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TEEN: Once a Thief

Chapter 19 - City
  • OaT_Ch19_Final.png



    Als König Klaus Engelstadt gründete, tat er dies in den Ruinen einer Menschenstadt, die so weit verstreut war, dass sie nach dem „Glühenden Blitz“ zu einem unregierbaren Labyrinth geworden war, ähnlich wie andere, die nach der Zeit verloren gegangen sind. Daher hielten es der Erbauer und die Göttin Wirklichkeit für angebracht, eine Zitadelle zu errichten, die eine aufstrebende Zivilisation vor den Gefahren einer unruhigen Welt schützen sollte.

    Sie taten dies am Dämmerungsturm und den umliegenden Türmen, die zu Zeiten der Menschheit einst die Zentrale der Vector AG gewesen waren. Ihre dominanten Höhen gefielen unserer Göttin und überblickten jeden, der sich der Erbauer-Stadt näherte, während ihre Lage entlang einer Flussbiegung es leicht machte, sie in eine Bastion zu verwandeln. Deshalb dient ihre Zitadelle bis heute als Verwaltungsbezirk der Hauptstadt unseres Landes. Ein Thron, der sich bis zu den Wolken erstreckt, für die Göttin unseres Landes und für ihre Könige und Helden.

    Einen Großteil seiner frühen Regierungszeit verbrachte Klaus damit, den Raum zwischen den zehn Türmen, die jenseits seiner Bastion lagen, zurückzuerobern. Hoch aufragende Monolithen, in denen Maschinen untergebracht waren, die die Lichter und verschiedene von Menschen hinterlassene Handarbeiten betrieben, indem sie die Kraft eines fernen Strahlens nutzten. Er war der Architekt der großen Stadtmauern, indem er die zehn Türme in Wehrtürme verwandelte und sie mit Mauern verband, die mit Hilfe menschlicher Werke errichtet wurden, die den Glühenden Blitz überlebten. Deshalb ist er als „Klaus der Erbauer“ in unserer Geschichte verewigt.

    Was auch immer es König Klaus und der Göttin ermöglichte, solche Wunder zu wirken, ging mit Zeit verloren, nachdem Wunsch und Wirklichkeit und die Länder, die sie als Gönner verehren, erstmals Krieg gegeneinander führten. Seitdem oblag es seinen Nachfolgern, zu versuchen, seine Werke aufrechtzuerhalten. Aus diesem Grund beginnt jeder König und jede Königin der Wahrheit ihre Herrschaft damit, im Namen ihrer Schutzgöttin einen Eid zu schwören, dies nach besten Kräften zu tun.

    Auch angesichts des Laufs der Zeit und seiner Verwüstungen. Auch angesichts des Wissens, das in Vergessenheit geraten ist. Sogar angesichts derer, die es mit ihrer Gier und ihren bösen Absichten mit böswilligem Wunsch und ruinösem Donner verwüsten würden.

    - Auszug aus »Die Wahrheiter Chroniken – Eine kurze Geschichte der frühen Jahre unseres Königreichs«




    Gottverdammt, look at all of that!”

    Lyle stared at his surroundings with his mouth open as Kate stole the words right out of his mind. The moment that Boudewijn’s raft left the tunnel, it exited out into a collection of ancient-looking structures—human ruins, judging from their shape and construction—that loomed over a sea of wood and half-timbered buildings along both sides of the river that surrounded them. The newer construction looked about par for the course for a Varhyder settlement, punctuated every so often by an occasional structure styled after a Pokémon’s head.

    Why, it reminded him a bit of the more central portions of Moonturn Square. Except many of the buildings around them were visibly taller, especially the ruins. Every now and then, shooting out over the thatched and tiled rooftops, there would be some decaying concrete and steel skeleton that dwarfed them rising high above.

    All around, the mass of structures seemed to blur into each other, which made it hard at times to tell where the city began and where it ended. The watchtowers and city walls helped bring back some sense of scale, as the whole mass was hemmed in by the same ramparts behind them which carried on in a grand ring. Though even that proved a bit hard to tell sometimes with the way some sections had buildings creeping up their inner surfaces.

    He was beginning to see why Dalton seemed nostalgic for this place.

    Blauflamme, I knew Newangle City was big, but I didn’t realize that it was this big,” Lyle murmured.

    “Well, being the capital of the kingdom helps,” Dalton remarked. “So’s having a history of stability to turn to. Aside from the likes of internal uprisings, Newangle City has only ever fallen to outside invaders once in its history, and that was hundreds of years ago before it was given its present name.”

    Lyle blinked and shot an askew glance at the Heliolisk. The capital once had a different name? Maybe that was where the ‘New’ it came from. He’d certainly believe it from all the human ruins scattered about.

    Why, even the river itself carried marks of ancient history. Up ahead, there were a pair of corroded towers with struts that looked almost triangular, and between them, a broad ramp that slumped into the river where Pokémon were gathered bathing and washing fabric. Further up, there was a bridge with houses built on top of its span. Curiously enough, the pillars seemed to be mismatched. There were four spread an even distance that seemed to be built in a human style out of concrete, while the rest were nestled between them and made of stone in a style Lyle was more used to. Two of the gaps in the arches were larger than normal: one off-center to the left, and another similarly off-center to the right. Could it have been that back in human times, this bridge somehow stood on just the four older pillars?

    He heard the hustle and bustle of voices and carts coming from the inhabited bridge as they passed, which sounded almost like his hometown on market day. Was this from seasonal preparations from the Autumn Festival, or was this bridge just always crowded enough to sound like this? After Boudewijn’s raft passed the bridge and its structures, the human ruins stretched up higher and higher into the sky from a place just off at a bend in the river downstream—enough to make Moonturn Square’s Great Spire look like a little road marker! On the right, the ruins looked almost skeletal in nature, with vegetation in autumn colors spilling out from holes or gutted floors. Some were visibly listing, others had gouges in them or were visibly shorn from taller heights, with a curious patch that was largely empty aside from a few ancient-looking chunks that laid strewn about among more modern construction. The human ruins on the left bank were taller and if nothing else, seemed to stand straighter than the ones on the right. Curiously, a number of them were covered in white and gray tiles or cladding of some sort, some stopping abruptly about halfway up.

    Lyle wasn’t sure what the story was behind that. But even the dilapidated towers looked awe-inspiring. From the side, Lyle saw Irune was still staring ahead in blank wonder, as her eyes kept darting up towards the tops of the ancient structures.

    “Are… those towers the ones we saw back from the Kyurem shrine?” Irune asked. “Will we be able to go on top of one of them?”

    “Gods, no,” Dalton said. “There’s a reason why the vast majority of city life here goes on within a Southern Exeggutor’s height from street level.”

    So, about three or four stories up, or at least if what he’d heard of Exeggutor that evolved in the far southern Provinzen beyond the coastal range were right. He vaguely remembered occasionally encountering Pokémon from such Provinzen during the likes of market days. Most of them seemed normal enough, but there’d occasionally be the likes of a snowy Vulpix or a black-furred Rattata, with some Pokémon who’d merely evolved while passing through the area having gotten one of those strange forms. Nobody really knew what happened to those parts of Varhyde to make them that way, only that what few records from those lands predating the Great Flash had no mention of such Pokémon dwelling there.

    Still, he was a bit surprised that that was Dalton’s reflexive frame of reference. He must’ve spent time down south, or else in a place where their Pokémon commonly passed through.

    “Besides, even if it wasn’t a chore to climb them, there’s nothing for us up there,” the Heliolisk continued. “The towers that have more than the occasional Flying-type’s roost in them are taken up by quarters owned by the crown, or worse still, army installations meant to fend off enemies from the air.”

    Irune had a brief flash of disappointment cross her face and looked down with a quiet pout. Had her father been a ‘mon that could fly or something? For one without wings of her own, she sure had a thing for heights.

    A sharp crash rang out from the opposite bank of the river, loud enough to make Lyle and his companions flinch. The Quilava turned, where at the bottom of one of the wood-framed buildings, he saw a party of Pokémon in green armor headed by Rhyperior massed at a doorway. He looked on with his teammates, staring as the figures drug a flailing Combusken out, with another following after tugging at the Rhyperior—a female from the looks of it—along with a trio of Torchic. The Quilava was too far away to clearly make out their words but his vision was just clear enough to see the female Combusken pleading with the figures as her children began to cry.

    The mood aboard the raft quickly took a dark turn as the figures grew blurry from the distance and the cries began to fade as they drifted off. Lyle glanced over at his teammates, where he spotted Dalton looking back in the direction of the guards, before turning away with a low mutter.

    “Gods, what a thing to see right when coming back to the city.”

    Lyle wasn’t fully sure what had happened, but his best guess was that the Combusken who was dragged out was some unfortunate who’d tried to dodge a draft notice. The whole incident sure as hell reminded him of the times he’d seen that happen in the past. Why if he hadn’t paid off those Grünhäuter two years ago, his own mother-

    Lyle stopped his train of thought as a chill went down his back. The only consolation he’d had in the two years since then that everything had been somehow worth it was that Nils mentioned that his parents wanted nothing to do with him, and that they still had a Quilava about the shop who he assumed was his younger brother. If the army served one of them a draft notice again… what could they do about it?

    For that matter, what could he do for them now?

    He started turning his attention off for shore to avoid seeing the water when he noticed Irune staring off at the raft’s timbers with an uneasy rub at her tusks. From how troubled she looked, he supposed she must’ve also seen scenes like those herself in the past. Lyle’s ears flicked as he heard approaching footsteps, a glimpse of blue scales revealed Boudewijn walking up to them, as the Feraligatr shook his head with a deflated sigh.

    “I’m surprised they’re doing that just before the Autumn Festival of all times,” he muttered. “From the stories I’ve heard coming from the frontlines about offensives stalling this year, you’d think that the army would at least want to not make morale for their new guys worse...”

    Boudewijn trailed off after that. Lyle didn’t know whether or not the Feraligatr was worried about letting his tongue run too freely around them or if it was something else. The whole time, Irune remained quiet and stared at the raft’s timbers blankly.

    Had something Boudewijn told her back when they were going through that tunnel stuck with her?

    Lyle flattened out his ears and turned his attention to their Feraligatr pilot. The wonder of his surroundings had worn off by now, and he frankly just wanted to get off the damned raft and figure out how on earth he and his teammates were going to make it back out of the city and through the rest of their journey to the Divine Roost. If Lacan had thought of informing the Gendarmen about them as far out as Austor Provinz, it’d only be a matter of time before he caught up with them again if they stayed in one place.

    “Boudewijn, where exactly is our stop?” he asked.

    “Right over there.”

    The Feraligatr raised a claw and pointed off at what appeared to be a pair of unnaturally tall stone piers with tall parapets on opposite sides of the river. To the left, there was a small, strip-like island with a set of wooden piers teeming with barges and swimming Pokémon of various shapes and sizes, with timbered buildings and shacks built around the stone pier and even a few that had been built up at its top. It took Lyle a moment to realize it, but it dawned on him that he was looking at what was left of an ancient bridge span, one originally wide enough to carry six or seven Pullers and their cargoes walking astride each other.

    “I’ll be towing you up to the docks from here,” the Water-type explained. “Just hang tight for a bit.”

    The Feraligatr slipped into the water with a splash that made Lyle reflexively flinch. A few moments later, Boudewijn was back at the front of his craft with his trusty tow cable and started pulling the raft forward. Lyle reflexively recoiled from the raft’s edge as the water around it sloshed, as Dalton and Irune settled down against the deck and Kate drifted off towards the back of the craft. The whole time, the Quilava dutifully kept his eyes on shore, as the sounds of Pokémon loading and unloading at docks mercifully drowned the river’s sounds out by growing louder and louder until the raft finally made it up to the docks. The raft slid up against a pier, where it jostled up against it and made Lyle and his fellows stumble as they tried to keep their footing. Lyle pratfell and flared up briefly, hurriedly getting back up onto his feet just in time to catch a glimpse of Kate turning her head briefly and quickly hiding something behind her back. He quirked a brow when he heard dripping water coming from the pier, where there was Boudewijn, pulling himself onto the docks and looking down at them with a toothy smile.

    “Welcome to Newangle City,” the Feraligatr said. “She’s full of highs and lows, but I hope you all find what you came here for.”

    Lyle looked up at the buildings by the ancient bridge and further ashore as Pokémon milled around on the land, in the air above, and in the water behind them. He raised his gaze off at the tall towers looming in the distance behind them when from the corner of his eye he spotted Irune doing much the same. The Axew grimaced briefly, before lowering her head with a quiet murmur just loud enough for him to hear.

    “I hope so too.”

    Boudewijn went over to one of the moorings to tie down his raft as the Quilava went along with Dalton and Irune to fetch the gangplank when it dawned on him. Where the hell was Kate right now? He turned his head over towards the rear of the raft and saw her holding a sack of coins in her claw… the same sack ones they’d given Boudewijn earlier.

    Lyle fought back an urge to shout out a demand of what the hell she was thinking when all of a sudden, a gout of blue dragonfire sailed in and hit Kate’s shoulder. Lyle’s eyes shrank to pins as the Sneasel recoiled with a sharp hiss and dropped the coins to the deck with a loud clatter. He already knew the culprit before he turned around: Irune, who was narrowing her eyes at the Sneasel with an angry snarl.

    “Kate! What do you think you’re doing?!”

    “Huh? What’s going on here-?”

    Everything went by so quickly afterwards. First Dalton running towards them before freezing and looking-up wide-eyed at the pier, then Irune doing much the same. Lyle flattened his ears and turned his head up as a shadow fell over them. It was Boudewijn looking down at them with a surprised gape, which made Lyle’s blood run cold as a single word crossed his lips:

    “Crap.”

    Lyle’s mind went blank for a moment, before he reflexively grabbed at the bag and held it up towards the Feraligatr with a nervous stammer.

    “H-Here,” he insisted. “Sorry about that, we got your stuff mixed up with ours and almost walked off with it.”

    Boudewijn said nothing for a long while, giving suspicious glances between him and his companions. The Water-type narrowed his eyes briefly, before throwing out a claw and snatching the coin bag away with a low harrumph.

    “Tch, you four really do remind me of when I was younger,” the Feraligatr grunted. “I remember using excuses just like that one when I got caught nicking things in the past.”

    Lyle briefly felt a twinge of surprise at the Water-type’s answer, only to be keenly reminded that he was standing cornered on a raft. He suddenly felt a lot smaller now with the water all about him, and for a second, he thought he saw other Pokémon from the nearby docks starting to stare at them. Gods, had they seriously gotten through those giant gates and everything only to be undone by this?

    H-Herr Impergator
    Feraligatr
    ₁, I swear, it was really just a-!”

    “Enough.”

    Lyle grimaced and pinned his ears back as his teammates abruptly tensed up and braced themselves in anticipation of a soaking blow. A loud thump rang out, which made Lyle screw his eyes shut and flinch. He waited a moment, before warily cracking them open to see that Boudewijn had set up the out gangplank. There was a brief silence as Lyle watched the Feraligatr study them carefully for a moment from beside it, before the raft pilot folded his arms and shook his head.

    “... I’ll let you go this time. Times are tough, and you’re obviously in a hard place. I’ve been there myself,” he insisted. “Just make a point of dealing with your problems in a better way in the future. In my own experience, thieves don’t usually get happy endings, and Newangle City in particular isn’t kind to ones that get caught.”

    Lyle wasn’t sure what to make of Boudewijn’s gesture, but he wasn’t going to stick around and complain about it. He nodded back and hastily scampered up off the raft with his teammates. After four made their way up the docks, they beelined for the buildings clustered around the remains of the bridge, ducking down a back alley between two sets of cramped, timbered buildings built under the shade of the span’s arch. Lyle didn’t stop running until he saw the afternoon sun fade away completely with the shade and he could no longer see the docks behind him. He stopped and panted for air as his heart pounded in his chest as Dalton stumbled past and slumped against a wall doing much the same. Gods, that was way too close.,

    Asharp yelp rang out behind him, which sent Lyle springing up with his vents ablaze. He turned around, where behind him,Irune was jumping back and pawing at her side. Off to the left, Kate was pulling an ice-slicked claw back, with her eyes narrowed into a withering glare.

    “Irune what the hell?!” she hissed. “There must’ve been at least a month’s wages in that bag! We could’ve used that to get a head start here!”

    “Kate, we’re not robbing a ‘mon that stuck his neck out for us just five minutes ago, alright?” the Axew snapped. “For gods’ sakes, have some standards!

    “I’m inclined to agree,” Dalton huffed. “Seriously, trying to steal from someone blocking our only way of escape?”

    This had gone on for long enough.

    Enough, all of you.”

    Lyle stepped towards Kate and Irune with a sharp frown, stopping in front of the Axew with a loud harrumph.

    “If you’ve got a problem with one of us in the future, bring it up quietly,” he growled. “We can’t exactly help you get to the Divine Roost if we’re busy rotting in a cell.”

    The Axew turned away and gave an unimpressed snort in reply. He would take that as a ‘fine’, and he supposed it solved half of the problem…

    “And Kate, I’m sure you’ll find someone else to steal from, so just let it go already,” he grumbled. “And don’t go surprising us like that! We’re a team of four, not an entire band. It’s not exactly hard for us to wind up getting into situations where we’re in over our heads in our current situation.”

    Assuming that they weren’t already. The Sneasel remained quiet for a moment, before she folded her arms and pinned her ears back with a low pout in reply.

    “Well that’s a nice goal, but since we’re short on money again, what do we even do right now?” she grumbled. “Somehow, I don’t think that we’re going to just be able to slip in and out of the gate to sleep in the fringes. And with how crowded this place looks, I’m not holding my breath on finding another burnt-out house like we did in Moonturn Square.”

    Lyle’s ears flicked after hearing an approaching clatter coming down from the alleyway, prompting him to look out and see a Tauros tugging a wagon laden with hay. The Puller and his cargo made their way up a ramp leading up to the bridge’s surface where a small market of shops and stalls had been set up near its edge. Why, it even looked like there was a beer hall there! Lyle raised a paw and let out a low grunt in reply.

    “We can restock for the next leg of our journey,” he said. “There’s no shortage of ‘mons here that can help us with that and we can afford to be a bit picky with our marks.”

    Lyle started off, only to be held back with a sharp tug from Dalton’s good arm as the Heliolisk gave a sharp glance down at him.

    “Maybe, but I’d recommend taking a look around first before risking trouble,” Dalton said. “I’ve been here before during a better season of my life in the past, and it isn’t the sort of place where we’d want to be fumbling around in the dark.”

    Lyle blinked at Dalton’s reply. He’d gathered that Dalton had a background that was very different from his own given the Heliolisk’s accent and mannerisms even before the Electric-type said he’d been a student here. Even so, it was still hard to believe the ‘mon had really been in Newangle City before. Let alone enough to be familiar with it. The Quilava opened his mouth to ask for more detail, only for the Dalton to quietly slip out of the alley and warily eyeing his surroundings, before eyeing his fellows on Team Forager with a tilt of his head.

    “We’ll take a quick walk through our surroundings to see if there’s any promising marks, but we should make a point of putting distance from these docks and getting our bearings before we get into too much trouble,” he insisted. “Ideally someplace that’s a bit further from the Eastern Gate we entered through since that’s the first place the Grünhäuter will start looking if they get wise to us.”

    Right. That made sense. Lyle was frankly surprised it was still possible at all to steal things in the capital with the way that ‘mons outside talked about it. Though he supposed having a guide who knew the ins and outs of the city didn’t hurt.

    “I think I know just the right place in the city to do it, too,” the Heliolisk added. “Though there’s something we should take care of first.”

    … And of course there’d be a catch. Lyle and his fellows turned expectantly towards the Heliolisk, as Irune blinked at him with a puzzled frown.

    “Wait, there is?” she asked. “What is it?”



    “That blanket up there to your left. I see scarves hidden under it, and there’s a couple others hidden further along the line.”
    Of all the places Kate imagined herself being after robbing that caravan just outside Waterhead Cave, being smack in the middle of a hive of wood-and-stone buildings was never one of them. Sure, it’d crossed her mind before everything happened that things could’ve gone south and that maybe she’d need to get out of dodge, but even then, she never saw herself being in the capital of all places. Much less clambering up a wooden post towards a bunch of clotheslines strung up from underneath a window, for that matter.

    Though she supposed a lot of things that seemed unimaginable had been happening lately. The Sneasel’s ears flicked as her eyes fell on a white blanket—one that didn’t look washed enough from its dingy coloration—before glancing down towards the alleyway where Dalton and the rest of her teammates were waiting on her.

    “Scales, you know that I could’ve just cut the line with an Ice Shard with how tightly it’s strung,” she harrumphed. “It’d have made this go by a lot faster.”

    “Better to be safe than sorry by avoiding a racket,” the Heliolisk replied. “You never know how closely these clotheslines are being watched. A lot of dwellings in Newangle City are communal, and the skies here are busier with fliers than they are in most other settlements.”

    Maybe that’d explain a thing or two about why the laundry didn’t look all that well-washed. But was climbing up here really that much harder to miss? Kate brushed her thoughts aside and turned her attention back to the lines above. She followed the blanket’s clothesline with her eyes back to the base of an open window and tested it with her claw. It didn’t feel that sturdy, so then all that was left was to pull her claw up a bit to build a bit of momentum, and…

    Thwip!

    The line gave way with a downward swipe, the Sneasel latching onto the loose end and riding down into the alleyway with a rolling stop. Lyle and Irune didn’t wait for her to get back onto her feet, and promptly threw back a couple sheets to get at a pair of colored scarves from underneath. Dalton did much the same with the blanket, where Kate looked down and spotted a scarf made of silvery fabric that felt silken to the touch.

    “Whoa-ho, fancy.

    “Hey! What are you doing down there?!”

    Kate briefly glanced up to see a Bibarel glaring down from the window. She snatched the scarf and took off running, following after Lyle’s heels as Irune and Dalton ran after her. The Bibarel’s shouts rang off in the distance, intermixed with footfalls and the jostling of wood and wire bins that the Sneasel forced her way past as one alleyway seemed to blend into the next. Kate wasn’t fully sure where they were going right now, other than “away from the angry tree-killer trying to catch up with them”, with her only guidance being Lyle’s fire further ahead of her.

    “Quick! This way!”

    Kate planted her feet and skidded to a stop, turning back to see Dalton at a broad stairwell made of crumbled concrete that was wedged between rows of squat wood-timbered buildings. Guess they were going that way, then. The Sneasel darted up the steps, briefly noticing that large parts of the surrounding walls were made up of bare concrete faces, until they popped out into a broad street with Pokémon milling about.

    “Hey, watch it!”

    Kate hurriedly jumped out of the way of a Rhyhorn laden with bags who stumbled to a stop as Lyle and Irune stepped back before running past him. Gods, they hadn’t even been in the city for an hour and here they were almost getting stepped on by others overlooking them. She thought she’d left that behind years ago. Her breaths came tense as she followed Dalton’s tail, bobbing and weaving past passers-by until she followed him into a back alley just past a stall with stands filled with spiky green fruits. She stopped along with her teammates and paused to catch her breath, when she noticed Irune stop and sniff at the air before screwing her eyes shut.

    “Ew… what is that smell?

    Kate sniffed at the air and supposed things did smell a bit rank. She glanced at Lyle, who was pinching his paws over his snout, and then at Dalton as he motioned off at the stand and its green fruits.

    “It’s those Durin Berries over there,” he explained. “They have a strong odor, so if anyone was trying to scent us, it should throw them off our trail for a bit.”

    “Ugh, why didn’t you just lead us through an open sewer while you were at it, Dalton?” Lyle groaned.

    Dalton narrowed his eyes briefly only for his own nose to twitch before he visibly fought back a gag. There was that inner priss of his in action. Even so, part of Kate couldn’t help but be surprised by her teammates. She always thought her own sense of smell was pretty good, but even if these Durin Berries didn’t have the sort of odor she’d want constantly to be around, there were worse to be had in the refugee camps she’d grown up in after mom had to settle down...

    … No, she didn’t want to think about that right now. She shook her head and continued down the alleyway, giving an irritated twitch of her tail feathers.

    “Come on, let’s get going and get some fresh air.”

    The others were all too eager to do so, and as the smell of the produce stand started to thin out further along the alley, she noticed the rest of Team Forager breathing in and out sharply—probably trying to get the scent out of their nostrils. Even so, there was something about all of this that she couldn’t wrap her head around…

    “How did you know how to go up those stairs anyway, Scales?” Kate asked, turning her head over to Dalton. “Since I didn’t smell those Durin Berries from all the way over there, and I’m pretty sure I’ve got a better nose than you.”

    “I actually didn’t notice the stand until we got onto that last street,” he answered. “But I knew to come this way because I saw that poking out over the rooftops.”

    Dalton lifted his splinted arm and pointed off up ahead as Kate followed with her eyes. Much to her surprise, high above, there were a set of concrete slabs set atop tall pillars with some sort of fencing along their edges. The things had to be at least twice the height of the surrounding two-and-three-story buildings and they looked wide enough to squeeze at least two or three of them side-by-side together. The Sneasel turned her head to try and follow the slabs’ path, but they just kept going on and on. A few of them looked like they had chunks missing, but from their construction, they appeared to be—

    “Are those bridges?” Irune asked, her mouth hanging agape. “What on earth were those built for?”

    “Human machines. Ones that supposedly could travel faster than a galloping Rapidash on their own,” Dalton answered. “Most bridges of this sort in Newangle City have fallen into disrepair or been destroyed through the ages, but the ones that are still around and passable provide paths to go between districts in fairly short order.”

    Kate stared up with an incredulous gape at the bridges as she tried to wrap her mind around Dalton’s explanation. Did those human machines have sails? It’d explain how big the bridges were, but she’d never heard of a boat or one of those ‘Segelwagen
    Land sails
    ₂’ which were supposed to be used in the desert or plains Provinzen ever going fast enough to keep up with a galloping Rapidash.

    “Though let’s hurry and change our colors. We might as well make it a bit harder for those Grünhäuter to find us while we’re here in the city.”

    Kate snapped to attention after hearing Dalton’s voice and felt scaly digits tug at her paws. She looked down, where he was taking the silver scarf from her. She at once tightened her grip on it, flattening her ears with an unamused hiss.

    “Hey! What’s the big idea?! That’s the scarf I found-!”

    “Yes, and it’s one given out to students from Universität von Wahrheit.”

    Kate blinked as Dalton turned the scarf around, where sure enough, there was a design of a blue flame in an enclosing circle on it that looked much like the one on his badge. He lowered his head briefly, before letting out an unimpressed harrumph.

    “And just who here do you think would be most likely to convincingly pass himself off as still being a student from it?”

    The Sneasel trailed off and looked off at Lyle and Irune as the pair stared at her with unamused frowns. Dammit, she liked that scarf… but if it really was one that was meant to be worn by prissy nerds, it was hard to argue that Scales would have the easiest time selling the act.

    “Ugh, fine.”

    Kate let the scarf go as Dalton claimed it and tossed a wadded-up blue scarf back at her. The Sneasel unfurled it and was immediately greeted by a white circle with four triangles around it much like the corners of a square. It wasn’t as nice as the last scarf, but she could certainly live with this.

    The Sneasel raised the scarf and started to tie it around her neck, only to discover much to her dismay that hung too loose around her neck—it had clearly been sized for a ‘mon that was shorter and had a thicker neck than a Sneasel. The Dark-type paused briefly, and turned to see Irune looking at a set of matching scarves in Lyle’s paws. They looked to be light red with a yellowish tinge, with some sort of design involving a pair of concentric tan circles with a small spike poking up from the inner one.

    “Bah, of course the next nicest-looking scarf doesn’t fit me,” she sighed. “Guess you’re getting this one, Irune.”

    The Sneasel passed her scarf over to Irune who took it only to look down at it with a blank stare. Kate quirked a brow at the Dragon-type’s reaction. Was there something wrong with it she hadn’t noticed? The scarf Dalton gave her was sized about right for the Axew, and while bold, a ‘mon could do worse than to have a scarf with that pattern on it.

    “Something wrong, Irune?”

    “No, no. I… just was a bit surprised by the design.”

    “By a Drachensiegel
    Dragons' Sigil
    ? I can’t say I’ve seen too many scarves with ones that big on them, but they’re not that rare as a design,” Lyle said. “Just wear it with the symbol rolled up or facing inwards if you’re worried about it being too noticeable.”

    “Right, I guess I’ve heard of them before. But that’s not what I was getting at,” Irune explained. “This symbol’s supposed to be on things that come from the Divine Roost. I just… wasn’t expecting to see it on a random scarf like this.”

    Kate quirked a brow at the Axew. Things from the Divine Roost really had lucky charms on them?

    “Because it’s a lucky symbol that’s supposed to help its bearer remember their home and guide ‘em back safely?” Kate asked. “Why, even Edialeighers are supposed to put stock into that superstition. There’s a reason why ‘mons who’ve done stints in the army like hiding it somewhere on their garb.”

    Dalton seemed to tense up briefly after the mention of the ‘army’. There was a brief silence, before he shook his head and let out a low sigh.

    “It’s a symbol which was popularized around the time of the Kingdom’s founding that’s said to originate from a faraway land called ‘Annal’,” he explained. “There’s some folklore about how it reminded the Founder’s patron of a place she’d seen in her life before the Great Flash, so I wouldn’t be surprised at all if it was used to decorate things that came from the Divine Roost.”

    The Axew fell quiet for a moment, before looking down at the scarf with a quiet murmur.

    “Right, I guess that makes sense. And I suppose a blue scarf would go better with my scales than one that’s a shade of green.”

    … Oh, so those two scarves she and Lyle found were green, apparently. Well, at least they didn’t have to worry about it looking too much like their current ones. Even so, something about Irune’s comments didn’t sit right with Kate. She supposed that the idea of things from a shrine to the gods being marked with lucky symbols sounded a bit dippy, but the Dragon-type sure sounded convinced about it.

    It was those last few words Irune said in particular that felt off. Like she was trying to hide something.

    The Sneasel finished putting on her new scarf and went over to help tighten Irune’s as Lyle and Dalton finished up. Before she knew it, they were all done, and staring down at their red-and-silvers lying on the ground. Lyle let his vents flare up as he walked forward, embers built at the back of his mouth.

    “I suppose that it’s time to torch these and get moving.”

    “Hold on, Lyle.”

    Kate flicked her ears as Irune’s voice suddenly cut in, just in time to prompt Lyle to smother the cinders in his mouth. A couple stray wisps of smoke curled from its corners as the Axew hurriedly cut in and stepped between them and pawed at her right tusk uneasily.

    “Are we sure it’s a good idea to get rid of our current scarves?” she asked. “It wasn’t as if it made a ton of difference the last time we did it.”

    Oh boy, they were doing this again, huh? Lyle didn’t look particularly amused by the idea himself, as he reared onto his hindlegs and folded his forearms with a sour huff.

    “Yeah, no thanks to the scarf that you wouldn’t let me burn and insisted on burying in the forest.”

    “But can we even burn these here?” the Axew insisted. “And what if the scarves we just stole get wanted too?”

    Kate turned her head over at Lyle, and saw he was visibly biting his lip. Guess that was a sign that he hadn’t thought of that. Had Irune had a bad experience since being put on the run after ditching a scarf or something? Since the Axew didn’t seem to have gotten attached to those colors they stole from those Team Pathfinder ‘mons…

    “... She does have a point, Lyle,” Dalton cut in. “If the guards here didn’t know about our colors going in, they’re more likely going to be looking for us after any trouble we cause in these new ones we just stole. At the very least, we shouldn’t get rid of our original scarves before lining up another set that we can change into.”

    “Yeah, and if we do need another set in a hurry, isn’t it easier just to try and change the pattern of ones we already have?” Kate asked. “If we need to wash our paws of them in a hurry, it shouldn’t be hard to dump them in a gutter or something like that.”

    The Quilava flattened his ears and raised a paw with a sigh. For a moment, Kate worried that Lyle was going to make things difficult, since he always had been the type to second guess suggestions. Though much to her surprise, he stooped down, and grabbed the red scarves before handing them off to her.

    “Fine. But at least wad ‘em up and hide them in one bag, so that way we can get rid of them easily if things come to that.”
    Kate balled up the scarves before going over to Dalton and summarily shoving them down towards the bottom of his bag. The Heliolisk winced briefly from his right arm getting jostled, before piping up with a sharp cry.

    “Hey! What on earth are you-?!”

    “I mean, your bag is the one that’s all chewed-up at the moment, and you can’t use items all that well with that busted arm of yours,” she said. “You said that you wanted to get a replacement for that book we stole from those Hunters, so there’d be no harm if you were the one in charge of ditching things if we had to, right?”

    The Heliolisk grumbled and rolled his eyes, before swinging his bag around to adjust the wadded-up scarves with his left hand. Guess that was one way to tell she’d won Scales over with her argument, even if some acknowledgement from him would’ve been nice.

    Kate’s ears pricked at the sound of footsteps against cobbles as Irune drew near and gave a worried glance up.

    “Wait, where exactly is this place that you wanted us to get our bearings, Dalton?”

    “The Administrative District,” he explained. “It has a number of vantage points that overlook the city’s northern bank, so it’ll make going over options a bit easier.”

    … ‘Administrative District’? As in a district where Pokémon who ran stuff would be? Kate wasn’t sure how good of an idea it’d be to go skulking around a place like that, but Scales was the one who knew where he was going in this city…

    “Wait, how are we supposed to get there anyways?” the Sneasel asked.

    Dalton raised his left hand and motioned off towards the leftward part of the ruined bridges above. A pair of Pidove flew past, which at first made Kate wonder if Dalton had lost his mind and expected them to travel on Carriers they’d have to grab onto by their ankles… when she saw it.

    There, poking out just past the rooftops, was a ramp made of stone and wood with tightly-spaced arches running up it. There were hazy figures climbing it, some Pokémon, while others appeared to be carts or wagons from their size.

    “We go up, of course,” Dalton said.



    The walk to the ramp went by smoothly enough, and after pocketing a couple odds and ends off a few less attentive marks at some stalls built at the ramp leading onto the bridges, Team Forager made their way up and onto its upper spans. The lengths of the bridges’ spans were largely empty and mostly paved over with stones, with occasional patches of ancient asphalt and concrete which could be seen in more dilapidated sections. Every now and then, there would be concrete walls that occasionally had rib-like structures that curled in towards the road: posts that once had metal slats which had been harvested and melted down, probably centuries ago.

    Their journey took them deeper into the city, following the ancient bridges along their length until whenever their spans ran out. Whenever they came to such points, they’d cross over on narrower extensions made of hanging bridges built from wood and rope for shorter gaps—with other stretches of the ancient bridges had ramps that went back to ground level. It was a strange dichotomy whenever they made the crossing one way or another: ancient, crumbling, and largely straight lines above, and cramped, haphazard roads flanked by half-timbered buildings that stretched up four to five stories below, occasionally punctuated by human ruins that jutted out among them like oversized blocks. Every now and then, there’d be a row of buildings built up tall enough for shopfronts and small markets to spill out onto the bridges’ spans, while in others where the bridges’ full width was still standing, the entire left or right half would be taken up by dirty and reeking masses of tents and mats clustered so thick that one could barely see the pavestones—refugee encampments of the sort Boudewijn had mentioned on their way into the city.

    Lyle made a point of picking up the pace whenever they passed by such places, he didn’t need to see the disappointed gazes of the beggars they walked by. Much less to risk some desperate type from them finding out that they were still carrying a decent chunk of money on them.

    It almost felt like going through parts of Moonturn Square, with the way modernity piled up on top ancient ruins. Except here, it just kept going and going wherever one looked. Whether on the bridges, or up into the skies with the gray-and-white spires of the Administrative District that grew ever higher as they neared. High enough that some of them looked almost like they were touching the clouds.

    Blauflamme, and I thought the Great Spire was tall,” he murmured. “Though why do those towers have those gray and white tiles or whatever those things are? Most of the shorter ones we’ve seen so far don’t have them.”

    “The gray-and-white surfaces on those towers are panels put up where windows or missing walls once were to protect the interiors from the elements,” the Heliolisk explained. “Putting them up is a tradition that began in the times of King Agarez the Great, and most human ruins in the Administrative District are at least partly covered by them. Even if they haven’t exactly been maintained well in recent years.”

    Lyle turned his head up to see Irune panting and looking past Dalton at the head towards the spires in the background. The Axew stared up at them mesmerized, almost as if she’d brought her bead collection back out, with her attention curiously focusing on the tallest one in the center.

    He wondered what the story behind that was, only for the Axew to glance back down at their Heliolisk guide.

    “How much longer do we need to go until we reach the district, Dalton?”.

    “We’re just about there, actually,” he said. “Couldn’t you tell from the surroundings?”

    Lyle looked up as Dalton pointed off towards the base of the ruins, where he saw that they were approaching a ring wall that had been built between the gaps of a set of stone-cladded towers that looked almost like squarish, upside-down hooks. They were shorter and inward-facing unlike the ones at the gates, but from how high they loomed into the air, they had to be at least twice as tall as any of the more modern buildings nearby.

    Lyle walked along the length of the wall from along the base of the road, marveling at its size. Why these had to be taller than Moonturn Square’s fortifications, and this was an inner wall! Which wouldn’t have been a problem, except for the fact that there wasn’t a good view across the river like Dalton said there’d be…

    “Are you sure this is the right district, Scales?” Kate asked. “Since I’m not exactly seeing how we’re going to spot much of anything across the river like this.”

    “The vantage point I had in mind is still a bit higher up than this,” the Heliolisk explained. “There should be a path we can take towards it right about…”

    The Heliolisk followed the length of the inner wall with his eyes, and raised a hand to trace his gaze. Lyle quirked a brow and followed after Dalton’s fingers, where off to the left, he saw the Electric-type’s fingers stop. There was a brief outcropping that split off and overhung over a few smaller buildings underneath. It was another ramp made of a patchwork made of wood and stone like the one they’d taken to get onto the ruined bridges, along with a few wagons making their way up and down it.

    “There,” he insisted. “That’s our way up.”

    Gods, that high up? Lyle was surprised that anyone other than Flying-types would want to live so far off the ground when drawing wellwater was bound to be a chore. He dismissed it as just another quirk of this strange, ancient place and set off alongside their companions. They followed after the flow of traffic on the road as flying Pokémon casually flew past them, dutifully keeping their distance whenever they spotted Gendarmen nearing. As Lyle climbed up the ramp, he noticed that there top of the wall looked like it was anchored by a set of ancient bridges, or at least what was left of them that had had the space below them filled in.

    All around, there were other remnants of bridges that converged in towards the ring. Nowhere near as complete as the one they’d taken, but still intact enough to see that they must’ve once been linked together in a network, almost like a giant web of some sort that radiated out from the ones where the wall now stood.

    Lyle felt his feet even out from under him and noticed there was a wooden railing that ran the length of the edge to the right. He walked up close to it and slowed his pace as he gaped out and let his mouth hang open and his vents came alight in surprise.

    A ‘mon really could see a lot from up here. Much of it the view was muddy from being so far in the distance, but from the features, he gathered that they were looking roughly towards the eastern gate they’d come through earlier. There was the river they’d floated in with Boudewijn and his raft, the docks, and the route they’d taken from there to get here. And all around them, a veritable sea of ramshackle buildings, interspersed with crumbling human ruins here and there.

    He’d heard stories while growing up about how the capital was built among ruins of a great human city. About how it was filled with ancient structures of scales that nobody in all of Wander had ever built again since their construction. But to see it with his own eyes… it just made him feel like he was walking in the shadow of a city built for fearsome giants.

    Lyle stole a glance at his teammates. Kate was just off to his left, with Irune beside her as well, with both of them appearing similarly floored by the vista. Like him, they gaped out at the spread of the city below, all as the Axew gave a quiet murmur to herself.

    “Scales, is this the ‘Administrative District’ you were talking about?” she asked.

    “Sort of, we’re presently at the district’s edge. The spiral road that scales its walls allows for Pokémon to reach its different levels,” Dalton explained. “It’s the remains of a district built by a mysterious institution called Vector ‘Ah-ghee’ which used to use the buildings here in the time of humans. It’s also where King Klaus founded our land, so it’s also the place where the Crown keeps the royal palace and the rest of the citadel which anchors Newangle City.”

    Lyle quirked his brow and turned back at Dalton. He knew that Dalton said he’d come here to Newangle City before, but he weren’t expecting this level of familiarity with the city from him. And Dalton said he was here as a student, so then…

    “Just how do you know this district so well again, Dalton?”

    “... It’s where I used to go to university while I lived here, back in better times,” he sighed. “It’s not as if the city’s been sacked since the last time I was here, so it hasn’t changed that much.”

    Lyle blinked at the Heliolisk’s reply. He’d figured for a while that Dalton had an upper-class upbringing just from his mannerisms and his accent. But hadn’t he said he’d been an Outlaw around Port Velhen? That was all the way across the Lesser Mist. How on earth did he wind up going from here to there?

    There were other things about Dalton’s story that didn’t seem to add up from what he could recall. He spent time around someone who was familiar with counting money, in Hightongue, at that. He apparently had seen cloth made from a machine loom before, and was familiar enough with it to ask Boudewijn about the fabric he used for his patches. And of course, the Heliolisk had a brother named ‘Dieter’ in the army who bit it from something that still tore the ‘mon up inside.

    How on earth did Dalton go from a world where he was apparently being educated far from home to turning to a life of crime? What next, would he turn out to be some disowned prince who’d been kicked out of his home?

    “Lyle. Heads-up.”

    Lyle felt a prod at his shoulder and snapped to attention as Kate and the others hurried behind a wagon. The reason why quickly became apparent: there was a large party of Gendarmen headed their way. Lyle stiffened up briefly and sucked in a sharp breath as he joined his teammates, but still too slow to avoid being spotted by a Mamoswine in green plates. He bit his lip and held his breath as the Ice-type cast an askew glance that lingered on him briefly, before the guard let out a low grunt and continue on.

    Lyle wasn’t sure if word of them hadn’t reached the capital yet, or else if those scarves they stole were saving their asses at the moment. Either way, considering how it’d taken all of a night for wanted posters for them to hit the streets of Errberk Village, it probably wasn’t safe to assume the guards’ ignorance would last for long. Whatever gear they needed to grab and whatever information Irune was hoping to discover about herself needed to be squared away as quickly as they could manage. He relaxed a bit after the party of armored guards shuffled out of earshot, his breath coming with tense pants as he looked over at his teammates similarly letting out sighs of relief… along with Kate flattening her ears with an unimpressed frown.

    “I suppose that I should be less surprised that a prissy type like you would hang around high society, Scales,” she grunted. “Not that I don’t mind a challenge or that the marks here wouldn’t be rewarding, but are we really going to be able to snag anything while going out to those scenic spots you mentioned?”

    Dalton shook his head back and raised turned his head off inward from the wall. When Lyle turned to follow, he saw there was a bridge splitting off from the roadway and onto a network of raised roads which teemed with Pokémon heading in and out of it.

    “If a decent opportunity arrives for us, maybe. Not that I don’t consider myself partial towards robbing the rich, but there’s safer places to look for a mark in this city,” he said. “We don’t need to hang around here for much longer than to get our bearings.”
    Dalton took a few steps forward, before motioning for the rest of his teammates to follow.

    “There’s an overlook for the other side of the city we can get to after crossing the Administrative District’s inner walls,” he explained. “And besides, it’s been a while since I’ve gotten the chance to get a view of things here.”



    The bridges that Dalton took Lyle and the rest of Team Forager through reminded the Quilava of the ones they’d taken over to the Administrative District—just narrower and branching off into many more directions. They sprouted almost like a web of some sort, with some sections abruptly ending from having collapsed with the ages, while the remaining ones had been turned into bustling streets. Far below, there were other streets on the proper ground, wedged in between towering spires with white-and-gray cladding that seemed to stretch up towards the sky.

    History and modernity had a way of just blending into one another. The cladding that some of the taller towers had was much newer than Lyle expected, with Dalton explaining that they’d been added and replaced when needed by successive kings since the reign of Agarez the Great. Both to protect their internal structures and to beautify what were otherwise crumbling facades… which even to this day appeared to be incomplete from the way how some of the shorter buildings had chunks of missing cladding while still others had skeletal interiors partly overgrown with plants left bare for the world to see.

    G-Götterblut, just look at all this!” Lyle exclaimed. “Dalton, this is just one district?! There must be more Pokémon than in all of Moonturn Square living on this one street!”

    “It’s less impressive than it looks,” Dalton remarked. “Most of the floors of these buildings that are more than about ten removed from some sort of accessible surface aren’t consistently inhabited. Few Pokémon without wings have the time or energy to climb all of those stairs on their own or else to wait for the Tuggers manning the cargo lifts to take them up or down.”

    Lyle blinked and peeked over a nearby railing to inspect his surroundings more closely. At both street levels, the exteriors had been gutted, with more normal buildings built into their facades, much like in Moonturn Square’s marketplace. Such construction carried on for four or so floors, when new shingled and thatched rooftops would be built increasingly into the human ruin itself. By the sixth to eighth floors, sure enough, the signs of habitation started to give out, aside from scattered holdouts that continued further on.

    Lyle noticed Irune gaping up at those upper floors herself, and curiously enough, there seemed to be a look in her eye. That same sort of excitement and yearning that she’d had while they were flying with Hermes.

    “Feels like a bit of a waste,” Irune murmured. “Though what are all those floors normally used for, then?”

    “They’re mostly used for storage or else kept vacant for use as citadels in the event of a siege,” the Heliolisk explained. “I’ve heard in the outlying districts, some of the vacant floors of the taller ruins there are taken up by refugee camps and even heard rumors of stray Wilders living in some of them. But I don’t know how much stock I put into them when towers like those usually have Air Marshals posted on the roofs...”

    Gendarmen or soldiers unwittingly sharing space with Wilders in the middle of a city like this? That definitely seemed far-fetched, but what did he know? Lyle continued on, only to sidestep Kate as she stopped and squinted off at the towers above. The Quilava looked up, and saw shapes fly up near their tops and circle around, a few slipping onto various rooftops, including a black-and-blue blob that he could vaguely make out that had six wings and three heads on it.

    “... Wait, so does that mean that there’s an Air Marshal garrison there as well?” she asked, pointing off at the tower she spotted. “If so, is it really a good idea to linger around here? Since I’m pretty sure that I just saw a Hydreigon flying around.”

    Dalton’s eyes followed Kate’s claw, and when Lyle did the same, he noticed she was pointing off at a central spire towering over the surrounding ones. After a brief pause, the Electric-type’s eyes narrowed and he glanced around warily before letting out a low grumble under his breath.

    “It almost certainly does, even if it’d be hard to tell just who’s coming and going from there,” the Heliolisk muttered. “That’s Dämmerungsturm, where the king’s palace is. You might have spotted a guard, but you could’ve just as easily seen someone flying in towards one of the palace complexes on one of the roofs.”

    Where the king’s… palace was? Lyle supposed that the story checked out from the tales he’d heard of Newangle City and the Crown while growing up, but… something didn’t add up with what Dalton had told them about the towers.

    “I thought that you said that nobody lived more than about ten floors up or down from the streets here,” the Quilava remarked.

    “I said from an accessible surface. That includes rooftops,” the Heliolisk explained. “It’s said that the practice started after the tallest rooftops were given over to shrines for gods to roost in when visiting the city. The kings of the land wanted to be closer to them, and so the lower rooftops in Dämmerungsturm and the surrounding towers are taken up by palaces for the court and quarters for nobles summoned by them to stay in…”

    Dalton trailed off to himself as his eyes lingered wistfully on the towers for a moment, before he looked down and shook his head with a low grunt.

    “Though that’s enough of us getting our heads up in the clouds,” Dalton insisted. “The overlook I told you about is just up ahead. It’s pretty hard to miss.”
    Lyle couldn’t help but wonder what Dalton’s look was about, when he was snapped to attention by a loud gasp from Irune. He looked over and saw her mouth hanging open and her attention fixed off where Dalton was pointing:

    It was the rooftop of a human ruin, with a tall statue of Reshiram made of polished white stone gazing out in the direction of the river.

    “... No kidding,” Kate murmured to herself. “Though how are we supposed to get up to it?”

    “There’s a path up to it,” the Heliolisk replied. “Follow me.”

    Dalton headed through the crowds of Pokémon as Lyle and the others followed closely to avoid falling behind. After what felt like a sea of bodies passed by that made it hard to see much that wasn’t past their heads, he found that Dalton had taken them to a flight of steps cobbled together from wood and stone which wrapped around the walls of the building the statue rested on. No space along the path had gone to waste, as the whole time, Lyle found himself pushing past Pokémon going to and from past cramped shopfronts and entrances to simple houses making their way up and down the flight steps providing access, an awful lot of them hawking amulets and papers of some sort. Shopkeepers plying wares to pilgrims, perhaps?

    The steps began to even out, and the crowds started to thin, which Lyle quickly realized it was simply from there being more space. They’d stepped out into a rooftop plaza of some sort, where dead ahead was a view of the entire northern bank of the city.

    And the Reshiram statue that stood guarding it under her watchful gaze.

    Dalton and Kate were quick to set off, and made their way past the statue as Lyle followed along. He turned his head and glanced at the statue as they passed, when he noticed Irune lingering in front of it with a blank stare.

    Gods, he hoped that keeping her focused and moving along wasn’t going to be a regular occurrence here in the city.

    “Irune, come on,” he said. “You can look at the statue later-”

    Lyle trailed off after he noticed the details on the statue were worn with age and that the glyphs on the pedestal were shaped like various footprints arranged in patterns. Just how old was this thing, anyways?

    “I… just didn’t realize that there were so many Pokémon that still left prayers.”

    Lyle turned back at Irune, who was now looking off at the ground and pawing at her tusks. He turned back towards the pedestal of the statue, when he noticed that all along it below the glyphs, it had been covered from top to bottom in various papers.

    “... Huh?”

    That really was a lot of prayers. Lyle supposed that the statue being in the middle of a big city didn’t hurt, but somehow it didn’t occur to him that it’d also double as a shrine. He walked up to the pedestal close enough for the runes written on them to begin to take form, and sure enough, they were wishes left behind by other Pokémon like the ones at the Bildstock west of Moonturn Square. Except here, there weren’t visible gaps between stones to slip all of them in, so most of the prayers and petitions were leafletted on top of each other. To the point that some of them were plainly visible for passersby to read—or at least the wishes were, anyways. The confessions seemed to be firmly hidden on the backs of the papers.

    They… didn’t look all that different from the ones Pokémon from Moonturn Square would leave behind at the Bildstock, or the ones that some Pokémon from his hometown would for that matter. There was one by some Hunter wishing for luck for his team to make it to their next guild rank, another by some lovebird wishing to catch the favor of a crush, one for good luck in some manner of fighting tournament that was apparently going on…

    And then there were the prayers that made him feel uneasy just looking at them.

    There were a few wishing for vengeance on Edialeigh for everything Varhyde had been forced to endure over the course of the war, and that Reshiram would come and set their land afire in vengeance. There were others that just flatly wished for peace of any sort. A couple desperate-sounding ones wished for the safe return for a relative from the frontlines, to be passed over from the army’s levies, or for healing from wounds taken while fighting in the war.

    … He almost had half a mind to put one up himself. Hell, he’d admit to his whole life as an Outlaw if it’d somehow, let him see Alvin again alive and well again.

    But what was the point? There was no Reshiram to answer all these prayers right now. And even whenever there was one again, why on earth would she lend an ear to the pleas of an Outlaw?

    “Lyle?”

    Lyle’s vents came alive with a start briefly as he felt tugging at his shoulder. He looked down and saw Irune pawing and Kate and Dalton staring back at him from a railing along the rooftop. The Axew gave an impatient stare up at him, before motioning off to their waiting teammates.

    “The overlook’s over there,” the Axew insisted. “Weren’t we supposed to figure out where we were going?”

    Lyle blinked for a moment, before shaking his head and flattening his ears with a quiet sigh. To think that he’d ultimately need to be the one pulled away from being distracted by the scenery.

    “Sorry,” he replied. “Though you’re right, we should take care of that quickly and not dawdle here.”

    The Quilava followed Irune along, quietly stealing glances back at the statue before he caught up with his teammates at the railing. Past it, was an overlook. The view was a bit muddy from this distance, but it really did look like a ‘mon could see the entire northern bank of Newangle City from it. There were a small handful of bridges that ran across the river, with a sea of buildings made in rougher styles at the other end. Above it all, human spires shot up in their midst, ones which had gone entirely uncladded and sprouting vegetation from their upper levels. Some of them were visibly leaning, while others had gouges torn out of them.

    … Was that what the spires around them looked like underneath those panels on the outside?

    Why, there was even a curious bowl-like structure off towards the northwest that pressed up right against the city walls. One that looked just like the central marketplace in Moonturn Square, except it looked big enough to fit the whole of the town’s central marketplace in its hollow!

    Dalton raised a finger, moving it off towards the north, as he settled it over a bridge just past the river’s bend.

    “Over there, on the other bank of the river near the part with the toppled human spires,” the Heliolisk said. “There’s some marketplaces there that are used by merchants that we can hit up, and it shouldn’t take too long to get there if we exit through the Lower Streets.”

    Lyle squinted and strained his eyes to try and make out what Dalton was pointing at, when he noticed there were chunks of towers lay on their sides without obvious roofs or ceilings. He flicked his ears, before giving a worried frown at the Electric-type.

    “What the hell happened to those buildings out there?” he asked.

    “According to folklore, there used to be a Mystery Dungeon there in the early days of the kingdom that had a Link to a distant land,” Dalton explained. “The part of it that used to be visible aboveground faded away sometime before the events of the first war between Varhyde and Edialeigh after the Great Flash and left those ruins behind. Its remaining entrances are now all underground.”

    That sounded like it could come in handy for getting out of the city, really.

    “I don’t suppose that that Mystery Dungeon will get us closer to the Divine Roost, will it?” Lyle asked.

    “Hardly,” Dalton scoffed. “Its known exit loops back to its entrance and the only known Link inside that feeds into that Mystery Dungeon goes to a cave system in unknown parts that no Exploration Team has found an exit to yet.”

    … Or not. Lyle sighed and leaned forward, when he noticed Kate quirking her brow, and shooting an askew glance over at the Heliolisk.

    “Eh? We’re supposed to go all the way out there?” she asked. “I get not wanting to raise too much hell in this district when there’s literally nobles and prissy types living right above us, but if we’re not going to stick around this city for long, why not hit up whatever we find on the way back down?”

    Dalton shot a serious look back at the Sneasel, and gave a small frown in reply.

    “Because this is Newangle City and not some peasant village,” the Heliolisk insisted. “As big as this city is, you need to have a good feel for what territories you can do things in before going and causing trouble, just like anywhere else as an Outlaw.”

    Guess that meant that that part of the city Dalton wanted them to go to was a bit of a dump, then. Lyle looked out at the cityscape below, it was far enough that his eyes couldn’t make out much of it beyond gutted spires flecked with autumn vegetation poking out of a muddy jumble.

    “Also, those marketplaces aren’t close to any garrisons or Guilds that would potentially cause us trouble,” the Heliolisk added. “As a matter of risk management, it’s the best place that I know enough about to be comfortable with our odds of stealing what we need.”

    A marketplace would be full of potential marks, and if Dalton was convinced that was the place to be, it was hard to argue with him as the ‘mon who knew the lay of the land. Lyle turned his head towards Irune after hearing her ask something in passing about whether they should start “by that bridge over there”. Guess that was a sign her farsight was better than his was.

    From how long it’d taken them to make their way up to this overlook, it’d take a good hour or so in order to make their way over and then reach that district. A glance up revealed that the sky was starting to turn orange, which was probably as good a cue as any that they should move along.

    “Let’s get moving then,” Lyle said. “Those marketplaces aren’t going to get any closer from us standing around like this.”

    He just hoped that Dalton’s memories of the city were as good as he remembered.



    Author’s Notes

    Words and Phrases:

    1. Impergator - “Feraligatr”
    2. Segelwagen - “Land sails”
    3. Drachensiegel - “Dragons' Sigil”

    Teaser Text:

    When King Klaus founded Angle City, he did so in the ruins of a human city spread out so far and wide that it had become an ungovernable warren after the Great Flash, much like others which have since been lost to time. As such, the Founder and the goddess Reality saw fit to build a citadel which would shelter a budding civilization from the dangers of an unsettled world.

    They did so at Dämmerungsturm and the towers about it, which had once been the centerᵃ of Vector Ah-gheeᵇ during the era of mankind. Their commanding heights were pleasing to our goddess and overlooked all who would approach the Founder’s city, while their location clustered along a river’s bend made them easy to turn into a bastion. This is why to this day, their citadel serves as the Administrative District of our land’s capital. A throne that stretches up towards the clouds for our land’s goddess, and for her kings and heroes.
    Much of Klaus’ early reign was spent reclaiming the space between the ten towers that lay beyond his bastion. Towering monoliths which housed machines that fueled the lights and various handiworks left behind by humans by drawing from the strength of a distant radiance. He was the architect of his city’s great ramparts, turning the ten towers into Wehrtürmeᶜ and connecting them with walls built with the aid of human works that survived the Great Flash. Thus why he has been immortalized in our history as “Klaus the Founder”.

    Whatever enabled King Klaus and the goddess to work such wonders was lost to time after Wish and Reality and the lands which hail them as patrons first made war against each other. In the ages since then, it has fallen to his successors to attempt to maintain his works. Which is why every king and queen in Varhyde begins their reign by swearing an oath in the name of its patron goddess to do so to the best of their abilities.

    Even in the face of the march of time and its ravages. Even in the face of knowledge that has grown forgotten. Even in the face of those who would lay it waste from their greed and evil designs, with malevolent desire and ruinous thunder.

    - Excerpt from 'The Varhyder Chronicles - A Brief History of our Kingdom's Early Years'

    a. ‘Zentrale’ in German carries connotations of a focal point, especially from which something is controlled. As such, it can also mean “headquarters” in some contexts.
    b. Derived by phonetic approximation of the original letters.
    c. Plural of ‘Wehrturm’, a word for a defensive tower. Left untranslated for flavor purposes.
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter 20 - Surprises
  • OaT_Ch20_Final.png



    Selbst wenn wir in gemeinsamen Ländern leben und gemeinsame Sprachen sprechen, sind wir Pokémon Kreaturen, deren Formen und Arten so unzählbar erscheinen können wie Sterne am Himmel. Und doch haben wir trotz aller Unterschiede eines gemeinsam: die Fähigkeit, die Kräfte der Welt, in der wir leben, zu nutzen.

    Warum das so ist, bleibt bei Wilde und Zivile gleichermaßen in Mythen und Folklore verborgen, wobei einige sagen, dass unsere Stärke die Macht unserer Götter widerspiegelt. Dass, ob groß oder klein, mächtig oder schwach, wir alle Träger einer endlosen Energie mit grenzenlosem Potenzial sind. Diese Energie hat im Laufe der Jahrhunderte viele Namen erhalten, die wir heute als „Äther“ kennen.

    Der Besitz eines von Äther erfüllten Körpers ist das Zeichen, das Pokémon von anderen Lebewesen in unserer Welt unterscheidet, in denen oft Potenziale verborgen sind, die über das hinausgehen, was uns natürlich oder intuitiv erscheint. Und doch wissen wir aus unseren Aufzeichnungen und unserer Folklore, dass es möglich ist, die Weisheit zu besitzen, diese Macht zu manipulieren, auch ohne sie selbst ausüben zu können.

    Es heißt, dass Menschen in ihren letzten Lebensjahren eine große Fähigkeit entwickelt haben, den Äther von Pokémon zu manipulieren. Einblicke in diese Weisheit und die Wunder, die dadurch gewirkt wurden, sind in den bis heute erhaltenen TMs und VMs zu sehen. Seltsame Relikte, die mit einem geeigneten Attacken-Lehrer einen größeren Einfluss auf den Äther des Körpers eines Pokémon haben können als wochenlanger Unterricht durch auswendig gelernte Wiederholungen.

    Wozu Menschen sonst noch fähig waren, indem sie solche Kräfte manipulierten, wissen wir nicht, abgesehen von wirren und widersprüchlichen Geschichten über fantastische Maschinen und großen, strahlenden Glanz. Basierend auf den Geschichten über die anderen Wunder, die die Menschheit vollbracht hat, scheint es jedoch sicher zu sein, zu dem Schluss zu kommen, dass sie sich ohne den Glühenden Blitz sicherlich in etwas viel Größeren hätte werden lassen.

    - Auszug aus »Das königliche Lexikon der Wissenschaften und Künste«




    The path from the outlook and the Reshiram statue down to the ‘Lower Streets’ proved much simpler than Irune expected. After retracing their steps down to the first intersection of the raised street they came from and turning right, she and the rest of Team Forager came across a collapsed span of raised street that had been turned into a ramp heading down to ground level.

    Being on firm ground aside, these ‘Lower Streets’ weren’t that different from the cityscape they’d left behind on what Dalton called the ‘Upper Streets’ above them. The main difference was that there were more open areas between them, some of which looked like they’d still be in shade from the towering monoliths all around them even if the sun weren’t currently setting. The main difference that stood out was that these Lower Streets were less rigid and grid-like based on the lines of open spaces she and her teammates came across. In spite of the various shacks that now filled the gaps between the towers, they clearly once aligned with the platforms above. Perhaps those gaps had once used to be broad boulevards of some sort.

    What really surprised her was the way that the Lower Streets looked better-kept than the better-lit upper levels, even if she supposed the candle and Luminous Moss lanterns around the shops that were starting to be lit up might have helped with that. Irune supposed it made sense that Pokémon would prefer their homes to be closer to places where they could draw water more easily, but it was still a bit surprising. She’d heard during her wanderings over the past year that in larger settlements, that quarters in higher floors which weren’t easy to fly out of were usually less desirable and cheaper to live in for such reasons.

    Even if she understood the practicalities behind why that was so, something about Pokémon not wanting to be high up never made sense to her. There was always a liberating feeling from being up high and looking down on the world, one that made her wish sometimes that she’d been born as some other Pokémon who could just spread their wings and fly away as they evolved.

    She cast a wistful look up at the streets and towers above her, before looking back down towards her teammates and realizing that she didn’t recognize the surroundings of the street they were presently in. Had she been that distracted from constantly glancing skyward? Maybe she had been, since she couldn’t remember ever coming across another place quite like these streets during her wanderings in the past year.

    Or hearing another place like it for that matter. One of the things that stood out after Irune paid closer attention to her surroundings was that she could hear Hightongue being spoken, and lots of it. It was a language that Varhyde’s nobles and educated Pokémon were supposed to favor, and she’d learned enough of it from the village school to at least address a Pokémon as “Herr So-and-So” or “Frau Such-and-Such” to be polite when she had to, along with a few phrases she’d picked up on the run which were… much less polite. But even so, much of the ancient tongue was a mystery to her, enough so that most of it might well have been a string of harsh and throaty growls. And yet, she was hearing honest-to-goodness conversations in it on the street—even between the likes of shopkeepers and their customers!

    Dankeschön, kommen Sie wieder!ᴰ¹
    “Thank you, come again!”


    Including from a shop that was coming up on their left which smelled of broth. The speaker was a Druddigon who was dismissing a Cubchoo with a bowl of soup towards a set of simple wooden tables and stools that spilled out into the street before turning back to a pot behind the counter. … “Scarlet Dragon’s Soups”? Maybe those runes over the shopfront weren’t meant to be read in Commontongue. If they weren’t, then that’d make them… “Shardragos Suppen
    Druddigon’s Soups
    ”, at least if she was remembering things right. It certainly sounded really flowery for the name of an eatery, but it definitely rolled off the tongue better that way.

    “Lyle, what about those two? You think they look like promising marks?”

    Irune raised her head after hearing Kate speak up and saw her motioning off towards the counter as Lyle turned his head. Gods, did they really have to do this right now? She turned back towards the shopfront, just in time to see the next customers cross their path and approach the counter: a Dusknoir with a scarf with a sigil that looked much like a flame on a green background. And there alongside him, was a Charmeleon draped in a hooded cowl of the same color who was casting glances about nervously.

    … Maybe she’d been spending too much time around Outlaws like these three, since the thought crossed Irune’s mind that the pair did seem rather distracted. Though this wasn’t just another random marketplace full of nobodies who’d go off on their merry way, they were quite literally on the doorstep of the king and court whose soldiers had been chasing her for the past year.

    “Don’t risk it, Kate,” Lyle said. “We’re in the Administrative District, remember? If we get caught stirring up trouble, there will be a ton of guards up on our ass.”

    Thank goodness Lyle at least wasn’t interested, even if she doubted it was from any real sense of idealism. Kate pouted but otherwise gave no protest before she and her other teammates continued on. Irune began to trail after them, but even so, part of her couldn’t help but be curious about the Charmeleon and Dusknoir at the counter as they began to pass.

    She remembered hearing a lot of stories about heroes or kings wearing capes while growing up. She supposed that she’d also heard plenty of stories of Pokémon on Exploration Teams that wore garb that wasn’t too different like Reunion Capes…

    Was the cape one? Since Dalton didn’t say anything about Exploration Teams hanging around this district. The Axew turned and drifted over towards the pair as the Dusknoir patted at the Charmeleon’s back, and watched the Ghost-type push him towards the counter with a gentle shove.

    “There’s not many other places in Varhyde where you can practice your Hightongue just by going about daily life on the street, Lohe,” the Ghost-type said. “The chef here’s fluent, and I’ll pay for whatever you want. So go on, order up!”

    Maybe they really were an Exploration Team, since the two seemed to know each other quite well. Even so, something felt off about the pair. The Charmeleon looked over at the counter and visibly gulped before saying something under his breath. Irune couldn’t make out what the Fire-type was saying at first until she drew a little closer, and her ears began to pick up on a nervous stammer.

    “I… Uh… H-Herold? Is this really a good idea?”

    Irune paused and blinked after hearing the Charmeleon’s voice. Some of his words sounded slurred, almost as if he’d been drinking a lot. Except, from his expression and gait, the ‘mon was very much sober. Was it a lisp of some sort? And why did it sound vaguely familiar…?

    She thought it over briefly until it dawned on her. It sounded familiar to her because it was. It was like the one that Cade used to have growing up together in her hometown. Except she remembered her friend’s being a lot less noticeable.

    Irune heard movement and looked up to see the Dusknoir’s red eye peering down at her. She stumbled back with a stifled yelp and turned her head at the sound of approaching footsteps from the street. It was her fellows from Team Forager, who were looking on with wary pauses. The Ghost-type narrowed his red eye into a sharp glare that prompted Irune to scoot away uneasily. Whatever ideas any of them had of robbing the two, they were definitely gone now. Irune could already tell that picking a fight with these two was a bad idea just from looking at them. Why, it was as if the Dusknoir was defending family!

    Du brauchst nicht so nervös zu sein, mein Kind. Was auch immer deine Bedenken gegenüber deinen früheren Freunden sind, ich bin mir sicher, dass du hier bessere finden wirst. Dies ist schließlich dein Zuhause!ᴰ²
    “Don’t be so nervous, my child. Whatever your misgivings about your past friends, I’m sure you’ll find better ones here. This is your home, after all!”


    Could the two be family somehow? It’d certainly didn’t seem plausible and Irune couldn’t make heads or tails of most of what the Dusknoir said, but something about it stood out to her:

    She could’ve sworn she heard the Dusknoir call his companion his ‘child’.

    “Don’t drift off like that!”

    A quiet hiss snapped Irune to attention as she felt a paw clamp onto her arm and tug her along. She turned her head up, where she saw Lyle frowning down at her, with Kate and Dalton just behind. The Quilava hurried her along as some more chatter came from the direction of the eatery, right as a voice filtered over from the direction of the counter.

    “A-Ah… G-Guten Tag
    “Hello” / “Good day”
    .
    ₂ I-Ishh- Ich bin der Glutexo, u-und ich möchte eine Suppe bestellen.ᴰ³
    “I am the Charmeleon, and I’d like to order a soup.”


    Irune blinked briefly and peeked back towards the shop. It was the Charmeleon again, who was staring across the counter with a nervous, uneasy smile as the proprietor shot him an askew look. Was… it normal for Hightongue to sound like that? She briefly noticed Dalton staring off at the counter himself from the corner of her eye, as Lyle continued pulling her forward.

    “Come on, others are going to notice you stopping and staring at strangers like that.”

    Irune shook her head and continued down the street along with the rest of her teammates until they reached an intersection. They made their way left and found themselves on a street that had been planted with trees along its sides. The shopfronts drifted by as they passed as Irune couldn’t help but cock her head at Dalton as a nagging thought lingered in her mind:

    Why had Dalton stopped to stare at the two Pokémon at the soup shop himself? Did he notice something about those two that Lyle and Kate didn’t?

    “How come you looked at those two Pokémon at the counter, Dalton?” she asked. “Were they Pokémon that you met from when you were in university?”

    “Not at all,” the Heliolisk answered. “I can’t speak for the Dusknoir, but I’d have remembered that Charmeleon from back then if we’d met somehow.”

    That comment got Lyle and Kate’s attention as the pair turned their attention over to their Heliolisk teammate. Irune at first was going to ask what Dalton was getting at when it occurred to her that she probably already knew the answer:

    He must’ve somehow recognized the Charmeleon’s accent himself.

    “Because the ‘mon was dressed like some wanna-be noble and was obviously terrible at Hightongue?” Kate asked. “Otherwise, I’m not sure what you’re getting at-”


    “He was speaking with a Rothäuter’s accent.”

    Irune paused as Lyle and Kate both looked visibly taken aback. Kate opened her mouth briefly as a thought seemed to cross her mind only to catch herself. The Sneasel flattened out her ears, before rolling her eyes with an unimpressed harrumph.

    “Ha ha, really funny pun there, Scales,” she said. “Charmeleon have red scales, so clearly he was a-”

    “Kate, I’m not joking,” he replied. “That really was a Rothäuter’s accent.”

    Something stirred inside Irune from the way Dalton said that word. It wasn’t as mean-spirited as some of the times she’d heard it thrown around in the past, but it still bothered her. And before she knew it, the words were already coming out of her mouth.

    “Th-That’s not true! Pokémon from Edialeigh in general speak like that!”

    Irune bit her tongue and froze as her teammates stared at her. She should’ve known better than to blurt that out. Especially when it never seemed to help Cade when she tried to stand up for him from the village bullies. Dalton remained quiet and blinked, before shaking his head and pawing at his injured arm’s shoulder with a low sigh.

    “I don’t know how you know that, but I suppose that would be a bit more accurate, yes,” he said. “Though I’m not really sure what other Pokémon from Edialeigh you’d expect to run into on this side of the Sundered Sea.”

    There was a long silence afterwards. That Charmeleon, a soldier? Why the ‘mon looked like he’d be more at home being apprenticing alongside the glassblower’s son back in her hometown! Lyle and Kate must’ve been thinking similar things, since the pair both seemed to have visible twinges of discomfort as they spoke up.

    “I mean, I suppose I’ve heard stories of ‘mons in our army sometimes being levied young… but why would there just be a captured Rothäuter wandering around the streets of the Kingdom’s capital?” Lyle asked. “I thought the ones that got dragged over here were put to work doing stuff like picking fields or clearing mines from the last invasion.”

    “I suppose somebody in the army thought that he was too valuable for that,” Dalton scoff. “But I don’t think we should worry too much about it. Whatever’s going on with him doesn’t concern us and the further we stay away from getting entangled with more matters involving the army, the better.”

    Irune fell quiet and decided not to press the topic further. Dalton did have a point, even if she wasn’t sure how much longer they could all stay ahead of the army given what happened to the others she’d traveled with over the past year-

    No. Things didn’t have to end like that again. At least some of her teammates could make it to the Divine Roost with her this time.

    If they didn’t, Irune wasn’t sure if there’d be enough time for her to try again.

    “Tch, preaching to the choir there,” Kate harrumph. “Though just how long are we supposed to keep our paws to ourselves, Scales?”

    Irune turned her head over towards Kate as she folded her arms with an impatient tap of her foot. Dalton briefly narrowed his eyes, before speaking up in hushed tones.

    “Until we reach the marketplaces, Kate,” Dalton insisted. “We haven’t even made it across the river yet! Do you see anywhere around here that looks like a marketplace?”

    Irune let her eyes wander and looked off down the street where much to her surprise, above the crowds, there was a rusted metal archway straddling it with some sort of sign and a string of lanterns hanging from the top. She blinked a moment, before she raised a claw to point it out.

    “Wait, but isn’t that a marketplace right over there?”

    Her teammates turned off in the gate’s direction, while she got up onto her tiptoes to try and get a better view. She could only make it out in brief snatches from taller passersby, but just past the gate, the street they were on widened out. On the other end, it was a broad boulevard with two rows of trees running its length with an inner section trafficked by Pullers and their wagons and swifter Pokémon, and on either side were outer fringes that hugged rows of shopfronts.

    Ones that were packed with Pokémon filing in and out of them, with a worryingly large number of their patrons clad in armor plates of various styles.

    Had they walked up to a garrison? Irune didn’t see any walls or fortifications ahead, but where else was one supposed to see so many Pokémon outfitted like that? She turned towards Dalton, and noticed he was visibly blanching and backpedaling. As good a sign as any that this marketplace was somewhere they didn’t want to get close to.

    “Irune, that’s Arsenal Avenue,” Dalton chided. “It’d be smarter to try and steal from just about any other marketplace here in Newangle City.”

    ‘Arsenal… Avenue’? The more she looked at the street with its shops and the armored figures milling about it, the more the name seemed to fit. Gods, it was like someone had made a market specifically for the soldiers of Lacan's Fähnlein!

    She bit her tongue and turned away. If Dalton thought it best to just move along as someone who once lived in this very district, it’d be wise to not question his judgment.

    She began to retrace her steps up the street, only to notice Lyle stopping and shooting a puzzled look over at their Heliolisk teammate.

    “Actually, wait,” the Quilava said. “Not that I’m exactly eager to chum it up with a bunch of Grünhäuter, but what the hell kind of marketplace is this, Dalton?”

    “Holy crap! They’ve got armor on display over there!”

    Irune and her teammates whirled around where much to her alarm, Kate was already halfway over to Arsenal Avenue’s gate, ducking past other Pokémon as she beelined up to display not far past the gate… one that had a few sets of armor arrayed on sets of posts meant to mimic the bodies of Pokémon. Irune felt a flash of heat beside her and saw fire pouring out of Lyle’s vents as his mouth hung open in shock. There was a moment’s pause, before the Quilava threw a paw over his face with a low grumble.

    “Come on,” he sighed. “Let’s make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble.”



    A thousand thoughts swirled around in Lyle’s mind as he, Dalton, and Irune ran past the gate and into Arsenal Avenue, with his wonderings about if Kate had lost her damn mind taking up most of them.

    He tried not to think too hard about the sheer number of Pokémon in armor all around them and kept his head down.

    By the time they made it to the shop they saw Kate headed off to, she was already gone and there was nowhere left to go but further down the street. As they carried on, he noticed that the ground floors of the surrounding buildings were crammed with shopfronts that plied all sorts of wares: scarves and Looplets, Seeds and Wands of various types, and of course a stall here or there selling lucky charms, even if Lyle wouldn’t have called that ‘armor’. Some of the shops lived up to the street’s name more directly, with various plates hung out on display, some of them white or tan from their cloth having not yet been dyed. Reshiram’s Fur, there had to be more armorers on just this one block than in all of Moonturn Square!

    Amidst the blur of passing Pokémon, Lyle caught a glimpse of black and red at a shopfront off to his right. Sure enough, it was Kate: idly poking and prodding at a set of armor made for a bipedal Pokémon about her size. Lyle shook his head and approached as the Sneasel continued to paw at the plates, Lyle’s ears pricking after he heard it rattle and jangle from her tugs.

    “Oh hey, it took you all long enough to catch up. Is this thing made with mail?” Kate asked. “I didn’t even know that they sold armor like this.”

    Lyle flattened his ears as frustrated fire danced on his vents. Irune and Dalton didn’t look much more amused either, with the Heliolisk of the pair having visible sparks arcing on his hide. Dalton stepped ahead before Lyle could say anything, and latched onto Kate with his good arm, sharply tugging her back towards the street.

    “Hey! I wasn’t done!” Kate protested.

    “Yes, yes, I’m sure you weren’t,” Dalton grumbled. “Let’s just get out of here before we run into-”

    The Heliolisk turned and stumbled into a wall of green up ahead, the Electric-type falling and jostling his splinted arm with a sharp yelp. Lyle looked up and felt his eyes shrink to pins after he see the wall of green was the green scales of a Tyranitar. One clad in green armor.

    Gods, Dalton really was right about coming here being a bad idea-

    Watch where you’re going, civvie!

    Lyle yelped and jolted upright at the sound of a bellowing roar. His attention shot back towards the Tyranitar as he gave an annoyed brush at his flank before the Rock-type leveled a sharp glare down at him. A flash of black and red tipped him off to Kate hurriedly slipping past the Tyranitar, as Irune went for to Dalton on the ground. His mind went blank in a panic until something snapped inside, as Quilava turned and tried to dive ahead into a Quick Attack. He felt his head hit something hard, and heard a sharp growl from above. He gulped, as he realized the soldier had cut them off from going back out onto the street.

    “Disrespectful little twerps! Aren’t you at least going to apologize to your betters before you try to scurry off?”

    Lyle breathed in and out as his heart pounded in his chest. It was like dealing with Nils all over again, if Nils were twice as tall and he didn’t have a chance in hell fighting against him. The Quilava felt fingers dig into his hide and looked off to his shoulder to see Irune hiding behind him. Off to his side Dalton’s eyes seemed to take on a fiery tinge and he could’ve sworn he saw sparks on his scales. Was- Was Dalton really just ready to slug it out with this ‘mon?

    … No, they couldn’t afford getting in trouble over stupid crap like this. Least of all in a place where there’d be more Pokémon like this right on the street next to them. There weren’t even money or goods on the line, all they needed to do was just give the ‘mon what he wanted and move along.

    ... Tut mir leid, Herr Despotar
    Tyranitar
    ,” the Quilava muttered. “It won’t happen again.”

    He pinned his ears back as the words left his mouth. He knew that it was the realistic solution to his problems, but having to suck up like always left a bitter feeling in his stomach. Thankfully, it seemed to satisfy the Rock-type, who brushed past him with a sharp huff.

    “I’d hope not, Quilava!” the soldier spat. “This isn’t a public museum! Either buy something, or make way for those of us who have actual business here!”

    Lyle looked over at Irune and saw that she’d come out from behind him and was sporting a fierce scowl much like Dalton’s. Except, there was a minor tremor running down her scales, as if she was about to explode. Lyle set his teeth on edge as he remembered that inexplicable power that came over Irune back at Primordial Woods, and then again in Errberk Village. Now definitely wasn’t the time for her to be throwing that around. He went behind the Axew’s back, and sharply tugged at her shoulder.

    “Come on, Irune. We’re not supposed to be here anyways.”

    Irune breathed in and out briefly as she shook her head and followed along, Dalton still stood his ground like a gottverdammter idiot for a moment, prompting Lyle to hurriedly motion at him with his paw to come along. The Heliolisk hesitated, before he relented and trailed after them with a low harrumph. Lyle hurried down the street with the two as the crowds and trees along the boulevard drifted by. After going down the block far enough for him to be convinced the Tyranitar was safely out of sight and earshot, he pinched his brow and turned towards his teammates with a sharp frown.

    “Gods, would it kill you two to read a room sometime?” the Quilava snapped. “What on earth do you think would’ve happened if we actually took a swing at that guy?!”

    The Heliolisk and Axew both fell silent for a moment. Curiously, there seemed to be what almost looked like a flash of guilt over Irune’s face. Had that power of hers almost come out back there? He thought to ask her, when he was answered by a low grumble as Dalton turned away with a bitter frown.

    “We could’ve ended things in a way that didn’t involve letting that damn Grünhäuter walk all over us,” he muttered. “Not that there’s we can do much about it now.”

    Lyle flicked his ears and shot an askew glance. What on earth was Dalton’s story with the army, anyways? Sure they were Grünhäuter and enemies, but the Heliolisk just seemed so bitter every time they had to deal with them somehow.

    … Didn’t his own brother used to be in the army? Did it have something to do with that?

    “Uh… wait, did we see Kate run deeper down the street while we were talking with that Tyranitar? Otherwise, how do we know we’re going the right way?”

    Lyle turned over to Irune looking over at him worriedly and then looked down Arsenal Avenue. He… wasn’t sure if he had an answer to that. The Quilava gaped around the sea of Pokémon, and tried to make sense of the crowds surrounding them as he kept searching for any sign of Kate or her plumage. All of a sudden, he felt a poke at his flank and shot up with a sharp yelp as his vents flared to life.

    “You know, you’re less likely to get run over in the street if you stand in the center median where all the trees are.”

    He whirled around along with his teammates. Sure enough, there was Kate, stretching her arms behind her head with an impish grin. The Quilava rubbed at his flank growling under his breath, before narrowing his eyes into an irritated scowl.

    Seriously, Kate?!” he snapped. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

    “Yeah! And what was the big idea of just abandoning us back there?!” Irune fumed.

    “Bold of you to assume that I did,” she answered. “I was keeping an eye on you the entire time… oh, and on that pompous windbag’s money.”

    Lyle and his teammates blinked after hearing the sound of jingling coins and saw Kate pull out a large drawstring bag from her satchel. One that they didn’t remember her having before coming into the city.

    “Though are you sure that this isn’t a good place to steal from marks, Scales?” the Sneasel asked. “Since that last ‘mon we ran into was loaded-”

    “Kate, put that away!” Lyle hissed. “We’re in a public place!”

    Lyle hurriedly shoved the drawstring bag back into Kate’s satchel before leading her and their teammates over a quieter alcove off to the side of the street. After taking a moment to wait and make sure they weren’t being overheard over the sound of the passing traffic, Dalton pinched his brow and let out a low sigh.

    “How on earth did you stay alive on your last crew taking stupid risks like that?” he muttered. “Seriously, why didn’t you just go ahead and steal from Graf Wellenhafen while you were at it?”

    It was a question that Lyle sometimes wondered himself, even if he already knew the answer: because she was damn good at getting in and out with other ‘mons’ stuff and had teammates to back her up whenever she fell short. She always had an eye for opportunities that Alvin’s brawn and his ability to stay on his toes made achievable, even if part of him wondered if they had been pushing their luck a bit too much lately.

    He noticed Irune brushing up against the trunk of a nearby tree and watching the passers-by as their ranks were as thick as ever, including those in the crowd who were passing dressed in various sets of armor. Not all of them in army greens, either.

    “Why are all these ‘mons buying armor anyways?” the Axew asked. “Isn’t that just something that’s given out by the army? Who are all these Pokémon?”

    “Mostly better-heeled soldiers and mercenaries who are looking for extra protection,” Dalton explained. “The Kingdom’s standard issue armor is built in segments designed to be used across as many Pokémon as possible and only provides so much defense before it gets damaged beyond use. If you want something that better fits you, or has something like a mail layer to make it more durable… this is the sort of place you’d come to in Newangle City to get it.”

    Kate shuffled her arms briefly before leaning up against the trunk their tree. She raised a brow, before raising her voice with a wary, questioning tone.

    “So… they’ll just sell to anyone with money, then?” she asked. “Since just saying, if we wanted] some armor… we could always get it while we were here.”

    Lyle threw a paw over his face and saw Dalton and Irune’s jaws drop. Good gods, he didn’t remember Kate being this slow to quit while she was ahead back in the Foehn Gang. He pinned his ears back and leaned in, tugging at her with an impatient hiss under her breath.

    “Kate, we’re not stealing armor on a street filled with Grünhäuter!” he snapped. “We ‘re already lucky that you didn’t get spotted ripping off that Tyranitar earlier!”

    “Hey, I just was going to say we could get it, not steal it. I’m not that reckless,” she insisted. “ Besides, we don’t need to steal it in the first place. That Tyranitar was planning on buying stuff from that armorer, so there has to be enough for us to be able to afford something with it.”

    Lyle tightened his muzzle into a deepening scowl. Kate had always been a more daring type as an Outlaw, but this was just ridiculous. She seriously expected them to part with a bag that was obviously full of money before they’d even left Arsenal Avenue? Dalton and Irune took the suggestion little better, as Irune flusteredly stumbled over her words and struggled to tamp her voice down as she spluttered in protest.

    “H-Huh?!” Irune exclaimed. “But that sort of money would be good enough for-!”

    “Us to buy some protection,” the Sneasel insisted. “After everything we’ve been through so far, do you really want to try making it to the Divine Roost without something to give us an edge?”

    Lyle blinked for a moment and gave a quiet wince after one of the lingering wounds on his upper back flared up. He ran a paw over it and trailed off in his thoughts. Even if snagging the money off that Tyranitar wasn’t the smartest thing that Kate had ever done… she still had a point with her argument. They’d gotten badly chewed up just going through Primordial Woods. Would having gone through it with even a partial set of cloth armor have really made things worse for them?

    And with the way Lacan had tracked them down on what otherwise ought to have been a smooth flight… they were probably going to need to go through a couple other Mystery Dungeons just to get close to one of the Divine Roost’s approaches.

    The Quilava briefly worried that Dalton and Irune were going to think that he’d gone mad for even entertaining the idea, but strangely enough, neither of them raised their voices in protest. He looked aside and spotted Irune glancing up at Dalton’s splinted arm, and the Heliolisk doing much the same himself. He and the others had gotten most of their bandages from the night before off by now, but even then, the lingering scrapes and scuffs were there for everyone to see.

    There was a moment of relative quiet as Electric-type paused in visible thought, before he shook his head back with a low sigh.

    “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Kate has a point,” Dalton murmured. “The Mystery Dungeons that specifically lead up to the Divine Roost are said to be particularly treacherous. We’d be fools not to try and get any advantage we could before going into them.”

    Lyle… wasn’t expecting Dalton to say that. Kate clearly wasn’t either from the dumbfounded look she had on her face. It faded almost as quickly as it came, as the Sneasel cracked a cheeky grin and gave a playful jab at the lizard’s hide.

    “Hah, I knew you weren’t a total pill, Scales!” Kate cheered. “How many Outlaws do you see strutting around in sets of-”

    Dalton cut her off by brushing her claw aside and shot a stern frown down at her. Was there still something about Kate’s idea he didn’t like?

    “But if we have to spend it on this street, we’re not buying armor,” he insisted. “Even if it didn’t make us stand out like sore thumbs in front of all these Grünhäuter, it’d get torn up after enough skirmishes.”

    Hrmph, Dalton could’ve just said that it was time to move on, except… for some reason, the Heliolisk didn’t seem like he was in a rush to leave. Was there something else sold here on Arsenal Avenue that he thought would help them? Kate and Irune both looked similarly confused by Dalton’s reaction, with the Axew holding her head at a puzzled tilt in reply.

    “But then what are you suggesting we should buy?”

    It was a fair question, really. Even if Lyle wouldn’t have been terribly surprised to learn that there were places that made them on this street, it wasn’t as if trying to buy something like a cannon or a dart-thrower would be a better idea even if they could somehow afford one. Looplets, perhaps? But there was no reason to hang around here to get them when one could usually find Looplet crafters within spitting distance of any Guild. He turned back to Dalton, just in time to see the Heliolisk raising a hand and pointing off down the street.

    “Something that will last permanently and isn’t sitting on our bodies for the world to see,” Dalton replied.

    Lyle followed Dalton’s fingers and noticed he was pointing at a cramped, dingy shopfront with a Rotom and Joltik at a counter that ran along the street. He turned his attention back to the shopkeeps as they inspected a glinting disc that a Clefable handed over. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, before he saw pair pass a small bag of coins over to the Fairy-type before he drifted off, and the Joltik carefully slip the disc into some sort of clear sleeve afterwards before ducking into the shop with it.

    Was it a junk shop of some sort? Lyle wasn’t sure how any of the ancient relics or odds and ends that such places peddled would help them. He felt a prod at his shoulder and saw Kate walking ahead with his teammates, motioning with a claw for him to follow.

    “Come on, Lyle. Let’s see what this place has got.”

    Lyle carried along with his teammates for the cramped shopfront, wondering what on earth about it had caught Dalton’s eye. Lyle looked up and got a better look at the shopfront as they neared. On the signboard over the entrance, there was a painting depicting a cheerful Rotom surrounded by disc-like shapes. Beneath it were runes with the name of the shop—‘Amp’s Augments’.

    It suddenly dawned on him: those discs were tay-emms. Or else something like one. Those two Pokémon had parted with a decent amount of coin for that disc, and those were the only ones he could think of that would justify that expense on a street full of armorers.

    “Greetings, and welcome to ‘Amp’s Augments’. The fastest Move Tutor this side of Arsenal Avenue,” the Rotom crackled. “Got a technique in mind you’d like to learn today?”

    So that’s what Dalton had been getting at! Learning a move was just the sort of leg up they’d need to get through a tougher Mystery Dungeon, and it really would be easier to hide from the passersby on the street.

    “... ‘Move Tutor’?”

    Lyle peeked over his shoulder at Irune as she blinked puzzledly and eyed the Rotom with a skeptical frown. The Ghost-type was wholly unfazed, and floated up towards with a cheery crackle.

    “Surely you’ve all heard of a ‘move tutor’ before? You know, a teacher who helps you pick up moves beyond what your body can naturally learn,” the Rotom explained. “Watt and I run one of the few shops on this street that can get you started with a fresh move in mere minutes!”

    Wait, ‘Watt and I’? He turned back towards a set of stairs that headed deeper into the shop just in time to see the Joltik returning from further inside. Did Amp mean to say that he and this ‘Watt’ were the only two Pokémon that worked at this Move Tutor?

    Lyle folded his arms and peered down with a dubious frown. Something smelled about this alleged Move Tutor. Discs like tay-emms needed to be interpreted to have any effect and doing so was a feat that only a small number of types of Pokémon could manage on their own.

    And last he was aware, Rotom weren’t one of them

    Hold on a moment. Why should we believe your tutoring will work again?” Lyle insisted. “I haven’t heard of too many Move Tutors who could teach others from tay-emms that weren’t Porygon.”

    “Not without the right tooling anyways,” Amp rebutted. “Pay attention to the Reader on the counter.”

    Amp motioned with a tendril off at a case of some sort on their counter as Watt pulled off a cracked sheath made of ancient resin. Underneath was a scuffed, strip-like object that sported a faint, red sigil that looked almost like two comets swirling in on each other and was topped by a cracked circle with worn buttons of some sort.

    He thought that the sigil looked familiar, but before he could gather his thoughts, the Rotom slipped into the object. The color of the strip abruptly changed as a layer of electrified plasma settled over its surface. It rose off the counter and into the air as tendrils sprouted from the sides and a pair of eyes popped up over where the circle up top was. Much to Lyle’s surprise, the strip suddenly split wide almost like a jack of some sort, as Amp gave a cheery wave back.

    “Convince you enough? Or do I need to also demonstrate that the ‘Beeoh-dah-ten’ Transmitter on this thing is still functional?” he asked.

    Lyle stared dumbfounded at the device hovering over the table, staring at it much as if it were an enchanted stone. Kate and Irune similarly looked stupefied while Dalton only seemed mildly fazed by the sight. Had the Heliolisk seen something like this before in the past? If so, what the hell was it?

    “Ah! How are you doing that?!” Irune cried.

    The ghost in the shell twirled about, and motioned inward with an electrical tendril, closing his eyes with a contented buzz.

    “Humans left behind many relics after they vanished in the Great Flash, some of which were specifically built for my kind to indwell and manipulate like this tay-emm reader.”

    Lyle didn’t know that there were machines that could do that. Gods, that thing must’ve been as old as the ruins all along the street they were walking on! Lyle turned his head in time to see Dalton blinking and eying the device Amp was indwelling, as he inspected the reader and the comet-like sigil on it closely.

    “... How on earth did you two get this?” the Heliolisk asked.

    “Family heirloom. Or at least mostly, anyways,” Amp replied. “Though are you really surprised at a tay-emm reader turning up here in a city that’s already full of human relics?”

    “They’re not anywhere near as common as they used to be in the days of legend, but readers like these still turn up every now and then. Their pieces that are still usable can be put together into working units like the one Amp’s in right now,” Watt explained. “That’s what keeps us in business competing with the likes of those Porygon which you’re probably are more familiar with.”

    The thing must’ve been worth a fortune. Lyle would have had half a mind to just grab the reader and run, but even if they weren’t surrounded by tough fighters, it likely wouldn’t end well. From the way that Amp and Watt handled it, it’d probably break from so much a strong shake. And they wouldn’t exactly be learning any moves without someone who knew how to use it.

    Lyle watched as Amp settled the device against the table and clamped it shut, before pulling his orange body from it. The layer of plasma melted away, revealing the battered resin and the swirl-like sigil that had originally been there as the Rotom floated about him and his teammates curiously.

    “Satisfied?” the Ghost-type asked. “If so, what sort of services can we provide for you today?”

    Lyle blinked for a moment and wasn’t sure how to respond. On the one paw, they were already pushing fate by just lingering here around Arsenal Avenue with that money Kate stole. Though then again, they were right here. He didn’t know how much money Kate had snagged off that Tyranitar, but surely it had to be good for at least one or two of them to learn a move.

    … It was hard to argue they didn’t desperately need a leg up for the rest of their journey. And there weren’t many things a ‘mon could buy with ill-gotten gains that were easier to hide than a tutored move. He’d experienced that firsthand from his time in the Foehn Gang, and the Will-O-Wisp he’d learned back then was about the only thing of that time he’d been able to hold on to.

    But on the other paw, the going rate for being taught even simple moves from a Move Tutor commonly went over a thousand Carolins. Or two to three times the amount in Poké. Why, they could buy everyone a good set of Wonder Orbs with that sort of money, or some decent Seeds and Wands, or…

    Thump!

    Too late. Kate had already thrown the pilfered bag of coins out onto the table and made the decision for everyone. A few gold-colored coins spilled from the sack, leaving Amp and Watt to stare blankly at it, as Kate folded her arms with an impatient click of her tongue.

    “That depends. What sort of tutoring can we buy with this?”

    Lyle blinked as Watt pawed through the bag and pulled out coin after coin, each sporting a polished shine like they’d been minted just yesterday. Blauflamme, just how much money was in that thing? It just seemed to go on and on, to the point where Dalton gasped briefly and Irune stared at the gleaming baubles with mesmerized awe. Watt seemed taken aback himself, as the Joltik assistant counted up the last few coins with gaping incredulity.

    “... Fünftausend
    Five thousand
    . Th-This is Five thousand Carolins!” the Joltik exclaimed. “How are a bunch of scruffy-looking types like you walking around with this sort of coin?!”

    F-Five thousand Carolins?! He’d thought that there was only enough in there for one or two moves to be tutored. Why, this would teach the lot of them anything the Rotom had in stock! Even Hyper Beam if he had the tay-emm on him! That sort of money could’ve taken them through Primordial Woods with a loadout that’d make any team of Hunters blush in embarrassment. Over and over again.

    Lyle reflexively raised a paw back to reach across the table and snatch the coins back. There was no way in hell that it made sense to just dump that money into learning moves when they hadn’t even been eating properly. He then heard a wince and turned and spotted Dalton shifting his splinted arm.

    Lyle caught himself and let his paw drop back to his side. Right. All the gear in the world didn’t mean anything if they couldn’t actually get through the Mystery Dungeons they needed to go through. The ones that fed directly into the Divine Roost were supposed to be among the most treacherous in Varhyde and Edialeigh. Perhaps in all of Wander. And what if they got into a fight while getting out of Newangle City? Would they really hold up against the local guards just with their present strength?

    Amp and Watt were both looking at the lot of them. The Quilava bit his lip, as his words came to his mouth without him even thinking.

    “We just have different priorities really,” Lyle insisted. “But you didn’t exactly answer my friend’s question. Prices haven’t exactly been stable lately, so what can we get for all this?”

    Amp looked down at the money skeptically, and then back at Team Forager’s members. Lyle pinned his ears back and felt heat flash up along his vents, wondering if the Rotom sensed something was wrong with them. The Ghost-type lingered a bit, before giving a small buzz and taking the bag for himself.

    “It should cover at least one move for each of you,” Amp answered. “Maybe more, maybe less. I can cut a bit of a discount if all four of you pay for a session, but it all depends on what you choose to learn.”

    That… was honestly relieving to hear. It wasn’t as if they all needed to be tutored something expensive like Hyper Beam... so who knew? Maybe there’d still be a decent chunk of the money left over afterwards. Enough that they could put it towards food and shelter away from prying eyes, or for supplies to get them by in places where it was too dangerous to just steal whatever they needed.

    When he looked at it that way, he supposed the way forward was only obvious…

    “We’ll do it,” Lyle said. “It’s just… we’d like some time to think over what we’d like to learn, since this isn’t a trivial decision.”

    “We’ve got a list of moves that we offer tutoring services for in the waiting room inside,” Watt said. “The weather’s been getting chilly lately, so why not make the decision in a warmer place?”

    “Besides, I’d need a quieter environment than this to tutor in anyways,” Amp chimed in. “As soon as you make up your mind inside, we can go ahead and get started.”

    The Rotom motioned with a tendril to follow as Watt took the tay-emm reader and resheathed it before propping it on his back and heading inside. Lyle and his companions traded brief glances with one another, before making their way up the steps to the threshold of the shop’s interior. Lyle made it to the top of the steps, before sucking in a breath and stepping forward.

    “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got for us to pick from.”



    Sophia beat her wings as the wind went passing by through the sunset sky. It always seemed to carry lots of memories during flights like these. Some of them were happy like ones of her flying along with her father during one of those rare snatches of relative peace as she grew up while the world seemed to be spinning apart. And then there were the others that… weren’t.

    She tried not to dwell on them too much and focus more on her surroundings. There was the river below, along with the refugee encampments that filled in the closer one got to Newangle City. Up ahead were the city walls, tall stretches of concrete which ringed the city—anchored by ten towers looming at least three times their height. She’d been told while growing up that back in ancient times, those towers housed massive machines that somehow gathered energy from far, far away and turned it into tamed thunder. The same tamed thunder that humans were said to power lights and other pieces of machinery they made. Both in the days of man, and in the early years after the Great Flash.

    They had stopped working after Wish and Reality first clashed in their new world, and now over a thousand years later, all that remained of them were their decaying husks. The towers, and of the ramparts that Klaus the Founder had built between them.

    “That’s the East Gate just up ahead. We should check its Wehrturm
    Defensive tower
    first.”

    Sophia looked left past her wings as a current of air rocked her wings. Lacan pulled forward from using a Tailwind behind her and motioned with his helmeted head at the top of a tower just north of where the Eastern Gate straddled the river. It was part of the fortifications the city’s defenders used, ones that had been built on the ruins of ancient civilizations that nobody fully understood.

    Sophia watched as Lacan entered a dive for the tower and followed along. As she neared the Wehrturm and the surrounding walls, every now and then, she would make out spots that had been visibly patched with stone and mortar and others that still sported ancient scorch marks. Scars from battles and sieges past, like the ones that preceded the fabled Sack of Angle City, or from attacks from the Endbringer.

    They and the camps full of unfortunates below were stark reminders of why she, Lacan, and the rest of Fähnlein Stärke
    “Strength”, used here in German-style naming convention for the name of a military unit.
    couldn’t afford to fail. Of why their mission couldn’t afford to fail. No matter what it took for them to secure its success.

    The empty air quickly ended as Sophia watched her shadow fall over the top of the wall and its parapets. She saw Lacan come to a stop on an open stretch cleared for landing fliers, and beat her wings to brake in the air as she came to a perching stop beside him. As usual, Lacan didn’t waste any time seeking someone out, and promptly stomped forward towards a group of guards centered around a Toucannon who were lazing about playing a game with those picture cards that were popular among the commonfolk. A game came to a swift end as Lacan spat a gout of blue dragonfire just over their heads and scattered the group with a chorus of sharp yelps.

    “For gods’ sake, get off your feet and at least try to look alert!”

    Sophia quietly grimaced as the Toucannon and the other soldiers got up with sour glares leveled in their direction. Ones that swiftly slid off their faces at the sight of the armored Salamence and his wings spread wide. She supposed that was one way to tell that Lacan had was stressed right now. While the Salamence had a bit of a temper at times, she didn’t remember it normally coming out this quickly.

    “Who on earth is in charge of this Wehrturm?” the Dragon-type demanded. “There is an urgent matter that requires him to be immediately briefed.”

    “You mean ‘requires her to be immediately briefed’.”

    Clawed footsteps against stone tiles rang out as an Empoleon in green plates entered from the left of Sophia’s vision—a Hauptmann based on the design on her scarf. The Empoleon approached and glanced between her and Lacan, before turning the corners of her beak down into dubious frown.

    “Though it’s usually me who’s questioning Pokémon that pass through here,” she said, quietly sizing up Lacan’s scarf. “You’re certainly far from the frontlines… Oberst Brutalanda. Who are you two and why are you here harassing my subordinates during their break?”

    “That would be Graf Wellenhafen, Impoleon
    Empoleon
    ,” the Salamence tersely answered. “I need to know the passengers of so much as every dinghy that went through the East Gate’s river entrance today.”

    The Empoleon’s mouth hung open along with a furrowed brow. That… was probably a sign that she and Lacan needed to take a few steps back and explain things a bit more.

    “Apologies for any inconvenience we may be causing you and your subordinates, Frau Hauptmann. But we’re here in pursuit of a group of fugitives wanted for crimes against His Majesty’s realm,” Sophia explained. “We have reason to believe they may have passed through your gate.”

    The Empoleon’s expression didn’t change and she briefly started to speak only to catch herself. Probably words that the Empoleon thought better of in light of her and Lacan’s relative rank. Sophia raised a wing for attention, only for the Water-type to cut her off with a shake of her head and a quiet scoff.

    “I’m sorry, but why are you two carrying out the duties of common Gendarmen on the home front?” the Empoleon demanded. “Does His Majesty’s army have nothing better to do with its Stabsoffiziere these days?”

    “Normally it would, but these are unusual circumstances, Frau Impoleon.”

    Sophia shifted a satchel off her shoulder and began to root about it with her beak, before settling on a wad of wanted posters that she raised up for the Empoleon to take. The Empoleon briefly studied them as Sophia returned her beak into her satchel and fetched the envelope which contained their royal commission signed by King Siegmund—one which had grown creased from the number of times she’d had to produce it on her and Lacan’s behalf over the past year. After finding it, she passed it along afterwards to the Hauptmann, as Lacan let out a low, impatient rumble from the back of his throat.

    “If this was a matter that could be entrusted to local Gendarmen, I assure you, His Majesty would’ve done so long ago.”

    The Empoleon opened the envelope and began to read the letter inside. The routine had become almost predictable for Sophia by now. The reader would go down the lines of runes with a skeptical frown or some similar reaction, which would linger until reaching the signature and pawprint of King Siegmund himself at the bottom.

    And the Empoleon, like so many others before her, widened her eyes briefly at the sight. She hesitated and folded the letter back up, before turning back to the Toucannon among the roused guards just off to their right.

    Soldat Tilo, go and review the logbooks of the East Gate’s entrances,” she ordered. “There’s only so many parties that come in with Axew, and if any of the other three were with her, they’ll surely make hers stand out.”

    The Toucannon hastily saluted by putting a wing over his armored chest before vaulting off the ledge of the wall and entering a dive. Sophia supposed that one way or another, they wouldn’t be kept waiting for an answer for long. The Empoleon approached Lacan and began to talk as Sophia’s attention drifted off towards the sprawling city off on the other side of the walls—towards a veritable thicket of wooden and thatched roofs nestled in and among ruins of the past. Ones which towered above them like rocks above a shallow sea.

    The Corvisquire quietly sucked in a breath and set her beak on edge. If the Dyad and her companions had come here through that raft, this would be where they were spotted first. But… who was to say that they just showed themselves at the gate? Someone had apparently smuggled them into Moonturn Square and she’d only learned of their presence thanks to the four being spotted after a series of clumsy attempts to steal from the townsfolk.

    … What if it happened again? Sophia wasn’t sure if four regiments could find the Dyad in that maze of buildings, let alone their Fähnlein’s roughly four hundred troops that were presently able-bodied. The Corvisquire turned away, just in time for her to notice the Empoleon brushing at one of her plates and skeptically frowning at Lacan.

    “Though, if I may go ahead and ask, Graf Wellenhafen, but what on earth is going on here?” the Water-type asked. “It may have been a while since I was last deployed for frontline combat, but you can’t expect me to believe that His Majesty would seriously be this concerned over a band of four Outlaws.”

    “That is a matter that doesn’t concern you,” Lacan harrumphed back, narrowing his eyes. “His Majesty deemed apprehending those four a matter of utmost importance, and that should be more than sufficient to justify a simple log check.”

    The Empoleon shot a sharp scowl back in response. Sophia supposed the pair’s reactions to each other were only understandable. It was always a frustrating experience whenever her own curiosity was brusquely rejected by a superior like they were doing to this Hauptmann. At the same time, it was hard to fault Lacan for being short of patience after their recent ordeals.

    There was just always a part of her that felt uncomfortable seeing him like this. It felt so jarring when thinking back to those days when they were both young together in her hometown…

    She supposed they had greater concerns at the moment. The Corvisquire hastily stepped forward and cut in with a wing. She turned to the Empoleon, and lowered her head with an apologetic bow.

    “As I’m sure you’re well aware, Frau Impoleon, but the Founder himself was recorded as saying that there are circumstances where some truths must be kept hidden due of the needs of reality,” she explained. “I wish that we could be more frank with you about our mission, but this is one of those circumstances where it’d be negligent of us to not heed that ancient wisdom.”

    The Empoleon shot a sidelong glance in return but otherwise kept quiet. Probably the best that could be hoped for, really. The Water-type seemed to be weighing whether or not to press further, when the sound of hurried wingbeats rang out. Sophia turned her head for the outer edge of the city wall, where the Toucannon from earlier was flying up from below onto the wall’s ledge, panting for breath.

    Hauptmann Gulkin, those thieves are there in the logbook!” the Toucannon cried.

    Sophia beat her wings out subconsciously and fought back a startled caw. Everyone’s eyes fell on the flustered Toucannon, who hurriedly gave a salute over his heart before speaking up.

    “They passed through as passengers on a raft that went through Berth #5 of the East Gate four hours ago,” he explained. “Same scarf patterns that you reported and everything!”

    Sophia’s heart skipped a beat as she turned over to Lacan. At once, a tense, dangerous look settled over the Salamence’s face, and he turned over to Hauptmann Gulkin with an impatient cock of his head out toward the city.

    “Then we will be in need of your subordinates’ aid to find them, Frau Hauptmann,” Lacan said. “Pass word along to them and to your superiors that these posters are to be copied and distributed. And that your forces should make themselves available to take direction from ‘Fähnlein Stärke’ for this search effective immediately.”

    The Empoleon paused and blinked in reply, and for a moment, Sophia thought that she would have to step in again and try and assuage Gulkin’s pride. Except, the Water-type seemed to have a flash of realization come over her eyes, as she grabbed at a satchel about her shoulder.

    “... Wait a minute, did you say ‘Fähnlein Stärke’?”

    … She’d already heard of them before? Sophia felt a twinge of unease come over her. Fähnlein Stärke was a phantom which, outside of their royal commission, existed only in records deep within the Generalstab. Ones which would be sealed away if not outright destroyed after their mission was complete. Their pursuit of the Dyad hadn’t ever taken them to the royal capital in the past year, so how on earth did Gulkin already know of it?

    “Yes, I realize that it’s a bit unusual for Pokémon of our rank to be directing such a small unit,” the Corvisquire started. “But-”

    “Because if so, we’ll go ahead and start looking for those Pokémon like you asked, but we can’t take orders from you. Or at least not just yet,” the Empoleon explained. “I received a directive from the Hofstaat itself three days ago that if any Pokémon of Stabsoffizier rank from Fähnlein Stärke arrived at the gates or walls, that I was to inform them to appear before His Majesty for a summons.”

    The Empoleon pulled out an envelope of her own and pulled out its letter, unfurling it between her flippers to read. Sophia stepped forward and at once saw the same signature and pawprint on it at the bottom, along with row after row of runes above them. Ones that as she read them to herself, made her face twist into a deepening grimace.

    “I don’t suppose His Majesty said when the summons was supposed to happen after we arrived?” Lacan asked. “Since this really is a matter that-”

    “It says to come immediately upon receiving notice, Lacan.”

    She pointed out the last few runes towards the bottom of the paper for her Salamence companion, just above the signature and stamp. She watched as his own eyes went back and forth reading the lines. Their movements grew slower, as the reason for the summons had been spelled out as clear as day:

    King Siegmund received their correspondence after they’d captured the Dyad earlier this week, and he wanted to know why they hadn’t brought her before him since then.

    Sophia traded a nervous glance over at Lacan, who appeared to be on edge himself. His wings were held low, as he looked aside and screwed his eyes shut with a tired sigh.

    Wunderbar
    Wonderful
    ₈.




    Author’s Notes

    Words and Phrases:

    1. Shardragos Suppen - “Druddigon’s Soups”
    2. Guten Tag - “Hello” / “Good day”
    3. Despotar - “Tyranitar”
    4. Fünftausend - “Five thousand”
    5. Wehrturm - “Defensive tower”
    6. Stärke - “Strength”, used here in German-style naming convention for the name of a military unit.
    7. Impoleon - “Empoleon”
    8. Wunderbar - “Wonderful”

    Dialogue:

    D1. “Dankeschön, kommen Sie wieder!” - “Thank you, come again!”
    D2. “Du brauchst nicht so nervös zu sein, mein Kind. Was auch immer deine Bedenken gegenüber deinen früheren Freunden sind, ich bin mir sicher, dass du hier bessere finden wirst. Dies ist schließlich dein Zuhause!” - "Don’t be so nervous, my child. Whatever your misgivings about your past friends, I’m sure you’ll find better ones here. This is your home, after all!"
    D3. “Ich bin der Glutexo, und ich möchte eine Suppe bestellen.” - “I am the Charmeleon, and I’d like to order a soup.”

    Teaser Text:

    Even when dwelling in shared lands and while speaking shared tongues, we Pokémon are creatures that come in forms and kinds that can seem as uncountable as stars in the sky. And yet, for all our differences, we share a common thread—an ability to wield the powers of the world that we live in.

    Why that is so remains shrouded in myth and folklore among Wilder and Civil alike, with some saying that our strength echoes the might of our gods. That whether great or small, mighty or feeble, that we all carry flickers of an infiniteᵃ energy with boundless potential. This energy has gone by many names through the ages, which we know in the present day as “Ether”.

    Possessing a body imbued with ether is the mark which distinguishes Pokémon from other life in our world, which often hides potential beyond what comes naturally or intuitively to us. And yet, we know from our records and folklore that it is possible to have the wisdom to manipulate this power even without being able to wield it by oneself.

    It is said that in their twilight years, humans developed a great proficiency at manipulating the ether of Pokémon. Glimpses of this wisdom and the wonders that were worked because of it can be seen through the tay-emmsᵇ and fow-emmsᶜ which have survived to this day. Strange relics that, with an appropriate Move Tutor, can leave a greater impact on the ether of a Pokémon’s body than weeks of tutoring through rote repetition.

    What else humans were capable of through manipulating such power, we know not beyond muddled and conflicting tales of fantastical machines and great radiances. Though based on the tales of the other wonders that mankind accomplished, it seems safe to conclude that were it not for the Great Flash, they surely could have transformed themselves into something so much more.ᵈ

    - Excerpt of ‘The Royal Lexicon of Sciences and Arts

    a. Semantic translation. A more literal one would be “endless”, with the “endless energy” in the original text alluding to the same concept as “infinite energy” does here.
    b. Derived by phonetic approximation of the original letters.
    c. Derived by phonetic approximation of the original letters.
    d. Semantic translation. A more literal one for the portion following the Great Flash would be roughly “they surely could have become something much greater”.
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter 21 - Bygones
  • OaT_Ch21_Final.png



    Neuengelstadt, 15. Herbstmond, 1027 n. d. B.

    Für wen es angeht,

    Durch königlichen Erlass von König Siegmund von Wahrheit wird der Empfänger dieses Briefes hiermit angewiesen, alle Untergebenen unter seinem Kommando anzuweisen, für die Ankunft etwaiger Truppen der Fähnlein-Stärke der Armee Seiner Majestät bereitzustellen und die Nachricht von deren Ankunft unverzüglich seiner Majestät und sein Generalstab zu übermitteln.

    Alle Vertreter von Fähnlein Stärke aus den Mannschaftsrängen müssen an den Toren gehalten werden und dem Generalstab seiner Majestät mitgeteilt werden, dass dieser einen Abgesandten entsenden soll, um sie zu treffen und alle Neuigkeiten und Erkenntnisse in einer sicheren Umgebung zu besprechen. Sollte ein Vertreter im Rang eines Stabsoffiziers vor Ihren Toren erscheinen, müssen Sie ihn oder sie anweisen, mit sofortiger Wirkung in seiner Residenz im Heldenschloss vor seiner Hoheit zu einer königlichen Audienz zu erscheinen.

    Sie müssen allen Anfragen, die diese Vertreter bei Ihrer Ankunft an Sie stellen und die sich nicht auf ihre Vorladung beziehen, nicht nachkommen. Ihre Angelegenheiten von Fähnlein Stärke beziehen sich auf Angelegenheiten, die die Sicherheit des Reiches und seine Kriegsanstrengungen betreffen, und es sollte davon ausgegangen werden, dass sie den Segen seiner Majestät haben.

    Jeder Versuch, den Erlass seiner Majestät zu behindern, wird als Insubordination gegenüber der königlichen Armee behandelt und dementsprechend bestraft.


    - Dringende Depesche vom König von Wahrheit, Siegmund Wieshus, weitergeleitet an die Wehrturmhauptmänner der Neuengelstädter Mauern



    High in the skies above Newangle City, Lacan banked around the Administrative District’s spires. He watched as his shadow danced from one tower’s cladding to another, all awash with the orange, sunset hues that looked almost like he’d painted them himself.

    Being in the air was always a soothing experience for him, as the world below always seemed so far away, and even the fiercest foes and strongest ramparts seemed conquerable. He knew all too well that such feelings were often mere illusions. Even if he’d been told before that his strength was the envy of many a Pokémon of his rank in the army, he had lived experience and battle scars to prove that his power still had limits.

    … Not that there was hardly any harm indulging one’s follies from time to time. Gods knew that he hadn’t had many opportunities to do so in recent years.

    He turned his eyes towards the rooftops of the white-and-gray cladded towers and watched as countless figures teemed about on them. There were the garrisons for the Air Marshals and flightworthy soldiers, the first line of defense against any aerial assaults. There were the quarters for various nobles, residences which were maintained among the spires for when they were summoned by the crown. And of course, there were the rooftop shrines that had been set aside as roosts for visiting gods, including the one at the very top of Dämmerungsturm that had been built where the Founder and his patron goddess had once roosted. It housed the great eternal flame that Reshiram herself first stoked which was revealed to the world every night after its sliding shutters were moved away. A great sanctuary whose interior was said to have drawn inspiration from the Divine Roost itself for its layout…

    And if all went well, soon enough, it’d be filled once again with awed and worshipful pilgrims.

    The Salamence trailed off in his thoughts and sighed, when he realized his surroundings were strangely quiet beyond the sound of winds gusting past his ears. He braked in the air, and glanced back with a worried murmur.

    “... Sophia?”

    Lacan turned his body around just in time to spot his Corvisquire Obertsleutnant rounding around a broad tower just to the northeast, one which was a good distance behind him. A part of him felt a small pang of guilt. He supposed he should’ve expected that Sophia’s armor would encumber her more as a smaller Pokémon.

    He dove down and banked to fly through a gap in the broad tower, glimpsing up at a ceiling with exposed metal beams above him. Even here, directly beneath Agarezpalast
    Agarez’s Palace
    ₁, the traditional residence of Varhyde’s kings up until the reign of King Sansa, which was somewhere on the topmost roof above him, there were lingering scars from past wars. Some of the broader towers in Newangle City had holes punched into them like this one, while others had sections which were abruptly shorn off. Some through the ravages of time, some all at once from cataclysms like the Sack of Angle City, the name by which the Kingdom’s throne had been called when it happened.

    And like in so much of Varhyde, there were newer scars left behind from things going unmaintained due to the needs of the war. There were segments of the towers that were missing chunks of cladding which had been dislodged by the elements, and others had grown stained and discolored. Supposedly in times of peace such as the golden years of King Sansa’s reign, the crown had the resources to repair and replace such segments to make sure that the towers’ appearances stayed smartly maintained, like giant Bildstöcke for the land’s patron goddess…

    But those peaceful days were long over, and it would be obscene to indulge in such extravagances with the Kingdom’s present state. Why, with the circumstances that King Siegmund ascended to the throne in, Lacan doubted the King would dream of a gesture that would risk rankling the commoners after they had been asked to risk and sacrifice so much.

    After popping out the other end of the tower’s hole, Lacan spotted Sophia off to his left. He beat his wings and came up behind her, and batted his wings out as he neared. A stiff Tailwind kicked up between them, the wind ruffling the crow’s feathers and making her glance back with a startled turn of her head.

    “If you need a helping claw, don’t be afraid to ask for it, Sophia,” he insisted. “I wouldn’t dream of denying it to you.”

    The Corvisquire remained silent. Was something troubling her? He knew that Sophia had been prone to melancholy spells for some years, but he didn’t think that she’d been going through one of them recently…

    The Salamence pulled alongside her and slowed his pace and turned a worried gaze over to his companion. She didn’t say anything in reply other than to keep her attention trained on the passing towers ahead of them, before finally giving a quiet murmur in reply.

    “Lacan, you don’t need to watch over me like some fledgling. Lend your strength to those who need it more,” Sophia insisted. “My wounds healed much longer ago than your own, and the last time I was assessed by a physician, I was told I won’t be a Corvisquire for much longer.”

    Lacan reflexively opened his mouth to protest. To remind Sophia that the entire reason why she still trailed him in strength to such an extent when they’d shared most of their childhoods with each other was because of those injuries she’d sustained in battle. It had taken her three years after suffering them to recover to the point where she could fight again. And if it wasn’t for those own injuries of his he’d endured that gotten him sent home while they were last deployed, she’d-

    No. Lacan didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened if he wasn’t there to shield her during that ambush. He had always felt guilty for not being able to be there at her side in that dark time when she was still recovering from her wounds. Perhaps it was part of the reason why she was still suffering from those melancholy spells she’d had since her parents died.

    Gods forbid Sophia had actually died on either of those occasions. Lacan didn’t know what he’d have done afterwards if she had, and he prayed he’d never have to find out the answer to that question.

    “There’s nobody else for me to look after right now, Sophia. And it’s important that you remember to care for your own interests from time to time,” Lacan reminded. “I understand that your Ritterorden trained you about the importance of self-sacrifice, but it’s important not to give up more than you can shoulder.”

    “... That is merely part of my duties as a Ritterin, Lacan,” the Corvisquire said. “You should know this.”

    An uncomfortable silence came over the pair as they pulled up along the length of Dämmerungsturm. Sophia always had been willing to sacrifice for others and try and offer what comfort she could, to the point Lacan had sometimes wondered if the fates had intended for her to be a Kaplan
    chaplain
    ₃ instead of a Ritterin.

    It was that part of her that Lacan that quietly dreaded would one day claim her life.

    It was part of the reason why he’d volunteered to take charge of Operation Spark in the first place after he was forced back to Varhyde a little over two years ago to recover from his own wounds he’d taken shielding Sophia in battle. A chance, however slim, that the war could finally be ended swiftly, that the fears of generations of Pokémon in Varhyde could finally be laid to rest.

    Along with their much-denied yearnings for vengeance.

    A flash of autumn colors crossed his eyes as the terraced gardens came into view up ahead on the southern face of Dämmerungsturm. That was their destination, Heldenschloss
    Heroes’ Palace/(Unfortified) Castle
    ₂. A palace that prior to King Sansa also moving Varhyde’s kings into it, had been a domain set aside as a residence of the Heroes of the land’s patron goddess—not that there were any Pokémon who were still alive to claim the title.

    Many centuries ago, the terrace had been a sloped roof, only to be laid waste by the thunder of Edialeigh’s patron god during war. Through determination and force of will, the scarred portion of the tower had since been rebuilt into the leafy terrace that was there today. With the way it stood out against the tower’s white and gray cladding, it provided an easy marker during daylight hours for fliers to spot the King’s residence.

    Even if the air was a bit chilly, he could see what compelled their forebears to not just abandon the place.

    Except, there was only so much that he could enjoy the sights with King Siegmund’s summons lingering at the back of his mind. It was the law of the land that any Pokémon who held a noble title had to present himself as soon as physically possible upon being summoned by the reigning monarch, and as a Graf, he was no exception to it. He already had an idea of what it would be about: King Siegmund surely wanted an explanation for why the Dyad was still not in his presence.

    Lacan just hoped that that last minute turn of fate against him just outside Moonturn Square hadn’t worn out His Majesty’s patience.

    “We’re here, Sophia,” he said. “Mind the crosswinds while landing.”

    Lacan banked and swooped towards the gardens as Sophia followed him. There, the lowest level of the terrace had a paved space of gray brickwork along the tower’s edge, with markers pointing out directions for fliers and those who carried along air carriages used by some local nobles to safely land without running into each another.

    The Salamence came to a jogging stop along the rooftop plaza, beating his wings to slow himself as the pair’s arrival made other nearby fliers and Pokémon tending to air carriages to turn and gape briefly. He paid their prying eyes no heed and made his way up to the gates leading into the terrace’s gardens, where a Haxorus and Raichu in green plates stood watch alongside a small party of their peers. The pair stiffened up and stood at attention after seeing him approach, and hurriedly stepped out into his path as the Haxorus reared up with a startled huff.

    “H-Hold it! This is the main gate to Heldenschloss!” the Haxorus protested. “This is the King’s palace! You can’t just barge in here!”

    Gods above, he did not need to deal with this right now. Lacan narrowed his eyes in reply, as a low, irritated growl rose from his throat.

    “Are you blind?” the Salamence snapped. “Or do His Highness’ honor guards no longer receive training in identifying basic military ranks these days?”

    The Haxorus seemed to grow spooked and wavered briefly, before the Raichu of the pair stepped up. The Electric-type studied his scarf briefly, before pointing a paw up at his face with a sparking snort.

    “Yeah, yeah, you’re an Oberst, big whoop. ‘mons with your rank aren’t that rare,” the Raichu scoffed. “Look, just because you’re a bit up there in the army doesn’t mean you’re allowed to just swoop in without-”

    “I’m afraid that things are a bit more complicated than that, Herr Raichu.”

    Lacan turned just in time to see Sophia shuffle a satchel off her back and fish through it with her beak to pull out their royal commission along with their summons. The Haxorus took the papers and glanced at them before swiftly blanching. The Raichu glanced up at his taller and bulkier companion with a puzzled blink, then back at the Salamence as he narrowed his eyes into a piercing glare back at the two guards.

    “That would be Oberst im Generalstab
    “on the General Staff”, a traditional appending to the rank of a military officer with membership in such a body in a Germanosphere army, especially in Prussia.
    ₄, you impudent rat,” Lacan growled. “I believe that those papers should speak for themselves, though please do go on and tell me how King Siegmund doesn’t have time to meet with me. I’m sure he’ll be just thrilled to hear about how you interfered with one of his summons.”

    The color quickly drained from the guards’ faces as their peers quickly backed away, leaving the pair to squirm under Lacan’s gaze. Lacan had supposed he’d heard tha King Siegmund’s conscientiousness for his realm’s war effort had prompted him to choose less accomplished guards for otherwise ceremonial duties such as his honor guard. Perhaps he’d been a bit too much so from the way these Pokémon were reacting to being caught off-guard like this.

    “R-Raimond, why does nobody ever tell us about these-?” the Haxorus of the pair whined. “I-I mean, m-my apologies, Herr Brutalanda-”

    “That’s Herr Graf von Wellenhafen to you, Haxorus,” Lacan snarled. “Now both of you, stop wasting our time and let us through!”

    The Raichu blinked and turned his gaze between him and Sophia before Lacan stepped forward and loomed over the guard. He let hot, impatient breaths out between his teeth, which at once made the Electric-type look up, and stiffen up with a startled squeak.

    “Y-Yes, Herr Graf! We’ll see you to him right away!” the Raichu squeaked. “B-But… uh… as for your Corvisquire companion…”

    “She will be attending as well given that the summons was directed to all Pokémon from my Fähnlein of Stabsofficier rank,” Lacan harrumphed. “Now, are you two going to bring us along, or am I going to need to see ourselves in?”

    The two guards audibly gulped, the Haxorus subconsciously shrinking back as the Raichu stepped forward and motioned for the Salamence to follow after them.

    “R-Right this way, Herr Graf,” the Raichu insisted. “It’s just a short walk to His Majesty’s quarters from here.”

    Finally. Lacan just hoped that the welcome they’d received wasn’t a portent for how their audience with King Siegmund was going to go.



    “I’ll say, I wasn’t expecting you to want to be tutored this move of all things.”

    Lyle let his eyes drift around and take in his surroundings. He was in a chamber with thick, bare concrete walls and a circular aperture where a heavy door apparently had once been. Tubes of ancient resin hanging from the ceiling that had been filled with Luminous Moss bathed the space in cool blue light. He certainly didn’t expect there’d be something like this just off the street from a city street as crowded as Arsenal Avenue, perhaps it was once an armory or some sort of treasure room?

    Whatever this place used to be, the Rotom and the Joltik were putting it to other purposes these days. On either end of a wooden block sitting in the center were simple, large wooden stools to sit on. Ones which in spite of their construction looked sturdy enough to hold even the likes of Sheriff Mack on them. Off on the end of the chamber opposite from the circular entrance, there were lanes in front of sandbags heaped up against the wall, along with what looked like dolls of Pokémon sitting in front of them. If they were anything like the last Move Tutor Lyle had visited, they were Substitutes, likely bought off a more enterprising Ditto judging from their sheer variety of forms.

    That time, he’d been tutored Will-O-Wisp by a Porygon who ran a shop not too different from this one. It should’ve been a happy moment for him, especially since he was spitting fire hot enough to burn consistently in a matter of days afterwards. Except, that moment had come back in those awkward first weeks after he was thrown out of his family’s home and had to turn his fellows on the Foehn Gang to take their place.

    “Quilava, are you alright? You’re kinda spacing out right now.”

    Lyle blinked and snapped back to attention to see Watt giving him a sidelong glance. Right, those two had a business to run and he and the rest of Team Forager needed to make this tutoring quick if they were going to make it to those marketplaces across the river.

    “Yeah, I’m fine,” he told the Joltik. “It’s just that the last time I was tutored through a tay-emm, it was a bit disorienting.”

    “Well, it is a bit of a surprise to discover the powers that slumber within one’s natural Ether,” Amp explained. “But if you’ve already been tutored once before in this fashion, you’ll probably find this session a bit easier.”

    … “Ether”? Lyle vaguely remembered the Porygon also mentioning something about it when he was learning Will-O-Wisp. He knew he’d heard the term for medicines like those Max Elixirs that Pokémon sometimes drank when they were feeling worn down, though one of his old comrades had explained that it was also technical jargon among Move Tutors for the energy within Pokémon that allowed him to do things like wield his fire in battle.

    Maybe it’d make sense to ask Dalton after this if the two were related somehow. That had to be something that Pokémon would learn about in a university, right?

    A loud crackle rang out, as Lyle briefly caught the Rotom diving into the tay-emm reader. Like out on the table outside, the device took on its orange sheen before Amp sprang it open. Except, Watt wasn’t there on the wooden block anymore.

    The Ghost-type floated in place for a moment, as scuttling and shuffling came from the floor. Lyle peered over the block, just in time to see Amp’s Joltik assistant coming back with an orange disc in a cracked sleeve made of ancient resin with a few lines of faded runes on it. It was in a strange script he couldn’t read, except it looked vaguely familiar to the strange runes they’d seen in Team Pathfinder’s handbook. The Joltik set the sleeve down on the wooden block and turned his attention to four particularly large runes near its top. There was a moment of silence, before the Joltik glanced up to meet Lyle’s gaze.

    “You’re sure you want to learn this move, right?” Watt asked. “Since if my memory serves me right, your kind normally learns this move naturally not long after evolution. I mean, the customer’s always right in the end, but we can’t exactly refund a move tutoring service if you’re not satisfied with the result.”

    Lyle paused briefly and thought the matter over. Most of the tay-emms that Amp and Watt said he’d be able to pick up hadn’t sounded that impressive. He supposed there was that Wild Charge tay-emm they had, but using that technique that was supposed to hurt its user in the process. He considered Brick Break for a while since it would’ve certainly helped in fights like the one with that damned Tyrantrum, but with his stubby Quilava arms and a fighting style he’d practiced for years that worked best bobbing and weaving away from his foes… he decided to stick with strengthening the skills he had.

    After all, it wasn’t like evolving was going to be some magical cure-all for his life right now…

    “I’ll have bigger problems to worry about after evolving than when I pick up a move or two,” the Quilava grunted. “I might as well get some extra practice in while life’s still less complicated.”

    Watt cocked a brow curiously, before Amp raised a tendril to cut him off. A faint click rang out as a metallic cord telescoped out from under the sheath of the device Amp was indwelling. Lyle blinked and stared puzzledly for a moment. He opened his mouth to ask what the cord was, before the Rotom raised a tendril and gave a brief, buzzing chirp in reply.

    “As you said earlier, Watt. The customer’s always right. No sense in questioning something he’s got his mind set on,” Amp remarked. “Though let’s get right to things, Quilava. Just keep your eyes focused on the light. The tutoring process will only take a minute.”

    “Literally,” Watt chimed in. “It takes about a minute for a tay-emm to imprint on a Pokémon’s Ether and alter it. So sit tight and stay focused.”

    Lyle breathed in to calm himself and watched as Watt slid the disc into the reader Amp was indwelling. The Move Tutor leveled the reader out against the wooden block and gave the orange plate a tentative spin, before stopping to poke his head out from the reader’s confines.

    “Just try not to blink too much while it’s reading,” the Rotom remarked. “I assume you already had it explained to you last time, but for this process to work optimally, your eyes need to be open.”

    Amp slipped back into the reader as it spun to life and the tip of the cord took on a white light as it shone into Lyle’s eyes. Lyle fought every urge in his body to try and close them, instead keeping his attention trained firmly into the eerie light, as it blinked and strobed.

    It really was like the time he picked up Will-O-Wisp. He thought back to the day when he’d learned it, just after helping to fence their loot with Boss Gunther from one of the first jobs they’d done after getting kicked out from his home. Alvin had noticed his mood and helped spot him a few ill-gotten gains so that his stash could buy it. He insisted that “family is who looks out for you” and that there would be plenty of times for Lyle to pay things forward with his new move.

    … Not that there’d be any more chances to do so. Not while Alvin was likely about to be dragged aboard some gods-forsaken ship to be deployed across the sea, if he wasn’t out on the water already.

    The light abruptly vanished and things went dark. Lyle pinned his ears back and blinked to adjust his eyes to the change in lighting, watching as the disc in the tay-emm reader slowed to a stop. Amp clamped the reader shut and something seemed to loosen inside as Watt was able to remove the disc smoothly out. The reader then lost its orange color as the Rotom pulled himself free and floated into the air, zipping around Lyle’s head with a curious buzz.

    “Well? Aren’t you going to try out your new move, Quilava? Go on, light up those Substitutes over there!”

    Lyle turned as Amp pointed off with a tendril at a few things that looked vaguely like dolls of various Pokémon, including one that, much to Lyle’s annoyance, looked like a small, somewhat misshapen Floatzel. From the looks of how torn up the sandbags behind them were, he supposed that was one way to tell that the Rotom wasn’t just some huckster who parted fools with their money.

    Lyle shuffled off his seat and made his way over to a set of markers drawn onto the ground opposite the Floatzel Substitute and tried to clear his head. He thought back to when his father had helped his mother first practice Flamethrower herself. He’d said the trick behind it was a deep breath out, forceful like blowing glass for a bigger vessel like a pitcher, but with a sustained breath that kept the fire fed with air the entire time..

    It sounded simple enough, except for the fact that Lyle hadn’t blown through a glassblowing pipe in over three years. Still, it wasn’t as if he’d completely forgotten everything he’d learned, so it at least ought to help…

    There was only one way to know for sure.

    Lyle sucked in a sharp breath and felt the fire in his belly dance, hotter and stronger than he’d expected it to. He curled his mouth as if he were blowing through a pipe and breathed out. At once, a brilliant column of fire spewed out from between his lips towards the Floatzel Substitute as it bowled over and began to waver and deform in the fire.

    H-He was doing it! Blauflamme, he was really doing it-!”

    His breath suddenly hitched and he felt his innards abruptly flare up much like times when he accidentally swallowed his Embers. The Quilava’s eyes shot wide and he bowled over, coughing and wheezing as a few puffs of smoke came from his muzzle. He reared up, breathing in and out, pawing at his throat with a quiet groan as a crackling cheer alerted him to Amp approaching him from behind.

    “Hey! Six seconds! Not bad at all for a first attempt!” the Rotom insisted. “The way you kept the fire coming out consistently was pretty impressive, too! Have you been practicing to learn this move?”

    There was an awkward silence between the two. Lyle supposed that in a way, he had been practicing for it through the glassblowing techniques his parents taught him. Even if he didn’t want to think about it too much, much less mention it to a stranger.

    “No, I hadn’t,” he replied. “I haven’t gotten a chance to train for new moves in years.”

    Lyle headed off past Amp and Watt, and didn’t bother making eye contact as he left the circular doorway back for the dimly-lit hallway back to the shopfront. He retraced his steps through corridors lined with exposed and pitted concrete surfaces until he found himself back in the waiting room where the shopfront was. There wasn’t any sign of his teammates in the room and for a moment he started to grow uneasy, only to notice as his eyes adjusted to the evening light outside that they were waiting at the bottom of the steps.

    Figured. And here he was getting worried over nothing.

    The Quilava shook his head and made his way out of the open doorway, coming down to the stoop of Amp’s shop on all fours. His teammates turned their heads as he approached, with Kate flicking her ears with a teasing smirk.

    “Took you long enough,” she said. “I knew that you were a little out of things, but I thought I was the one that learned things slowly.”

    Lyle pinned his ears back and curled his mouth into a sharp frown. Maybe it was just the stress of the day getting to him, maybe it was the lingering discomfort from accidentally swallowing his own fire, but he didn’t need to deal with this right now.

    “Kate, move tutoring doesn’t work that way!” he protested. “I was barely in there for five minutes! That’s short for a tutoring session!”

    Kate rolled her eyes in response but otherwise didn’t contest the point. Lyle sighed and shook his head as he started to head off for the street, when he noticed Irune eying him with a curious tilt of her head and moving a finger up to her mouth.

    “... Wait, what did everyone choose to learn anyways?”

    Kate and Dalton traded glances with one another at the question. Now that Lyle thought of it, they never did tell him in advance what they planned on learning. They’d just split their money four ways and trusted each other to buy something they could afford with it.

    “Psycho Cut. Duh,” Kate spoke up. “I was never too good at taking a punch, so figured it’d be handy to have a move to deal with Fighting-types better.”

    “I opted for Rain Dance,” Dalton tsked, shaking his head in reply. “It’s one that I’ve wanted to learn for a while since it helps a number of other moves that I know.”

    Lyle bit his lip. Maybe he should’ve thought of learning something other than Flamethrower. Sure, it was a stronger move, but Kate and Dalton’s both sounded like ones that would catch enemies they’d fight more off-guard. He reared up and rubbed at the back of his head, before offering up his own explanation.

    “I went with Flamethrower,” he added. “I know it’s a bit basic, but it’d let me hit harder and be on the quicker side to get experienced with, so…”

    He could already see Kate raising her brow and Dalton bringing his good hand to his chin with an unimpressed stare. He’d take that as a sign they weren’t impressed with his choice.

    Except, Irune hadn’t said anything this entire time, and was starting to look flustered for some reason.

    “Though made you so interested?” Lyle asked “Did you pick up that X-Scissor that Joltik was trying to sell you on?””

    Irune hesitated for a moment, before pawing at her tusks with a quiet hem and haw.

    “I… er… went with Protect.”

    Lyle blinked and had to make sure he was hearing things correctly. Protect? As in the same move that ‘mons used to make shield formations in larger battles? But why would Irune go through the trouble of learning that all by herself? Dalton and Kate both seemed just as surprised as he was, and opened their mouths to speak.

    “Aren’t you a bit small to be effectively covering for anyone with that?” Kate asked. “And Protect’s most effective when multiple Pokémon use it together, just saying.”

    “Irune, you are aware that Protect doesn’t keep you from being pushed back by attacks, right?” Dalton added. “Just how hard do you think it’d be to knock a Pokémon your size around?”

    The Axew shrank back and visibly opened her mouth to retort, only to catch herself. Had she chosen a move without thinking it through herself? Or else what was the story behind that reaction of hers? She seemed to trip over her words briefly, before shaking her head and giving a defensive huff in reply.

    “I know that. But I’m not going to be little forever,” the Dragon-type insisted. “I guess I just wanted something in case I stopped being little sooner than expected. And I figured having a way to stop a strong attack if it came down to it would be helpful for if that ever happened.”

    Lyle shot a sideways glance at the Axew. She was hiding something, she had to be with the way she was acting and the way she’d reacted to him coming across her diary the night before. But… what?

    For that matter, why did she feel like she was on pins and needles trying to put her words together when answering them? Was she trying to avoid telling them a lie of some sort? For whatever reason, the Axew seemed like she was just unable to tell a convincing lie even if her life depended on it.

    … Then did that mean that was there something she was afraid of which she wasn’t telling them about?

    Gottverdammte Diebe!"

    Lyle flared up with a start at the sound of a bellowing roar from down the street and watched as his teammates turned their heads and the color visibly drained from their faces. Lyle glanced over his shoulder himself and felt his eyes shrink to pins as fire began to pour out from the vents on his head and tail:

    It was the Tyranitar from earlier, storming through the crowds visibly seething. The armored Rock-type leveled a claw as he neared, baring his fangs as sand billowed out from vents along his body.

    “Did you really think nobody else on the street would see you stealing from me?! Give me back my money!” the Tyranitar snarled. “Do it quickly and I’ll make sure there’s something left for the Gendarmen to punish when I’m done sorting you out!”

    Lyle froze out of fear as the Tyranitar stomped up close enough for the soldier’s shadow to fall over him. He looked aside, where Kate was similarly wide-eyed, before curling her face up into a forced smile.

    “J-Just saying, that could've been any Sneasel who stole from you!” Kate insisted. "It's a big city!"

    Lyle fought not to throw a paw over his face. Gods, if Kate was going to try and deny things, why’d she have phrase it like that?

    Lyle flinched as a weak electrical crackle rang out, and he turned to see Dalton had stepped between them as a weak arc of electricity broke off between him and the Tyranitar. The soldier’s eyes abruptly widened and staggered as Lyle noticed there was a small darkened mark just past the edge of the soldier’s chest plate and on his right arm. Lyle backed away uneasily as the Tyranitar growled and struggled to keep his balance as his limbs locked up,when he turned and noticed other Pokémon on the street all staring at them.

    Yeah, they really needed to get out of this district.

    “This way!” Dalton cried. “I know a shortcut we can use to shake him off!”

    Lyle needed no further prompting and dropped to all fours before he took off running after Dalton. Kate followed along, all but dragging Irune with her as they rounded a corner and into an alleyway as the Tyranitar’s shouts and those of a couple others rang out behind them. The broad, sunny avenue turned into a darkened alley where everything seemed to blur into one another. Lyle felt something whistle just overhead, and watched as a spray of stones flew just past his ears. He stumbled as his foot stepped on one of the rocks landing ahead, his legs gave out from under him as he stumbled and slammed into a plastered wall.

    The Quilava desperately got back onto his feet as he heard the Tyranitar lumbering along in pursuit. He felt an icy blast of wind from just beside him and turned left to see Kate had caught up with him and was spewing an Icy Wind down the alleyway. He looked back and briefly saw the Tyranitar wasn’t alone anymore and there were other figures in green armor recoiling from the chilling wind. His vents came to life in a panic and he spat up a plume of smoke before turning and running after Kate as fast as his limbs would carry him. He tore along down the alleyway, the walls and clutter all seeming to blur together until he heard a thumping noise just around a corner to the left followed by Kate’s voice.

    “Ah! They’re over here, Lyle!”

    Lyle felt a sharp tug on his scarf and skidded around the corner into a courtyard with a ramp filled with bins and sacks of trash that ran up against a dilapidated wooden grate. One of the horizontal boards looked broken at one end, with Irune and Dalton both frantically tugging at it as there was signs of some sort of darkened passage beyond the barrier. Dalton abruptly froze up and grasped at his splinted arm. Their eyes met briefly, before Dalton motioned at the loose board with a frantic pant.

    “There you two are! Help us get this board off!” he cried.

    Lyle froze briefly as Kate wedged her claws under the loose end of the board and pulled and the board flexed. The shouts were getting louder now. They didn’t have much time, time that he wasn’t sure was enough to get through these boards. Lyle bit his lip as his breaths came shallow and frantic when he noticed the end of board Dalton and Kate were tugging had chop marks on it and it was flexing more noticeably towards its midpoint. He turned his attention over to Irune, who was still hacking away at the other end of the board when it dawned on him:

    “Irune! Throw your tusks at the middle of the board!” he cried.

    She didn’t bother to question things and hurried over, throwing a pair of blows down at the flexing wood and leaving behind a two gashes as something cracked and the plank’s angle became uneven. Lyle stepped back, before lunging forward with a fiery tackle. His head hit the wood and he felt it give way as splinters and cinders danced around. He stumbled back and cradled his head as a loud clatter rang out. To his right was half the plank as Irune clambered up from the other and threw a chop of her tusk at it. The sound of splintering wood rang out as the shattered board broke and sagged to one end, leaving a visible gap in the grate. Dalton didn’t bother to wait, and clambered over, slinking through the hole and tumbling over it as he hurriedly got up just as the cries in the distance started to become distinct enough to make out.

    “Hurry up before they catch up with us!”

    Kate was the next to make her move and vaulted through the gap with a smooth jump. Irune went next and stumbled at the top, prompting Lyle to hurry over and steady her when a loud snarl rang out from behind.

    “There they are!”

    He didn’t even have to turn around to know it was the Tyranitar. Reshiram’s Fur, how did a ‘mon get over paralysis that quickly?! Lyle hurriedly shoved Irune through the hole and started to clamber through. He a loud crash cut him off along with a hail of splinters as something struck him in his rump. He fell through the hole and hit the ground facefirst as his senses briefly wavered. Lyle stumbled up and lunged ahead in a blind panic, his surroundings blurring into inky darkness. As he slowed back down from his Quick Attack, he began to see his teammates in the darkness and snatches of the world around him:

    Straight tunnels, patches of pitted concrete and tile with surprisingly open chambers. While distant, he could still hear the soldiers from outside and panted tensely as Kate turned to Dalton wide-eyed.

    “Scales, where on earth are we supposed to go now?

    “Down.”

    Lyle saw Dalton pointing off into the distance and saw there was some sort of flight of steps going down. He didn’t question it and took off along with his teammates for them. They were strangely large, as if they were intended specifically for the likes of a Machoke to climb, and seemed to just keep going down without end. After what felt like an eternity, they came across a long stretch of flat ground where the four ducked into an open doorway to their right.

    Lyle smothered his fire and stayed there, with nothing but the pounding of his heart and the winded breathing of his teammates to give them company in the darkness. After a few moments to regain his nerves, Lyle noticed that there were no other sounds coming from their surroundings, as he stooped down and pawed at his still-smarting rear.

    “Ugh, I always knew that Grünhäuter were a pain in the ass, but I could’ve done without one who took it literally-”

    He trailed off as the fire on his vents flickered back to life and he began to see his surroundings more clearly: it was a ruined wall that had separated wherever they were from a neighboring ruin.

    “H-Huh?!”

    Lyle steadied his fire and studied the wall closer and noticed it was made of a mixture of brick and concrete, a telltale sign that the ruin they’d stumbled into had been made by humans. Lyle motioned to his teammates as they retraced their steps out, saw from their footprints in the dust that they’d come from the left, and opting to continue further rightwards. The more distance they put between themselves and that soldier they robbed, the better.

    The tunnel went on a ways until they came across a fork that opened into a large, open chamber to their right, with a pockmarked white glyph against a blue background made of tiles in the wall. Lyle stared blankly as Dalton looked up at the glyph before shaking his head.

    “Just as I thought,” he said. “It wouldn’t have been my first choice for a way across the river, but we should be able to follow these tunnels past all the same. There should be a chamber where things open up just ahead.”

    Everyone blinked at Dalton’s explanation. There was no way that one glyph said all of that… right?

    “Scales, how on earth can you tell that just from a sign?” Kate demanded.

    “From past experience.”

    Lyle decided not to question it. Especially when the alternative was turning around and marching right back into that angry Tyranitar claws. He carried along with his teammates down the tunnel and started to notice what looked like ruined frames every now and then that had tattered images within them—ancient paintings of some sort, he guessed. There was one with fragments of a strange script that had a bunch of boxes set against a blue sky which looked vaguely like the towers of Administrative District, except they were mostly blue themselves. A little further down, there was an image of what looked like a Scorbunny waving from beside a yellow loop with three blue glyphs under it. Just past it, there was another image with a pair of red comets swirling in on each other on a black background above a line of grayish-white glyphs.

    Wait a minute. They’d seen that design before back in Primordial Woods. Then did that mean whoever built the ruins there also built these ones? That same design was also on Amp’s tay-emm reader. Did that mean the humans that built this place built that contraption, too?

    “We’re here.”

    Lyle snapped to attention and saw that his fire was now illuminating a large, cavernous space that he couldn’t see the other end of. He and his teammates stepped forward as the chamber’s contents came into view. There were ancient bridges, some standing, others partly-collapsed. Here and there, he saw flights of stony steps in various states of wear and decay making their way down to a set of raised platforms between trenches.

    It was like they’d come across a set of docks, except they were deep underground. If there had been any water here once, it was long gone, and there didn’t seem to be a shoreline that they connected to.

    Kate faltered a moment, and pinned her ears back warily. So it wasn’t just him who found this place strange and off-putting right now.

    “The hell is this place?” she asked.

    “The Undercity. These tunnels run underground beneath most of the districts of Newangle City, including the Administrative District,” the Heliolisk explained. “Nobody’s really sure what they used to be used for. They’re normally blocked off outside of dire circumstances such as sieges, and even in peacetime they’re not fully controlled thanks to those Mystery Dungeon entrances I mentioned a while back.”

    The Heliolisk trailed off and looked down the length of the chamber, as he seemed to drift in his thoughts for a moment.

    “When I was in university, some of my professors theorized they might have been a system of mines from before the Great Flash,” he explained. “Or a system of passageways for large human machines to pass through back when Newangle City used to be a human settlement.”

    That must’ve been one hell of a mine or system of passageways or whatever this used to be for tunnels this big to be dug down here. Why, this Undercity was almost a city unto themselves! If obviously much less lively and worse for wear than the one they’d left on the surface.

    Lyle flicked his ears after hearing a quiet grunt and turned to see Irune hop into one of the trenches. She gaped down its length for a moment, and Lyle followed after to try and see what she’d spotted. Perhaps her farsight had allowed her to see something, since when he checked the tunnels on either side for himself, all he could see was a deep darkness that seemed to go off into an infinite abyss.

    … He wasn’t sure that he liked this. Why, the only indication they weren’t in a Mystery Dungeon right now was the lack of fog to indicate they were passing through Distortion. He raised his eyes and saw Irune looking back at Dalton, nervously pawing at one of her tusks as she gestured off at the tunnel entrance in the distance.

    “Just how far are we supposed to go down this thing?”

    “Not far at all, or at least not in the grand scheme of things,” Dalton reassured. “We’re just following the tunnel until we come across the next chamber of this sort to the northwest. There’s another exit there that opens up on the opposite bank of the river from the Administrative District.”

    Huh. It wasn’t quite making their way across a bridge, but that still worked out well enough. There wouldn’t exactly be a picturesque sunset sky overhead, but it’d get them where they needed to, and without undue attention, to boot.

    … Except, something still felt off. Dalton seemed to have a tense air about him, even as he started clambering down the platform. He’d stop and scan his surroundings, as if he were double and triple-checking for the presence of traps in a Mystery Dungeon.

    “Is something wrong, Dalton?” Lyle asked. “You’re a bit on-edge right now.”

    There was a long pause, before the Electric-type trudged forward with a quiet shake of his head.

    “Just… stay on your guard,” the Heliolisk insisted. “These tunnels aren’t as lonely as they look.”



    Sophia had only heard about what the interior of Heldenschloss was like from what Lacan and others who had been inside had told her of it, which had made the journey from the gates most informative. The Haxorus and Raichu from the honor guards—Max and Raimond as she’d gathered—took her and Lacan past a set of double doors that opened out into a grand chamber which that had been furnished with gray, almost silvery tiling with white stone walls lining it along with a mural at the center with Reshiram on the left and Zekrom on the right. It was a scene depicting them locked in fierce battle above the Sundered Sea, with fire and lightning streaking across the background.

    A humbling reminder to all who saw it of the power their patron goddess and her rival had wielded throughout the ages.

    As they made their way deeper into the palace, Sophia quickly learned that the inhabited spaces of Dämmerungsturm weren’t all that different from the ones built in the other towers of the Administrative District. They were cavernous spaces that had been built for a time when lights of glass and ancient resin kept even deep catacombs awash in light at all times of the day, and been modified through the ages to form more manageably-sized rooms. Chunks of the floors had been cut away to let in shafts of light from the windowed exterior, but even then, there were still portions where torches and lanterns had to be pressed into service to try and fill the ancient lights’ absence.

    The entire journey would’ve been fascinating were it not for the crushing atmosphere that lingered around them ever since receiving the King’s summons. Just what on earth were she and Lacan supposed to say to King Siegmund? Lacan had notified Siegmund of the arrival of a secure caravan with the Dyad three days ago, and now they had nothing to show for it. She ruffled her feathers and felt her breaths coming tense and shallow.

    Keine Angst, Sophia. Es wird funktionieren, da bin ich mir sicher.ᴰ¹
    “Don’t worry, Sophia. Things will work out, I’m sure of it.”


    Sophia felt a nudge behind her and looked up to see Lacan nosing at her. She wasn’t sure how much she believed his attempt at a reassurance. She knew that Lacan’s late father had apparently been an accomplished Feldmarschall
    Abbreviated form of “Generalfeldmarschall”, or “General Field Marshal”. Historically one of the highest ranks attainable in a Germanosphere army.
    ₅ that King Siegmund and his own father were quite close to, but even through his helmet and mailed armor, the Salamence couldn’t hide a palpable sense of unease.

    Versuche einfach, dich von den Dingen abzulenken. Was auch immer passiert, ich bin bei dir. Für immer.ᴰ²
    “Just try and take your mind off of things. Whatever happens, I’m with you. Forever.”


    Sophia stiffened up at his last words. It was probably a slip of the tongue of his, but those words felt eerily similar to the ones he’d told her on that awful day when she’d received the news of her parents’ deaths back in her hometown. She noticed their guides pausing and looking back at them, before she shook her head and turned away with a low sigh.

    Erschrecken Sie mich nicht, indem Sie so reden, Lacan. Versuchen wir einfach sicherzustellen, dass Seine Majestät nicht in schlechterer Stimmung ist, wenn er uns um unseren Bericht bittet.ᴰ³
    “Don’t scare me by talking like that, Lacan. Let’s just try and ensure that His Majesty isn’t in a worse mood when he asks us for our report.”


    Really, managing His Majesty’s mood was about the best they could hope for right now.

    They continued on down a hall which was deep enough into the building to require illumination by lanterns. Amid the dim light, she noticed that all along the open portions of the hallway, there were paintings and tapestries hung up for display. A number of them were depictions of events from history and folklore that she’d read about in books or heard about in stories. There was the painting of the fabled construction of Angle City’s walls by Klaus the Founder. There were multiple scenes of battles from past ages, with the patron goddess of the land featuring prominently in many of them…

    And of course, there were the portraits, which after inspecting the labels more closely, she realized were of various monarchs from Varhyde’s history. There was a towering Samurott in a flowing white royal cowl with his blades drawn for battle: Agarez the Great of House Riese, who began the tradition of cladding the Administrative District’s spires and won resounding victories over Edialeigh by taking his foes unaware even as Wish and Reality made war with each other during his reign. There was a portrait of King Hogne not far away, who by a stroke of fate and parentage, closely resembled his ancestor in appearance. Hogne had the dubious distinction of being the last King of House Riese, which had been extinguished during the fabled Sack of Angle City thanks to the machinations of Edialeigh’s then-King Marveni.

    A sober reminder that even great glories could be undone by fate and a rain of ruinous lightning. And of the horrors that potentially awaited if their mission didn’t succeed.

    Sophia turned her head up just in time to see a portrait of a Gallade in a royal cowl with his arm-blades drawn and an air of pervasive self-confidence: Sansa the Godsly, the king who had built Varhyde’s modern military and was said among his contemporaries to be much like the Founder himself. Sansa was a contradictory figure, whose reign was marked by both great triumphs in building institutions like Varhyde’s Generalstab, along with great tragedy. After all, it was under his reign that gambles he’d made to secure a lasting peace for their land fell apart in a hail of consuming thunder as the opening salvos of war with Edialeigh broke out during the reign of their Queen Maynus.

    The same one which they were still struggling to conclude in the present day 70 years later, long after the two had passed away without heirs of their own to carry on their houses. There was a portrait of a Lucario in royal garb afterwards with the label ‘King Baanders’, and then one of an elderly-looking Mienshao. Sophia at first thought it was Siegmund’s, when she noticed that something seemed to be wrong with his body and stopped in front of the portrait briefly:

    There weren’t any battle scars on it. Sophia double-checked the label under the portrait and blinked after seeing the runes: ‘Waels Lucarios of House Baanders’.

    She supposed that would explain the discrepancy—the portrait was of King Siegmund’s father.

    “Hrmph, I didn’t expect that sort of brushwork would be in a royal portrait,” Lacan scoffed. “I’m surprised that King Waels was satisfied with it as a finished product”

    Perhaps there was more to the portrait that was wrong than she’d noticed. Sophia continued on with Lacan down the hallway as she stole a glance back at the late king’s portrait. Waels had passed on shortly before Benzen Revolt, before the tide of war last turned to bring Edialeigh’s armies back to Varhyder soil. Before thrusting the kingdom into crises that Siegmund had spent much of his early reign digging out from, including through campaigning on the battlefield himself.

    The same changing of the tides that had claimed Lacan’s hometown and left it a still-hobbling shell of its former self, along with both their parents, and untold comrades over the years.

    Sophia shook her head and tried to push the thoughts from her mind. Every time she dwelled on them for too long, it just took her to worrisome places that made her wonder how much more she could bear. She briefly noticed the Raichu’s up ahead twitching his ears when she raised her head and noticed there was some sort of noise coming from down the hall: rumbling chiming, which formed a coherent melody.

    She stopped as Lacan seemed to blink in surprise for a moment, but otherwise seemed unfazed. What was going on?

    “Lacan, what’s that sound?”

    “It’s an ancient instrument made out of pipes. An ‘organ’, I believe it’s called,” he explained. “King Siegmund was fond of them even back when I was a child, so he must be listening to someone giving him a performance.”

    Right when he was expecting them for a summons? Sophia supposed that their arrival had been on short notice… would he be upset with them interrupting things? Strangely enough, the Haxorus and Raichu traded glances with one another, before the Dragon-type of the pair turned back with an uneasy paw at the back of his helmeted head.

    “Actually… I’m pretty sure that’s him playing that ‘organ’ thing right now,” the Haxorus said. “Though the door to his chamber’s waiting room just up ahead, Herr Graf.”

    The King was able to play a human instrument? Sophia supposed that his body’s general shape as a Mienshao was supposed to be similar to the ones humans were supposed to have, but it still surprised her. What on earth did this ‘organ’ look like?

    Lacan himself quirked a brow at the pair, as they took the last few steps up to the entrance of the King’s quarters. It was a pair of doors with white and gray designs where a Beartic and Golurk in armor stood guard. Both of which sported segments that audibly rattled with the sound of mail whenever they moved, while some others appeared to be entirely made of metal. The Raichu and Haxorus hailed the pair and after a brief exchange of words, the guards opened the doors.

    Sophia carried in along with Lacan and sucked in a sharp breath, unsure what she’d find on the other end. She stepped out into a spacious chamber that was aglow with the warm tones of candlelit lanterns. In front of them was a low table set out ringed by white cushions, along with a few bookshelves set up against the walls, lit up by a wall of tall, striplike glass letting the last rays of sunlight filter through them.

    The floors and walls were covered with wood and stone paneling and flooring built over the ancient steel and concrete underneath. Why, it reminded her more of the stories Lacan had told her when they were younger of what his parents’ manor in Port Velhen used to be like than a human ruin over a thousand years old.

    She supposed that the emphasis on white and gray didn’t hurt that feeling either. After all, this palace had originally been built for Varhyde’s Heroes and not its kings. And it was a reminder to all who entered this place that it was the quarters of Pokémon whose duty was to pursue and long after the same truths as her patron goddess.

    She peered out past the windows as she and Lacan neared the table and its cushions and saw that a wooden balcony had been built out onto the exterior. Based on its construction, it appeared to be a much more recent addition to the ancient structure that had fashioned by Pokémon. Perhaps it was a perch of some sort? King Siegmund surely couldn’t fly, but such a vantage point would give him a commanding view of his kingdom, or else the stars and auroras of the night sky.

    Sophia fidgeted her wings and looked over at her Salamence companion. He looked impatient, and moved his tail back and forth as he frowned at their Raichu and Haxorus guides.

    “We were told the king wished to see us immediately,” he said. “Is there a reason in particular why you’re not taking us directly to him?”

    “Max and I will inform His Majesty of your presence, Herr Graf,” the Raichu insisted. “Just… please just wait here patiently. There’s been a lot on the King’s mind lately and I don’t know how he’ll react if you go about rooting about his quarters.”

    Sophia uncomfortably ruffled his feathers. She wasn’t sure if that was a good sign for what their summons was going to be like. Lacan raised a brow, before settling on a set of cushions by the table with a low grumble.

    “Fine,” he grunted. “Just don’t keep us waiting long. I doubt His Majesty summoned us to idle about in his quarters.”

    The two guards saluted and slipped out of the room and past a doorway to the left. Lacan hung his head, pawing at his snout with a forepaw with a low sigh. Sophia supposed that with the news they had to bring before King Siegmund being… unenviable, that it’d be best to avoid imposing himself if at all possible. Even so, she couldn’t help but be curious…

    “How do you know King Siegmund so well, Lacan?”

    “He was a benefactor of mine while I was living in Errberk Village, so I've seen him a bit more often than a Pokémon of my station normally would,” the Salamence explained. “He and my father knew each other in life, and I suppose he just wasn’t comfortable seeing the child of a close friend of his fall through the cracks.”

    Lacan trailed off, before hanging his head with a low sigh.

    “I just don’t know how much that will be on his mind today,” he said. “I’m not the helpless child I used to be, and I can’t imagine that the King doesn’t have higher expectations of me now.”

    Sophia supposed that it would only make sense. Prior to them winding up on Fähnlein Stärke, Lacan had already built up a fairly impressive string of accomplishments in battle as an Oberst. To the point where he had been brevetted as a General in his last campaign before that wing injury sent him home.

    Sophia wasn’t sure how either of them would be able to give the King a satisfying explanation. Four days after finally having the great hope of Varhyde in their grasp after a year of pursuit, and they were really supposed to tell him that they’d lost her to an Outlaw raid of all things? And that was before getting into some of the more concerning reports that their colleagues had turned up from Errberk Village:

    The Dyad’s elements were beginning to manifest more frequently. And as such, it meant that the window of opportunity for fielding her as part of Operation Spark was closing—far quicker than her, Lacan, or anyone involved in Operation Spark’s planning had expected.

    She knew not what would become if that window closed before they were deployed for Operation Spark, but she prayed that they never had to find out.

    Sophia turned her head when she noticed that the rumbling, chiming music was still playing in the background. Across the table, Lacan looked about the chamber uneasily, before rising to his feet and shuffling forward with a low grunt.

    “Hrmph, how long does it take those two to inform the King of our arrival?” he murmured.

    Sophia turned her head as Lacan made his way over to the door. She got up, only for him to put a claw on the door.

    “Stay here, I’ll handle it,” he said. “And if the King isn’t in a good mood… well, it’d be better for a familiar face to try and ease him out of things.”

    Sophia paused and shot a worried glance over. The Salamence seemed to carry an uneasy aura about him. Was it really wise to just let him continue on?

    “Lacan, are you sure that will be okay?”

    “I’ll be fine, I’m sure of it,” he said.

    The Salamence pushed the door open and stepped in. Sophia briefly heard voices on the other end before the door closed shut after his tail. The music trailed off and abruptly stopped as voices faintly carried on through the walls.

    Sophia sat and fidgeted in place uncomfortably only to notice that the voices were louder than she expected. She noticed that the door to the King’s chamber was ajar. It was the height of foolishness, but what if Lacan was in trouble right now? Didn’t he deserve to have an advocate by his side?

    She got up and quietly made her way towards the door, creeping over as she began to make out the voices coming from within more clearly.

    “... I wasn’t aware you had an organ in your quarters, Your Majesty,” Lacan said. “Let alone that you’d become so proficient at playing it.”

    “It’s the same relic I used to play at the Royal Reliquary,” an elderly, yipping voice remarked. “I merely had it moved to my quarters so that I could use it easier.”

    All of a sudden, a gust of wind came from within and blew the door out. It struck Sophia in the side of her beak, prompting her to hop back with a startled caw.

    And then the second voice spoke up again.

    “Whoever’s out there, if you are going to eavesdrop you might as well come in and show yourself.”

    Sophia grimaced and set her beak on edge before falteringly pulling the door open. She came across a room that had a large bed set out—One with a proper mattress and white sheets. To her right were more of those strip-like windows with the balcony running past, left open to let in light along with the wind that had given her away. Furniture and decorations hugged the walls: a dresser, a table with a mirror with a portrait of a vaguely melancholy Incineroar in a white cape.

    Gods above, she thought that she’d been listening in on a parlor of some sort, not the King’s sleeping quarters! She grudgingly turned off to his left where there were Lacan and their guards, along with the form of an elderly Mienshao in a white cape seated on a wooden bench. Behind him was some manner of metal contraption with pipes that stuck upwards and a set of appeared to be white and black levers, along with a small wooden obelisk with a metal rod that stood up in its center.

    Sights which would’ve been fascinating to behold were the King of the whole realm not staring her down with a stern frown. She noticed that Lacan’s face looked visibly pale, as he stepped out before the Mienshao and bowed his head with a flustered stammer.

    E-Eure Majestät, verzeihen Sie die Indiskretion meines Untergebenen. Es gehört zu ihrern Aufgaben Informationen zu sammeln und-ᴰ⁴
    “Y-Your Majesty, forgive my subordinate’s indiscretion. It’s a part of her duties to gather information and-”


    “Let’s not stand on ceremony, Graf. These are serious matters which are best discussed in frank language,” the Mienshao said. “Your subordinate carried out her duties by heeding my summons. Even if it’d have been more convenient to have received earlier notice of your arrivals.”

    Sophia blinked and watched as Fighting-type’s stern gaze turned towards Raichu and Haxorus guards. The pair noticed the Mienshao’s expression, before letting out startled yelps.

    “W-We insisted that they wait for you in your waiting room,” the Haxorus said, nervously pawing at his chest plate. “But-”

    “Enough,” the Mienshao said, motioning for a stop with an arm covered in sleeve-like wisps of fur. “My summons have been fulfilled, even if it was not fully in the fashion that I wished. Herr Maxax
    Haxorus
    ₆, Herr Raichu, you two are dismissed. We’ll have more to discuss about your performances later.”

    The two guards looked back at the Mienshao king, before hurriedly saluting, paws out and then drawn towards their hearts, before taking their leave from the quarters. She could hardly fault their reactions. Siegmund had a reputation for being slow to anger, but ruthless when stirred to parcel out retribution, and the guards were clearly keen on leaving while they were in they were still in his good graces.

    Sophia froze as the Mienshao approached her with a skeptical gaze as Lacan quietly made his way beside her. Siegmund shot an askew glance between her and the Salamence, before speaking up.

    “So this is that Oberstleutnant of yours whom you spoke of, Graf Lacan,” he said. “I’ll admit, I was expecting someone a bit more… experienced-looking.”

    Sophia hurriedly saluted and sucked in a sharp breath as the Mienshao looked at her. Lacan seemed to be fumbling with his words as Siegmund cut him off with a low grunt and folded his arms.

    “... I gathered from your lack of communications that the Dyad managed to escape during transport,” he said. “Is she still well at the moment?”

    “She is. Or at least she was as of at least four hours ago, Your Majesty,” Sophia said. “We had been following her trail and it led us here.”

    “... Into Newangle City?

    “Your Majesty, I realize that it sounds… improbable, to say the least,” Lacan answered. “We did indeed track the Dyad through the East Gate of the capital.

    There was a long, lingering silence between the three of them. Sophia studied Siegmund’s expression to try and gauge his mood, but his expression remained guarded and hard to place. The Fighting-type looked over at Lacan, before narrowing his eyes briefly and giving a sighing shake of his head

    “I’m afraid that I must ask you to remain patient with me a bit longer, Frau Kranoviz,” he said. “There are some matters which I need to discuss with your superior on a personal basis.”

    That did not sound remotely promising. Why was the King being so evasive? Was Lacan in trouble right now? Sophia jolted upright, before raising a wing in stammering interjection.

    “I-If it’s something involving the needs of our mission, surely I-”

    “Will be able to discuss those matters at length. Afterwards,” Siegmund replied. “I would kindly ask you to keep your curiosity in check this time. I’m sure Graf Lacan will inform you of whatever he deems necessary for your mission to succeed.”

    She wasn’t sure what to make of the King’s tone. It sounded understanding at least, but it gave a distinct impression that he was warning her somehow. Sophia lowered her wing and glanced over at Lacan. He seemed to be at a loss for what was going on himself, but at the very least King Siegmund still expected them to return to their mission after this?

    Frau Kranoviz, I don’t mean to be impatient, but would you kindly take your leave?”

    Sophia looked up to see the Mienshao king giving a frowning glance at her. She ruffled her feathers and turned for the door, briefly glimpsing as the Mienshao made his way for a door to a wooden balcony and motioned with his paw at Lacan to follow.

    “It has been a while since we last met, Graf,” the Fighting-type said. “We have much to discuss, and we might as well do so someplace with more space.”

    Sophia couldn’t help but feel a lingering unease about her as she drifted out the door of the King’s quarters and let it close behind her.

    Just what were the two going to talk about, and why didn’t the King want her to know about it?



    Author’s Notes

    Words and Phrases:

    1. Agarezpalast - “Agarez’s Palace”
    2. Heldenschloss - “Heroes’ Palace/(Unfortified) Castle”
    3. Kaplan - “chaplain”
    4. im Generalstab - “on the General Staff”, a traditional appending to the rank of a military officer with membership in such a body in a Germanosphere army, especially in Prussia.
    5. Feldmarschall - Abbreviated form of “Generalfeldmarschall”, or “General Field Marshal”. Historically one of the highest ranks attainable in a Germanosphere army.
    6. Maxax - “Haxorus”

    Dialogue:

    D1. “Keine Angst, Sophia. Es wird funktionieren, da bin ich mir sicher.” - “Don’t worry, Sophia. Things will work out, I’m sure of it.”
    D2. “Versuche einfach, dich von den Dingen abzulenken. Was auch immer passiert, ich bin bei dir. Für immer.” - “Just try and take your mind off of things. Whatever happens, I’m with you. Forever.”
    D3. “Erschrecken Sie mich nicht, indem Sie so reden, Lacan. Versuchen wir einfach sicherzustellen, dass Seine Majestät nicht in schlechterer Stimmung ist, wenn er uns um unseren Bericht bittet.” - “Don’t scare me by talking like that, Lacan. Let’s just try and ensure that His Majesty isn’t in a worse mood when he asks us for our report.”
    D4. “E-Eure Majestät, verzeihen Sie die Indiskretion meines Untergebenen. Es gehört zu ihrern Aufgaben Informationen zu sammeln und-” - “Y-Your Majesty, forgive my subordinate’s indiscretion. It’s a part of her duties to gather information and-”

    Teaser Text:

    Newangle City, 15. Herbstmond, 1027 n. d. B.​

    To whom it may concern,

    By royal decree of King Siegmund von Wahrheit, the recipient of this letter is hereby ordered to instruct all subordinates under their command to stand by for the arrival of any parties from Fähnlein Stärke of His Majesty’s army and to relay news of their arrival at once to His Majesty and His Generalstab.

    Any representatives of Fähnlein Stärke from enlisted ranks are to be kept at the gates and notice served to His Majesty’s Generalstab to dispatch an emissary to meet them and review any news and findings in a secure environment. Should a representative of Stabsoffizier rank appear at your gates, you are to direct him or her to appear before His Highness for a royal audience effective immediately at his residence in Heldenschloss.

    You are to defer to whatever requests those representatives may ask of you upon your arrival not pertaining to their summons. Their affairs of Fähnlein Stärke pertain to matters regarding the security of the realm and its war effort, and should be assumed to have His Majesty’s blessing.

    Any attempts to impede His Majesty’s decree will be grounds for being treated as insubordination against the Royal Army and punished accordingly.

    - Urgent dispatch from König von Wahrheit, Siegmund Wieshus relayed to the Wehrturmhauptmännerᵃ of the Newangle City Walls

    a. Plural of 'Wehrturmhauptmann', or a 'Hauptmann' that would watch over a Wehrturm. Such word compounding which is common practice for word formation in German.
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter 22 - Desire
  • OaT_Ch22_Final.png


    Die Geschichte von Wahrheit und Ideale als Königreiche existierte lange Zeit im Schatten der vielen Auseinandersetzungen zwischen Wunsch und Wirklichkeit. Und doch bleibt es bis heute ein Rätsel, warum Wunsch und Wirklichkeit auf ihren Wanderungen nach dem Glühenden Blitz so nahe beieinander liegende Länder zum Wohnen auswählten. Ihre genauen Begründungen sind inzwischen verloren gegangen. Einige vermuten, dass es das Schicksal der beiden ist, sich im Laufe ihres Lebens näher zu kommen, während andere vermuten, dass der Glühende Blitz einfach zu einer Zeit stattgefunden haben könnte, als sie beide von ihrer ursprünglichen Heimat entfernt und nahe beieinander waren.

    Wie unsere Schutzgöttin wählte der Gott, den wir Wunsch nennen, einen Helden und half dabei, ein Königreich nach ihrem Geschmack zu gründen. Königin Galea, die zusammen mit dem Gott, der ihr beistand, das Königreich von Ideale inmitten der Ruinen einer Stadt des Lichts gründete, die einst der Standort der legendären „Illumina“ gewesen sein soll. Ein Ort, den die Bewohner des Landes der Wahrheit heute Donnerturmstadt nennen.

    Auch wenn es in dieser Stadt Orte gab, die Wunsch als Schlafplatz gefielen, heißt es, dass es letztlich ihre Wünsche und ihre Stärke an Idealen waren, die ihn dazu brachten, Galeas Bitten zu folgen, um unsere unruhige Welt in eine zu verwandeln, die ihrer Meinung nach besser für ihre Bewohner war. So starke Wünsche, dass manche sagen, sie hätte es für angebracht gehalten, dem ein Ende zu setzen, wenn die Welt sie zurückgehalten hätte.

    Niemand weiß, wie wahr diese Geschichten sind, aber sie sind auf jeden Fall glaubwürdig, wenn man bedenkt, was über Wunsch und diejenigen, die er als seine Helden in der Geschichte ausgewählt hat, überliefert ist. Besonders angesichts der großen Gewalt, die dieser Drache von Reines Schwarz über uns und unserem Land von oben herab verübt hat.

    - Auszug aus »Die Wahrheiter Chroniken – Eine kurze Geschichte der frühen Jahre unseres Königreichs«




    Lacan held his head up stiffly as the clatter of sliding wooden partitions rang out and the wall in front of him slid aside at the tug of the King’s paw to reveal a wooden balcony outside. The King stepped out, and after a moment to suck in a breath and steel his nerves, Lacan followed after him into the brisk air.

    The balcony was simple, but well-hewn in construction, and wide enough for just about any Pokémon on land to comfortably fit on it. Function had evidently been prioritized over form, with the timbers feeling sturdy underfoot but bearing few decorations barring a Drachensiegel here or there carved into the wood just below the railing.

    The sun was already starting to set, as burnt orange hues reflected off the river bounding the Administrative District to the north as stars began to twinkle in the skies above. Below, they were mirrored by the lights of countless lanterns and candles in the windows of the city below sprawling out to its circular walls and the ten towers that anchored it. In more normal circumstances, Lacan would’ve been content to just look out over the scene and bask in its wonder.

    But things weren’t normal right now. The Mienshao’s frown at the corner of his mouth made that much obvious, even as he kept his gaze turned away and glanced out over the surrounding cityscape.

    “I was hoping you’d have something to show me for your efforts, Lacan,” Siegmund said, still looking away. “Especially after you passed word of finally intercepting the Dyad just three days ago.”

    Lacan quietly grimaced. There had been times in the past when the King had received him warmly, much as if he was his flesh and blood…

    But none of that warmth was there today, and Lacan could hardly fault him. After all, this wasn’t an occasion to prattle on about his recovery from the wounds he’d sustained prior to his assignment to Operation Spark, or about the paints he dabbled with in simpler times much like his father had.

    They were there to talk about how for the third time in a year, he had grasped the fate of Varhyde’s future in his claws only to have nothing to show for it.

    “Your Majesty, I’m not one to make a habit of making a fool of myself,” the Salamence said, lowering his head apologetically. “I would not have come here to the capital if the Dyad’s trail had not taken me here.”

    The weasel’s expression grew guarded and serious. It was hard to imagine he thought much of excuses, much less coming from a noble of middling rank such as himself. The very fact that he was here addressing the King in person was a privilege that Grafen rarely enjoyed in Varhyde, especially ones without accomplishments to their name like his father.

    It was likely because of his father that he had this opportunity with Siegmund, and he would be a fool to squander it by making the King believe that he took it for granted.

    “I understand your apprehension, Your Majesty. But the fact that the Dyad came here not even a night after fleeing Primordial Woods makes me believe she won’t leave right away,” Lacan insisted. “She and the ruffians with her fled Errberk Village after they were caught stealing from a wagon, and they would need time to reprovision in a strange environment. Time which we can use to track her down.”

    “I still don’t understand how things came to this,” Siegmund sighed. “If she could have been persuaded to come quietly…”

    “As you’ve seen from the reports from our first few months pursuing her, our attempts to do so were unfruitful,” the Salamence said. “Somebody put her up to the idea that she couldn’t trust the power within her to the realm and to keep running away, and we’ve been dealing with the consequences of her stubbornness ever since.”

    Lacan braced himself as the Mienshao remained silent and kept his same, stony expression from the corner of his eye. He wasn’t sure whether or not he was persuading the King, or simply digging himself in deeper right now.

    He’d explained in an urgent dispatch after the debacle in and around Waterhead Cave that he needed what he hoped would merely be a few days’ more time to recover her. While King Siegmund would surely understand a delay of a couple days, being half the kingdom away from that backwater where those damned Outlaws had thrown his mission off-course was another matter entirely.

    … And yet, the fact that Siegmund hadn’t cut in yet wasn’t a bad, sign was it? Perhaps if he just explained why the Dyad had most likely come here, he’d understand…

    “That’s why I have reason to believe that the Dyad may want to linger here,” Lacan said. “It would appear that she is looking to better understand her true nature.”

    Siegmund turned his head warily to the side. He twitched his whiskers briefly before speaking up in a guarded tone.

    “And what gives you such confidence in your theory, Graf Lacan?” the Mienshao pressed. “After all, it’s already deeply surprising to hear that the Dyad would come here of all places.”

    “Observed behaviors,” he replied. “She picked up a pendant during her travels that she keeps with her, one that appears to be styled after a Diennesse Wedge.”

    The Mienshao jolted upright from the railing and shot an alarmed stare back.

    “A Diennesse Wedge?” he asked. “How on earth did she get that?

    “She didn’t. Hers is a cheap trinket made of painted stone, of the sort that might be sold as a protective amulet. A scratch test we conducted confirmed as much,” the Salamence explained. “The more important factor is that she’s been holding onto it and been trying to make her way to the Divine Roost at least since we apprehended her, and likely for much longer.”

    Lacan shook his head, before turning out towards the evening cityscape and letting his eyes fall over the warren of streets and buildings below.

    “The Dyad appears to have heard some of the lore regarding her true nature and is trying to piece those stories together,” he explained. “I believe that’s why she came here—to try and fill in more of those gaps. It’s the most likely thing that would motivate her to risk coming here instead of searching for a safer refuge for a fugitive.”

    Siegmund twitched his whiskers briefly, before leaning against the railing of his balcony with a low sigh.

    “I suppose it’s hard for me to contest your argument, Graf Lacan. The Diennesse Wedge isn’t exactly common knowledge outside of those who are well-versed in tales of the gods, in particular of its wielder,” he said. “Though there’s far from a singular place in this city where one could find such knowledge. So how do you narrowing down where the Dyad would seek out this knowledge, then?”

    Lacan … hadn’t worked that part out. And with the Dyad traveling in the midst of a band of companions, it wasn’t safe to assume that she’d be groping about blindly in Newangle City. The very fact that she’d made it into the city without being detected was strongly suggested at least one of them was familiar with it.

    He could see the skeptical glint in Siegmund’s eye. Even if Lacan was the type to blow hot air and prattle on with empty words, he doubted the King would have patience for it.

    Perhaps it was best to just be honest, even if it surely wasn’t what the King wanted to hear.

    “I suppose I’d start by trying to find places where the Dyad would be looking around in the first place,” he said. “After all, the answers that she seeks aren’t available in casual reading material. So she’d surely be asking others in this city about places where she could potentially find them.”

    “Yes, you could certainly do that, and with enough time and soldiers, you’d likely succeed,” the Mienshao replied. “Alternatively, you could steer her to a place where this material is already present.”

    The Salamence blinked in surprise and cocked his head with a puzzled frown. ‘Steer’ the Dyad? When he didn’t even know where she was in Newangle City to begin with?

    It wasn’t as if Siegmund had poor judgment, the Mienshao’s years of experience as a strategist were testament enough to that. Siegmund had helped draw up the campaigns to drive out Edialeigh’s armies during their last invasion, and personally campaigned on the frontlines to help achieve them—as the scars on the Fighting-type’s body beneath his white cowl attested.

    But even so, the Salamence was genuinely at a loss as to how Siegmund expected him to accomplish such a feat.

    “I’m… not fully sure how that would be possible at this point in time, Your Majesty,” he said. “What are you proposing that I should do?”

    “Well, Graf Lacan. Let me answer your question with one of my own,” the Mienshao insisted. “Did the Dyad come to the City alone? If not, tell me of these ‘ruffians’ she’s traveling with?”

    “Outlaw scum from the hinterlands as usual,” Lacan harrumphed. “With how frequently she’s been associating with such Pokémon this year, I’m starting to think that she’s developing a type.”

    Or at least as much as she could as a fugitive anyways. Much to Lacan’s surprise, the King’s expression visibly eased, and a small smile came over his muzzle.

    “I thought as much based on your past reports you sent me,” the king said. “Though that should speed things up considerably.”

    “How… so?”

    “I’m not privy to all the details, but the local Gendarmen have had contacts with Pokémon from similar circles in this city,” the Fighting-type explained. “It’s an arrangement that was first set up in King Sansa’s day and all these years later, it still sometimes provides valuable insight as to the goings-on of the more restive quarters of the city.”

    Lacan batted his wings subconsciously and glanced around his surroundings. Perhaps it was just reflex from the incident in Errberk Village, but it didn’t hurt to make sure that they weren’t being overheard. It was hardly his place to judge what King Siegmund found necessary to keep his realm secured. Not after much of his early reign had been spent clawing it back from red-clad hordes after a failed attempt at suing for peace. Even so, a part of him was startled to hear the King discussing such unsavory connections so frankly.

    Perhaps that explained why Siegmund insisted on having this conversation between just the two of them.

    “Get in touch with the Gendarmen and explain your situation. I’m sure that they’ll be able to lean on those contacts to steer these Outlaws towards mounting a heist in short order,” Siegmund instructed. “Was there any place in particular that you had in mind?”

    Where on earth would he even start? It wasn’t as if knew every bookshop in Newangle City that might have a dusty mythology tome buried somewhere on its shelves. Though… perhaps he was going about this all wrong. What he needed most was for the Dyad and her companions to reveal themselves and make mistakes. And the most likely sort of place where they would slip up in such a fashion would be one that was normally widely trafficked.

    A place like…

    “The Royal Library. I’m not sure if I’d want to have the Dyad come there while it’s open to the general public, but I know for sure there would be books she’d be looking for there,” he explained. “Considering how it’s a public institution trafficked by Pokémon from throughout the city, it’s likely she would’ve already considered it as an option.”

    Siegmund brought a paw to his chin in thought, before turning aside with a quiet nod.

    “Then do so, I will see that the Library is closed for however long you deem necessary,” Siegmund said. “Either those brigands will take the bait, or they’ll give away their location and we can deal with them accordingly. Though don’t leave anything to chance, be sure to have at least five Rotten
    "Plural of "Rotte", a name for various military units in the Germanosphere. Within the context of a Fähnlein, a Rotte is a small unit composed of 8-12 soldiers."
    ₁ of your soldiers there for the occasion.”

    Lacan jolted his head back with a startled blink. Five Rotten was a good quarter of the troops in Fähnlein Stärke. Troops that could otherwise spend time canvassing the city with local guards. What on earth was Siegmund thinking here?

    “Isn’t that an overly large force to center on a library?” he asked. “I was under the impression that the royal commission I was given allowed Fähnlein Stärke to requisition local assistance as needed. There isn’t exactly a shortage of Gendarmen that could do the task.”

    The Mienshao king narrowed his eyes briefly, much like how a master painter might scrutinize a disappointing piece by an apprentice. For a moment, Lacan reflexively opened his mouth to protest and offer a defense, only for the Fighting-type to motion for silence.

    “I trust that during your pursuit of the Dyad that you’ve been keeping up with current events to some extent,” Sigmund said. “Tell me, what have you heard during your travels regarding Operation Siegfried?”

    ‘Operation Siegfried’? Lacan hadn’t pried too much into the campaign since he’d heard hearsay about it, but…

    “That it was a campaign that captured a port town well behind enemy lines led by a recently-promoted General who transited his forces through a nearby Mystery Dungeon?” he asked. “I must confess that I’ve been a bit behind on news from the frontline lately.”

    “I wouldn’t expect you to, since barring a catastrophe, most of the details surrounding Operation Siegfried will remain crown secrets until well after my death,” Siegmund explained. “But the long and short of it is that Operation Siegfried was a feint to deflect attention from the route you and your supporting forces will need to take to reach Donaterm City.”

    Lacan blinked at the Mienshao’s response. A feint? He had heard that the war effort had been coming under increasing strain as of late, but for the King to already start setting things in motion for Operation Spark when he’d only had the Dyad at all just a few days ago…

    The frontlines must have been more precarious than he realized.

    “One of the secondary objectives of Operation Siegfried was to gauge what the cost would be in the event that the Dyad had to be recovered on Edialeigher soil,” he explained. “The exercise was carried out with a proxy target who… the Hofstaat hoped could potentially address some of the difficulties regarding my son.”

    Lacan caught himself and had to fight to keep himself from raising a brow. The Salamence hadn’t heard much about the Crown Prince in recent years, assuming that Siegmund’s son was even still the Crown Prince with some of the rumors that had swirled about him after Queen Anna’s death…

    Though where was Siegmund going with this? After all, he doubted the king had brought the topic to delve into rumors about his family life…

    “What was the conclusion of that exercise?”

    “That having to recover a Dyad under such conditions would bleed Varhyde’s armies white and risk returning the Kingdom to the chaotic state of affairs I inherited from my father,” he explained.

    Lacan bristled at Siegmund’s explanation. But everyone in Varhyde who was old enough knew of the times Siegmund alluded to. Of how not even a year into King Siegmund’s reign, the Benzen Uprising broke out at a time when the war in Edialeigh seemed to be stalemating.

    Town after town along the coast of Sundered Sea erupted into open revolt against the crown afterwards. Soldiers had to be pulled from the frontlines to try and quell the disorder, including his own father. The frontlines on Edialeigh’s soil collapsed because of it, and within the span of a year, Edialeigh’s soldiers in their red plates were laying waste to towns along the coast. Loyalist and rebel-held alike.

    Including his own hometown, whose persistent loyalty to the crown had not saved it from such a fate.

    Lacan didn’t want to believe that there were truly enough fools among the commonfolk who would risk repeating such a catastrophe. And yet, if history was any guide, King Siegmund’s fears were more than justified.

    “It goes without saying that it is paramount to avoid returning the realm to such circumstances, which is the entire reason why I approved Operation Spark,” the Mienshao insisted, shaking his head. “With how much trouble the Dyad has given you over the past year, it’d be the height of negligence for you not to err on the side of caution with apprehending her.”

    Lacan fell silent and turned aside. Even so, he dug in his claws. Yes, he understood the King’s argument. But at the same time, there was a critical oversight with the Mienshao’s plan:

    “I understand your concerns, Your Majesty. But even so, I must contest your strategy there,” the Salamence insisted. “I wouldn’t want all those soldiers present. Or at least not all outside the library.”

    Lacan watched as Siegmund twitched his whiskers puzzledly and eyed him keenly. The Dragon-type weighed his words in his mind, before he spoke up to explain himself in a rumbling voice.

    “After all, if the Dyad saw that many soldiers prowling outside the Royal Library, she would likely decide to try her luck elsewhere,” he explained. “It would be best to lure her inside and have those soldiers lie in wait to ambush her there. She’d be unlikely to make it out of the building, and even if it did, it’d buy time for the other units to converge and either apprehend her outside, or else follow her back to her hiding place.”

    Siegmund hesitated a moment, before letting a small, proud smile creep up over his muzzle.

    “You really do take after your father, don’t you? With a mind like that, I look forward to seeing the same White Wings about your neck, and you using your skills at the fore of this realm’s armies.”

    Lacan blinked a moment at the weasel’s words. The White Wings of a Feldmarschall? The pattern modeled after Reshiram’s wings and its attendant baton was the mark of the highest rank a soldier could have in the army, and granted its holder the rights and privileges of a high noble. A part of Lacan felt a swell of pride over the idea of being able to wear the same patterns as his father, an honor normally reserved for Generals who had managed feats such as capturing a major settlement in battle.

    But there would be plenty of time to daydream about honors after Operation Spark succeeded, and just its success would be a reward higher than any rank that could be bestowed:

    A chance to avenge all the destruction and misery that Edialeigh had left on this land. On his world.

    “Though is there anything else that you need for your mission?”

    Lacan studied the King’s expression carefully, even if they both understood how paramount Operation Spark’s success was, he wasn’t sure how the King would react to him asking for still more assistance.

    “There are a few tomes from the Royal Library that would be helpful to cross-reference for my mission. And obviously, extra bodies to help search for the Dyad,” the Salamence replied. “But we’d already be spending time around the Royal Library, and the issue of additional strength can be solved by assisting Gendarmen if need be. After all, considering how Fähnlein Stärke was formed to be a covert unit, working through proxies is probably the safer course of action to preserve Operation Spark’s secrecy.”

    The Fighting-type cocked a brow, before turning and facing him as his expression grew stern.

    “Really? Nothing at all?” the Mienshao asked. “Feldmarschall Kant was loyal to my father and I until the bitter end. It would be unbecoming of me to not repay it by extending such a favor to his flesh and blood.”

    Lacan stiffened up briefly and fidgeted his wings. It always made a part of him feel uneasy leaning on his father’s accomplishments to get things, especially when it didn’t feel like he’d properly earned them. King Siegmund had already given him no shortage of aid while growing up on account of his friendship with his late father. Just what on earth could he offer at this point?

    “Personal sentiment aside, you are in the Kingdom’s capital, Graf,” Siegmund said. “There’s certain resources that will be hard to access again once you leave it. If you can think of anything here that you think would materially help Operation Spark’s chances of success, by all means, tell me.”

    Lacan opened his mouth only to catch himself. There was one thing he could think of asking for, but the last time he’d brought it up with the Generalstab, he’d been brushed aside and told his concerns dealt with crown secrets.

    Well, he was here with King Siegmund himself, and if there was ever going to be an opportunity to ask…

    “I would like a chance to review any records regarding what transpired during Operation Avalanche,” he said. “In particular, if there were any from during King Sansa’s reign specifically dealing with how it reached its ultimate resolution.”

    Siegmund pulled his cowl tight around his body and narrowed his eyes. Lacan briefly bit his tongue, wondering if he’d perhaps been a bit too bold in his request. The specifics of what had happened in Operation Avalanche were murky, with the only agreement being that it had at once gone horrifically awry, while also helping to usher in the end of the Advent War. The war between Varhyde and Edialeigh before the one that raged in the present day.

    … No, Siegmund had asked him for anything that he needed. No matter how it made him look, he’d be a fool not to try and make the most of the Fighting-type’s offer.

    “I realize that it surely sounds presumptuous to ask for such a thing, but with how little of a margin for error we have, it would be best for me and my subordinates to know everything we have to know before we hit the sea,” he insisted. “A part of that would be understanding what went wrong with the Kingdom’s past attempt at securing and drawing upon the power of a Dyad like the one we pursue today.”

    The Mienshao stared at him wordlessly for a moment, before folding his arms with a dubious frown.

    “And you intend to accomplish all this while organizing a search for the Dyad at the same time?” the king pressed. “Isn’t that a bit much for you to shoulder alone?”

    “I’m well aware, Your Majesty,” Lacan said. “That was why it was my intention to dispatch my Oberstleutnant to review those records for me.”

    Siegmund seemed genuinely surprised by that comment. The Mienshao briefly looked through the windows, where Sophia was seated at the table in the waiting room at attention and worriedly stealing glances at her surroundings.

    There was a long silence, which Lacan thought to try and explain his rationale further. The moment he opened his mouth, the Mienshao frowned and shot a wary, sidelong glance from the corner of his eye.

    “And not assigning her to organize the search for the Dyad in your place as an Oberstleutnant? Are you sure about this, Graf Lacan?” the Mienshao pressed. “I understand that the Generalstab likely already provided you a truncated version of events, but there is a reason why you were instructed to be sparing about sharing details of Operation Spark and the things that would be needed to see its success through. As I’m sure you already know, the way the commonfolk would react to such details becoming known would be… unpredictable, to say the least.”

    “I’m aware, and Oberstleutnant Sophia is more than capable of shouldering such a burden. She’s been a dutiful member of the Ritter von Herbergau and a loyal subordinate for years,” the Salamence retorted. “She has gone above and beyond in her duties to the crown during this mission and long before it. I’d trust her with my life.

    Lacan didn’t realize how forceful his words were coming out until the ending enunciation reverberated in his ears. He bit the inside of his mouth and fought back a grimace. He’d always been quick to come to Sophia’s defense, but addressing the King in such a tone surely wasn’t helping his case.

    “Your Majesty, I-”

    “Have told me enough to make an informed decision.”

    Siegmund raised a paw for a stop, before brushing his cowl aside with a quiet click of his tongue.

    “Tell your Oberstleutnant once you go back inside to report to the Royal Reliquary effective immediately,” he said. “I will arrange for her to review whatever files can be gathered up there.”

    Lacan had to fight to keep his jaw from flopping open out of surprise. He supposed Siegmund did say to ask him for anything, but a part of him wasn’t sure how earnest the Mienshao was. Even so, there was a grave air about the Fighting-type, as he turned his snout up with a stern frown.

    “This isn’t a favor I grant lightly, Graf Lacan. Even if I admit that it’s motivated in part by personal sentiment,” he said. “If at all possible, I’d like to see you come home alive after Operation Spark to see the fruits of your and your father’s labor. To see what I wasn’t able to give Anna thanks to my cowardice and naivete when I was younger…”

    The Mienshao king trailed off as a wistful look came over his face, he turned and gazed out at the night sky and the sprawl bounded by the city’s circular walls below.

    “A realm that’s finally at lasting peace. One where Pokémon that dwell in it will never have to fear the capricious desires of the Pokémon across the sea in Edialeigh or their depredations,” Siegmund remarked. “One where Edialeigh’s crown and their so-called ‘City of Light’ from which it reigns from are but faded cinders and faded memories.”



    It’d been about an hour after Lyle and his teammates made their way northward from that strange chamber with the concrete platforms. Unlike the tunnels they’d gone through earlier, the ones around them right now were much wider, and somehow even more barren and desolate. Some of the tunnels’ walls and ceiling were pitted and looked much like they were parts of a natural formation, aside from a few chunks here and there that still had smooth sections of concrete. The ground was similarly irregular, with portions of the ground which were gouged with shallow pits and rises that were partly filled with stagnant water. And every now and then, Lyle swore he’d see a corroded metal bar lying around. Occasionally, there’d be a pile of rubble he and the others would have to climb over or snake around in whatever space remained—the leftovers of prior cave-ins. Not recent ones, he hoped.

    Their only companions the entire time had been the hums of the Wonder Orbs they’d occasionally been rubbing to make sure they were ready for use. More worrisome was how the entire time, they didn’t seem to be short on would-be foes. As they went down the tunnels, they’d occasionally hear sounds of movement in the distance or catch glimpses of eyes glowing further off in the darkness. On a couple occasions, they even ran into a Wilder that ambushed them. A Rattata here, a Voltorb there…

    “Skree!”

    Along the Zubat he just shot out of the air with a Flamethrower and left twitching weakly at the wall of the tunnel. Lyle braced himself in anticipation of more to come, since Wilder Zubat weren’t solitary creatures. Fortunately, nobody else came, and after a glance back at his teammates, he saw Dalton venturing ahead and motioning with a hand to hurry along.

    “That fight made more noise than I’d hoped,” the Heliolisk murmured. “We should get going before anyone else comes to investigate.”

    Music to his ears, really. Lyle quickly hurried along with his teammates and took his place back at the head of the group as they continued on deeper into the tunnel. He knew he’d heard of long tunnels made back in human times, but this one just kept going and going…

    That other chamber had to be close by now, right? The encounters he and his teammates hadn’t been particularly hard, but they were starting to take their toll. Enough so that they’d already had to stop once to distribute healing berries between themselves. It didn’t help that those ambushes seemed to always involve Pokémon that were just beyond Lyle’s sight from his body’s fire. Oftentimes, their only warning was just a growl or the sound of pattering footsteps right before being attacked.

    “How much further do we need to keep going like this?”

    Lyle turned his head back towards Irune and saw her clinging tight to Kate with a nervous gulp. He would’ve thought that she’d be able to see better than him with her farsight, but even so, she seemed to be visibly rattled. Kate looked down at her with what seemed like a twinge of pity, and briefly patted the Axew’s head before turning to Dalton.

    “Scales, you’re the guide here,” she said. “Are we there yet?”

    Why was Irune so rattled at the moment anyways? Was it because they were quite literally in the dark right now? Or was something else weighing on her? He started to pace toward her as Dalton brushed past him and went deeper off into the tunnel. The Heliolisk went ahead a few paces, when he paused and studied the tunnel lit up by the glow of Lyle’s fire.

    “Almost. We should be entering the remains of another chamber like the one we were in earlier,” Dalton said. “Once we get there, there should be some steps up on the right that will take us back up to the surface across the river from the Administrative District.”

    Lyle hoped that getting out of the place wasn’t also going to be a pain in the ass, but he supposed that it was nice knowing that they’d see the sky again soon enough. He carried on as Dalton studied the wall briefly and walked along its length, running a hand along it when the Heliolisk suddenly stumbled. Lyle flared up and hurried over as Dalton sharply pulled his foot back. Gottverdammt, another Wilder? It was some sort of crustacean that had an Occa Berry’s color with a flash of cream on its underbelly. Wait, those claws, that fan-like tail, it was-!

    “Gah, there’s Corphish down here, too?!” Kate cried.

    Lyle jumped back and arched his body, as his teammates took battle positions. Except… the Corphish just kept staring off blankly into the tunnel, fixed and unmoving. Lyle crept forward and sniffed at the Corphish, only to realize that it didn’t smell anything like one. He snuck up and gave a wary poke at it when discovered that it wasn’t hard to the touch. It was like it was a doll, or…

    “A Substitute?” he murmured.

    He definitely wasn’t expecting to see one of those down here. Lyle knew that Substitutes were sometimes used as more than just training dummies like the ones Amp and Watt had at their shop. Back in his hometown, some of the younger Pokémon would keep them around as dolls, especially if their parents were too tight on money to afford one that wouldn’t melt into mist if it was thrown around too much.

    Except that still didn’t explain why it was just lying around.

    “Keep your fire dim from past this point, Lyle. This last stretch could get a bit dicey.”

    Lyle looked over at Dalton and immediately noticed that the Heliolisk looked on edge—much as if he’d seen a ghost. He followed the Electric-type’s gaze off to the wall, where there was a ruddy, sloppily painted sigil on the wall… which looked like some sort of Crawdaunt’s claw. Lyle glanced off at his side and Kate and Irune staring up at it, before Kate blinked and turned aside with a small frown.

    “Scales, isn’t that going to make things harder for us?” she harrumphed, folding her arms. “I know that my darkvision is decent, but it’s not as if the Wilders that live down here aren’t more used to it than me.”

    Lyle expected Dalton to waver more after Kate’s counterpoint, especially since he was the one with the busted arm that didn’t mix well with scuffles. But the Heliolisk’s expression didn’t change at all as he warily glanced down the length of the tunnel.

    “Just trust me on this one,” the Electric-type said in a low tone. “A lot of these tunnels are less empty than they look, and there’s more than just Wilders down here.”

    There… were? Lyle hesitated a moment at Dalton’s demeanor and noticed Irune starting to get visibly worried. She stole uneasy glances around her, before tilting her head puzzledly.

    “... Do you mean that there’s Grünhäuter patrolling down here?” she asked. “I thought that you said these tunnels weren’t used outside of times of crisis.”

    Dalton blinked and hesitated a moment, before pawing at the back of his head with the hand on his good arm.

    “Well, yes. I suppose that wouldn’t be impossible,” the Heliolisk said. “It’s a big tunnel system, and I suppose there have been stories of them using these tunnels to get around in past sieges…”

    He trailed off, his posture tense and braced as if he expected them to be jumped at any moment.

    “But they aren’t who I was worried about right now,” he said. “I’m more concerned about others who had the same idea as us.”

    ‘Others who had the same idea as us’? As in other Outlaws? It hadn’t occurred to Lyle that there’d be others beyond themselves down here…though from personal experience, Outlaws weren’t above territorial squabbles like Wilders. Or the Kingdom itself for that matter. But there were really bands of Outlaws that managed to hold out here in the Capital with all the guards roaming around?

    That was probably as good of an argument for not brushing Dalton’s advice aside. After all, any Outlaw gang that could make it in a territory like this was definitely not one they wanted to get on the bad side of.

    Lyle fought against his vent and tamped down the fire coming from them, the visibility in the tunnel dropping down to about twenty paces in any direction. After asking Dalton for instructions of what to do next, he drifted over with his teammates for the right wall of the tunnel, glancing up at the pitted and scarred wall above him.

    “Gods, I can’t wait until we’re out of this hole,” Lyle grumbled. “And here I thought Waterhead Cave was unpleasant to go through.”

    He carried on with Dalton walking alongside him to his left, just in case there was something else the Heliolisk noticed that they should be aware of. The tunnel walls drifted past them mostly in darkness, time seeming to slow to a crawl as he felt his heart thump in his chest. After a small eternity which surely couldn’t have been more than a couple minutes, the wall abruptly gave way to half-crumbled remains of a concrete platform. Lyle clambered up and stopped to help his teammates up and then down a shattered hallway that appeared to have once had straight, smooth walls.

    He briefly spotted a faded blue square with a white glyph a little ways down along the side of the wall next to a fork in the path, when Kate’s ears suddenly pricked up. Then his own did the same. Footsteps, not far away and growing louder.

    “Somebody’s here,” Kate whispered.

    Lyle fought against his body’s flames and cut the fire from his vents entirely, plunging him and the rest of Team Forager into darkness. He held his breath as the sound came again, this time mixed with the sound of wingbeats. Maybe they were just getting wound up over the likes of more Wilders, but after Dalton’s warning earlier…

    “Think it’s more Wilders?” Lyle asked. “Whoever’s out there, they don’t sound big.”

    “Oi, Igna! We’ve got intruders poking about in here!” a voice squawked. “Up there past the platforms, one of them had fire on his body!”

    Lyle reflexively lit up again with a start at the cawing voice. He hurriedly tamped his fire out, but the damage was already done. There further down the tunnel was a pair of ghostly blue lights along some sort of whitish rod, with a glimpse of a bipedal figure about his height holding it.

    He couldn’t get a good view of the figure holding the light, but just from the glimpse and the sound of increasingly large-sounding footsteps and wingbeats, it was obvious the Pokémon out there weren’t exactly small and unthreatening like he’d hoped. Lyle felt his heart begin to flutter and set his teeth on edge as he fought back a quiet whine from his throat.

    A-Ach, Schei-
    “Ah/Oh, shi-”
    ₂”

    “So much for an easy exit,” Kate whispered. “Looks like we’re gonna have to fight our way out of here.”

    Kate flashed her claws and started to walk ahead, only to abruptly stop as Irune blocked her path. The Axew looked up at her, with an expression that struck Lyle as being equal parts anxious and frustrated.

    “Kate, we have no idea who we’re up against!” Irune hissed. “We can’t just blindly pick a fight here!”

    “It won’t stay a battle between two Pokémon either, Kate,” Dalton added. “I would’ve hoped you as an Outlaw by trade would expect as much starting a fight with rivals.”

    “Well give some better ideas to work with then!” Kate snapped.

    Lyle felt his heart pound as the light neared and grew ever-clearer in his vision, when his mind turned back to when they first entered the Undercity. Earlier on, there was that strange blue-and-white sigil at the end of a tunnel on their side of the chamber. If this was really a place with a way out, wouldn’t it likely have a sigil like that, too?

    It was just a hunch, but he didn’t have any better ideas to work with at the moment. The winged Pokémon with the figure with the torch or whatever it was was doing a flyover now. It wouldn’t be long before the two ran into them, along with any buddies of theirs.

    “Dalton. You know how we saw that symbol coming into the Undercity?” Lyle asked. “Do those show up anywhere in particular chambers like these?”

    “The ones that are still around usually are nearsteps that go up towards the surface,” Dalton explained. “Or at least to ones that used to, why?”

    “There’s one in by that branching path up ahead, so that’s probably our way out of here,” the Quilava insisted. “Come on, we’re gonna need to make a run for it!”

    Lyle abruptly lit up as the right wall of the chamber with its mottled teal paint came into view and bolted ahead after where he’d remembered seeing the white sigil. Sure enough, it was in a passage that split at both ends, and was quickly approaching… along with their pursuers.

    “Hey! Stop and put your paws where we can see them!” the cawing voice cried.

    Lyle didn’t bother to stop or even look back, and instead kept running. A slicing gust of wind and a gout of bluish, ghostly fire zipped in, a yelp from Kate suggesting that they’d missed by hairs. Lyle quickly whipped his head between both directions at the fork, and after seeing pricks of colored light from the right, hurriedly bounded up the steps.

    He tore along and looked back to see his teammates rounding the corner, with the sound of the pursuing wingbeats and footsteps right behind them. It dawned on him that they weren’t going to be able to outrun their pursuers, so they had to do something to buy some time or else they’d be quite literally fighting in the dark in short order. The Quilava hastily rifled through his bag, blindly grabbing at a Wonder Orb inside and lobbing it just as he spotted the glow of ghostly fire coming around the corner.

    The Orb broke with the sound of shattering glass, followed by a pair of startled yelps. Gottverdammt, they could’ve used that in a Mystery Dungeon! It’d have worked against an entire chamber in there, while he’d have been lucky to have worked more than ten paces out using it right here and now!

    “Agh! Ansel, you idiot! You could’ve told me they were right there!

    He supposed whatever he’d grabbed, that ten or so paces was enough, even if it was a bit unnerving to think that their ambushers were that close to them. The Quilava turned to his companions, who briefly faltered and glanced back in disbelief, before he motioned up the steps impatiently.

    “Go! Go! Go!”

    Lyle tore along and darted up the stairs as best as their size would allow him. He reached the top, and came across a tunnel that had been covered with wooden boards. The others caught up shortly afterwards and immediately began frantically feeling around for any sign of a loose plank to pull aside. There was a creak, when Lyle turned over to Kate and saw her tugging at one that looked loose…

    And riddled with claw marks on it.

    “Hey wait a minute,” she said. “Looks like someone’s come through here before-”

    The board abruptly gave way under her weight, and sent her pitching forward. Lyle hurriedly followed after her and tumbled out onto a set of worn and ground-down steps with some weathered propaganda posters and a pile of shattered exposure chests that reminded him of the back of the Box Buster shop in his home village. Big cities had Box Busters too, didn’t they?

    Kate hastily picked herself up and dusted herself off as Dalton and Irune caught up. Lyle turned and bolted up the steps, he saw that overhead, the sunlight was gone, replaced with moonlight along with bluish auroras that he glimpsed between narrow gaps overhead in some sort of alley. He ran ahead wherever the alleys took him, running along what felt like a veritable warren until he popped out into a cobbled street with a few passersby drifting past.

    He paused to let his racing heart slow down as he heard his teammates catch up, only to pause after looking at his surroundings. All about them were various buildings and shacks with thatched and shingled roofs, with the spires of the Administrative District off in the distance towards the south crowned with a fiery light coming from the top of Dämmerungsturm. The Quilava turned and stared at the darkened monoliths against the starry sky and the bands of colored light behind them, when Dalton’s voice pricked his ears.

    “Lyle?”

    Lyle turned and saw Dalton pawing at his left shoulder with his good arm, with the Heliolisk’s eyes narrowed into an annoyed scowl.

    “From now on, let’s try and stay out of trouble until we make it to those marketplaces, got it?”

    He nodded back all too eagerly. He’d had enough excitement for one day, and it’d be nice to have some peace and quiet before finally getting some sleep.



    After leaving the Undercity, Lyle was all too eager to get away from the exit tunnel they’d taken, just in case those two Pokémon they’d run into were attempting to track them. The first thing that Lyle noticed as he went along was that the district they’d stepped out into was cramped with narrow and winding streets, some of which looked like they’d struggle to fit a larger Puller passing through, let alone a wagon. It sort of reminded him of the district where they’d gotten off Boudewijn’s raft, and he swore that a few of the shabby-looking buildings looked like they’d been made of the same timbers as the barges and rafts even if he couldn’t see signs of a dock anywhere.

    Even so, there were still differences from the neighborhood around the docks. Here, there would occasionally be the skeleton of a taller human ruin which rose up, unclaimed by civilization from the gutted upper levels and darkened silhouettes of branches that could be seen against the auroras and moonlight. And while the area around the docks hadn’t exactly been obviously wealthy, it certainly felt a cut above their present surroundings.

    “Is that part of a boat? Dalton, where did you take us?”

    Lyle turned and saw Irune pointing and gaping at a post jutting out from a building facade with a carving of a Gyarados head that looked like it was styled after a ship’s prow. Hell, it probably was a ship’s prow once from the way the paint was flaking off of it. He turned and cocked a head at Dalton himself. What was the story behind this neighborhood anyways?

    “This is Shift Square, a district just to the east of the Great Arena and the neighborhoods built on its slopes where more normal Pokémon live,” Dalton explained. “There’s a stretch of shoreline along the bridge that I was originally going to take to get here that has places where boats are brought in to be scrapped.”

    Lyle supposed that explained the nearby buildings, even if he was surprised to hear that Pokémon would live this meagerly just across the river from where the King and Hofstaat lived. Kate seemed even less impressed than he did, and had a twinge of discomfort cross her face.

    “I don’t think I missed much by never coming here before,” she muttered. “I’ve spent time in refugee camps that felt less miserable than this!”

    Lyle wasn’t sure if he agreed with Kate there, though from what he knew of her history, she was definitely more qualified to cast judgment. Neighborhoods that felt worn-down and meager weren’t exactly rare in even Varhyde’s smaller towns, but now that Kate mentioned it, the buildings seemed to get visibly shabbier as they went along. Some of them were obviously put together from scraps of unpainted wood and metal. Others went without blinds or shutters for windows, while still others didn’t have doors beyond some cloth strips hung over the doorway—the sort of thing one would expect from a rural peasant barely able to afford a mat and mailpost for their burrow or nest.

    “I… suppose that portions of Shift Square did used to be refugee encampments earlier on in the war,” Dalton said. “I guess that parts of it still reflect those origins.”

    Lyle hoped that they wouldn’t be here too much longer, since even the streets seemed to get worse as they went along. The back lanes grew increasingly cluttered with untended garbage, a few carrying vile, gag-inducing odors that the Quilava tried not to think too hard about. The one spot that seemed to be a reprieve from it all was a weirdly tidy corner with a set of wooden boards set up with line after line of tiny runes on them. He wasn’t sure what it was at first, when he noticed flowers and little stones and notes set at their base.

    … Just like the Gedenksteine
    “Remembrance Stones”
    ₃ in his hometown, where Pokémon who’d died from the war and weren’t able to be sent off at home had their names engraved. These boards were obviously shabbier since they were made of wood, and they had a hell of a lot more names on them.

    He hurried and continued along after that, and noticed his teammates had similarly had a chill come over their moods. Nobody said anything afterwards until they spotted a line of Pokémon queued up at an open-backed cart manned by some Pokémon in green plates next to some lanterns that had been set up. Most of the Pokémon lining up looked visibly lean, a few had missing limbs or other ugly scars, all waiting for packets being handed out from the back of the wagon.

    Lyle knew what the line to a food dole looked like, and he knew how unruly they could get if it came up short. With the tense, sullen mood in the crowd and how the Gendarmen would occasionally shove back Pokémon trying to sneak around them, he already knew it was a bad idea to hang around.

    “Is there a side street that we can take, Dalton?” he asked. “That crowd up ahead just screams trouble.”

    “Yeah, off to the right.”

    Lyle hurriedly rounded the corner with his teammates and moved along. They didn’t need to risk the Gendarmen noticing them, and none of them needed to get a good look at that sort of misery right here and now. Irune seemed to be visibly bothered by her surroundings, and she went over and tugged at Dalton’s side with a worried frown.

    “Is… it really a good idea to be stealing from Pokémon in a place like this?” she asked. “It just feels so… meager.”

    “Things are thankfully a bit less rough in the area around those marketplaces, but there’s a bit more of this to go through before we reach them,” the Heliolisk said. “Though there are worse places we could’ve wound up in. Like Zelba City. Now that district is a real dump.”

    Wait, there were districts here called ‘cities’? There was probably some story behind that, but Lyle wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what that place was like if Dalton was comparing it negatively to this one. He and Team Forager entered an intersection of back alleys, with clotheslines dangling between rows of ramshackle tenements. Lyle noticed Dalton slow as they passed through, as he stopped and pointed off to their right.

    “After all, even if you won’t find a noble’s salon around here, you can’t say that the residents don’t at least try to make things feel a bit more homely.”

    Lyle turned and followed the Heliolisk’s finger off towards a small, crude pavillion made of unpainted wood with misaligned shutters. There were a few odds and ends set out in various places, their arrangement giving away that the place was some sort of shrine. Irune seemed particularly fixed at the sight, before she turned her head over to them.

    “If we’re not in a hurry, could we take a look?”

    Lyle traded glances with Kate and Dalton. On the one paw, they weren’t going to get to those marketplaces any quicker like this. On the other paw, the shrine was right here, and small enough that it wouldn’t take long to duck in and out.

    And with how their luck had been lately, even if it was on the superstitious side, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to try and curry a bit of divine favor.

    “Fine. But I’m not sure what you’re expecting to find in a neighborhood as poor as this one,” Lyle said. “Just make it quick. We still need to hit up those marketplaces and find a place to sleep tonight.”

    He shuffled up to the entrance of the pavillion along with his teammates, only to freeze in surprise once he crossed the threshold. All around him were a collection of wooden statues and painted panels dedicated to various gods. Made well enough and with enough care that they looked more at home along that path up to the Reshiram statue in the Administrative District than in a dump like this.

    Maybe that was a bit unfair to Shift Square’s Pokémon, since even if there hadn’t been any living gods in Varhyde for years, they still commanded respect among the Kingdom’s Pokémon. He supposed the shrine being shared between gods should’ve been less surprising to him as well. After all, he remembered Moonturn Square had one where a statue of Celebi shared the same roof with one to Hoopa.

    Even so, this was the first time he’d ever seen a shrine to so many gods in one place. One corner of the pavillion was devoted to Ho-Oh, the Great Bird of Seven Colors, with incense and fragrant ash set out. Another to Xerneas, the Voice of Life, with wooden branches set out. Why, there was even a corner set aside for Latios. Lyle blinked and went over, where he saw a few coins left sitting at the base of the statue. The sight drew a smile and small chuckle from Dalton as he walked by and picked a few of the coins up from the base.

    “Honestly, this little shack feels more earnest than that big statue back at the overlook,” Dalton remarked. “The Pokémon that lived here wanted to make this shrine and pooled their own efforts to put it together.”

    Lyle noticed Irune paying particularly rapt attention to something behind the Latios statue. He turned to look himself and saw that on the wooden panels behind the statue, there were scenes of the Latios playfully wheeling about in the sky. The scenes were a bit rough around the edges, but their creator had clearly invested a lot of care and effort on behalf of his patron.

    One that gave the urge to just stop and stay a while taking them in.

    “I… guess I can see where you’re coming from,” the Axew murmured. “Latios looks so… free in these paintings. I don’t know if a shrine commissioned by a noble would ever look like this.”

    ‘Free’, huh? If it weren’t for the fact that the Vatername he saw on Irune’s wanted poster back in Errberk Village was the sort which Wilders recruited into civilization had, he’d have guessed that Irune’s dad had been a Carrier or something like that. A set of clinks snapped him out of his thoughts as Dalton returned the offerings back to their place beside the Latios shrine and continued on. He followed after, only to see the Heliolisk suddenly freeze just ahead. Kate caught his change in demeanor, too, and tilted her head puzzledly.

    “Scales? Why are you reacting like tha-?”

    Lyle caught a glimpse of black paint splattered about up ahead and stopped dead in his tracks after rounding the corner. The space ahead had been a shrine to Reshiram, except the panels had black paint thrown onto them, recently enough that he could see beads still dripping like black tar. The wooden statue to Reshiram had met a similar fate, and been toppled over with gashes cut into it.

    Something came over Lyle and he hurriedly turned the statue up, setting it back on its stand. He’d never considered himself as the type of ‘mon to put much stock in dead gods, but something about seeing this humble shrine defaced like this just didn’t sit well with him. Dalton and Kate stared blankly ahead as Irune went up and pawed at the statue. She put a hand on the black paint, only to pull it back sharply after discovering it was still wet.

    “I- I don’t understand,” she stammered. “Who would do something like this?”

    “Look up,” Kate remarked. “It should give you a few ideas.”

    ‘Look up’? Lyle followed after Kate’s claw and went rigid with shock. There, to the side of the black paint were a set of scrawled runes and the silhouette of a great, deep black dragon with outstretched wings and a dart-like tail.

    Zekrom, the patron god of Edialeigh, and the Endbringer who was said to have razed entire kingdoms with his lightning.

    “I’m going to go ahead and guess that’s not supposed to be part of this shrine,” Lyle murmured.

    “Gee, what tipped you off there, Lyle?” Kate scoffed. “The fact that it’s a scrawled mess? Or that there’s still black paint dripping down?”

    Lyle held his tongue at the Sneasel’s remark, not least of all because the scene was uncomfortably familiar. He supposed it was only to be expected when there had once been a proper shrine to Zekrom in his hometown.

    He never fully understood why it was so. The way his parents explained it to him, it and a number of shrines like it had been built in Varhyde during the reign of King Sansa. At a time when as impossible as it sounded, Zekrom was said to have once been friendly to Varhyde… one that was swiftly drowned out and forgotten when the Dragon of Deep Black once again brought death and destruction alongside Edialeigh’s forces later on in King Sansa’s reign.

    Back in the early years of the war before the gods that took part of it all killed each other off.

    Lyle supposed that even if those memories were hazy now, that Varhyde’s Pokémon never forgot what happened. Or forgave it. Even if the Zekrom shrine in town was boarded up and decaying after being torched in the past, it was still standing. He’d never heard of another one in Varhyde all his life that was in a better state than it.

    “I-I just don’t understand why whoever did this would need to destroy a shrine to make their own,” Irune murmured. “Reshiram and Zekrom are counterparts to each other and at least where I grew up, there was a shrine to Zekrom in it.”

    Lyle stiffened up at the Axew’s reply and whirled around, just in time to catch Dalton and Kate staring at her much as if her tusks had just fallen off. Irune also came from a village that still had a shrine to Zekrom? He doubted she ever saw what it really looked like or that it was in good condition, but still, that was one hell of a coincidence.

    “Because whoever made this wasn’t interested in making a shrine,” Dalton said. “That message is a curse.”

    Dalton pointed out the set of runes underneath the scrawl of Zekrom, made in the same paint, with loose, messy strokes much as if made in a fit of rage. He had to read the line a couple of times since some of the runes used didn’t look like ones which were normally used, but he thought that he managed to piece together the message…

    “‘May the gods hear our cries for aid and judge this den of liars,’” the Quilava said. “Am… I reading that right?”

    “I’m pretty sure that’s correct, yes,” Dalton remarked. “I… might be reaching for the next line, but I’m pretty it says. ‘May they grant this hole the same peace they visited upon Freeden Village.’”

    Lyle reflexively pinned his ears back at Dalton’s narration. Gods, whoever wrote that sure knew how to get under his hide. The Heliolisk trailed off and pawed underneath the runes, giving a frowning shake of their head.

    “You definitely don’t see too many Pokémon write a message out like that,” he said. “Especially not with some of the runes this ‘mon used. Or at least, not among Pokémon from Varhyde.”

    … Meaning that an Edialeigher wrote it? Lyle supposed that he couldn’t definitively rule it out after they came across that Charmeleon earlier, and it was genuinely hard to imagine a Varhyder doing something like this to a shrine of the land’s patron goddess.

    “W-Wait, what did that writer mean by that last bit?” Irune asked. “I’ve- I’ve been to Freeden Village before and there wasn’t anything obviously special about it!”

    Lyle turned and stared at Irune as she turned her head up at Dalton and noticed that she looked visibly alarmed. Did she not really know the tale of how Freeden Village was said to have earned the disfavor of the gods? After all, if an Edialeigher had heard the tale to allude to the ‘peace’ the gods gave to his hometown, what were the odds that Irune hadn’t?

    Actually, as crazy as it sounded… could Irune have also been from Freeden Village like him? While he admittedly hadn’t been back home for almost three years at this point, he couldn’t say he ever remembered seeing her in the village when he was younger. Even so, that reaction of hers felt familiar, like ones he’d had on a couple of occasions when he was still new to the Foehn Gang… and a couple assholes on the gang had found out about his hometown and ribbed him over being as living jinx carrying the town’s curse.

    … Maybe he was just overthinking things. Varhyde wasn’t a small kingdom, enough so that he barely knew about the towns past the neighboring Grafschaften where he grew up. It was surely more likely than the two of them somehow hailing from the same two-bit village without ever knowing each other.

    He considered just asking Irune and settling the matter once and for all, only to bite his tongue. Maybe it was better to set the topic aside. If she had somehow grown up in Freeden Village, he was sure that one way or another, he’d know for sure eventually. It was probably time to move on anyways, since lingering around this of all things wasn’t exactly going to lift the mood.

    “It’s just a curse some punk put up,” Lyle huffed. “Let’s just get out of here right now.”

    He made his way out of the shrine as Kate and Dalton followed after him. As he turned back into the alleyway, he noticed that Irune wasn’t there with them. He poked his head back through the entrance, where he saw her still looking back at the desecrated Reshiram shrine. The Axew shook her head and shuffled back out and rejoined them with an uneasy paw at her shoulder.

    “Sorry to keep you all waiting. Though I suppose you’re right and we’ve got more important things to worry about…” she murmured. “Though what do we do now?”

    Kate paused a moment and let her ear flick at the sound of something in the distance, before raising a claw and motioning off down the alley to their left. There at the end, Lyle could spot glimpses of colorful stalls and different figures slipping past the mouth of the alleyway.

    “Scales, is that the marketplace we were looking for?” she asked.

    “The edge of it, yes,” Dalton said. “We might as well get started, though stay sharp. Just because we’re not in Armory Alley right now doesn’t mean that things can’t go sideways for us quickly.”



    Much as Dalton had predicted, after slipping out of the alleyway, Kate and the rest of Team Forager came across Shift Square’s marketplaces. They were clustered along both sides of a road that headed off towards a bridge going back towards the Administrative District as buildings of three to five stories of wood and scrap clustered among gutted human ruins. Layout and towering ruins aside, it didn’t all that different from that marketplace they’d gone through in Moonturn Square…

    Aside from the fact that it was still crowded at this late hour, with throngs of Pokémon continuing to do their trading and bartering under the glow of lanterns hung out over stalls and shopfronts and hung across streets on lines. A great place to just slow down and soak in the hustle and bustle of passing Pokémon and wagons.

    “Hey! Stop!”

    Kate ignored the cries of protest as she snagged a Luminous Orb off the counter of a wood-and-canvas stall tended by a Kadabra and took off running. She dashed ahead, ducking and weaving past passersby before popping into a back alley. The others were already waiting there and waiting for her, including Dalton, who sized her up briefly with a small frown.

    “You should’ve been more careful about picking marks, Kate,” the Heliolisk remarked. “Many of the vendors here aren’t exactly pushovers.”

    Kate couldn’t help but scoff internally at the Heliolisk’s remark. They’d attempted to seek marks quite literally at the doorstep of a Hunter’s Guild once already in their journey. So long as they were quick on their feet, how could this possibly be any more risky?

    “Ah, lighten up, Scales,” Kate insisted, giving a dismissive wave of her claws. “We’ve already made up most of those items we burned through back in Primordial Woods. Not bad for only our third go!”

    The Heliolisk briefly rolled his eyes, but didn’t contest the point. Good enough, Kate supposed. She started putting away the Luminous Orb into her bag as Irune looked at her, when she noticed the Axew was holding a meager coinpurse. So she’d managed to actually steal something after all… except, why did she look like she was expecting the sky to cave in on her at any moment?

    “Don’t you think we’ve taken enough already?” Irune asked. “These Pokémon probably worked hard to get the things we’re stealing from them. And the longer we keep at this, the more likely we are to run into trouble.”

    Kate pinned her ears back with a quiet sigh. She supposed that was one way to tell that Irune still wasn’t used to stealing things. How on earth had she survived as an Outlaw before Lacan caught up to her anyways?

    “Yeah, and we worked hard to nab it,” she said. “And it’s going to a good cause… namely to keep us out of trouble and get you closer to your treasure.”

    Irune opened her mouth briefly to protest only to catch herself. Kate wasn’t sure whether or not the Axew really agreed with her, but it got the point across at least. Lyle was already starting to drift off, though Dalton seemed to be weirdly hesitant and on-edge as he kept stealing glances at his surroundings.

    Was something wrong? She wouldn’t have pegged Scales to get confused by their surroundings with the way he’d taken them to this place through the Undercity, so what was going on?

    Gottverdammt, I didn’t realize we’d been getting this close to the northeast end of the market,” the Heliolisk said.

    “Why? What’s wrong with the northeast end of the market?” Lyle asked.

    As if on cue, Dalton raised a hand and motioned off down the street, where a few stalls could be seen with various dungeoneering items set out. Among the buildings in the background, Kate spotted a building made out of a gutted concrete structure with a tent shaped like a Baxcalibur’s head attached to a part which had partly collapsed. Between the wares being plied and the number of Pokémon going past in groups with coordinated scarves…

    “Right, you mentioned earlier that there were Hunter’s Guilds in this city,” the Quilava said.

    Kate supposed that would explain why that shop had so many Wonder Orbs just set out on display. It was a bit weird to be in a place where the local guild wasn’t the most prominent building in its surroundings, even moreso to see one styled after what she assumed was its guildmaster’s head. She always thought that was more of a thing in podunk towns, or else something that some more tacky merchants like the Colorswap Consortium would find more up their alley.

    Except, that didn’t solve the issue of what they were supposed to do right now.

    “So… what’s the plan then?” Kate asked. “Since it’s not as if we don’t need these items. It’s not that hard to nick things in front of a guild, is it?”

    There was a moment of hesitation, before Lyle turned back from the edge of the alley and shook his head.

    “We only need a few more Seeds and Berries to cover what we went through in Primordial Woods,” the Quilava began. “Let’s just get them, meet up at the end of the street, and then put some distance from this part of the marketplace. It’s late enough that we should probably be worrying more about trying to find a place to spend the night and figure out where we’re going to go from here, anyways.”

    Lyle reflexively set off, only for Dalton to grab at him with his uninjured arm and look about uneasily. The Heliolisk studied his surroundings closely, before leaning in with a wary murmur.

    “Actually… I think that Irune may have been onto something earlier, Lyle,” the lizard said. “We’ve pushed our luck enough in this marketplace for a while.”

    Kate pinned her ears back as Lyle turned back to Dalton. Gods, this wasn’t a hard thing. They just had to get those last Berries and Seeds and then get to the end of the street. How hard could that be?

    “Let’s focus on finding a place to stay the night for now. Ideally someplace off the street.”

    Great, now Scales was getting cold feet on top of things. Maybe he just needed a bit of a shove to get him back on track.

    “Hey, hurry up slowpokes! See you at the end of the street when you’re done!”

    Kate darted out into the crowd and briefly turned back to wave at her teammates still in the alley. She saw their shocked expressions, before they vanished amidst the faces in the crowd. Seeds and Berries… Seeds and Berries. She briefly glimpsed a Pecha Berry lying on the counter of a stall kept by a Delibird distracted by talking with a Prinplup off on the side. She walked by and in a swift motion, snagged it off the counter and ducked back into the throng. She weaved around bodies and passing wagons, but didn’t even hear a cry coming from the Delibird’s stall. Guess that was one way to tell that nobody had noticed her.

    “Heh. Easy peasy.”

    The next few stalls that she hit up went by similarly easily. A Totter Seed, a Cheri Berry, a Heal Seed… There was a brief moment when she thought she heard wingbeats overhead, but the whole time, her marks had at most caught passing glimpses that were easy to shake. It was all well and good, except she kept getting things a little at a time. If only there were a place where she could get more than a single Seed or Berry in one go…

    “Oi, Masch! Hurry it up with the stock out there! Don’t just leave that inventory sitting around, each of those boxes is worth more than your week’s pay!”

    “Alright! Alright!”

    Kate’s ears swiveled and she turned around towards a stall built into the front of a human ruin where just in time to catch a Machoke taking a crate off a stack and bringing it in through a side entrance.

    Expensive gear available in bulk? Now that she could get behind.

    She hurriedly darted along and scanned the surroundings, noticing a wooden door leading further into the shop. She hurriedly breathed an Icy Wind over the door’s edge to freeze it over. It almost certainly wouldn’t hold, especially against a Machoke of all ‘mons, but the noise would give her a sign of when it was time to go.

    Kate hurriedly darted over to the crate and popped the lid of the topmost crate open, seeing that it was filled with Oran Berries inside. She blinked briefly, before her face fell.

    “Tch, this is what that Machoke was getting yelled at over?” she scoffed. “Boy, his weekly wages must really suck.”

    She quickly snatched one, then another. She put her paws in deeper to reach for a third, only to feel them tink against something glassy.

    “Huh?”

    She tightened her grip around the object and pulled it out, revealing it to be a glass flask capped with a cork and filled with bright red fluid. Quite thick from how slowly the air bubbles in it moved when she flipped it over.

    “What in the-?”

    The door opened with a sharp, icy crunch, as Kate grasped the flask in her claws and whirled around. Just in time for the Machoke to return from inside the shop.

    “For crying out loud, who on earth delivers a batch of Drive during peak hou– Hey!

    Whelp, that ‘Drive’ answered the question of what the fluid was, and a sign to bounce. The Machoke’s expression changed the moment his head poked out past the doorway, as he wound up an arm for a punch with a sharp snarl.

    “What do you think you’re doing?!”

    Kate answered the Machoke by blowing an Icy Wind in the Fighting-type’s face, dashing the bottle against the ground by his feet. There was a snarling “get back here” and then a pained yelp, probably a sign that the Machoke hadn’t been watching where he was going.

    She ducked back out into traffic, springing up and vaulting over the back of a passing Stantler puller much to the ‘mon’s alarm, dutifully ignoring the Normal-type’s cries as she ran to the end. There was an alley off on the left side where she could see the glow of fire coming from it. That must’ve been their meeting place.

    Kate stumbled into the alley and leaned against the wall to catch her breath. Götterblut, that was way too close for comfort. Maybe Scales had been onto something about them pushing their luck.

    “What the hell happened to you?”

    Kate’s ears perked up at Lyle’s voice. She turned, where further down the alley, she saw him looking up with Irune at his side. The pair seemed visibly worried, as Dalton hurriedly pulled her over to their hiding place.

    Kate stumbled forward, her heart still pounding from her earlier close call. She hoped it wouldn’t take long to help Irune find out about her powers of hers, since they couldn’t put this craphole behind them soon enough. Kate wasn’t a stranger to mounting daring raids, but those always had safe places to slip away to once the deed was done, not more streets with prowling guards on them.

    “Kate, did anyone follow you here?”

    Kate looked up at Dalton as he looked visibly on edge. She looked back at the alleyway and saw nothing but passing traffic, before turning back with a puzzled tilt of her head.

    “I mean, if someone did, you’d think they’d have caught up by now-”

    A slicing gust of wind suddenly sailed in from further down the alley and caught Kate in her stomach. She fell back, and heard Lyle yelp after something loudly smacked against him, along with Irune and Dalton raising their voices in alarm.

    “A-Ack!”

    Kate stumbled up as Irune’s voice reached her ears. She watched Lyle right himself by a bin filled with trash, only to freeze and flare up with a grimace. She followed his gaze deeper down the alley and stiffened up when she saw it herself:

    A lanky lizard that had blackish scales with a violet tinge. It had a bony head with a vaguely star-shaped marking between its eyes and grasped a bone that looked longer than it was tall. Was that a Marowak? Kate blinked for a moment since a bunch of little things seemed off compared to Alvin, but no, this ‘mon was clearly some sort of Marowak.

    And she was looking at them much like how Wilder predators were said to look at their cornered prey.

    “Well well well, what do we have here, Ansel?”

    Wingbeats rang out from above as a tawny blur dropped down from the surrounding rooftops. Brown feathers, a tall red head crest, and a long, thin beak that looked like it’d give one hell of a jab… that was a Fearow, alright. He and the strange Marowak didn’t have any armor plates, but from the overpowering glare in their eyes, one could’ve been forgiven for thinking they were somehow connected to them. Kate reflexively readied an Ice Shard, only to freeze after she noticed a peach-colored orb in the Fearow’s talons—a Slumber Orb, surely already prepared for use.

    “You tell me, Igna,” the bird replied. “Since all I see are a bunch of stupid mudders who think that they can just swoop into this town and poke their sticky paws wherever they please.”

    Kate looked on at their assailants, and flattened her ears with a low hiss.

    Gods, she really hated this dump.



    Author’s Notes:

    Words and Phrases

    1. Rotten - Plural of "Rotte", a name for various military units in the Germanosphere. Within the context of a Fähnlein, a Rotte is a small unit composed of 8-12 soldiers.
    2. Ach, Schei- - “Ah/Oh, shi-”
    3. Gedenksteine - “Remembrance Stones”

    Teaser Text

    The history of Varhyde and Edialeigh as kingdoms have long existed in the shadow of the many clashes between Wish and Reality. And yet, to this day, it remains a mystery as to why it is that Wish and Reality in their wanderings after the Great Flash would come to choose lands to dwell in that are so close to each other. Their exact rationales have since been lost to time, with some suggesting that the two are just fated to draw close to each other across their lives, while others have suggested that the Great Flash may have simply occurred at a time when they were both away from their original home and near to each other.

    Like our patron goddess, the god we call 'Wish' chose a hero and helped found a kingdom to their liking. Queen Galea, who alongside the god who aided her, founded the Kingdom of Edialeigh amidst the ruins of a City of Light that is said to have once been the site of the legendary ‘Lumenaᵃ’. A place that those who live in the land of Varhyde now call Donaterm Cityᵇ.

    While that city too had places which Wish found pleasing as a roost, it is said that what ultimately drew him to heed Galea’s pleas were her desires and strength of ideals to shape our unsettled world into one she thought better for its inhabitants. Desires so strong that some say that had the world held them back, that she would have seen fit to end it.

    Nobody knows how true those tales are, but they’re certainly believable from what has been recorded of Wish and those he has chosen as his Heroes in history. Especially in light of the great violence that this Dragon of Deepᶜ Black has visited upon us and our land from above Edialeigh’s banners.

    - Excerpt from 'The Varhyder Chronicles - A Brief History of our Kingdom's Early Years'

    a. Derived by phonetic corruption from terminology from the German franchise localization.
    b. Derived by phonetic corruption. A more semantically accurate translation would be "Thundertower City"
    c. Semantic translation. A more literal one would be 'Pure', with 'Pure Black' in the original text alluding to the same concept as 'Deep Black' does here.
     
    Last edited:
    Chapter 23 - Echoes New
  • OaT_Ch23_Final.png


    Neuengelstadt, 19. Herbstmond, 1027 n. d. B.

    Für wen es angeht,

    Mir ist zu Ohren gekommen, dass Ihre Streitkräfte unkonventionelle Kontakte mit den weniger schmackhaften Elementen dieser Stadt über Elemente in und neben der sogenannten „Diebesgilde“ unterhalten. Aufgrund von Bedenken hinsichtlich der Kriegsanstrengungen gegen das Königreich der Ideale bitte ich im Namen von Eurer Majestät König Siegmund von Wahrheit, ihnen mitzuteilen, dass sie jene Pokémon ausfindig machen sollen, deren Beschreibungen in diesem Brief enthalten sind.

    Ich interessiere mich nicht besonders für die Arbeitsweise dieses Ungeziefers oder des sogenannten „Bluthummers", der ihren Respekt abverlangt, und es ist mir auch nicht wichtig, die vollständige Geschichte und Einzelheiten dieser Vereinbarung herauszufinden. Praktische Bedürfnisse erfordern, dass Ihre und meine Streitkräfte nicht gezwungen sind, eine ganze Stadt nach diesen Pokémon abzusuchen, selbst wenn dies den Rückgriff auf unangenehme Lösungen erfordert.

    Ihre Kontakte müssen über die bereitgestellten Beschreibungen hinaus nichts wissen und müssen sie mit einem Raubüberfall auf die Königliche Bibliothek beauftragen. Was diese Pokémon von Interesse stehlen sollen, ist unerheblich, solange zumindest die Milza unter ihnen körperlich in der Lage ist, durch die Türen zu gehen, sodass sie vor Ort festgenommen werden kann.
    Bitte informieren Sie Ihren Ansprechpartner darüber, dass jeder, der an der Begünstigung dieser Festnahme beteiligt ist, sowohl finanziell als auch durch die Löschung aller Vorstrafen reichlich belohnt wird. Jeder aus ihren Reihen, bei dem festgestellt wird, dass er die Gefangennahme stört oder das Wohlergehen der Milza auf eine Weise beeinträchtigt oder die ihre Festnahme verhindert, wird als Täter des Hochverrats gegen die Krone behandelt.

    Weitere Anweisungen und Briefings werden im Laufe des Abends an alle relevanten Personen weitergeleitet.

    - Dringende Depesche von Graf von Wellenhafen, Lacan Dragorans weitergeleitet an den Viertels Oberwachtmeister von Neuengelstadt




    Gods, this just wasn’t Lyle’s day. Lyle looked up from the ground, still smarting from a heavy smack across his flank when he saw the ‘mon who hit him: a lanky, umber-colored Marowak. She wore a cream-and-red scarf with that same claw pattern they saw graffitied in the Undercity… and wielded a bony club that looked longer than her standing height. Or at least Lyle the ‘mon sounded like a ‘she’ from the way her voice sounded.

    She must’ve been one of those Marowak from the southern Provinzen... which he knew precious little about other than that they were different from ones like Alvin. He took a moment to catch his breath and size up the lizard glaring down at him. The still-smarting blow to his shoulder was proof enough that even if she was different from Marowak Alvin, she could hit as hard as him with her club.

    “You should know when you’re beat, Quilava. Just saying, my Orb’s primed to use right now and Igna and I aren’t the ones who will conk out if I break it!”

    And then there was her Fearow partner wearing the same patterns who blocked the rest of the alleyway, with his right talon wrapped tightly around a Slumber Orb.

    Really, the more he saw of his present circumstances, the more Lyle was convinced they were all in deep trouble. The Marowak seemed to know it too from the way she batted her club against her free palm and the toothy sneer spreading over her mouth.

    “Though please, do pick a fight. Go ahead and make my day,” the Marowak sneered. “If you four don’t completely crumple up, you seem like you’d be fun for our buddies to take apart once they catch up with us.”

    Gods, there were more of these ‘mons?! From the way that the Marowak phrased things, those buddies of theirs couldn’t have been far away, either. Irune was hiding behind Dalton, whose mouth hung open with that same sort of expression that Alvin and other lizard Pokémon like him had when they were in for a bad time. And then there was Kate, who rolled her eyes and folded her arms with a dismissive scoff.

    “And just who are you jokers supposed to be?”

    “We should be asking you the same thing, Sneasel,” the Fearow huffed. “There’s a system for ‘mons looking to steal things here in Newangle City. So let’s see some sign that you’re part of it, or else things are about to get very uncomfortable for you.”

    “Actually Ansel, I think you can save your breath there,” the Marowak said.

    The Marowak grabbed at the scruff of Lyle’s neck, dragging him up as a predatory sneer spread over her face and ghostly fire sprouted on the tips of her club

    “I remember this furry rat’s yippy little voice from the Undercity earlier. So how about we get properly introduced to each other, hm?” she asked. “Who knows? Maybe there’ll be something left over for one of the local Leichensammler to pick over when we’re done with you. I heard the ones in Zelba City don’t ask too many questions about where they get their stock, and I’m willing to bet the ones here in Shift Square don’t either.”

    Lyle felt a chill run down his back at the strange Marowak’s threat. He didn’t know if it was just bluster to mess with them, or if these two really were going to kill them, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to wait to find out. The Quilava gulped, looking around his surroundings uneasily when he noticed Dalton bracing himself and something building back at his mouth.

    That was a Surf. Or at least he sure hoped that was one. Either way, he needed to get this ‘mon’s claws off him, and the fastest way to do that was to get her guard down. He pinned his ears back, his voice coming out with a stammering squeak.

    “Uh… Yeah, well… You see, the thing is-”

    Lyle blew out from deep in his lungs as it mixed with ashy heat from within and came out as a Smokescreen straight into the Marowak’s face. A shout from Irune’s voice followed and a pair of hacking blows against scales rang out from just beside him. Igna lost her grip and Lyle hit the ground, the Quilava hastily rolling onto all fours as he heard Igna hack and splutter behind him.

    “Gah! Ansel, Orb those lousy-!”

    The pair suddenly yelped when Lyle felt water from behind knock him down. He lost his footing and saw Irune run past him, a quick glance back revealing Dalton riding the remains of a wave of water past a reeling Igna and Ansel. The Fearow’s Slumber Orb was left behind on the ground rolling inertly, just in time for Kate to stoop down and snatch it.

    “Hey, thanks for the welcoming gift! But I think we’ll take a pass on that introduction!”

    Lyle turned and bolted as he heard the telltale woosh of an Icy Wind ring out from behind him and tore along into the street after Dalton and Irune. He felt a sharp tug as Kate caught up and dragged him leftwards past passersby and briefly saw his Heliolisk and Axew teammates duck down an alleyway on the right side of the street.

    “Say your prayers, you little worm!”

    Lyle heard startled yelps ring out and ducked as the Southern Marowak’s bone flew just over his head. He hurriedly spat a second Smokescreen up before bolting down the alleyway as he tried to keep pace with his teammates. Reshiram’s Fur, Icy Wind was supposed to slow those two down! When he looked back ahead for Dalton and Irune, he saw he’d fallen behind them and that Kate was now in front of him. He dove into a running lunge which made the surrounding world melt into a blur around him, faintly hearing cries off behind him. His vision started to become clearer as his Quick Attack petered out, as he began to see walls and entrances to dingy-looking houses and flats along a quieter back street. Dalton and Irune were off along the side, panting for breath, without any sign of the Marowak or Fearow behind them.

    The lull barely lasted long enough for him to catch his own breath when he heard wingbeats from overhead and looked up to see Ansel skimming over the rooftops. Because of course that stupid feather duster would’ve just been spying on them from above this whole time.

    Gottverdammt!” Kate cried. “Can’t we catch a break?!”

    Lyle spat up a cone of cinders up at Ansel as the Fearow attempted to dive at them and froze as clattering intermixed with low snarls came from the back of the alley. That was either Igna, or one of her ‘buddies’—neither possibility boded well for him. The Quilava looked about frantically as Dalton and Kate threw attacks up in the air to try and drive Ansel off, when he spotted movement up a set of steps from a building a few doors down.

    He briefly glimpsed a sign over the door with a symbol that looked like a pair of circles side-by-side and… a party of Togedemaru with grayish scarves entering? Those furballs again? Whatever, he wasn’t going to question it. If they could make Igna and Ansel their problems, it’d be just the break they’d need to shake their pursuers.

    “Th-That way!” the stoat cried. “Where those Togedemaru just went in!”

    “Lyle, those are ‘mons from the Roly-Poly Caravan!” Irune protested. “How’s it a good idea to-?!”

    The Axew’s protests abruptly cut off after a slicing wind zipped just past her arm. She jumped back with a yelp, before bolting for the stairs with a frantic wave back.

    “Okay, never mind! Getting the Togedemaru involved sounds good to me!”

    Lyle took off running for dear life along with his teammates, as every step, every second, seemed to drag on for an eternity. Lyle yelped as a whirling bone sailed in and almost clipped his right side, hastily springing to off to the left before he made a mad dash up the steps just as the door ahead started to close after the Togedemaru. Dalton was the first to reach it and caught its edge, stopping it with his good arm and pulling it open.

    “Gotcha!”

    Air wooshed from behind as a loud smack rang out and Kate yelped. The next thing Lyle knew, she bumped into him and sent him stumbling into Dalton and Irune as they all pitched forward and fell through the doorway with a chorus of yelps.

    Lyle hit the floor face-first on some sort of rug that thumped from wood underneath it. He lay there as the world spun around in his eyes before feeling a set of scaly claws wrench into his body and roll him over onto his back and then something heavy press down on his throat hard enough to make him struggle to breath. He looked up and let out choked screams as his vents lit up in fright. It was Igna, pressing her club down harder and harder against his throat all as a toothy sneer came over her face.

    “Gotcha, you ugly son of a-!”

    “Ah-ah-ah. You seem to be forgetting where you are just now, Knogga
    "Marowak"
    ₁.”

    Lyle felt Igna’s grip loosen and saw her freeze and look up with a nervous grimace. Over to his left, Ansel was doing much the same atop a rough ball with the others, his beak slackening from the middle of a tussle with Kate over his stolen Sleep Orb. Lyle craned his head up, the world around him still inverted as he saw a room with a wooden counter on one end, and a few cushioned seats and tables on the other. The Togedemaru party from earlier were there as well, staring blankly as one of them with a set of Heavy Rotation Specs—or so Lyle assumed from their swirl-like lenses—nudged another one clad in armor places in front of him with a scolding “Pupunin, you supposed to be bodyguard! Get out there!”

    He wasn’t sure where the hell they were at the moment, but it didn’t take long to see what had spooked Igna and Ansel so badly. Up at the counter, there was a Crobat flying in place from behind a sheaf of papers on the counter.

    Her garb carried some sort of shade like the scarves they stole off that ‘Team Pathfinder’, except at the center was some sort of strange crystalline design with hue that reminded him of lavender flowers—a pointed rod, overlaid by a diamond circumscribing a pair of concentric hexagons.

    That was definitely a design that would stick out. Did it mean something to those the Marowak and Fearow? The Crobat let out a disinterested scoff, before leveling a sharp glare across the counter.

    “This is the Möbius, not a guild hall for Hunters. It’s the proprietor’s policy that no business be settled on the property outside the playhouse,” the Crobat said, as her face settled into a predatory smirk.

    “Or am I going to have to call Wye over to help me sort you all out?”

    Lyle felt Igna let go and hurriedly rolled onto his feet and bolted away from her, stressed fire still pouring out his vents as his companions hastily joined him at his side. Lyle didn’t know who this Crobat was or who this ‘Wye’ she was referring to were, but they seemed to put the fear of the gods into Igna and Ansel. The pair squirmed a moment under the Crobat’s glare, as the Fearow of the pair bowed and raised a wing with a stammering squawk.

    “O-Our deepest apologies, Frau Iksbat
    "Crobat"
    ₂,” Ansel started. “Der Bluthummer
    "Blood Lobster"
    ₃ wouldn’t dream of having his associates start trouble in a place like this! We were just taking these jokers-”

    “Over to book a room!”

    Everyone’s eyes turned to Kate as she nonchalantly strutted over to the counter and threw the leftover money they’d stolen off the Tyranitar earlier onto the counter. The Sneasel propped herself onto the counter with her shoulders and shot a playful grin up at the Crobat receptionist.

    “We’ll take the best room for four you’ve got. Our Marowak and Fearow friends there were just showing us around town,” the Sneasel insisted. “A chunk of change like that ought to cover things plus the damage to your rug, right Frau Iksbat?”

    The Crobat cast a glance between the Sneasel and her money on the counter, and then back at the two ‘mons from the Thieves’ Guild. After a moment’s hesitation, the receptionist took the money and ducked up to a set of rafters to drop a key on the counter. Lyle just stared blankly for a moment as the Crobat came back down, before staring off at a set of stairs at the far end of the lobby.

    “Room 236. Third floor, and second right from the stairwell. We’ll bill you for the damages your payment didn’t cover later,” the Crobat instructed. “Though for the record, it’s ‘Ecks’. And don’t get in the habit of bringing in trouble along with you, either. It gets the proprietor on my case.”

    “Wouldn’t dream of it!” Kate cheered.

    Lyle stared blankly before noticing Igna and Ansel doing much the same with their jaws flopped open. He looked back at Kate as she gave a smarmy wave before ducking off for the stairwell. He decided not to question things and got up as Dalton hurried after her and he did likewise with Irune. Lyle made his way over to the stairs, heart still racing his chest only for Irune to abruptly stop and turn and look past his shoulders. She took a moment to blow a raspberry before hurrying up the stairs, with a quick peek back revealing the Marowak and Fearow glaring daggers back at him from the doorway.

    “This isn’t over, Quilava,” Igna snarled. “You four are gonna have to come out eventually...”

    The Marowak and Fearow ducked back out the doors at the entrance, before pulling them closed with a flinch worthy slam. He lingered briefly at the bottom of the steps as his heart continued to pound in his chest, and blinked incredulously until he started to notice that the Togedemaru from earlier were staring at him.

    Probably as good a sign as any it was time to move on.

    “Right, uh… sorry for the disruption and have a nice stay?”

    Lyle didn’t wait to see how anyone would react and hurriedly ducked along after his teammates. He scurried up the stairwell as his thoughts drifted to his tongue with a sighing grumble.

    “What in the world did we just get ourselves into?”



    Sophia knew that her flight to the Royal Reliquary after receiving her assignment from Lacan would be short, but she didn’t realize it would be this short: scarcely a minute’s flight south and then almost straight down. It took her to one of the buildings that the Universität von Wahrheit had been built into. The university’s share of the building had its entrances on the Lower Streets, while above on the floors around it the Upper Streets, was the Royal Library. Except her destination was far higher still from the two—a ledge about a third of Dämmerungsturm’s height from the ground which had been turned into a plaza with a curious banded appearance.

    Sophia spread her wings as braked in the air as she neared the platform, coming to a hopping stop on a ledge for fliers. The plaza was fairly quiet, trafficked by a few guards and some Carriers such as a small group of Squawkabilly who idly prattled beside a grounded Air Carriage. A quick glance down revealed that the bands she saw from the air were from white and black brickwork. It was one of those motifs that marked it as clearly having been built during golden years of Sansa’s reign, during that brief, happy season before the present war started when both Wish and Reality smiled upon the kingdom.

    The statues that stood guard over the approach to the steps up to the Royal Reliquary came shortly afterwards. First came the four founders of the Generalstab, their bodies all in Awakened states much as if they’d just consumed Empowerment Seeds. King Sansa of course was among them, as was the Absol statue of his trusted confidant, Alweiss the Seer. Then came the Tyranitar and Blaziken statues of Feldmarschall Pritchard the Giant and Feldmarschallin Laulan the Armorer.

    Likenesses of a visionary and his three disciples, who’d reformed the army into its present structure and allowed Varhyde to endure the strains and burdens of a war that would’ve surely collapsed the Kingdom in prior ages. A little past them were three larger pedestals at the final flight of steps leading to the Royal Reliquary’s entrance. At its center was the statue of the land’s patron goddess, bearing an inscription written in Hightongue that Sophia briefly peeked at as she passed:

    Wohl dem Menschen, der Weisheit findet, und dem Menschen, der Verstand bekommt.ᴰ¹
    "Blessed are the people who find wisdom, and the people who receive understanding."

    She supposed that it was fitting enough for a place that preserved relics from a past which Pokémon like them didn’t really understand, but something about the pedestals felt amiss to her. The left one had had a series of inscriptions removed from it and at its top, one could see remnants of black stone from where a statue used to be. The right one had similarly visibly had inscriptions removed and wear marks on its top from something being drug off of it, with leftover flecks of white stone that matched the stonework of Reshiram’s statue.

    A part of her wondered what the other two pedestals used to say, but it probably wasn’t worth worrying about. They’d just suffered the fate of many a shrine that Sansa had built before the present war, and been altered or dismantled when Varhyde’s fleeting wishes and desires had come crashing down from harsh reality. It wasn’t worth relitigating things that even her parents weren’t alive for..

    After all, she already had her wings full trying to tease out hints of the past. Ones which more immediately relevant to keeping Operation Spark from repeating the mistakes of its predecessors.

    It was easy enough to enter the Royal Reliquary: after displaying her royal commission and the summons that King Siegmund had sent her off with from Heldenschloss, the guards waved her through the entrance. As her eyes adjusted to the lighting, she found herself in a tall atrium lit up by daylight through blinds installed over open windows—ones which looked like they were once filled with glass panes in ancient times from their shape. Off along the right wall, there was a stone counter with an Oranguru receptionist dressed in garb that looked not terribly different from those the students at the Universität von Wahrheit far below them might wear. As she neared, the receptionist turned his eyes up and keenly watched the Corvisquire as she came to a stop in front of him.

    “May I help you?”

    “Yes, I’m here to transcribe some archival documents on behalf of Graf Wellenhafen,” she explained, fetching her paperwork. “I was told to present this summons and that one of your historians would take me to the materials I needed to review.”

    The Oranguru pawed through the paperwork briefly, when his eyes widened after reaching the king’s signature and stamp. After a blinking moment of realization, the Oranguru gaped back and shook his head.

    “Oh, so you’re the one who we were told to expect to review those old records the Generalstab asked for,” Oranguru remarked. “Step right in, someone’s already waiting for you past the door.”

    The Oranguru passed Sophia’s credentials back across the counter and pointed at a set of steel double doors, which she took as her cue to move along. So far, so good. Now, it was simply a matter of meeting this Herr ‘Friedrich Bojelins’ who was supposed to lead her to these records. The description of him that she’d received had been scant, beyond that he was quite advanced in years, and an esteemed historian who taught at the university down at street level on top of his duties in the Royal Reliquary…

    Which made it all the more surprising when she opened the door and came across a relatively young-looking Serperior. The serpent shot to attention as the door opened and flusteredly composed herself. She stared briefly, before as her beak flopped open with a start as it dawned upon her that...

    “Wait, you’re Friedrich Bojelins?

    Why, from the way Herr Friedrich had been described, she’d expected an elderly Pokémon, but this Serperior looked young enough that she’d have thought him to be Friedrich’s apprentice! Surely there must have been some sort of miscommunication…

    Though then again, what if there hadn’t been one? Just from what she’d seen over the past year, Sophia knew full well that there were Pokémon with the most implausible-sounding backstories in the Kingdom. And she supposed it wouldn’t be impossible for a Serperior to have ‘Bojelins’ as a Vatername...

    “Pardon my lack of manners, Herr Serpiroyal
    "Serperior"
    ₄,” Sophia insisted, flusteredly bowing her head. “I didn’t mean to presume about your parentage, it’s just that when I was told to expect ‘Friedrich the Historian’, I was expecting someone older-”

    “Er… it’s ‘Zeuge’, actually,” the Serperior replied. “‘Zeuge the Scribe’. Herr Friedrich was my mentor.”

    Sophia blinked for a moment in confusion before the Serperior motioned with his tail off towards the wall. She turned and followed along to a portrait of a visibly aged Floatzel on the wall, with a plaque added with a pair of dates on them, the more recent of them a date in Erntemond from not even a month ago. Sophia hesitated a moment, before glancing back at Zeuge, who seemed to have a cloud come over his mood.

    “There… must’ve been some confusion with whoever sent you, since Herr Friedrich is no longer with us,” the Serperior murmured. “I suppose it could be forgiven, since none of us here expected the ‘Der Hoffnungsträger
    "lit. "Hope’s-carrier". Depending on context of use, can semantically mean "Bringer of Hope" or "Rising Star"."
    von Silberstadt
    ""Zelba City", derived by phonetic corruption. In a more faithful semantic translation, this would be "Silver City"."
    ₆’ to be ripped away from us and the neighborhood he so loved.”

    ... ‘A beacon of hope’? For Zelba City of all places? An impoverished, lawless hive was hardly the place one would assume to be the place of origin for a distinguished historian… and a more morbid part of her couldn’t help but wonder if it somehow related to the poor Floatzel’s demise. She briefly considered asking Zeuge about the matter, but decided against it after seeing the way that the Serperior glumly hung his head.

    “Sorry if that seemed trite to you, Frau Kranoviz,” Zeuge said. “You’re in His Majesty’s army, so surely you’ve seen no shortage of others dying for the sake of the realm. The death of an old scholar probably doesn’t mean-”

    “‘Frau Sophia’ is fine,” the crow insisted. “There’s no need to apologize, Herr Zeuge. Loss isn’t an easy burden to shoulder, no matter how it arrives.”

    The Corvisquire trailed off and looked away with a quiet shake of her head. She wasn’t sure why the Serperior’s mood was bothering her so much when they were so different from each other. But seeing him like this stirred up uncomfortable memories of those black days in the middle of her training as a Ritterin when the war had claimed her own parents.

    Von jetzt an werde ich dich beschützen. Ich bin bei dir. Für immer!ᴰ²
    "From now on, I will protect you. I’m with you, forever!"


    And whenever she dwelled on them long enough, she’d always recall those words which Lacan told her to try and comfort her. Ones echoed from words she’d told him during similarly dark days for him when they were both but children.

    She shook her head back to attention and turned her attention further down the hallway. Right, she could ill afford to dawdle right now. Why, for all she knew, Gemeinwebel Frantz or someone else from Fähnlein Stärke would come bursting through the door any moment with a summons from Lacan to return to chasing after the Dyad!

    “I suppose that we should move things along, Herr Zeuge,” Sophia insisted. “I had to take time off from a sensitive assignment, so there is only so much time I can spare to make these transcriptions, and I’m not sure how many other opportunities I’ll have to come back here.”

    “Oh? You don’t have any time to look at the artifacts?”

    Sophia glanced back at Zeuge and saw him stare expectantly at her, only to catch himself, before drooping with a flustered stammer.

    “S-Sorry, it’s just that Herr Friedrich always loved showing off the artifacts on display to the Pokémon he took around the Reliquary…”

    Sophia remained silent as the Serperior trailed off and fumbled with his words. Herr Friedrich must’ve meant quite a bit to Zeuge as his mentor. Enough so that in retrospect, she probably wouldn’t have been that surprised if the Serperior really did have ‘Bojelins’ as his Vatername.

    Maybe she was letting sentiment get the better of her, but she couldn’t help think back to the way Lacan was when he first came to Errberk Village as a little Bagon. Something about Zeuge’s visibly depressed and lonely mood felt similar, and it felt uncomfortable just leaving it go unaddressed.

    … Was there really nothing that she could do to try and lift the scribe’s mood right now?

    “... I suppose it can’t be helped if you don’t have time,” he said. “We should get going to your reading room-”

    “Actually,” Sophia interrupted. “Are any of those artifacts that Herr Friedrich was fond of on the way to that reading room? ”

    Zeuge cocked his head up and pulled his body into a flustered coil. The snake blinked a few moments, before raising his voice to speak.

    “I- I beg your pardon?”

    Sophia fidgeted her wings and looked aside with a humming caw under her breath. This wasn’t a part of her mission, but even so, it would only be a short detour, would it not?

    “I probably don’t have the time for any lectures at length today, but I suppose I would have time to at least pass by a few artifacts that aren’t too out of the way,” she said, before trailing off.

    “We all need to have moments to make time for our little joys in life. Especially in times like these,” she remarked. “It sounded like those artifacts meant a lot to you two.”

    The Serperior paused, as a small smile spread over his face. He slithered around and nosed ahead at the air down the hall, motioning for the crow to follow.

    “Thank you for your interest, Frau Sophia. I’m sure that you’ll love them, and I promise I won’t keep you long,” he said. “There should be a few set out on display right this way.”



    Dalton supposed that he wasn’t a stranger to the idea of an inn that served as a meeting ground for thieves and Outlaws and their fences. He’d been to a few places of the sort while in the Riparian Raiders. He also supposed that between Newangle City’s Thieves’ Guild and the sort of neighborhood that Shift Square was, that it wasn’t that shocking that there’d be such an inn of the sort there either.

    He just couldn’t get over how well-kept it was, even in the hallway they were going through. The other inns he’d been into in the past didn’t have a ‘fourth’ anything, let alone a fourth story with rooms. All of them had been hovels that made Das Grüne Dragoran back in Errberk Village look well-sorted and scared off all but the neediest or most unquestioning clients. This ‘Möbius’ on the other hand, didn’t bother hiding itself from public view and apparently shared its premises with a playhouse. If it weren’t for the obviously questionable clientele it catered to, it might have been the sort of place his parents would’ve lodged in while traveling during better times.

    Perhaps that was pushing it a bit. Even with the more comfortable environs, the Möbius carried a strangely threatening air about it. The Marowak and Fearow from the Thieves’ Guild had been adamant that there was a specific way of doing things here in Newangle City as Outlaws, and the very presence of this place seemed to confirm it.

    It was also a pointed reminder that the four of them were in a place that they didn’t belong. Not that the pain that occasionally spiked in his splinted arm really helped the tense mood. He supposed that was one way to tell that it was time for another dose of healing berries to deal with that fracture in his arm bone.

    “Dalton, who were those two from earlier?”

    The Heliolisk felt a tug at his flank and saw Irune staring up at him with a worried expression.

    “Are they Pokémon that you used to know?” she asked. “You seemed to expect that we’d get in trouble earlier.”

    “Hardly. I just knew that the larger cities in Varhyde often have a Thieves’ Guild that resident Outlaws use to stake out local turf. And Outlaws from those guilds tend to be fairly territorial about them,” he explained. “Newangle City here is hardly an exception, so it was only a matter of time before we caught the attention of one of its members.”

    Dalton didn’t bring up the fact that he didn’t know about any of these details during the time when he’d actually been in the city at university. He’d heard rumors back then of there being a Thieves’ Guild and it having unsavory ties to powerful figures, but he’d never have imagined running into them firsthand. Much less as a fellow Outlaw. He snapped back to attention after an exasperated hiss reached his ears, and saw Kate turning back to face him with her ears visibly pinned back.

    “Then why didn’t you say anything about it earlier, Scales?!” she demanded. “That would’ve saved us a lot of money and trouble, you know!”

    “Because we were short on supplies, and a certain featherbrain opted to cut me off before I could explain that I noticed someone shadowing us and we ought to stop,” he harrumphed.

    Kate didn’t say anything back to that, slowly folding her arms and scrunching her brow into a sour glare. Dalton repaid the gesture in kind. Because of course Kate would have a childish reaction like this when someone pointed out how her boundless appetite for risk would come back to bite her. It wasn’t even for something worthwhile like helping out a teammate or even some Pokémon on the street she felt bad for, just a to steal few stupid Oran Berries they could’ve gotten some other time! He felt a nudge at his side and briefly caught Lyle rolling his eyes at Kate before giving an insistent look at him.

    “Are we sure that we’re in a safe place then, Dalton?” the Quilava asked.

    “No, but we’re at least in some sort of neutral ground, so we should be fine as long as we don’t cause trouble,” the Heliolisk replied. “Just think of it like a place where you’d meet a fence to sell off loot, even if this one certainly has more… decorum about it.”

    He trailed off after noticing the party of Togedemaru from the lobby approaching from the opposite direction of the hallway and froze, grimacing along with his teammates. Fortunately, the rodents didn’t seem to pay any mind. The leader of the bunch in his Heavy Rotation Specs pushed open the door, affording a brief glimpse of a Togedemaru almost the size of an Electrode locked in heated argument with a Quaquaval.

    “40,000 Poké?! What sort of highway robbery is this?! It was 20,000 last time!”

    “Regional Leader Baan not have time for such nonsense,” the Togedemaru inside scoffed. “Look, if bird person’s ‘Club Highmore’ need so many Lansat Berries on such short notice, bird person more than welcome to try and find different supplier. Go ahead and tell Baan how that work out afterward!”

    The door slammed shut after the party of Togedemaru made their way in, as muffled shouts back and forth continued from the other side. Dalton shook his head and continued on. He supposed he should’ve been less surprised that Pokémon from the Roly-Poly Caravan would be up to sordid business after the deal they walked in on in Moonturn Square, but getting involved with them again—while that giant Togedemaru was with them no less—sounded like a terrible idea if he’d ever heard one.

    “Well, decorum of a sort, anyways. Though it’s probably for the best to avoid getting involved in anyone’s problems while we’re here.”

    Everyone else was quick to agree as they eagerly put distance between themselves and the Togedemaru’s room, even if something about the encounter stuck with the Heliolisk. ‘Regional Leader Baan’? Dalton swore he’d heard the name get brought up in relation to the Roly-Poly Caravan before, but he couldn’t place his finger on when or where.

    Dalton and his teammates carried on up to a fork in the hallway, when the Heliolisk glanced at the doors and noticed that the numbers on them were starting to go up. 241, 243… that was weird, had they just missed their room?

    “Scales, I’m pretty sure that our room’s this way.”

    Dalton turned his head and saw Kate waving from the other end of the fork as Lyle and Irune followed after her. He paused a moment after feeling a shot of pain run through his splinted arm, when he thought he heard voices coming from nearby.

    “For gods’ sake Hesper, you’re supposed to be the responsible one between us,” a rough, draconic-sounding voice grumbled. “What on earth was in that paint you got? This crap’s like black tar!”

    “Deva, calm down. It blends in with my fur and nobody noticed it on you when we came in. And since when were you one to complain about bending the rules of professionalism dealing with the scum in this hive?” the second, yipping voice answered.

    Dalton froze after realizing the noise was coming from a small pinhole in the wall just next to him. The speaker’s accent was strangely neutral, to the point where he couldn’t tell what Provinz he was from. It was almost as if it were rehearsed somehow.

    Though ‘paint’? ‘Professionalism’? Maybe he was jumping to conclusions, but were those two talking about the-?

    “Scales! Are you coming or what?”

    Dalton flinched briefly after hearing Kate’s voice calling from down the hallway and seeing her poke her head around the corner. The voices in the room went silent as Dalton quietly slipped off, picking up pace as he made his way further down the hallway. He rounded the corner where one of the doors was already left open with a simple metal key left in the lock. He stopped to grab it and made his way in, shaking his head.

    “Okay, so it should go without saying, but while we’re here, let’s make a point of not bothering the Pokémon from the neighboring roo…”

    He trailed off as he walked past the doorway. There was a simple table with four chairs without backs in front of a window… with a view of other, shuttered windows built into repurposed ruins just outside, along with the trash-littered alleyway below them. Hardly a view worth writing home about, but judging from the heavy shutters and curtains next to it, he guessed that wasn’t a big priority for most visitors here at the Möbius.

    No, what really caught his attention was how the room had four beds set out. Not piles of straw, but ones with actual headboards and mattresses and pillows like the ones his parents had had at home during better times. Lyle and Irune were poking and prodding at a pair of them while Kate was already sprawled out on her stomach on the one nearest the door. She pulled a pillow forward and rested it under her chin, kicking her feet in the air with a wide grin.

    “Heh, not a bad place we stumbled across!” she said. “You’re all welcome, by the way.”

    “Yeah, yeah, just don’t get too comfortable,” Lyle harrumphed from beside the table. “Even if we didn’t have limited time to work with in this city, we cleaned out a good chunk of our money just paying for the night here. I’d be surprised if we had half of it left after that bill for damages comes.”

    The Sneasel picked up on her Quilava teammate’s irritable mood, and sat up, folding her ears with a quiet scoff.

    “Oh come on, Lyle? Why are you being such a downer after a hairy exit like that?” Kate scoffed. “What else can we even do right now aside from kick up our feet a bit?”

    “Worry about getting someplace that isn’t teeming with guards?” he retorted.

    It was hard to argue the Quilava’s point, really. Especially since Dalton wasn’t fully sure what the best way for them to get out of the Newangle City would be in their present circumstances. Even so, they’d been through a lot for one day already, to say nothing about the ones before it…

    “Maybe, but it might make sense to take a moment to breathe first,” Dalton insisted. “And besides, don’t we still need to claim our beds?”

    “Already did that while we were waiting on you,” the Quilava grunted.

    Lyle slung his bag onto the bed closest to the window to claim it, while Irune had gotten particularly far with arranging some of those glass beads and baubles of hers into a growing pile to curl around much to Lyle’s annoyance.

    Dalton supposed that was one way of settling where he’d be sleeping at night, even if couldn’t help but blink at Irune’s “treasure pile”. He knew that it was a habit of some younger Dragon-types to hoard colorful or shiny baubles, but this was certainly a lot more than he would’ve expected from a Pokémon like Irune. He honestly surprised that she wasn’t uncomfortable just resting on them directly like that.

    Though that reminded him… Part of the reason why they’d come here in the first place was because Irune was adamant she wanted to find out more about that strange power inside of her. He looked over at her and curled his mouth down into a wary frown.

    “Irune. You mentioned wanting to come here to find out more about yourself,” the Heliolisk said. “We likely won’t have the luxury of being here for more than a couple days at most. What specifically about you are you trying to find out more about? And are you sure that you need it that badly?”
    Dalton’s question hung in the air, as his teammates glanced back at him with Irune seeming particularly flustered. She sat up as her baubles clacked on the bed and gave an uneasy paw at the back of her head before speaking up.

    “I mean, we’ve got a long journey ahead of us still up to the Divine Roost,” she remarked. “I just figured that if I knew more about my power… maybe I’d be able to find a way to control it more? It could help us out when we have to go through Mystery Dungeons.”

    There was something about the Axew’s tone of voice that felt weirdly evasive. It wasn’t like those times when she’d choked and fumbled with her words while trying to lie to them, but Dalton got the distinct impression that she was hiding something. He frowned and shook his head with a low sigh.

    “That sounds like more of an argument to try and grab a less damaged copy of that handbook we stole off those Hunters,” he said. “Plotting a route isn’t an issue, getting there is. Why, if our bounties haven’t already been posted locally, we could even just post an escort mission at a local guild with the amount of money we have at the moment.”

    “Yeah, and if we’re really lucky, a weaker team will draw our request,” Kate remarked. “Could save us some gear and coin if we just rip ‘em off afterwards-”

    “No!”

    Dalton blinked after Irune as she blurted out her protest, turning and staring down at her alongside his teammates. She really must’ve wanted whatever she was trying to find out about her power to have a reaction like that. An awkward silence followed afterwards, as the Axew tripped over her words and flusteredly hemmed and hawed.

    “I mean, this is a large city. So if we’ve only got another day or two to work with, s-surely we should be trying to get a more surefire solution than just relying on some rookie rescue team’s map!”

    Yeah, no. She was definitely trying to hide something from them. Dalton turned his snout up and narrowed his eyes, before showing his splinted arm with a sharp frown.

    “In case you've forgotten, but I’m not exactly in a position to go out on a limb for anyone right now,” the Heliolisk retorted. “Whatever it is you wanted to look for here in Newangle City, you’d better give me a good idea of what it is and a really convincing argument for me not to just move on. Lyle, Kate, you two back me up on this one, don’t you?”

    Lyle didn’t say anything but leveled a long face over at Irune, while Kate pawed at her arm with a quiet click of her tongue.

    “I mean, I could be down for it if there was some good loot to snag,” she said. “But it would be easier to find whatever you’re after if we had some more specifics about what you were looking for.”

    Irune visibly flinched and blanched afterwards. Was she afraid of them knowing about what she was looking for? Why? What on earth could it possibly be that she wanted to keep it to herself so badly?

    Did she already know things about these powers of hers that she hadn’t told them about? If so, just what was she hoping to find?

    The room seemed to go quiet as Dalton waited for an answer, watching the Axew as she uneasily rubbed at one of her tusks.

    “I… Uh…”

    “Lemme guess, it’s also something you don’t want to tell us, like that journal you keep in your bag.”

    Irune abruptly whirled around towards Lyle, who stared at her with narrowed eyes. Irune kept a journal? Since when? Dalton blinked and traded puzzled stares with his teammates, before Irune glared back at the Quilava with a sharp shout.

    Lyle!

    “Oh come off of it! Everyone was going to find out about it eventually!” he snapped. “The point is, whatever it is you want to find out about yourself, you’re trying to be cute about it and leave us in the dark like you did in Primordial Woods!”

    Irune winced and visibly recoiled at the charge before looking away ashenly. That was probably a bit harsh of Lyle, but Dalton supposed that was one way of telling that the Axew had a sense of guilt over the trouble she’d brought onto others. The Heliolisk traded glances between the two and felt a pang of unease. Maybe it was just some sentimental part of him reacting, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit taken aback at the Quilava’s outburst.

    “Lyle, I think you’ve gotten your point across-”

    “No, we need this, Dalton,” he snapped. “To understand just where we are right now and where things stand for us as a team.”

    The Quilava folded his arms, irritated fire flickering along his vents as he shot a piercing scowl down at the younger Dragon-type.

    “We’re all going out on a limb at the moment, and you keeping things from us in the past already cost us since we teamed up!” he spat. “So if we’re really in this journey to the Divine Roost together, how about you explain what you want to drag us into here instead of trying to surprise us?”

    Irune hesitated, wavering as if she were standing at the precipice of a tall ledge. Or maybe that wasn’t the right point of comparison with how much she seemed to enjoy heights and tall places. She visibly weighed the words in her mouth, before she shook her head, and spoke up in a low tone.

    “I… guess you’ve all noticed those strange moves I’ve been using sometimes,” she murmured.

    “You mean those freaky light shows you’ve had every now and then?” Kate asked. “How could we miss them? They weren’t exactly subtle.”

    That was an understatement if Dalton ever heard one. But at the same time, Dalton wasn’t sure what on earth had happened on those occasions. He supposed he’d learned enough to know that an Axew’s Ether could be imprinted on to wield Fire Blast or Thunder Shock… but wielding it with the level of raw strength they’d seen from Irune which none of her other moves seemed to have? Or that almost feral demeanor she’d had when wielding it, as if she were being overtaken by her emotions?

    Dalton admittedly hadn’t gotten a good look at whatever Irune did to force Rankar off of him back in Primordial Woods, but he distinctly remembered the fire she spewed in Errberk Village took on a cross-like shape. He couldn’t rule out for sure that it wasn’t just the heat distorting the surrounding air, especially since he didn’t have an explanation if it wasn’t one considering the stories he’d heard of in the past about fiery blasts that did carry that shape.

    He just knew that whatever Irune used back there, that it wasn’t a Fire Blast. And the way she’d been unable to answer Kate when she asked back in Errberk Village just confirmed it.

    “Was there something you wanted to say about them?” Dalton asked. “I realize that we’ve only been together for a few days, but there’s clearly quite a bit about you that we don’t know.”

    Irune pawed at her neck and looked away uneasily. She seemed visibly worried to keep talking, as if she was afraid of how they’d react. Dalton wasn’t sure whether it was better to be patient with her and let her come to terms on her own, or just to push her to be out with it. Before he knew it, the Axew made the decision for him, and began to speak up slowly and deliberately.

    “I don’t fully understand what’s happening myself,” she explained. “I suppose that others have told me their theories, but I don’t know how much stock I should put into them. I… don’t really want to talk about them all that much, when being open about them hasn’t always ended well for me over the last year.”

    She avoided their gazes the entire time, and it struck Dalton that she was reacting much like a cornered mark. More specifically like one of those marks that lingered with him afterwards and bugged him from not being able to rationalize away as being someone who had things coming to them. The ones which at a time when he thought this life was just going to be a short stint, he swore he’d never rob. When he could still entertain naive desires and ideals about being an Outlaw and how he’d have the luxury of being able to pick and choose who he stole from to get by.

    A time he was terrified of forgetting lest he become everything he was afraid of his parents thinking he was if they ever found out about his turn to banditry. If they were even still alive somewhere to pass judgment about it.

    “The Capital’s supposed to be full of knowledge from scholars and sages from across the ages, and if we found something about those powers, it’d be a way of knowing for sure one way or the other,” Irune said. “I just figured that since we were already here, it was a chance to finally get closure about things and deal with them as they are instead of how I want them to be.”

    Dalton hesitated after the Axew’s explanation. It didn’t have that faltering speech she’d had in the past when trying to mislead them, so knowing her, it was probably a truthful answer. Or at least one Irune thought was true. He supposed that it was only natural to want to try and piece things together when there was a part of one’s life that one didn’t fully remember or understand.

    “Irune, just how many books do you think there are out there about ‘Axew that use freaky-looking Fire Blasts and Shock Waves’?” Kate demanded. “Where would we even start looking to try and find that?”

    “... Books about myths and folklore, I guess,” Irune said. “Since I’m not sure when the last time something like this ever happened was.”
    Dalton raised a brow at the answer, but he supposed it wasn’t a bad place to start. They were trying to get to the Divine Roost and Irune’s pendant was apparently related to Kyurem somehow. That did certainly seem to be the purview of myths and folklore, even if he didn’t know if there were any books written about Irune’s predicament in particular, but he supposed he had an idea of where they might be if they really existed.

    “If that’s the case, we should try looking around at my old university,” he said.

    Kate and Lyle turned their heads and stared at Dalton incredulously for a moment. They must’ve been taken aback by his expression, since he could see Kate’s face furrowing into a skeptical scowl.

    “Seriously, Scales?” she scoffed. “I think we’d stick out a bit sitting in on classes, just saying-”

    “We’d ideally be trying to narrow down what to look for and find it around one of the nearby bookshops there,” he explained. “If we really find ourselves stuck, we could try our luck in the Royal Library.”

    That one got everybody’s attention, especially Lyle’s as he visibly flared up with a start. He shook his head, before narrowing his eyes with a low scoff.

    “The Royal Library? I’ll admit that I’m not familiar with Newangle City, but isn’t that the library the King and Hofstaat specifically use for themselves?” Lyle asked.

    “Look, not that I’m the type to shrink from risky infiltrations when I’ve gotten loot for my crew back from an army base before, but just how are we supposed to get into that?” Kate demanded.

    “I did say ‘if push comes to shove’. It’s not my preference, but we would be able to get into it,” Dalton explained. “It’s literally on the Upper Streets just above the university’s eastern edge. And students at Universität von Wahrheit are allowed access to it along with guests.”

    The Heliolisk fished through his bag briefly with his good arm, before he came across his badge from his university days. He held it up, and gazed down longingly at the tarnished, silvery metal.

    “And let’s just say that even if it’s been a while, I know enough Hightongue and expected mannerisms to at least get us in through the door,” he said. “I don’t know whether that will extend to being able to check a book out, but we have options for getting around that.”

    Dalton let his gaze linger on the image of the Reshiram in flight on it along with the runes stamped along the bottom of his university badge as his mind turned back to happier days. Days when he’d dared to hope that his studies would help keep his parents’ textile mill used to make for things other than army plates. He sighed and slipped it away. Those days were long gone, even if in the end, some good was still coming from it.

    “The point is, we know where to go and have options for finding what Irune’s looking for,” he said. “Beyond that, some of the books we’d be coming across would be valuable to fence since there’s always a market for texts among students, so there are some practical reasons for us to want to go there.”

    That was probably an oversimplification, since they’d still be going back into the Administrative District and stealing from it a second time. And they’d need to somehow smooth things over with the Thieves’ Guild if they ran into them again… or else be good at running away really quickly. But if they really were going to get out of the city once they were done, it was hard to think of better options and he doubted that Pokémon from the Thieves’ Guild like Igna or Ansel would want to get mixed up with places in the Administrative District. He studied the reactions of his teammates. They seemed a bit skeptical, but didn’t say anything in protest.

    “You had me at ‘valuable to fence’,” Kate said. “If I could rip off that asshole Tyranitar earlier today, a bunch of hoity-toity prisses shouldn’t be that much harder.”

    Dalton had to fight back a scowl at the Sneasel’s comment. Kate probably wasn’t wrong about it being easier to steal from around the University, but did she really need to phrase it like that? The Heliolisk turned his attention over to his Quilava teammate, who rubbed at one of his forearms with a hesitant look.

    “I… guess it could work, but what are we supposed to do if we have to use gear we stole in a fight?” Lyle asked.

    “We’d steal replacements, obviously. Preferably someplace outside the city after we leave it with how much trouble we’ve already gotten into,” Dalton said. “We ideally should be spending the night resting and planning things out a bit before making our move one way or the other. But I suppose there’s only one question that I still need answered…”

    He turned over to Irune, hardening his features with a stern frown.

    “How serious are you about this? Would you still be going on your own even if we weren’t there to help you?”

    Irune paused for a moment and blinked, though much to Dalton’s surprise, the Axew didn’t hesitate as much as he expected her to. She briefly tugged out her pendant before shaking her head and nodding back with a firm scowl.

    “Yes,” she replied. “This is something that I need to know, and I don’t think I’ll have another chance to find out for sure.”

    There was a moment of tense silence as the others on Team Forager traded uneasy glances with one another, before Dalton shook his head.

    ““Then let’s talk about ways to make this happen. Since from the way that the Thieves’ Guild chased us in here, we’re probably going to need to make it worth their while to let us leave in peace,” he said. “I might have an idea of how we can do that, but I can’t make any promises for how well it will work.”

    Irune blinked, before holding her head up with a puzzled tilt.

    “Oh?” Irune asked. “What do you have in mind, Dalton?”



    Author’s Notes:

    Words and Phrases

    1. Knogga - “Marowak”
    2. Iksbat - “Crobat”
    3. Bluthummer - “Blood Lobster”
    4. Serpiroyal - “Serperior”
    5. Hoffnungsträger - lit. “Hope’s-carrier”. Depending on context of use, can semantically mean “Bringer of Hope” or “Rising Star”.
    6. Silberstadt - “Zelba City”, derived by phonetic corruption. In a more faithful semantic translation, this would be “Silver City”

    Dialogue

    D1. “Wohl dem Menschen, der Weisheit findet, und dem Menschen, der Verstand bekommt.” - “Blessed are the people who find wisdom, and the people who receive understanding.”
    D2. “Von jetzt an werde ich dich beschützen. Ich bin bei dir. Für immer!” - “From now on, I will protect you. I’m with you, forever!”

    Teaser Text

    Newangle City, 19. Herbstmond, 1027 n. d. B.​

    To whom it may concern,

    It has come to my attention that your forces maintain unconventional contacts with this city’s less savory elements through elements in and adjacent to its so-called “Thieves’ Guild”. Due to concerns regarding the war effort against the Kingdom of Edialeigh, I find myself asking on behalf of His Majesty King Siegmund von Wahrheit to relay word to them to locate the Pokémon of interest whose descriptions are included with this letter.

    I don’t particularly care about the workings of such vermin or the so-called “Bluthummer” who commands their respect, nor do I care to find out the full history and details of whatever this arrangement is. Practical needs dictate that your and my forces are not forced to attempt to scour an entire city for these Pokémon, and as such, even if it means resorting to distasteful solutions.

    Your contacts need not know anything beyond the provided descriptions and that they are to task them to mount a heist from the Royal Library. What these Pokémon of interest are tasked with stealing is irrelevant, as long as at least the Axew among them is physically capable of walking through its doors so that she can be apprehended on-site.

    Kindly inform your contact that anyone involved in facilitating this apprehension will be amply rewarded both monetarily and by having any criminal records expunged. Anyone from their ranks found to be interfering with the capture or otherwise harming the welfare of the Axew in a way that prevents her apprehension will be dealt with as a perpetrator of high treasonᵃ against the crown.

    Further instructions and briefing will be relayed later this evening to whomever is relevant.

    - Urgent dispatch from Graf von Wellenhafen, Lacan Dragorans to the Viertelᵇ Sheriffs of Newangle City

    a. In German, the analogous concept of “high treason”, “Hochverrat” is used specifically to refer to treason that is committed against the internal structure or order of a state. e.x. participating in an attempted coup.
    b. Viertel - “borough”, “district”
     
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