like that, your grace. I am just here to inform you of tonight’s feast!” she exclaimed, cloak flipping backward grandly. Her booming voice echoed about the entire throne room.

    “Feast? For what reason exactly?” said Alan. “I’ve been back less than a day and barely have any recollection of things, is this truly the best time to be celebrating?”

    Celeste’s eyes seemed to shine in the dying candlelight, her flame of excitement not dampened by Alan’s questioning in the slightest. “Of course it is! Just being graced with your presence once more is a cause for celebration, your Majesty!”

    “U-uh… if that is alright with you then…” Alan replied. His acting so far had been passable, but he didn’t know how long he could keep this up for, especially at a larger social event like a feast where he would most likely be expected to interact with others constantly. “What time is it anyways, how long until the feast is set to begin?”

    “Preparations have already been completed your Majesty, now only your presence is required.” said Celeste, pulling out a cushion similar to the one Alan was resting on. “May I?”

    Alan nodded, wordlessly hopping onto the cushion, curling around his tails. The two of them set off, silently heading down the castle halls. Traveling down the long corridors, Alan noticed an increasing number of Pokemon mulling about, wearing increasingly extravagant clothing.

    The smell of food hit Alan like a truck, a diverse range of colorful aromas surrounded the fox. When was the last time I ate an actual meal? I don’t remember…

    The pair entered the dining room, and Alan could only marvel at the extreme level of opulence offered within. The table stretched across the entirety of the hall, plates and dinnerware perfectly laid out. Each silver knife and fork were polished until they shined against the fresh candlelight populating the walls and table.

    Celeste carried Alan over to his seat at the head of the table. Two massive, conjoined seats sat at the head of the table. One was decorated with only simple, velvet cushions, while the other was nearly covered top to bottom with pink ribbons, intricately twisted into beautiful spirals coiled around the chair.

    As the Everlasting king of Krux the Vulpix was seated at the head of the table, still snugly curled up under his royal dress, the rest of the cabinet and nobles began filing into the dining room.

    Melissa, the queen of Krux, was the first to enter. She barreled down the long hallway, appearing beside Alan, picking him up and violently canoodling him, forgetting he was but a frail little icy Vulpix now.

    “Oh Eddie∼ I’ve missed you sooooo much! You promised you would come back to our room after you were done!” she hollered as she roughly swung the comparatively tiny monarch around. His crown flew off his head, Hikaru snatching the headpiece before it hit the ground.

    “A-Ah Melissa! Please! Put me down! It hurts!”

    “Not until you say sorry for ignoring me you meanie!” the Lurantis replied. She brought Alan into a tight hug, crushing him under the overwhelming weight of her oversized claws.

    Not wanting to cause a scene, Alan only quietly whimpered as he struggled in the grass-type’s grasp. “A-ack! Melissa! I-I’m sorry! Please! You’re hurting me!” he desperately squealed, still trying to keep himself from screaming in pain.

    Melissa, finally satisfied with the answer she received, released the Vulpix. He lay splayed out on his oversized chair, gasping for air. “Haaah… It’s… good to see you too Melissa… Just please… don’t do that again… I’m not the Serperior I once was.”

    “Hmmph! I suppose if you stop being a meanie as well then I won’t hug you as hard next time!” Melissa pouted, childishly bouncing up and down her own chair, one much more fitting of her abnormally large stature in relation to Alan. The King himself settled down alongside the Queen. He climbed back onto his cushion, peeking over the table

    The rest of the royal cabinet seated themselves near the King. Celeste, Hikaru, and Lorenzo were to his left, while Sharron and Astar sat together on his right. Chai and Kirlia seem to have not been invited to the dinner… Alan noticed. It’s too bad, they were the only ones who seemed to actually care about me… he further moaned internally, wistfully staring at the line of nobles, filing in one at a time, seating themselves in their practiced, orderly fashion.

    A few of the nobles, however, did not immediately sit down. They instead carefully approached Alan, head constantly respectfully lowered, quietly shuffling down the hall amidst the chaotic chatter of the rest of Krux’s nobility.

    First in the small group of Pokemon to approach was an Azumarill, body covered with a silk cloth with an impressive sheen. Gold lined the edges, giving what Alan assumed was a silk toga a refined yet extremely expensive finish. Head lowered, he introduced himself. “Your Highness, it is an honor to meet you once more. I have heard of your severe memory loss, but worry not my lord! I am more than overjoyed to be able to introduce myself to you again!”

    The plump blue rabbit paused for a moment, pulling a small metal emblem from inside his robe. He placed it in front of him before continuing. “I am Coniglus, head of major house Melodia. It is a pleasure to be at your service.” he bowed grandly, before returning back to his assigned seat.

    The same sequence of events repeated. A noble would approach, and introduce themselves in a similar fashion to the Azumarill, before returning to their seat. Ampharos Raslan, head of major house Baaken. Swalot Chapla of major house Loricho. Infernape Fotus, heir to major house Avarus. Milotic Thalas of major house Tenat. Alan could barely remember each of their respective houses’ names, let alone their members’ names. He could only pray that any conversation they had he could stumble through without too much trouble.

    After the nobles finished their various introductions, the chatter in the hall began to gradually die down. Melissa, taking notice, roughly nudged the anxious Vulpix. “Psst! Eddie! Ya big doofus! Everyone’s waiting for you!

    “O-oh! Uh… My apologies.” He turned his head, staring down the long table. “Thank you all for attending. Uh… I do not have much to say, other than to please enjoy tonight's course. Without further ado… Waiters! Chefs! Commence the festivities!”

    Simultaneously, every servant stood to attention, scrambling from their positions into the kitchen adjacent to the dining hall. Conversation filled the air once more, nobles discussing various random topics amongst each other.

    An Audino in chef’s whites approached alongside the first wave of dishes that left the kitchen. The fluffy pink Pokemon itself held a dish in both of its paws, pridefully shuffling up beside Alan, presenting him with his first dish.

    After serving the dish, the Audino quickly introduced himself as well as the food in front of Alan. “Your Majesty, allow me to introduce myself. I am Audino Mafira, head royal chef and your personal waiter tonight. In front is the first dish of the night, grilled Tamato berry, served alongside Rawst berry leaf and Bruxish tartare, with Cheri sauce on the side. An appetizer and palette cleanser. Please enjoy” The chef promptly stepped away, allowing Alan to analyze the plate in front of him.

    His dish was absolutely gorgeous, to say the least. Each slice of the blood-red berry was grilled to perfection and carefully stacked on top of one another. A thin layer of pinkish, ground Bruxish meat separated each slice, while the small leaves folded on top gave the plate a nice, minty aroma.

    It’s… beautiful. Looks like some crazy three-star Michelin dish I couldn’t afford back home… Alan thought. His stomach growled, bringing light chuckles from Melissa and Celeste, both also being served a similar dish to his. Here goes nothing…

    His first bite left him without words. Each distinct flavor of the dish exploded out of the Tamato juices that had been simmering under its crunchy, charred skin. The Rawst leaves helped counteract the spiciness of the dish, leaving Alan's mouth completely cooled and refreshed, ready for the next course. Alan finished his first course in only a few minutes, Tamato juice dripping down his cheeks, flushed in satisfaction.

    “A fast eater as always, your Highness” Celeste commented, still slowly enjoying her appetizer, cutting up each slice into smaller pieces, cleanly enjoying each piece before moving on to the next. The others were similar, slowly enjoying their food as opposed to the Vulpix. “Was it to your liking, your Majesty? I hope the spice was not too overpowering for your young body.”

    “Oh, it’s amazing! Do be sure to give Chef Mafira my compliments!” Alan praised. While he may still be acting, his enjoyment of the food was fully genuine. “Now, this seems like the perfect time for casual conversation doesn’t it?”

    Melissa, being the first aside from Alan to finish, took the opportunity to join in. “Awh Eddie~ How you feeling so far in that new body of yours? It’s gotta be hard going from barely two limbs to having four legs doesn’t it?”

    “Well… It’s fair to say it's been somewhat challenging. This body is uncooperative at times, and I feel very fatigued even after walking just a short distance.” he complained, twirling his hair with his paws. “I do believe, however, that my incomplete memories are an unlikely boon to this, helping me adjust to this new form much more rapidly.”

    Lorenzo, also having finished, interjected. “Ehh you’ll get used to it soon. It was weird when I evolved from a Lairon for the first time as well. Cel could tell ya about all the times I’d just fall face-first into the ground.”

    “Hmm, while on the topic of overexertion. Edward, you’ve ought to be more careful with how much you’re overworking. I heard you walked all the way back from the dungeons today? No wonder you are complaining about fatigue! It’s like a 2-hour walk for you!” Sharron scolded, adjusting the Gracidea flower pinned to his body into a more stable position.

    “It’s like nothing’s changed, you're always charging in to do things in person… I’ve reminded you every life and I’ll keep doing so. You’re king! You can delegate things to other people you know? Heck, we’ve taken so much responsibility off your shoulders, and you still find ways to make your own life difficult!”

    “Uh… Y-Yeah… I’ll keep that in mind…”

    “Wait, Eddie… You went to the DUNGEONS???” said Melissa, halfway out of her seat and nearly climbing over on top of Alan. “You didn’t get hurt right?? There’s so many bad Pokemon locked up in there!” She pet Alan with her claws, their size difference and Melissa’s lack of control leading to the pets feeling more like light punches to Alan.

    “No worries Melissa. The prisoner I visited wasn’t like that. Honestly, I’m not even sure why he’s in there, to begin with…” or any other prisoner there really…

    The royal cabinet eyed Alan suspiciously. “Your Majesty… Prisoner A-119 was arrested for murder… He also injured 4 other royal guards during his arrest. I was there to witness it in person, he is dangerous.” said Celeste, the bitterness in her voice growing.

    “I understand Celeste, but please understand his perspective as well. He was forced into doing that, it was between his family and the tax collector. Have you ever considered how the taxes we levy onto the lower class is too heavy?”

    Lorenzo slammed his fist onto the table, a few spoons flying off the table and clattering loudly on the ground. “DON’T YA BLAME MY TAXES FOR THIS, EDWARD! FIFTY PERFECT OF YOUR INCOME IS PERFECTLY REASONABLE FOR THE LOWER CLASS! HE PROBABLY JUST MISMANAGED HIS SAVINGS OR SOMETHING!”

    Before the Aggron could continue, Celeste held up a claw, interrupting the steel-type. “Okay Lorenzo, we get how very… passionate you are when it comes to your duties. But please, refrain from raising your voice like that.” She paused to give a quick side-eye to Alan. “Especially to His Majesty himself.”

    Lorenzo crossed his arms and pouted under his thick steel helmet. Glaring at the now shaken king he shook his head in annoyance, quietly returning to his meal instead.

    That was his reaction?? Alan was completely shocked. I was just testing the waters and I already nearly blew my cover…

    He rubbed his snout in frustration, clearly dismayed by how easy it was to set off both Lorenzo and Celeste. “A- ah no it’s fine. I had forgotten what duties I was responsible for. T-that was clearly me overstepping my boundaries…” he backpedaled, trying to defuse the tense atmosphere that had enveloped his end of the long table.

    “That’s more like it, your Majesty.” Celeste smiled. “I nearly thought you had forgotten your duties all of a sudden.”

    “Hey look! That’s our second course!” said Melissa excitedly, nudging and as a result, nearly knocking over Alan for the third time. The same Audino, chef’s whites slightly more yellowed, reappeared out of the kitchen. In his hands he held an exotically shaped plate, while a smell just as unique wafted over alongside.

    “Your Highness, the second course of the night.” Mafira carefully laid the dish on the table, which due to its unique shape wobbled for a moment, threatening to spill its contents over the pristine white tablecloth. Thankfully, it instead stabilized itself, eliciting a quiet sigh of relief from the Audino.

    “Paras shrooms served on Paras carapace, alongside chopped Rindo berry and grated zest of Kebia berry. A secondary appetizer, and a perfect transition into the upcoming main course.” Mafira cut his bow short as he could hear a few disgruntled shouts originating from the kitchen. He spun back in a panic, nearly tripping as he rushed back to command the chaos escaping the kitchen.

    Discussion picked up again as the rest were served their own plates. Downtrodden, yet determined, Alan motivated himself. It’s ok, that was only one mistake, gotta keep my act up!

    “A-anyways, Celeste! How about telling me more about that recruit training you mentioned?” Alan redirected, wresting back control of the conversation.

    The Sceptile grinned pridefully, slapping the sheath of her claymore. “It was just a normal intensive training session for a few lucky cadets, that is all.”

    “To translate, your grace. It means, simply put, she beat most of our new recruits half to death today.” Hikaru interjected, a tiny smirk forming across his face. He had been silently nibbling away at his food until now, his presence so small to the point where Alan had completely forgotten about the Lucario entirely.

    Celeste glared at the Jackal. “It’s part of the training process! You and I went through it just fine! Why can’t the other recruits do the same then?”

    “There are so many better ways to go about it than sending like them to medical every other day Cel!”

    “They have to learn Hikaru! It isn’t really training until you begin to bleed!”

    “Well, your ‘real training’ keeps costing us all these potential recruits that just quit because they can’t take it anymore!”

    As the two of them bickered Alan turned to ask Melissa. “Do they always fight like that? Should we… stop them?”

    “Ehhh… They’ll tire out eventually… probably…” Melissa shrugged, tone shifting to a more playful one. “Don’t focus too much on them Eddie~. You used to always try to mediate their arguments. A real joy to watch~.”

    Heeding Melissa’s advice he tuned out the squabbling in the background, instead turning his attention to his plate of food. Aside from the Paras carapace used as plating, the dish itself was a basic combination of plump, grilled diced mushrooms surrounded by what seemed like 3 podded green beans. As he slowly dug into the food, he turned his attention back toward the rest of the diners.

    As expected of a social event, most of the nobles were now huddled into small groups, discussing their current political situation with those situated around them. Occasionally a few nobles would shuffle around the room, getting out of their seats in search of other Pokemon to converse with.

    Celeste and Hikaru were still in the middle of their heated argument, the topic at hand now having changed to the optimal allocation of the training budget. Lorenzo, whose expertise in economics was matched by no other cabinet member, also joined in, discussing the possibility of further raising taxes on the middle class to satisfy both Celeste’s and Hikaru’s visions. Sharron and Astar were both out of their seats, entirely ignoring their food and whispering quietly amongst themselves.

    “Eddie? Are you feeling okay? You’ve barely spoken tonight…” Melissa’s tone shifted to one more of worry and concern than the stubbornly confident, bubbly attitude she had been constantly exuding at every moment she was around Alan. “Normally you would be all over everyone’s stuff… All over me…

    She shifted closer towards Alan, her expectant yet delicate tone giving way to a dimmer, more threatening one. “But now you’re just… there. What’s wrong honey? You’re not acting like any Edward I know…

    Alan visibly recoiled at her remark. Am I done? Did I screw up my acting that badly? He feared for the worst.

    “Urk! I uh… n-no dear. It’s just… I-I don’t know Melissa…” His attempt to defuse her suspicion only led to him pulling more of the grass-type’s suspicions on him. He kept fumbling his words, praying for any outs he could find from the Lurantis. “I feel different now. F-Forgive me, I just can’t… can’t muster up that energy anymore. Sorry...”

    The Lurantis hopped over, scooping up Alan and tucking his miniature form into her embrace. It was unexpectedly warm, given her appearance. Alan purred instinctively as Melissa rubbed her claws delicately over his back and head, easing the awkward wall of tension building up between the two monarchs.

    “Oh Eddie… don’t take it like that…” said Melissa, guiltily shrinking back. “I shouldn’t have…

    The main course was served shortly after. A Miltank Tenderloin steak grilled perfectly medium rare, thinly sliced with utmost care and precision. One side of the steak was drizzled in a thick layer of Morelull cream sauce, while a few slices of smoked Tepig salami were piled on the other side. The presentation was beautiful, and its smell even more heavenly.

    Alan continued to dine in relative silence, a few of the nobles attempting to initiate conversation, only to be shooed away by an increasingly defensive Melissa. Another waiter, a silver-horned Indeedee dressed in a matte black suit and tie, cradling a golden bottle of wine, introduced themselves.

    “Good evening, Your Majesties. I shall be your sommelier on this fine evening.” said the Indeedee, his horns glittering as he bowed deeply, the bottle of wine shifting in his grasp but refusing to fall out.

    “I apologize for not introducing myself sooner, I hope you may forgive me for my tardiness. The wines I have chosen for tonight will surely enhance tonight’s feast.”

    His eyes glowed a deep ethereal purple as he uncorked the wine telekinetically. Both the bottle of wine and a jewel-encrusted wineglass floated over, a deep red liquid gracefully poured in along its short journey towards the King and Queen.

    “For the steak, I have picked out a vintage gold Razz Berry wine from the Crino Valley winery in the Asullan region, aged 44G39. A rich, fruity blend of sweetness and alcohol, perfectly counterbalancing the creamy Morelull sauce alongside the fattiness of the steak itself. Please enjoy.”

    Before Alan could reply, the Indeedee scurried away, hurrying over to serve the other guests, leaving the Vulpix in a confused daze, and a half-filled glass of wine sitting in front of him.

    “Uhm… Melissa?” asked Alan, uncertainty leaking through his professional, kingly voice.

    “Yes, dear?”

    “Are you sure I am able to drink this? This body is of a newborn, need I remind you. You should drink this.” answered Alan, sliding the glass over towards Melissa.

    The Lurantis giggled. “Oh Eddie, you silly goofball~” said the mantis, reaching over and grabbing Alan with one claw and the glass of wine with her other.

    The Vulpix squirmed in her claws, his frail newborn body too weak to break free from her grip. “H-huh? Melissa? What are you doing? Could you please put me down?”

    “Don’t be such a downer Eddie. A little wine never hurt anyone~”

    “Melissa?! Melissa!! Put me down! I don’t want to drink this! Please listen to m-mmmm mmph!” The ice type was silenced as the glass of wine was shoved into his muzzle. A small amount dripped out of the glass and onto his fur, but most of the liquid stayed trapped in the glass.

    Alan held his breath for as long as he could, swiping at Melissa’s claws, desperately hoping she would change her mind and free him. But her grip only strengthened, keeping the glass locked tightly on Alan’s face.

    Time was running out, and he was running out of options. He tried to cry for help, but only gurgles came out as the wine began to fill his mouth. The taste was sweet and mellow, unlike any alcohol he had ever tasted in his human life. But that didn't matter, he could feel himself nearing his limit. He needed air, badly.

    So, he relented, quickly gulping down the wine as quickly as he could. The alcohol burned his throat as it traveled down, tears welling up at the same time. As soon as he was done the Lurantis dropped him back down, Alan gasping desperately for air.

    “What the hell was that for?!?” he screamed, grabbing the attention of every cabinet member aside from Astar and Sharron, who were away on the other side of the hall, interacting with the nobles. “No means no Melissa! I nearly drowned just now!” Alan’s face flustered a bright cherry red, through both a combination of rage as well as the alcohol he had just downed.

    Melissa shrank away, in shock at Alan’s assumedly unexpected reaction. “B-but… the wine was good right…?”

    “That doesn’t matter! I didn’t want to drink it, and you tried to drown me in it! You-” Alan was about to lay down further upon the Lurantis, but she was already on the brink of tears. I can’t stay mad at her… She’s excessive and impulsive, and downright annoying a lot of the time, but I just can’t stay angry… Another effect of Edward’s influence, I suppose…

    “I… Look dear, I’m not mad, okay? Please… don’t cry.” Alan could feel himself losing control of his emotions as well. He had only drank a single glass-full, but given his size and physical age it was pretty much guaranteed he was drunk already.

    “Y-you’re not angry?” stammered Melissa through the tears welling up in her goggled eyes.

    “Not anymore. Let’s just… forget that happened and-” Alan struggled to balance himself, the alcohol quickly taking effect. His vision blurred as he tumbled over, barely able to catch the table and stabilize himself. “Ugh… This is why I didn’t want to drink it, Melissa. I think it’s pretty fortunate I haven’t passed out by now.”

    “Your Majesty? Shall I assist you in retiring to your bed-chamber? You seem quite… unwell.” asked Hikaru, his argument with Celeste and Lorenzo having been broken up by Alan’s sudden outburst.

    “Ah don’t worry about it. Just like, let me chill out a bit and I’m golden.”

    The Lucario raised an eyebrow at that remark. “Pardon, your grace?”

    “O-oh!” Suspicion was growing, and Alan knew it. “I-I simply meant not to worry about me, I am well.”

    “Very well, Your Highness.”

    The feast continued, and the rest of the cabinet returned to their usual, interacting with nobles or with each other. Alan was struggling to stay conscious himself, barely able to stomach the rest of his steak.

    “Your Majesty? If I may introduce your second main course.” The chef’s intrusion pulling the drunken Vulpix out of his daze. The Audino held a plate, on it a small mountain of crispy golden wings lay stacked atop one another, and at the base of the mound surrounded a black, featureless cream, drizzled with a glossy yellow sauce.

    “Wuh? Huh? O-oh sure… go ahead.”

    “For your fourth dish, Marinated and Fried Archen wings on ground Pincurchin, coated in a sweet Sitrus berry sauce. Enjoy.” recited the Audino.

    Gruesome images of the Archen he encountered in the dungeons resurfaced. Its dead, unmoving eyes and hanging body, softly swaying over a pool of its own dried blood. It sickened Alan now more than ever.

    “Wait!” Alan blurted out before the Audino could turn away and flee back into the kitchen. “Did you say… Fried Archen?

    “Y-yes your grace. Is something wrong?”

    “And where were these Archen sourced from?”

    “Uh… I am unable to answer that, your Majesty. The sincerest of apologies.”

    “So there’s a chance…” Alan mumbled to himself. “Uh… disregard that. You are dismissed.”

    Alan reflected on what had occurred over the past few hours. What am I doing here? Enjoying myself… Indulging in all this… Luxury… I shouldn’t be here. I should be helping Morgan. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be here...

    You shouldn’t be here, Alan.” a voice rang out nearby.

    Alan, in a panic, whirled his body around, a few utensils clattering on the ground as he desperately searched for the source of the new voice. “W-who’s there! Show yourself!”

    A translucent Archen materialized atop his plate, staring down at the distressed Vulpix with a disappointed frown. “I’m here Alan. You recognize me, dont you?

    “No… You’re not real! You’re just an illusion! A hallucination! What are you?! W-what do you want from me?!?”

    The ethereal Archen only chuckled in response, jumping off the plate and landing behind Alan.

    “Get away from me! I have nothing to give you!”

    I may not be real, but the sins of your past are. You cannot hide. You cannot run. Give up, Alan and Edward.” The Archen's image warped, eyes bleeding a void-black liquid. It shifted in size, towering over the panicking Vulpix. Multiple tendrils sprouted from its misshapen neck, slowly approaching where Alan stood, each repeating the same two words:

    Give up.

    Give up.


    Give up.

    Alan backed away from the bird, slipping off his seat and onto the floor. “No… No! Please! I don’t want to die!” he cried, curling up with his paws covering his ears, but that didn’t drown out the Archen’s words, echoing endlessly in his mind.

    Give up.

    Give up.


    GIVE UP.

    Celeste was the first of the cabinet to notice Alan’s distress. “Your Majesty? Are you alright?”

    The Sceptile’s words were ignored, the Vulpix much too far in his drunken panic to reply. Glancing over to Sharron for an explanation. The Shaymin had already rushed over to inspect the trembling monarch.

    “No… go away… don’t touch me…” Alan weakly whimpered as Sharron placed his paw upon the trembling fox. Sky-blue rings encircled both the Shaymin’s paws as well as Alan's, hypnosis cast to quieten down the Vulpix. The Sceptile stepped in, gently scooping a now unconscious Alan, and wrapping him up with her cloak.

    “Astar! Sharron! Explain!” Celeste seethed, keeping her voice hushed so as to not grab the attention of the nobles. “What did you two do with him!?!”

    “I warned you about this, Cel!” Sharron snapped back, raising his voice only a minuscule amount louder than Celeste’s. “He’s mentally unstable! He probably has some memory of what happened repressed somewhere. I told you the ritual was a bad idea!”

    “You said the chances were low!”

    “And would ya look at that! We hit the jackpot! Congratulations!” Sarcasm bled from his tone as he stormed off, leaving the rest of the cabinet to deal with their unconscious ruler.

    “Ugh! That fucker!” the Sceptile spat. She hastily removed her cloak, swaddling Alan tightly before passing him over to Melissa. “Take him to your room, he probably just needs some rest. I’m going after that little shithead.”

    She slung her claymore over her back, storming off after the Shaymin. Melissa, left paralyzed after the events of the past few minutes, was escorted out through a joint effort between Hikaru and Lorenzo.

    “Was this… was this all my fault?” Melissa cried as she rocked Alan back and forth. “I… I just wanted you to be happy for once Eddie… I love you… P-Please forgive me… I missed you so much… Please…” The Lurantis’s crying echoed down the hallways for hours after, only quieting down as the mantis tired, cuddling Alan as she collapsed into a deep sleep as well.



    [Next chapter will be posted on 22/1/24]
     
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    Chapter 7 - Diminishing Aptitudes
  • Turkeyuwu

    Rhythm Gamer
    Location
    Thailand
    Pronouns
    He/Him | They/Them
    Chapter 7 - Diminishing Aptitudes

    Alan was running. From what he did not know, nor did he want to know. Only that he needed to keep on running.

    His surroundings were eerily quiet, the foggy darkness muffling any and all noise around him. He could barely hear his own desperate pants as his legs slowly began to give way.

    A few moments later the murky darkness that surrounded him parted, revealing the monster chasing him. Alan instinctively turned, his golden pupils trembling with fear as he eyed the beast behind him.

    His eyes lit up in recognition. He remembered. Remembered what had gone down the night before, his futile resistance against Melissa, the Archen… whatever it was. It was still chasing him, even now in the barren wasteland of the subconscious he found himself in once more.

    The Archen was near unrecognizable to Alan now, every pore on its body leaking pitch-black liquid. Its neck broken, twisted into impossible shapes, void tendrils having replaced its feathers, squirming relentlessly, occasionally poking out in an archaic attempt to stab the Vulpix.

    “Stay away!” he shouted as he dodged and weaved around every tendril that came his way. “Please! I didn’t do anything wrong! Just leave me alone! I beg of you!”

    Hehe! He’s begging for mercy already~” a mocking voice rang out ahead of him.

    “Huh?? Who's there?” Alan skidded to a halt, his whole body turning to the source of the sound, tails raised in alarm.

    Another voice to his left spoke in a deeper, more intimidating tone. “You have no power here, human. Give up. Let us assimilate you.

    It is too late to atone for your sins, Alan” another voice asserted, even closer to Alan this time.

    The voices continued to echo around, surrounding the snowy Vulpix, intimidated and petrified in fear. Each successive voice was louder, closer, more threatening.

    It won’t hurt for long~

    We are the solution, not the problem, Alan.

    Let us save you, little one~

    “N-no! Go away!” Alan pleaded. He backed away from the closest voice, only to feel his feet rooted to the ground. Before he could react, more pitch-black tendrils shot out of the ground, wrapping around his torso and tails. They worked in unison, turning Alan to face the void Archen.

    Unable to move, Alan was left with only his words to try and save him. “L-listen to me! Please! I-I don’t know what I’ve done! I’ve j-just been dragged around! I’m a victim, not a criminal! Please! You have to believe me!” he cried, his futile attempt at negotiation unheard by the being in the void.

    It blankly stared down at the entangled Vulpix, emitting a shrill cry that temporarily deafened the crying fox. The darkness spilling from its mouth and eyes coagulated into a fleshy, jet-black mass, steadily approaching Alan as it kept on growing in size.

    Alan shrieked. He desperately struggled against his binds, only to find them wrapped around him even harder. As the blob grew in size, the space around the mound began to warp, pulling Alan ever closer to the darkness approaching.

    They collided, liquid from the blob seeping into Alan’s paws and legs. His veins pulsed, desperately trying to reject the corrupting liquid that engulfed his entire lower half.

    Pain shot all around as he felt his ethereal body begin to crumble against the restraints. It felt like his skin was boiling, like every single bone in his legs shattering simultaneously. Through his cries of pain, the darkness pressed on, thin tendrils snaking up to his neck, crisscrossing over his entire body, enveloping his vision in darkness.

    Is this my punishment? For some crime I didn’t commit? What did you… what did I do Edward? Alan thought. He felt his strength slip away, the throbbing pain nullifying the last of Alan’s struggles.

    I’m sorry Necrozma… I wasn’t prepared to die like this…

    It suddenly felt cold. The pain was immediately numbed as a deafening rush of wind restored Alan’s vision. He weakly looked up at the being staring down at him. The Archen that was once there was now replaced by jet-black crystals, floating nonchalantly over the dying fox.

    Alan tried to call out, but his throat lacked strength. The crystalline dragon only shook his head in response, a golden ball of energy forming on his claws as he reached down, growing into a whirlpool of warmth that enveloped the Vulpix.

    His breathing stabilized, and Alan found his strength had partially recovered. He stood, legs wobbling as he limped closer to his savior.

    “W-what was-”

    Monsters. Monsters of the subconsciousness. The same ones that have kept me imprisoned for millennia

    “Huh??”

    They found you in the conscious realm, and when you were knocked out they dragged you into their mental realm. ” Necrozma’s tone was consistent, giving Alan no indication of his true emotions or intentions. “Though, it disappoints me you were unable to defend yourself against just a single one.

    Alan’s ears perked up. That was one?? I nearly died to one monster??

    You are correct, there will be many more along your journey. I advise you to prepare accordingly. ” Necrozma warned, shifting closer to Alan and picking up the fox with a single claw of his oversized hands. “We are returning to your mental realm, I shall answer the rest of your questions there.

    With a flick of his wrists, Alan’s surroundings crumbled, his form collapsing and reducing him to a conscious speck of dust. He couldn’t see but he knew he was in motion, and as such he relaxed his metaphorical body and allowed Necrozma to carry him home.

    When his vision returned Alan found himself back at the head of the same rounded, wooden table that stood the last time he was in this realm. He stared up at Necroza, confused yet grateful.

    Necrozma’s body looked lighter, his image flickering ever so slightly against the darkened background. The fog in the distance, shifting around gracefully, had ever so slightly more clarity to it, Alan noticed.

    “What… what was any of that….” asked Alan, unable to properly process what had just occurred.

    You are now in the relative safety of your mental realm. No subconsciousness monsters will attack you here.

    Alan, trusting Necrozma’s assertion relaxed slightly. He curled up, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. It’s okay… It’s okay… I’m safe now. I think…

    “So… what exactly happened back there? How close was I to dying?”

    You were near completely assimilated, it is fortunate that I have spent enough time around these monsters that I have developed a near-perfect understanding of their inner mechanisms, and was able to return you to your previous, unharmed form.” boasted Necrozma, his chromatic eyes pulsing a rainbow of colors in pride.

    “Thanks…” Alan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Where do they come from anyways? I remember it showing up after Melissa forced me to drink that wine.”

    They are a constant danger in the conscious world, appearing at times of mental weakness. Your mental fortitude must remain strong to defend against them, or your situation will repeat” Necrozma stressed, a smidge of genuine care leaking past his cold, smug tone.

    “I don’t get it, honestly. What do they even want from me anyways? They kept repeating about the sins me and Edward have committed.” He paused for a moment to observe Necrozma’s reaction. His projection only flickered for a moment, eyes lit a constant green color. “I know of all the shit Edward’s done over the past few centuries, but what about me? What did I do to deserve this?”

    Necrozma stayed silent for an unusually long period of time, as if he was mulling over the responses to give to the Vulpix.

    You are, simply put, misinterpreting their words. Your actions in your human life have no effect on the monster’s judgment. It is simply your association with me that has painted a target upon your head.

    Alan stared down at his paws. Is this struggle really worth it? Just what am I risking my life for?

    “But why do they hate you in specific so much?” asked Alan.

    It is a long tale, one I have neither the time nor the interest to retell. ” Necrozma deadpanned, flicking his claws around dismissively. “ Knowledge of my past actions and my current fate are of no use to you, irrelevant and impossible to comprehend.

    Alan only stared back at Necrozma, unenthused. “Considering how according to you the only reason I’m being hunted down is due to me working for you, I think whatever beef you had with them is pretty important Necrozma.”

    Necrozma’s stance changed, towering even further above the Vulpix. Even as a projection the pressure he exuded was enough to knock Alan onto his knees.

    Do not question my motives, human. ” he snarled, irritation mixed into his deep, overpowering tone. “ You are to obediently complete my tasks, not to challenge my authority and wisdom. Do I make this clear?

    The ever-increasing pressure crushed Alan’s lungs, preventing him from breathing. He felt tears form in his eyes as his knees gave out, his torso pressed hard onto the ground. “Ack… S-Stop… I’m s-sorry!”

    Necrozma relented, Alan was his only servant after all. “Foolish curiosity only serves to hinder your growth.” he warned, lowering himself back to his original position.

    Alan was left sprawled on the ground, panting heavily. It’s pretty obvious he’s not giving me the full truth… I want to know more, but at this rate, I’m going to be killed before I piece together the full story…

    “Okay… Fine… I won’t ask about that anymore. But could you at least teach me how to fight? Ever since I hatched all I’ve been able to do in a fight is get beat up or knocked out…” said the Vulpix as he lifted himself back up, patting his body and checking for any injuries he may have sustained.

    Necrozma stared at Alan in silence, seemingly bewildered at his request. “It is simply unbelievable how low your aptitude for battling is, ” complained Necrozma. “ And it seems any instinct carried over from your vessel seems to have been nearly fully lost as well...

    The exasperated god shook his head in disappointment. His projection began to flicker slightly harder.

    Very well. Your request shall be honored.

    With a snap of his claws, the terrain shifted once more. The table that once stood behind Alan melted away. Instead, an assortment of marble stands faced the Vulpix. On each stand stood a sculpture, similar to Edward’s sculpture during his first encounter with Necrozma.

    Alan flinched, stumbling backward away from the statues. Why… Why are they here?!? No… He wouldn’t… would he?

    Five figures, in particular, stood out to Alan. A Sceptile, Aggron, Lurantis, Lucario, and Breloom, members of the royal cabinet replicated with excruciating detail.

    “N-Necrozma?” Alan stammered, eyes sweeping around, attempting to locate the psychic type. “Don’t… Don’t leave me with them! Y-you said you would train me! Please! I ne–”

    A stream of rocks barreled out from somewhere in between the figurines, catching Alan by surprise, and flinging him into the center of the encirclement of statues.

    The marble Sceptile, a perfect replica of Celeste, slowly began to animate itself, unsheathing its claymore, lowering itself into an offensive stance, glaring at the Vulpix, ready to attack at any moment.

    “I– Necrozma please… Listen to me! I-I can’t! I don’t know how–”

    The Sceptile lunged, their claymore arcing through the air. Alan, unprepared, was unable to properly dodge in time. Pain coursed through his body as the rocky blade smashed directly into his hind legs.

    “Grah! Necrozma! Cut it out! I don’t know how to fight!”

    The sword narrowly missed to his left. A tail swinging on the right, just barely missing his feet as he jumped away. The Sceptile’s attacks were relentless, Alan barely being able to dodge each one. He bounced away, desperately thinking of any way to stop the stony beast.

    Your dodging is impressive, but it seems it is insufficient to truly unlock your growth. An easy problem to resolve.” Necrozma’s voice echoed about the impromptu arena, eliciting a reaction from an increasingly frustrated Vulpix.

    “H-huh?! What do you mean by that?!? Come back!” Alan repeated between his fatigued panting. “I don’t know what to do!”

    As he clumsily dodged another swing from his opponent’s weapon, Alan noticed a flicker of movement from his left.

    Alan’s head flicked away for a split second as his ears twitched, noticing a faint rumbling off in the distance. What was that? Another Sta-

    “Oof!”

    The blade slammed square into Alan’s head. More pain coursed through his body, his head smashing into the ground, followed by the rest of his body as multiple obsidian-black claws slashed directly into his entire body.

    More pain erupted from his sides, further pushing him towards unconsciousness. The rumbling increased in volume and intensity, yet in his daze, Alan failed to notice.

    He sluggishly rolled away, barely enough to dodge another strike from the Sceptile. For a moment, the rumbling quieted. The Sceptile seemed to back away slightly, unwilling to continue attacking.

    The rumbling returned for a split second, now directly before him instead. Before Alan could react, however, the ground beneath him collapsed, his entire body enveloped by the ground as a similar-sized hole swallowed him whole.

    A split second later, a massive spire of glowing pale blue rock thrust out, smashing into Alan’s lower back. A nasty crunch was audible as Alan felt several of his bones shatter. He cried out in pain, yet nothing more than a dry squeal could be heard, all the air in his lungs knocked out by the impact.

    He landed a few feet away, completely still. It felt like he should be unconscious, him losing all control of his body. Yet he remained awake, incapacitated and reeling in pain, but still awake nonetheless.

    The Sceptile approached, joined alongside by a new figure. An Aggron trailed shortly behind, maliciously grinning at the incapacitated Vulpix.

    Alan could do nothing but wait for his inevitable demise. He was spent, unable to even look up at his opponents, all his energy drained away. Tears formed, him silently pleading for a quick end to his suffering.

    As the pair of animated marble approached, however, their movements began to slow down, eventually entirely halting mere feet away from Alan.

    Through his teary vision, he could see the life drain out of the eyes of the two combatants. Slowly, the two replicas began to crumble, dissipating back into the surrounding fine mist.

    Disappointing. ” Necrozma sighed. “Your capabilities have been tested, your limits pushed. Now stand. I will demonstrate how to unlock your true potential.

    Warm golden light enveloped Alan, mending broken bones and soothing frayed nerves. It provided him the energy to stand up once more.

    Alan looked around hastily, attempting to locate Necrozma in the sea of statues that were now present on the field.

    “Necrozma wait!” Alan shouted, picking a random spot in the sky to scream at. “Why won’t you just explain what the hell is going on?!?”

    It is simple, you requested my help in teaching you the art of combat, and I simply obliged.

    Alan turned red with rage from Necrozma’s response “Is this what you call teaching?!? Disappearing into thin air and watching your helpless student get his shit kicked in?!?”

    Do not question my methods, human. Have I not already established that all my actions are of mutual benefit to the both of us?Necrozma’s voice boomed across the dreamscape, clearly irritated yet still maintaining status and formality.

    I have transferred some of what little power I retained into you. You are now my blessed, and as such, a mental link will suffice for communication for the time being.

    “I… I don’t… Okay…” Alan relented. It’s not worth really picking a fight with him… I just hope it won’t hurt more than this…

    Excellent.

    A tiny projection of Necrozma, only a few inches tall, appeared beside Alan. He looked around for a moment, finding a suitable spot for him to rest before landing on Alan’s left shoulder.

    Listen closely, I will not repeat this twice, ” Necrozma said, his voice still originating from somewhere inside Alan’s head instead of from the projection balancing on his shoulder. “Pokemon, unlike humans, utilize what are called ‘moves’ in combat.

    “No, I mean… I get all this ‘moves’ stuff.” Alan interrupted. “Every Pokemon has a learnset and moveset, they can learn more moves as they level up yadda yadda. What I don’t understand is how to use them. I’ve accidentally used them but… I don’t even know…” He palmed his face with his paws, hiding his face away in frustration.

    “I was scared, I-I thought he was going to kill me… It doesn’t make any sense! I can’t control it!” Alan cried into the void, thrashing about in frustration.

    Your instincts do not align with your body, a small amount of practice should easily resolve your issue.” The gem-encrusted deity waved his arms, adeptly weaving the nearby mist into clumps, shaping them into what looked like a training dummy of sorts.

    Using a move is simple, but doing such excessively will strain your body. The objective of this exercise is to train your body in an environment where overexertion is but a mere afterthought.

    Alan stared at the dummy in front, unsure of what to do.

    Focus upon a part of the sculpture, form a mental image of your opponent. Focus on yourself, and form a mental image of your inside machinations.

    Alan focused on the featureless head of the dummy. His pupils dilated, helping his mind internally recreate every detail with pinpoint accuracy.

    He focused in on himself, imagining the blood that flowed around his body, the air he breathed in as it traveled in and out his lungs, his muscles flexing and relaxing with every slight shift in posture.

    An undefinable coolness surfaced, a mote of ice within the ocean that constituted his body. He kept focusing on it, the internal ice growing with each passing second. One moment, it was a snowflake, then an ice cube, a snowball, an iceberg, a glacier.

    His golden eyes glowed a vibrant sky blue as he welcomed the cold, allowing it to permeate through his body. It worked its way up his body, a lump forming in his frozen mouth.

    Now return your attention to the sculpture, visualize it again. Imagine your energy clashing with theirs. Retain that sensation, reimagine it, then replicate it.

    Alan winced slightly as he felt the lump grow. It sharpened itself, lightly piercing into the roof of his mouth as it rotated to face outwards. He envisioned it piercing into the dummy’s head, the explosion that would follow, and what remained after impact.

    His mouth snapped open, a massive shard of ice flying out. It whistled as it sailed through the air, smashing into the dummy’s head with pinpoint accuracy. The icicle exploded, tiny shards of ice raining down alongside the ruined remains of the now headless training dummy.

    Alan shook his head in disbelief. Did I just do that?!?

    He turned his head around, expectantly staring at Necrozma still lounging on his shoulder, a small prideful smirk forming on his face

    That was… acceptable, at least. Your ice shard was slow to shoot, but it was well-formed, and its power… decent enough. Each move has a unique sensation, changing certain parameters in your imagination leads to different moves. With enough repetition, casting moves will become more instinctual. Well done.

    Necrozma floated back up into the air, imitating a slow golf clap. Mist gathered on both sides, coagulating together to reform the Sceptile and Aggron in an instant.

    Let us resume the battle.

    Without hesitation, the pair of Pokemon rushed at Alan, their claws gliding across the air in perfect sync. Alan dodged backward, remaining fully vigilant, eyes completely focused on his opponents.

    Two more lumps formed in his mouth, slowly coalescing into more ice shards. The Aggron hopped backward, casting a flurry of stealth rocks that dug into the surrounding battleground.

    The Sceptile stayed within striking distance, nimbly weaving through the minefield of pointed rocks with ease as it repeatedly swung at Alan.

    A strike to the left. Barely any time to recover. Another strike to the right. It was relentless, Alan barely able to weave in between each swing.

    Just a little more! My ice shards… they’re nearly ready!

    The claymore swung overhead, Alan sidestepping left at the last moment. The blade grazed his left side while pointed rocks dug into his right. Pain surged, yet the rushing adrenaline kept his gaze steady upon his targets.

    He took aim at the Sceptile, back hunched as it struggled to pull out its sword embedded deep into the ground next to Alan. Two identical icy diamonds burst out, only flying for a split second as they both nailed the Sceptile directly in the head. It tumbled backward, collapsing onto the ground with a resounding thud.

    “Hell yeah! I did it!” Alan cheered. “Necrozma! How was tha-”

    His celebration was cut short as he was picked up and slammed into the ground. Rocks rained down from above simultaneously, pinning the Vulpix under a thick layer of solid rock.

    Lesson one, the battle is never over. Never celebrate too early

    The rock shattered, leaving Alan gasping for air as he tried to recuperate. The Aggron had backed off once more. Its horns glowed as the nearby mist swirled around the steel dinosaur. The mist transformed into fine sand, a sandstorm descending upon the battlefield.

    Alan squinted, his vision now entirely obscured by the raging sandstorm. A few moments passed without any retaliation. The sand scraped against his skin, building up around the edge of his eyelids as well.

    A metal leg extended out of the storm, its outline visible for just a fraction of a second, clobbering Alan’s left side. He held back his pained scream as another ice shard grew.

    Lesson two, an invisible opponent is like an assassin. Know your opponent’s location, obscure your own position.

    Alan bolted away, using the howling winds around him to aid his movement. He peered into the murky brown that painted his surroundings. A blurry outline stood a few feet away, slowly approaching.

    The shadow darkened. Alan bounced into the air to avoid another blow. Another ice shard whistled through the air, smashing into the shadow directly below him. He held back his celebration, anticipating another attack.

    The sandstorm weakened, revealing the target of his strike.

    “H-huh?” Alan gasped. What should have been the crumbling body of an animated Aggron sculpture, there instead laid a pile of hardened sand, with an icicle defiantly sticking out.

    Lesson three, the truth is all but irrelevant in battle. Misdirection is the key to success.

    Heeding Necrozma’s advice, Alan turned around. Just in time to notice another kick heading in his direction. He rolled away, the Aggron whiffing and stumbling over itself.

    He cast a retaliatory ice shard, yet it harmlessly bounced off the Aggron’s thick armor. It was unfazed by the Vulpix’s pitiful attack.

    Lesson four, no singular strategy will be executed seamlessly. Improvise, adapt, overcome.

    Alan took Necrozma’s words into deep consideration. An ice shard is just a chunk of ice with a sharp edge. So, I could repeatedly attack it over and over… or break my single attack into multiple tiny attacks and wear it down… Alan’s ears perked up as an idea surfaced in his mind.


    He formed another ice shard in his mouth, focusing on its size rather than shape. Instead of firing, however, he instead bit down upon the ball of ice, shattering it into hundreds of tiny shards. He continued to grind down the ice, reverting it back into snow. Powder snow huh… I’ll remember that…

    Alan collapsed to the ground, the previous attack had drained the last of the energy Necrozma had provided him with. Through his own labored breathing, he heard… clapping?

    Excellent. It seems you indeed still retain some ability to utilize moves in battle. Perhaps you may be a better servant than my initial assumption.

    Necrozma’s eyes shone with a brighter gleam than ever before. Internally, he was truly amazed. Even with his blessing, no Pokémon should be able to cast such devastating attacks at such an age.

    He waved his arms, tendrils of light shooting out of his fingertips and onto Alan, enveloping his body in the same revitalizing glow as before.

    Our time is almost up, but before such I shall grant you one more skill. It has been eons since anyone has received my blessing. Stand, I have one final skill to teach you.

    Alan followed wordlessly. Even though his body was once again fully energized, his mind was too exhausted to question Necrozma any longer.


    Envision the cold forming within you, once more. Now imagine the warmth… my warmth, surrounding your ice. Let my warmth, my light flow through you. Allow it to overrule you, to control you, to overwhelm you.

    Alan relaxed, letting the power that had been subconsciously gated from entering begin to mix into his system. He felt the energy flowing around his veins, concentrating into viscous mulch as more of Necrozma’s light began to flow through him.

    The air around him was getting warmer, the nearby fog swirling and converging onto a single point above him. The point glowed, rapidly expanding outwards as more and more gas began swirling inwards.

    I must warn you, this move is draining to the both of us. Your body, even with my blessing, is only capable of withstanding its immense power briefly. Use it as your final move. Ensure nothing survives it.

    Alan felt the energy that coated him begin to dissolve, flowing away from him through tendrils of light, similar to how they were gifted to him by Necrozma. They joined the fog swirling into the ball of flames, now similar in size to Alan.

    “Wha- h-huh??”

    Countless centuries of trial and error have culminated to this very moment. I have perfected it… my magnum opus! My… ” Necrozma quietened as he marveled at the ever-growing sphere of pure fire and light, so large it now matched his own massive stature.

    The resplendent ball of flames destabilized. Spikes of pure golden fire shot out, charring the ground beneath. Alan screamed, the heat was overwhelming. His fur was singed, sweat and tears vaporizing in an instant. The entire dreamscape began to shake as it struggled to contain Alan’s power.

    “Now! My blessed being! Behold the true potential of our combined strength! Light that burns the sky!

    The attack slipped from Alan’s control. The recoil flung him a distance backward, away from the impact zone. Necrozma stood, laughing maniacally as the attack he had pioneered for so long uncontrollably hurtled towards him.

    “What’s going on?!? N-necrozma! Help!”

    Before it could make contact his image faded away, the move having taken too much of a toll for his projection to continue existing. The shaking intensified, cracks forming on the ground around Alan, trapping him.

    Alan watched tiredly as the light that burns the sky smashed into the ground. It stayed relatively stable, the intense heat radiating off it instead vaporizing the ground below, allowing the fireball to slowly sink into the ground.

    A few moments passed in pure, breathless silence. The rumbling had subsided, and the fireball entirely sunken into the ground.

    Alan couldn’t even breathe a sigh of relief before the rumbling started once again. The cracks around the buried move widened, radiant rays of light shooting out of the exposed ground.

    The fireball collapsed, the rock encasing it splitting. A brilliant flash of golden light poured into the barren dreamscape, instantly blinding Alan. Even without sight, he could sense his surroundings collapsing into themselves. He curled into a ball, bracing for impact as the ground below him opened up, plunging him into the desolate nothingness below.



    There was a relatively large amount of spacing and formatting issues while copying this chapter over from Ao3. I tried to fix all the ones I could spot but may have missed a few along the way. Sorry about that!

    [Next chapter will be posted 29/1/24]
     
    Chapter 8 - Aces Wild
  • Turkeyuwu

    Rhythm Gamer
    Location
    Thailand
    Pronouns
    He/Him | They/Them
    Chapter 8 - Aces Wild
    A lone Haxorus sat at a near-empty table, hidden away in the back corner of a drunken tavern. The rowdy, chaotic atmosphere of his surroundings almost let him blend in with the darkness that permeated the back side, almost silent in relation to the front areas.

    The dragon fiddled with his gem-tipped horns, he seemed to be expecting another. The dealer, a Nuzleaf, eyed the Haxorus impatiently as he continued shuffling a deck of cards off-mindedly.

    To his left, bolts of lightning shot out. A yellow lightning-shaped tail materialized, followed shortly by the rest of the yellow feline’s body, face hidden away with a cloak draped overhead.

    The Zeraora bowed, unbuckling his cloak in the process. He wore a simple leather jacket, upper rim topped with blue-dyed Dubwool fur. A pair of aviators hung in his left pocket, having taken them off just before entering the dimly lit bar.

    Haxorus Sho beamed with pleasure, his guest had finally arrived.

    “Aye Sho!” the Zeraora flicked his paws out in a friendly gesture of sorts. “Finally free enough to listen in on my goods for once eh?”

    “It’s indeed been a while hasn’t it, Teshin?” Sho smirked, polishing his horns casually with a small handkerchief attached to his left pocket. “I assume you’re not just here to tell me of common rumors you picked up across the street?”

    “Come on bro! You know better than anyone that my shit is legit!” Teshin crossed his arms, hurt by Sho’s comments. “Literally haven’t told anyone else about this either, you better be grateful!”

    “I merely jest, Teshin. A leader of the Republic scouts brigade is bound to come across information most prime for picking.” Sho chuckled. He pulled off a white cloth resting on the table, revealing a tall pile of chips beneath. A similar piece of cloth remained draped over a drastically smaller pile of chips on the opposite side of the table.

    “Come, join me in a game of poker. I even restored your balance to what they were prior to our last meeting~”

    Teshin’s expression turned sour. He stood in front of his pile of chips, reluctance painted across his face. Memories of the utter thrashing the Haxorus gave him last they played resurfaced in his mind.

    “I don’t-”

    “Oh, but you do! For a professional in the spy business, your facial expressions are oddly easy to read.” Sho joked. “You want revenge. You want to finally win back all that money you put in over the years~”

    “Ugh…”

    The Haxorus reached over and plucked the cloth off Teshin’s stack of chips, playfully dangling it in front of the Zeraora’s electrified whiskers.

    “Fine! I’ll play your damn game. Happy?” Teshin spat. He grabbed the nearest chair, sliding it over to sit directly opposite the smiling Haxorus.

    “Excellent.” Sho gestured to the Nuzleaf. “Thank you for your patience, Mr. Dealer. We are ready to begin.”

    The suited Nuzleaf sprang into action. It flicked four cards across the table, a pair of cards to each player. Three more cards lay face down in front of the grass type.

    Teshin moved, laying an oversized paw on the table, concealing his hand as he checked it with his other paw. King of Spades and Queen of Hearts.

    “I’m just gonna skip the rest of the fluff, alright?” said Teshin, keeping his eyes locked on his cards. His expression darkened. “My hunch was correct. The king is still alive, but…”

    “But what?” Sho replied expectantly. He stared inquisitively at the feline, not even bothering a peek at his cards.

    “All of our planning is fucked Sho. They already found him. Saw it with my own two eyes. He’s back, and he’s with them.” Teshin growled, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

    Sho only replied with a light, dismissive chuckle. He finally looked down at his cards, the smile on his face widening as he nonchalantly threw out 750 Gs worth of chips. A tiny dent in his pile, yet still a massive amount of money to bet with such little care.

    The Zeraora shook his head in annoyance.

    “A couple of my scouts I placed near the castle and noble districts also reported back a change of schedule. Every noble is leaving for the castle, and workers are being brought in and consolidated in the palace.”

    Teshin looked down at his hand once more, a smirk breaking through.

    “Call.”

    Sho raised an eyebrow, his eyes brightening in both shock and glee. “Oh? No re-raise? That’s awfully unlike you Tesh…”

    “Tch. I’m impulsive, but I’m not insane, Sho. Did you forget we’re playing ten-twenty?”

    The dealer flipped the cards that lay in front of them. A King of Hearts, a Three of Clubs, and an Ace of Diamonds.

    Huh… odd…

    It felt off, almost. Teshin had flopped second pair, yet he still felt uncertain about the strength of his own hand. With such a strong opening bet from the Haxorus, who knew the sorts of hands that cunning Haxorus could be holding?

    Or maybe it was something else… Could it be…? That creeping feeling inside was growing worse.

    “I’m sure you’re smart enough to know what I’m alluding to here…” Teshin sighed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

    Bitterly gnashing his teeth, he continued. “It’s all out the window now, Sho. Our entire plan revolved around finding him first! We’re screwed! What are we suppo–”

    “Calm.” Sho held his claws out at the Zeraora’s face, interrupting him. “Have you no faith in my planning? Did you truly believe the plan would crumble at such simple matters?”

    The Zeraora only covered his face with his paws in response. Deep breaths Tesh… You can’t be breaking down like this… Not again…

    He reached over, grabbing a drink set aside for him. Whiskey. On the Rocks. His throat burned as he downed the entire glass in one fell swoop. It distracted him, kept the overwhelming stress at bay, and let him regroup his thoughts. Another deep breath, followed by a shaky sigh.

    “Better?”

    “I-I…” Teshin wiped away the sweat that had trickled down his face. Shaking away the pent-up anxiety, he slid the now-empty glass to the side. “Apologies for that. I didn’t mean to…”

    “Don’t worry about it.” Sho consoled, a comforting smile shining at Teshin. “You’ve come a long way, and you’re doing much better now. I’m glad.”

    “Thanks for being so patient with me,” Teshin replied with a smile of his own. “Anyways… What do you suppose we do now? We’ve waited years for Edward to get this weak again.”

    A long sigh, followed by a clink as the other glass of whiskey was downed. “Well… there’s not much we can do in our current position. Regroup with the rest of the scouts, and I’ll do the same. We can’t risk it for the time being.”

    He rapped his fingers on the table. “Check.”

    Teshin slammed his fists, Sho’s stack of chips collapsing over. “But we can't! That’s exactly what we did last time!” He shuddered, the anxiety overwhelming him once more. “I don’t want it to happen again, Sho. Our organization… Our comrades…”

    “Sho. Look at me. It’s not going to happen again. I swear on my life.”

    “Ugh…” Teshin whimpered quietly. More deep breaths, silently checking back as he tried to calm himself down. Both of them watched as the Nuzleaf slid another card from the top of the deck.

    The dealer placed the card face down, glancing at both players for any re-raises. They both remained silent.

    At the flip of the turn, Teshin’s scowl immediately brightened into a small smile. King of clubs! That makes triple kings!

    With slightly more confidence he was able to slow his breathing. Sho smiled, possibly at his own hand, but definitely at Teshin’s improved mood.

    A beat of silence. “Sorry again about that… I didn’t want to–”

    “Tesh, you’re doing well. Trust me, we both know how much that day hurt…” The Haxorus slowly shook his head. “Never. Again.

    Another rap of the table. He shined another smirk at Teshin as he threw another check over towards the Zeraora.

    “Let me start over,” said Teshin, clearing his throat. “The Everlasting King has been located, but… He’s… Uh… No longer part of the Snivy evolutionary line…”

    A concerned grunt escaped the Haxorus’s face, now painted with intrigue and curiosity.

    Teshin rummaged around his bag, fishing out a jar. Inside the jar were a couple shards of snow-white eggshells. “I watched him hatch out the egg. I was about to make my move too, but two royal guards got there before me. A Lucario and a Breloom…”

    The Haxorus’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the two Pokemon. “Lucario and Breloom… You don’t suppose...”

    “No! Not a chance! I know my scouts! Those two would never.” The Zeraora interrupted defensively.

    “Alright, alright!” Sho relented. “Though, for as long as the King remains in his palace, there’s not much we can do at the moment. I propose we use this opportunity to grow. After all, the palace would be way too busy dealing with the king’s health to be monitoring our whereabouts as much.”

    “Recall your scouts, assign them back to protection duty. I will begin to consolidate our forces. By the time that greedy bastard of a King is all grown up again, we’ll be ready to counter everything they throw at us!” Sho announced, pridefully shaking his fists in the air.

    Teshin considered the Haxorus’s words for a moment. He still had many doubts, he was trained to be like that, after all. The plan lacked direction, it made many assumptions about how the royals would act, and it was just… not well thought out.

    Suddenly, the Zeraora’s sky-blue eyes lit up. Another idea, one much more risky yet much sounder, popped into his mind. He snapped his head back upwards, staring directly into Sho’s aged, crimson eyes.

    “You know…” Teshin said. “Another idea came up just now…”

    Sho’s smile glistened against the candlelight. “Ahaha! That’s more like the Teshin I know! Let’s hear it, any idea at this point would be better than what I was cooking up…”

    “So you do admit your plan wasn’t very good~” Teshin joked. His mood had brightened up significantly, allowing him to enjoy the oddly vibrant atmosphere of the bar much more than before. “Well, I propose…” he plucked a few more chips off his pile, throwing 1500 Gs worth into the center. “We play a little more aggressively …”

    “Oh?” Sho replied, eyebrows raised.

    “As you surmised, there’s definitely trouble brewing in the castle… The king being reincarnated as a different Pokemon… that’s bound to cause a few issues for the monarchy. I overheard some of the nobles mentioning memory loss, as well as a few others complaining about the royal cabinet in private.”,

    The Haxorus leaned his whole body in, his horns barely missing the chandelier that hung in front of him. “And your idea?”

    “They’re angry, Sho. Angry and directionless. If my sources are accurate, the King seems to have come down with a case of severe memory loss as well. He can’t lead, Sho. We can fix him, and all the noble houses will follow.

    Sho blinked. “Fix him?”

    Teshin shot up, kicking his chair away. It crashed into a Braviary stumbling nearby, too drunken to notice as the chair collided with its scar-covered wing, splintering into countless pieces of wood.

    “Yes, Sho! We can fix him . It’s simple. Send me in there! Instead of killing him, I kidnap him instead. He’s too weak to fight back, and assuming his memory loss is sufficient, maybe wouldn’t even fight back!” Stars formed in his eyes, paws pumping into the air excitedly.

    “Once he is in our control it's smooth sailing from there. He becomes our puppet, and we finally, finally, can properly rule Krux like we always strived for!”

    “Yes! Tesh! That’s it!” Sho enthused. He stood up himself, calling the Zeraora’s raise with another sizeable chunk of his chips.

    The pot was growing to become ridiculously big, and with Teshin’s triple kings, he was sure to win it all.

    …right?

    They both settled back down, Teshin reaching over for a new chair to replace the one he had just destroyed. The Nuzleaf flipped over the final card, revealing another ace. Two aces and three queens… A full house!

    Teshin kept himself from celebrating. Stay focused tesh… still loads of time to screw this up…

    Sho continued as they settled down. “Good! Excellent even! However…” Sho smiled as he peeked at his cards one last time. “I propose one slight… revision to your plan.”

    The Haxorus wrapped his hands around his entire stack of chips, pushing them toward the center of the pile. “Contact the rest of the scouts. We’re going all in .”

    Teshin stared at Sho, mouth agape. This is… he’s really doing this… but we… I… can’t… Not again…

    “No… Sho… y-you can’t be serious!”

    “Oh, but I entirely am~” Sho’s casual joking attitude did not soothe Teshin’s conflicted mind. It’s too risky… I can’t… but… I trust him… He knows what he’s doing… What if he has quad aces? What if we fail again… again… again…

    Teshin clutched his head, his mind fragmented with so many conflicting thoughts and considerations. He stayed locked in this state until a familiar hand reached over, petting between his ears. The feline purred lightly, his mind temporarily placated.

    “Tesh… You’re spiraling again. Trust me. This will work.” Sho asserted. He continued rubbing his claws around the Zeraora’s ears. “You know me better than anyone else Tesh. If I believe it's going to work, then I will make sure it’s going to work.”

    Teshin, adequately soothed and emotions calmed, gripped Sho’s claws. He warmly looked up at the dragon, tears that had welled up in his eyes retracting back.

    “Alright, Sho… I trust you. I fold.”

    Sho grinned as he watched Teshin throw his cards toward the center, face down. He hesitated for a moment, before deciding on revealing his cards to the Zeraora. A seven of hearts, and a two of spades.

    “W-what? N-no!” Teshin stammered as he stared back towards the golden-brown dragon, eyes filled with sadness and betrayal. “I… I trusted you… Sho… We can’t win like this…”

    Sho scooped his winnings back towards his pile, before stepping around the table toward Teshin. A deep hug followed, both Pokemon’s arms interlocked between the other’s backs. A silent sob emanated from Teshin.

    “There there…” Sho pat the Zeraora on the back a few times, before breaking off the hug. “Trust me.”

    Teshin stepped away, still doubtful of the dragon’s assurances. “But we don't have the Pokemon! Let me go alone! I can’t deal with losing any of my scouts!”

    “Teshin.” The Haxorus’s voice deepened, a more serious tone replacing his lighthearted comforting one.

    “Look at my hand.” He pointed towards his cards, still lying face up for the two of them to see. He pointed back at Teshin, prodding him lightly with an extended claw. “Now look at yourself. We may have few, but we have the best this kingdom’s populace may offer.”

    “You don’t need to have it all for your enemies to think you have it all.”

    Teshin contemplated for a while longer. He slid the cloth back over his chip pile, now considerably smaller than it originally was.

    “I…” He breathed deeply and picked up his cloak, hiding his face under it once more. "Mm… Alright… I’ll contact you again once all of my scouts have returned."

    Sho smiled, waving goodbye as the feline headed towards the exit. Just before leaving, however, Teshin turned back around to face the Haxorus one last time.

    “Oh and… thanks, by the way. For all of that… I appreciate that.”

    They smiled at each other, before the feline zipped away, golden thunder blending in with the winds howling violently outside. The drunken bar paid no notice to the Republic’s dealings, their motivations refreshed, and plans set anew.


    Zeraora Teshin | Art by Wizardofwoof

    Teshin%20solo.png



    More formatting and spacing issues fixed, alongside some minor dialogue edits. Today is also the day I posted chapter 1 to Ao3, so happy first birthday RR!

    [Next chapter will be posted 7/2/24]
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter 9 - Surreptitious Secrets Part 1
  • Turkeyuwu

    Rhythm Gamer
    Location
    Thailand
    Pronouns
    He/Him | They/Them
    Chapter 9 - Surreptitious Secrets Part 1
    The morning sun slowly arced across the sky, shining its radiant glimmer through the large stained glass windows that adorned the walls of the room. The light reflected upon many of the golden surfaces scattered around, helping spread illumination throughout the circular chamber.

    A tiny fox lay curled up alone on the relatively oversized bed, stirring lightly in the harsh sunlight that shone down upon his gold-edged fur.

    “Ughh… Ah… W-what…?”

    It took a few short moments for Alan to finally snap out of his daze. The events of the night prior, as well as his supposed ‘training’ with Necrozma, hit him like a brick wall. He shot up, tails raised in alarm.

    “The dinner!” Alan exclaimed, his panicked voice dry and raspy. His throat screamed for water. Fortunately, a glass of water was placed on a bedside table to his left, seeming set aside just for him. A crumpled note fell off his tail as he rushed across the comparatively large bed towards the glass of water.

    With his throat now refreshed, his surroundings became clearer to him. An oval room, golden decorations, and furniture lined the edge of the room. In the center, a small sundial stood, golden rays of sunlight shining through the giant stained glass window behind Alan cast upon the gnomon.

    As the Vulpix shifted to read the sundial he noticed the note, now cast aside halfway off the bed. He turned, immediately distracted by whatever new thing came into his field of vision.

    The crinkled sheet of yellowing paper had only a few simple words scratched into it. The handwriting was horrible tears stained the ink, blotting out multiple words into a scratchy near-unreadable mess. Even with Necrozma’s blessing, the words struggled to rearrange themselves into something legible for Alan. After a moment, he could just barely make out the sentence hastily scribbled onto the page.



    I’m sorry for last night. I did something bad and I regret it.

    I’m going out to think. Sorry.


    - Melissa


    “Ah! You’re finally awake, Your Majesty!” Hikaru said as he entered the bedchambers. He was already dressed in his full armored attire, similar to their first encounter. Chai lagged behind the Lucario, his body covered in tiny imprints, left by Hikaru’s armor. It was apparent they were busy cuddling for a while before Alan awoke.

    Alan held up Melissa’s note, a look of genuine concern plastered across his face. Perhaps they knew more about this?

    “Uh, Hikaru? Where did… Where did Melissa go?”

    The Lucario appeared confused for a moment, before noticing the paper in Alan’s paws. “Oh! Apologies Your Highness, I forgot about your memory issues.” He said, bowing lightly. “Her Highness has a tendency to leave the castle when she is upset. She is most likely somewhere around one of the royal gardens behind the castle.”

    “A-and she will return, r-right?!?” Alan worriedly asked.

    “Ahhh…” Hikaru paused for a moment to recall. It had been a while since the last time Melissa had bolted out of the castle in such fashion. Nowadays, she tended to take her anger and disappointment out in other ways…

    “Hmm… Generally, yes.” Hikaru could hear a loud sigh of relief coming from the Vulpix. “She generally returns before sundown. If you wish, we could send out a search party now to retrieve Her Majesty immediately.”

    “N-no, let her come back when she wants to.” Alan said, rubbing his head. He attempted to untangle his bedhead, to no avail. “W-what even happened last night… After, I uh…”

    “Worry not, your grace. The situation has mostly been quelled. Every guest last night has been asked to keep quiet about your… uh… c-condition… last night.”

    “Uh huh… Let’s forget about that for now.” Alan dismissed. “Anything important I need to attend to today, Hikaru?”

    “Doctor Sharron has advised you to shy away from extreme physical exertion today, so aside from paperwork and a small physical exam in the afternoon, you have no duties to attend to, Your Highness.”

    Alan scratched between his ears. “That’s… sure nice of him…” He glanced back over towards the sundial. The shadow cast shifted slightly in his few minutes of conversation with Hikaru, yet it still pointed towards a tiny glyph on a rising sun.

    That’s still pretty inaccurate… I had hoped this world would have invented clocks or something similar…

    Chai whispered something towards Hikaru, stepping up to replace him as the Lucario fell back before quietly sprinting away. His demeanor seemed awkward and restrained like he wasn't so used to acting with such grace.

    “Y-your Majesty, i-if I may…” The Breloom bowed, his tail swishing around clumsily, nearly knocking over a few glass bottles placed on the nearby bedside table. “While we may not have an immediate solution f-for your memory p-problems, may I suggest a visit to the library? T-to refamiliarize yourself with your kingdom, I-I mean…”

    “Sure. It would be nice to understand what the paperwork you have me sign are talking about…” Alan joked, smiling warmly at Chai. The Breloom didn’t seem to notice, head kept low in reverence and eyes locked at the carpeted floor.

    The Lucario came sprinting back, a velvet pillow clutched in his arms. He carefully stepped back in front of Chai, kneeling and presenting the pillow for Alan to climb onto.

    “I’m curious, Hikaru.” Alan inquired. “How do you so easily know what to do with me? I mean… I’m sure I now must have much different needs to me as a Serperior…”

    “O-oh! Well…” Hikaru, clearly caught off guard by such a question, stumbled slightly as he answered. “W-well, in your past lives you were always reborn as a Snivy, so s-shortly before you passed Madame Celeste instructed me to educate myself on proper procedures in caring for Snivy, Your Highness.”

    Alan hesitated. He felt weird, being entirely pampered and spoiled like this, given what he witnessed in the dungeons the day prior. He felt… guilty, almost. Contemplating for a moment, Alan recognized it would be easier for him to just go with whatever he was given for the time being. He sighed, before hopping onto the pillow, curling up under his robes as the Lucario carried him away.

    The Lucario remained as stoic as always, steady and calm even after sprinting down the long hallway that connected the bedroom to the rest of the castle. The descent down the castle was agonizingly quiet. Neither Chai nor Hikaru dared their usual banter in the presence of the king, while Alan also shied against unnecessary interaction lest he accidentally reveal the truth to the pair.

    The small, cramped hallways soon grew into grand walkways, the ceiling stretching far above Alan’s head. The doors guarding the entrance to the library were also similarly grand, blocky waffle-like patterns engraved onto the wooden doors. A small, flat model of an open book hung above the door to differentiate this doorway from all the other doorways that sporadically lined the main hallway of the castle.

    It took the combined effort of both Hikaru and Chai to push even just one of the doors. Remarkedly difficult in comparison to the doors leading towards the throne room or the bedroom.

    Alan hopped off the pillow, peering into the Library. Huge piles of books, paperwork, and other written works piled atop one another. A pack of Ariados workers skittered about, clambering around the piles of books and neighboring bookshelves. They efficiently plucked books from beside them, quickly scanning them before tossing them towards their fellow workers, slotting them into place within seconds.

    As the Vulpix marveled at the working Pokemon, Hikaru stepped away to rejoin Chai at the door. Alan’s ears twitched, no longer sensing the presence of the Lucario behind him.

    “Hikaru? Chai? A-are you not coming in? I could definitely use your help in picking out some books”

    “There is no need for our presence, Your Majesty. The head Librarian is posted just around that bookcase. He will be of much greater help than we could ever provide.” Hikaru said, Chai nodding fervently in agreement.

    He smiled gently, picking up the pillow Alan had left on the ground, “I would much prefer to stand guard outside, your highness. May you find your book in this place.”

    Alan turned away, heading deeper down the pathway lined with stacks upon stacks of books that towered far above. He relaxed slightly as he rounded the corner, before gasping in marvel and shock at the sight that beheld him.

    Hundreds of bookcases, masterfully stacked atop one another, slowly extended away from the center of the library where the Vulpix now stood. Ladders and staircases wrapped around, a few workers dotted atop them, dragging around massive carts filled with books, placing and replacing books with untold efficiency.

    In Alan’s awe, he entirely overlooked the Pokemon that had crept up beside him. Its head stretched down from high above, the two sails attached fluttering wistfully in the air as it patiently waited for a moment to address the king.

    “May I help you, your grace?”

    “Wah!!”

    Alan scrambled away in a panic, tripping over his robe and knocking his crown off his head. The Aurorus watched, giggling quietly to himself. He helped the Vulpix back up, returning the crown to its original place, atop Alan’s head.

    “A-ah.. Good morning… Mr. Librarian… S-sorry, I’ve been struggling to remember…”

    “No worries, your highness. I have already been informed of your… plight.” The dinosaur assured. His soothing tone helped immensely in placating the permanently anxious Vulpix. “I am Aurorus Alexandrus, head librarian and bookkeeper. Pleased to be at your service.”

    The icy dinosaur bowed deeply, so his head tapped softly on the carpeted ground. Both his sails folded into one another, still waving lightly in the soft winds that blew around the library.

    “R-right, Alexandrus… I-I was looking for something… a-anything to aid in recollection. What would you recommend?”

    “Hmm…” The Aurorus craned his neck upwards. He stepped over the counter, towards a nearby bookshelf across from their general location.

    The rock-type’s dexterity was near unmatched, him adeptly checking the covers of multiple books at once with only his mouth. A few frustrated clicks alongside the clatter of books dropping onto the hard wooden floor later he returned, a relatively small book now balanced atop his back.

    “I assume you also have no recollection of this, but… in your previous life, you also tended to spend a large amount of time in here, your highness. I could bring you to your favorite reading corner if you would like…”

    He pointed his head towards the ceiling, Alan’s eyes following the direction his snout pointed towards. A small entryway jutted out, connected to the rest of the library by a singular pole, one assumedly used exclusively by the late king himself.

    “If I may…”

    Before Alan could reply, he felt a tug on the scuff of his neck. His legs fell limp and he lost control of his body, as he gently swung around in the air.

    Alan yelped as he was hoisted higher and higher above the carpeted floor. He could only wriggle his head and torso weakly, unable to move anything below his shoulders at all.

    “Wuh- ah! A-Alexandrus! What are you doing?!?”

    Suddenly, the tension on his neck was released. He felt himself soaring through the air, having been tossed up towards the cove hanging from the ceiling. Alan curled up, tucking his head in between his arms and bracing for impact as he was flung directly into the entrance of the cove.

    His landing, however, was surprisingly soft. He unfurled his body, peeking his head out, cautiously scanning his surroundings.

    A well-decorated, warmly lit room surrounded the Vulpix. It seemed entirely untouched since Edward’s passing. Velvet pillow lay strewn about, and multiple stacks of books both stood and lay toppled over. Alan could barely make out the art that populated the covers of a few of the books that lay closest to him.

    A Treecko and a Green-eyed Riolu sat in a grassy plain, smiling at one another. Another, a grinning Pikachu flanked by a long-haired Snivy, Rockruff, and Audino. An office, populated by a Marshtomp, Riolu, Tyrunt, and Roselia. A trio comprising of an Eevee, Sobble, and Litten, ready to explore.

    One final book tumbled into the entryway behind him, haphazardly thrown into the cove by Alexandrus. Through the opening, he could barely hear the faint words of the Aurorus standing below.

    “Summon me once more when you are ready to leave, your highness. I’ll present to catch you at a moment’s notice.”

    Alan picked up the book now laid in front of him. Blowing away the rest of the dust still managing to hang on after being tossed around, he could barely make out the text on the cover.


    Krux: A General Review of State of the Kingdom, its Population, and its Geography
    Written by Igetia Punnam


    An incredibly boring title for an incredibly boring book… Alan lamented. It didn’t matter though, he had to stomach this either way. He needed to fit in if he wanted to keep his secret safe. He began to flip through the browning pages, each threatening to crumble under Alan’s grip.


    Krux City
    The shining centerpiece of the illustrious Krux Kingdom. Those who inhabit this city are said to live the most fulfilling lives in the Kingdom, lead directly under the genius leadership of His Majesty the Everlasting King. A castle stands atop an island contained by a natural lake, fed and drained by the Poltok River. Vast fields of wheat and berry trees sprawl far out the walls of this town. Resources are plenty. Live here, and you shall never face starvation again.

    Population: approx. 300,000~
    Mystery Dungeon status: Tamed
    Guild presence: Headquarters



    Ashton Town
    A small settlement located approximately two days’ worth of walking away from Krux City. It is mainly inhabited by Grass and Bug types, as well as a small number of those hailing from the neighboring continental islands of Koria and Sotoria. Its population are said to be content and somewhat well-fed.

    Population: approx. 4500~
    Mystery Dungeon status: Active, stable
    Guild Presence: Yes



    Agave Town
    Located deep in the dry and nigh uninhabitable Aureolin Desert, this town is almost always enshrouded in an intense sandstorm. Travelers to this town are advised to wear protective gear lest they are willing to be torn apart by the unforgiving sands. The harsh environment and location make for poor living conditions.

    Population: 1600~
    Mystery Dungeon status: Unknown
    Guild Presence: No



    < - - - >



    Chessen Town
    A mining town, growing in size between years 37G and 39G, the population ballooned as those willing to brave the mines delving deep into the core of the Poltok Highlands or the equally unforgiving icy mystery dungeons that surround the inhospitable frozen wastelands. Over the years, it has grown to become Krux’s largest producer of metals and other rare commodities. Ice and Steel types are best known to live here, able to weather the blizzards and avalanches that threaten the town on a near-daily basis.

    Population: 12,000~
    Mystery Dungeon status: Active, Growing
    Guild Presence: Limited



    Paray City
    The largest of the five documented settlements dotted around the dense Verdigris Jungle, lovingly referred to as the “Krux of the South” by its denizens. The hollow yet thick-based trees of the jungle are perfect for above-ground settlements and treehouses, connected by a complex network of self-built bridges avoiding the ground entirely. Mainly inhabited by Flying and Normal types, Paray has grown to become the kingdom’s biggest producer of wood and other resources found around the lush jungle that encompasses the southwestern region of Krux.

    Population: approx. 150,000~
    Mystery Dungeon status: Tamed
    Guild Presence: Yes


    < - - - >

    Hmm… Interesting…

    Alan continued to flip through the book, skimming each entry as best he could. Knowledge was power in his current state, whatever he could retain was sure to help him in the not-so-distant future, he was sure.

    “...”

    He yawned, tails swishing around and fanning the warm stuffy air permeating around. I think I’ll just…

    Before the Vulpix had even finished his thought, the warmth carried his senses away once more. He faceplanted into the still open book, body slumping under the sweet embrace of the unconscious.



    Hikaru grunted as he shut the door leading towards the Library. As required by protocol: two guards must be assigned to guard outside whichever room his majesty was located in at all times. On most occasions, he and Chai were the ones to be assigned this role, given their familiarity with the castle, alongside their unfamiliarity with the outside world.

    “You know…” said the Breloom, playing around with his spear. “I’ve always wondered, why are we the ones who get assigned guard duty the most. Plenty of other guards are just as capable with guard duty as us…”

    Hikaru kept his head locked forward, instead judgmentally glaring at Chai. “Are you not satisfied with our assignment, Chai? Have you no respect for his majesty’s command?”

    “No! No… I just… When was the last time we got to go outside, Karu?”

    “Well, that would have been our little excursion to retrieve the king 4 days ago.”

    Before that, Karu. I mean… when was the last time we actually left the castle grounds on our own volition?”

    The Lucario broke off of his focused gaze, turning his head towards the Breloom, then down at his own feet. He couldn’t remember…

    He furrowed his brows, shifting uncomfortably in his armor. “Uhm… Hrm. I… do not recall…”

    “Exactly! Don’t you find that a tiny bit suspicious?” Chai inquired. “We never get days off like the rest of the guards, always assigned to watch over his majesty, always kept inside the castle. Don’t you feel like maybe they’re keeping us in for a reason? I suspect– ow!”

    Chai flinched as a light-blue bone of aura poked at his ribs. “Hey! What was that for?!?”

    “It’s to get you to shut up about it.” Hikaru half-joked half-warned. “You always complain about the same issues when we’re on guard duty.”

    Hikaru twirled the bone in his hands, its glow slowly weakening before eventually vanishing from view entirely.

    “Besides, it’s not like I yearn for the outside anyway. I am already content, Chai.” The Lucario flashed a tiny smirk towards his partner. “Why explore the world, when my entire world already stands alongside me.”

    “Oh…” Chai blushed, positively astounded. “K-Karu… I… me too…”

    He rested his spear on the wall, before lunging at Hikaru standing on the opposite side of the door. The Lucario was entirely caught off guard, tackled onto the ground by the bipedal mushroom.

    “Chai! What are you doing?! Go back to your post! We’re on duty here!”

    “Oh shush. No one’s gonna know if you don’t make a scene~” said Chai as he buried his face into Hikaru’s armored body. The hinges between the metallic plates nicked everywhere around his torso, but he didn’t care. He continued to nuzzle the canine, now blushing heavily himself.

    “C-chai! I…” Hikaru paused to consider. “I suppose… It’s certainly been a while since we were granted time off…”

    “Yeah! Celeste won’t mind if we goof off a little~”

    “Alright.” Hikaru threw aside his spear, freeing his other hand and bringing the Breloom into a strong hug. He leaned in, softly kissing Chai on the forehead as the Breloom continued to nuzzle the Lucario. Both their tails wagged strongly, while their cheeks both remained flushed red

    Chai giggled, returning Hikaru’s kiss with one on his snout instead. “I’ve been meaning to say this for a while but… we’ve just been so busy. So…”

    “Hm?”

    “I think… I-I love you… Karu…”

    Hikaru chuckled. His breathing quietened, eyes locked upon the beaming Breloom.

    “I know~ And… I love you too, Chai.”

    "Ah... I'm glad."

    They grasped each other’s cheeks, taking one last look at each other before their eyes closed, and snouts touched. They had to break off eventually, sure. But, for the time being, this moment would never end.



    Hikaru%20and%20Chai%20fluffy.png

    Hikaru and Chai | Art by Wizardofwoof


    An Aggron sat at his office table, papers strewn about without care all across the circular office. Lorenzo absentmindedly stared at his study’s walls, adorned with golden decorations and random artifacts that he fancied. Another small piece of metal adeptly flicked in between his short, stubby fingers, the fidgeting being the only source of sound in the otherwise stuffy, silent office.

    Loud stomping originating from outside the gold-lined doorway snapped the daydreaming Aggron from his stupor. He sat up in anticipation, snatching up a pen beside him, scribbling randomly across the empty page in front of him.

    The door burst open, an aging green lizard imposing her presence upon the near-empty office. Her claymore remained slung behind her back as she took off her coat, revealing her well-built yet heavily scarred torso.

    Celeste casually strode up towards Lorenzo’s desk, mockingly snatching the piece of parchment from the table.

    “Oi! Can’t you see I’m busy?!” The Aggron annoyedly reached out to grab the paperwork from Celeste’s grasp. “And get your ass off the carpet, at least! Your swords’ dripping blood everywhere !”

    “Oh cut the crap, Lorenzo. We both know your dumbass isn’t ever working anyways. Like, look at this…” said the Sceptile, pointing at the paperwork, now returned to its rightful place on the desk. “I’m not an idiot, you know. I can see you’re just scribbling random nonsense on that blank form.”

    “Nuh uh!” replied the Aggron, defensively. He stepped around the table, walking up towards Celeste and nudging her away from the carpet, now stained a dull, reddish-brown from the still-fresh blood dripping off her weapon.

    “Git! Off! You!”

    Lorenzo stared longingly at his now ruined carpet, annoyedly grumbling in Celeste’s direction. “Look at what you did! Who even did you beat to a pulp to coat your sword in that much blood!?!”

    “Oh, you know, just our local flowery apothecary… He’s experienced, he’ll be fine~”

    “Oh Arceus…”

    The Aggron bent over, rolling the now bloodied carpet and tossing it behind his desk, out of sight of any future visitors.

    “Look Cel… I know you find pleasure in beating the lights out of anyone who dares cross you… But please, you need to tone it down. A lot.” Lorenzo held out his arms, claws pointed up at the ceiling in a calming, soothing gesture.

    “What’s gotten into you anyway? This past moon alone you’ve sent eight different Pokemon to the infirmary, then beat up the head of the medical ward himself!”

    Celeste’s eyes widened in sadistic glee, candlelight reflecting off her smiling beak. “It’s for his Majesty, of course! There shall be zero tolerance against dissent; You said that yourself, no?”

    The Aggron facepalmed, the metallic clang of his face clashing against his palms ringing across the room. “Dissent against Edward is unacceptable, yes, but whatever this is… no. This is dangerous, Cel. You’re using His Majesty’s name to exact your revenge on those who wronged you !”

    “Well of course! My will is His Majesty’s will, after all.” Celeste unsheathed her claymore, pointing it at the neck of the metallic dinosaur. “You dare… suggest my disloyalty towards King Edward? I’ll have you forcibly reincarnated back into an Aron for that, you know.”

    Lorenzo hesitated for a moment, before releasing a groan in defeat. Whatever mental ‘plague’ was affecting Celeste, he wouldn’t be able to root out the cause so easily. Especially with the royal cabinet’s only competent medical professional most likely lying unconscious wherever Celeste had tossed him aside.

    “Whatever. You win, ya crazy lady.”

    The Aggron relented, stepping back and returning to his seat behind his desk. “Why are you even here anyway? You never stop by my room nowadays, Cel. Do you need me to find more people for you to beat up? You know the royal dungeons are always open for you.”

    “No… No…” Celeste sighed, returning to her usual demeanor. “Just… It’s…”

    “It’s what.”

    "I-It’s Edward, Lorenzo. Haven’t you noticed?”

    “You mean last night? Come on Cel, we all saw that. If you’re concerned about the coverup, don't worry. I’ve got it all under control.”

    “N-no…” Celeste fumbled with the strap on her chest. Eventually, her claws managed to grip upon a button, releasing her claymore from her back, allowing it to loudly clatter on the ground behind her. “It’s just… he’s not acting like himself, you know?”

    “I’m not following.”

    “Look at him! He was always our confident leader, right out of the hatchery! But now, he’s no more than a forgetful bundle of overly stimulated nerves!” The Sceptile shouted, before quieting down and slumping into a half-kneel. “What if what Sharron said was true, Lor… What if he’s truly gone for good?”

    “Cel. Look at me. He’s not gone. Imagine waking up one day and no longer being a Sceptile, How would you feel? Give him some time to adjust to his new form, as well as the amnesia that we-”

    That Sharron caused… ” Celeste clenched her fists tightly, smacking it into the ground in front. “Honestly I don’t think I beat enough sense into that flowery boy…”

    “Stop it. That’s that and this is this, let's move on.”

    The Aggron stood up, stepping back around, looming above the kneeling Sceptile. He continued, stretching out an arm in the meantime. “We have bigger issues to deal with at this moment, Cel. We’ll work through this together, one issue at a time. Like the good old days.”

    “...The good old days, huh…”

    Celeste grasped Lorenzo’s outstretched hand, helping herself up back into a standing position. She should have stood up on her own, yet something about him… It reminded her. A time before all the political tension, a time before the accident. It warmed her, reminiscing about the good old days.

    The Aggron pulled her close, dragging her into a tight hug. Celeste relaxed, letting Lorenzo pull her around, controlling her body weight. The dinosaur grabbed the end of his cloak, wiping down the blood from her blade, now back in the lizard’s grasp.

    “Thanks…”

    “Don’t worry about it, Cel. Just… please try to stop beating up our workers, just for a little bit. Alright?”

    “Alright, I’ll try,” Celeste smirked. “Like the good old days…”

    “Like the good old days…”



    [Next chapter will be posted 14/2/24 19/2/24]
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter 10 - Surreptitious Secrets Part 2
  • Turkeyuwu

    Rhythm Gamer
    Location
    Thailand
    Pronouns
    He/Him | They/Them
    Chapter 10 - Surreptitious Secrets Part 2
    Pâro - The feeling that everything you do is always somehow wrong—that there’s nothing you can eat that’s actually healthy, nothing you can say that isn’t problematic, no way to raise your kids that won’t leave them traumatized— which makes you wonder if there’s some obvious way forward that everybody can see but you, each of them leaning back in their chair and calling out helpfully, “Colder… colder… colder…”
    - The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows



    The Vulpix stirred, unfurling his fluffy robed body, groggy and disoriented. A deep, dreamless slumber, interrupted only by the soft shuffling permeating his surroundings. He rubbed his eyes, wiping the drool off the corner of his mouth, waiting for his vision to return from a blurred splash of colors back to normalcy.

    He groaned, closing his eyes, attempting to return to sleep. A pair of claws, however, wrapped under his head, keeping them propped up and preventing him from falling back into his slumber.

    “Urngg… Five more minutes… please…” Alan begged as he tossed his head around, attempting to pull himself away from the claw’s grip.

    “I truly apologize, your highness…” Celeste’s smooth voice rang in his mind. “You may return to your slumber soon, but there is something special you must attend to right this moment, sire.”

    Alan shot back up upon hearing the Sceptile’s voice, knots of hair tangled over his tired eyes, blocking his vision.

    “Where…” His eyes darted around alarmedly. “Guh! I… Ah! Celeste! H-how am I…”

    “Don’t fear, your Majesty. I simply found you… ah… napping… in a book.” Celeste giggled, bringing up a claw and covering a tiny smirk that had formed. “In the library, at your old reading nest, even.”

    Alan pawed his face in embarrassment. “A-apologies… Celeste. I-I hope it wasn’t too much of a struggle to fish me out of there…”

    Celeste smiled as she caressed the Vulpix’s hair, returning it to its original, fluffy bloom. “I have served you for generations, your highness. I am adept in taking care of your every need from the day you hatch to the day I am reincarnated. It is natural that your infantile form requires more sleep, after all.”

    All Alan could muster in return was a respectful nod and a stifled yawn. Through his still blurred eyesight, he could see Lorenzo heaving a massive stack of books, the same books that were scattered around him where he had collapsed.

    “A–Ah! Thanks Lorenzo…” Alan pointed towards an empty spot beside his throne surrounded by paperwork. “You can leave those here, I’ll be sure your efforts aren’t wasted.”

    “Don’t ya worry about it, sir! I’m happy to carry a hundred more books later if you want!” Lorenzo bowed, the stack of books sliding off with grace. So peanut-brained, yet so elegant… Alan thought to himself.

    Shoving his fatigue aside, Alan slid off his throne. He stepped around the pile of paperwork, now expanding off the sides of his throne and down onto the carpet lining the center of the throne room.

    Lorenzo walked towards the fox, lowering himself in front of the monarch. Alan, finally familiar with the royal cabinet’s body language, stepped into his cupped arms, allowing himself to be picked up by the Aggron. Celeste inched closer to the pair of Pokemon. She faced Alan, gently combing his unkempt hair, helping it return to its original fluffy form.

    Alan purred, his consciousness wavering in the arms of the robed Aggron. He held on as hard as he could, trying not to drop the crown balanced atop his head.

    Celeste chuckled. She understood, empathized even, with the struggles the Vulpix faced. After all, she also remembered needing to be taken care of in such a manner. Reincarnation, even successful ones, was a tricky affair after all. She was still frustrated that her king was reduced to such an embarrassing form, but she couldn’t complain. He surely was having it much worse than she could ever. The best she could do was help him get back on his feet, both literally and figuratively.

    Neither the Sceptile nor the Aggron said much more, only warmly smiling at one another as the crowned Vulpix fell back asleep in Lorenzo’s arms. They quickened their pace to a hasty shuffle, traveling down the long carpeted corridors of the royal palace.

    Soon the cramped, isolated corridors opened up to larger, more well-lit halls. Glass lined the top edge of the hallways, allowing the midday sunlight to flood into the passageway. Workers scampered in between the stone archways off to the side of the main path, pausing just for a moment to marvel at the slumbering Vulpix before hurrying off to their next task.

    A few short moments later, the hallways opened up further to an expansive atrium. Red curtains partially hid massive windows of stained glass, the tapestry etched upon the fabric perfectly mimicking the different colored patterns of the assembled mosaic below.

    The center of the room was barely decorated, lightly dusted training grounds, sectioned off by white lines painted atop the compacted dirt. In the center sat Hikaru, patiently waiting for the trio of Pokemon to arrive.

    Lorenzo set the Vulpix down gently, allowing him to naturally wake. Simultaneously, Hikaru stood, breaking off from his meditation in preparation for what was to come. A glance at his partner was enough to fill him with the confidence to keep going.

    Alan felt incredibly groggy and disoriented. He felt the cold dusty ground underneath him, paws scraping against the dirt until his vision returned. A singular Chesto berry lay in front. He quickly chomped down upon the berry, his blunt teeth barely able to penetrate its hard skin. It didn't matter, however, for it was barely enough to reinvigorate his tiny body. He kept on attacking the fruit, feeling the drowsiness melt away he gulped down more and more of the dry-tasting berry.

    He wiped the bits of berry off the corners of his mouth, looking up to see Hikaru patiently waiting for him. A crowd had begun to form around the training field: Nobles, workers, guards. They all congregated around the sides, none daring to cheer loudly but all watching in tense anticipation.

    The Vulpix only managed to reorient himself before his hind legs gave out. They had not fully recovered from last night's episode, that was evident enough. He glanced behind his back, looking for any form of support he could get. Only a Shaymin, clad in bandages, stared back with concerned eyes.

    “Hikaru… w-why are we here? Why is everyone watching us?” Alan stammered, shrinking away into the center of the field. “D-don’t they have more productive things to d-do?”

    “Well sire, today is a momentous occasion for everyone witnessing!” Hikaru answered, confidence overflowing from his tone. “We regularly conduct aptitude tests, and your first one each life tends to garner the most attention. Additionally, with your new… form … the results are bound to be much different than usual. We can move to a quieter facility, for more privacy if you so wish, your Highness.”

    “No… T-that’s not–” Alan shook his head. “W-what? A test? I-I don’t even know how… Can’t we leave this f-for later?”

    He motioned to his hind legs left splayed out on the ground. “Surely there’s another way than–”

    A Pokemon in rich, golden garments shouted from the growing crowd. “Nonsense! His Highness would never back down from such an offer!” Others agreed, mumbling their own opinions, a few cheering the Vulpix on.

    Alan was about to speak again when the share glare of a Sceptile forced his mouth back into closing. Celeste had reappeared, taking a seat alongside Lorenzo at the front row of the now-packed arena. His ears drooped, sighing in resignation as he turned back towards the ever-so-patient Lucario facing him.

    “Never mind that…” The disgruntled Vulpix growled. “Let’s just, get this over with…

    “Very well, sire.”

    The Lucario stepped up towards the middle as the cheering intensified. His voice was filled with boundless courage and enthusiasm, yet he seemed to act in the complete opposite manner. His eyes danced back and forth, frequently glancing back at the Breloom cheering him on. The plates of metal that encased his body creaked as he shifted back and forth in place.

    Lorenzo rose, towering high above the rest of the Krux nobility surrounding him. A quick exchange of nods with Hikaru signified his turn to speak. His voice boomed over the chittering Pokemon around the hall, pulling all their gazes off the crowned Vulpix and onto him instead.

    “Welcome! Welcome all! Please, settle down!” He motioned at the crowd with his arms, reducing the loud echoing racket to all but the lightest of murmurs. Unfurling a scroll from under his cape, the Aggron began to recite.

    “Ahem! The bi-generational royal aptitude exam will now commence! His Majesty King Edward shall be the examinee for the day! Due to his current situation, special considerations have been applied for this exam. Lucario Hikaru, Deputy Head of the Royal Guards shall be the conductor of the exam; While I, Aggron Lorenzo, Head of Industry and Finances, and Sceptile Celeste, Head of the Royal Guards, shall be invigilator and judge.”

    Lorenzo returned to his seat amidst the crowd of Pokemon buzzing with excitement. “Scoring shall begin once the candidate makes their first move. You may begin, your Highness!”

    With the snap of his claws, the roaring flames of the hall were extinguished, plunging most of the battleground into darkness. Only the sunlight piercing through the glass ceiling remained, shining down upon the pair of battlers like a spotlight in a play.

    Hikaru’s facial expression remained stoic, the fear in his eyes wiped away by overflowing determination and confidence. Alan, on the other hand, shuddered in the light. He tried his best the take his mind off the now hundred-Pokemon large crowd, yet he still felt each and every single one of their judgemental gazes breathing down on his back.

    The Lucario bowed, prompting Alan to return the action. He clumsily lowered his head, front legs slipping on the ground below. Before he could raise his head he heard a quiet chuckle, a few hushed gasps from the audience accompanying it. Hikaru had disappeared, the spotlight above shining solely down upon Alan.

    He felt an odd sensation gripping him, encasing him, warning him. A similar feeling to his encounter with Necrozma only a few hours past. He allowed his instincts to take over, cleansing himself of all conscious thought.

    A dodge to the right, and a blue sphere of aura to his left whizzing past. The attack rebounded, bouncing off of nothing and colliding directly into Alan’s left side. It fizzled out upon contact, his robe absorbing most of the aura sphere’s strength. The robe, however, failed to absorb the attack’s momentum, the collision sending him flying.

    “GAH!” he yelped as his body skidded across the room. The attack had kicked up some dust on the battleground, obscuring his vision.

    As he reoriented himself, a faint blue glow shone nearby, its source smashing onto the ground beside him. Instinctively, the cold in his throat rose, coalescing into a small icicle flying out of his mouth. The Lucario parried the ice shard with his bone, shattering it into pieces with ease.

    My ice! Why is it so weak!?! My strength! Why isn't it-

    Hikaru reappeared through the dust, sweeping his legs below Alan and knocking him upwards. A force palm connected with his side, launching him to the edge of the impromptu stage created by the sunlight beaming down.

    “Ughh..” Alan groaned as he struggled to pick himself back up. His robe had done its job, preventing his bones from shattering. Yet, he was still bruised and incredibly fatigued, unable to lift even his head off the ground.

    As the dust settled he watched Hikaru approach, both of his paws shakily gripping his bone. Two more desperate ice shards weakly clinked off the Lucario’s armor, him barely even noticing the attack.

    Alan’s head felt heavy. His hind legs, unresponsive. He curled up, paws covering his head as he readied himself for another beating.

    A voice in the darkness rang out. Quiet and directionless, though growing in intensity. Indecipherable yet perfectly understood by the Vulpix.

    Light…

    …My strength…


    Alan felt his legs move by themselves, forcing himself back into a standing position. A warm yellow glow enveloped his lower body, slowly creeping up his torso as he stared down Hikaru. The Lucario’s approach halted, him curiously staring down the reinvigorated Vulpix.

    Use my light…

    Our souls intertwine…


    The glow crept up toward his neck and head, forcing him to stare at Hikaru. His vision began clouding up, the glow rapidly intensifying into a radiant shine. Alan could only watch as a familiar sphere of light began growing above him. He attempted to cry out, but the words of warning directed at the Lucario were lost as his jaws locked in place.

    Our strength shall rule supreme!

    Light That Burns the Sky!


    The ball of light shot forward, rapidly closing the distance towards Hikaru. The glow that propped Alan’s legs up dissipated as he collapsed into a barely conscious pile on the spot.

    Hikaru eyed the attack racing towards him. It left streaks of broken ground as it flew towards the Lucario, its path of destruction wobbling heavily as it neared. He formed another bone of aura in his hands, crossing them both in an attempt to parry the raging sphere of light.

    A loud crack sounded, then a panicked grunting from Hikaru. The light swallowed the Lucario whole, taking with it the pained screams that came in his last moments.

    Alan’s consciousness was wavering, though he tried his best at keeping himself awake. The sound of quiet murmuring was cut short by Chai’s desperate crying, him rushing over to his unconscious partner.

    “Karu! Karu! Stay with me! You’re gonna be ok! Please! Karu!”

    Alan tried to apologize, yet nothing more than a quiet squeak came out. Still paralyzed, his muscles refused to cooperate, his struggle amounting to no more than some tiny squirming on the cold hard ground.

    Celeste dashed over, shoveling up the Vulpix from the ground while Lorenzo led them through the confused crowd of Pokemon, shoving them to one side with little warning. The Breloom’s cries gradually became more muffled as the trio of Pokemon broke through the crowd, sprinting down back to the throneroom as quickly as their legs could take them.

    “C-cel… I’m… s-sorry…” Alan squirmed in Celeste’s leafy arms. His strength was returning, though the cold still blanketed his entire body. The bags under his eyes deepened even further, yet he didn’t feel like sleeping anymore, only tiredly watching the burning candles in the hallways pass by.

    Lorenzo no longer trailed the two of them, him having slowed down and wandered off elsewhere a fair while ago.

    “I… didn’t mean to…” Alan sunk his face into the Sceptile’s arms, quietly sobbing to himself. “Hikaru… he’s–”

    “Save your words for later.” Celeste interrupted, reducing her pace to a jog. “We will discuss this tonight. You have a lot to explain, Edward.”



    More paperwork filed into Alan’s right, much faster than he could skim through and approve. His paws were numb from repeatedly stamping them on so many documents. In front of his throne, Celeste paced back and forth, glaring daggers into the Vulpix.

    “Edward.”

    Alan, accustomed to exclusively being addressed by his title, glossed over the Sceptile addressing him. He continued to silently skim the contents of the paperwork laid out in front of him. Celeste tried again, this time a little louder.

    Edward.”

    Still no response. The Vulpix continued on, dipping his entire paw into the bottle of ink beside him.

    “EDWARD!?! EDWARD! FOR FUCKS SAKE!”

    Celeste swung her claymore into the ground, shattering the stone below with a loud crack. Alan yelped in surprise, nearly knocking the bottle of ink his paws were stuck in as he stumbled back up to face the Sceptile.

    “A-Ah! I-I hear you, Celeste. S-Sorry…” he stammered. Celeste’s glare struck deep inside, his eyes forced down to stare at his stained paws. “H-how can I help you?”

    The Sceptile pinched the bridge of her nose with her claws. “Damn it, Edward! What’s wrong with you? Aren’t you going to tell me what happened back there?” Her expectant glare turned back into her usual crazed stare, yet she still loomed tall over the Vulpix.

    “I… I don’t know… I-I didn’t mean to…” Alan felt tears well up in his eyes again. He turned away, trying to wipe his face with the tiny bits of his paws that weren’t covered in ink.

    Celeste rolled her eyes. “Oh don’t even start with that crying act of yours again. What’s being a sobbing mess on the ground going to do, huh? Hikaru’s in the medical ward. His sad, clingy excuse for a partner is glued to his bed. Almost every single member of the nobility saw what you pulled! Tell me Edward, how are you going to explain whatever you just did back there to anyone?”

    Alan stepped backwards, pressing himself to the back of his throne. His lips trembled while his eyes darted around, avoiding Celeste as he racked his brain for excuses.

    “Um… Uh… L-Look… I mean… C-Can’t we just f-forget about thi– Ah!”

    The Sceptile snarled as she grabbed Alan by the scruff of his neck, leaving him desperately kicking the air as he dangled in her grasp.

    "Cel! What in Arceus’s name are doing!?” Lorenzo screamed as he rushed towards her. He grabbed her shoulder, attempting to stop her from injuring the Vulpix further.

    Celeste swatted away the Aggron, tightening her grip around Alan’s neck. “Fuck off, Lorenzo. Go back to playing with your coins or whatever you do instead of actually doing your job like the rest of us.”

    Lorenzo stood his ground, tightly gripping onto her leafy arms. “Cel. I’m going to say this again. Look at who you’re choking. Drop him. Now.

    The Aggron’s words fell upon deaf ears as Celeste tuned out his threats. She turned back to Alan, desperately gasping for air as her claws dug into his neck. Blood streaked down his neck, mixing with the tears streaming down his face, staining the white fluff lining his robes an ugly crimson pink.

    “Ack! Aughh… S-Stop…” Alan begged as he struggled. Both of his paws clawed at Celeste’s arms, trying to pry them off his neck. Dark spots began forming around the edge of his vision as his consciousness began to waver. “H-Help…”

    “Tell me, Edward! What the hell did you do?” Celeste interrogated. She raised her arms higher, Alan’s legs now dangling above her head. “I don’t care how much you’re struggling! Answer me damn it!”
    She released the Vulpix, hurling him into a pillar across the room. There was an audible crunch as his ribs snapped in half, followed by a crash as his body crumpled on the ground below. He remained motionless on the ground, body trembling with each slow, painful breath he took. Tears and blood pooled in an ugly puddle of vermillion underneath him.

    “Oh, Arceus forgive us…” Lorenzo muttered under his breath as he slowly inched towards the barely conscious Alan. A large claymore prevented him from further approaching the Vulpix, however.

    “Back off Lorenzo. I’m not done yet.” Celeste stepped towards Alan, lifting his chin up enough to shove an Oran Berry into his mouth. Though his wounds may have closed, tears continued to stream down Alan’s fearful eyes.

    He braced himself, yet no further beating came to be. Celeste still stood over him, however, claw clasped over his chin.

    “Now Edward, I’m going to give you one last chance… ” Celeste snarled, shooting daggers at Alan. “You’re going to tell me exactly what the hell happened back there.”

    What do I even say? Would she try to kill me if she found out?! Alan panicked. Time was running out, her claws beginning to dig into his flesh once more.

    “I… I don't know!” he blurted out. “I really don’t. I-I’m telling the truth! I swear! It hurts so much… S-Something controlled me, I c-couldn’t move! I wouldn’t ever try to kill Hikaru!”

    Alan’s entire body shuddered as he neared another breakdown. He just wanted to shut his eyes and pretend nothing ever happened. Loudly sobbing, he struggled off Celeste’s weakening grip and into a tightly curled ball.

    Celeste froze. Reason seemed to return to her eyes as she stared silently at the Vulpix on the ground. Lorenzo took the opportunity to swoop in, cradling Alan as he rushed towards the exit.

    “Alright, let’s call it a night here… I’ll get you cleaned up, sire. ” He turned to glare sharply at the Sceptile, staring blankly into the distance. “And you Cel Go get yourself a drink. We’ll talk about this later.”

    “I-I didn’t mean to…” Alan continued hysterically sobbing in the Aggron’s arms as the pair of them hurried away from the throne room.

    The hell was plunged into peaceful darkness once more as the last of the candles blew out. At the center stood Celeste, frozen in terror. She remained motionless, staring absentmindedly at the monarch’s throne, ink slowly dripping from the bottle overturned in the commotion. Tears streamed down her glassy eyes as the last of her mania dissipated, clarity hitting her like a brick wall. She fell to her knees, wasting the night away silently wallowing in despair and guilt.



    The next few days passed without incident. Little by little, the stack of paperwork that had accumulated began to slowly shrink, allowing the Vulpix more time to himself. He spent his rare moments of solitude wandering around the castle, etching more and more of its winding hallways into his memory.

    Melissa still had not returned, yet none of the royals aside from Alan seemed to heed any mind towards her disappearance. The nobles seemed to have returned to their duties as well, leaving only the multitude of workers mulling about the castle at any given time.

    Hikaru had almost entirely recovered from the incident a few days prior. There was still a slight wobble in his step, yet with the support of Chai he managed his return to his post well enough. The pair of Pokemon resumed their duties of shadowing Alan, assisting him whenever needed.

    Celeste felt the most distant from Alan. She remained in the throne room whenever he worked, occasionally barking orders at others. Yet she felt… distant and reserved, avoiding any form of extended interaction with the Vulpix.

    More papers filed in, Alan sighing tiredly as he hopped back upon his cushion. The last few days of monotonous stamping were fatiguing, each seal seemingly placed upon something less and less important.

    Is this all that Edward did in his past lives? Alan thought to himself. Neither the Serperior nor Necrozma had contacted him at all in the last few nights.

    A small thought bubbled to the top of his mind. What if this isn’t how I’m supposed to take things… What if I failed both of them? Edward… he wanted to see Melissa one more time, yet she hadn’t set foot in the castle since that night. Necrozma… Morgan’s still rotting in the dungeons, and I’m barely doing anything to help him at all…

    He rubbed his eyes with his un-inked paw, trying to push away the paranoia and stress that had spread across his mind. Yet, no matter how hard he pushed back, the same thought continued to resurface. Frustrated, he slapped his own cheeks, accidentally swatting the nearest pile of paperwork in the process.

    “S-Sorry!” He apologized as he slipped off his throne, hastily gathering the papers that had fluttered across the room. A familiar picture froze him in place: A yellow Jangmo-o, pink scales chipped and dented, restrained with layers upon layers of chains. The document the image was tied to was marked with a red “URGENT” symbol. Without wasting a moment, Alan brushed away all the other documents piled atop it so that he could read its contents.


    URGENT
    DATED: 45G0 2WA 4
    THIS DOCUMENT IS TO BE READ BY ONLY THOSE WITH SECURITY CLEARANCE LEVEL 3 OR HIGHER, STORE THIS DOCUMENT AT PRISON VAULTS #1, FLOOR 1 ROW 3 ONLY


    NOTICE OF EXECUTION
    PRISONER SPECIES: JANGMO-O (DISCOLORED)
    PRISONER ID: A-119

    PRISONER REMAINS UNCOOPERATIVE. DECLAWING THERAPY HAS BEEN LARGELY UNSUCCESSFUL - CLAWS UNDAMAGED AND MIRACULOUSLY HEALED AFTER 1WX 15

    RECOMMENDATION OF EXECUTION WITHOUT TRIAL RECEIVED AND CONSIDERED
    DECISION: APPROVED FOR EXECUTION

    DATE OF EXECUTION: 45G0 2WA 6


    “N-No… N-Not like this…” Alan stumbled backward, still clutching tightly onto the piece of paper. He looked around frantically, racking his brain trying to come up with any solution. “There has to be a way… There has to be a way!”

    Celeste rushed in to assist the Vulpix, face laden with concern. “What’s wrong, your Majesty?”

    “T-This has to be a mistake!” Alan stammered, pointing towards the document in his paw. “I just met him recently! He’s not a threat to us at all!”

    The Sceptile narrowed her eyes. “I believe you are mistaken, sire. A-119 is a threat to all those who serve you, and therefore by proxy your own safety and well-being. I was the one to recommend his execution, we cannot risk the integrity of your throne in any way, your Highness.”

    “No! I-I don’t accept!” Alan replied. He was panicking. My one objective! I can’t lose him! There has to be another way!

    “It is clear your judgment may still be misled by that visit. Let me reiterate one more time, your grace. He is dangerous. He killed one of your workers, and I have reason to suspect you will be next provided the opportunity arises. He must be purged.”

    Malice shone in Celeste’s gaze, her crazed stare sending shudders rippling down Alan’s body. His desperate determination prevailed, however, as he steeled his nerves to reply.

    “No! I refuse! I… I use my power! I won’t sign it!” Alan shouted. His reply stunned the Sceptile, who stepped back to process the Vulpix’s response. “I’m heading down to him right now! I’ll prove to you he’s not what you think!”

    He began making his way towards the door, though before he could leave a strong tug on his robe sent him tumbling backwards. Celeste, regressing back to her psychotic self, smiled creepily at Alan.

    Oh, Edward… I thought we went over this~ You don’t have a say in this…”

    “I don’t care! I-It’s my right! Let me go, Celeste!”

    You have no rights, Edward!”

    Alan fell backward, unsure of what to make of the Sceptile's words. His facade was fading, the situation was even less in his control now.

    “You relinquished them the moment you allowed us into your life! ” A pause. “ And now you’re going to sit the fuck back down and sign that Arceus-damned document. Understand?

    A voice in the back of his mind beckoned for him. A familiar tone, repeating familiar chants. It compelled him, washing away his hesitation and fear, replaced instead by confidence and delusion. His body began to glow with the same familiar, warm light. Alan returned Celeste’s manic stare with a determined glare of his own.

    “Y’know… I think I’m done…” He lifted himself back up, knees bent, eyes locked on the exit. “...I’m done faking it! I’m gonna go see him, and you can't stop me!”

    His last few words rang out as he kicked off. He burst through the doorway before the Sceptile could react, zipping down the hallway in a blur of white and gold.

    “Stop him! Block his way! Do something!”

    The glow that encased Alan dissipated, yet the Vulpix continued to sprint down the hallway at full speed. He couldn’t afford to slow down, especially with Celeste’s crazed screaming echoing down the hallway.

    The workers stood by and watched with confusion as Alan raced past. A few attempted to block the way, but Alan simply weaved past, their movements slow and clunky compared to the Vulpix’s desperate sprint.

    Utilizing the mental map etched into his memory he bolted down the long, winding hallways. The panicked and confused screaming behind him grew louder and louder as the hallways grew larger and larger in size.

    More guards stood in his way, a few pointing spears in his direction but most having cast their weapons aside, arms wide in preparation to catch him.

    “B-By the decree of the king! Let me through!” Alan screamed as he skidded to a halt. A few of the of the guards closest to him hesitated, conflicting orders scrambling their minds. A Dewott stepped in from the left, spear pointed at Alan.

    “Your grace! F-Forgive us… there have been orders to ignore you…” He bowed slightly, eyes remaining locked upon the Vulpix. “As much as I wish to disobey, we must capture you here…” He raised his spear, signaling his compatriots to surround Alan.

    Ah. So that’s how Edward had it… Alan thought to himself. He eyed the Dewott as they inched closer, readying their own spear in preparation for combat.

    In the corner of his vision, Alan spotted a cloud growing. The cloud darkened rapidly as it shadowed the group of Pokemon, just as suddenly pelting everyone surrounding the Vulpix with shards of ice and hail.

    “Gah!” The Dewott cried, dropping his spear to cover his head with his scalchops. “How can it be hailing in– Sire! I-Is that Snow Warning?!”

    The Vulpix took the opportunity to break free, freezing the Dewott’s legs to the ground with a well-placed powder snow. The other guards backed away in fear of the same fate possibly befalling them.

    “I’m sorry… But I need to go.” Alan coldly stated, rushing past the half-frozen dewott, still continually pelted by the hailstorm locked above their head.

    In time, he located the castle entrance, squeezing past a tiny gap left wide open and unguarded in the ongoing commotion. He paused for a moment, panting the adrenaline flowing through his burning muscles slowly dissipating.

    The sun cast long shadows across the courtyard. Alan took just a moment to reorient himself, a combination of fresh air and sheer determination reinvigorating his fatigued self back into a running pace. He hadn’t been allowed to leave the castle since he last met with Morgan, it wasn’t like he could stop to appreciate the smells and sights now anyway.

    He slowed his approach as he reached the dungeon’s entrance. Fortunately, the Pokemon that once guarded the entryway was nowhere to be found, likely whipped up in the frenzy that had now taken hold of the entire castle’s populace. The cells that lined the walls remained mostly unchanged, holding near-unconscious prisoners bound in chains.

    They no longer mattered for the time being, however, for the only cell that did stood in front of him. The same notice that Alan read was pasted in front, the bolded red “URGENT” only further fueling Alan’s determination.

    Mustering every last bit of strength the mysterious light could provide him with, he pelted the doorway with his ice shards. The door burst open with a loud crash , fragments of ice and shrapnel raining down upon his surroundings.

    Morgan laid on the rotting nest in the center of the room, stirring from the commotion Alan had caused. Only a single chain tied around his neck attached him to the looplets on the back wall. Another well-aimed ice shard zipped past, slicing the metal in half with ease.

    In a panic, the Jangmo-o whipped around, fangs bared, prepared to attack. Yet, his eyes widened with recognition as the Vulpix approached.

    “Y-You?!? What are you–”

    “Morgan, we have to go. Now.”



    AN: Aaaand we're fully caught up! I had hoped to have a few more chapters to post by this point but things got in the way. Next chapter drops at the same time as on AO3, FFN, and PMDFF.
     
    Chapter 11 - Unchivalrous Escapade
  • Turkeyuwu

    Rhythm Gamer
    Location
    Thailand
    Pronouns
    He/Him | They/Them
    Chapter 11 - Unchivalrous Escapade

    The King on the throne twists and thrashes, trying to approach… but the things that bind drags him away.

    It tries to say something… but its mouth is bound.

    The beautiful yet cruel crimson strips of fabric. They pull mercilessly. They are bandages, made to heal. But he will bleed out as soon as these bandages are undone.

    To maintain his shape… he must remain bound…

    …but the wounds bound by the bandages rot away little by little; nothing indicates that they are healing. They serve only to hide the hideous wounds, not to heal them…

    …or are they chains, made to imprison…

    He will endlessly struggle against the chains to be free. To regain his authority. To speak the words unuttered, bound by the chains.

    - Bound King | Limbus Company



    “We have to go. Now.”

    “Alan you…” Morgan paused. The Vulpix standing in front of him looked terrible, nearly about as bad as his own condition. Alan was hunched over panting, his robe covered in dust and grime from what had just unfolded above ground. “...What’s going on Alan? Ya look terrible!”

    “Leave… we need to–”

    Alan collapsed into a twitching mess on the ground, staring at the Jangmo-o with his unfocused eyes. He pawed the ground in front of him, a pathetic attempt at righting himself.

    “Ngh…”

    “Kiddo? What’s wrong?” Morgan asked, the shock and fear in his eyes slowly turned into concern. “What did they do to you…”

    Freed from his chains, Morgan rushed over to Alan’s side. He laid beside the Vulpix, sliding his body under him so that Alan’s head remained propped up while his paws kept the fox pinned against his pink scales.

    Alan squirmed in protest, yet the Jangmo-o did not let go. He continued holding the Vulpix down, his other front paw petting him until his breathing slowed.

    “What’s going on Alan?” Morgan asked. He was careful to keep his tone soft, to not further agitate the distressed Vulpix.

    “We can’t stay here… You–” Alan broke away, turning back around to face Morgan. Reaching into his tail he produced the document he grabbed during his escape, creased and partially torn at the edges from a hasty attempt at rolling the parchment up as the chaos unfolded.

    “They… T-They want you dead… E-executed… Tonight.”

    The Jangmo-o returned a blank stare. He chuckled hoarsely as he slumped over onto the slightly damp ground beneath. “Hah. Figured.” he sighed, defeated by his own thoughts.

    “Figured?! What the hell do you mean figured !?” Alan tugged at Morgan’s pink scales with his mouth, attempting to pull the Jangmo-o back to his feet. “You can’t just sit here and let them kill you! I’m not letting them do that!”

    Morgan shook Alan off, turning away as he curled into an even tighter ball. “Kiddo… You just don’t get it, do you? I killed someone. Someone important at that…”

    “So what? They screwed you and your family over! I-It doesn’t matter when they definitely deserved it!”

    “That’s just how it works, kid.” Morgan sighed as he shuffled back atop his nest. “You kill someone important, and that’s it for you. It’s not fair but… what even ever is fair in this kingdom?”

    “B-but we can change that, right?!” Alan gripped his head in frustration. His claws inadvertently extended, sending a slight jolt of pain to his skull as they jabbed at his skin.

    But he didn’t care. He continued to rack his head, still trying to process Morgan’s response. “You promised me we would get out of here together! What about that?!”

    “I lied, Alan.” Morgan deadpanned. “You’re young and naive. I didn’t want you to spiral further when we first met, so I lied to you. To give you hope, and to stop you from crying more.”

    The Jangmo-o continued. “I know my family is out there, maybe. But… I’ve already accepted I’m probably never seeing them again. That’s just how life works, I guess.”

    Alan was stunned. He had assumed escaping from the royal cabinet’s near-dictatorial grip on his and Edward’s life would be the most difficult part, though it seemed like pulling Morgan out of his despairing state would prove to be an even more monumental task.

    “But you can’t! I promised Necrozma… I promised you!” Tears welled up in the Vulpix’s golden eyes. “You promised me…”

    “No Alan I-”

    “And why did you wait so long, even?” Alan interrupted, his voice both shaky yet assertive. “I-If you accepted you were going to die then why hold on for so long?”

    “Because of you!” Morgan snapped. “You probably know more than me. Something went wrong up there, then everything down here stopped…”

    “...”

    “Heck, we weren’t even fed for a long while.” The pink Jangmo-o shrugged and turned his head back towards the cell walls, hiding away the tears that had begun to form in his eyes. “They were waiting to bring you back so they could go on their merry way of executing prisoners again. I never had a say in any of this, to begin with…”

    Despite Morgan’s best efforts, tears began to stream down his cheeks, pooling into a damp divot in his nest. He shuddered, pulling his paws up to further obscure his face from Alan.

    “Just leave me, Alan. Go back. It’s easier just to give up now and deal with whatever you’ve got going on up there than to have to deal with this mess down here…”

    “I can’t…” Alan replied. “I’m in too deep as well… They would drag me back to that room a-and torture me back into submission.”

    Alan walked up towards Morgan, rolling the Jangmo-o so that he at least faced Alan. His once-yellow cheeks were flushed red, two streaks of tears joining together around the fluff on the dragon’s chest.

    “So no, I refuse to back down. I’m getting you out of here.”

    Morgan’s face scrunched, sadness and melancholy replaced with annoyance and frustration. He swiped at the Vulpix, intentionally missing though still managing to force Alan to back off once more.

    “You don’t get it, do you?” He growled. “Just look at yourself! You can’t fight them all off like this! I don’t matter in the grand scheme of things anyways…”

    Alan shook his head furiously in disagreement. “I can’t… I need you…”

    The Jangmo-o only glared back disapprovingly. “Do you need me, or is it Neco-what's-his-name-ma that truly wants me? Come on kid, even I can tell you’re being disingenuous”

    “N-No! It’s not like that that! I-I mean Necrozma does want me to rescue you but I…”

    Alan hesitated for a moment to recollect himself. His cheeks flushed red like Morgan’s cheeks. “I want you as well, Morgan.”

    The pink dragon was enchanted, Alan’s words freezing him in place. His cheeks flushed an even deeper red as he felt the Vulpix’s warm fluff brush up against his scales.

    “I might be desperate… No… I-I definitely am. But you’re the only person who actually listened to me…” Alan admitted, ignoring the Jangmo-o’s flustered sputters. “I have no one else to stick to right now. Please, Morgan… Please get up… Let’s get out of here together… I need you.

    Morgan remained silent, gently clicking his claws and ruminating over Alan’s begging. The cell fell back into a tense silence, broken only by the occasional sniffle coming from the Vulpix, who had prostrated himself at the Jangmo-o’s feet as he begged. There didn’t seem to be any guards approaching the cell, yet Morgan could still sense the urgency in the air.

    He had to be decisive. A rash, impulse decision had landed him in this cell, and an equally reckless one was going to be his ticket out of there.

    “Alright… If you believe I’m that worth it...” Morgan relented. He held Alan by his chin, slowly pulling it higher and closer so that their eyes locked.

    “Then I’ll promise you this. We’re in this together now. You give your all for me, and I’ll give my all for you.”

    Alan only managed a soft nod before the Jangmo-o collapsed atop his body, crushing the Vulpix under his deep embrace. As much as Alan wanted to break away, the warmth kept him immobilized. Surely, he thought to himself, we can spend just a little more time in here, right?



    The rattling of chains and hurried footsteps filled the air as the pair dashed down the long, narrow hallways of the Royal Dungeons. Alan, still donning his robe and crown, led the way for his newfound companion. Morgan followed close behind, tightly holding onto a chain hastily tied to one of the Vulpix’s tails with his jaw to ensure they wouldn’t lose one another.

    Their surroundings were unnaturally quiet. Though the low hum of suffering should have echoed all around, their surroundings were entirely silent. Aside from the Vulpix and Jangmo-o, it seemed as if no other soul was present in the dungeons.

    That’s good for us, then. Alan thought as he turned another corner. Maybe Celeste is still gathering guards… hopefully we can slip out before we meet them…

    Alan’s hopes were dashed as they rounded the corner, however. The light seeping in from the outside blinded the pair of escapees, though through his blurred vision, they still managed to spot a trio of guards blocking their path.

    A spear whistled through the air, barely grazing the Vulpix’s ear as it stabbed into the wall behind him, causing him to skid to a halt. Morgan followed suit, still holding on tightly to the chain in his jaw.

    Alan felt the blood dripping from his ear run cold as his eyes adjusted to the light. A Dewott, the same Dewott that he had snuck past those many days ago. Beneath the thin armor, the otter was covered in fresh bandages, presumably from having been subjected to Celeste’s training regiment recently.

    The otter was flanked by a Drizzile and Torracat, both also sporting bandages under their armor. The Drizzile seemed to be missing their spear, having launched it at the Vulpix moments ago. The two Pokemon behind the Dewott eyed the two escapees with unease, though the Dewott’s expression remained stoic.

    “A-Apologies, Your Highness! Madame Celeste ordered us to–”

    “Quit it with the apologies already! Don’t you remember what Celeste told us? That… thing. That’s not our king anymore! Just fire away! I’ll deal with the consequences later!” The Dewott scolded the Drizzile.

    The trio straightened their stances, though the Dewott especially seemed to be struggling. He winced at the slightest twitch of his muscles, having assumedly taken the hardest beating out of the three under the Sceptile’s ‘care’.

    “Go for Edward! The prisoner we can re-capture later!”

    Another spear grazed past Alan, this time from the Torracat. He had remained silent the whole time, slipping from Alan’s focus entirely. Another fireball followed, landing just short of the Vulpix’s toes.

    “Gah! Wait!” Alan pleaded. “You don’t have to fight us! Just let us leave, a-and we won’t be a bother to you anymore!”

    “Apologies, Your Highness. Celeste’s orders trump all.”

    The Dewott dropped his other spear, readying a large net beside him instead. With another signal from their leader the Drizzile and Torracat inched forward, trembling as they unslung their backup weapons as well, pointing them at the Jangmo-o’s neck.

    “But it doesn’t have to!” Alan shouted, pausing the guard’s advance. “Look at yourselves! She’s abusing you all! Why would you ever want to work under her?”

    “Before her, I was nothing. Without her, I am no one. Madame Celeste gave me purpose.” The Dewott tightened his grip on the net. “These bandages are the marks of my servitude, for I owe everything to her.”

    “So you’re sayin’...” Morgan interjected. “She bought ya. She gives you a bed and armor, and you give her a body to essentially kick around? Wouldn’t be too fond of that deal if I were you, kiddo.”

    “Shut up! You slum fucks don’t get it, do you?” The otter's face was red with rage. He raised his arms, stringing the net up over his head. “None of you good-for-nothing, freeloading scum ever had any goals in life to begin with!”

    “I used to be like you… Scrounging around in the mud and trash, ripping into any pile of garbage I could just so I could lie around another day longer…”

    “So what? Not like you sleazy royals ever wanted to help us anyway!” Morgan retorted.

    “Scum! The lot of you! When you stuck your heads into the ground, I chose to rise instead! I chose to work, to better myself! Celeste picked me and my colleagues out of the dump because she saw the strength in us! You had nothing, and you will never have anything! You are worthless!”

    “Enough! Your pretentious ass ain’t worth shit either! It took seven of your useless asses to take me down!” Morgan ridiculed, waving his tail in the air mockingly. “Wanna prove you don’t belong with me down here? Come at me then!”

    A new voice entered the fray. One that struck fear and dread deep into everyone in the vicinity, freezing them all in their tracks. Slow clapping accompanied, with disappointment and anger overflowing from her voice. Alan’s heart dropped once he recognized who the voice belonged to.

    Oh no… Alan shuddered. A tall, shadowy figure blotted out the rest of the sunlight emanating from the exit, plunging the dungeon entrance back into a temporary darkness.

    “Playtime’s over, Edward~”

    A stone claymore struck the ground beside Alan, sending shockwaves rippling throughout. Alan retreated back to Morgan’s side as a Sceptile stepped into the center of the cavern.

    “It’s time to come home, sweetie~” Celeste’s eyes were bloodshot, the nerves lining her head crests seemingly ready to burst out at any point. A creepy smile snaked across her face, fangs bared underneath her scarred beak. “Who will run the kingdom if not you, Edward?”

    Alan and Morgan both stepped forward, facing down the crazed Sceptile. The Jangmo-o cowered, ears flattened against his scales. The Vulpix similarly trembled, though only for a moment. His golden eyes lit up as a flame of rage and adrenaline wiped away the last of his fear. He stood his ground, glaring back angrily at Celeste.

    “And why don’t you run it yourself, Celeste?” Alan shot back. “This past week, you haven’t even let me do anything! No wonder Edward hates his role as king so much! He’s just a puny slave to your schemes!”

    “Edward… Oh, Edward! How could you!” The Sceptile gasped teasingly, seemingly yet to take the situation seriously.

    Will you stop calling me Edward already?” Alan hissed. A few shards of ice angrily launched out of his mouth towards Celeste. “How many times do I need to tell you? Your king is gone! Not like his input ever mattered anyway…”

    Celeste froze, clarity returning to her mind for just a moment as she processed the Vulpix’s words. Alan’s ice shard struck her left shoulder, leaving but a tiny scratch on the Sceptile’s scaly body.

    “But… E-Edward…”

    “Edward this, Edward that! He’s not coming back to solve the problems you caused!”

    The Sceptile remained silent. Her hands trembled, barely able to hold onto her weapon. The smile once plastered across her face had all but melted away, leaving only a deep frown in its stead.

    “All you do is prance around with your little posse of guards or whatever, leaving everyone else to clean up your mess!”

    “How could you… Edward… Everything I did was for you…”

    “For me? What in the hell have you done for me?” Alan refused to let up. He was red with anger, barely able to catch a breath as he continued laying into the Sceptile.

    “You kidnapped me, dragged me into the dungeons just to perform your wack-ass magic on me! You spit on me, called me a feral, starved me, then threw me in prison! You see me as your king right? Is this how you treat your kings around here?”

    The Sceptile didn’t reply. She remained knelt over clutching her own head crests, allowing her claws to dig deep into her scales, blood staining the fluff on her jacket a dirty crimson.

    “Be consistent damn it!! One day you’re dragging me around and treating me like crap, and the next you’re almost revering me like a god!”

    Celeste jerked her head back up, staring directly into the Vulpix’s eyes. Her eyes were bloodshot, glistening in the dim light of the exit.

    “I just… wanted you back… Edward…” She whispered. Between her weak raspy breaths she began to slowly crawl towards the fox, while the rest of the guards took the opportunity to retreat back and outside the dungeon.

    I can’t get a solid read on her… Alan mused. Celeste slowly inched closer, yet the Vulpix stood firm. She’s convinced I’m still Edward, yet she still basically treats me like an animal half the time… Is this what Edward also went through?

    Alan glanced back at Morgan, who looked as disgusted and confused as he was. He stood a short distance away, prepared to pounce or bolt away at a moment’s notice.

    His vision jerked back as two leafy claws ran up his cheeks, grasping the sides of his head as they forced it back towards the Sceptile, who sat mere inches away from his face. A cold sweat ran down his forehead as Celeste gently clawed the sides of Alan’s face.


    Is she… playing with me…? No, she’s…!

    “Eugh! Creep!” He staggered away, retreating back to relative safety behind the pink Jangmo-o. He wiped away the lizard’s drool that had dripped behind his ears. “What is wrong with you! Why can’t you leave me alone! Edward never told me that you attempted to eat him!”

    “So he lives! Your Highness!” Celeste shouted, scrambling back onto her feet in a panic. “Break free! Overpower the imposter! Please! I beg you!”

    “He’s not coming back! Argh! How many times do I have to tell you! He doesn’t want to anymore!

    “Lies! Misinformation! Y-You dirty… parasite! You cannot speak for His Majesty! Demon! Leave him be!”

    The Sceptile was rapidly losing it. That, at the very least, was clear to everyone who remained in the dungeon. Her pupils constricted, the creepy grin returning as she stood herself back up to tower over the pair once more.

    “Daemon! Hear it from me now! I shall be the one to purge you from His Majesty's mind! You have caused nothing but pain and suffering to our lord! Begone, you disgusting freak!”

    “Ugh! Why are you being so damn difficult!” Alan hissed. He knew his words were probably no longer reaching Celeste, yet that didn’t matter. His words only served to remind himself anyway. “You can’t see it, can you? All of this! Edward leaving you! The kingdom going to shit! Me taking his place! It’s your fault, Celeste!”

    “My fault?” Her concentration snapped back onto the Vulpix. The last of her sense of self melted away, replaced instead by the original crazed, bloodthirsty lizard Alan expected her to be. “Horseshit! The fault lies with you, Edward! All of it!”

    “Kiddo! Watch out!”

    Before Alan could reply, he felt his vision lurch sideways as Morgan pushed him aside. Celeste suddenly appeared in front of Morgan as both her leafy claws collapsed onto the dragon’s scales, rebounding off them with a powerful clang. More attacks rained down as the Sceptile continued to hack and slash at the Jangmo-o’s body.

    Alan’s vision quickly returned as he instinctively recoiled back, an ice shard growing in his mouth as he prepared an attack in retaliation.

    “Umph!” Morgan grimaced at the flurry of blows landing on him, yet he managed to stand firm as he kept himself between Celeste and Alan.

    “Leave him alone, ya crazy bitch!” he screamed over the commotion, scales still raised as he continued to shield Alan from Celeste’s attacks. “He’s not your little plaything! Why don’t ya screw off and go find another king yourself, huh?”

    “Shut up, trash! I should have killed you when I had the chance! You don’t know anything! Your kind doesn’t belong here! You don’t belong anywhere!”

    A shard of ice whizzed through the air, striking Celeste square in the Jaw. She halted for a moment, though it was more than ample opportunity for her to retaliate. The Jangmo-o’s scales glowed a vibrant red as he refocused his pain onto a single, powerful beam.

    The Sceptile backed away as she coalesced a mass of vines in front of her, blocking the majority of the beam. She unfurled her vines, ripping off those that had been burned by the attack.

    “Useless, useless, useless!”

    The Sceptile’s malicious smile widened as she brandished her claymore, ripping off her jacket in the process. A cloud began to form on the ceiling of the cavern, tiny droplets of ice raining across the room.

    “It’s truly a shame, Edward~” The Sceptile taunted mockingly. Her pupils darted about, insanity fully taking ahold of the Sceptile. “We’ve trained together for generations, and this is all it amounts to?”

    Celeste laughed to herself maniacally as she swatted away the hail raining upon her. Her image blurred once more as she zipped across the battlefield, her claymore dragging along beside her before connecting directly with Morgan. The Jangmo-o was sent flying, crashing into the rocky wall beside the Vulpix.

    A pained grunt was all Alan could hear from the dragon as he collapsed under the pile of rubble that had formed atop him.

    “Morgan!” Alan screamed. He snapped back to face Celeste, shooting more ice shards in her direction.

    “Absolutely garbage!” Celeste mocked, skillfully blocking each ice shard with her blade. “What’s the matter? Can’t kill someone who actually knows how to fight?”

    The Sceptile was unrelenting in her approach and sprinted towards the two once more. Sparks formed as she arced her weapon across the ground once more. Alan barely managed to turn away as the claymore struck his gut, sending him flying across the room into the opposite wall as well.

    “Gah…” Alan squeaked. His robe had absorbed most of the impact, yet he still felt the pain of what should’ve been multiple broken ribs.

    “It’s alright, Edward~” Celeste licked her bloodshot eyes as she loomed over an unmoving Alan. “I can fix you, Edward. We can start over… reset you… we can try again. We can make this work. Again. Hehe~”

    Celeste grabbed the fallen Vulpix by his neck, raising him so that their eyes met. Her grip was much rougher this time, while Alan struggled much less, his entire body still reeling from the hit.

    “Celeste- I… Please…”

    “Mmm~” The Sceptile’s grin merely deepened in response.“ Good… That’s it… There’s no need to struggle, Edward… It’ll be over soon enough~”

    Alan was too tired to fight back, too injured to struggle, too much in fear to even return Celeste’s stare. I’m too weak… He lamented as the leafy claws around his neck dug further into his flesh. Edward… Necrozma… I’ll do anything… Please…

    He began to drift away, vision darkening as he continued to choke. A silent whimper, his last cry for help, remained unheard as the Sceptile merely carried on with glee.

    “Get your clammy ass hands off him!”

    Morgan slammed into Celeste, his entire body glowing a hot red in an outrage as he pivoted, landing on her arms. He desperately tried to free the Vulpix, smashing his head scale into her claws with as much force as he could muster.

    “Let! Go! You! Piece! Of! Shit!” Morgan repeated between each head smash. Sheer determination fueled him. Even as the outrage wore off he continued.

    Even as his eyes crossed and confusion took hold of him he carried on. Even as blood seeped and dribbled down his forehead, or as his own words slurred, he kept at it.

    He couldn’t accept it. His savior, choking to death at the hands of the same Pokemon that had ruined his life.

    “Let go! LET HIM GO!”

    The Jangmo-o attempted once more at bashing his head into Celeste’s arms, though in his confusion his head scale instead met between her eyes. Celeste dropped the near-unconscious Vulpix as she recoiled in pain, flinging him off to the side as her crazed glare instead landed upon Morgan, still stumbling around in his panicked confusion.

    “Hah… serves ya right… ya crazy… bitch…”

    Alan despaired. Through his blurry vision he could see the pink dragon collapse, blabbering nonsense to himself as the confusion sapped at his will to fight.

    No… It can’t end like this… I– There has to be another way…

    Alan tried to cry out, yet his entire body fought back. His vision was dimming again. He dipped in and out of consciousness as he watched Morgan slowly drift off as well.

    Edward… Someone… Necrozma… Please! Anything! It can’t end like this!

    The Sceptile approached once more. Her smile had vanished, leaving only an angry yet confused glare. She kicked Morgan’s body aside, turning away to play with the dragon’s unmoving body as she slowly flicked him around with her feet, giggling silently to herself as she ignored the Vulpix in her madness.

    “Hm…”

    What…? Alan mentally stammered. Who was– Necrozma?

    Black crystals enveloped the corner of Alan’s vision as an apparition of Necrozma appeared in front, looming over Alan as he eyed the downed Vulpix with his pitying eyes.

    “Necrozma… I–” Alan tried calling out, his voice hoarse and much too quiet for anyone else to hear. “Help me… Please. Morgan… h-he’s going to–”

    The Snowy fox broke into a coughing fit as he begged. He could barely make out the crystalline hallucination shaking his head, dismayed at Alan’s own incompetence.

    “Disappointing. I expected more after your training, human. Though… I suppose some assistance would also prove beneficial to me.”

    Necrozma’s claws grasped around a tiny extrusion growing off his chest, breaking off a small chunk of jet-black crystal and tossing it towards Alan. The crystal glowed as it sailed through the air, landing on the Vulpix as a ball of light before dissipating across the Vulpix’s body.

    “We will discuss how this debt shall be repaid later, little Alan.”

    Alan’s vision cleared as the hallucinatory figure disappeared in a flash. He felt feverish, uncomfortably so. The heat was near unbearable, Alan writhing about violently as he felt strength return into his muscles.

    The heat dissipated as rapidly as it came, though the side effects remained. Alan felt reinvigorated, wounds closed and bruises healed, enough so to stand back up to face down the manic Sceptile once more. He glowed an effulgent yellow, illuminating the darkened cavern walls with his radiance enough for Celeste to take notice.

    She snapped around, leg placed atop Morgan and pinning him to the ground. Her eyes sparkled, a river of tears streaming down her cheeks.

    “Edward…? Is it t-truly you? M-my liege! His Majesty, h-he has returned!”

    Alan rolled his eyes. He was fed up with this insane Sceptile mistaking him for the king she allegedly revered oh so much again and again.

    “Stop it.” Alan said blankly. “I’m still who I was twenty seconds ago, Celeste. You’re just plain delusional.”

    “Haha! Your sense of humor remains well, I see!” Celeste ignored Alan as she laughed to herself, the Sceptile falling further into insanity. “Let us return quickly, Your Highness. We may even make it back in time for dinner if we run~”

    “Celeste.” Alan’s expression darkened as he watched the Sceptile continue beating the Jangmo-o. His hailstorm began to slowly form once more as he neared his limit. “Look at me for a moment.”

    “Yes, sire?”

    “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He growled, pointing at Morgan’s unmoving body.

    “Edward… I–”

    “No more! Stay off of Morgan, for fucks sake!” Alan screamed. The hail intensified, winds speeding up while each individual hailstone grew to the size of an Oran berry. “I’m going to say this one last time, okay?”

    “Edward is dead , Celeste! He hates this kingdom, and he hates you!” Alan glowed brighter, his surroundings cooling rapidly. “I’m leaving this stupid place and I’m taking Morgan with me! Whether you like it or not, you crazy bitch!”

    A radiant beam of gold and ice ripped through the air, directly toward Celeste. It tore through layers and layers of the Sceptile’s protective vines as she staggered backward, only barely able to defend against the first beam of ice.

    Alan’s pupils disappeared into his eyes' golden glow as he fired another stronger, colder ice beam. Celeste defended with her arms, her leafy scales shattering under the raw power of the attack.

    “Uraaagh!”

    She recoiled in shock. Her arms were frozen together, a thick coating of solid ice froze her torso into the guarding stance she had taken in shielding herself against the ice beam.

    “Sit.”

    A flurry of snow and ice rained down upon the battlefield The already frozen Sceptile lay unable to escape the crushing weight of the pure snow piled atop her. As the field cleared and the snow melted away the results of the battle became apparent. She cocked her head and glared at the victorious Vulpix standing in front of her, the crushing weight of the ice keeping her body immobilized.

    “I’m sorry, Celeste. But I can’t keep this up anymore. This is for the good of everyone.” Alan calmly remarked, brushing the last bits of hail and snow off of his robe and fur. “Just… stay here for a while. Please.

    “Edward…? Edward! Let me go! Edward! Fight back! I know you’re still there! Help me! Please!” Celeste cried. “Guards! Guards! Stop them! Anyone!

    Alan tuned out the sound of her desperate crying, instead rushing over to Morgan’s aid. He rummaged through his robe, procuring the crushed remains of a reviver seed and Oran berry. It more closely resembled a pile of mush with bits of seed sticking out, but it would get the job done. He shoved half of the mixture into the Jangmo-o’s mouth, before lathering the other half over Morgan’s head and body.

    Morgan’s eyes flitted open in an instant. He squirmed a little as the numerous wounds on his head and belly rapidly closed up.

    “Urgh…”

    “Morgan!” Alan exclaimed, squeezing the dragon into a tight hug in relief.

    “Urk! Still sore!”

    “Ah! Sorry!” Alan quickly backed away, allowing Morgan to stand on his own. The Jangmo-o smiled, ears fluttering gratefully in response.

    “So… Celeste. She been dealt with?” Morgan asked. “And thanks again, by the way. For saving me.”

    Alan merely gestured at the frozen Sceptile with a prideful grin as he cheerfully giggled. Morgan let out a sigh of relief of his own, before slowly making his way toward the now unblocked exit.

    “Heh. Serves her right. Crazy bitch deserved worse if anything.” Morgan chuckled. “Let’s get outta here, Alan.”



    The pair fled the scene, leaving the wailing Sceptile behind. Alan’s glow dissipated shortly after their battle, allowing the two to slip quietly into the darkness that now enshrouded the castle grounds.

    Alan could barely make out anything in the dim light of the new moon, relying only on the slight shine of the Everstone implanted into Morgan’s tail as he led the way. Occasionally they swerved off the pathway, hiding in between some bushes as the bright torchlight from the multitude of royal guards searching for them crossed their path.

    In the distance Alan spotted a huge congregation of guards. They camped atop a bridge, the only bridge crossing the huge moat that isolated the castle from the rest of the world.

    “Defensive ramparts, lookout towers, and like… over twenty guards.” Morgan whispered as he watched the group of Pokemon from atop a nearby hill. He shook his head in annoyance. “We’re not getting through that. Ever.”

    “S-so what then? I don’t think theres another way out. ” Alan replied. “We could swim across, but I don’t know if I can swim that far…”

    Morgan rubbed his head scale, contemplating. “Well I sure can’t, so that’s off the table. Let’s get a bit closer though, I don’t wanna have that crazy lizard sneak up and ambush us from the trees.”

    “Let’s head down there then.” Alan said, pointing towards a small ledge jutting off the edge of the cliff. A tiny rocky ledge connected it to the base of the bridge, hidden away from the torchlight of the guards stationed directly above.

    The duo skittered towards the ledge, making sure to say just out of range of the illuminating torchlight. Alan was afraid the guards would notice them as they approached, with him now out in the open with no bushes to dive into for safety. However the guards seemed tired and distracted, the stress and overwork Celeste subjected them to being the most likely the cause. They didn’t seem to stir from their near trance-like state, even as the Vulpix and Jangmo-o appeared within their sight.

    This is all wrong… Alan lamented. He kept glancing back at the guards milling about above him as they worked towards the base of the bridge. They don’t even want to do this… I hate this. I hate it all so much…

    With some effort the pair managed to scramble atop the stone base of the bridge. As they rested Morgan tugged on the Vulpix’s tail, grabbing his attention.

    “I’ve figured it out.” The Jangmo-o said, grinning slightly. “We can still cross the bridge, just beneath it instead. The catwalk’s usually inaccessible, so they never cared to fortify it as well.”

    “B-but what then? We don’t have anywhere to go, r-right?” Alan stressed, raising his voice slightly yet still being mindful of the Pokemon above. “I-I don’t even know what’s out there…”

    Alan put his paws up, watching as they trembled in his anxiety. “Sorry… I-I know I shouldn’t be acting like this. But…” He trailed off, moving his paws up to hold his head.

    “I’m scared! Nothing makes sense! I-I don’t know what to–”

    Morgan interrupted the Vulpix, pulling Alan into a tight hug with one paw while petting his back with the other. They stayed in each others embrace for just a moment, the dragon breaking off as soon as Alan’s breathing slowed.

    “Better?”

    “Y-yeah… Sorry…” Alan apologized, wiping his eyes. He’s so good at calming me down… I hate that I’m acting like this in front of him though…

    “Good to hear, kiddo.” Morgan smiled. “I know a place in the city we can hide at tonight. We’ll figure out the rest there, okay?”

    Morgan petted Alan one last time for good measure and climbed onto the arched catwalk above. Alan scrambled to follow, using the slight shimmer of the moonlit moat below to help him navigate the otherwise pitch-black shadows casted by the bridge above them.

    Alan’s entire body trembled slightly as they moved further up the narrow catwalk. That’s weird… I don’t remember being scared of heights… Alan shuddered. He steeled his nerves, focusing his vision away from the steep heights around him and instead of Morgan’s pink tail, swishing about nonchalantly as they crossed.

    Suddenly, the Jangmo-o froze. He tensed his body, scales raising as he lowered himself so that Alan could see what was in front. A Kirlia, staring despondently at the flickering lights of the city that surrounded the moat, blocked the narrow pathway. She seemed unaware of Alan and Morgan’s presence, kicking her hanging legs around mindlessly.

    “Shit.” Morgan mumbled under his breath, barely loud enough for only Alan to hear. “It’s too dark, I didn’t notice her before we started crossing…”

    “What do we do?” Alan asked.

    “The bridge is only wide enough for one Pokemon at most… No way we’re getting around her.” Morgan replied, frustration growing in his hushed tone.

    “I-I don’t want to fight her though… I don’t want anyone else to get hurt tonight, both them and us.”

    “Me neither, kiddo.” Morgan said. With a troubled and contemplating look in his eyes.

    This was troubling. He remembered the Kirlia. Although she didn’t do anything to him physically she was still present in both of the rituals, meaning she must be somewhat close with Celeste and the rest of the royal cabinet. It’s best if we could just get her to leave somehow… Besides, if she spotted us she would totally–

    “Eep! Y-You!” That didn’t matter now. They were spotted. “I– Your Highness! You can’t–”

    Alan instinctively lowered himself, ready to pounce. His mouth glowed a light blue as an ice shard grew in his mouth. Morgan held him back, signaling him to relax. “Don’t worry kiddo, I got this.”

    He turned back and stared at the Kirlia. Her eyes glowed a deep purple as a tiny misshapen shadow ball formed in her hands. She remained in her stance, too much in fear to attack yet unwilling to back away.

    “Look, missy.” Morgan spoke with a neutral tone, sealing away his contempt he felt for the royals. “Let’s be real here, no one wants to fight.”

    The Jangmo-o sat down, putting his paws up above his head. “So, how about we don’t? You let us go, and we won’t say a thing about you if we get captured later on. Win-win, right?”

    “No… I-I– No!” The Kirlia shook her head profusely, firing the shadow ball in her palms at Morgan. The attack bounced off Morgan harmlessly, earning her a quiet snicker from the dragon.

    “Celeste…” Kirlia continued. “S-She would–”

    “How would she know?” Alan interrupted, peeking his head out from behind Morgan. “She’s frozen under a mountain of ice right now, blabbering nonsense to no one listening.”

    “Your M-Majesty! I–”

    “Lorenzo wouldn’t care, Melissa is still off crying her eyes out somewhere.” Alan listed off as many members of the royal cabinet as he could remember. “Sharron is still half-dead in the infirmary, and your buddy Astar probably went off hiding already. You can make up anything, and you’ll fit right in.”

    “So please, just let us be. You and I don’t say a thing, and no one will know.”

    Kirlia stood in silence for a moment, contemplating. “P-Promise?”

    “Promise.” Alan replied softly.

    She nodded her head, vanishing in a bright flash of purple as she teleported away, clearing the way for the two escapees to cross. Both Pokemon breathed a deep sigh of relief as they wordlessly continued on their path, quietly disappearing into the glistening lights of Krux city.

    Even after escaping the pair kept their pace quick, only occasionally stopping to allow the much younger Vulpix to rest. Morgan led them through the city, adeptly slipping between alleyways and crisscrossing through the tall, well-constructed townhouses and villas.

    The surrounding buildings changed quickly, as Morgan led the pair through narrower and narrower streets. The opulent marble villas soon became brick and stone buildings, while the heavily decorated street lamps were replaced by buildingside torchlight.

    Morgan’s pace gradually quickened as he became more familiar with his surroundings, as the rigid stone buildings soon gave way to an expansive slum. Tiny, densely packed settlements of rusty sheet metal and thick cloth, colors faded by time and weather, lined both sides of the narrow alleyways that snaked around almost at random. No light pierced into the grimy pothole-ridden streets, forcing the Jangmo-o into navigating the chaotic web of pathways with only his memory and intuition.

    “S-slow down!” Alan squeaked between his fatigued panting.

    “Hang on a bit, kiddo!” Morgan replied with an excited pep to his tone. “We’re nearly there!”

    Before long the pair arrived at what Alan could only describe as a ruin. The metal roofing was nearly entirely rusted off, while the walls had collapsed in on itself, leaving sharp bits of stone and metal scattered over the dusty ground.

    “Morgan. A-Are you sure this is the right place?” Alan asked, looking around wearily.

    The Jangmo-o ignored Alan’s questioning, jumping into the middle of a pile of rubble to the side, flipping over metal as he dug around. Before too long, Morgan popped his head back out, pointing towards the newly exposed hole under the rubble.

    “Ya didn’t think I’d make you sleep out here, did you?” Morgan laughed heartily.

    “The building on top is just a front. A disguise, almost.” He explained as he descended into the hole, signaling the Vulpix to follow. “It’s how my family and I kept ourselves safe from thieves and whatever else.”

    Morgan’s tail drooped slightly upon the mention of his family. He sighed, the rest of his body disappearing into the pitch-black dwelling underneath.

    Even with his tiny stature, the hole was still a relatively tight fit for the fox. A piece of sheet metal snagged the end of his robe as he entered, turning it into a makeshift door as it slammed shut behind him, blotting out the rest of the already dim moonlight from illuminating the room. Alan panicked, scrambling around and tripping over what he assumed to be Morgan’s body.

    “Ah, right. I forgot you can’t see in the dark.” Morgan sighed. He rummaged through something in the darkness, before handing it to the Vulpix. Alan tapped the small object with his paws, attempting to identify it exclusively by feel.

    Morgan turned around, carefully placing his tail on Alan’s paws. “It’s a match, and that’s my tail. Ya know how to at least use a match, right?”

    “Y-Yeah, I do.” Alan replied, fumbling around in the darkness as he carefully handled the match.

    “Just strike the stone on my tail, it’s pretty good for that, heh.”

    It took a few attempts, coupled with a few silent curses from the Vulpix, but eventually he was able to light the match. Alan still couldn’t see much, barely enough for him to pass the match on to Morgan. He took care of the rest, throwing the tiny flame into a wood-filled crevice beside him. The makeshift fireplace illuminated the room,and Alan was able to relax as his vision returned.

    The hideout was crude at best, devoid of any furniture save for a massive bed of straw in the middle and a half-shattered mirror to his left. The rough earthen walls and claustrophobically low ceiling were all covered in a layer of dust, the settlement seemingly left untouched for a decently long time. Morgan, however, didn’t seem to mind one bit as he threw himself onto the bed, curling up as his ears flitted in elation.

    “Sorry… It’s a bit dirty, but it should get the job done for the night…” said Morgan. He patted the straw beside him, a plume of dust swirling around with each movement.

    “There’s only one bed. We used to pile up and sleep atop one another to keep ourselves warm in the winter. My family… I mean.” Morgan paused, reminiscing for just a split second. “You don’t mind sleeping on the same bed as me, right?”

    Alan broke out of his frozen stupor. “N-No! Not at all!” he stammered, curling up beside the dragon on the bed. “I-I hope I’m not taking up too much space…”

    “Nawwwh… You’re… good night....” Morgan’s words slurred, eyelids drooping as he let out another yawn. By the time Alan turned to face the dragon he had already drifted off to sleep, leaving the Vulpix alone with his thoughts once more.

    He’s out cold already… Alan thought. Maybe Necrozma knew I would need him to escape, maybe he planned everything from the start…

    “Hey Necrozma. I know you’re listening.” Alan whispered. “We’ve escaped, that’s what you wanted from me, right? I’ll get my memories back like you promised, right?”

    No response. Worth a shot…

    He stared at the half-shattered mirror, his reflection blurry from the accumulated dust. His fur was coated in a thin layer of dirt and grime, browning his fur considerably. A few sticks and clumps of mud stuck out of his fluff like a sore thumb, Alan grunted in annoyance as he worked to pull out as much as he could. Somewhere during his escape he had lost his crown, though he had no intention of returning to the castle to find it anytime soon.

    A wave of fatigue flowed over Alan, his head falling onto the soft straw below. He ignored the grime in his fur as he shifted around and turned to face a fast asleep Morgan, drooling a puddle beneath as he rested.


    “Good night, Morgan.” Alan yawned. “And thank you… for everything…”



    Hmm…

    Necrozma’s presence flooded Alan’s mind before his mind could even adjust to his surroundings. The Vulpix tensed as he felt his own body materialize on his illusory mental throne.

    Before he could settle down he felt a tug, his body grasped by psychic energy as he was lifted off the ground, floating toward the crystalline dragon seated on a similarly shaped throne across the table.

    Necrozma hummed curiously, rotating the Vulpix around with his psychic powers. “Intriguing…

    “A-Ah! W-What are you doing?” Alan cried out, struggling in the air as Necrozma inspected him thoroughly.

    My powers… They are slowly returning…” Necrozma seemed relieved, almost. He floated the Vulpix closer so that they met at eye level. “My strength grows as my influence spreads. It seems your display of my power left a deep impression on those who witnessed it.

    The dragon’s multicolored eyes brightened, the purple glow of his psychic powers trapping Alan dissipating as he released his control over the fox, dropping him onto an outstretched claw.

    I am now able to partially manipulate your mental realm.” Necrozma said, a crown materializing in his other claw. It seemed much more solid than other objects summoned in the past, lacking the illusory glimmer that coated everything else in the fog-filled expanse. He even seemed much stabler himself, his illusory body no longer glitching in and out of existence every few moments. “In our past encounters, only your perception of this realm could affect your surroundings. Now, however, I hold the ability to control parts of it myself.

    “Haven’t you been doing that this whole time?” Alan questioned. “The throne, the table, all those statues… Wasn’t that all you?”

    Through illusions, yes. It was relatively simple tricking your mind into believing it was real, truth be told.” Necrozma admitted. He lowered Alan back onto his throne, placing the newly formed crown atop his head. Alan had entirely forgotten he lost his crown in the first place. “Do not fret, my dear Alan. There is no point in me abusing my newfound strength. However, this revelation displays my lack of knowledge of this realm…

    He paused, digging his claws into the fog to his side.

    ...even after all this time in banishment.” Necrozma added bitterly as he rummaged around in the mist. Eventually, he pulled away from the fog, revealing a single dull rock in his grasp.

    “Banishment?” Alan asked. He knew it was a risky ordeal to continue peppering Necrozma with questions, though this time it felt like he was owed at least some of the basic details.

    Cause and effect. Action and reaction. Mistake and punishment. I was once a part of both realms, the physical and the mental. Now I am part of none, aside from yours.

    Alan’s ears nervously twitched as he eyed Necrozma. He opened his mouth, yet said nothing as he struggled to find a suitable reply.

    My influence, wiped away. My powers, stripped. It was an extreme punishment, yet still a just one.” Necrozma continued. “You will find out more in due time, that is an inevitability. For now, however, the terms of our agreement remain the same. Assist me in my escape, and you shall be rewarded grandly.

    Necrozma tossed the gone pebble in his hands, the stone landing in front of Alan. The Vulpix poked at it curiously, wisps of golden light emanating from tiny symbols imprinted onto the surface of the rock.

    “Ah r-right… Thanks, Necrozma.”

    Your servitude has been… admissible. Your contributions are valued.

    Servitude… Heh. Alan chuckled internally. That’s the closest to a thanks I’m gonna get from him…

    The gone pebble in his paws reacted, blinding Alan as it shattered into dust. The runes once present on the tiny rock were now imprinted onto Alan instead, covering the Vulpix’s snow-white coat in bright, golden runes.

    A rush of wind blew around Alan as his vision returned. Necrozma’s form had disappeared, leaving the fox alone as the mist closed in around him.

    Stay with that Jangmo-o. We will discuss your next assignment at a later date.” Necrozma’s disembodied voice rang out from the void, as his presence melted away completely.

    The gray fog whirled violently around Alan as the throne he sat on folded upon itself, plunging Alan into the familiar yet bleak nothingness below. Alan shut his eyes, the raging storm above quietening down as his senses dulled. He drifted off as his illusory body dissolved into the surrounding void, returning his mind to the peaceful quiet of the abyss once more.

    ARC 1 - INTRODUCTIONS || END
     
    Chapter 12 - Special Episode 1 - Mismatched Memories
  • Turkeyuwu

    Rhythm Gamer
    Location
    Thailand
    Pronouns
    He/Him | They/Them
    Chapter 12 - Special Episode 1 - Mismatched Memories

    > INITIALIZING…

    > …

    > …


    "Hello?"

    > BOOT SEQUENCE COMPLETED

    > …

    > SEARCHING PRESETS…



    "Hello? Hello!? Stupid– Hello?!"


    > 1 USER PRESET FOUND

    > LOADING USER PRESET…

    > …

    > USER PRESET - NECROZMA LOADED

    > CONFIRM USER?



    "Yes! Yes! Just turn on already damn it!"


    > CAMERA FUNCTIONALITY: ONLINE || POWER USAGE: HIGH || STATUS: NORMAL

    > Welcome, Mr. Necrozma



    A massive white dragon loomed from above, hunched over a crystal floating a little bit above the ground. They grimaced, annoyedly turning back and forth between the device and a screen positioned behind them.

    "Okay! I did everything right… No? Why is the damned screen still blank?" Reshiram threw his wings in the air, angrily gesturing towards a giant crystalline dragon seated at the head of a large ovular table beside him. "Ugh! Why'd I even have to do this in the first place? This is your tech Necrozma!"

    The golden dragon replied nonchalantly. "Tap the little button poking out the edge of the crystal three times, that should fix it. Thanks for the help, Reshiram." Necrozma reached over, attempting to caress Reshiram's fluffy locks with his claws.

    "Yeah yeah whatever, old man." Reshiram swatted away the claws, turning back towards the crystalline camera with a grunt. With a bit more fumbling around with the tiny device was required before it whirred to life, floating further off the ground as it began to glow.


    > CONNECTING…

    > …



    "Look, I don't want it to sound like I'm… complaining, I guess, but it's just– What even is the point of any of this?"

    "What do you mean?"

    Reshiram gestured around the room, empty aside from the two legendaries. "All members of the Roundtable are to report for an emergency meeting at once. Thirty minutes, do not be late." he imitated, waving his arms around mockingly. "You do realize we all have things to do as well, right?"

    "And yet you're here. Curious…"

    "It's my day off!" Reshiram defended. "Besides, that's not the point! It doesn't matter how important the announcement is, you're supposed to schedule things! You literally invented that system for us to adhere to."

    The screen flickered, firstly to static then slowly smoothing out into a wide shot of the meeting room.


    > CAM1 STATUS: ONLINE

    > RECORDING…

    > MEMORY: 47% | EST. TIME REMAINING: 2H51M



    "I understand you are frustrated, Reshiram. I understand many in the roundtable have come to dislike my leadership. But this announcement is important, so much so I am willing to bend the– ARGH!"

    Necrozma stopped in his tracks, his claws nearly tearing into his head as an intense searing migraine ripped through his mind. He collapsed, letting out stifled grunts of pain as he tried to hold his composure to the best of his ability. His golden glow dimmed, while the crystal technology floating around the room stalled for a moment, before returning to their usual operation.

    Reshiram was already beside him, gently caressing the struggling dragon's head with his clawed wings. A concerned yet unsurprised grimace plastered itself across his face as he helped Necrozma back into his seat.

    "...Ah."

    A grunt, paired with an understanding sigh of resignation, was all that Reshiram replied with. A few moments of silence passed as Necrozma regained his strength, consuming a few motes of light floating nearby to help ease the pain.

    "As you can see…" Necrozma eventually continued, " This is urgent . My condition is rapidly worsening, I'm already half-blind, and so weak I may as well be bed-bound. I am suffering , Reshiram. This meeting is important as it concerns the fate of my continued leadership and the wellbeing of all mortals under my command."

    "G-got it…" Reshiram sulked, turning away to pick up some items strewn onto the ground by Necrozma's episode.

    A little while passed before the next few legendaries arrived. First to appear were Palkia and Dialga, the space around their respective seats folding in on itself as the two deities materialized in an instant. Their appearance was accompanied by annoyed grumbling as they settled down, yet they seemed to quieten down quickly as they saw Necrozma's condition.

    "Necrozma… are you–"

    "I'm fine ." Necrozma curtly replied, gripping the arms of his chair a little harder as he felt his head begin to violently ache once more. He glanced at Reshiram, who assuredly nodded back as he floated off to welcome the rest of the incoming legendaries.

    Soon only a few seats around the table were empty, as each member of the roundtable arrived and settled down. A tense atmosphere had developed, with every member concernedly eyeing the near-crippled form of their once illustrious leader. Silent whispers and murmurs began to spread across the room as Necrozma waited for the last few stragglers to be seated.

    "It was never this bad… "

    "...is he dying? "

    "What is he planning… "

    Giratina and Yveltal were the last to arrive, the former wrapped snugly around the latter's plume. They quickly separated once Necrozma's irritated glare landed upon the two latecomers.

    "You two are lucky I do not have the strength to reprimand you for your lateness." the golden dragon muttered, his radiance dimming even further than before. "Settle down quickly, this meeting pertains to matters of the highest importance. I do apologize for calling this meeting with such short notice, but as you can see from my… ah… condition , I am unable to wait any longer."

    Necrozma turned to face the camera crystal Reshiram had set up, his frown deepening as he began to recite a short script he had prepared beforehand.

    "Recording Log Number 1506. The meeting is of urgent status. Members present: All members of the Roundtable."

    The rest of the meeting room watched on in silence as Necrozma waved around his sickly hands, commanding a couple of glowing crystals floating around the room to focus their lighting upon himself, almost like a spotlight on himself.

    "With the formalities out the way, I'll get started quickly. Once again, I do apologize for the breach in meeting protocol." He froze for a moment. The pain was rapidly worsening.

    "Over two millennia ago, I agreed to bless humanity. To grant them sentience and intelligence, to promote their kind to the same level as Pokemon, and to allow them to coexist in their own societies. I believed it was a great act of charity, and you all agreed with me on that."

    The room nodded in silent agreement. No one dared to disagree with Necrozma on that.

    "Humanity prospered, their intelligence and cohesion as a species quickly allowed them to overtake us Pokemon as the dominant species of this world. However, their rapid rise to the top came with many many unforeseen consequences. I'm sure you all have seen your own fair share of change, have you not?"

    No one answered. That's fine, the faster he got this done the better. He conjured hundreds of screens, each displaying a unique picture or looping videos of his aforementioned humans. The screens shuffled around, quickly collating themselves into the rough shape of the world's continents.

    "Our sacred lands have been invaded upon, our domains polluted. I gave them free agency, but I never expected them to ignore our authority entirely. Yet we have tolerated this, enabled this for centuries even…"

    "...Necrozma, what are you–"

    "I do not regret giving humanity their sentience, but it's time for this little experiment to end, don't you think?"

    With a snap of his fingers, the screens began to shut off one by one, revealing the widened eyes and shocked reactions of the other gods for Necrozma to see.

    "Do not fret, I am unable to forcefully disconnect my light from all of humanity like that." Necrozma attempted to soothe the others' unnerved glares. "I plan to drive humanity to extinction, it's the only way for me to rid myself of this burden entirely. I ask for your cooperation in this undertaking of mine. It will be quick and painless for them, I promise."

    "No! That's not– That's not what we care about!" Yveltal screamed. "You can't just up and decide to kill off the entire human population like that!"

    "Oh but I can, and I will." Necrozma replied simply. "That decision is not up for discussion. I have already made up my mind on that."

    The room erupted into a melting pot of screaming and curses following Necrozma's response. Necrozma simply tuned them out, patiently waiting for the room to settle back to normalcy by itself.

    A tap on the dragon's shoulder broke him out of his meditative state. Lunala hung from a perch above Necrozma with her wings crossed, her disgruntled glare unnerving him much more than any of the shouting ever could.

    "Necrozma. "

    "Yes, Lunala. I know."

    "Know what? Of all the crimes you are suggesting we commit for your sake?"

    "We're gods! We are above our laws!" Necrozma raised his voice to account for the wild shouting match going on around him. "We are under no one's authority, and I simply want to do what's best both for me and the world!"

    "And the decision you landed upon was genocide?!"

    "...it's the best I could do." Necrozma gritted his teeth, head hung slightly in his reply.

    "I won't accept it. All the blood and suffering on our hands… I-I can't."

    "What about my suffering?!" Necrozma lashed out, his golden claws swiping at the air in front of Lunala. "You all seem to care oh so much about their pain and their lives and so on. But what about me? I'm suffering here too! I gave them life and now it's a crime for me to take it back because it's too much for me?"

    Necrozma turned to the crowd of arguing legendaries below, lobbing a sphere of golden energy into the air above. The attack imploded in a spectacular shine of brilliance, silencing everyone as the explosion rocked their surroundings.

    "Finally, some silence."

    Necrozma sighed. He had expected some disagreement, but not to this degree of extreme pushback he presently faced.

    "I understand many of you are upset with such a change, but will you please hear me out… just for a moment?"

    A few members nodded, while most of the rest bitterly shook their heads in disgust. None, however, decided to interrupt the dragon.

    "You have all noticed by now, but my power is waning. Fate has decided that I shall head in the same direction as Lord Arceus did." He shook his head, frowning. "Let it be reminded, that I hold sole authority over every single mortal mind and that none of you possess the capability to take over my role any longer."

    "So?" Palkia rose out from the crowd, fists raised with sheer rage. "What does any of that have to do with killing all of humanity?"

    "Let it also be reminded, that in the very possible case I collapse early, the minds of every single sentient being in the world will go down with me." Necrozma continued, ignoring the interruption entirely. "Just like that, poof. Gone. Your followers you all worked oh so hard to maintain? Back to ferals. All of them."

    Most of the legends backed down, returning to their seats in deep contemplation. A few remained stalwart, however, not entirely convinced by Necrozma's explanation.

    "So what? We're supposed to help you murder millions upon millions of innocent souls… just because you think you're gonna die soon?" Lugia spat bitterly. Their fists were clenched, threatening to pounce onto the dragon at any moment. "You put this responsibility upon yourself, Necrozma! I won't let you simply throw it to the side like that!"

    "I am NOT!" Necrozma slammed the table, the space around the point of impact warping under the extreme force produced.


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    "This problem I myself have caused, and as such I have provided a solution for you all!" he snapped. "Pokemon minds I can slowly wean off my influence, human minds I cannot. This is the most ethical solution I can think of. If you do not want blood on your hands, fine , but do not get in my way. I will end humanity one way or another."

    "Oh no, you don't!"

    A sphere of psychic energy barreled down the length of the table, smashing into a hastily formed protect shield around Necrozma. The impact shook the room as tiny shards of the now shattered shield ripped across the room like shrapnel, carving deep cuts and holes into the table before dissipating into nothingness.


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    Necrozma raised his arms, a blinding flash of green illuminated his surroundings as a shockwave ripped through the legendaries, ejecting all but the most powerful of the roundtable out of his realm. Those that remained staggered away, blinded by the dragon's intensifying radiance.

    "Traitors! All of you! This meeting is adjourned! Humanity will die by my hands, whether you like it o–"


    > …

    > CONNECTION LOST

    > …

    > END OF MEMORY REPLAY




    "...was that really what you showed him?"

    "Yes. Accidentally. I shall deal with the repercussions at a later time."

    As the light of the monitor dimmed the rest of their surroundings came into focus. A room, decor identical to the one in the memory, missing only the flames and destruction Necrozma had laid upon the room in the memory.

    At the center of the fog-covered realm were the two inhabitants of Alan's mental realm, both staring blankly into the dark screen in front of them. The Serperior was bound in thick illusory chains, pinning him to the ground as he struggled against his restraints. Necrozma sighed as he lowered himself atop the snake, assisting the chains in keeping Edward under his control.

    "Ngrk!" Edward grunted. "N-Necrozma! I wasn't going to–"

    "Silence, Vessel."

    Edward sighed in resignation, giving up any attempt at escaping his binds. He simply glared at the dragon, hissing in pain under the crushing weight of his captor.

    "Why so many chains, Necrozma? Have I not made it clear that I lack neither the capability nor the want to wrest control back from you?" The Serperior growled, a twinge of regret leaking into his tone. "I have already accepted my fate as punishment, there is no need for such extreme measures. Please, the chains they– oh whatever…"

    "As my champion grows in strength, so does his host. These binds are simply protective measures, your suffering or self-atonement means nothing to me."

    "Champion, huh…" Edward sneered at Necrozma's choice of words. "Do you think Alan would still trust you at all after you showed him a memory of you planning to destroy humanity?"

    "The memory was cut off."

    "Much too late, if anything. He can infer what happens next." Edward replied. The chains tightened slightly, digging a little deeper into his illusory skin. "Ack–! So much for not caring about my suffering…"

    "Then I shall deal with him later."

    A tense period of silence followed. Edward could easily melt back into Alan's subconscious, if Necrozma allowed him to. Yet he remained trapped in this fog-covered realm as if Necrozma wanted to toy with him just a little longer. He grumbled in annoyance, trying to distract himself from the pain of being crushed.

    "So… I take that your uh… purge … was successful?" Edward asked.

    "Yes."

    "And the other legends… did they hinder you?"

    "Consider why they are but myths in your age."

    "R-right…" Another tense silence. "But then… what about your banishment? If they were no issue for you, how did–"

    "I simply let them. Banishment is far better than the fates that befell the others."

    Edward shuddered. He was beginning to doubt the mythos surrounding the Legendaries he was familiar with. There was no roundtable, no Necrozma, no sentient humans either. Just what exactly did Necrozma do to cause such an extreme erasure of the past? Edward questioned internally.

    The Serperior felt the crushing weight atop his body take off as Necrozma wordlessly floated into the air. Before his captor's crystalline form could fully fade into the gray fog, however, Edward decided to push his luck one last time.

    "I feel you, Necrozma. Stuck in limbo, unable to control your fate for thousands of years."

    "..."

    "You and I aren't too different, after all. I don't know your past, but I respect your willingness to do whatever it takes to try to take your fate back into your own hands. Takes a lot of bravery, much more than I ever had. I respect that."

    Necrozma turned around, the fog obscuring his entire form aside from the light shining from his multicolored pupils.

    "Silence, Vessel. We are nothing alike. I do not want your empathy."

    The mass of crystals snapped his claws as he turned back away, his body fully blending into the surrounding fog. Edward felt his binds loosen, the chains slipping off his body and dragging themselves back into the mist behind him. The Serperior, now free, began to melt back into Alan's subconscious as well, allowing the fog to flood into his surroundings as his senses returned to the Vulpix's.

    "Whatever you say…"
     
    Chapter 13 - Ramshackled Respite
  • Turkeyuwu

    Rhythm Gamer
    Location
    Thailand
    Pronouns
    He/Him | They/Them
    Chapter 13 - Ramshackled Respite

    No matter how bright the rays of any sun king.

    No. Man. Rules. Alone.

    A king can't build roads alone, can't enforce laws alone, can't defend the nation, or himself, alone.

    The power of a king is not to act, but to get others to act on his behalf, using the treasure in his vaults.

    A king needs an army, and someone to run it.

    Treasure, and someone to collect it.

    Law, and someone to enforce it.

    The individuals needed to make the necessary things happen are the king's keys to power.

    All the changes you wish to make are but thoughts in your head if the keys will not follow your commands.

    - The Rules for Rulers | CGP Grey


    ARC 2 - GUILD || START
    Necrozma…You.. Those aren't my memories… What did you…

    Alan's mind was a whirlwind of different emotions. He didn't know how to properly describe how he should be feeling. Resentment? Maybe. A sense of betrayal? Definitely.

    Necrozma… I don't know if you're able to listen in on my thoughts or not, but I presume you can. You have a LOT to explain to me when we meet again, alright?

    "Oi, sleepyhead. Wake yer fluffy ass up. We gotta get going soon."

    He felt a firm nudge on his hind leg, jostling him awake from his slumber. In the pitch-black surroundings, Alan could barely make out the blurry silhouette of a Pokemon standing beside him.

    "Urgh… W-What… Can't see…" Alan pawed at the space in front of him as he fumbled around in the darkness. "M-Morgan…! I–"

    The Jangmo-o chuckled. "Heh, took ya long enough kiddo. We're not out the clear yet, still gotta escape the city 'n all that. Grab this, I'll lead ya outside."

    Morgan swung his tail in an exaggerated motion, grabbing the Vulpix's attention. Alan barely recognized the shape of the appendage dangling in front of him. The moment he pawed the Jangmo-o's tail, however, the room lit up in a brilliant flash of light as a familiar spike of pain shot up his body. Alan screamed, writhing in agony as Morgan could only watch on with a concerned stare.

    "K-kiddo! Your tail!" Morgan pointed at the Vulpix, readying his other claw in anticipation. "Stay still! I'll cut it off!"

    "N-No!" Alan choked through the searing pain. His two tails halved, the inner half of each ripping apart before merging with the other, the brilliant light now entirely localized upon the newly formed body part. As the light dimmed and the pain dispersed, Alan moved towards the hatch, using the last bits of light dissipating from his tail to help him find his way out.

    A wave of cool yet stale air met the Vulpix's face as he emerged from the hideout. The sun had just barely risen, the smallest sliver of light poking through the top of the buildings surrounding the clearing the hideout was carved under. Morgan emerged from the hole a little while after, smacking the metal sheet acting as a trapdoor shut before piling on a small mountain of nearby rubble and trash.

    "That should do it…" the Jangmo-o mumbled to himself, dusting off his body as he turned towards Alan. "Oh look at you, kiddo! Dressed all prim 'n proper like that. Ya even got yer crown back!"

    "I-I did?" Alan swatted at his head. He felt the sharp spikes of the crown poke into his paws a little as he pushed on it, yet it would not budge. He shook his head violently in an attempt to remove the crown, though it still refused to fall off.

    "Ugh! I can't get it off! It's like it's fused to my head!"

    "Calm down, it looks pretty nice on ya!" Morgan chuckled. "As long as it doesn't hurt, you shouldn't worry about it. We can look for someone to pull it off after we get outta here."

    "But what if someone notices?! What if they notice!" the Vulpix stressed, still stubbornly clawing at the piece of jewelry glued to his head.

    "Not if we're sneaky enough. Besides, you're traveling alongside a pink Jangmo-o. If anything I'm the more recognizable one here."

    Morgan tousled the Vulpix's head tufts, scrambling the gold-tinted hair Alan had parted away from his eyes back into their natural positions. He snickered as Alan pulled away, clumsily combing hair back off his eyes.

    "Alright! Alright! I'll deal with the crown later!"

    "Good, 'cause we're setting off soon. Shouldn't be many guards at first light." The dragon dug into a pile of rubble, parting them away to reveal a couple markings scratched into the brick underneath. Noticing Alan's curious stares, the Jangmo-o added on. "They're directions. Each arrow points to a different destination. The longer the arrow the further away it is. My family used it to get around the city when we first got here."

    He pointed at the shortest arrow. It pointed at a crudely drawn rectangle, a vaguely circular hole carved in the middle of the archaic drawing.

    "Ugly, I know." Morgan sighed. "Drew 'em all myself. Never learned how to read, so had to make do with these instead…"

    "I-I think they're fine… As long as you understand it, right?" Alan consoled, still parting the last bits of hair out of his eyes. "I'm assuming the… whatever that is… is where we're headed next?"

    Morgan nodded. "Those are the city walls. The exits are probably all on high alert, but if we're lucky enough then that hole in the wall wouldn't have been patched up yet. Heck, it's how we snuck into Krux in the first place..."

    He paused, muttering a few despondent curses under his breath. He shook his head, switching to a more positive demeanor as he strutted up to Alan. The Vulpix gave a quizzical look, before sighing and returning a less-than-confident nod of his own.

    "A-alright…" Alan's eyes darted around, nerves having already returned upon the realization of their situation.

    He's so… trusting… I've barely told him about anything… Can I even tell him anythi–

    A deep rumble in his stomach interrupted his train of thought. Alan's cheeks turned a cherry pink, turning away from Morgan as he stammered in embarrassment. "S-sorry… C-can we get some f-food before we go?"

    "Hungry already? That's right… How could I forget…" Morgan lamented to himself. He looked around, sighing in defeat as he explained to Alan. "Unless ya got any more of them berries hiding in there somewhere, we don't got much…"
    "How little…?" Alan asked, rummaging through the pockets lining his robe in hopes of something edible. No luck. He only managed to pull out a small assortment of coins he had stuffed into his robe alongside the berries during last night's frenzy. Morgan sighed, giving an expected shake of his head in response.

    "Well…" the Jangmo-o pointed at a nearby pile of trash, bits of rotten bread and berries populating the edges of the pile like toppings on a cake. "Yer could try to dumpster dive, or we could forage outside the city walls if you can hang on long 'nuff. I would consider stealing, but we need to keep ourselves on the lowdown for the time being. Besides, last time I stole I… ah… burned down the entire market I stole from…"

    "You what?!"

    "Hey! It was out of necessity! And I do regret it now, I promise."

    "I– That's… Reassuring, I guess…"

    Alan shifted, standing up to pat himself down. He turned away from the trash pile, pointing in the direction of their destination. "I'll hang on for now. Besides, I-I think I would almost certainly die if I tried eating that. Just a hunch…"

    "Yeah yeah, figured."

    With no further issues, the pair took off into the darkened alleyways, leaving nothing but a few unturned metal sheets and a newly uncovered hideout as the only trace of their presence.



    The two ran without pause for as long as Alan could manage, stopping to allow the Vulpix to rest while the Jangmo-o scurried off, ravaging a few more piles of trash along the way toward their destination. They kept away from the main streets, opting to navigate down the multitude of narrow, unkept alleyways running parallel to the more traveled roadways. Without much trouble, they soon arrived at the towering brick walls lining the city.

    "We're… here?" Alan asked. His eyes wandered upwards, trying to find the top edge of the wall in front of him. Alan craned his neck, the top barely coming into view before he lost his balance, sending him tumbling backward into a nearby wall.

    "Pretty big, eh?" Morgan remarked. His tone was tense, spiteful, even. "Though, what good would a wall like this do when ya can dig right under it? What a joke this kingdom is…"

    Kicking at a slightly miscolored section of wall, the brick collapsed inwards to reveal an intricately preserved passageway. Morgan snorted, shaking his head disapprovingly as he motioned for Alan to follow him.

    "Fifty feet of mortar and stone, millions of gold, and probably many hundreds of moons spent on this wall. Yet it's left to rot, to be bypassed, ignored and forgotten by those too blinded by their own greed. It's really the epitome of what's wrong with this kingdom, don't ya think?"

    "I-I…" Alan stumbled. How am I supposed to even respond to that? Does he even know about Edward's fate? What can I even tell him?

    "The entire cabinet! All everlasting, all oh so mighty yet all so useless. That crown! On yer head! It's just another reminder of how utterly ruined my life has become. All because of them!"

    "M-Morgan…" Alan pushed himself away. His vision blurred with tears, though they were not his own.

    Edward… Was he listening in? Is he crying… through me…?

    He sniffled, bringing the Jangmo-o's impassioned rant to a halt. Alan attempted to explain himself, yet his throat simply closed up as he choked on Edward's tears.
    "No, not like that!" Morgan backpedaled, noticing the Vulpix's distressed stuttering. He sidled beside Alan, the cramped passageway doing well to soothe both Pokemon's nerves. As he pet the Vulpix, he continued on.

    "I'm just annoyed, at the kingdom and at the previous king. Yer different, you can't be him. You were even willing to break us both out! You… whatever yer are… ain't the one to blame for all this, aight?"

    "N-No… It's not…" Alan rubbed the tears away. His mind was torn, unsure what he could tell the Jangmo-o. He shook his head, wiping away the last of Edward's sudden outburst.

    Would he hate me… If I told him about Edward? Would he even listen? I don't even know where to start… Alan steeled himself, pushing his doubts away. No… Surely he trusts me enough. I can tell him everything… right?

    Alan sighed, shifting himself back into a standing position. He turned towards Morgan, both of them exchanging apologetic glances at one another.

    "Sorry… I don't know what came over me. L-let's keep going for now, I'll explain everything once we're on the other side of the wall."

    Morgan let out a satisfied chirp, bouncing back into his stride without much hesitation.

    "Take it at yer own pace, kiddo. You've got a lot to talk about, but don't stress yerself with it. Tell me whenever, I'm listenin'."

    The tunnel seemed to stretch on much longer than just the width of the wall. It made sense, as whoever was responsible for the tunnel had to start digging from a considerable distance away, lest they be spotted by the guards dotted around the cities' perimeter. It was much more preferable anyway, the secluded nature of the exit should allow them to slip away into the countryside without being noticed as fast– or at all, hopefully.

    With a bit of shuffling around, Morgan took the lead once more as the light shining from the tunnel entrance began to dissipate. He led the two of them through the now pitch-black underpass, occasionally lifting his head up to sniff for something. Though Alan could no longer see he still managed to keep up, relying on the rhythmic thumping of the Jangmo-o's tail in front of him to navigate through the darkness with relative ease.

    Morgan suddenly paused, as an unaware Alan bumped into his behind. The Jangmo-o held out a claw, pre-emptively shushing the Vulpix behind him. He punched the dirt above him a few times, nodding a confirmation to himself as a hollow echo rang back.

    "We're here."

    "We're… where?" Alan replied, still entirely blind and cluelessly scrounging around behind the Jangmo-o,

    "Outside the city. The exit is hidden right above us. Any further and we risk falling into the mystery dungeon connecting to this tunnel. Crazy huh, an untamed dungeon this close to the city? Most city folk would revolt if they found out something like that exists so close to their homes…"

    "R-right…" Alan answered absentmindedly. He was itching to finally leave these dusty tunnels, Alan barely focusing on what Morgan was saying. "Let's get outta here… My hair is already so tangled up and disgusting…"

    Morgan giggled, an appreciative smile creeping up his face. "Well it's gonna be a hell of a lot dustier in a sec! Look away, kiddo!" He turned, kicking his hind legs into the patch of dirt he marked. The soil crumbled with little effort, bellowing through the tunnels as it collapsed upon the two of them.

    "Look wher– argh!" The Vulpix stumbled around, as dirt and rock rained down around him. He withdrew himself into his robe, but not before he felt multiple jagged shards of rock lodge themselves into his hair and fur. "Gah! It's everywhere! This is gonna take forever to pull out!"

    "Calm yerself, kiddo! We'll get ya cleaned up in a sec!"

    He felt a hard tug on his robe, his entire body following as he was dragged upwards through the newly formed hole Morgan had kicked down. The sudden glaring sunlight blinded Alan as the rapid yanking disoriented him. He was left splayed out on the ground, panting heavily as he struggled to sit back up.

    "Oughhhh… my head… It's so… bright…?" Alan shot up, his eyes squinting as they adjusted to his surroundings. "We're… out? We did it? We're free!"

    "Heh, yeah…" Morgan affirmed. By his feet were a pile of berries, freshly picked and bursting with juices. He smiled, rolling a couple of the larger berries toward the Vulpix. "Yer mentioned bein' hungry. Grabbed a couple nearby while ya were out."

    Alan nodded, taking a few cautionary sniffs of a pink crescent-shaped berry sitting in front of him. He nibbled the tip of the berry, before devouring the rest of it in a crazed frenzy as hunger overtook his sense of fear. He moved on, rapidly inhaling the rest of the berries in the pile Morgan had foraged for him. Alan, now satiated, gave a happy chirp towards Morgan, his face still covered in a mix of the different berries' juices.

    "Oran, Sitrus, Mago… couple other ones. Yer in luck, seems like we popped up near a patch of sweet berries. Real fresh too, nicer than anything you could find back in the city..."

    "Thanks…"

    Alan gave the Jangmo-o a quick nod of appreciation. He spun around, quickly surveying his surroundings. A sparsely populated forest stretched out on his left, berry bushes popping up in small clearings or in spots where the canopy was thin enough to allow sunlight to break through. To his right was a little more forest, before giving way for a paved road in the distance. He could barely make out a few moving figures– most likely guards or merchants– slowly meandering their way down the pathway. In either case, it was best to keep off the road for the moment, being spotted so close to the city wouldn't be the best for either of the two. He shook his head, pushing away the sense of dread that bubbled from within his mind.

    "Feelin' better? You ate them berries faster than a starving feral!" Morgan chuckled. He plucked a few more Mago berries from a nearby bush, stuffing as much as he could into his mouth and the rest into Alan's robe. "Save some for the road, yer gunna need it."

    "O-Okay, but… What now? Where could we even go?" Alan asked. He snuck in a few more nibbles of Sitrus as he sorted the rest of the hastily stuffed berries into a neater configuration.

    "We're headed the same way as that road." Morgan waved his paws in the general direction of the road. "Couple hours' walk down that way, to my hometown."

    "Hometown? I thought you said you lived in the city?"

    "We come and go. Never really had a full-fledged house in the city, jus' bounced from shithole to shithole. My one true home is back in Ashton, hopin' the family is there as well. It's where we agreed to go if one of us got separated… or died… heh…"

    Morgan sighed, mumbling something to himself, too quietly for Alan to hear. He slapped his cheeks, wiping away the solemn look on his face in favor of a determined grin.

    "No time to worry 'bout that now! Let's go, kiddo! We've got a whole day of walkin' ahead of us, and yer still gotta tell me whatever ya need to!"

    "A-Alright…"



    Alan struggled to muster enough courage to speak, instead electing to remain silent as the two trekked through the forest. Morgan didn't mind, thankfully, he wasn't in any rush to hear what the Vulpix had to say anyway.

    After a while, the forest slowly thinned out, transitioning into vast sprawling plains as the pair finally decided to merge back into the main road. The dense grassy brush entangled them as Morgan struggled to cut through them.

    The grass stained Alan's fur, swathes of ugly green mixing into the already browned fur. Little clippings of grass sprinkled themselves atop his hair, covering what little remained of his pristine white fur.

    "Ugh… This sucks…" Alan bemoaned as they broke through the wall of grass and onto the dirt road. The Vulpix scratched at his body and hair, trying desperately to scrape off as much dirt and grass as possible. "Argh! I can't anymore! My body's all grimy and sticky and itchy, man! My hair's all knotted up and everything too…"

    "Quit yer whinin', we'll get ya cleaned up soon." Morgan answered, clawing off the last bits of grass tangled on his tail.

    "Am I supposed to lick this shit off or something? That's disgusting as hell…" Alan grumbled. He grabbed a couple berries, nudging them towards Morgan. The rest of the berries remained inside his robe as he unclipped it off his body, a plume of dust and rock billowing from the dirtied piece of cloth as it hit the ground.

    "I think I hear a river up ahead, and I'm gonna go jump in it. I'll be back!"

    "Mmph! Wait! Phere couf bfe–" Morgan stammered through a mouthful of food. It didn't matter, however, Alan already having disappeared through a hole in the grassy walls. A loud splash sent him hurriedly scampering after the Vulpix.

    "Alan! Where'd ya go?!"

    It didn't take long for Morgan to locate his partner, sitting by the shallow edge of the river. Alan was drenched from head to toe, the tuft on his head flattening into a wet slab of hair covering his eyes. He tensed up, the shock of the ice-cold river water flowing around him finally registering.

    "Argh! C-Cold…"

    "Really… a Snow Vulpix… cold?"

    "H-Hey! I-I'm not supposed t-to be a V-Vulpix!" Alan sputtered, shivering heavily. "C-Come down and f-feel it for y-yourself, then!"

    "Not supposed to be a 'pix, eh? Go on~"

    "G-Guh! I-I mean–"

    "No, no. Take yer time~" Morgan soothed. He dove into the river himself, sending a decently sized splash in Alan's direction. "Mmm! It's rare to get water this clean in the city. Feels nice to clean off these scales for once~"

    "Y-yeah…"

    Alan looked down, inspecting his freshly cleaned paws underneath the flowing river. The water was mostly clear, only slightly stained by the grime from their bodies. A small bubble of guilt floated from deep within him, causing him to cringe as he once again weighed his options.

    What's wrong with me? I haven't told him anything at all so far! Alan screamed internally. Is it even worth telling him? How much would he even understand?

    "Only one way to find out…" he whispered to himself. Sighing, he scooted over towards Morgan, busy chipping away at the layers of grime covering his scaly body. He tapped the Jangmo-o's shoulder lightly, a silent nod clearly communicating his intention with Morgan.

    "Morgan… Before I tell you, can you promise me something?"

    "Hm?"

    "That you won't be angry with whatever I have to say… o-or leave me… or even just not attacking me…"

    "Huh?" Morgan stared inquisitively. "Kiddo… you know I would never do that… I promise."

    "A-Alright…" Alan straightened himself, parting the hair off his eyes. "I've hid this from you for long enough…"

    "..."

    "Edward… I-I am… Edward. Almost…"

    Alan kept his head low, only stealing a tiny glance at Morgan. The Jangmo-o sat still, claws dug deep into the river mud, processing the Vulpix's words.

    "I promised… I promised… deep breaths… I-I promised…"

    "M-Morgan…?"

    "*How could you!? Why would you!?" Morgan raised a claw, barely catching himself in time before he struck at Alan. He turned away from the Vulpix instead, cursing heavily. "Every part of my life– of our lives– you've ruined it all! Why would you even save me then? If you've destroyed my life this much, why not just end me here…"

    "N-No! It's more than tha–"

    "It's not! You're here to mock me at my lowest point." Morgan turned his back on Alan, making his way back towards the riverbank. "It's not gonna work. No more distractions, I have my family to find…"

    Before Alan could reply his body moved instinctively. He shot a carefully placed powder snow, freezing the water surrounding Morgan, stopping him dead in his tracks. Morgan growled, attempting to slice off the ice with his tail.

    "Gah! Ya little… why?!"

    "Because I want you to listen!" Alan barked, dashing towards the Jangmo-o. They were both on the verge of tears, exchanging desperate glares at one another. "I'm still me as well, Morgan! I-It's complicated…"

    "Complicated my ass…"

    Alan ignored his jab. "I– We… No, I have his soul, but I'm still in control, I think… It's all still so murky to me, Necrozma barely explained anything so far…"

    Morgan's disgusted stare disheartened the Vulpix a little. He knew Morgan was still curious, however. His legs were now unfrozen, yet he remained standing still.

    "I-It was sabotage. By Necrozma. Edward's reincarnation failed, because of him. He fused our souls together, or something like that. I've mentioned this before, I-I'm sure…"

    "Like I would remember!" Morgan snapped, tears streaking down his face. "Back in the prison I didn't have the time to remember! Every day was just me hoping it would be my last!"

    He collapsed, turning himself so that only his head was above the water. "You were just another innocent kid to me… Another one of the endless slew of cruel jokes they threw at me… Messing with my head. Toying with me… Y-you were just another one of their tricks… I didn't take you seriously for a moment… Forgot about you… Until you saved me… Why?"

    "...what?"

    "Why tell me any of this! You could've just… not! I wouldn't have known… I didn't need to know… B-But now! You–"

    "You would've found out eventually." Alan interrupted. He pulled Morgan out of the water, sitting him down directly opposite him. "I want to spill everything now, so that it wouldn't come back to bite me later. So please, let me finish. If you still want to go, then I won't stop you."

    Morgan sighed and gave a dejected nod.

    Alan returned an appreciative smile, before continuing. "I'm Alan, a human turned… this. My memories were stolen by Necrozma, and now I am working under him to get them back. When he took me from my old life he fused Edward's soul into mine, turning us into one being. I'm still in control, but now I carry the weight of his past mistakes. I want to help fix things, as much as I want to help you get back with your family. So please… take me– take us– as your partner."

    Morgan's face contorted into a mixture of disgust and curiosity as he hesitated to reply. He wanted to decline so badly, to rid himself of the pest that was Edward's looming presence. However, he couldn't help but consider the other possibility as well.

    Maybe Alan truly was in control, and he would simply be abandoning the one who had saved him. Morgan couldn't do that, he would never forgive himself if that was the case. Yet there was an equally high possibility that it could be another lie crafted by King Edward, an attempt to get closer to him, to ruin what little was left in his life.

    "I…" Morgan grit his teeth, before a warm smile of acceptance slid across his face. "Fine. I trust ya. Just, next time… please word that a bit better…"

    Alan's cheeks flushed a bright red, turning away to hide the tears of both relief and embarrassment as he sputtered out a reply.

    "T-Thanks… f-for hearing me out."

    He skittered away, back into a deeper part of the river as he hastily washed the rest of the dirt and grime off his fur.

    Alan emerged from the river absolutely drenched, water dripping from every bit of his newly cleaned, pristine white fur. With a small skip in his step, he happily trotted towards a napping Morgan, now fully dried out during his time spent waiting for the Vulpix to finish bathing.

    "Alright~" Alan's cheery voice rustled Morgan back into the waking world. "Our destination is just straight down this road, right?"

    "Basically, we just gotta– wait… yer still soakin' wet! Ain't ya gonna dry off first?"

    Alan shrugged. "I'll dry off as we walk, don't wanna be wasting any more daylight while we still have it. Besides, the chill from the wind is pretty nice~"

    "Then… What about yer robe? Don't wanna get it wet as well, do ya?"

    "Hehe!" Alan giggled, pulling his robe off the ground and slipping it onto Morgan. His aim was a little off, accidentally covering the Jangmo-o's head as he shuffled the piece of cloth around clumsily. After a few moments of struggling, he eventually managed to correctly slip his robe around Morgan, letting go as the dragon stumbled away in surprise.

    "A-Alan!"

    "Hey… it looks good on you~"

    Morgan pulled up a claw, trying to hide his now very obviously flushed cheeks. His horrified glare quickly melted away into laughter, the both of them breaking down into a giggling fit.

    "Looks great, don't it? Never worn somethin' like this before." Morgan said as he inspected himself. "Y'know what? I might just keep it for good~"

    "H-Hey!"

    "I'm just messin' with ya, kiddo. Yer can have it back once ya fur ain't dripping water everywhere."

    Alan let out a relieved sigh. All the tension and anger from their argument had dissipated, allowing them both to relax as they set off once more. The Vulpix was in high spirits as he broke ahead in a jog, letting his fur dry against the rushing wind. Morgan simply smiled, playfully chasing afterward as they continued toward Ashton.



    "Hrm… It's… quaint. I guess…"

    They had taken much longer than expected to arrive, the sun almost reaching the line of mismatched bungalow houses demarcating the horizon. The two of them stood right outside the town's open gates, eyes peeled as they watched on for any signs of danger coming from within the village itself.

    Ashton was much less busy than Alan had expected, only a couple Pokemon strolled about as they rushed home before nightfall. A few lamp lighters walked along the streets, most holding torches high above themselves as the flames brushed past the bottom of the lanterns, setting the fuel within them alight.

    One of the lamp lighters, a Monferno, spotted the duo, quickening his pace as he beelined towards them. Alan was inclined to run, or at the very least, to step back into the bushes for a while. In fact, he had already begun to shuffle away, though a firm tug from Morgan kept him standing where he was.

    "M-Morgan!" Alan said in a panicked whisper. "What are you doing! W-We gotta– We can't!"

    Morgan remained silent, strengthening his grip on the fleeing Vulpix while staring at the Monferno, now running on all fours toward them. Alan closed his eyes, fully expecting to be showered in fire or attacked in some other way as he braced himself. He offered a silent prayer to Necrozma, for anything to keep himself safe.

    "Hey! Lil guy! You're back!"

    What?

    Alan looked up to see Morgan in the air, joyfully wiggling around in the Monferno's grasp. He let the primate inspect him for a little longer, before motioning to be put down. Alan curiously stared at the two of them, backing away a bit further as the Monferno approached to pick him up as well.

    "A-Ah! Morgan!"

    "Relax, kiddo. He's safe." Morgan turned towards the Monferno. "He's a bit skittish, careful around 'im"

    Monferno backed away, smile still plastered across his face. Alan relaxed a little, sitting back down before giving an apologetic nod to the orange primate.

    "S-Sorry…"

    "Bah, don't worry 'bout it." Monferno casually waved him off. He turned around and picked Morgan back up, this time letting the Jangmo-o climb atop his shoulder. "So, pinky! Whose the lil' prince you got with ya? And why are you back anyways?"

    "That's Alan. He's uh…" Morgan hesitated. "Hard to explain. Let's just simply say he saved me."

    Alan looked away, a mix of embarrassment and guilt leaking into his expression. "Well… not saved, exactly. B-But yeah… H-Hi."

    The Monferno shrugged, continuing on. "But why back here? With how you and your family left I thought you'd never return!"

    "Well…" The dragon's expression darkened. "We thought our lives would turn for the better if we left to Krux for good… We thought the people would be nicer… We thought we would fit in better…"

    Both Alan and Monferno were silent, respectfully listening as Morgan lamented over his time in the city once more. The Vulpix felt another pang of guilt stab into his sides, Edward's emotions and influence once again creeping into his own side of the mind.

    "S-Sorry. Feelin' sorta bitter recently. Anyways… I got arrested. Murder. It was in self-defense, but it was still murder."

    "You what?!"

    "It's… it's whatever. I won't hurt ya, 'M."

    "No, no! I know you wouldn't! I meant your family! They're…"

    Morgan shook his head. "Separated from me. Missing, but not imprisoned… probably…" He sighed, staring down the streets of Ashton as the sun fully dipped below the horizon.

    "So! U-Uh… You two know each other?" Alan spoke up, not wanting the conversation to fizzle out.

    "He's known around my folk." Monferno nodded at his fellow lighters. "We're not… too respected, I guess. Neither is he, bein' the color he is. Outcasts, the lot of us, so we got along pretty well."

    "Dad was a lighter for a good while as well." Morgan chimed in. "He did many odd jobs around the town, anything to put food on the table really."

    "Heh, and you said you would evolve so you could join us!"

    "Dad put a stop to that reeeeeal quick." Morgan said, showing the Everstone embedded into his tail. He sighed, shrugging as he continued. "Right, yer probably figured it already, but I've got an actual name now."

    "Yeah, by the little prince over there, eh?"

    Alan cringed a little, reminded of the events of the past few days. "W-Well… it was more of a convenience thing, really. I couldn't pronounce his uh… previous name. So I gave him another one. H-Hope you don't mind that, Morgan…"

    "Don't mind it? It's perfect!" Morgan chirped, hopping off the Monferno's shoulder to ruff up Alan's hair. "Us lowlifes can't be officially named like that unless it's given by someone of higher status. Dumb rule, I know."

    "I mean…" The Monferno interrupted. "We could… but no one would recognize it. Like your previous one. Or mine."

    "Or your– Oh! Ya got named as well?" Morgan's eyes widened in realization.

    "Yeah. Guild branch leader did. Named all of us lighters, actually. I go by Ignus now."

    Both the Vulpix and Jangmo-o exchanged ooohs, both giving a congratulatory nod to the primate. They continued on for a little while longer, Morgan and Ignus catching each other up while Alan mainly sat by the wayside, listening along to the conversation and interjecting whenever he was prompted to.

    The last of the sun's rays had fully dispersed, leaving only the flickering flame from Ignus's tail as their only nearby source of light.

    "So, you two stayin' round these parts?"

    "Dunno." Morgan shrugged. "My house still standing?"

    "Barely, but yeah it is. Gonna need some serious fixing if you wanna live there again. Last I heard a couple of hunters broke in and messed things up real bad…"

    "...Hunters? But why?"

    Ignus's eyes narrowed, lowering his voice to a cautious whisper. "You know why."

    "No…"

    Morgan let out a frustrated growl, before sprinting off without another word.

    "Morgan! Where are you–" Alan tried calling the Jangmo-o back, yet his cries were left unanswered. Instead, he turned and glared at Ignus, readying an ice shard in his mouth.

    "You! What the hell did you tell him?!"

    "I didn't tell him anything! I don't know what he's been through, go after him and ask him yourself!" The Monferno put up his hands dismissively, before crouching down for a whisper.

    "Look kid, just a warning. I don't know why or how you got 'im to trust you, but I have my eyes on you. If my suspicions are right, and you are who I think you are…" The Monferno's tail crackled, bursting into a fiery blue blaze. "I'd keep that crown hidden if I were you, kiddo…"

    Alan recoiled, tails flaring up as he kept himself from firing at Ignus. He instead sat down, yanking at the crown atop his head with no success. Ignus shrugged, walking back down the street opposite to the one Morgan took off down.

    "Fair enough. Better not be trying anything funny, kid. I ain't the only one watchin' ya…"

    "I… Wait! What about–" He was too slow. Ignus had already mostly vanished, only his silhouette barely visible as he clambered onto a nearby roof and slid into the darkness.

    The Monferno's words rattled him. Morgan had already disappeared from his sights as well, leaving Alan fully alone in the middle of the street. A cold shiver ran down his spine, instincts screaming at him to hide. He obliged, ducking into a nearby alleyway, and then into an exposed bit of crawlspace under one of the homes.

    What am I supposed to do?! The Vulpix panicked. He clawed at the wooden support beams surrounding him in an attempt to calm himself down. Morgan never told me where… I can't go out there! What if Ignus was right? What if they're all out to get me?! Edward… what did you… why did you–

    Alan's internal lamenting was cut short as he heard footsteps approaching. He pressed himself against the walls of the crawlspace as tightly as he could, though his hind legs and tails were still mostly exposed.

    The footsteps slowed as the figure approached. It almost seemed… weary, almost, of the cornered Vulpix, taking its time to clear the surrounding alleyway, before eventually appearing in Alan's field of vision.

    A cloaked shadow loomed over Alan, stood completely still aside from the many locks of wispy hair poking out from every opening, constantly flowing even in the windless alleyway the two of them found themselves in. Its face was completely obscured, aside from a pair of golden eyes, its untrusting gaze seemingly almost piercing directly through Alan's soul.

    "Urk–!"

    His instincts screamed, every muscle in his body attempting to wrest control from him. Yet he sat firm, locking eyes with the golden-eyed being standing over him. He controlled his breathing, and as much of the shaking as he could.

    "H-Hey… Would y-you… g-guh!" Alan choked on his words, stumbling under the immense pressure coming from above. The cloaked being was patient, however, silently waiting as Alan put himself back together. "H-Have you s-seen… uh… m-my friend? A-About my s-size… a-and pink… p-please…"

    It crouched, silently pondering over his words for a moment. The smaller difference in sizes lightened the pressure Alan felt a little. The Vulpix flinched as the figure shifted, reaching at him with an outstretched hand, its claws adorned in gold and silver decoration while the rest of the hand was mostly bandaged up, leaving only a small amount of light gray fur exposed.

    "I-I don't… M-Me…?"

    It remained silent, waiting for Alan to make the judgement himself.

    He grit his teeth, sighing to himself before grabbing onto the hand. It was cold to the touch, even for his supposedly 'icy' body. His relatively small stature meant that, with a bit of effort, he was able to nestle himself comfortably within the being's palm.

    "O-Okay… Please… don't h-hurt me…"

    The figure brought down its cloak, revealing a gray-furred canine hiding underneath. A ghostly Zoroark, Alan recognized. More gold rings adorned the canine's scarred ears and snout, as well as along the bundles of wispy crimson-white hair flowing from its head.

    "A-Ah…" Alan felt slightly more comfortable following the Zoroark's reveal, the overwhelming pressure being lifted off him allowing him to finally breathe once more. "You're gonna help me…? T-Thank you…! Sorry for the trouble…"

    They didn't reply, but its intentions were clear as day to the Vulpix. The Zoroark took one last glance at their surroundings, ensuring no one spotted the two of them as they stuffed Alan into their cloak, and melted into the darkness of the surrounding alleyway.

    Alan didn't mind the Zoroark's methods, thankfully. In fact, he practically melted into the pocket inside the cloak he found himself wedged in. Gray-ish wispy hairs surrounded him, tangling between his legs and body as his carrier moved about, keeping him from slipping out from the cloak.

    He tried peeking out a couple times, though on every attempt the Zoroark would push the Vulpix's head back inside. After his fourth attempt he capitulated, instead carefully burrowing a little deeper into the Zoroark's hairs. Before long, a wave of drowsiness washed over him, his head drooping as he quickly drifted off to sleep.

    His next moment of consciousness came rather abruptly. He found himself lying in the soil, having been unceremoniously dumped out of the cloak and onto the cold hard ground.

    "Nghh… ughh… Wuh! Ah!" After a moment Alan realized his current situation, scrambling to his feet to face the Zoroark, watching over the Vulpix with their uncaring, tired eyes. "R-Right! Sorry for the trouble… uh… n-nevermind."

    He turned over all the pockets on the inside of his robe, with only a few stems of the berries they ate along the way falling out.

    "I-I don't have anything to p-pay you with… Please I–"

    The Zoroark held out a hand, silencing Alan in an instant. They gave him a curt nod towards the direction of a standalone house, and Alan nodded back, quickly inferring that it was indeed Morgan's house. He could hear faint sounds of objects crashing and scattering on the ground from that direction. Someone, hopefully Morgan, was definitely inside.

    He turned back to thank the Zoroark. However, they had already disappeared into the unlit mass of the surrounding houses. Regardless, he silently offered a quick, appreciative thank towards where the Zoroark once stood anyway.

    Right, Morgan… I wonder what made you run off like that… Alan thought as he approached the run-down house. The gates to the overgrown lawn were locked, as expected, though a conveniently placed Jangmo-o sized opening in the dilapidated walls right beside it was much appreciated by the Vulpix.

    Being careful not to step on any of the broken glass scattered about the surrounding lawn and pavement, Alan peered into one of the broken windows of the run-down house. Morgan lay motionless at the center of a huge mess of ripped and burned belongings, a tattered piece of cloth gripped tightly between his claws.

    "Morgan! A-Are you… okay?"

    No reply. Only the faintest flick of the Jangmo-o's ears indicated to Alan that he was still alive. Still, Alan breathed a loud sigh of relief, at least he wasn't separated from Morgan anymore.

    Alan poked at the broken glass lining the window, carefully pushing the sharper bits off onto the ground, creating a relatively safe opening for him to drop into.

    "Morgan? Can you hear me? Are you–" Alan paused. The Jangmo-o was… crying? He rushed over to confirm his initial observation. Morgan stirred, turning away and curling even more tightly around the ripped piece of cloth around his claw.

    "M-Morgan I–"

    "Go home, kiddo." Morgan said coldly. His tail swatted Alan's attempts to get closer away. "I don't want yer seein' me like this. So go."

    "I-I… Morgan please… I can he–" He paused. He couldn't help. He didn't even know what was wrong. But he was desperate, he wouldn't survive a week without Morgan. "Please… Tell me. T-Tell me what's wrong…"

    Morgan grit his teeth, trying to keep some semblance of composure, fighting back the tears. "K-Kiddo, I– ngh…. There's no point…"

    "No point?"

    "To trying! They're gone, Alan! Hunters took em'!" Morgan tossed the piece of cloth aside, revealing dried bits of blood on its underside. "I should've known they'd still be after us…"

    "...hunters?" Alan questioned, attempting to approach the Jangmo-o, only be to swatted away by Morgan's tail once more.

    "Hunters. Religious freaks they are, been chasin' us for years. Calls me and pa 'heretics' cause of our weird color and whatever. Papa usually chases them away, but…" Morgan shifted further, revealing a chipped fragment of a pink scale. "Not this time, I guess…"

    "I…" Alan was at a loss for words. He paced around, observing the debris and furniture scattered around the room they were in. Overturned chairs and tables, drawers and closets emptied and–

    Wait… Alan paused. They're all empty! Morgan called them hunters, not thieves! That means…

    "But what if they're still out there? Y-Your family, I-I mean…"

    Morgan gave the Vulpix a silent yet curious glare, though he remained silent, allowing Alan to continue.

    "I-I mean, you called them hunters, right? They wouldn't steal any of your stuff, r-right?"

    "Steal?" Morgan snorted. "Not in a million moons. Hell, they wouldn't even touch it without drowning it in holy water first, with me being so 'unclean' or whatever…"

    "Then why are your drawers and closets empty? Not only that, only the essentials are missing as well?" Alan pointed to an unopened cupboard, a small number of golden coins and rings stashed inside. "If it were any conventional thief, would they only take clothes and food while leaving all this stuff?"

    "I don't…"

    "There's no blood, or any sign of a fight aside from a few overturned tables and a chipped fragment of a scale! This doesn't look like murder, Morgan!" Alan stamped his foot down enthusiastically. "If anything this is proof they're safe!"

    "I-If that's t-true…" Morgan trailed off. He shook his head, newfound motivation reinvigorating his form once more. "Yer right, kiddo. I… should trust them more… Papa is strong, I-I'll believe in him."

    He looked down at the piece of cloth in his claws, hugging it even tighter than before.

    "Thanks…"

    Morgan shifted, gesturing for Alan to sit beside him. The duo remained silent, basking in the melancholic relief for just a moment longer.

    "I'm home, papa…" Morgan whispered to himself as he clawed back up, motioning for the Vulpix to follow. He led Alan into a tiny room located on the other side of the house, the door leading to the room barely tall enough for them to slip through. Inside stood no furniture, aside from a small fire pit near the center that Morgan quickly lit for Alan, alongside a pile of dusty blankets along the back end of the room.

    "As barren as I left it, huh." he lamented.

    It was cozy enough for the Vulpix, however, having already snuggled up against one side of the pile of blankets. Morgan joined him

    "So… what now?" Alan asked, preening his tails for the little bits of dust and grime caused by the mess outside. When the Jangmo-o stared back in confusion, he continued.

    "I mean, I still don't know what's going on with Necrozma, and we don't have a single lead on where your family could be. Besides…" Alan reached into his robe, throwing out a single coin from one of his pockets. "That's all the money I managed to grab. Turns out, being king means you barely ever have to pay for anything yourself… I assume you don't have any money on you either?"

    Morgan shook his head, entirely ignoring the Vulpix's question. "We need to keep lookin', they couldn't have gone too far…"

    "No! Morgan, listen to me!" Alan interrupted, the urgency and annoyance in his voice snapping the Jangmo-o back to attention. "We have no plan! We have no leads! We don't even have any money to buy food!"

    "I… could forage for berries–"

    "What if we can't! What if we have to go into a desert or something?! Morgan, please! We need something better than that! Please… please tell me… I-I know nothing about this place… There has to be something we can do…"

    "Yer right…" Morgan's expression darkened. "Puttin' me in a rough spot, ain't ya? Let's see…"

    The dragon ummed and ahhed for a moment, pacing around the room as he began listing off any sort of job he could think of.

    "We could become Mailmon?"

    Alan shook his head in disagreement. "We'd be stuck on one mail route, no way we're gonna find anything that way."

    "Merchants?"

    "Like we have anything to sell?"

    "...Lighters? Like papa used to."

    "I…" Alan paused. "No."

    "Could just steal some money…"

    "Do you want to go back to prison?"

    "Argh! Yer so damn picky!"

    Morgan settled down on the opposite side of the blanket, visibly frustrated. "Ain't a perfect job 'round these parts, kiddo. Well, 'cept guild, but they'll never take us…"

    "Guild?" Alan asked, intrigued.

    "Buncha merc teams supported by the crown. Though they're independent and widespread enough the royals got no real influence on it. Pays decently too, I've heard. Teams travel around, takin' jobs from whatever guild branch is closest. There's a branch here in Ashton, actually."

    "That seems perfect!" Alan perked up, excitement returning to his tone. It quickly dissipated, however, as he noticed the Jangmo-o's sullen look. "...there's more to it, isn't there?"

    "Guild's good 'n all, but there's a test you need to take to be accepted. Guildmaster of the branch personally runs it I heard." Morgan sighed, scratching a tiny doodle into the wooden floor with his claws. "She's pretty mean, the guildmaster. I mean, folks call her the 'Witch of the South' for a reason. Ruthless in battle, and so brazen as to never trick her opponents with illusions or moves. Quite the Zoroark, ain't she?"

    Morgan tapped his doodle on the floor. It was a bit crude, yet Alan still recognized the general shape of the drawing in an instant.

    Hooded face… Wispy hair… Piercing gaze… That Zoroark!

    "Ya know 'er?" Morgan asked.

    Alan shook his head. He elected to stay silent about his encounter with the Zoroark for the time being, as well as his little conversation with Ignus after the Jangmo-o had bolted off.

    "Too bad. She's a nice gal, trust."

    Alan nodded dismissively. He'll be the judge of that himself, given his less-than-stellar experience with most of the Pokemon in this world so far.

    "So, the test. Is it hard? A-As in… can we pass?"

    "Dunno." Morgan shrugged. "Heard things here and there but nothin' solid. Changes with every 'mon that takes it. Wanted to try it years ago, but ma and pa wouldn't let me."

    Alan began to nod off, his head swaying along to the dimming candlelight. Stifling a yawn, he shook himself back into a slightly more conscious state.

    "So that's the plan, then?" Alan said. "Take the test, and hope for the best? Guilds our best chance to achieve both of our goals, right?"

    "Yer head's droppin' again, kiddo." Morgan shuffled over, folding the topmost blanket over the barely awake Vulpix. "But yeah, 's our best shot at gettin' it done. I'll dig around for some food in the morning."

    Morgan sidled up against Alan, his chipped head scale gently brushing against the Vulpix's snow-white fur.

    "...!"

    Alan tensed for a moment, though his drowsiness quickly overran him as his body relaxed, the Jangmo-o's head sinking even deeper into his fur. His tails curled around Morgan, now entirely enveloped by the slumbering Vulpix.

    "Yer pretty damn warm for a snow pix, y'know that?"

    "...mmhm. Warm…"

    Morgan chuckled, slowly shifting his head off the Vulpix's body. "Thanks again, kiddo. For bein' the only hope I have left in this world. Good night."
     
    Chapter 14 - Moonlit Musings
  • Turkeyuwu

    Rhythm Gamer
    Location
    Thailand
    Pronouns
    He/Him | They/Them
    TW//Impaling, Graphic Depictions of Blood

    I was wrong…

    People… can't change.

    We have no choice… but to live shackled onto the path dictated by this disease.

    My family, whom I love so much, have tried to convince me, to turn me to their side…

    …yet I was too slow. I was the only one who didn't understand, until it was too late.

    Yes. A throne most fitting for such a pathetic lord, wouldn't you say…?

    - Don Quixote | Limbus Company (Canto VII)


    Alan's senses returned much faster than before as his body accustomed itself to his mental realm. He silently panicked for a moment, unable to orient himself in the dense fog, fearful of any potential dangers lurking within the mist.

    His worries quickly melted into anger, however, as Necrozma's illusory form separated itself from the hazy surroundings. With a wave of his claws, the mist parted, revealing the tables and chairs placed about his realm, their positions unchanged from Alan's last meeting.

    "Awake already?" Necrozma said, a twinge of surprise and amusement mixed into his otherwise bland tone. "Quite courteous to allow me to part the mist, are you not?"

    "Necrozma– You…!"

    "Hmm… I expected a stronger reaction from you." Necrozma said, imitating a chin scratch with his illusory body. "Perhaps I was right to show you that memory."

    "What? Your mistakes?" Alan snarled.

    "Mistakes they are not. It was simply the cost humanity paid for failing their benefactor."

    "Yet now you rely on me to get you out of whatever mess you're in?" His tails curled as an ice chill grew in his throat. "You didn't even return me my memories like promised! I know I was picked out of desperation but… c'mon man!"

    Fuming with rage, Alan launched a Powder Snow directly at Necrozma's kaleidoscopic eyes. Necrozma sighed; a simple wave of his hand was enough to will the attack to reverse course. The counterattack splashed around Alan's feet, freezing him in place.

    With his free hand, Necrozma conjured up a set of illusory chains, spiking out of the ground around Alan as they wrapped around his snout. Bound and frozen, the Vulpix could only struggle as Necrozma circled around him, waiting for Alan's rage to calm before loosening the chains around his muzzle.

    "Such insolence. But a fair response. I shall overlook this transgression, but I will not offer such mercy next time."

    Alan shuddered. He remained frozen in place, the ice blessed by Necrozma unable to melt under his presence.

    "Ugh… fine."

    "Good. We have much else to discuss, both between me as well as between you and your vessel."

    The mist nearest to Alan receded, revealing the frozen image of Edward, his stony body balanced haphazardly atop a pedestal, similar in form to how it stood during his first meeting with Necrozma.

    "M-My vessel…? Edward? What did you d-do to him!?"

    "That is simply how I store him during our meetings. Present, but never acknowledged. Listening, yet never able to reply. Aware, but never independent." Necrozma answered. He glowed, a mote of light floating off his body and melting into the statue's mouth. "Rise, Vessel. Our time is fleeting."

    Edward flopped forward as he regained control, his body crashing violently into the ground beside Alan.

    "Augh… Alan… I-I…" Edward sputtered, dazed. He kept his head low, working through his headache and confusion as he swiveled around towards his captor. "Necrozma… we had–"

    "An arrangement? Indeed, we did. Though for the purposes of this meeting, it is null and void. A statue may listen, but it is unable to speak. You have something to add to this meeting."

    The Serperior hissed, retreating behind Alan. "I have nothing to say, Necrozma. Put me back. This freedom, I don't deserve it."

    "Silence, vessel. This repentant mindset of yours is destructive and inefficient."

    Edward relented, slinking towards Alan, gently coiling around the Vulpix. The added weight of the stone serpent shattered the ice, freeing him from his own attack. Alan made a mental note to always carry something to assist in melting the ice should a similar situation arise in the waking world.

    "I can tell you… many things, Alan." Edward, though greatly annoyed, kept his tone with Alan gentle, both out of pity and respect for his… mental landlord. "Though… I believe I know what Necrozma is alluding to. Why he won't tell you himself is beyond me…"

    "It is not my place to speak on behalf of your mistakes. You mentioned repentance, did you not? Yet you choose to repent without reflection upon your sins, a hopeless endeavor."

    "Urgh…" Edward cringed, shaking his head in reluctant acknowledgment.

    "Y-You don't have to! If you don't want…" Alan said, trying to alleviate the rising tension. "Necrozma, aren't you supposed to– why can't you treat him better? If he's supposed to be this oh-so-important thing that keeps me alive… Why do you treat him like complete trash?"

    "It is because I deserve it…"

    "It is because he deserves it."

    They answered simultaneously, Edward hiding further away in between his coiled body wrapping around the Vulpix.

    "Deserve what? I see you blame yourself for the state you left the kingdom in, but your life hasn't been in your control in centuries!" Alan argued. "You've already paid your price, watching the kingdom you've worked so hard to build crumble while you remained powerless to do anything about it! Why can't either of you see that?!"

    "Silence!" Necrozma boomed, the intensity of his command heavily rocking their surroundings. "The vessel is under my domain. He will do what I tell him to do. Say what I want him to say. Think how I want him to think. Do I make myself clear?"

    "Guh…"

    "I have already overlooked a transgression of yours once this meeting. Any further disobedience will result in the termination of our little agreement. Do I make myself clear?"

    "Urk! Y-Yes!" Alan choked. Necrozma's pressure was unbearable, the Vulpix and Serperior were both pinned under his crushing arua. "I-I won't… please…"

    "Hmph." Necrozma snorted, shaking his head in disappointment. "Even in my weakened form, you two could not withstand my pressure. Perhaps my blessing has gone to waste. Vessel, speak."

    Edward sighed, poking his head back out to face the Vulpix. He seemed… embarrassed, ashamed, with guilt written all over his marble face. Alan expected as much, given the Seperior's track record of inept and unprincipled practices.

    "My reputation… I-I… am not as beloved as my cabinet tells you I was…" Edward sighed, a tired, regretful wobble piercing through his pained tone. "The residents outside my city… have not liked me for generations. They put a fake smile on when I visit… forced to, by my guards. I only realize now, how stooped in delusion and grandeur I was. I could've… should've done something about it…"

    The Vulpix remained silent, allowing the Serperior to continue.

    "Be careful, Alan. If that Monferno was anything to go off of, keep that crown hidden as best you can. Lie, deceive them if need be. Don't let them catch on. There will be many, many more that want me– you dead."

    "That's it?" Alan snorted, incredulous. "You think I couldn't figure that out by myself? That most people fucking hate me? I'm beginning to understand why it was so damn easy for Celeste and Lorenzo to take advantage of you, Edward."

    "I'm serious, Alan! It's much more than just a few 'mon wanting your head!" Edward uncoiled himself, slithering over to an empty spot in the room, forming a triangle between the three inhabitants of Alan's mental space. "You should be worrying about the Republic, more than anything. Given how widespread their connections are, I'm sure the upper brass already know all about our situation."

    "The Republic…?" the Vulpix asked. In the time in this world so far, Alan hadn't heard of this 'Republic' entity yet. Not from Morgan, nor from the Royal Cabinet, or from any of the dozens of books he skimmed through in the Library.

    "Quite secretive, they are, popping up from time to time, rallying the citizens of Krux to rise up against me. They specialize in acting discreetly: Assassinations, kidnappings, whatever else they need to do against those working for me to get closer to me. Just so they can control me as well, like everyone else during and after my lives…"

    The Serperior hissed at Necrozma, who returned his gesture with an uncaring shrug.

    "So why not them?"

    "H-Huh? Excuse me?"

    "If you knew everyone was vying for control over your life… why didn't you let them have you?" Alan questioned. "You were already miserable, weren't you? From how you described them, the Cabinet doesn't seem any better than those in the Republic…"

    "Because at least the Cabinet pretended to care for me!" Edward snapped. He brought a few vines up to his face, covering the pained shame in his gaze. "The Republic is a group of heartless, sadistic bastards. They would have thrown me in a cell, burned the palace to the ground, murdered anyone associated with me, and left me to rot once they were done with me!"

    "I…"

    "I was stuck with the Cabinet if I wanted to keep on living… even through their lies and forceful ways… they– I cared for them!"

    Alan was left speechless. Edward's outburst was… unexpected of him. He had seen some display of emotion from the Seperior before, though he was never as angry or spiteful as this. What surprised him even more was that Necrozma allowed this, instead of dragging him back into the mist in chains.

    Is this… a warning? Alan wondered. A foreboding sign of things to come? Necrozma wanted me to hear this straight from Edward himself… Something to make me fear the outside world… so that I rely solely on Necrozma…? Well, it won't work on me, damn it! I'm better than that!

    "They… don't know…" Edward continued. "They don't know how we reincarnate. It's a secret known only to me and the Cabinet. I-I'm aware… how selfish that sounds… but it was for the best no one else knew…"

    "Fascinating." Necrozma nodded along. Even his interest was piqued by the Seperior's distressed rambling.

    "By the time I realized how little power I truly had… I was in too deep. I had no other way out, aside from permanently dying. Though… given where I am now, maybe that would have been the better option… In fairness, it was lose-lose either option I chose…"

    Necrozma chuckled, eliciting another fearful yip from the Vulpix. "Heh. You've been quite entertaining with your self introspection, vessel. For that, I shall free you from my shackles for the rest of our little meeting here."

    "Urgh… How joyous…" Edward sneered. "Alan, heed my warning and beware the Republic. They act fast and strike faster. Hide your crown as best you can and speak of your situation as little as you can. That's all I can tell you. Now please... leave me be..."

    Edward flopped onto the ground, tiredly raising his vines to hide his face once more. Alan walked over toward the Serperior, attempting to comfort him. As he approached, however, he felt his body glow a mix of gold and purple, Necrozma's psychic hold lifting him off the ground and forcing him to face the god once more.

    "The vessel does not deserve any more attention. We have little time left, Alan. Your next assignment is ready." Necrozma said as he waved his hands, hiding away Edward's form under the dense fog of the mental realm.

    "...right." Alan sighed. "But… you still haven't given me back my memories for the last task yet."

    "I suppose my personal memories have gone ill-appreciated."

    Alan sensed the crushing aura converging around him once more. "N-No! I mean– not at all… I just…"

    "Hm?"

    "N-Nevermind…" Alan sank into his robe, cowering. "Thank you… f-for the memory… s-sir."

    "As expected. I will guarantee, however, that your next pebbles will contain memories entirely of your own. I hope those terms are admissible."

    "As for your next task…" Necrozma waved the mist around, condensing some of it into a misty orb-of-sorts. He channeled a small amount of his radiance into the orb, causing it to rapidly expand past Alan and into the remaining fog floating around him. An endless whiteness replaced the dusty gray expanse of his realm, the Vulpix remaining in stunned silence as Necrozma worked his powers.

    "A full reset…" Necrozma whispered to himself, though his booming voice could still be heard by Alan. "No matter, I can simply–"

    Necrozma floated around, an explosion of color following wherever he went, almost as if he was 'painting' their surroundings into existence. The billowing grasslands, the dusty creeping pathways, and towns filled with crowds of faceless Pokemon. They were all oddly familiar to the Vulpix, almost as if Necrozma had pulled them straight from his memory.

    "Curious. This is quite different from how I–" Necrozma jerked around, pulled out of his reminiscing by Alan's presence. Noticing his confused stare, the god answered. "Yes, I have constructed our surroundings from your memories. Having free reign of your mind allows me to do such things even with my limited power."

    "Free… reign…?"

    "Do not fear, Alan. I do not plan to impede any further on your memories, lest you provoke me to do so, at the very least."

    Necrozma's unnerving glare was enough for the Vulpix to back down, nodding obediently without further comment. The response was satisfactory enough for the god, turning back to finish generating their surroundings.

    "Quite nice, the world has become. Green forests, blue skies, flowing rivers…" Necrozma commented, a hint of pained nostalgia slipping through his usual plain emotionless tone, "Much nicer than the pure death and hellfire I left it in."

    "You… N-Nevermind…" Alan shuddered, biting his lip to keep himself from speaking any further.

    The screen zoomed in on a large cave entrance, one Alan recognized as having walked past on the way to the town. "Your next task, Alan, is to tame a Mystery Dungeon."

    "T-Tame? I don't–"

    "Do not act ignorant. I have already simplified my choice of words to match your understanding of this world. Remain quiet for this, your full understanding is needed to complete this task."

    Necrozma led them onwards, zooming past the cave entrance and into the dungeon itself. As they progressed their surroundings turned darker and hazier, Alan's memories and knowledge of the dungeon proving increasingly lacking the deeper they dove. Before the Vulpix's mind could wander their surroundings suddenly turned clear, the once undefined fuzz collapsing into tiny white strands that guided the Vulpix's vision towards the center of the room.

    A pedestal stood where the threads converged, gray fog similar in color and density to the one swirling around Alan's mental realm converging around it. Atop the pedestal was a crystal, its surface smooth yet roughly defined, entirely black yet still able to illuminate the room it sat within.

    "My departure from the living realm was… messy, I admit." Necrozma's voice wobbled, the stark departure from his usual inflectionless tone not having gone unnoticed by Alan. "My… banishment was a violent one. My enemies shattered me, casting as much of me as they could into this realm while scattering what remained throughout the land."

    Shattered…? Someone was strong enough to defeat him? Alan gave another confused look towards Necrozma, fully ignoring the Vulpix as he continued his rambling monologue.

    "My shards still contain a huge amount of power, but they run wild without control. The smaller ones are easily discovered, dug up and used to augment one's battle prowess, while the larger shards are more elusive, embedding themselves into the ground and melding their surroundings into an ever-expanding dungeon instead."

    "But… why would they even grow? If they're so powerful already?" Alan asked, reaching out at the image of the shard and pedestal in front of him.

    "Similar to how fire heats the air and ground around it, the shards radiate power… my power… in the form of a dungeon. Hmph, such a pity how much of my potential has been wasted over– Nghk!"

    The images flickered as Necrozma stumbled, his body violently crashing into the ground before dissipating back into mist entirely alongside the conjured images. As the realm returned to normalcy, Necrozma's booming voice was reduced to all but a quiet, disembodied whisper.

    "...I see."

    Alan, unaffected by Necrozma's violent reaction, called out for the god. "What was that?! You still have to explain what I'm supposed to do! Necrozma!"

    "Ngh… I am still… present… do not fear." Necrozma said tiredly. "I was… you may call it 'limit testing', in a way. We do not have much longer, allow me to finish before we part ways once more."

    A deep rumble echoed about the space as the fog began to close in. The ground at the edge of the fog cracked, splitting off and falling into the newly exposed void beneath as the Vulpix scrambled to stand at the center of the remaining land.

    "Your mental realm is strained, I am strained. Do not worry, we will both recover in due time." Necrozma assured the Vulpix, his barely audible whispering having an oddly soothing effect on Alan. "As has been observed, I do not have the adequate strength to escape from my banishment. I require more of myself here, where I am able to better control my strength."

    The air thinned as Alan began to suffocate as the void continued to creep dangerously close to where he stood.

    "Your task is to enter a Mystery Dungeon and take my shard from its center, ending its expansion as you 'tame' the dungeon. I will explain how to return it to me at a more opportune time."

    Alan's vision was fading as the fog closed in on all sides. His legs dangled over the void, the last of the ground beneath him moments away from crumbling into the nothingness below.

    "Ah yes, payment. The same as we have agreed upon. A portion of your memories, and my strength you may use for yourself. Goodbye, Alan."

    As Necrozma's voice faded the mist rushed into his body, filling his vision with gray in his last moments of lucidity. He tipped over, the minuscule amount of remaining ground unable to support him any longer. His mind slowed as the void encroached upon his body, gently dissolving him away as he plummeted. Alan, blessed with a purpose once more, smiled to himself as he drifted away back into the waking world.


    "You couldn't find him?! Has all my training been for naught?!"

    A Dewott laid pressed against the wall, bruised and bloodied as he cowered under Celeste's screaming. His spear was snapped in half, the sharp end impaled through his stomach and pinning him to the wall.

    "I-It's not–"

    "Answer me!" Celeste interrupted, bringing her claymore up to the Dewott's neck. "The next words out of your mouth better be his exact location or I will–"

    Lorenzo stepped in, dragging the Sceptile away by the tail. "Ooookay. Goin' way too far there, Cel. Tone it down a bit will ya?"

    "Too far?! For His Majesty?!" Celeste whipped around, swinging her weapon at the Aggron. Though a few hits connected, they were much too weak for Lorenzo to notice as he flung Celeste as far away as he could.

    Lorenzo beckoned Hikaru and Chai to hold the Sceptile down, though she barely was able to put up any more of a fight. A half-sobbing half-cursing mess, the Lucario and Breloom guards were able to do little more than put their combined weights on top of Celeste as they attempted to keep her from causing any more damage.

    "Traitors! Unhand me! In the name of King Edward and the domain of Arceus you will–"

    "Enough!"

    The Lucario and Breloom barely jumped out of the way in time before Lorenzo smashed the claymore into her face, silencing her. The Aggron's eyes were bloodshot, tired of her constant screaming and violence. Celeste was barely conscious, though much calmer than before, mental clarity and sense having finally been knocked into her head.

    "Karu, Chai. Speak some sense into her and get her out of here. I don't want to hear another peep from her for the rest of today." Lorenzo commanded. "Sharron, with me. We'll have many more injured soldiers to deal with."

    He shuffled over towards the Shaymin, already tending to the heavily wounded Dewott. Movement from the downed Sceptile panicked the two guards, though Chai was quick to put his weight back on her body. Fortunately, she was no longer able to resist, her muscles relaxing as tears pooled on the ground around her bruised and bloodied face.

    "I… can't…" She whimpered softly, hiding her face in embarrassment.

    "Madam Celeste, please…" Chai begged. He held his tail up, prepared to put the Sceptile to sleep with his spores. "Please let me and Hikaru search for him. We are his loyal guards, we are the ones responsible for his safety. You needn't worry, we will find him."

    Celeste sighed, nodding weakly as Hikaru helped her stand back up. She gave the Aggron one final glare, before wordlessly limping away with the help of Edward's most loyal guards. A trail of blood and tears followed them as the three rounded the corner and out of the room.

    "Lorenzo? Lorenzo! Oi! Help me here!"

    Sharron was standing atop the Dewott, attempting to pull the spear out with his teeth. With each pull the Dewott gasped, whimpering through grit teeth as he pushed away the Shaymin every time.

    "Don't… I don't deserve to– I failed… her…"

    Sharron ripped off part of a nearby curtain, tying it around the spear for better grip. Lorenzo joined in, picking up the Shaymin and leaning back with his entire weight.

    "GAAAH!" The Dewott screamed in agony, though he still remained pinned to the wall, impaled with such force that the tip of the spear had passed through the other end and completely embedded itself into the castle's stony walls.

    "No use… Leave… me…" he stressed in between pained breaths. "This is nothing… compared to disappointing… her…"

    Lorenzo sighed, sensing the futility in their attempts at freeing the Dewott. He stepped away, Sharron still in hand, whispering to him once the two of them were out of range.

    "Confirm this for me, did the spearhead fully pass through his body?"

    "...Yes?" The Shaymin turned, brows raised in confusion. "I believe so. Though I don't see why that would–"

    He paused, shuddering. "N-No… His insides won't… Lorenzo don't!"

    "Sorry for giving you more work, Sharron." The Aggron sighed apologetically. "I'll be gentle, don't worry."

    Lorenzo turned, dashing towards the Dewott with such speed it almost seemed as if he was teleporting towards the otter. Without offering time for him to react Lorenzo grabbed him by the neck and legs, yanking his body off the rest of the spear's handle and freeing the Dewott in one swift motion.

    "Orans! Sleep Seeds! Bandages! Now!" the Aggron commanded, Sharron scrambling to procure the requested items.

    The screaming was ugly, and the mess of blood and fur staining the carpet even uglier. Lorenzo stemmed the bleeding with his fingers as Sharron rushed over, stuffing a hastily crushed mix of berries and seeds into his patient's mouth. A hush quickly fell across the room as the screaming quietened, the two remaining conscious Pokemon letting out heavy sighs of relief after Sharron applied the last layer of bandages onto the sleeping Dewott.

    "Lorenzo, if I may?"

    "Uhm… sure?"

    Sharron hopped into the air, flipping around as he delivered a powerful kick to the side of the Aggron's head. Lorenzo, busy wiping blood off his arms and legs failed to react in time, the kick leaving a dent at the point of impact.

    "Ow–!"

    "You fucking idiot!" Sharron scolded. "Do you know how many things could have gone wrong there?! You're lucky ripping him out like that didn't shred his organs into pieces!"

    "You're blaming me for this? It's not like I was the one who impaled him!"

    "Ugh… never mind. Reckless bastards, the lot of you…"

    The Shaymin slumped against the wall, paws on his face in a state of exhausted contemplation. Lorenzo joined beside him, quietly watching the sleeping Dewott from afar as he gave Sharron time to recover.

    "...do you think what Celeste told us was true?" Sharron asked. "What Edward told her, I-I mean."

    "Hrm. Celeste didn't even call him Edward anymore, did she?"

    Sharron rubbed his eyes, lying on the ground with his arms splayed out. Lorenzo imitated him once more, carefully sliding down the wall so as not to accidentally crush the grass type.

    "He… or whatever that thing was…" Lorenzo continued, "The things it mentions aren't things Edward would ever notice."

    "So it's true then? That Edward's truly gone?"

    "I can't tell… You're more well-versed in rituals and the reincarnation process than anyone here. It's your call to make, if anything."

    Lorenzo stood back up, looming tall over Sharron, face now unburied from his paws and staring intently back at the Aggron.

    "Though, if you want my… true opinions… pardon my language, but I think she's full of shit."

    "What?"

    "As I mentioned, if she were to be believed, whatever is possessing Edward's new body is doing so out of malicious intent. Edward doesn't have the constitution to break free of its control, or he would have done so at the first chance he got."

    He paused, turning towards the Dewott, gently picking him up without disturbing his slumber. Sharron joined him, collecting the pieces of medical equipment strewn across the floor in the rush to save the injured guard.

    "Therefore, it's plausible to assume that it was only acting from the knowledge that it and Edward had." Lorenzo conjectured, shifting the Dewott around into a more comfortable position in his arms. "What it spoke of… isn't something it knows, and isn't something Edward would ever notice."

    Sharron's ears perked up, his interest piqued.

    "It is, however, something she knows. The problems we know about…"

    "Wh– What are you trying to imply?"

    Lorenzo grit his teeth. "She lied! Edward was never possessed! It was all a lie from the start, her taking advantage of a scared and confused Edward to project her own frustrations onto a scapegoat! To try and subtly change our ways without being the one responsible!"

    The Pokemon in his arm stirred from the commotion, though Lorenzo quickly stuffed another Sleep Seed into their mouth to keep them in their slumber.

    "Slick bastard… she's lucky I care more about Edward's wellbeing than her stupid little attempt of a power grab…"

    "What will you do about that then?"

    "Dunno." Lorenzo shrugged. "It's unlikely he's escaped, so he's most likely hiding in the slums southwest of the castle. I've got my folks on the case, as well as Kirlia teleporting around."

    "Your folks…? Aren't they your economic advisors?"

    "Ha!" The Aggron let out a hearty chuckle. "They'll do anything short of rolling in mud as long as I promise to approve their policy suggestions afterward. We'll find Edward, and hopefully before Celeste manages to kill someone."

    Sharron nodded in approval, though the Shaymin's concern still slipped past through with the barrage of questions he asked.

    "What if he did escape? What if there was a hole in the wall he slipped through? Shouldn't we be sending a couple guards to search the countryside? Hikaru and Chai are pretty capable of that… as long as we get them to report to you instead of Celeste…"

    The Shaymin picked at his bandages, the wounds Celeste inflicted on him still having barely healed.

    "And what if something happened to Edward? We won't have another reincarnation ritual set up in time. How about a plan for a potential succession?" Sharron pointed to his head. "Before you do anything, Lorenzo, you need to account for everything first."

    "Succession…?" Lorenzo glared at Sharron, each pronounced syllable dripping with an overflowing amount of anger. "Have Celeste's treasonous thoughts infected you too? I can't believe it!"

    Lorenzo raised his arms in frustration, the Dewott he was holding landing on the ground with a heavy thud.

    "Careful!" Sharron hissed, checking the Pokemon on the ground for any additional injuries. "And settle down! Remember, I am many millennia older than Edward is. I assisted the very first King of Krux in his conquests. I am much, much more loyal to the throne itself than any one ruler atop it. I too hope that we can recover Edward quickly, but we must plan for everything, Lorenzo. Even the worst-case scenarios you don't want to ever think about."

    The Aggron faltered, brushing Sharron away and scooping the Dewott back into his arms.

    "So let me ask you one more time… Given everything that's happened, what will you do? What is your plan if things go awry? What is your command?"

    "I… You're right…"

    Lorenzo sighed deeply, making his way towards the exit.

    "Fine. I'll call for another meeting with every remaining member of the Royal Court. We'll set up a plan of action, and I'll use it to keep both Celeste and Melissa in check."

    As he rounded the corner, the steel type doubled back for the final time.

    "And you, Sharron… Try not to get yourself ambushed by Celeste again, alright?"

    The room quietened as Lorenzo's footsteps faded into the background, leaving the Shaymin alone with his thoughts. A curious smile crept up his cheeks, Sharron shaking his head as he stared off into the distance.

    "Hah… You… whatever you are, Alan. I sincerely hope you know what you're doing…"
     
    Chapter 15 - Accursed Animosities New
  • Turkeyuwu

    Rhythm Gamer
    Location
    Thailand
    Pronouns
    He/Him | They/Them
    You know? You know: "I" remember:

    that old history that was brought up, and which you've bore witness to.

    But? That history? I don't like how it's said.

    I've decided to tell the tale a different way.

    For if old rule is useless, the rule may freely be broken–


    and new law made to spite it.

    Remnants of the self, darker parts of you that might recolor your soul;

    they are best off
    forgotten.

    Though, while some history is worth forgetting...

    ...You would do well to remember your name.
    - Arcaea | Main Story Entry 20-8

    "Wuaaagh!"

    Alan practically flung himself off the bed, heart racing as he hastily checked his body for any injuries. He remained splayed out on the ground, last night's encounter with Necrozma flashing through his mind as he worked through the contents of his next mission.

    His surroundings were still pitch black, the small window caked in a thick layer of dust that prevented any light from seeping through. Fortunately, he was able to locate the door after a few moments of fumbling around, and crawled out and into a room with more adequate lighting.

    "Morgan?"

    No response. Alan repeated his call from room to room, each time hearing back nothing but his own voice echoing throughout the empty house.

    A crushing wave of realization hit the Vulpix hard. Perhaps Morgan had finally realized what he had agreed to? Or perhaps he never actually agreed to begin with, only answering what Alan wanted to hear so for his own gain?

    He's probably already run far away from here… Alan thought, gripping his head in frustration. He was annoyed, not at the Jangmo-o, but more at himself for being the gullible trainwreck that he was. Worst of all, he dreaded having to explain to Necrozma next time they met about how he had lost the one Pokemon he was tasked to help break out of prison.

    "Haaah…." Alan shook his head, sighing. "It's for the better anyway…"

    "Fer the better of what?"

    Alan jumped, turning to see Morgan clambering over the broken windowsill, flopping over with little grace. On his back were a decent number of berries, each one carefully stabbed onto the tips of his pink scales, not unlike a very rudimentary kebab of sorts.

    "M-Morgan!? You're– I thought you–" Alan sputtered, scrambling to help the fallen Jangmo-o back onto his feet.

    Morgan gave a confused look, though it quickly melted into one of amusement paired with a hearty laugh.

    "Yer thought I was leavin', ain't ya?" the Jangmo-o shook his head, a mischievous grin sliding across his face. "Hah! I ain't gonna do my savior like that! Yer stuck with me, kiddo!"

    Alan lowered his head to hide his embarrassment, breathing a sigh of relief.

    "Anyways… I got ya some berries from 'round here. Already ate my share, so, there all yers. They're a bit… sorry, claws and all that…"

    "O-Oh! You didn't have t-to– That must've taken forever…"

    "Fer this?" Morgan pointed at the pile of berries on the ground, their juices leaking from the holes his scales poked in them. "It ain't a big effort, honestly. B'sides, yer were talkin' weird last night. Couldn't sleep so… I had a lotta time to kill."

    "Oh… S-Sorry…" Alan took one of the less damaged berries, nibbling on it lightly as he stared off into the distant blue skies through the broken window Morgan had jumped through. "I hope it won't be as bad as last time…"

    "Last time?"

    "I… Uh…"

    Morgan smiled, placing his paws– juice from the berries he carried back still dripping off them– onto Alan's shoulder. Though it was wet and sticky, Alan couldn't help but bring it towards his cheek, dyeing his fur a bright yellow as he smeared the juice onto his face.

    "Heh, yer face is all messy again." Morgan joked, though even he could notice the despondent look on Alan's face. "Look… I've already said, ya only need to tell me what ya willin' ta. I ain't gunna pry, aight?"

    "Y-Yeah… It's fine. Just a bit much to explain, that's all."

    Morgan tried sliding back, only to be met with resistance from the Vulpix as he strengthened his grip on the Jangmo-o's outstretched claw.

    "Please… Just a bit more. For me."

    "Alright, fer you. Take yer time."

    Alan hummed, his expression cycling around as he worked through the knowledge Necrozma had imparted upon him in last night's dream.

    "Morgan, how much do you know about Mystery Dungeons?"

    "Mystery Dungeons, eh?" Morgan said, retracting his claw to scratch his chin. Alan allowed it and turned back to work through his breakfast. "They're big dangerous caves that change their layout every time ya enter. Most big towns 'round here are built near one of 'em, since they spit out free stuff ter take every once in a while."

    "Mmm, I see. That lines up with what Necrozma told me…" Alan nodded in understanding. "He mentioned that he was responsible for the dungeons. Or, well… whatever is left of him in the waking realm, that is."

    "Waking realm…? 'N that pesky Necrozma guy again…What's his deal anyway?"

    "He…" Alan paused, carefully considering his next choice of words. "...was the one who brought me here, to this world. He has my memories, and in exchange for doing his bidding he promised he would give them back to me. I-I guess you could say I'm his servant, and he's my master?"

    Morgan scratched his head. "Mmm… sounds to me like yer got the bad end of the deal, honestly. Lemme guess, his first task was savin' me, and now he wants ya to mess with them Mystery Dungeons, don't he?"

    Alan nodded, ears drooping as he looked away in shame.

    "It ain't yer fault, kiddo. Mans holdin' ya memories hostage, for truth's sake! Besides, I don't mind 'em. He did tell you to save my life… so in a way, I also owe him one."

    "Y-Yeah… Necrozma ran out of time before he could explain everything, but essentially there's a bit of him in the core of every Mystery Dungeon. He wants me to take it and send it up to… wherever he is…"

    Morgan shrugged. He turned to sweep the remaining bits of berry juice and skin off the wooden floor and onto a nearby patch of exposed dirt with his tail.

    "Guild's still the best way forward fer us, then. Only those who work for 'em are allowed anywhere near the dungeons. Somethin' about it being too dangerous or whatever…"

    The dragon slapped himself, letting out an energized roar as he hopped toward the exit. "Aight! Up 'n at 'em! We ain't gonna make it all the way to the guild by just sittin' on our butts like this!"

    Alan giggled, brushing the last bits of food from his robe as he stepped toward the exit. He held the door for Morgan, beaming as he barreled through. They exchanged a quick smile, excitement buzzing between them as they set off toward the Guild.

    Sticking to the settlement's outskirts, they wove through the gaps of the town's dilapidated walls, wary of crossing paths with any other residents of Ashton. Before long, however, they reached an impass– their route blocked off by a sprawling, crowded market before them.

    Morgan seemed unfazed, marching forward without care, only stopping because of Alan desperately pulling him back.

    "What's got yer so huffy, kiddo? Guild's jus' right past that group of 'mon over there."

    Alan shook his head vigorously. "I-I think it's best if we… don't. Can't w-we go around?"

    "No can do. There's a big lake blocking the rest of the way if we don't pass through the market. We won't make it to the guild before sundown if we go around. Sorry kiddo, but we're goin' this way."

    "But… what if they're here? I- we can't go back! We'll both be killed! I-I don't want to–"

    The Jangmo-o placed his paw onto Alan's snout before moving it up towards his ears, gently caressing them as the Vulpix calmed down.

    "You've got nothin' to worry about. We ain't in the big city no more, ain't no one will care about what yer wearin' or where yer from."

    Alan opened his mouth before shutting it quickly after, choosing to speak of neither the Monferno's nor Edward's warning.

    "Heh, if anything ya should be lookin' out fer me. With my coloration, I'm… not the most popular around these parts. Or any parts, really… you'll see."

    Alan pawed at his crown one last time, though it refused to budge. He sighed in resignation, giving a nervous nod to Morgan.

    "Walk quickly, an' stay close ter me." Morgan stressed, pulling on the scruff of Alan's robes. "Whatever they say to ya, jus' ignore it. Turn yer ears off. Got it?"

    "A-Alright…"

    Morgan kept his head low, increasing his pace with every step he took. Alan followed suit, the intense liveliness of the marketgoers overwhelming the Vulpix's senses. The Pokemon surrounding them seemed to quieten as they forged on deeper into its center, the loud screaming and overt peddling of merchants replaced with whispers and hushed gasps.

    "M-Morgan I–"

    "Shh! Just keep movin'! It'll be over quick."

    The Jangmo-o, distracted by the Vulpix, bumped against a Heatmor's body, sending the both of them stumbling in opposite directions.

    "Sorry. Excuse us. We'll be outta yer sights."

    Before he could continue walking, however, he felt a strong tug on his tail. A Barbaracle towered over the dragon, their foot stamped atop Morgan's tail, pinning him in place. The Heatmor he had bumped into sandwiched him, both Pokemon sharing disgusted glares at the pink-scaled Jangmo-o beneath them.

    "Tch! And what do we have here?" The Heatmor sneered, licking his eyelids with his tongue, almost as if preparing to pounce upon the Jangmo-o like he would a Durant. "Didn't think I'd see your ugly mug 'round these parts again."

    The Heatmor closed in, shoving Morgan with his leg while his partner swiped the Jangmo-o off his feet, sending him stumbling face-first into the ground. They paused for a moment, allowing Morgan barely enough time to look the two Pokemon in the face before shoving him into the ground once more. Morgan remained silent, eating kick after kick without as much as a change in his facial expression.

    "Man, it's boring when they don't fight back." The Barbaracle grabbed Morgan by the scale on his head, lifting him to eye level. "Listen, buddy, you better start screamin' soon, or it's gonna hurt so much worse than how much it's hurtin' now, aight?"

    Once more, the Jangmo-o said nothing. He stared at the ground, refusing to even acknowledge them as he dangled limply in the air. A shard of ice whizzed past, startling the Barbaracle as he dropped Morgan onto the ground.

    "Stop it!" Alan screamed, his voice muffled by tears and more ice shards forming in his mouth. "What did he ever do to you to deserve this?"

    Both the Heatmor and Barbaracle paused, their glaring piercing deep into the Vulpix. He shook his head, working through the debilitating fear gripping him and shooting another attack at the two Pokemon. The Heatmor sidestepped, the ice flying past him and embedding itself into a nearby stall.

    "And who do you think you are?"

    "I…" Alan flinched, the Heatmor's aura almost as crushingly intimidating as what he experienced against Necrozma. "I-I'm his friend! And I won't let you kick him around like that!"

    "Him? Friends with the likes of him?" The fire-type repeated, incredulous. He gestured at his partner, the Barbaracle kicking Morgan once more before joining the Heatmor. They both loomed over Alan, a combination of malice and disdain in their eyes as they stared down at the Vulpix.

    "Look, kids like you shouldn't be associating with those… things…" the Heatmor sneered, though his tone was much softer than before. He almost seemed to be pitying Alan as he knelt, attempting to ruffle his hair. Alan growled defensively, hopping back as he prepared another ice shard.

    "Hmph. Whatever~" the anteater shrugged. "Run off now, child. Let the adults deal with this."

    They turned away, grinning as they focused their attention back on the Jangmo-o. Morgan mouthed something to the Vulpix, though he was much too enraged to understand what Morgan was trying to say.

    "Child?! I'm not a– Well, but– Arrgh!" Alan screamed, ruffling his hair in frustration. His ears burned as rage consumed him, his eyes and tail giving off a faint glow as control slowly began to slip away from him. Another ice shard rang through the air, this time barely grazing the Heatmor's snout.

    "Alright, kid, you're really gettin' on my nerves now. I'm givin' ya one last chance to back off, or I'll–"

    "Or what?" Alan interrupted, the marketgoers around them stopping to stare at the commotion. "You'll beat me instead? You know, maybe you two should fight me instead!"

    "Well–"

    "You scared? Are you only able to beat up people like Morgan who take all of your punches and never fight back?"

    Morgan watched on in horror, frantically gesturing at his partner to stop. Alan ignored him, walking up towards the fire-type and shoving him with his head.

    "I am his partner and his friend! I don't care what he's done or why you're picking on him! But you're his problem, and that makes you my problem! So if you want to pick on him, fight me!" Alan turned, pointing at the crowd of Pokemon that had formed behind him. "And you! You're all shameless, pointing and staring instead of actually helping!"

    The two Pokemon in front of Alan looked at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter.

    "Bahahaha! Get a load of this kid!" Through his teary-eyed laughter, the Barbaracle replied. "Well, we weren't gonna do much to you, but, if you insist~"'

    Before Alan could reply, he felt a sharp wave of pain on his underside as he lurched backward and onto the ground. The crowd gasped, the ones nearest to the Vulpix quickly backing away in surprise.

    "Oi! I don't wanna hear it from none of you! He started it! We're just teachin' him a lesson!"

    Alan wobbled to his feet, clutching his underside as he prepared for a counterattack. However, he struggled to aim properly, seeing doubles as his vision phased in and out due to the pain. He could hear Morgan say… something, though the ringing in his ears blocked out anything aside from his opponents.

    He felt something moist wrap around his hind legs before his head smashed into the ground. His concentration broke as he was hoisted into the air, the Heatmor whipping him around with his tongue before launching him toward his partner, who violently stomped the Vulpix onto the ground below.

    Alan's robe absorbed most of the blow, but he still bore the full brunt of the pain himself. He tried to scream, though only a pathetic whimper escaped under the crushing weight of the foot pinning him down.

    "Still alive, eh? For a kid, you're pretty damn hardy, I'll give you that."

    "For our services, we'll be takin'... How 'bout that little crown of yours?" The Heatmor tugged at Alan's crown, attempting to pull it off. Alan screamed as the fire-type struggled, though his crown remained firmly attached despite the Heatmor's efforts.

    "Hgggrk! It ain't coming off, dude!"

    "Leave it then! Take the robe or something, it looks pretty damn expensive as wel–"

    The Barbaracle was interrupted as Morgan dove in from behind, a strong headbutt knocking him off of his feet and into a nearby market stall. The crowd backed away even further, leaving the center of the square almost entirely to them. The Jangmo-o continued his rage-possessed onslaught, swiping at the Heatmor's tongue as he advanced toward them.

    "Proud of yerselves? Beatin' up a helpless kid an' tryna steal his clothes? Shameless!"

    He lunged, his claws slicing into Heatmor's snout, sending him tumbling into the same stall as the Barbaracle. Morgan growled, taking a defensive stance as he glared at his opponents.

    "Ugh, this blows." The Heatmor said as he helped his partner to his feet. "Let's get outta here, I think I'm done playin' around today."

    "What!? We can't–"

    "He scratched my face 'n everything. I ain't dealin' with him no more. C'mon, let's go."

    The Barbaracle cursed, kicking up the dirt in frustration. He shook his head, before turning to address the crowd of Pokemon surrounding them. "Aight! Fights off! Y'all can go back to doin' whatever now!"

    Morgan remained for a little longer as he watched them leave, though a weak cough from behind pulled him back into reality. He doubled back, checking on Alan's condition as the market slowly returned to its normal buzz.

    "Morgan… I–"

    "Ya crazy fer that." The Jangmo-o sighed, a twinge of disappointment mixed into his pitying tone. "Stay down, I'll get us outta 'ere before you get yer shit kicked in by someone else."

    He grabbed the Vulpix with his mouth, quickly dragging him down the rest of the way through the market by the scruff of his robe. Alan cringed as he was being dragged along, tiny rocks on the ground scraping against his already bruised body. A few more Pokemon stopped to stare at Morgan's antics, though none more decided to give the two any more trouble than they had faced prior.

    "Morgan, let go, please. I can–"

    "Jus'... shuddup…" Morgan responded, mouth still tightly clamped onto Alan's robe.

    Alan struggled, though he lacked the energy to break free. A sense of worthlessness crept up his spine as he replayed the events of the past few minutes over and over in his mind. He blinked away the tears, weakly sighing as he allowed the pain and shame to reverberate through his body over and over again.

    The Vulpix, so thoroughly distracted by the embarrassment, had failed to realize he was no longer being dragged around by his partner. He was propped up against the wall of a neglected alleyway, a stolen berry hastily stuffed into his mouth by the Jangmo-o pacing frantically in front of him.

    Alan spat out the berry, standing up for a moment before quickly toppling back over as his bones ached heavily.

    "Why… Why didn't you fight back?"

    "N' why did ya fight back?" Morgan retorted. "Why'd ya step in? It ain't yer business ter begin with! If ya had just… did what I told ya to, we would've been through and at the guild already!"

    "I couldn't not do anything! You were in trouble! What kind of team would we make I just left you hanging like that!"

    "I was handlin' it jus' fine!"

    Alan threw his paws up into the air. "Just fine? You were being kicked around and harassed! You weren't even fighting back! That's not handling it!"

    "I ain't fighting back cause I wasn't supposed ter! It's always gonna end the same anyway!" Morgan sat down, holding his head scale with his paws. "At least this way, they ain't gettin' any more satisfaction from me fightin' back…"

    "That's… you can't… It's not right! They can't just– mmfgh!"

    Morgan stuffed the half-chewed berry back into Alan's mouth, holding it there and forcing Alan to chew. He waited in silence as Alan glared at him, watching as the bruises on the Vulpix's arms and legs slowly faded away thanks to the Oran's healing.

    "...I know it ain't right, but it's jus' how it's always been." he sighed, wiping the mix of juice and saliva off his claws. "Father prepped me fer all this. He told me never ter waste my time with 'em, no matter how much they waste theirs on me."

    He reached in, ruffling Alan's hair. "But… I'm happy ter have someone standin' up fer me…"


    AlanMorgan_flomf_whiteBG.png

    Morgan and Alan | Art by AzurityArts

    Alan sighed, swallowing the last bits of berry. He looked up at his partner, though the hair Morgan had messed up blocked most of the view.

    "I still lost though, and put you in a bunch of trouble too… I hope you're not too mad…"

    Morgan chuckled, helping the Vulpix in combing his hair back into its natural style. "I ain't mad, kiddo. Yer did good. Besides, yer gave me a damn good reason to hit 'em back, if anythin'. I just… want ya to be more careful next time. I don't get how ya powers work, but yer don't seem nearly as strong when ya ain't glowin'. I'm sure ya get it much better than I do though."

    They both relaxed, allowing the tension to dissipate as Alan checked his body for any further injury. Morgan followed suit, caressing his head scale, checking for any more chips or indents to the pink heart-shaped scale attached to his forehead.

    "Damn it…" Morgan cursed under his breath, picking at his head and scales in frustration

    "What's wrong?"

    "Fuckers cracked my scale! I mean, it was already chipped but, it ain't this bad before…" The dragon grunted, leaning in towards Alan. "Kiddo, can ya check my scale fer me? Jus wanna know if it's fallin' apart or not."

    "Falling apart!?" Alan said, eyes wide in alarmed shock. "It can do that?"

    "Well… it ain't supposed ter. Not fer my folks, at least."

    Alan reached out, feeling the Jangmo-o's for himself. It was quite rough to the touch, similar to sandpaper, while the chipped edges were razor sharp. He felt tiny invisible grooves run down from the chipped edges, imperceptibly small cracks covering a large chunk of Morgan's head scale.

    "It feels… weird. But I guess it's still in one piece, at least."

    Morgan let out a satisfied chirp in response. He turned around, grabbing his tail and fiddling with the everstone embedded within.

    "M-Morgan… there's something I want to ask about… i-if you don't mind me asking…"

    "Hmm?"

    Alan sighed, flicking up his hair as he started directly at Morgan. "Those… bullies… what made them hate you so much?"

    "I– Uh… Well, y'see…" Morgan, taken aback by the question, sputtered. He looked away, matching Alan's sigh with one of his own. "I dunno. We ain't originally from 'round these parts. One of my earliest memories was of us on a boat, actually."

    He looked down, doodling a crude image of a boat onto the ground with his claws. A habit of his, Alan came to notice.

    "We were never really truly welcome…. anywhere... actually. Me and Father 'specially. Always chased out, or heckled, or fightin' fer the tiniest bits of food."

    A few more doodles appeared: one of himself, another beside that of a Kommo-o, and lastly, of a collection of oddly shaped homes.

    "We moved 'round a lot. Father would work 'till there weren't none left, then make us pack up 'n leave. It wasn't 'till we here where we settled fer a while. Then Krux City, 'n the murder… ya know the rest."

    The Vulpix stared back blankly, barely processing what Morgan had said.

    "O-Oh! Sorry fer that, kiddo. Didn't mean ter share so much…"

    "N-No, I–it's fine…" Alan stammered, profusely shaking his head. "That must be so hard… I-I'm sorry for what happened…"

    "Bah, it could've been worse. An' ya saved me, that's a whole blessin' by itself!" Morgan forced a smile, standing up and using his tail to brush away the doodles in the dirt. "C'mon, kiddo. We've still got a guild ter join."

    "R-Right…"

    The two smiled at one another, stretching as they prepared to head off once more. Alan still had many questions about what had happened, though he pushed them far into the back of his mind for the time being. He couldn't act upon them, not when he was still this weak, at least.

    "Urgk!" Alan said, wobbling, the Oran unable to fully heal off the injuries and fatigue he accrued over the beating he sustained.

    "Yer good, kiddo?"

    "I-I'm fine… Just… tired."

    "Figured. Don't worry, we'll take it slow." Morgan gave an accommodating nod. "It ain't far from here. An' we'll take more breaks if that's what ya need."

    "Yeah… a-and thanks… partner."



    With some careful maneuvering, the pair of Pokemon was able to make it the rest of the way without incident. Morgan's ears perked as they rounded the corner. A lone, modestly sized building stood before them, poking out like a sore thumb in the middle of an otherwise barren plot of land.

    Banners and torch poles lined the sides of the only pathway leading into the building, an intricate web of emblems and text being sewn or carved into each. Alan recognized a few of them, having seen them scattered around the castle grounds during his little stint as 'king'.

    Morgan's eyes glittered in awe as they followed the cobbled path down towards the lone building. A stream of drool dripped down his chin as he forced himself to sit down, marveling at the uncharacteristically large doors that towered above both of them. The Vulpix beside him seemed much more nonplussed, however, none too impressed at the shabby clay shack that stood in front of him.

    "That's… it?"

    "Eh? Waddaya mean? That's the guild! It's…" The pink-scaled dragon snapped out of his stupor, concernedly staring at Alan. "Yer don't look too impressed…"

    "I-I mean… I expected… hmmm, more than just some shack in the middle of nowhere I guess…"

    "That would be pretty damn funny, ain't it?" Morgan said, pointing downwards. "But nah, whole things underground, this is jus' the way in for the public."

    Alan looked around, scratching his head. "Doesn't look very grand, does it? Couldn't they have put a little more up here? Look at all this empty space!"

    "Beats me, guildmaster's always had some pretty weird design choices."

    Alan pointed towards a sign beside them. He squinted, though the text was too far away for it to be legible to him.

    "Morgan, you have good eyesight, right?"

    "Yeah? What 'bout it? I can see things fine 'nuff."

    He pointed towards the wooden board. "What's on that sign? I can't really see it from here."

    "W-wuh…" Morgan froze, looking away in embarrassment. "W-Well… y'see… I ain't really the kinda 'mon ter… y'know…"

    "I don't."

    "J-Jus' that… I ain't never really had to… I p-prefer when I can listen instead… uh…"

    Alan sighed, burying his face into his paws. "You… can't read… can you?"

    "No… never learned how'd ta…" The Jangmo-o sighed, ears drooping defeatedly.

    "I-It's fine! Good to know… even." The Vulpix tried to console him, though with little effect. "It's better we found out now instead of during the test itself, right? I'm sure the guildmaster can make some sort of accommodation."

    "Mmmh… doubt it." Morgan huffed, rolling his eyes. "Jus' gotta show 'er I ain't a weakling, that's all that matters ter me."

    Alan moved closer to the sign, his snout almost touching the board before his blessing activated, the letters moving around and morphing into a script he was more familiar with.

    WELCOME TO KRUX GUILD
    Branch: Ashton Town
    Open to Visitors daily: Sunrise – Torch Lighting
    OPEN ON HOLIDAYS

    Local Dungeon Activity: Mild Disturbance, Increasing (Warning Issued)
    Other Local Notices:
    STRONG WIND WARNING
    MILD INCREASE IN FERAL ACTIVITY

    Requests and Inquiries:
    <---------------

    Registered Guild Members:
    -------------->

    Anonymous Requests
    (Drop request form and payment into box below)

    Besides the contents of the signboard, a litany of advertisements and other pieces of text were pasted around the board itself. Alan felt a sharp pain in his head as all the text moved at once, stumbling backward as he struggled to deactivate Necrozma's blessing.

    "Argh!"

    "K-Kiddo! What's wrong?" Morgan scrambled beside Alan, preventing the Vulpix from flipping over and hitting his head on the ground. "Yer eyes! They're doin' that weird glow again!"

    "I-It's nothing… U-Ugh… J-Just too much of it…"

    Morgan slowly lowered Alan, allowing him to recover on his own as the glow in his eyes faded.

    "I-I see…" Alan whispered, rubbing his eyes as his vision recovered. "It was just… too much text to translate at once. I'll be more careful next time."

    "But… yer eyes…"

    "Just another blessing Necrozma gave me." Alan answered, rubbing away the glow from his eyes. "Little things, like the ability to understand you or the ability to read… I-I guess. To help me get by, or something along those lines."

    "Seems pretty handy, at least."

    Alan shook his head, a tired groan escaping him. "Yeah, until it goes crazy like that. Here's hoping that something like that doesn't happen during the exam…"

    "So, didya catch what the sign said though? Before yer eyes went all wacko like that."

    "R-Right!" Alan perked up, pointing towards what seemed like a door attached to a cave off to his left. "Apparently, this door is for registered members only. The public entrance is over there, I think…"

    Morgan shrugged, letting out a chuckle. "Heh, so much fer grand entrances... But yeah, that tracks with how the Guildmaster runs things 'round here, I s'pose."

    Though the entrance itself lacked the glamour and prestige the Vulpix had expected, inside the guild itself offered something else he preferred much more. A cozy warmth enveloped the two Pokemon, an almost homey atmosphere soothing the two as they wandered down the cave and into the main hall of the guild itself.

    The cave quickly opened up into a modestly sized hall, large enough to accommodate most Pokemon, though not needlessly grand unlike the castle he had been trapped in for the past month. A receptionist's stand stood before them, the Audino manning the desk in heated argument with a Blissey off to the side.

    "...look, all I'm saying is that you shouldn't say that out loud! Hell, don't even think about it if you can afford it!"

    "Oh c'mon, is it really that much of a sin to mention that it's a 'slow day' today?"

    "Yes!" The Blissey threw up their arms, almost knocking the egg in their pouch over. "It's like, rule number one of working front desk! The moment you mention how slow it's been you get instantly stacked! It's like a curse, a jinx, or–"

    Both Pokemon shifted, turning their attention to the Vulpix and Jangmo-o patiently awaiting their turn.

    "See? What did I say, Daph?! What. Did. I. Fucking. Say?!"

    "Yeah, yeah. I'll keep it in mind next time." The Audino groaned, rolling his eyes as he moved his papers around to face Alan and Morgan.

    "Welp, it's your problem now. I'm off, some dumbass probably got their head stuck in between one of the beds while I was gone."

    "Ugh, alright." The Audino looked away for a moment, masking his annoyance with a calm smile. "I'm Daphnis, this Guild Branch's receptionist. How may I help you two today?"

    The Audino's sudden switch in demeanor unnerved Alan, though he did well to hide it as well. "We're here to meet the Guildmaster. S-She isn't busy right now, is she?"

    "Mmmh, I presume you don't have an appointment with her?" Daphnis asked, pulling up a calendar from the clutter on his desk. "Well, she's probably not busy anyway…"

    "Right, so you want to head all the way down that corridor, then turn left… and down the stairs… right, left… uh… Bah, I'll just lead the way. Beats having to sit here doing nothing, I guess…"

    Daphnis slid from his stand, beckoning Alan and Morgan to follow him down the hallway. He kept his attitude warm, smiling and waving at other the guildmembers passing by.

    Alan felt the stares of the Pokemon around them once again, not of disgust and malice but simply of pure curiosity instead. He tried waving back to a few Pokemon passing by as well, though they all quickly turned away in embarrassment.

    "If you don't mind me asking, what business do you have with the Guild Branch Leader anyway?"

    "We're here to apply as members!"

    "You what?!" The Audino gasped, letting go of the door he held for the two in shock. The door swung into a Shelmet, knocking them away and into their Roselia partner standing a few meters away.

    "A-Ah! Sorry!" Daphnis awkwardly waddled over to briefly check on the Shelmet's condition before turning back towards Alan and Morgan, a grim frown plastered across his face. "Don't you know? Rarely anyone ever takes the entrance exam here for a reason!"

    "Oh naw, we're aware." Morgan let out a quiet chuckle, not making any attempt to hide his pained expression. "Not like we have a choice in the matter. We're in too far ter run away now."

    "In too deep, huh…" Daphnis repeated, pausing for a moment before shrugging his suspicions off. "Eh, not my problem. Seems way above my pay grade anyway. C'mon, the Guild Leader's is right ahead."

    As they neared their destination, their surroundings slowly began to change. The once bustling halls of the guild base were instead replaced by a desolate silence. The walls were cluttered with a multitude of accolades and newspaper snippets, painted portraits of presumably important guild members scattered about the litany of awards. A tiny portrait of a familiar Serperior caught the Vulpix's eye, Alan cringing a little under Edward's scornful gaze. He heard a growl beside him, Morgan also having caught sight of the king's portrait.

    "You too, huh. You're safe here, trust me." The Audino consoled, giving the painting a nasty glare himself. "Guild Leader's about as big of a fan of the King as you are, Jangmo-o. If the portrait wasn't required by law to be hung, she'd have torn it down and burned it years ago."

    Alan shuddered, Edward's warning fresh in his mind. "D-Did you have problems with him too, Daphnis?"

    "Oh yeah, quite a bit." The Audino seemed almost prideful at that fact. "Everyone at this guild does, probably. When you rule for that long, it's pretty hard not to piss everyone off at least a little."

    "R-Right…"

    "Bah, you don't need to worry about it, kid. Guild Leader's more of a leader to us than that slimy old bastard will ever be. Speaking of which…"

    Daphnis gestured for the two to stop as he turned towards the door in front of him. An ornately decorated placard stood in the middle of the door, Alan wincing a little as the letters once again began translating themselves for him.

    GUILD LEADER'S OFFICE
    ZOROARK IGETIA PUNNAM

    OFFICE TIMES: GO AWAY

    "Guild Leader? It's Daphnis!" The Audino knocked on the door, leaning in to listen for a response from the Zoroark.

    "Yes! I've taken care of those files!"

    "N-No! It's not a delivery! You've got visitors!"

    "I know you're not busy! Guild Leader!"

    "Hey! I'm not dealing with your antics today! I'm going back! This is your problem now!"

    Daphnis stormed off, though not before giving an apologetic nod to Alan and Morgan. As the door to the office creaked open, he turned back around one more time.

    "And don't you dare send them back to me!"

    A groan rang out from the office while another deeper, even more tired voice replied through the barely opened door.

    "The Guild Leader will see you soon… Thanks… for your patience…"

    The two stared at one another, exchanging confused shrugs as they plopped onto some chairs placed in front of the office. Alan looked around, ensuring they were alone before leaning over towards his partner.

    "Hey so… We're not telling her about me, right?" he whispered, his voice wavering as he checked his surroundings once more. "I-I don't think she's going to… take too kindly to that…"

    "Mmmh… Nah. Yer ain't him, and he ain't you. B'sides, why'd I tell her in the first place? It's not like he's gonna help us during the exam itself or somethin'."

    "Y-Yeah… thanks… I'll tell you more about it soon, maybe when we're a somewhere a little more… private."

    Footsteps rang from his left, Alan almost spooking himself off his chair as the shadow of two large Pokemon loomed over. Morgan glanced over, though he quickly turned away and braced himself for potentially another altercation.

    "Oh, hey kiddies!" The larger of the two Pokemon, a Noivern, said. He adjusted the aviator hat on his head, both ears unfurling out from their folded positions underneath the bat's leather cap. "Seeing the Guild Leader too? I'm sure its real important matters, then!"

    "Y-Yeah… you could say that… I-I guess."

    "Scaring the little ones again, Herm? Keep this up and we'll be sent for a recon mission in the middle of the Aureolin!" The similarly dressed Flygon behind him piped up, jokingly tugging at the loose straps on his partner's cap. He stepped in front of the Noivern, extending out an arm towards Alan. "Flygon Mercurius of Team Frontiers, B+ Rank. Pleasure to meet you."

    "Too formal! Too professional!" The Noivern stepped towards Morgan's side, surrounding them. "Name's Herminius, also of Team Frontiers. Sorry about that, my partner's way too uptight for his own good. Let's keep it casual, yeah?"

    Mercurius retracted his arm, using it to give the Noivern a playful noogie instead. Herminius pulled away, holding the ground type at arms length and giving the Vulpix and Jangmo-o in front of them a little wink.

    "S-So! I guess you're also here to see the Guildmaster too?"

    "Mmhm!" The Noivern affirmed. "Though, be sure to call her Guild Leader instead. She hates it when folks call her Guildmaster. Something along the lines of seeing herself as equal to her peers or whatever, didn't listen to that whole lecture when she gave it to me all those years back."

    The Flygon chuckled. "Yeah, checks out. Anyways, we're just back from another scouting mission, gotta report our findings to claim our pay and stuff, y'know."

    Morgan's eyes lightly sparkled in admiration. "Scouting mission?"

    "Just to the local dungeon," Herminius rolled his eyes. "But yes, 'scouting mission'..."

    "Oh c'mon Herm, this is important work!" He turned towards the two aspirant guildlings, rubbing his antennae in frustration. "Sorry 'bout that. He hates it when he gets dirty on missions, and this dungeon was quite wet and muddy. Especially now that it's begun to act up in real strange ways…"

    The bat-dragon scratched at a dirty patch on his neck, peppering the floor beneath him with specks of dried mud and grime all over. "It's targeting me, I swear! Earthquakes and mudslides and shit! And look at you, you're perfectly clean!"

    "Herm! You're making a mess!" Mercurius hissed, grabbing Herminius's arm. "Quit being such a crybaby. You didn't see me making a fuss when we were doing jungle recon!"

    "Hmph…"

    "...anyways, we were called in to scout and risk assess the local dungeon here. Check for dungeon collapse, feral population, potential expansions. Y'know, standard stuff."

    "R-Right… standard…" Alan repeated, attempting to seem engaged regardless of how much the information went over his head. "What's the result then? Of your scouting, I-I mean…"

    "Results? I dunno, honestly. Everything seemed fine to me, except it got way muddier, but that's much more of a concern for Herm than it is more me~" Mercurius teased. "Anyways! What about you two younguns? To ask to meet with the Guild Leader directly, I'm sure it's something pretty damn important."

    "We're takin' the entrance exam." Morgan answered, confidence returning to his tone.

    "Entrance exam?! Here?!" both members of Team Frontiers exclaimed simultaneously. The same reaction as Daphnis, and presumably any other member present in this branch had they been told. The Flygon signed, cleaning the goggle-like membrane protecting his eyes with a piece of cloth. "Look, kiddos. I'm not for telling folks how to do things but… are you sure about this?"

    "Y-Yeah! We could like, fly you two over to another guild branch or something instead?"

    Morgan sighed, his newly found confidence evaporating on the spot as he sat back down. "Nah… we kinda need ter do it here. Fer… many reasons…"

    "Welp, nothing we can do if that's the case…" The bat-dragon shrugged, motioning something towards his partner. "I'm sure you know all about the entrance exam here then. Good luck to you two, and may the Guild Leader be merciful on your poor souls~"

    The two Pokemon turned, waving as they began making their way back down the hallway.

    "W-Wait! Don't you need to report to her as well?" The Vulpix piped up, stumbling over himself in a panic, though successful in momentarily stopping the Noivern and Flygon in their tracks.

    "Pfft, ain't no way. With her taking this long, she's almost guaranteed to be pissed over something, and I'm not willing to wait around see that for myself." The Flygon said, back turned toward the two examinees. "We'll be around cheering for ya! As for whether you pass or not, that's all up to Jirachi at this point. See y'all around, hopefully…"

    The Vulpix and Jangmo-o slumped back, despairing as they exchanged nervous glances. Alan slunk into his robe, letting out a long, dragging sigh as he re-evaluated his situation.

    "Do you think it was a mistake to come here…?" he asked Morgan, half of his face still hidden in his robe. "E-Everyone we met seemed so… against the exam. I-It's not too late to fly elsewhere with that Flygon and Noivern… right?"

    Morgan frowned, his troubled expression instilling an even deeper sense of despair into the Vulpix's mind. The dragon-type shook his head, quietly humming to himself as he thought over a response.

    "Mmmmm… I mean, there's no way it could be that bad…" Morgan scratched his chin, ruminating on the words of warning the Audino, Flygon, and Noivern had given them. "If I were ter say… it don't seem like nothin' more than an inside joke ter me. To scare off the weaker ones or somethin'. B'sides, if it really is that hard, yer can think of it as our first test as a team. We ain't achievin' anything if we can't conquer this at the very least."

    "R-right…" Alan's confidence remained at an all-time low. He anxiously fiddled with the ends of his robe, trying to take his mind off the prospect of failing the exam. Though in truth, it was less the failure that he feared and more of Necrozma's reaction to such failure. He shuddered under the thought of what the god could do to him, or worse, to Edward in retribution.

    "W-We'll cross that bridge when we come to that… I-I guess…"

    It wasn't much longer before the Guild Leader's door creaked open. Alan and Morgan both hastily sprung to attention, watching as a large horned figure stepped forth, his face obscured by the light pouring out from the office behind them. Alan failed to recognize the figure; his four-legged stance and demeanor were unlike that he observed of the Zoroark the previous night.

    "Thanks for waiting, the Guild Leader is ready to-" he froze mid-sentence, leaning in to more closely observe the Vupix and Jangmo-o standing before them.

    Alan sheepishly perked up, shuddering uncontrollably under the pressure of the Pokemon staring him down. "I-Is there a problem, s-sir?"

    "Wait a moment… aren't you–" he whipped his head around, giving Alan a better view of the rest of his body. A Samurott, horns and shell armor uncharacteristically dark compared to the ones he could recall from his memory. "Hey! Igetia! Aren't they–"

    A much quieter voice echoed from within the room, though it was too muffled for Alan to understand. He turned to Morgan, a similarly confused look plastered across his face.

    "Sure? If you say so… Come in then, you two." the Samurott extended an arm, welcoming the two Pokemon in. His stern glare melted into something more amicable as he was able to see Alan and Morgan more clearly.

    The office was similarly cluttered to the walls outside, stacks upon stacks of paperwork haphazardly placed around the room, half-read books scattered about in between. The walls held an assortment of portraits, plaques, and weapons, as well as a small collection of Pokemon bones– hunting trophies, Alan presumed.

    Off to his left was a mound of quilts and blankets, the Guild Leader's bed, unmade and caked in red and white hair. The entire room was a messy, claustrophobic mess, quite unbecoming for someone of the Zoroark's stature.

    Alan froze as his eyes wandered to the center of the room. The Zoroark Guild Leader perched atop her wooden desk, its surface mired in dents and scratches. One leg wobbled dangerously, threatening to collapse under the combined weight of her and the ever-growing pile of paperwork stacked around her.

    Igetia%20RR.png

    Zoroark Igetia | Art by Kitsu_19

    "Hmm? What do we have here?"

    "G-Guild Leader! Thank you for yer time!" Morgan stammered, legs tensed and prepared to run at the slightest provocation. "Sorry fer intrudin', m-ma'am…"

    "Mm… Would've been better if you said it before waking me up from my nap, but oh well." The Zoroark flicked her hair off to one side, letting out an extended sigh as she reached over and rummaged through a pile of papers behind her.

    "Guild Leader! M-Miss! We're here to–"

    "Uh uh~ I'm not done talking yet~" she interrupted, procuring a piece of paper for the two Pokemon to see. Her other arm reached over, gripping the spear-like weapon leaning beside her. "You know what this is?"

    Alan squinted, his head beginning to spin as the text began translating itself once more, though he was only able to catch glimpses of it before the white-furred Zoroark pulled it back towards herself.

    "Uhm… sorry… I-I didn't–"

    "This is an incident report, from the market just down the street, dated for today. It lists a white Vulpix and a pink-scaled Jangmo-o as the main perpetrators: harassing innocent passersby, disturbing the peace, being a general nuisance… oh how terrible~"

    "N-No… B-but…"

    "Dex!"

    The door behind them slammed shut, the Samurott blocking their only escape. They were trapped, fully at the mercy of the Guild Leader standing before them. Alan trembled beneath the combined pressure of the two Guild Pokemon, subconsciously shifting himself behind a similarly panicked Morgan.

    "I haven't even approved the arrest warrants yet! To think you've simply turned yourselves in… It's a miracle~"

    Igetia's grievous smile sent shivers down the Vulpix's spine as he failed to form any sort of response. Tears welled up in his eyes once more, though he barely managed to hold himself from breaking down into a sobbing mess in front of the Guild Leader.

    "I-I… It's w-wrong… we didn't–"

    "Yes, that was us." Morgan coldly stated, eliciting a fearful gasp from the Vulpix beside him. The Jangmo-o tensed up, barely enough to keep his body from visibly shaking as he stared into the Zoroark's cold, unrelenting eyes. "If yer need ter arrest us, then I get it. But we ain't here ter turn ourselves in, so we ain't goin' down without a fight!"

    Morgan shifted, lowering himself in preparation for a battle. His scales flared, an attempt to make himself seem larger, though it had little effect on the Zoroark towering over him. Alan froze, the shock and fear locking him in place with a horrified look on his face.

    "Alright, that's enough."

    Igetia flipped her weapon over, smashing the wooden end into the ground. She released a dark wave of energy from the point of impact, sweeping both Alan and Morgan off their feet.

    Alan was the first to snap out of his daze, rolling over and clutching the newly formed bruise on his legs. "Augh… what was–"

    "A modified Brutal Swing. You like it? Catches everyone off guard the first time they see it, and the second, and third if you're a real slow learner~"

    The Zoroark hopped off from her perch atop the table, landing in between Alan and Morgan. The pressure from her presence alone overpowered the two smaller Pokemon, freezing them in place as Igetia crouched down, closely inspecting the two of them with light taps from her weapon.

    "Mmmm… I see…" She turned, eyes locking with Alan. The same unnerving smile crept up her cheeks, sending another round of shivers down the fox's spine.

    "Vulpix. We've met before, haven't we?"

    "M-Me…?" Alan whimpered. He wanted to hide under his robe, to lessen the pressure placed upon him, though a voice from within him screamed for him to push on. "Yes… l-last night… I t-think. P-Please don't arrest us!"

    "No, I don't plan on arresting anyone today." She reassured, prompting relieved sighs from both the Vulpix and Jangmo-o. "You two coming here by yourselves would've made it too easy for my liking, if anything~"

    "Now tell me, why did you come to meet me?" Igetia hopped back across her desk and into her seat, her tone switching into one more suited to her role as Guild Leader. "Speak. I don't have all the time in the day, I'll have you know."

    "We… err…" Morgan started, though he faltered midway through, passing along to Alan an uneasy glance. Alan picked up on his partner's gesturing, continuing the sentence on his behalf. "W-We want to join your guild!"

    "Hm?" Igetia gave a half-amused smirk, twirling some of her white-and-red hair as she processed the Vulpix's words. "Oh, you're serious about this… Look, I never set age minimums to join because I simply do not care, but even I can see you're much too young for this."

    "I'm not– ugh! Why does everyone here think that?"

    The Zoroark rolled her eyes, pointing the sharp end of her weapon toward Alan. The Vulpix flinched, though he remained still enough for Igetia to tap the blade on a couple parts of his body.

    "Three tails… underdeveloped muscles… slick fur… come on, your body is practically telling everyone, 'Wow look at me! I'm a literal toddler!'. You're not fooling anyone, kid."

    Alan's frustrated expression melted into one of embarrassment instead. "U-Uh… Well, it's–"

    "Complicated? They all say that." Igetia interrupted, a snicker hidden under her commanding tone. "Doesn't change the fact that they're lying though."

    "Well, he ain't!" Morgan growled. His claws dug into the carpet beneath him, prepared to lunge at the Guild Leader at any moment.

    "Don't defend him, Pinky."

    Alan opened his mouth, ready to defend his and Morgan's honor. A sinking premonition came over him, however, keeping the Vulpix from speaking up. Edward's warning rang once more in his mind.

    Lie, deceive them if need be. Don't let them catch on.

    Alan looked away and back towards Morgan, his pleading eyes finally making the Jangmo-o back down. Igetia didn't seem to care, busy inspecting the golden rings around her claws instead.

    "No response? Good! I'm getting bored anyway. Look, the only thing we respect under this roof is skill. We've had kids apply for a multitude of reasons." She looked up, nudging her glasses slightly closer to her face. "Lemme guess… mmmh… Ooh! Dead parents? Eh… doesn't seem right. Crushing debt? On the run?"

    Morgan gritted his teeth, barely able to maintain his composure over the Zoroark's comments. Alan shifted around, incredibly uncomfortable yet still unable to speak for himself.

    "C'mon! Tell me I got at least one of those right?"

    The Zoroark threw her arms up before casting her cloak aside, revealing countless scars concealed underneath. The once-red blisters lining her arms and stomach now bore a faded umber coloration, deflated and sagging from age and overwork. Golden tattoos adorned her shoulders, intricately weaving down to her stomach before tapering off around her thighs. A clear mark of status, yet reminiscent of primitive, tribalistic heritage Alan recalled from the scattered fragments of his past life Necrozma had graced him with.

    "Whatever, you're boring me. The bottom line is, I only care about your potential. You pass my tests, and you're in, that's it." she reached over, pulling a dusty portrait off the wall to inspect. Alan was unable to identify the Pokemon in the picture, their faces and bodies obscured by the buildup of grime atop the frame. "It's been a while since anyone dared to apply as a beginner team here. Fortunately for you, I'm in a good mood today, so I'll be fair~"

    Igetia's malicious smile deepened, so much as for the Samurott guarding the door to begin shifting uncomfortably as well.

    "But that's still pretty boring. I have a reputation to uphold, you know~" she continued, ignoring the Vulpix and Jangmo-o's pleading faces. "Let's up the stakes a bit, shall we? Pass, and I'll fast-track you two to a higher rank. Fail, and I'll send out these arrest warrants. Screw it, I'll add some of my own funds to the bounty as well~"

    "U-Uh… but Guild Leader–"

    "No buts!" she interrupted again. "For as long as you are in this building you are in my domain. You are under my command, guildling or not. So you're taking this damn test whether you like it or not! Dex, take them to the training grounds, I've got a test to prepare."

    The other three Pokemon stared in shocked silence, watching as the Zoroark barreled through the exit. "And don't you think about running away, that counts as an automatic fail by the waaaaay~" she shouted, her voice echoing down the hallway as she raced off.

    The three stared at one another, each processing the Zoroark's behavior. They watched as the office door rocked back and forth, able to relax slightly as the overwhelming pressure around them was lifted.

    "Damn… the Chesto mix must've been extra strong today…" mumbled the Samurott. He tugged on the Vulpix's robe and the Jangmo-o's scales, breaking them both from their stupor as he gestured for them to follow him.

    "S-So… your name is Dex, right?" Alan asked, dusting off some of Igetia's fur that his robe had picked up during her inspection. "Forgive me for asking, but is she always like this?"

    "No, though I wouldn't call her usual grumpy self any better…" Dex shrugged, picking in between the crevices on his bladed arms. "As the Vice Guild Leader, I do sincerely apologize for her current and future behavior."

    "That means what y'all said about arrestin' us and stuff if we fail ain't gonna happen, right?"

    "She's a mystery, even to me. Her sense of humor is… variable, frankly speaking. It's difficult to truly say whether she truly means it or not. It's best if you pass. I'd rather not be seen in public having to arrest a child today."

    The Samurott beckoned the two examinees to follow, leading them down a different hallway from the one Daphnis had led them down. It was much less well maintained, the wooden floorboards caked in dried mud while cracks streaked across the walls and supporting beams that held the ceiling of dirt above them. Alan winced, a dull throb of worry originating from the sight of the hallway they headed down.

    Dex, sensing the uneasiness in the Vulpix's demeanor, continued. "Do not fear, this hallway is perfectly safe. This was originally the member's only entrance, though most nowadays simply enter through the public entrance anyway…"

    "I-I see… Where are you taking us anyway, s-sir…"

    "No need for the formalities… uh… Vulpix. Call me Dex, or Dexiochiras if you must."

    "W-Will do… Dex." Alan said, ducking under a trapdoor the water-type held open. "I'm Alan, b-by the way. And his name is Morgan."

    "Named too? At such a young age?" Dex raised an eyebrow. "Quite the anomaly you are, Alan. And you too, Morgan. You don't strike me as a 'mon that could receive such a name."

    He shifted back to his bipedal stance, using his arms as a makeshift guide stick, scraping them against the walls of some unlit stairs he led the pair through.

    "Well, it's err… it's hard ter explain. All I can really say is that it's real– an' pretty official too. I ain't simply be stealin' names from others if that's what yer thinkin'."

    Dex replied with a simple grunt, pushing through one last door as they approached their destination. Sunlight flooded in from the other side, temporarily blinding the two unsuspecting Pokemon as they stumbled out onto the open field that surrounded them.

    "Ugh… so bright–" Alan mumbled. It was around midday by the time they resurfaced; the air around them was much warmer and stuffier than when they had entered the guild. Dex led the two to a small dugout hidden behind the guild's main entrance, escaping the blaring heat of the sun beating down upon them and allowing them to settle down once more.

    "Hm, she's taking her time with this one, I see…" said the Samurott, his serious expression mellowing out as he turned toward Alan and Morgan. "Quite lucky for the two of you then, I suppose."

    "R-Right…"

    Alan peered through the opening of the dugout, looking down upon the relatively barren field extending out from his location. He assumed it was a training ground of sorts, with small wooden targets and dummies scattered about alongside a small assortment of wooden and metal structures jutting out of the bare, dusty ground. He spotted Mercurius and Herminius off to the side, locked in an intense sparring match whilst a small crowd of Pokemon cheered them on. A few more Pokemon were spread about, training by themselves, with their partners, or simply basking in the warmth of the sun.

    "So, the test… d-do you think w-we can pass?"

    "Hmmmm… I can't say anything for certain." Dex hummed. He crossed his arms, leaning against a support beam as he let out a deep sigh. "The contents and difficulty change with every test the Guild Leader administers. She's the only one left in this region of the Kingdom that doesn't standardize her exams, which is why it is so infamously difficult. Not necessarily because of it's difficulty or anything, simply that no one is able to truly prepare for it."

    "Uhh… sure… preparations…"

    Alan settled back down, sidling up against Morgan on the opposite side of the hole to Dex. Though relatively cooler, some of the warmth of the midday sun still managed to creep in, sending both him and Morgan into a sleepy lull as their heads drooped onto one another. Alan smiled, snuggling into the warmth of the Jangmo-o's underside, loosely aware that the dragon was doing the same with his fluff as well.

    "Awww, look at 'em~" A voice pierced through into Alan's ear. He barely managed a wiggle of his tail, much too lethargic for any further acknowledgement of the outside world. "That's enough of that. Wake up, sleepyheads! You've got an exam to take!"

    As suddenly as the realization hit Alan, he was ripped away from his warmth. The Zoroark held both him and Morgan by the scruffs of their necks, another mischievous grin creeping up her face. She dropped them unceremoniously, followed moments later by two hastily bound stacks of paper thrown atop their dazed bodies.

    "Ahem!" Igetia cleared her throat, pulling out one last piece of paper from her mane, a script of sorts for her to follow. "You are now under exam conditions. Do not leave the examination area under any circumstance, unless permitted by an Invigilator to do so."

    "You are not allowed to have any unauthorized items in the examination area. If you have any unauthorized items, you must hand them in now. Failure to do so will constitute as an automatic disqualification."

    "You are here to take the Krux Guild, Ashton Branch entrance examination. Section One - General Knowledge. I, Zoroark Igetia Punnam, and my partner, Samurott Dexiochiras Daelin, shall be your invigilators for this exam."

    "Due to the special nature of the… examinees… special considerations have been made in regards to the answering of the questions within this examination." Igetia peeked up from her script, eyeing the Vulpix and Jangmo-o in front of her, sat straight and listening intently to her every word. "You may discuss amongst yourselves to form a singular collective answer. One candidate shall answer verbally to an invigilator on behalf of all other candidates. State the question number clearly when answering."

    "You have sixty minutes to complete this exam."

    Igetia threw her script aside, suppressing a chuckle as she pulled a wooden chair through the opening of the dugout. She sat with one leg crossed, pushing up her glasses as she stared deep into the two candidates' eyes.

    "You may begin, and try not to embarrass yourselves~"
     
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