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TEEN: Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Pathways of Aspiration [COMPLETE]

Chapter 16: Fight or Flight
"He said he'd be here a couple minutes ago, you still think he's going to come?"

The question was a passing remark, said over infrequent platters of rain against tiled roof and occasional small talk from their few surrounding occupants. The Seedy Pecha, a tavern based around the recreational area of the guild hall entirely too classy to live up to its namesake, provided a fine resting place for Bagon and Raichu. The day was young, the daily fruits of their labor collected, and any light that would of filtered through bar-side windows cut off by grey clouds, a seeming foreboding to both an oncoming storm, as well as the similarly tinted Charmander they would soon meet. Any pokemon fallen to the floor in inebriation from previous day's celebration had left, leaving Chimera and Argon nearly alone, lazing the time away in front of a well worn dartboard tacked to white brick walls.

"Eh, probably," Chimera replied, reaching for a tray of multicolored darts, much smaller than the ones he was usually acquainted with, "seemed like a 'mon who keeps to their word, wonder what he's been doing for the past–dammit..."

Three blue darts had been thrown at the board, with two haphazardly pinned to the one and six point sections respectively, while the most recent clattered to the floor with a dull thud. Two yellow darts had already earned his companion eighteen points, with a third soaring through the air to attach itself for a modest addition of three. With an indignant sigh, Chimera reached for a small collection of coins in his exploration bag and held it towards Argon. She eyed the Bagon with morose eyes, but accepted the coinage nonetheless,

"A-Are you sure? We are just playing for fun, I'm fine if you want to keep the stakes low."

"Of course," he replied, "I made the bet after all, can only blame myself if things go wrong. Though...I'm a bit surprised, it's not like you'd need to with my piss-poor throwing, but you could just levitate the darts into the board. Why don't you?"

She tilted her head at the question, closing her eyes to surround another yellow dart in a pink aura. The projectile meandered toward the board in a straight line, lodging itself perfectly in the center,

"Well...that wouldn't exactly be fair to you, would it? You probably still aren't used to using your short hands for throwing, and the barkeep already said you couldn't use your crossbow to shoot them."

"True enough," Chimera replied, chuckle accompanied by exchange of narrowed glances with an Octillery pouring drinks, "and I appreciate it. Though...while I like to believe a part of the reason we're limiting ourselves is that we're partners, work wise I mean, the main reason is because of the low stakes."

Though a tinge of embarrassment came with reminder of his poor performance, Chimera walked back to the board, retrieving darts for Argon and himself,

"It's an interesting topic at least. What do you say we make a new bet? Whoever gets the lower score this time pays the rent for the next three months."

"That's...not a bet you're likely going to win," Argon replied, scanning the Bagon's challenging smirk to find that he indeed was serous.

"Maybe, maybe not. Perhaps I can't throw a dart to save my life, perhaps I've been faking it for just this moment. I'm more trying to prove a point than anything. If we were to do this Argon, and it was completely allowed to levitate the dart, would you still not do it?"

Chimera was bluffing, that much was easy enough for her to tell. Just as in Uxie's cave, the Bagon's posture concealed his hands, in a failed attempt to hide the periodic shaking that seemed to plague his conscious in times of pressure or nervousness. And yet, the question still intrigued her. Assuming Chimera was somehow able to win, the consequences of upholding the dare would be dire. Her life, once relaxed in pace, would be interrupted with extra missions necessary to match the additional cost of living the Bagon necessitated. Of course, the opposite effect would occur if she were to win, and in her evolutionary abilities was the chance to make the rewards certain. Was upholding a sense of fairness correct, when there was a chance her livelihood could deteriorate so greatly?

"Yes," she replied, "i-it would suck if I lost, it really would, but it would be worse if I knew I won by not even giving you a chance. I mean...every pokemon is hatched with potential, it shouldn't matter what element you are, how tall you are, whether you can move things with your mind, this should be a game of skill."

Chimera was slightly perturbed by the response, but his grin soon returned,

"Fair enough, I can respect that. We're having fun right now, though when the cards are down, I'm worried things can get a little...grey."

A quint entrance chime directed both pokemon's attention to a familiar Charmander, dyed scales and concealed tail damp from early morning showers. He eyed the two with a smile, avoiding the barkeep's quizzical glances to take a seat near one of the elaborately crafted wooden tables near the tavern's corner.

"Speak of which..."

Without another word, Chimera and Argon joined him. A sense of unspoken tension from the previous night seemed to fill the room as orders were taken and drinks and meals served to all, but a toast proposed by the Charmander quickly alleviated this,

"To friends made and wounds forgiven. Before we start, I feel I should apologize for my behavior yesterday. Emotions and passions are a powerful thing, and despite how my blood boiled at the sight of you Chimera, I realize now I must suppress that part of myself if I am going to achieve my mission."

They both nodded, though Argon could see a slight hesitation in Chimera as their glasses clinked, a hesitation that she couldn't help matching after a couple of seconds. In the bowls before all three was the contents of a thick stew, consisting of bread, assorted vegetables, and especially small chunks of meat. Chimera dug in first using another tool constructed through his hobby of metallurgy, hosting three short prongs jutting out of the center handle that he would use to carry food to his mouth. Such a tool seemed to the Raichu completely unnecessary, but Chimera was adamant, chalking it up to one of the human customs he was unwilling to abandon just yet. Regardless, looking between Eoin and the forkful of food sent a shiver down her spine, all because of a single thought,

Meat

The minute cube of meat about to enter Chimera's mouth was, similarly to the Charmander across from her, dyed to conceal its pallid origins, having a brownish texture unbecoming to its true source. It was a well known fact that, while most meals consisted of root vegetables and berries, there were a small percentage of pokemon around Faire with carnivorous or omnivorous needs. The latter constituted herself and Chimera, wherefore she had informed the Bagon at his first meal that the only source moral enough to obtain this from was the mainland mystery dungeons. She raised her paw to Chimera before the food could enter his mouth, looking toward the Pallid as if she was caught committing a crime.

"Uh...Eoin," she said, "are you alright with us eating this? I-I mean, judging from where and who it comes from, I can understand if you'd take offense."

The Pallid eye's were centered on the bowl before him. The disgust in his frown was clear, though it was difficult to judge what part of the meal it was aimed at. Eventually, he turned back to Argon, holding a melancholic smile,

"No, it is...fine. We all have to eat, the carnivores have to devour some pokemon. In truth, that is not the worst of the problem, but I am getting ahead of myself."

Chimera for his part had frozen in place with his partners gesture. With the Charmander's approval, he chewed on the cube of meat, watching as his partner slowly lifted a paw to her own bowl to do the same.

"Well then," she said, "I guess now that we got that out of the way, you could give us your story? I-I just...I need closure. Ever since we met yesterday, there's been this voice in my head saying that I choose the wrong occupation, and that I'm not a good pokemon. I've hurt a lot of pallids in my time here, we both have, it very well could be right, but I need to know from you."

"You need not worry," Eoin quickly replied, "any pokemon would have done the same in your position, few would have actually taken the time to help me after they knew the truth. But anyway, I suppose I should open this preamble with a question."

Hasty glances from Eoin confirmed that none of the few pokemon around the tavern were paying the three any mind, and after a moments consideration he raised a hand to his goggles, letting white eyes stare toward both. The Pallid's posture drooped. His voice was slow and deliberate, tail subconsciously concealed between his legs as if he was about to bolt for the exit or hurl himself under the table,

"Do...do you believe that actions are defined by experience, or that instincts decide who you are able to be? Please be honest."

The question wasn't a surprise to either, though a moments consideration was necessary before Argon gave her opinion,

"I'd probably say the former. I-If this isn't some elaborate trick, you're a living testament to that. You aren't defined by where you come from, what species you are, or whether you can breathe fire out of your mouth. Or at least, you shouldn't be."

"Eh, for me it'd probably be a mix," Chimera replied, looking down to the pronged fork in his hand and the weapon at his side, "the place you come from, the body you inhabit, I think they each have different effects on how you act. It's...push and pull, deciding how much influence from each you're willing to accept and give up."

Eoin perked up slightly at the response, but any enthusiasm was quickly subverted when he keeled over to the table, holding a hand to his forehead as if to conceal a sharp pain. He raised the opaque goggles to his eyes, not giving either pokemon time to question the brief tapering of his pupils.

"I appreciate the sentiment. It does a great deal to inflame my heart with drive, though...I have not exactly given a good display showing the former to be true. I fear you were right in a way Chimera, of what you said yesterday, more so than you could possibly imagine."

The remark only exasperated the quizzical stares shared between Bagon and Raichu, causing Eoin to shoot from his seat, glass raised for another toast,

"It matters not, all that can be dealt with later. Anyhow, I am sure you both remember what happened after we first encountered each other below Uxie's Cave, correct?"

The recollection brought a cringe to Chimera's face, but he spoke first,

"I let you go, Argon offered you that tamato berry, then you walked off the way we came with my badge in your hand?"

"Correct. From what I can tell, most of my kind are like the ones you usually encounter: thoughtless, aggressive, unforgiving, and nonexistent after the mystery dungeon resets. A few of us, however, go through this...process. Many times our aggression remains, but we start to see things differently. We discover power in knowledge, morality in kindness, and utility in learning. Something in my mind, I do not know what, told me that I wanted to live, and that the badge in your hand was the ticket to all of it."

A strange sensation fluttered in Argon's chest, one that consisted of equal parts relief and anxiety. If what Eoin said was true, then she hadn't spent the last four years beating creatures as sentient as herself into unconsciousness in self defense. Despite this, the thought occurred that perhaps the sapience Eoin had shown was hidden inside the occasional pallid. Just one month ago they had shoved a stun seed inside the mouth of a transformed bagon and left it to the whims of the mystery dungeon, was there a chance that bagon had the potential to speak just as well as the one next to her?

"But...something's not right," Chimera said between bites, "even if you were somehow able to figure out how to use the guild badge, how did you get here? More than that, how did you even learn to speak? Awakened or not, it would be next to impossible to learn all that in a month, combined with all that other stuff you supposedly learned."

"You are correct in that belief. It would have been impossible to learn all I know in such a short time, if not for the help of a certain friend. You remember Uxie, correct?"

Again, they nodded, eyes a mix of shock and disbelief putting the pieces together,

"We encountered Uxie at the end of the dungeon. Long story short, we convinced hi—it to leave in order to discover the secrets of life outside of the cave, we haven't spoken since," said Argon.

"I suspected as much," Eoin replied, raising a hand to his chin,"I still remember that look the lake guardian gave to me on that tiny isle, after my ignoramus brain finally figured out how to get that damn badge to work. I was tired, isolated, barely more than feral at that point, and I suppose it found pity for me. I now realize how similar we really were with your claim; two pokemon entering an entirely new world, one a divine being with the power of knowledge and illusions, another a grey charmander lost in an ocean of distrust."

Chimera chuckled at the story, not in humor or malice, but understanding,

"I guess that makes three of us then. I'll spare you the details, but I can relate to entering a world you know very little about."

"M-Maybe that's why Uxie was so open to you?" Argon commented. "She left us without a trace after exchanging an...item."

"Perhaps. I would likely be as intelligent as a hatchborn had Uxie not shared with me the same ability it used at the start of civilization. I did not know what it was then, only that after that pokemon closed its eyes and dove into my mind, I truly was transformed. I cannot begin to describe how euphoric it was. Imagine spending the sum of your life trudging through a fog, judging your actions on a blind whim not being able to see past the immediate, then having that gone in an instant."

The Pallid's eyes shot towards the window in silence. Condensation had since formed from the omnipresent evening rains, concealing what would be an upper view overlooking the guild hall courtyard. As if to illustrate his point, Eoin ran his hand over the window, wiping the collection of moisture onto the table. The courtyard could now be clearly seen to all, though continuing showers as the Charmander sat down made the fog return as quickly as it had left.

"With the legendary's help, I stowed away on the Draeke, staying on even after you two had left until it made a voyage to the Eastern Faire region. The thirst for knowledge, the need to learn everything I could about the world I now called home was...undeniable. It was overwhelming, but somehow manageable so, if that makes any sense. Uxie helped me along the way of course, brought in books for me to read in the dead of night, disguised my color to those who would be suspicious, helped me attain the items that kept my origins safe. We have since parted ways, though I hope we will meet again."

"So you're a bookworm then," Chimera said, cracking a smile, "the Charmander that growled at me below Uxie's cave developed a greater interest in reading than I, impressive..."

"Having to take in so much in a short time, I-I can't imagine what it's like. What's your favorite book to read then?" Argon asked, similarly interested.

A half second passed when Eoin's mouth opened to respond, but where words should have appeared only came a dull moan. Again, the Charmander's head keeled over toward the table, accompanied by him clutching at his chest and a deep shiver running down his spine.

"I-I...dear Arceus, please not now, not this soon."

Eoin's hands shot toward the bag at his side, drink bumping off the table with a crash as he dug through its contents,

"Where is it? I thought I brought—oh no...how could I have been so careless?"

"Eoin," Argon exclaimed, shooting to her feet at the display, "do you need medical attention? What can we do to help yo—"

"Stun seeds!" the Pallid shouted. "do you have any?"

Argon and Chimera rummaged through their bags, producing only disappointed looks. A glance at the barkeep Octillery saw he was already talking into a silver speaking tube built into the guild hall walls,

"So be it then," Eoin said, shooting out of his seat onto the tavern floors, "there's no time. I must tell you while I am still here. My mission, I implore you both to accompany me on a mission to the Eastern Faire mainland! I have seen things...horrible things you will have to experience to believe."

He clamored to his feet, concealed eyes searching desperately for isolation. The Charmander's request was granted by the marble door to a storage closet on the far side of the tavern. Every step of Eoin's sprint to the room seemed to bring another surge of pain into his conscious, but his course remained. The door was forced open as quickly as it was slammed shut, leaving only Argon to look at her partner, gawking expression at the scene being returned,

"What should we do?" Chimera asked.

She considered the possibilities. The Pallid was obviously in distress, though provoking him at a point like this could potentially worsen the problem. Deep groans could be heard even through the thick marble door however, and not attempting to provide aid or at least find the problem would be even worse. Had it been most other pokemon, she would have been content to leave it to the guild professionals, but just as the Pallid had stated, he was in a sea of distrust. There was only one other pokemon Argon knew that Eoin was unlikely to respond negatively to in his time of need, and unfortunately for her, that legendary had long since taken its leave.

"I-I'll follow him, see if I can find out whats going on. We don't know what he's going through, but we don't want to seem like we're cornering him."

"Oh...right," the Bagon replied, "that's probably true. I'll be here to pull you out if you need me then, answer any questions they have about our new 'friend'. I'm willing to bet he doesn't want his secret being leaked out."

She nodded, putting one foot in front of the other toward the closet. The groaning had ceased, but in its place was a dull, whispering moan, accompanied by claws scraping against stone wall. Short breaths gave way to long inhalations in an effort to calm her nerves, ending with a sharp creak as a paw laid on the silver door handle slowly forced it open.

"Eoin," she said, oran berry dug out of her bag in hand, "we're here to help you, we just need you to tell us what's happening."

The Charmander had curled up into the room's corner, knocking over a broom against one of the wooden shelves on either side in the process. His head shot up at the voice, and the goggles haphazardly clawed off his eyes fell to the floor. Recognizance of the speaker's identity forced the Pallid to turn even more inward, concealing a millisecond look of horror to forces unknown,

"Please," he pleaded, "shut the door, barricade it, knock me out if you have to. It could be a couple minutes before the effect fades, or a couple hours. The beast...I cannot afford to let him escape."

The door shut, and Argon raised both paws to Eoin gently,

"The beast? I don't want to hurt you Eoin. Y-You can't mean—"

"There's no time. I—aaargh."

Eoin's head dropped for the last time, subdued scream giving way to a chittering growl. Dyed scales trembled, legs twitched, and grey fire blared. The Pallid looked upward with bared teeth and lunged, cramped conditions of the closet not giving Argon enough to maneuver. Both pokemon fell to the floor with a thud. Sparks crackled preemptively from the Raichu's cheeks as the Charmander's arm raised, just about to strike when their eyes met. For a split second, blue and narrow grey pupils stared toward each other just as they had against the looming stalagmites of an underground lake. Neither said a word, hostile look in the feral's eyes fading into a sense of understanding between the two. Before she could question the situation, three knocks thudded against the door, accompanied by the familiar voice of her partner through the walls,

"Are you alright? There was a loud noise, do you need my help?"

"No," she replied, "I...I'm fine."

She said it again, as though testing to see if she was lying. The Charmander's claws were still raised in a striking position, but it lay still, head cocked to the side and eyes wide. Whatever the creature over top her she was staring at was, it wasn't Eoin. Or...perhaps it was, just not the Eoin she had grown accustomed to on the ballroom floor. Regardless, it slowly reverted to its feet, paranoid glare not leaving its face as it retreated to the far corner of their confines. Halfway to the room's end, the Pallid ran a foot from one room-side shelf to another, punctuating the statement with a growl in what she could only assume was a crude marking of territory. Argon was happy to agree with the declaration, and she likewise sat down opposite the Charmander, back leaned against marble door.

The Pallid was just as anxious as when Eoin first entered the room, though she suspected this was for different reasons. The creature was cornered, and it knew it, no amount of familiarity could change that fact. If the Charmander's flame was any indication of its agitation, Argon suspected she could cook a three course meal fueled by its own dread. It wouldn't be long for the feral to decide to reengage if nothing were done to quell its nerves. Luckily for her past experience, accompanied by a childhood affinity for spicy foods seemed to provide a solution.

Argon closed her eyes, letting three red-spiked berries float out of her exploration bag. Its head immediately perked up, temptation taking the place of fear with salivating lips. In accordance with their territorial agreement, she levitated the berry into the Charmander's hand, and exchanged wary smiles after it had fully devoured the tangy food. She did likewise with the second berry, though stopped at the third. The purpose of this whole exercise, she figured, was establishing trust between her and the strange reversion Eoin had endured, and a part of the Raichu's mind was morbidly curious how far she could push it. The pink glow around the third berry faded, and she instead held it in her hand toward the Pallid. The gesture brought a quizzical chirp, but eventually instinct for food overcame apprehension, and the Pallid rose to its feet to walk to her side of the closet.

"I-uh...I hope you enjoy it, not-Eoin, it's the last one I have."

Judging whether the Pallid had understood the remark was impossible, but it accepted the berry nonetheless, again beaming a toothy grin half layered with its chewed contents. Argon expected the Charmander to return to its side of the room, but it lay dormant on its feet. In a way, this was her second reunion with the Charmander below Uxie's Cave, and when a creature was neither able to flee nor willing to fight, familiarity again overcame apprehension. It dropped to all fours, tail flame placating below its metal confines to lie its whole body down on the floor, right on top of her lap.

"Eoin?!" Argon yelped.

Her bargain had payed off, perhaps even more so than she wanted. Its once greedy smile had morphed into tranquility, and if her hearing still worked, the rumbling chirps coming from the Pallid sounded all too similar to purring. A part of her wanted to back away at the absurd gesture, but the Charmander on her feet, as well as the strange warmth its scales provided, made such movement impossible...and somewhat undesirable. She was trapped, that much was clear, the Pallid nearly as tall as her with eyes closed and tail swishing against stone floor had done a better job at ensnaring her movements than any seviper or tangela inhabiting the mystery dungeons of her daily life. A Raichu who was never one for physical affection, Argon lifted her paws to avoid disturbing the Charmander. It took notice, and the Pallid's eyes opened a smidge, chirping slightly as it craned its neck in her direction with anxious breaths. A quick yelp again escaped her mouth, and she looked between her paw and the way the Charmander in her lap's neck twist and turned, words not being needed to convey the clear request,

"E-Eoin? If you're still in there, I'm not sure I should—"

It only let out a soft growl, body curling to pull deeper into the odd embrace. She had known Eoin for barely over a day, and a part of her felt that he was not in a state to make fulfilling its instinctual desires moral. On the other hand, he had informed her that the effect wouldn't be permanent, and keeping the Pallid in a state that wouldn't make it want to bolt out of the closet and attack the first pokemeon in sight, not to mention revealing his secret, remained top priority. With a large breath equal part hyperventilation and yawn, she lowered a paw to its neck and started to scratch. Perhaps they could both forget what happened later?

The effect was immediate. Its tail swished with greater intensity, and breaths quickened to signal a great release of tension. Three knocks again emanated from the marble door at her back, and with a seconds hesitation she shouted back that the situation was within hand. Time passed, and after deliberation with her partner through the wall Chimera walked off, agreeing that visiting a certain Girafarig would be necessary if they were to investigate Eoin's request. After an hour of Raichu and Charmander maintaining the awkwardly comfortable position, light snoozing slithered from its mouth, warmth from its scales forcing Argon to succumb to a similar effect. The adrenaline that had pervaded her body at the start of the encounter faded, bringing with it a quiet contentment that belayed notion of what consequences the reversion would bring.

It ended when the Charmander turned, yawning as blue and wide-grey eyes met each other after hours of sleep. Argon's paw lay dormant on Eoin's neck mid-scratch, and if there were any sewing pins stored on the shelves between them, the ensuring silence would let both of them hear it drop.

"Eoin?" she asked.

"...Yes."

Shit.

The thought was mutual, and in an instant Eoin broke away from the hold, scrambling to retrieve the goggles knocked under one of the shelves.

"Arceus, you were not supposed to see that. The beast...I attacked you, did I not?"

"No actually," she responded, "W-Well, you charged at me, but you stopped. I guess I was able to keep you calm enough that...well you know."

Eoin froze, face locked in incredibility before looking downward to sneer at his own claws. He sat down next to Argon, taking great care to maintain a distance between the two that wouldn't bring back what had just transpired.

"It matters not. I...cannot hide my hypocrisy to you any longer. The gift Uxie bestowed upon me, while tremendous, was not perfect. The recursions...the one you just saw, they come with unpredictable intensity. I have been able to subdue its aggression with isolation and stun seeds until this moment."

Eoin's head drooped, and he snorted towards the metal contraction concealing his grey flame, before readjusting his goggles to hide from Argon's passive stare,

"For all my talk of civilization, of honor, of knowledge, I cannot escape the fact that deep down, I am just as feral as the Charmander that attacked you underneath that cave, your friend was right..."

"I...I'm not sure that's the truth, at least not the whole of it," she replied, drawing a puzzled look from Eoin, "I-I mean, I've lived my life with expectations of what pallids are, and I can say for certain that you've subverted all of them. Regardless of what just happened, that shouldn't change all that you've done, or make you any less of the Charmander who learned to talk and dance."

"But—"

Again, he looked toward his tail, seeing his own reflection in the warped surface,

"But he is—I am dangerous. If it had not been you, if it had been your friend or anyone else, I would have attacked as unrelentingly as any other of my kind. How can I accomplish my mission if I cannot even refrain from assaulting those who trust me? I do not deserve to be trusted."

"Well then...you'll just have to learn how," she said blankly, attempting to convey understanding, "I can try my best to help you, find out what's causing you to act like that and put a stop to it. Pokemon can change. I've always thought you choose who you are, and you've chosen to be better, that's enough to earn my trust."

Eoin's head remained locked to the floor despite the flattery, seemingly lost in his own expression. In the ensuring silence Argon raised her paw above the neck of the Charmander beside her, before lowering it back to her side, thoughts raging on whether he would appreciate the gesture. Again, her paw hovered just above the back of the Pallid's neck, and again, it retreated to her side. The cycle nearly repeated until Eoin noticed the attempts, melancholic chuckle accompanied by a nearly imperceptible nod.

"You really believe that?" he asked, turning away to hide his smile as instinctual euphoria carried through his spine. "You are more generous than most."

"Of course. And I suppose that the first step to that is going through that whole mission you've been talking about. Life's been...pretty nice in the past month, but if there's anything Chimera taught me, it's that variety is the spice of life, can't spend everyday cooked up inside of a room this small."

The Pallid's smile seemed to fade with recognizance of the road ahead, but quickly returned as she returned the gesture. There weren't any windows to corroborate, but Argon could sense that, for the time being, the clouds had rolled by.
 
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Alright, getting back into this. I don’t have much to say about the chapter right after the illusions are dropped. It was anticlimactic, but at the same time, I didn’t really see it going any other way. I think it was a bit refreshing to see Chimera and Argon basically talk their way into victory here. I think you handled Uxie abandoning his post pretty well—though I suppose that’s a bit biased coming from me, when I basically have the same logic going on for my centuries-long guardian archetypes.

My only nagging question is how the Time Gear actually operates. At first, Uxie says that he’s guarding it here to make sure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands and it isn’t taken away. There’s even talk about not messing with it. Yet, when we finally get down to it, Uxie just… gives it to them. And nothing happens when the Gear is removed. I was hoping that Chimera—aware of the games—would make some sort of comment about time freezing if the Gear was removed or something, since that didn’t really happen.

Now then, onto chapters 12 and 13, I gotta say… you do well at being unpredictable. Like, really well.
Argon tossing the Time Gear. Them accepting Gold Rank. Them even staying together as a team. I legit wasn't sure which way you'd go. And that's powerful. I really like the fact that I can read this story and not really predict how it’ll turn out scene by scene unless you clearly want me to—for example, the scene with the Stun Seeds, I knew the ending from the start, but I still loved how it played out for how silly that chapter was. I liked the tone there.

On to some little critiques, though, I have two things--one on the mechanics side, one on the storytelling side. Major one first: your characters, at times and during some key moments, behave conveniently, so to speak. What I mean is, their emotions come fast, and come when it's most impacting to the plot, and sometimes they don't have as much foreshadowing as, perhaps, the could have taken.

Using the Argon scene--it seemed really odd and convenient for her to be getting those feelings, then, and not earlier, or perhaps later. I later learned that it's because she's afraid of what it means to be in gold rank, and not necessarily the Time Gear itself--and that, I feel, could have been outlined a bit more clearly, since it was so vagueish in the midst that I actually wasn't sure.

This sorta ties in with that early criticism I had about Chimera suddenly pouring his emotions out to Argon within minutes of first meeting. It's the same issue, actually--their rapid ebb and flow of emotions could use more buildup.


As for the minor thing, on the mechanics side--and this is particularly pronounced during chapter 12--the way you describe scenery and movements can get wordy at times! I think what's going on is you get so involved in describing exactly how someone is moving or feeling at specific things that you lose sight of how much the reader can reasonably envision before they sorta muddle the details into a vague picture anyway.

Now, this is more a stylistic choice. Some people like it wordy. Others, less so. But we talked about this in private, and I think you know what I mean about all this. For all I know, I’m just one of those impatient readers who goes, “Yes, yes, I get the picture—next line please!” while others wouldn’t mind basking in a couple extra sentences.

And then I got to the next three chapters and… my goodness. I’m… basically fully invested in this story at this point. My god, you’ve hit a ton of good points to keep me interested for a while, so long as you answer a few of them as the chapters progress. I can tell you’re setting up for the next few arcs, and I love it.

So first thing, obviously, good job overall with how you introduced Eoin. I didn't quite piece it together at first for some reason, but in hindsight it makes perfect sense. Really good work. He was the start of these past three chapters and you did well with showing basically an intro to who he is, as well as delving into the mystery about him--basically that he's part of a "rare pallid" that doesn't simply cease after a Dungeon resets, and has persisted long enough to have some teeny tiny semblance of sapience, and then Uxie gave a jump start after that.

Very cool concept, I knew it was Uxie pretty early on, but yeah, curious how that'll go, and what you'll do with the Pallids as a whole with this new piece of knowledge. And how this ties into why Dungeons are around in the first place, and so on. So many questions, implicit and explicit, and that's the mark of my kind of writing, in a way, heh..

Now, onto two small things that I’ve noticed. It’s still a bit wordy, but that’s beside the point, and you’re definitely getting better on that front. The first issue that I noticed is how, sometimes, you’re a bit heavy-handed with the philosophy 101 course. There isn’t a lot of buildup toward it—even if in hindsight the question is warranted—and I sort of got flashbacks to my Philosophy classes back in college. It seemed too… I don’t know. Oddly out of place and out of the blue when they happen, and then to go so in depth about it. I feel like you could explore these things in more subtle ways or, at the very least, using dialogue that’s more casual.

Next up, as much as I really like how our Charmander is turning out as a character, Chimera and Eoin first meeting felt like a big Conflict Ball. Basically, a point in the story where characters are conveniently opposed to one another despite logic dictating that a de-escalation would have been a lot more likely. I understand that Eoin is a tad feral and Chimera is a hothead, but Argon was right there. I feel like after a month together he’d have more trust in her, being alone with Eoin, that she was safe and all that. So this sorta ties in to “convenient emotions,” but this was another instance where the conflict felt a bit unnecessary and contrived. I did give it a pass overall because Chimera was drunk, and you implied well enough that Eoin was still a smidge feral at that moment, but you could have done a bit more for Chimera’s behavior. I don’t know—it’s getting a bit difficult to sympathize with him. Keep ‘im in line, Argon.

Still, regardless of those two issues, I see a TON of potential here. I’m following this for sure. Go Eoin! Conquer your instincts! Rise above that bloodlust! I’m totally not biased or anything about this!
 
Chapter 17: Nature's Beauty
"Beautiful, isn't it, old chum?"

The rains had stopped, letting morning fog clear to give the two pokemon on the upper balcony of the WFG hall a view of Pith Town and beyond. White-stone buildings of nearly identical size with red-tiled roofs extended outward. Expanding as such were congested inner streets, ceasing only with the presence of oceanside harbor on one corner, or monumental factories on the other. Chimneys jutted out of the structures in the distance, releasing grey smoke that drifted in the wind like octopus tentacles. Nearly concealing by this exhaust was a massive blob of green to the east. Chimera would have indeed admitted that it was an impressive sight, if not for the fact that the Bagon standing next to Binair over silver balcony rails had his head locked straight down. His eyes didn’t blink, nearly lost within the call of the void.

"Most any other bagon I've known would have jumped by now; why haven't you?"

It was a question the former-human had been considering heavily in the past month. The first time he had done it, sightseeing on that familiar cliff side with his companion; next to her one moment and with rocky forehead dug into the beach below the next, it was more a matter of satiating boredom. As frail as his new body was, a certain routine had developed in the Bagon's free time, despite having grown inconsistent as the days went on.

"I...don't know, not really. I can still feel it looking over the edge, this shot of adrenaline crawling up my spine. But when I hit the ground, there's only a shiver. Something in my mind...this feeling is telling me that what I'm doing is wrong, that it's against my nature."

Binair walked next to Chimera, occasional glances shifting to the weapon at his side and the grey cape over his back,

"If we're to analyze this dilemma, old chum, we have to figure out the cause. You know that bagon jump in order to prepare their bodies for evolution, correct? To harden their cells so their forehead grows into a cocoon that protects the development of their wings?"

Chimera nodded, not shifting his head from the entourage of pokemon below walking into the guild hall entrance. With Binair's info came another cringe, tiny hands shaking with the morning breeze,

"Of course. Just last night I told someone that they couldn't always fight nature, and that it was in my nature to jump, but the more I do it, the more I realize my mind is shouting at me that it isn't right. I don't understand."

A pink aura emanated around Chimera's crossbow, shocking him from the trance of below. Peripheral vision showed that a similar light had appeared on the Girafarig's horns.

"May I?"

Chimera gestured in approval, letting the device unsling from his waist and float in front of Binair. The Girafarig's eyes narrowed analyzing its inner mechanics from every angle, ending with a smile toward the pokemon at his side.

"Fine craftsmanship no doubt. And I think we've come to the source of your conflict old chum. You have a particular talent for working with your hands, and with this comes a question you've yet to answer: Do you even want to evolve?"

"Well, if I did," Chimera replied, flashing a grin to Binair somewhere between humor and melancholy, "I figured I could just mount a giant ballista to my back, how hard could it be?"

The Bagon turned back toward the ground, letting cool air swish past his scales as he tried to parse whether the way his breaths quickened and his vision narrowed was due to excitement, or dread, or perhaps both. If keyboards still existed in this universe, Chimera figured his words per minute would already suffer with arms and fingers as short as they were, never mind having neither at all. On the other hand, their foes were bound to become more formidable if they were to accept Eoin's offer, and not having access to his elemental abilities had been a source of frustration since his arrival. He closed his eyes and sighed, focus stuck between the stubby appendages he could feel and the crimson-red ones he couldn't, unsure which path to take.

"Huh," he said, turning back to Binair with a snort, "In all seriousness I'm not sure. God...am I really like that pikachu?"

"I beg your pardon, what pikachu?"

"Forget about it. Anyway I've avoided the issue until now, even to my partner, but I think I'll have to say no. If nature is something that forces me to lose my arms...then I'll fight it, even if it makes me a disappointment."

The Bagon expected Binair to object the statement, or at least nod in disapproval, but on his visage instead appeared a nearly imperceptible grin.

"On the contrary, I couldn't be happier, old chum. I'm willing to bet you aren't fighting your nature at all, only you're more of a chimera than most realize."

Chimera nodded and returned the grin, but his hands shook even more with the Girafarig's praise. Something about the way he said it seemed...off, like a teacher spouting vague generalities to lead a student to the correct answer.

"What do you mean by that?"

Binair's grin only grew, accompanied by an ornate cane levitating from his side to direct the Bagon to the town below. Chimera's vision followed the pointer. He saw a group of pokemon in the harbor stacking crates onto a three-sailed supply ship, most adorned with tricorns or other appropriate headgear. On the grassy field below was another group, with a Breloom that had thrown his croquet mallet to the ground in frustration just as he had one month ago. Past furnished houses and paved streets was a Meowth, returning to town with soot on its face from being in one of the dirtier factory positions,

"The world we live in, the games we play, the culture we appreciate, doesn't it seem the least bit...familiar, to a pokemon such as yourself?"

The answer in Chimera's mind was a yes, if only tentatively. The glazed over stare the Chatot that organized their missions gave hunched over a stack of papers was a familiar one, and the vessels, fashion, and infrastructure throughout Pith Town seemed to be ripped straight from a history book, but he'd be lying to say there were no differences. Just the concept of a mystery dungeon had no equivalent to the world he once knew, and the various tools he had crafted along his journey often drew wandering looks from pokemon that had the power of flight or fire at their figurative fingertips. A second passed until the repercussions of Binair's question followed Chimera's conscious, arms shaking ever more despite his attempts at keeping a straight face. He wanted to keep it a secret, something only his partner would know, but the grin on the Girafarig's tail conveyed what its face couldn't,

"You...you know, don't you?"

"How could I not, old chum?" Binair replied, hoof raising to pat what part of a bagon could be considered its shoulders. "The way you fight, the way you think, I've studied humanity enough to know that this weapon isn't something native to this world. The reason you've arrived has yet to be revealed, but rest assured, your secret’s safe with me."

The weapon levitated back into Chimera's hands, helping to alleviate their quivering. Had the former-human's secret been known to most other pokemon, terror would have stricken his heart, but there was a sense of familiarity in Binair's grin that he couldn't put his finger on, one that assured him that the Girafarig was both genuine and able to be trusted with maintaining it. They both turned outward, looking upon a world as recognizable as it was foreign,

"Knowledge is a beautiful thing, wouldn't you say? And with knowledge, comes power. In the days before the WFG, most pokemon wouldn't give two figs about humanity's history, but I think we both see now that they were fools. Success doesn't come to many, but when one understands the economy of the caravel, the efficiency of the assembly line, and all the other innovations and systems that humanity took thousands of years to develop, one need only know the sacrifices of integrating them into a world such as this to prosper."

He recognized the feeling: the satisfaction of brewing curiosities being satiated just as they had talking to his partner in the dead of night. Just as before, answers brought even more questions. The most important difference, the Bagon figured, of living in a world privy to such a crude emulation was that, for once, he was on the right side of it.

"But...how did that knowledge even get here?"

"An interesting story, but one for another time," Binair replied. "Right now, I figured we should discuss your purpose for coming here."

"Oh, of course. Argon and I met this Charmander yesterday, and I think he wants us to go on an expedition with him to that island: Eastern Faire. We've been there before, but only to the mystery dungeons around the coast, and he seems pretty adamant that we head into the mainland. I came here to see if you have any missions available that would fit the bill."

For probably the first time since their initial meeting, Binair seemed shocked. His poised grin soon returned, but for barely a second, the Girafarig froze up, as if the calculations going through his mind had taken priority over keeping his two faces locked in a cordial demeanor. He cantered around the balcony in a pause to consider his options that Chimera couldn't determine as genuine or pretense.

"I must say, I wasn't expecting this proposal so soon, considering the nature of your partner, but it does make for a fine opportunity. As for a mission you three could go on...you remember the time gears, correct?"

"Of course," the Bagon replied with a chuckle, "I'm not sure what you're doing with them, but I am sure they would do a fine job at holding down paper."

"Very funny," came the deadpan reply, "If you're curious, I've been studying the one you and Argon returned, as well at holding it in protection against less scrupulous pokemon. From what I can ascertain, their presence is in someway related to the existence of mystery dungeons, and if they are brought together, the full extent of the powers they each contain will be discovered."

Chimera could see where it was going, though thought of their inevitable mission came with another resurgence of memories. His fingers twitched, contemplating the possibility that the yellow orbs that surrounded a Togetic would inevitably appear over him,

"Hey Binair, would-uh...would the name 'Temporal Tower' ring any bells?"

He blinked,

"I don't believe so, should it?"

A breath of relief escaped Chimera's mouth, whether from the Girafarig's ignorance or simply that whatever knowledge of prediction his memories had given him weren't perfect,

"No, it's just that...nevermind. So you want us to get more of the time gears, how many are there?"

"Two," Binair replied, "not counting the ones you've already delivered, guarded by Azelf and Mespirit respectively. I'll tell you their locations when your team departs, but more importantly, I was hoping to accompany you for after the job is finished, to instruct you on a little side business someone with your nature would be well suited for."

"What sort of side business?" Chimera asked, tone shifting. "I can understand why, but you haven't been too keen to giving out details on missions like these."

A hoof again raised to Chimera's shoulder, followed by a hearty chuckle from the Girafarig directed toward nobody but himself,

"I prefer to think of it as on-sight instruction being the superior method. Just know that it's an essential position. Without it, our world would have never advanced to the prosperous state we enjoy."

Indeed, a light seemed to flash in the Bagon's eyes from the proposal, but it quickly extinguished with consideration of its consequences,

"It sounds interesting, but...I made a deal with Argon a while back, that we'd try to keep all our missions close to home, I think I might be breaking it by agreeing."

"But there's a difference this time," Binair replied, "you wouldn't have met me here unless you thought your partner must at least have some interest in going. With this, comes opportunity. If she approves of going on this mission, what harm is there in finding some industrious use of your free time?"

Chimera's head sank, taking great deal to not let it wander over the edge of the rails. His director was correct in that there wouldn't be harm in a single mission, but after staying with Argon to this point, it would be a shame to see it again snowball into an instance that again left their paths divided. On the other hand, the past month of missions had been as unchallenged as it was monotonous, and the Bagon figured that if it kept up for another year or two without something to break it up, he was bound to go stir crazy. His head returned upward, finding that the hoof once at his side was now suspended toward him, mimicking a gesture no other pokemon on Faire had yet understood,

"Care to shake on it, old chum? Forgive my bluntness, but I can see it in your eyes: that potential. That drive for more that proves we're two threads in the same stitch. I respect Argon's desire to appreciate the smaller things in life, I wouldn't have been able to mark my legacy without pokemon like her, but...you're different, and in my opinion it would be a waste to let this offer slide. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life where you are now?"

Chimera already knew the answer, even as his conscious considered the possibilities of where it would lead. He had made a promise to his partner, but he had also made a promise to someone he knew before all of this, illusion or not. If he played his cards right, the Bagon was hopeful he could uphold both. Without another thought, he grasped the Girafarig's hoof with his own stubby arm, resoluteness replacing the gesture's initial awkward nature.

"No, I don't. I suppose you can't fight nature."

---
​
Chimera was soaring through the air, or at least the next best thing, and so were his companions. After a brief rendezvous, Bagon, Raichu, and Charmander found themselves in a fragile, narrow box of wood and canvas construction. A large, green wing jutted out from each side of the frame, giving the glider flight despite the Bagon spotting not a single engine for propulsion. In its place, was a Fearow, Staraptor, and Pidgeot, all wearing harnesses tied to sections of the craft that kept it airborne for the vast amount of distance they had to cover.

“We’ll be dropping you three off at Mount Shayne in five minutes, hope you all don’t mind the cold!”

An omnipresent shudder ran through every passenger. Argon nodded toward the source of the warning: a speaking tube that ran alongside the Fearow’s harness through the tug rope and into the fuselage, barely able to convey the message against buckling canvas and winds. Chimera’s eyes remained glued to the window, gazing toward the top of the nearly endless canopy of trees precluding their destination that concealed whatever happenings occurred below. Eoin held his fire close as he cast a glance at the various crates contributing to the craft’s crowded nature. Though the Pallid’s doubts were the highest, hopefully Binair had been honest in his promise that no expense was spared in providing supplies for their journey.

“You know,” Chimera said, chuckling as he turned to the others, “I couldn’t stand traveling like this back in the day, now…”

He plastered his face to the window, in the process nearly breaking the glass with his rocky forehead. The exhilaration in the Bagon’s smile seemed like a bizarre contradiction to his partner, for the trembling that divulged terror in his heart was equally present.

“It’s amazing.”

Eoin snorted, still feeling the citrus-like aftertaste of a heal seed reverberate through mouth.

“Speak for yourself Chimera. I read about these craft for a short while, there aren’t many ways a catastrophic failure could occur, but I know them.”

“Are you afraid of heights?” Argon asked. “I-I’m sorry we didn’t ask sooner, it’s just that, well...when you reverted after we took off, I guess the thought didn’t cross our minds.”

The Charmander made his best attempt at a reassuring smile, before his eyes closed and he buried his head toward the floor,

“Only a little. The more I read about it, the more illogical it seemed; trusting your life to an amalgamation of plywood and cloth. The mission comes first, however, and I suppose this is better than climbing Mount Shayne from the bottom.”

The Pallid had removed his goggles, and Argon spotted a slight taper of his pupils. While not nearly as prevalent as when she watched Eoin jam a stun seed into his mouth at the start of their journey, the effect was noticeable. What truly surprised her, however, was that a grin on Eoin’s face had replaced the usual cringe of pain.

“Luckily I have not had to bear the brunt of it today. The Beast seems to be far more ignorant of the dangers than myself, and the more I succumbed to its control...the more I felt my fear drifting away. It is a bizarre advantage, and to have two recursions in the past day, with any luck my instinct will be more kind for the road ahead.”

“Hey, if I wasn’t here, you might not of even needed the stun seed,” Chimera replied, previous excitement interrupted by deep breaths and a nervous look toward his partner, “and speaking of which, what even is this mission you keep talking about? I know my stake in this, but now that you’re back, I’d be nice to know why you even agreed to come with us on this expedition.”

Eoin’s eyes shut after the remark, and he continued fidgeting with his hands, clutching a stun seed as if afraid to let go. Whether from recurring memories, or simply to avoid looking out of the windows, both pokemon would never know.

“When I went exploring into the forest, and came across the sight that lead to my mission, I was just as mentally unprepared as you two are now. Just know the...shock, the helplessness I felt, and the knowledge of its repercussions lead me to organize a movement, of which I am the leader. I apologize for my obscurity, but there are times when words can only do so much justice. I only ask for your belief that what I say is genuine.”

The beginnings of a smile attempted to make their way to the Pallid’s face, subsiding to the middle point between neutrality and frown,

“As for this specific expedition, I follow you both in the hopes that after this is finished, you will allow me to show you what I speak of in person. Besides, if Uxie chose to remain at its post guarding the time gear, I would be months behind my current intelligence. Having Azelf abandon its fool’s bargain, that is a cause I can follow.”

“So...you’re doing this to get us to join the group that you’ve created,” Argon commented.

Eoin nodded. His head shifted to the crates of supplies, grey ember escaping his tongue as it settled on the stack of rations packed for their trip.

“You know,” Chimera said, eyes likewise closed in recollection, “you gotta wonder why they even guard those things. When Uxie teleported us out of the dungeon with that gear, I thought for sure that time in the area would stop, or...something. But no, unless you count nearly drowning as irregular, nothing happened.”

Argon turned to her partner, faded paperback cover of a childhood story fresh in her mind,

“Y-Yeah, so did I. If the legends are true, and they really are in place to keep the flow of time in order, then it should have happened. My best guess is that there’s someone or something keeping time in place after they’re removed, or there’s some other effect that we haven’t seen yet.”

“And with no Temporal Tower…” Chimera muttered under his breath as he turned to the Pallid, “Eoin, you were there after me and Argon left, did you see anything that might have been caused by the time gear being removed?”

It took a couple seconds before Eoin could raise his voice. The metal cover religiously attached over the Charmander’s flame had been torn off, revealing a grey cinder that divulged how ill-suited its host was to their high altitudes. Despite this, no notion of complaint had been raised throughout the flight, and after preparatory hyperventilations Eoin seemed satisfied that he had an answer.

“I do, in fact. Most of the memories before my awakening are little more than hazy emotions and feelings, but just before I was able to teleport myself out of the dungeon, I remember this sensation of...pain, followed by a period of nothingness, then a quiet euphoria. Any movement I tried became heavier, as if with every second my very being was continuously sucked out and put to some higher purpose. For what reason I cannot imagine, but the instant Uxie made contact with me and dove into my mind, it ended, and I felt whatever I had lost being returned.”

Bagon and Raichu shared a glance, each confirming that they were equally surprised by the story.

“T-That doesn’t sound pleasant,” Argon said, “are you sure you’re alright with coming with us on this mission? I wouldn’t want the same thing to happen to you.”

“Of course,” Eoin replied, “my purpose is bigger than myself, and I am hopeful whatever powers Uxie used have given me an immunity to any future dangers. Forgive me, it gets a little choppier from here, but the look on its face after the experience was akin to...guilt, a sense of culpability that pervaded all of our future interactions. I occasionally asked the lake guardian about the sensation, to no avail. Only just before we parted ways did I question why it was me specifically who was saved from the dungeon’s effects. Uxie’s answer was the last word we exchanged: ‘Redemption’.

A call through the speaking tube jolted the trio to attention, bated breaths present in all three exacerbated through the Fearow’s voice,

“We’re...just about to drop you ‘mons off, hold onto your tails! We’ll be back here in a day or so. Air ‘till this point gets too thin to fly, you’ll have to hike the rest if you want to get to the mystery dungeon at the top. Articuno knows why you’d even bother, but may fortune favor the bold.”

A sharp snap of tow lines detaching pierced through rattling support frames and buckling fabric. All three pokemon sat down and scrambled for something to hang on to, being jolted from their seats with a roaring thud accompanied by skiis skidding against frozen lake water. Every second of deceleration brought fears of a tree shattering through their fragile craft like claws through caterpie, ending only in the brief second where momentum brought the fuselage backward. Thankful breaths, most noticeable from the Charmander, echoed through the narrow confines.

They unpacked and equipped clothing supplied for the journey: a blend of mareep cloth sewn into thick blankets and coats. Chimera opened the exit. Chilling air and snow rushed through immediately. Partly concealing by such was view of their means of locomotion, visibly exhausted flying back the way they had come. The Bagon turned, grin forming on his face with sight of the gray and white mountain face in the distance no doubt concealing their goal,

“Well,” Chimera said, snow condensing on his forehead doing little to cull enthusiasm, “shall we?”

---
​
Author's Notes: I can't thank Namohysip enough for his reviews of my story. I've been responding to him privately about his feedback, and I want to assure anyone who takes the time to look over my story that I will do my best to reply to feedback, either publicly or through private messages.
 
Chapter 18: Crimson Snow
“Y-You know...I haven’t seen a flake of snow in four years. It’s a nice change of pace being here, but...I’m starting to see why I left.”

Frigid wind flooding into the Raichu’s jaw cut off any further conversation. It was an uphill battle navigating through the twists and turns of Mount Shayne, one that saw Argon periodically checking the mark on their wonder-map, as if analyzing to see if the presider of the WFG hadn’t accidentally marked their location in place of a tropical resort. Hours of travel through a blizzard revealed that their Fearow navigator’s message had been more of a presage than anything. Omnipresent snow took its place upon all three, sticking to legs and tails to create a numbness somewhere between tranquility and agony.

“You’re not missing much,” Chimera replied, a tiny part of the former-human wishing that whatever force had turned him into a pokemon could have picked something similar to the strange, cloud-like vulpix roaming near their landing site, “where I was from, fresh snow was absolutely peachy keen for exactly one day, until it dried up and and all you had left was a minus twenty windchill and the pleasure of walking like you’re trudging through molasses. At least here we get all three qualities.”

“Still, there is a unique sense of beauty underneath the toil,” Eoin commented, “my lifespan likely has been less than a hundredth of yours, and I can say without hesitation that the pictures do not do them justice.”

An unspoken sense of agreement filled the group. Even without looking up, Argon could see the teal tint of luminous aurora reflected in the Pallid’s metallic contraption. The Raichu would be the first to admit to the temptation of a warm bed and actually being able to feel any sensation in her feet and hands. However, as she walked, exchanging smiles between the pokemon on either side of the vast distances they had left behind, there was nowhere else Argon would rather be. If the Pichu yawning in her bed to “Heroes of Time” could see her now, Argon was unsure whether her former self would scoff or quiver. Regardless, she was here now, and the ticking hands of fate powered by the gears they sought had seemed less malicious than her fears proclaimed.

The familiar tingling sensation of entering a mystery dungeon substituted for any shivering in their necks. Eoin took the lead, wary eyes scanning for sources of danger as they approached a shallower section leading up to the mountain face. Knee high snow made determining what surface they were marching on difficult, but Argon was the first to catch the sudden loss of traction.

“Watch your step. We might be on a small lake, wouldn’t want to slip, or worse...”

“Yeah Eoin,” Chimera said, cracking a smile through gusts of icy powder, “adventuring always has that risk, wouldn’t want you to be put on thin ice.”

A painful groan escaped the gloomy Charmander, though not completely in response to the attempt at humor. Sharp pain echoing through his conscious forced him to his knees. In spite of Eoin’s recognizance of the migraine, it was less severe than that experienced when he attempted to delay a reversion. Argon and Chimera stopped behind the Pallid, simultaneously gasping when a crack followed be several crinkles sounded from under his feet. A single thought beamed into Eoin’s mind, mimicking a form of communication he had grown well accustomed to.

So, you’re the pallid my sibling spoke so highly of, interesting...

The ice below Eoin gave way. Chimera was the closest, and dove as far as his feet could in an attempt to grab the Charmander’s tail, missing by mere inches. Argon lifted a hand to her temple and attempted to telekinetically hold the Pallid, but was cut off by an invisible force that pushed him from her grasp. Contrary to their initial belief, the lake did not give way to water underneath the top layer of ice, but formed an icy tunnel angled downward and toward the cliff face. Both reached instinctively for their exploration bags, hearing the Charmander’s screams grow quieter as he slid down.

“Eoin!” Argon shouted. “Sit tight, we’re gonna get you out of there.”

Chimera approached the entrance to the unnatural slide with rope in hand. Seconds passed like hours as both pokemon waited for a response. Eventually, Eoin’s voice sounded through the tunnel, carrying a tone more attuned to bewilderment than concern.

“That-uh...that will not be necessary, I do not believe I am in any danger. Continue navigating up the mountain and through the mystery dungeon, I will meet you two there.”

Chimera and Argon froze, shared glance between the two attempting to convey what words couldn’t. Again, they heard crackling from the tunnel, punctuated by a loud crash as psychic orbs sent its icy walls collapsing into an impassable jumble.

“Well…” Chimera deadpanned, ”guess we don’t have much of a choice now. If what I think is happening is happening, we’ll get our meeting with another third of the lake trio, one way or another.”

Argon was silent staring between her partner and the now inaccessible tunnel, eventually settling on a deep sigh to accept the situation’s sudden deterioration. Clearing the debris would take hours, hours they didn’t have in their wintry surroundings. Eoin had proven himself trustworthy enough, and with any luck would be able to handle whatever was thrown his way. She gave a slight nod to Chimera, shouting what assurances she could through the tunnel before turning to continue up the mountain face.

They pressed on, footsteps light and tentative in the process. Chilling wind swished against fur and scales. Gusts of white powder blew, concealing movement of any pallid blurs in the distance as well as it did their own. In spite of the mystery dungeon’s peril, a nervous glance from Argon toward the flat lake they had started from forced her paw away from her guild badge. Even without words, they could both admit that whatever dark magic Articuno used had forced the narrow pathways of their surroundings into the safest place to be. A thermos of tapu cocoa levitated out of Argon’s bag as they trudged through the snow, pouring a cup for Chimera and herself. Such a drink would have alleviated the chill running down their spines, if not for a series of dull thuds that sounded in the distance. They looked down, finding faint ripples in the liquid in tandem with the noise.

“I don’t like this,” said Argon, “t-there’s something out there, and I’d rather we not find out what.”

“We can’t stop now,” replied Chimera, altering his pace so that he was leading the way, “there’s no shelter where we came from, and we’ll be dead in minutes if we try teleporting before those birds get back. Besides, whatever is out there, we’ll be ready. It hasn’t stopped us before.”

The thudding became louder, now more akin to a loud crack, followed by periodic shattering. Argon kept pace behind her partner, eyes scanning anxiously through the three feet of distance they could see. He turned back as he walked, brandishing his weapon.

“Between this thing and your electricity, I doubt there’s anything that could withstand us working together.”

The Bagon raised a cup to his forehead, tapping against the rocky surface with a satisfying clink.

“You’d be pressed to find any pokemon more hardheaded than yours truly. It shouldn’t be too hard overcoming any ‘mons we have to butt heads with.”

For the second time, silence followed. Chimera’s expression pleaded with Argon to at least humor him, but the Raichu seemed frozen, looking past Chimera in a thousand yard stare.

“C-Come on? It wasn’t that bad, was it—”

Nothing was said. She pointed past the Bagon, sparks emanating out of her cheeks as resolution overcame apprehension. Slowly, Chimera’s head turned, eyes matching his partner’s initial frozen state. Looming over Chimera not even three feet away was a Rampardos. Splinters of mountain-face rock jutted out of its grey forehead, matching the thick scales and spikes that covered the rest of its body. It looked at the two, a half second passing were pallid pupils looked forward in single-minded rage. An ear-splitting roar echoed through the mountain, forming a battlecry against heavy snow and stone cliffs before it lowered its body to charge.

“Well...shit.”

---​

The two pokemon locked below the frozen lake stood still, staring each other in the eyes analysing the unique specimen before them. Flakes of snow had condensed on the Pallid’s body from the tumultuous slide down, and he took the brief silence to dust them off, concealed eyes analysing their surroundings. Above was the thin sheet of ice his companions had traveled over, snow still visible through the transparent layer. Beams of green light reflected against the cave’s reflective walls, aurora shining downward through the gaps in the snowdrift. This was not the only source, however, for locked underneath the glass-like surface beneath their feet was another beacon. Its aquamarine sheen jutted off in six directions, accompanied by pentagonal radiance as orderly as time itself.

“Azelf, I presume?” Eoin asked to the three-gemmed pokemon. “Why did you bring me here? I only come to relieve you of the burden that Uxie undertook.”

It’s not a burden, Eoin, replied the lake guardian, it’s a responsibility, one that my siblings have abandoned in their hubris, in no small part due to the actions of your friends. As for why I brought you here, I suppose my reasoning is one of curiosity. Uxie was always the knowledge seeker, but I cannot deny I was intrigued when he informed me during our arguments of what he had gifted you, and the...condition that resulted from it.

“It was incredibly generous, but nonetheless I am nothing special. I have learned that every one of the percentage of my kind who are awakened can rise above their ignorance and brutality. Uxie’s gift simply hastened the process, in spite of any unintended consequences.”

The lake guardian frowned. It was an expression Eoin knew well, one he put on to feign ignorance when forced to conceal dark secrets. The three gems on Azelf’s tail and forehead began to glow, and it slowly levitated toward the Pallid, reaching out with a hand.

If you really believe that, then would you consent to a little subconscious test? You wouldn’t have come here if you weren’t curious of why I guard this artifact, and I am willing to provide you with answers so long as you’ll do the same.

Azelf stopped before the Charmander, hand just in front of his forehead waiting for approval. It was true that the knowledge pokemon had shown an unbecoming amount of vagueness in regards to the time gear’s purpose, and standing before him was a legendary with enough connections to lift the fog that had clouded the issue. Besides, if the lake guardians all had similar abilities, he would be dead long before he could put up a fight. With one hand grasped around the warmth of his tail cover, and the other raised to readjust his goggles, Eoin nodded.

“What do you have in mind?”

Somewhat of a test, somewhat of a demonstration. Mespirit was particularly adamant that I do this, said that she wanted me to test out a little theory we’ve formed of Uxie’s effect on your subconscious. Fate will decide if you have the willpower to see it through, and if you’ll be the same Eoin in front of me after this is finished.

A bright red aura emanated from the three gems as Eoin felt Azelf’s hand press into his mind. What fleeting memories the Charmander had flashed before his eyes, ending as his energy dimmed and he collapsed to the floor, whole vision being enveloped in darkness.

It faded as soon as it appeared, letting Eoin clear the fog out of his head and take note of his strange new surroundings. The icy walls were gone, as was any semblance of cold and the chilling sensation nipping at his fire. He was sitting on a thin blanket of snow, back resting against a dead tree jutting from the lower sections of the mountain. Dense clouds of mist surrounded him, adding to the gloomy atmosphere limiting his vision to the sole other pokemon in the bizarre sequence, one that made his heart jump and the ember on his tail flicker.

It was Argon, continence as peaceful as the sleeping breaths filling their ill-defined surroundings. Her eyes were closed, tucked into the Charmander as closely as he had been just a day ago. It wasn’t real, of course, days spent under the illusionary power of Uxie had proven to Eoin that a situation like this was too good to be true, and too easy for a pokemon with the powers of the mind to fabricate. Still, if this was all that Azelf had in mind for its supposed test, the Pallid figured that no harm would come in enjoying it while it lasted. His arm wavered just as hers had when reaching a claw to the back of her neck, but assurances that the situation wasn’t real made the gesture come slightly easier. A thick liquid seemed to have condensed around both of his claws, but he quickly pushed the thought away. She pulled in closer, side of her head resting just next to his own maw. They sat still in a minute of quiet contemplation, ending only when the Pallid whispered into the chimeric Raichu’s yellow ear.

“Thank you, for everything.”

Lengthy coughs and groans sounded from the other end of the tree, ending their repose. It was difficult for Eoin tell, but there was a sense of familiarity in the cries. It was a jumble of noise, likened to another being’s and his own cries for mercy beneath the cave owned by an old friend. The Pallid’s grey fire blared, seemingly of its own fruition, illuminating the room in contrast to previous experience. Eoin could only watch as Argon’s eyes drifted open, being shocked to alertness looking past him with absolute horror.

“You...you monster.”

The look spread to Eoin as his own light let him look over the Raichu. The fur around her neck was not its usual orange color, having been diluted with a dark shade of red. He looked down as she scrambled out of his hold, trembling with recognizance of its source.

His own claws.

“No, I...I...it cannot be—”

He traced her vision, looking to the far side of the tree as another gasp escaped his mouth. A thin line of red trailed off from his own claws through the snow, ending to reveal the source of the moaning: a draconic pokemon he had grown well acquainted with.

“Y-You killed him Eoin, you killed Chimera.”

His eyes shut, grotesque imagery piercing through despite his best efforts. Blood covered the Bagon’s body, seeping from puncture marks verbatim to his own claws into bits of charred flesh were his scales had been burnt off. He let out a gurgled cough, covering the snow where it landed in a crimson shade.

“No...this cannot be real, it is an illusion. It has to be!”

Argon’s voice answered the plea, piercing into his conscious accompanied by that of the guardians he had come to know.

It could be, though it may end up being more real than you could ever imagine. Does it really matter?

The fog dimmed, giving way to another figure buried in the Charmander’s conscious. Standing next to Chimera was a Charmander, exactly matching Eoin’s body structure and height. The only difference of the doppelganger, was that the goggles and tail cover were gone, matching grey scales that showed the Pallid’s true form. It looked toward Eoin with a quizzical chirp, staying in place with a mask of complete innocence.

Blue, brown, and gray pupils stared into Eoin’s soul. Embers seeped through their cover. His breaths grew in ferocity, and he pointed a claw toward the grey Charmander, vile in his eyes barely concealed underneath their veil.

“If it is true, than it was the Beast that did the deed, not I. Short as it may be, I have spent my entire life attempting to spread the gift of knowledge to the rest of my kind, but you have not changed, no matter if we wear the same face. You venerate savagery, and should it come to it, that Bagon’s blood will be on your hands, not mine!”

“That’s not true,” Chimera sputtered out, crimson-soaked hand raising to Eoin before it collapsed to the floor, “this blood is civil.”

Again, the fog parted. Lying next to Chimera was another corpse, one that drew a malicious glare from Eoin even in its extinguished state. Sprawled decrepit in the snow was a Girafarig. Its predominant head was severed clean off. Its eyes were closed in quiet recollection, conveying a sense of tranquility that made him sick to his stomach. Chimera’s voice snapped Eoin out of his trance, attempt to stand interrupted as the Bagon keeled over, speaking one last time before his final breath.

“I only wanted to—arghh...I only wanted to protect him! But they were too bitter, too tired of their abusement and destitution, and they demanded blood. You let them. You let everything burn.”

“You...you do not understand!” Eoin sputtered toward the eyes, living or not, that glared toward him. “The progression my kind deserves is being denied by those that seek to control and oppress. There must be change. Liberty, impartiality, an opportunity for something better, for our ideals to triumph, we cannot hold back on our chance.”

“So that’s why you’ll let him die?” Argon asked, betrayal evident in her eyes. “Ideals? Because circumstance pushed him to a side that you disagreed with, when were you going to tell me?”

“I...I should have told you sooner— I should have trusted that you could understand the terror that filled my heart. ”

Eoin collapsed to the floor. Sweat dripped down his scales as he buried his head to the snow, hands over ears unable to stem Chimera’s groans from mixing with the flickering embers in his conscious. Accusations tumbled to and fro, snapping what was left of his train of thought apart with something far more excruciating and foreign to his new conscious than chilling water could ever be:

Guilt.

“Gods...make it stop. Azelf, you have made your point. I beg you, please end this nightmare!”

Footsteps pattered against crunching snow, barely audible as Eoin curled himself into a ball and began to sob. He gasped as the sound stopped, and he opened his eyes to view the pokemon before him.

It was himself, holding out a grey-scaled hand with narrowed pupils, seemingly in a gesture of offering. The Beast could not speak the way he could, and yet its eyes said everything.

“You look so tired. Don’t you want to rest?”

Without a second thought, Eoin took hold of the Pallid, letting the blood on his own claws spread to it as his vision turned to black, and the Beast took hold.

---​

The Rampardos charged. What awe and terror crept up Chimera’s scales ended in an instant as he felt his partner tackle him to the side. Aurora reflected off of the pointed, grey forehead soaring past them by mere inches.

The Rampardos turned back. A sense of confusion seemed to have taken over the creature, letting out a short grunt at the sight of the two pokemon before him still standing. Sparks emanated from Argon’s tail. Chimera’s stubby hands fumbled for his weapon. The two shared a nod, judging that they had their foe targeted.

Snow shrugged off the crossbow string as it released in tandem with a bolt of electricity soaring toward the Rampardos. A half second of hope passed between the two and their dim-witted target. Perhaps the creature’s size and stature only concealed its own weakness? Perhaps the frigid air had made its armored scales brittle, and it would simply be another of the easily-vanquished foes encountered through their journey?

The bolt tinked off, falling into the snow without even a sound. Argon’s thunderbolt met a similar fate. Electrons diffused easily through its stony scales and into the ground. A glance at Argon found her fur on end, looking toward a pokemon that was more powerful than anything they had faced prior.

“Well,” Chimera said, gaze switching between his weapon and its target, “I appreciate that we’ve found a foe that forces your level of usefulness down to mine, Argon. Makes me feel less embarrassed.”

They could only sigh as the Rampardos cocked its head, not a scratch being left on it when it resumed its battle cry. It opened its jaw, revealing bits of snow that condensed into an ice-blue light between its throat. A beam of frost discharged. The ray grew faster than Argon anticipated possible from most rock types, causing her attempt to dive out of the way to be cut short as the cone shot against her feet.

She moaned. The attack drew a nervous look from her partner as breaths reduced to chittering. Ice crystalized around her feet.

“Are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah, I...I’m fine.”

Numbness growing by the second forced her head to the floor, before abruptly grinding to a halt. A loud crack again cut through the wind, despite being more subdued than the ones foretelling the Rampardos’s presence. She looked up, a shot of adrenaline running up her spine.

Chimera had charged. His rocky forehead dug into their foe, causing a brief stagger before the pokemon regained its balance. Its eyes fumed, both looking with newfound vigor in their hearts for what she could only assume was a personal challenge.

“Is that it? Do you want to go, pea-brain? Then let's go! I’ll die before you get to her.”

“Chimera, this might not be a fight we can win! You just have to keep it distracted, we should run while we have the chance!”

Her words fell on deaf ears. Argon hacked away at the ice pinning her to the floor as Chimera rushed to put distance between himself and their foe, back toward jagged rocks that jutted out of the mountain face. Only brief outlines through blizzard snow revealed the Rampardos and Bagon’s outline, but that was enough for both to charge, speed only inhibited by knee-high snow.

They crashed. Argon could feel the vibration through her feet, and could see her partner be launched through the powder.

“Don’t—arghh...don’t worry. We have to push on, and I can take whatever this blockhead can dish out.”

The fact that the Rampardos hadn’t moved an inch after their collision proved this was false, but Argon could sense the anger in Chimera’s eyes. He was looking at an obstacle, and the Bagon had proven well enough the only path he knew was straight ahead.

They reset and charged. Bits of snow fell from their mountain overhang. Again, Chimera was hurled through the floor and into the snow, momentum stopping inches before the jagged rocks at his rear.

“We can lose it in the snowstorm!” Argon shouted. “It’s not going to let up, we have to leave.”

It was difficult to tell, but there seemed to be a hint of a smile after every collision, one that accompanied the fire in the Bagon’s eyes. It only lasted a second, before he would force them shut, as if attempting to stem some instinctual, disapproving migraine.

For the last time, they took their positions, intent on finishing whatever ritual they had started. Argon chipped away at the last bit of ice locking down her feet. She could only watch and shout as time slowed and rocky foreheads met each other.

“No, wait—”

The two pokemon had equal speed, but the Rampardos had the advantage in mass. Chimera shot backwards through the air. A painful cry escaped his jaw as the sharp rocks of the mountain face pierced through his arm and leg. The Bagon was a broken mess. He collapsed to the floor, vision being enveloped in blackness.

“Arghh...please no, not like this...”

Argon shot to her feat, unable to control her own breaths. Fueled by adrenaline and muscle memory, she untied the various straps keeping her tail in place and zoomed past the Rampardos. It let out a booming roar. In one swift motion, she placed her tail under the Bagon and closed her eyes, surrounding it in pink light to function as a makeshift stretcher.

“H-Hand on. We need to find some shelter. I’ll get you out of here, I promise you that.”

The only response was an unintelligible babble. Argon looked to the Rampardos, setting her gaze on the abyss of powdery wind concealing her every surrounding.

She ran. It followed. Being on all fours forced any semblance of feeling away from all her limbs, but it did little to deter. The snow carried up to her chest, making steps cumbersome and slow. Thuds increased in ferocity, every glance behind her confirming that the Rampardos was getting closer by the second. It opened its jaw, letting out the telltale whir of elemental energy condensing in its jaw. Her fur stood up on end, preparing for bone-chilling crystals to pierce through them when it stopped, interrupted by another noise trudging through mystery dungeons with her partner had made familiar.

Chimera’s off-hand arm wavered holding the crossbow out. The Rampardos roared in pain, stopping to hold its hands over the bolt sticking out of its right eye. Her partner let out one last chuckle as his muscles gave way and he collapsed.

They were safe, at least for the moment. No longer being chased let Argon focus on the task at hand, finally able to decipher a sentence from her partner than was more than a gurgle.

“I brought that on myself. I...I’m sorry for being so stupid. I broke my rule, and now we’re both paying the price for it.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Argon replied, “great shot, but we’re not out of the woods yet. Gods...I wanted to avoid all of this. Y-You’re going to be alright, don’t worry.”

The minutes passed. She wandered on. The thin air grew ever more difficult to breathe, and the stress of keeping the Bagon supported through telekinetic powers grew by the second, but fortune smiled upon the Raichu. Her head nearly glazed over the faint outline of a tunnel unnaturally formed in the mountain slope. For one of the brief periods of their treacherous expedition, Argon smiled. She looked back to Chimera, finding his head aimed toward the green and blue sky.

Immediately, the harsh weather seemed to alleviate as Argon stepped inside of the cave. She set Chimera down. It didn’t take a genius to see the extent of his injuries. His right arm and left leg were bent in ways she didn’t even know were possible. His breaths were sporadic, his blue scales were pale and devoid of blood. She raised a paw to his hand, gasping at the long gaps in the Bagon’s heartbeat.

Shock.

Argon froze, staring into the abyss with the knowledge that If Chimera didn’t get treatment soon, her partner was likely going to die. She took in three deep breaths, then turned back to the situation at hand.

“O-Ok, I got this...please let me have this.

She took out several blue berries from her pack, grinding them into a thick paste and slathering it onto bandages. They stopped the bleeding well enough, but that was the least of her problems. Chimera’s heartbeat was sporadic, and there wasn’t a single qualified healer that could administer the proper treatment. There was only her, her and the electrons that sparked from the Raichu’s own two paws.

So it comes to this…please, Arceus, let me remember how many volts it is…

Too few and the effect would be useless, too many and she’d do more harm than good. Seconds passed of contemplation. The thin air didn’t help any of Argon’s attempts to control her breathing, but knowing that every passing second only increased the chance that her partner would be sent back to wherever humans thought of as the afterlife forced her paws to his chest. Her cheeks sparked, as did her tail as she delivered the first shock.

“Come on…”

His chest jolted up, but little else.

The second shock.

“Please, let this work.”

Still, no effect.

“Work, dammit!”

She sighed, nearly lowering her head before she let out one last shock, recoiling as the Bagon’s chest again jolted up. Instantly, her paw lowered his hands, moments passing like hours as she determined what fate awaited the former-human.

Silence...then one heartbeat, then another, and another still. Argon cackled madly to herself, only witnesses being the ice and rock of the cave as her partner’s heartbeat returned to a steady tempo.

“I-I...I thought I lost you.”

She drew him in close, watching as the Bagon’s eyes opened to return her smile.

“Thank you,” he said, forming a toothy grin half layered with his own blood, “my sincerest condolences, now you gotta keep putting up with me.”

They laughed. The moment didn’t last long, however, before booming thuds sent shivers up their spine. It was Chimera’s turn for his eyes to reveal what words couldn’t, drawing Argon’s gaze to the cave entrance.

Standing there, fuming breaths obscuring the crimson scar over its right eye, was the Rampardos. It lowered its head, kicking its feet into the snow to charge.

“Damn…” Argon said, turning back to Chimera with a frown more out of exhaustion than anything, “I guess this is it, either it will kill us, or the cold outside will. I’m...glad we got to know each other. I’d honestly probably be alive if we didn’t team up, but I’m not sure It would be a life worth living.”

Not a second passed before the Rampardos launched itself toward the two. They both closed their eyes, relieving what memories that had gotten them to this point until oblivion would show its face.

They would have to wait. The Pallid’s footsteps stopped abruptly, fuming being cut off seemingly mid-breath. A moment passed until their eyes tentatively glimpsed toward their would-be-killer, letting out gasps equal part astonishment and bewilderment.

The Pallid was motionless in front of them, having been unnaturally interrupted mid-charge, frozen in time.

---​

Author’s Note: My sincerest gratitude to Namohysip, author of Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Hands of Creation (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12658897/1/Pokemon-Mystery-Dungeon-Hands-of-Creation). He’s been an amazing help reviewing, betaing, and providing interesting ideas for my story. I’m in the process of reading his story, and I’d definitely recommend checking it out.
 
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Chapter 19: Bitter Recollections
Author's Note: After one month, it's finally done. A complete rewrite of the prologue through chapter four. If you're already reading my story, you don't need to go back to continue understanding it. However, I believe its made the beginning something I can actually be proud of.

---​

Eoin was surprised to find himself standing. He looked around, new surroundings having lost their usual dark tint. A claw raised to his face as the fog around his vision cleared revealed why.

Oh...you’re back, I questioned how long it would take before we could continue our little discussion.

The goggles and cover that masked his appearance sat before him. The Pallid scrambled to the icy floor to redon his veil, gasping with recognizance that the grey scales reflected through the ground were in fact his.

Your other persona was just as concerned with its appearance as you are. Fortunate for the circumstances, all things considered. Especially since you are among your kind.

“What do you mean I am—”

Feral growls and snarls cut through Eoin’s ideation. The realization suddenly dawned on the Charmander of his peril. The flat layer of ice impersonating a lake was gone, replaced by an upward cone of rock doubtlessly forming the top of the mountain. Green light cut through gaps in the rock, bouncing off the surrounding icy patches to illuminate the multitude of pallid, grey pokemon on all sides. For a brief second, Eoin’s fire blared and he jumped back, before it settled to a dull flicker.

The Pallids paid him no mind. Their vision was instead focused on the lake guardian before them, holding a blue gear in its hand that appeared to be the source of their enamoration.

“W-Why are they not attacking? They are a ceaseless aggression to any other pokemon, what makes me different?”

You should already know that. On the matter of specifics, the reason is that you can’t...see like they do, at least not currently.”

Azelf floated toward the Pallid, gems glowing a red radiance. Again, the lake guardian placed its hand before Eoin’s face, waiting for approval.

Perhaps another demonstration will shed some light on the matter? I can’t revert your mind, but I can simulate the effect to the best of my ability.

“Will this be any less traumatic than your last demonstration?” Eoin replied, snort synonymous by a shiver running down his spine.

The Pallid shirked back as soon as the words left his mouth. He shielded his eyes, in a redundant action that drew a quizzical stare from Azelf. The lake guardian couldn’t tell, but the beginnings of moisture had condensed underneath Eoin’s goggles. He started lifted his grey-scaled hand up as if to wipe, before setting it back to his side.

“I-I apologize. Blunt as it may have been, your little experiment...it helped. You have seen my memories, and I now know what I must do if I am to navigate this perilous game.”

That wasn’t entirely the purpose, but we’ll get to that soon enough.

Eoin nodded, letting Azelf’s hand press into his consciousness. A second passed before his eyes opened, and the full effect took hold. He didn’t pass out, instead finding that flowing across his own hands and body was a vibrant, blue energy. It emanated all across him, sporting a shining radiance that pointed to only one source of his studies.

“Aura?”

Correct. The essence of what makes every pokemon what they are, condensed into an easily viewable format for your own convenience. Do you have a prefered color?

It wasn’t just him. An even brighter and stronger shade of blue ran across the lake guardian pressing against his forehead. The strongest source, however, was close at hand in the form of the blue gear grasped in Azelf’s other arm. It was nearly blinding, luminosity filling the inside of Mount Shayne’s peek as quickly as it was lost, pulsating with a rapid vigor. Unlike Azelf, the light did not seem self sufficient. Beams sprawled out of the gear in all directions, holding flickers of aura in near constant motion from their source to the artifact. The motion was condensed, its battery-like efficiency giving recognizance to the source of the time gear’s power:

The Pallids.

The pokemon that matched Eoin’s own grey color sat with complacency. Blue radiance that stemmed from every beam began with each creature, all donned with an aura significantly dimmer than the mountain’s two sentient occupants. He gasped, finding that a single trail from the artifact also connected to himself.

“W-Why?”

A gear is simply a tool, Azelf replied blankly, it cannot function without having energy to transfer, and the task of keeping time in order is not one without requirements. Dialga was also not a particularly trusting god, and decided that he had to rely on more than himself to avoid the potential for catastrophe. Enter time gears, and the creatures that fuel and protect them.

Eoin didn’t say a word. His aura shined as bright as ever, and yet with every second, that which stemmed from the himself and the pallids surrounding him dimmed a nearly imperceivable level. He walked up to a polar Sandshrew, looking into the eyes of a feral creature with his best attempt at empathy.

“Is it...painful?”

No, the process is so gradual that most do not even realize it is occurring. An incredible amount of aura is required to power the time gears. Fortunately for Dialga, he had friends in high places, friends that could break the natural laws that govern our universe. In exception to myself, the bodies of all the pokemon here will be reborn once the mystery dungeon resets. Their soul will persist, but with more aura to grease the metaphorical gears of time.

He shivered. Just as Azelf said, Eoin couldn’t feel the draining effect that the beam of aura illustrated. And yet, he couldn’t deny a newfound sense of emptiness in that knowledge. He didn’t dare continue looking. Blue radiance drifted away as he scrambled out of the lake guardian’s grasp, but nothing could stem the placebo from invading his subconscious.

“D-Does the same hold true for me? I...I must leave if that is true.”

Oh, it’s not that bad, Azelf replied with a chuckle, looking back to Eoin as he bolted for the room’s exit, you could chop off your own leg inside of a mystery dungeon and have it back after the reset. Your gift would be gone, but...still. It won’t be a problem anyways if we can get you out of the mystery dungeon before that happens. Like I said, you have given me and my siblings some answers, I directed your other persona here so I could return the favor. Should you have any questions, I will answer them as best I can.

Eoin made it about halfway to the artificially constructed, icy stairs leading down the mountain when he stopped. Bright sunlight beaming down revealed that it would be many hours before the mystery dungeon’s daily reset, and it would be a shame to give way to cowardice when answers were so close. The risk remained, the risk of losing whatever friends and sentience he had left and becoming as trapped as the creatures around him, but fortune favors the bold. He turned back, eyes switching between Azelf and the unnaturally colored scales that separated his kind from the rest, words not being needed to convey the obvious question.

Your hue? Might as well get straight through the softballs. At least in a metaphorical sense, even gods are not one to make their work a white donphan. When you gotta make a self-sustaining way of creating new bodies daily for a hundred thousand or so creatures that will never even get a chance to eat, keeping track of what their scales looks like kind of goes out the window. The purpose of pallids didn’t need distinguishable color nor sapience. It helped even, providing a clear distinction between them and the civilized. It is much easier protecting an artifact by creating a charmander instinctually driven to protect than one that might desire something else.

“So, when I was below Uxie’s Cave, that is why I...”

Eoin looked downward, briefly taking off his veil to look at his own reflection. The icy floor was murkier than below the lake, and he could have sworn that the Charmander mimicking the way he held his hand out held grey pupils thinner than his own. It returned his smile nonetheless, before Eoin eyes shut in recollection of waking up in Argon’s paws. Panicked as he may have been, the Beast seemed to have made a conscientious decision not to attack. Staring at Azelf, finally aware of what the pallid’s true nature was, perhaps his doppelganger’s aggression wasn’t as ceaseless as he once thought? Along with these thoughts came memory of another instance where a Charmander showed leniency, despite having every reason not to.

“I did not have my gift then. I was as feral as before I met Uxie, but I still walked away, I still was drawn to the Bagon’s badge. Why? If my purpose was to protect the time gear at all costs, why did I not fulfill it?”

For the first time since their meeting, Azelf didn’t have an immediate answer. Even from looking at the lake guardian, Eoin could tell that he had spent as much time pondering the question. He floated upward, tone more tentative than assured.

Pokemon are...fast learners, despite their sense of complacency. My best theory is that being reborn again and again with the same soul has some effect on your mind no matter how feral it is. Arceus knows it wasn’t what the gods wanted, but give a pallid enough time, and it’ll start to show more than simple aggression. Some, like you, simply learnt at a faster rate than most of your kind.

“So that is what I am, an anomaly?”

To my knowledge, yes. Though, judging from your memories, I am willing to bet your priorities lie more in what has become of those anomalies, and what they will become, rather than how they came to be.

Eoin couldn’t help but nod. He looked around the crowd of pallids, unable to judge how many few of the hundred or so dispersed throughout the room had the potential to experience the joys and suffering that civilized life offered. More questions fell from the tip of his tongue, but only one did more than dissipate into grey embers.

“This is a little superfluous, but if I was truly trapped in an endless cycle of rebirth just as most of my kind are, then...how old am I?”

A slight chuckle from the lake guardian cut through the resulting silence. It echoed through the chamber, dissipating as quickly as it arrived.

Well, I guess that depends on you base your age off of your soul or your body? If it’s the latter, a little over a month. The former...lets just say you’ll need a pretty big ember to account for the years between now and the dawn of time.

The Pallid was lost for words. The passive glances from the pokemon around him grew even harder to avoid. They were not the same pokemon of his dungeon of origin. And yet, if what Azelf said was true, they had been his same kin for longer than his reconditioned mind could possibly comprehend. Eoin found himself staring into the eyes of the Charmander reflected through the floor, as if attempting to gauge how many years of entrapment were hidden behind the soul they gatewayed.

He didn’t have long. Azelf floated upward with time gear in hand, positioning it just below the mountain peak were rock walls converged into a single point. A shudder ran down Eoin’s feet. There was something in the look Azelf gave to the grey pokemon at his side, a looked that seemed to carry over from siblings.

And now, we come to the real purpose of why I brought you here. My siblings and I have been talking a lot since Uxie left, and while I find some of their arguments...valid, there is a reason we protect these artifacts. The mystery dungeon’s boundaries end at the peak, and I would like to show you the failsafe of what happens if a time gear is taken. You will be safe, I can guarantee that.

The gear inched ever so slowly upward, stopping one last time as Azelf’s gaze locked onto the remements of grey flame underneath the Charmander’s cover.

Tell me Eoin, if you were charged with moving a campfire while keeping it alite, what must happen to the surrounding trees previously used to fuel it?

The Pallid’s head looked around on a swivel, finding that he was the only one phased by the statement. Eoin didn’t know exactly what the lake guardian had in store, but he could tell that it did not bode well for the fate of the creatures around him. He grew silent.

Please bear with me. I just want to prove a point, and a demonstration seems like it will be the most impactful.

Primal emotions seeped into Eoin’s conscious. The Charmander didn’t know how, but he had a few ideas of its source. Terror, curiosity, and tranquility appeared as quickly as they left. He shouted out, not giving his words a second thought.

“If the fire is to be maintained, the trees...they have to be cut down and transported to keep it fueled.”

...Correct.

The time gear raised to the mountain peak. Green pentagons around it faded, as did its blue radiance, as if it were a motor being reduced to low power mode with electrons being cut. A second passed of nothingness, before a once-forgotten sensation coursed through the Pallid’s body.

Emptiness.

He collapsed to the ground. Desolation was no longer a placebo, for a glance toward the pokemon around him found that they had similarly fallen the floor. Feral roars filled the room. Eoin drew a hand to his chest, unable to stem the feeling of his entire being ripped out from under him. He tried lifting his arm up, to no avail. Arms, legs, even blinking seemed like it was being stolen from him. His vision drew black, lost in the knowledge that everything that made him what he was had been frozen in time. The last thing he could see was Azelf appearing before him, and a hand being placed upon his head as three red gems shined. And then…

It stopped.

---​

“I...I guess this deathtrap of a dungeon isn’t done with us yet.”

Crazy as it may have been, Argon was inclined to agree. They may have been frozen in a figurative sense, but for the Rampardos motionless before them, the definition was entirely literal. Its head was lowered, pointed end just inches away from their skulls after the creature had lost control of itself and skidded to the floor. Time refused to move in any cell. Either the Bagon at her side was secretly a gorgon, or a force far more calculating and cruel than cold had sucked out the life force of their adversary.

“W-What happened?” asked Argon.

Chimera waved his good hand over the Rampardos’s grey eyes, finding no reaction. With what function was left in his right leg, he hovered it over the creature, just about to kick it for further analysis before pulling back. It was probably best not to test it.

“I...I don’t know, but we—arghh...we have to keep moving.”

The chilling numbness that bit against Argon’s fur corroborated the statement. She rushed back to her partner, attempting to analyze the extent of the damage.

“Can you walk?”

Chimera gave a slight nod. His left leg stood up well enough, but he howled in agony after attempting to put pressure on his right. The Bagon fell back to the floor, companion rushing to his side with oran berries in hand.

“N-No, don’t worry about it,” he said, plastic smile broken by another groan, “with how cold it is, I can barely feel it.”

It was a lie, and they both knew. A near silent sigh escaped Chimera’s mouth as a look between the two said what words couldn’t.

“Nnngh...alright, you got me. I can probably still move, but I’ll need some help.”

She nodded. Wind and snow howled from the cave’s entrance, assuring both that venturing anywhere outside of the unnatural cave would meet a slow and painful end. Luckily, or unluckily depending on perspective, the other end of the cavern revealed itself as more extensive than it initially seemed. If they were to have any hope of linking up with Eoin like they had planned, they would need to take the chance. Looking back at Chimera told Argon that the Bagon’s body was shouting out against any movement from the two broken limbs. Without careful preparation, they would only exacerbate the problem.

She looked to their exploration bags, empty from the process of getting travel and repairing her partner’s injuries. Only ice and snow pervaded their surroundings, nowhere near stable enough for a makeshift splint. Slowly, Argon’s gaze lowered to her paws. With any luck, necessity would again prove to be the mother of invention.

“W-We have to keep those limbs from moving, hold still. This might shock a bit, but you’re just going to have to trust me.”

“Sure, yeah, do it,” he replied, “I trust you. Besides, can’t make it worse than it already is.”

Electrons sparked from Argon’s cheeks. Chimera’s cringe soon faded away as she placed her paws over the broken limbs. Numbness overtook cold and pain, taking with it any ability for movement as the joints locked in place.

“Alright, that should keep it in place until we can get you to a doctor. C-Come on, we need to get moving.”

She held her paw out, grabbing the Bagon’s hand and slinging it around her neck. It was a tentative process, but they were able to balance against each other, minimizing the pressure against the paralyzed limb as they began to walk. Ice lined the walls between rock floor, making ever more difficult steps an upward battle towards the mountain peak.

Bagon and Raichu weren’t sure if they were more relieved or horrified at what they saw. Pallids were interspersed around the narrow corridors, all as motionless as their would be killer. Both pokemon stopped when Argon took a brief period to analyze a petrified Mamoswine. Flakes of frost condensed around its fur, any life left drained from its grey eyes. Most of the pallids they passed kept their feral snarls, but the rare pokemon before them undoubtedly showed there was a specific emotion its kind wasn't immune to.

Fear.

“D-Do you...do you think we can still save them?”

“It’s too late for that,” Chimera replied, nearly falling to the floor before regaining balance against his partner, “we got to worry about ourselves now.”

He could see the pain in her eyes, but she nodded. They walked past the Mamoswine, quivering with the sight of the thin patches of ice that formed on the surface of a deep pool of water. Their path grew even more vertical past the pool, forming a steep incline of ice and stone. There was nowhere to go but up.

They nodded to each other, slinging arms ever tighter around the other’s neck. Step by step, they climbed. Footholds were shallow and slippery, but they made progress, climbing upward in a manner that was as safe as it could be given the situation.

Until it wasn’t.

A shard up ice under Argon’s feet gave way, shriek filling the cavern as she skidded down the makeshift slide. Their hold took Chimera with her. Neither could do anything to stop their momentum, any sense of friction lost among the ice. It sucked, Chimera would be the first to admit that, but the Bagon concluded that it was only a minor setback. That is, until he saw what his companion was sliding toward.

The pool of water.

Chimera’s eyes shot open as she landed into the chilling water with a splash. He crawled to the pool as fast as a single leg and stubby arm could take him. With his help, Argon pulled herself out of the icy pond easy enough, but the damage was done. Both her own fur and the thick coat of wool were soaking wet. Water was already beginning to form into ice, punctuated by Chimera’s partner shuddered uncontrollably. The skin beneath her thin fur turned a pale white.

“W-What’s happening? I-I can’t feel my legs.”

The statement was blank, in spite of Argon’s shivering, said as if she were restating the long-winded motto for her own guild. In an instant, Chimera discarded his partner’s wet coat, replacing it with his own. There was now only a raincape to shield the Bagon’s scales from the cold, but he didn’t care.

“Here, you need this more than I do. S-Shit, we gotta get moving. Eoin’s at the peak of the mountain, he has to be. If we can get there, he can warm you up. At least I hope so.”

“B-But Eoin’s a pallid, what if he—”

“We have to try!” he shot back. “We...we have to hope, we don’t have any other options.”

They took hold of each other. In spite of Argon’s motor functions being lost to the cold, their second attempt was much more successful. They made it to the top of the fiendish slide, continuing up at a shallow incline towards the mountain peak. The Raichu’s steps became sluggish as the minutes passed, and frequently Chimera found that he now shared the role of being a balancing point.

“Keep pushing! We’ve gone through too much to give up now.”

She took another step, any semblance of control over her legs leaving as she fell to the icy floor.

“I-I...I’m sorry. I don’t think I can.”

“No…”

Chimera fell with her. He set her down, watching as her cobalt-blue eyes closed and blackness enveloped her vision. Tears fell down the Bagon’s cheeks. He held her close, finding her orange fur cold to the touch.

“Goddammit, it can’t be like this. You’re...you’re the partner pokemon for pete’s sake! If anybody's gonna die first, it’s gonna be me. I-I’ve had my second chance, you deserve it more than I do!”

His words fell on deaf ears; his partner was unconscious. For a brief second, his gaze shifted toward the path ahead. They had been climbing for a long time, and a hint of blue light shined at the end of the tunnel. A glint shined in Chimera’s eyes. He wiped away his tears, replacing fear with determination as he took hold of his partner with his one arm, and pushed against the icy floor with his one leg. The Bagon crawled, inch by bloody inch, dragging his partner in tow. He prayed to Arceus and fate alike that their salvation was within reach.

The minutes flowed together. Chimera was barely able to move himself, and dragging another pokemon behind him proved tiring. He huffed, bitter that his former occupation confined to a desk left him unprepared.

“Y-You know, I just realized something…”

His head turned. Argon was talking. She was talking! He smiled back to her, subconsciously vowing to do whatever he could to keep his partner cognizant.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“This would be a really...ironic way to die.”

Chimera’s smile disintegrated. He dragged Argon and himself over a short drop, both grunting when they hit the ice with a thud.

“Don’t...don’t say that. We’ll make it out of this. The cold must be making you delirious.”

“I-It’s true,” she replied, attempt to wave cut off by assurances that her limbs were useless, “m-my whole life, I choose the easy way out. I stayed home, I avoided others, I did as little work as possible because I told myself it would make me happier. Now that I might be at the end of it, being dragged by my half-dead partner in some random corner of a mountain, it’s...liberating, in a way.”

Just keep her talking, Chimera thought, if she’s focused on something she might not go into shock like I did.

“Honestly,” Chimera said, punctuating his statement with what was likely the fakest laugh of his entire life, “you’re probably winning on the whole ‘almost-dead’ competition. How ‘bout I pay the rent for the next month after we get back, as a reward?”

The Raichu giggled for a brief moment, before sinking back into silence. With every second he pushed, the blue light seemed to get farther away.

“D-Did I...did I ever tell you about my parents?” Argon asked.

“No, but I’m sure they want to see you. I’m sure they would be proud of everything you’ve done.”

She sank back.

“Yeah, they would. M-My dad was a ninetales if you can believe it. He...he was everything I wasn’t, kinda like you. You couldn’t find a more self made ‘mon, always going on missions, dangerous and lucrative ones.”

Her eyes closed, drawing another gasp from her partner as visages of ornate berries and familiar trinkets appear in her conscious. Sitting on top, was the thunderous mark of a yellow stone.

“T-There wasn’t a single thing I could ask for that they couldn’t provide for me. Literally. If I made a comment about wanting a ginseng smoothie for breakfast you can bet they’d have a full crate mail ordered to our house.”

“That sounds...nice,” Chimera replied, words leaving his mouth on their own accord. His partner was freezing to death, and yet as the Bagon mulled over the story, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of envy.

“A-Anyway,” she continued, “they said I never asked for much, but there was always this sense of extravagance in the way we lived. A-And...it had a cost. Dad was always traveling. Whether on business or explorations, he’d send us letters of all the amazing sights he saw, how much he appreciated the opportunity we had. He always tried to cover up his injuries when I got to see him, but I could see it in his eyes, the...toll it was having on his body and mind.”

Argon’s words washed away her partner’s jealousy. Her voice grew even softer, barely whispering after a short pause.

“Eventually, it got to be too much. H-He got back from exploring an uncharted snow valley around my family’s old home outside of Faire. His fire helped, but it gets a lot colder when the places you’re exploring aren’t part of a tropical region. I ran down to see him, and…”

Chimera was silent. His partner had stopped shivering, emotions bitter and cold running down her spine.

“I-It was frostbite. He had bandages around his two back legs above the joint. B-Below the joint...Arceus.”

Both stopped. Chimera grabbed hold of Argon, tranquil expression on her face being met by pure terror. They embraced, as awkwardly as they could with one participant having an arm paralyzed.

“No matter what happens, you’re gonna be fine,” he pleaded, “you’re strong, stronger than I am. S-Someday, when it’s cold, we’re gonna sit down and share a drink and think about how funny this all was. This’ll just be a memory.”

She nodded, though her expression didn’t change. Chimera continued their endless drag down the winding paths of the dungeon, passing ice, rock, and motionless pallids along the way.

“A-And he kept working, even after losing two limbs. I-I was only a Pichu then. They were great parents given the circumstances, sacrificing so much so I could have a career like them. But after that day I...I couldn’t take it. I ran, like I always do.”

She chuckled bitterly to herself.

“It was the most pathetic attempt you could ever imagine. I-I didn’t even bring a coat, just some food and a map, thinking that would keep me alive. T-They had to rescue me after three days, Dad hiked all that way with two wheels on his back legs. After they brought me back things...changed. T-They argued, they yelled, but eventually they told me that I could choose my own fate.”

“And that’s why you left for Faire?” Chimera asked, tone almost as soft as hers.

“Yes. I-I left...I left because I knew it would be easy. I read these catalogues in my spare time that told me Faire was a land of opportunity, that by joining the WFG I could make a living were I wouldn’t be in any danger. I-It was true, sort of. I had all the time in the world, I had a roof over my head, pathetic as it may have been, and...I was content, or miserable, I can’t really remember.”

A faint, pink aura emanated from Chimera’s weapon, lifting it a fraction of an inch before it dissipated into nothingness.

“I was a pikachu for...a week, I think? Maybe less. I-I made a promise the day I evolved, that I would live life in the easiest manner possible. But...that also had sacrifices. My evolutions were so close that I never fully learned to properly use my psychic abilities.”

“Well, I guess that’s one thing we can relate to,” Chimera said, returning her grin.

“O-Of course. That’s why I walk everywhere, among other reasons. T-That’s why I got this big, goofy tail strapped to my back, because without telekinesis I can’t move it otherwise.”

“Could’ve had me fooled,” replied the Bagon, “I just always assumed it was something natural to your species.”

The tunnels dragged on, ice lining the walls ever more prevalent with each attempt at a step. Her tone darkened.

“I...I guess w-what I’m trying to say is that dying in this cave seems like...fate. I-I had my Mom read me this book when I was little, Heroes of Time. I fell asleep before the end of it, but it was about a former-human and pokemon that go on a journey to collect the time gears. No matter what promises I made to myself, no matter how much I tried to avoid it, m-my destiny was sealed when I found you on that beach. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve learned a lot through it, but...I guess I have to accept my fate.”

Again, Chimera stopped, looking toward Argon in an expression between pleading and bargain.

“I know what you’re talking about, thinking that everything here fits into one pre-planned story, but it’s not true!”

He whispered.

“God...please don’t let it be true.”

Silence followed. Chimera’s heart skipped a beat as his partner’s eyes closed. She smiled back to him, tears soaking into her own yellow cheeks.

“Y-You know, being with you has made me realize something. D-Dad was always exhausted whenever he came home, but when I looked at him, he was...smiling. Even after the incident, he never stopped laughing. I guess his life had more of a purpose than mine, helping pokemon, contributing to society. Ever since you and I teamed up, we’ve helped more pokemon in one month than four years of living on my own. I-I mean...Eoin’s the only one I can name off the top of my head. But still, it feels nice. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Chimera instantly replied, “you’re the kindest creature, human or pokemon, that I’ve ever met. You’re more generous than I’ll ever be, and no matter what happens, I’ll always appreciate it.”

She nodded, eyes still closed with head aimed toward the rocky ceiling.

“I...I think I’m gonna get some sleep now. It’s peaceful.”

“No!” he shouted. “You can’t! I—”

Chimera’s head turned. A brief glimmer of hope filled his heart with what he saw, something that on any other day would only bring exasperation.

Stairs. Orderly, icy, stairs.
 
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Chapter 20: The Mission
Author's Note: Hello All! Apologies for the late chapter. Life has been getting kinda busy, but with any luck I'll be able to get back in the game. Also, if you haven't already, I'd highly recommend you check out the complete revisions of the prologue through chapter 4. They're not perfect, nor necessary to read in order to continue enjoying the current chapters, but I believe its made the beginning of the story something I can be proud of.

---​

The feeling was eerily familiar.

Eoin's entire being had been forced out within the span of a few seconds. It froze his body, taking away any chance for locomotion. There was no doubt in the Pallid's mind that his conscious would soon follow. There was perhaps only one experience he could describe as more painful.

So, why did he feel fine?

The precedence of an answer came easily enough. Eoin felt a familiar hand grab his, while another pressed against his forehead. With their touch, came visions of the aura that had stemmed from the room's inhabitants. He gasped; all the blue radiances forming a path toward the time gear had disappeared. The gear itself had been haphazardly dropped in front of the Charmander. It pulsed with unprecedented brightness, enough that Eoin was forced to shield grey eyes already covered by opaque goggles. Seeing such vivid imagery brought another realization to the Pallid; in exception to the time gear, only two other sources of light filled the room.

Azelf, and Eoin. Every other pokemon was stuck in aura-less paralysis.

Now you see. For Arceus's sake, Eoin, if you still plan on going along with that Bagon and Raichu's plan to remove the time gears, I'm not sure what else I can do.

His face was fixed in shock. The pallids before him, while not from the dungeon of his origins, were his kin. They had lived, stared back with eyes so much like his own; Now, they were little more than clay soldiers guarding a charged gear. Eoin tried to scurry toward one, but was stopped by the same arm clamped onto his.

I know it's awkward for both of us, but please keep holding my hand. Or don't, if you want to end up like them. Lending you my aura can get a little taxing.

After feeling a surge of pain crawl up his chest from their grip loosening, Eoin complied. For a couple seconds, he stood in tentative silence, before adrenaline again shot up the Pallid's spine. Grey embers fell to the icy floor, born from recollection of an instance that had given the draining sensation so much familiarity.

"The cave of my origins also had its time gear removed. Are...are my kin there—"

Just as stiff? Ee-yup.

A slight chuckle beamed into Eoin's mind.

Gotta wonder if there's a lucario below that cave. What would they call it? The no-aura pokemon?

Both pokemon could hear a pin drop underneath their mountainous surroundings.

Apologies...too soon. But anyway, the pallids here and there don't have to be like this. A time gear only needs to be restored for it to go off of emergency mode.

Azelf grabbed hold of the time gear, holding it in the direction just before it was originally taken. Perhaps it was simply from being the only other pokemon in the room truly living, but the Charmander could see a change in the lake guardian's expression. Eoin scarcely remembered Azelf looking toward the Pallid with anything other than in impassive glare. Now, however, there was a hint of a smile. He doubted the legendary had much chance for fraternizing after millenia spent protecting the time gear.

My siblings have already abandoned their duty, Eoin. You and me, we're the last line of defense from the same thing happening across Faire. If the time gears are brought together...lets just say they have a habit of amplification.

Just as the words finished beaming into Eoin's mind, Azelf eyes closed. The legendary's head drew to the floor, seconds passing as his expression grew fiercer by the second. Nothing had shifted inside of the mountain to justify such change; Eoin could only assume he was likewise stuck in contemplation.

"Azelf, are you—"

The Charmander keeled over. Reverberations of Azelf's voice echoed through his mind, more of a scream than anything.

Don't you dare put that on me, you traitor! They trusted us. We were made with an express purpose. We had a duty, and you just...left.

Once again, silence. The initial shock of the psychic scream ended, and Eoin was able to pick himself up. With no one else to turn to as target of the lake guardian's accusation, the Pallid could only return Azelf's aimless scowl.

"Is that really how you think of me? Look around you. Thousands of creatures with the potential for a better life, denied so because of some preconceived notion that they be forced into a higher purpose. Doing nothing to try to fix it, you're no better than...than them."

This isn't about you! Azelf blared, spatting the words into the recesses of Eoin's mind. Consider yourself lucky you don't have to deal with a voice in your head whenever you try to knock some sense into someone of our destiny. In fact, why don't you come out, brother? It's been long overdue that we settle this face to face.

Immediately, a brief flash manifested before Eoin and Azelf. When the frost settled, the same remorseful stare between three red gems greeted him. The Pallid had long wondered where it stemmed from, and now he knew.

"Greetings, Eoin. I'm sorry our reunion couldn't have been under better circumstances. It's not every day you sense a time gear being removed."

The knowledge pokemon seemed the slightest bit different since their last meeting. A dark blue lei was wrapped around his neck, relative tackiness accompanied by a slight shift in Uxie's posture. Eoin couldn't put his claw on it, but the legendary seemed...looser. The piercing, blind stare that had been donned by Uxie ever since their first encounter had been abandoned, in favor of a melancholic grin.

But that wasn't it, there was one more glaring difference in the lake guardian. After a moments contemplation, the answer ran clear through Eoin's eardrums. Uxie had only appeared seconds ago, but he had already done something the Pallid had long thought impossible.

"You are...talking. How? Why?"

Uxie's face brightened, in spite of the continued stares of his sibling. Another flash of light filled the room, replacing the knowledge pokemon before them with a Charmander. A second burst of illumination, and in the Charmander's place was an Espeon, before being exchanged for a Xatu. In all three transformations, Uxie's smile, as well as the lei around his neck remained.

"Pokemon around Faire don't exactly take well to having words beamed into their minds, and you can't expand your horizon under an illusion of invisibility. Personally, this is my favorite form. In fact, does it seem a little familiar?"

Eoin racked his thoughts. The Pallid rarely had the opportunity to see a Xatu on his journey, but a single instance ran clear through his mind. He chuckled; How had he not seen it sooner?

"You were...the quiet librarian I met at the edge of Pith Town, the one I had to call toward because you were so enamored in a book."

"An Unabridged History of Political Philosophy, Volume 3," Uxie replied, "a little too didactic for my taste, but after seeing it catch the attention of a certain grey Charmander, who was I to not give it a try?"

Eoin's fire flared from its cover in recollection. A part of him had always wondered how Uxie had delivered the tools for his education from one side of Faire to the next. Still, even with such familiarity, the knowledge of how it was attained brought uneasiness. They had said goodbye weeks ago, but had they really? Hearing Uxie's telepathic call in comparison to what few words the Xatu had said, the latter was somewhat higher pitched. Less the expected call call of an omnipotent being of knowledge, and laden with stammers more along the lines of a pokemon not used to hearing their own voice.

"Do you know how nice a ukulele sounds, Eoin?" Uxie continued. "You can't exactly learn how to play one sulking in a cave. The culture of these pokemon has been a tremendous experience to learn, all things considered...notwithstanding the hardships accompanying them."

For a brief second, Uxie's smile dimmed, letting nostalgia between them fade into the chilling air. He turned to Azelf, arm still held tightly to the Pallids.

"I...decided to take a page from Eoin's book, and give myself a name different from what the gods had proclaimed. Koios, that's what I call myself now. Would you consider taking up one, brother?"

Azelf was unamused. With the grey charmander still holding his hand, he floated over to a similarly tinted scorbunny. Its face was frozen in shock. With no control over its own body, Azelf casually laid his other hand over its shoulder.

Well, that is just fine and dandy! Did you hear that, Scorbunny? Uxi-oh, I'm sorry, Koios here just picked himself up a name. Doesn't that just make you want to jump up in joy? Oh, right...you can't.

Azelf turned to Eoin, renewed willpower perceivable through the stream of aura flowing between their arms.

No more avoiding the obvious. So long as 'Koios' here continues shirking his work, the pallids below his cave are stuck in a fate worse than death. Is that truly what you want?

Eoin already knew the answer. In relinquishing the time gear, the Pallid was the sole survivor of Uxie's Cave. He turned to Koios, the hint of a scowl forming under inquisitiveness.

"True enough. I need to know. All that paralysis, all that suffering, for what? For me? Whose redemption is this, mine, or yours?"

There it was, the same solemn expression that had been their parting glance. Koios breathed a deep sigh, eyelids locked in perpetual stare towards the icy floor.

"We've known each other for…a long time, Eoin. Well, in soul at least. I still remember the first day after Dialga instructed me with defending the flow of time. I was making my rounds around the gear, floating in a little circle. I glance around to the creatures I was told would provide the necessary aura, and lo and behold, a small, grey charmander was sitting in the corner, observing. Not quite understanding, but watching nonetheless."
Eoin let out something between a chuckle and a snort . A part of the Charmander's brain couldn't deny such enduring familiarity, only it was the part that had wrestled for control of his body since the beginning.

"Was it really me?" he asked. "Ever since I received your gift, my conscious has been...split. If it was not the same body, nor the same mind, how can we truly say that was the same pokemon?"

"I have no doubt," Koios instantly replied, "when I dove into your mind, it wasn't my mission to divide it. I simply sped up a natural process, gave it the capacity to experience new knowledge and emotions. I'm sure you know that it can be an overwhelming experience. In hindsight, you'd probably be dead from mental overload if your mind hadn't made such a defense mechanism."

Eoin wasn't sure if that was better or worse. On one hand, he could hope that the it wasn't permanent. With enough time, perhaps his conscious could adapt further, and not require going back to a mindset unfit for the world he imagined? On the other...

The pallid let out a small, defeated sigh. "No more denying it then." He let his goggles fall around his neck. "Everything it has done, that it could do—I am responsible for, whether I like it or not."

Eoin's eyes closed. Underneath blackness, the Pallid swore he could see himself, staring back with the same feral smile that had preceded it taking control. It was naive, brimming with simplicity, and for a brief second, Eoin questioned why he was returning it with a scowl.

It cuts both ways, I suppose. You are a ceaseless aggression, but...only one of us will end up with blood on his claws.

He huffed, halfheartedly kicking a chunk of ice across the floor. Azelf and Koios levitated in silence. They were, at the moment, blind to the Pallid's thoughts, but an understanding floated between them to let the Charmander have his moment.

I really should hate you. You have been my enemy from the beginning, more keen on sinking their fangs into another than taking the time to improve yourself. But, in spite of all of it...I pity you, and envy, in a way. Bitterness, ambiguity, affection for reasons more than simple reproduction, you know none of it. You do not spend hours thinking and overthinking the path you must follow. For all of my life's joy, sooner or later it envelopes the conscious.

It continued smiling. Arceus knew whether the Charmander staring back at him had gotten the message, but Eoin nonetheless paused. Memories played on repeat, bringing with them another realization.

And, whenever I started to drown...you held your hand out. True, many instances your timing could have been better, but if Koios truly is correct, then...perhaps we can be more than adversaries.

A familiar sensation surged up the back of Eoin's spine. It brought along the usual strain, but the discomfort was much less forceful than usual, almost as if being more of an offering than a demand. The Pallid grasped for the collection of stun seeds in his bag, but after a seconds glance at his double's expression, stayed his hand.

Please, not now. I can handle it currently, and there is much work to be done.

The Charmander in his conscious remained, as did the strain, but it did not advance as usual. Under Eoin's shut eyes, the Beast's expression remained neutral. Its feral eyes seemed almost...unconvinced. Eoin let out a deep sigh; if it had to be done—

For my own health, I will stop fighting, I promise you that. You will have time in control, just under less...urgent circumstances. You have my word.

To his surprise, the Charmander disappeared, taking with it the pressing against his conscious. After a few tentative seconds testing his bodies jurisdiction, the grey blaze on Eoin's tail subsided to an ember. He turned to the lake guardians, motioning to continue.

"Oh, alright then," Koios said, clearing his throat, "for generations I served just as my brother did, floating alongside the grey, unthinking pokemon that attacked any who dared enter the mystery dungeon. My entire lifetime I thought nothing of it, until my wandering mind began to notice...changes."

We did our duty, Azelf added, I still do. Time continued flowing, the pokemon of the outside world started gaining their sapience, and Dialga made sure that a time gear being taken wouldn't be the first step to catastrophe.

"They weren't the only ones," Koios interjected. "The signs took thousands of years, and millions of resets to appear, but they became unignorable. A cubone polishing its club with the cavern walls even after its soul was put into a new body. A beedrill smearing its pincers with charcoal to make drawings on the walls. Or...the straw that broke the camerupt's back, a charmander walking away despite everything in its programing telling it to attack."

Shut eyes stared toward Azelf.

"You've been doing this just as long as I have, don't tell me you didn't also see the pallids changing."

Of course I did, Azelf replied, breaking eye contact to stare towards the gear in his hand, but it was not our place to question or alter it. If the pallids did change, it was for a purpose. You were the one that left to go on your own selfish soul-searching, in the process condemning the creatures you supposedly care about. What justification could you possibly have for throwing away your time gear like a used candy wrapper?

All eyes were on Koios. Azelf punctuated the statement by pointing his own gear towards the knowledge pokemon. His sibling's three gems fumed with every second of silence.

"It was, pardon the wording, an eye opener, seeing the paragon of the pallid's development. Knowing they could fear, they could experience pain, they could question their decisions, I realized that it wasn't right. The gods couldn't have made these creatures only for them to be trapped for all eternity."

How can you be sure? Azelf asked. Did you hear their intentions? Did you watch Arceus rubber stamp the form himself? Who's to say it wasn't their place, or that you haven't interfered in the god's plans?

Azelf turned towards the cave's epicenter. With time gear in hand, he began levitating in its direction, only for his other hand to be tugged back down. He pivoted back, finding Eoin with his feet planted firmly to the floor.

"I didn't leave simply for myself," Koios growled, "when I looked over memories of the first real visitors I had in decades, I thought...I hoped, that by transferring the time gear to them, they could find a way to fix the faulty system you seem so intent on defending."

I thought Mespirit was the bleeding heart, Azelf huffed.

Eoin glanced between them. Shards of psychic energy began forming around the two legendaries. In an instant, he turned toward Koios, just about to jump to his side when the energy dissipated. The Pallid breathed a sigh of relief, accompanying the silent nod between siblings. It seemed, both were content to let words damage where attacks couldn't.

And how did that plan work out?

"Better than the alternative," Koios replied, "with protecting the gear out of my hands, I was free to leave that undersea prison and implore Dialga to find another solution to the dilemma. I would have done it immediately, if not for...complications."

The Pallid shuddered. In his infancy, taking care of a pokemon feral and completely new to the outside world must have been a full-time job. The grey stares from his surrounding kin grew ever heavier.

"Why bother with me, then? With a cause as important is this, why take the time fretting over a pokemon who didn't even know how to use a toilet?"

Koios and Eoin looked down in recollection, an impudent smile on one, met by a cringe from the other. Seeing the Pallid droop, and his face turn away in chagrin, Koisos approached. The legendary laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Memories aside, the answers already been said. I knew what would happen when the time gear was removed. For a brief period after the two left, I accepted it, told myself that the pallids would have to lie in stagnation if I were to have the chance to make my claim. But...when you popped up on that isle, I-I thought of it as a chance to undo at least some of the harm I had caused."

Levity fell to the floor. Eoin looked up, jumping at the moisture seeping through Koios's eyelids.

"Lost, afraid, ignorant to what had become of the pokemon your soul had known for eons, y-you deserved better, all of you did. Unfortunately, my powers weren't strong enough to gift everyone. With so much time spent guarding, I let them fall into debility. But...if I could just save one."

While the correlation was not immediate, guilt still crept up the Pallid's spine. Arceus knew he was thankful his gift, but the knowledge remained that his new life came at the expense of countless others.

"So, that's it then," Eoin said, chuckling, "I...guess we both have much to atone for, a duty to absolve the incapacity our own existence has caused."

Koios nodded, lifting up a hand to rub his eyelids. He turned to Azelf.

"Haven't you ever thought about it? Traveling the world, finding your true purpose, raising a...a son? Does none of that sound appealing to you?"

Eoin jumped, mouth suspended mid-breath. Analyzing Koios's studiousness in his growth over the past month, the realization dawned on him of the statement's true implications. The smile dawned by Koios whenever he brought the semi-sapient Charmander another book, the proud look it had given the creature once it had learned its first words, every memory came to the forefront. The Pallid had once thought Dialga was the closest thing he had to a father; locking eyes with the attentive legendary before him, he now knew that wasn't true.

I know my place, Azelf replied, it's not for you to decide. I was made to protect the time gears, and uphold their decisions. By Arceus, I'll have the willpower to see it through.

"But what if their decisions are outdated?" Koisos retorted. "That's why I came here. One lake guardian isn't enough to be considered worthy of their audience. If I—if we, are to change this broken system, we both have to have the will to ask questions."

All eyes shifted to Azelf. With Koios's statement, dread crawled up Eoin's spine. The Pallid realized just how important the legendary before them was, and how difficult their mission became. If Dialga was as self-assured as he seemed, they'd in all likelihood need three guardians to jam their feet in the god's door.

We...we all have a destiny. Since the dawn of time, they've kept the status quo; I doubt three of their washed up children would be able to convince them otherwise. I'm willing to let my destiny stay in this mountain; it's only right the pallids do the same.

Eoin sighed; This was getting nowhere. Ironic as it may be, the source of the surrounding pokemon's locomotion was the very thing keeping them confined from the rest of the region. They needed some outside source, some extra variable to convince the faithful servant before them that its mission was folly. After a moment's recollection of his arrival, a smile crept up the Pallid's face. He had it.

"From our actions or not, Azelf, you will not be able to keep the time gear here, anyway."

He saw the legendary's incredulous scowl and matched it with a smirk.

"You must know I did not come alone. What will you do about the representatives of the guild?"

Oh, the half-dead band of two trekking through the mountain as we speak? Azelf asked, voice dripping with gloomy humor. I could restore the time gear right now, let the pallids they've passed tear them to shreds, but the threat of doing so will probably be enough to make them turn away.

Eoin cursed. The willpower pokemon was correct in how perilous his companion's situation was, and he couldn't possibly bluff against a pokemon that could peer into his mind. Luckily, he didn't need to.

"Whether they come back dead or alive, Azelf, the Girafarig knows where your time gear is now. If it's not the Bagon and Raichu, it will be another ten exploration teams. What will you do when that happens?"

Azelf responded with a frown. Eoin felt the legendary peer into his conscious, only now, it was to his advantage. Assured of his honesty, Azelf's three gems dimmed.

I saw in your memories the influence of the guild. If they invaded, I could hide, but...they'd have pokemon who could sense my aura. I could fight, but the tenth or hundredth team might have a chance of prevailing. To keep the time gear safe, my only option is to—

"To flee," Koios continued, "during which these pallids would have their aura sucked out from the time gear's emergency mode anyway. Like it or not, you can't stay here. They'll hunt you down, like they would have done for me, whether those two come home empty-handed or in a casket."

Silence overtook the mountain. Even without the psychic capabilities of the pokemon at his side, Eoin could see Azelf's mind spinning. The willpower pokemon's head lowered to the floor, during which seven stages of grief seemed to flash through his face. Sharp pain coursed through the Charmander's body and into his mind, stemming from the short arm that had been the only thing protecting him from the time gear's hunger. The migraine ended as soon as it appeared, punctuated by the three gems fading to a near non-existent radiance.

Damn you, damn them too. We give the pokemon of this world a working system, and what do they do? They misuse it, repurpose the instruments of time for their own needs. I...I had a purpose. I knew what I was.

"You still do, brother," Koios replied, holding his hand out, "I implore you, come with me and let us fix this. Heck, you can argue against me for all I care, but at least let us get through the front door."

The lake guardians locked eyes, at least as well as they could with only one open pair. Eoin put a hand to his chin. He couldn't let them report the mission as a failure. If Eoin knew the Girafarig well enough, he'd flood the island with more exploration teams than there already was. The Pallid had plans, and such undue attention at such a critical point was something he didn't need.

Well then, what do we do? Throw away our second used candy wrapper? You already know what'll happen if they're brought together, and that's not something any of us want.

Eoin's fire blared. It was a risky venture, but at this point the Pallid doubted he had many options left.

"I will do it, then. Give me the time gear."

Even Koios's stare was the slightest bit incredulous.

"Let me explain. If I posses the time gear, they will report the exploration as a success. After that, I only need to buy time. Once I show them...once they see why terror filled my heart, they will both know why they must not complete their mission."

"Please," Koios continued, "it will be in good hands. The time gear is not being thrown away, just...repossessed. You're still fulfilling your duty, and as the guardians of these objects, it is in our best interest to make sure their use is as moral and efficient as can be."

Azelf's expression was unchanging. He clutched the time gear close, looking between it and the grey Charmander that could only be described as partially sapient. In a way, Eoin could understand the legendary's apprehension. They both had a duty, were both honor bound to goals that couldn't help but contradict each other. He turned to Koios, finding that he had again reached out toward Azelf, expression solemn.

"You're right about one thing, brother. I did abandon you. I left on a whim, and I can't imagine how much that has degraded my character. You have very little reason to follow me now, but I ask that you humor me one last time."

Bits of rock and snow fell to the icy floor, alleviating the silence. It did little to dull the piercing, yellow eyes staring towards Koios's hand. For a brief second, Eoin expected the legendary to act on the red light fuming from its gems. To end their truce in a righteous last stand against the pokemon that sought to take it away. When Azelf's mouth opened, however, what left was not a Shadow Ball, but a long-winded sigh. Yellow eyes met eyelids, owner of the former chuckling softly.

Do you...do you remember that stupid game we all used to play over telepathy to pass the time? How the decades fly; how long has the campaign been going for?

Koios returned the sudden grin. Eoin could only shrug at the statement. He looked over between the crowd of pallids, finding an isolated corner of the room. Carved stone of varying shapes lined the ground. The most prominent one, an icosahedron, lay in the center. Carved on its utmost side was a small number one, sending a shiver up the Pallid's spine for reasons unknown.

"I've lost track, honestly." Koios replied, holding a hand up to hide a snicker, "You always were the best arbiter of our trio. If I remember correctly, we left off in the middle of the dungeon after—"

After both of your characters spent hours trying to solve the incredibly easy gems puzzle? 'Don't worry brother, you don't need to handhold us'. I was this close to just giving out a vision of the future that would tell you how to solve it.

Eoin grinned. It was Koios's turn to cringe.
"I-It...it seemed more complicated than it looked. And it's not like you're the perfect player. How many of your characters died from their stringent adherence to the laws? It got so bad that Mespirit and I started calling your alignment lawful stu—

Point taken, though...those thieves got what was coming to them.

Eoin's head tilted. What the two legendaries had said could barely be called cordial, and yet the smile between them had not faltered. It seemed, even with his gift, there was much to learn about civilized interaction. He continued looking toward Azelf. The willpower pokemon's eyes wandered, shifting between closed recollection and the mechanism of time in his hand.

I guess, what I'm trying to say is... I miss the olden days. When you told me that you were leaving, I was angry, of course, but after a month without either of your psychic presence, I understand the reason for that nostalgia.

Without another word. Azelf met the Pallid's hand, loosening his grip of the time gear. Silent gasps escaped both Koios and Eoin, quickly replaced with a melancholic smile.

The mission was important. It still is, but it's not a journey that can be done alone.

He turned to Koios, posture loosening ever so slightly.

If you ask me, it's still a fool's bargain, and I'll make that known to the gods, but I suppose resolving this conflict personally is better than
letting silence burn whatever bridges I have left.

"Oh. I am...glad, brother," Koios replied, "this'll be better for both of us, I promise you that."

Azelf's expression remained unchanged, but he nonetheless redirected his attention to Eoin. The gear was heavy in his hands, a sensation exacerbated by the willpower pokemon's glare. It was still a smile, through holding much more purpose than previous.

The torch is yours to hold now. Keep it close to the chest; I don't think I need to remind you of the stakes at play.

Eoin nodded. With tentative silence flooding the mountain, he turned toward the stairs. After his first step, however, he shifted back, finding his arm held firmly in place by Azelf. The smile had faded.

One last tidbit, Eoin. It's a dangerous game you're playing. I'll go along with my brother on our mission, but from one guardian to another, focus on the pragmatic. You know as well as I that these aren't the only pallids that are confined. Help those that can still be helped.

The Pallid dug his feet into the floor. His tail flared in resolution.

"You said it yourself, we all have a role to play. You do your part, and I will do mine."

Koios joined in. He had the appearance of the priest of a mountainous graveyard. Looking over the grey pokemon that surrounded, it appeared too accurate.

"We've both seen your memories. Your path ahead, I can't deny its righteousness, but the facts remain. Upsetting the status quo… you'll be starting a war."

Eoin turned away, re-donning his goggles. With Koios's eyes already closed, it was a pointless gesture. Embers fell to the floor as he returned the legendary's gaze.

"You know that. Don't you?"

He did. For a brief second, Eoin's eyes closed, and the imagery of a previous dreams flooded his thoughts. He shook his, forcing the blood from his claws as best he could.

"If it has to be done, I go there proudly. Thank you again, Koios, for everything. We both have a mission greater than ourselves. It is too late in the gambit for doubt."

Slowly, the knowledge pokemon nodded. Eoin again turned to the stairs, stopping only at a sight that drained the spirit from his soul more so than a time gear ever could. Two freezing and fading figures, brimming with familiarity, appearing as though they'd soon be climbing stairs owned by a higher power than Azelf.
 
Chapter 21: Friends, Come and Gone
He had to be here.

Sure, it wasn't her objective, not really, but a part of her had been looking forward to another meeting with the Bagon. Staring toward the vast expanse of mountain before her, a figure trudged through the snow, clad in a jagged, red cloak that shielded her quadrupedal body from the gushing frost.

She had traveled too far, spent too long following the faint outline of an aircraft to miss it. There was a bone to pick, a promise to herself that she was more than just a failure at petty theft. In any other circumstance, the venture would be somewhat dull, just another step for clues in a never ending fight against time itself. However, as the faint, blue, outline of her target made itself clear in the distance, one thing was certain.

The game was afoot.

---​

Eoin couldn't decide who was closer to death, the surrounding pallids, or the two pokemon who had collapsed to the icy floor.

Chimera was in front. A fair part of the Bagon's scales were covered in blood and a mishmash of bandages. The sight sent a shiver up Eoin's spine. He looked down to his claws, a couple blinks confirming they were still as clean as ever.

Gazing back up, Chimera's right was reaching out, unmoving, and contorted in ways the Charmander didn't even know were possible. A curious glance from Eoin between his own flinches found that the Bagon's left leg was in a similar state.

"W-What happened to you? I...I must tell you something first, there is pressing information that you must—"

"For God's sake, Eoin," Chimera shouted, "that can wait! She's gonna die if you don't get your fiery butt here right now!"

The Bagon dragged himself away, revealing the unconscious Raichu behind. Adrenaline shot up the Pallid's spine. She was lying face up on the ground, orange fur across her entire body frozen under a layer of condensed frost. Underneath the fur around her legs, Argon's skin had turned a pale white. For a brief second, Eoin stood dormant. The Pallid gazed toward her with mouth agape.

"W-What? No...not her, anyone but her."

The Charmander bolted across the room. A glance over his shoulder confirmed that Azelf was still holding his hand, expression likewise locked in terror.

"What happened?" Eoin asked. "How did both of you get like...like this?"

"A combination of bad luck, carelessness on my part, and a visit from one of this death dungeon's grey assholes," Chimera retorted, silently gasping with realization that they were surrounded by said aberrations, "now put that fire to use and help her! I know from experience how hot it can be."

Eoin nodded. With not a moment's hesitation, he wrapped his body around the Raichu. Her skin was cold to the touch, and even with his natural body heat, the Charmander doubted that would be enough to bring her from death's door.

"P-Please, don't die on me now, Argon. You reignited my flame, it is only right I return the favor."

Eoin pulled away, cursing. After hours spent in confined to the inside of an icy mountain, his skin had cooled to preserve his inner flame. Azelf and Koios watched as the Charmander craned his neck down, and shot out a small stream of sooty ember over his entire body. A wince from Azelf confirmed that the Charmander's scales had absorbed the heat, and were now the temperature of a particularly fast-acting handwarmer. Content with his handiwork, Eoin returned the embrace. Pain surged up his conscious once the Legendary was forced to break their hold, but it quickly subsided after he felt the same hand on his back.

"...Argon?" Chimera asked, eyes wide. "Are you awake? Can you understand what I'm saying?"

No response. Argon's eyes remained closed, stuck in an expression both lizards could only describe as mortifyingly peaceful. Eoin stomped his feet to the floor. His tail flared over every passing moment as he continued the embrace.

It could have been minutes, but for all either of them knew it might have been hours. Just as Eoin turned back from another reinvigoration of his body heat, the Raichu's eyes opened a smidge. As ironic as it might have seemed, her body started shivering from the extra warmth.

"A-Alright, good...that's good," Chimera exclaimed, holding his arm in front of her eyes, "how many fingers am I holding up? And please don't say five, you can direct your complaints to whoever decided giving me cartoon hands was the best choice."

Argon squinted. The appendage before her was just as blurry as the strange voice of its source. No less out of reach was the answer of where she was, and why she couldn't feel anything below the waist. Still, even in her vision's black borders and relative gaziness, the comforting warmth enveloping her was a welcome addition. She pulled in closer, wrapping the source of heat around her like a blanket. Eoin jumped at the gesture, but after a second's surprise he continued reciprocating.

"D-Dad? I-Is that your voice?"

Her head swerved, focusing itself on an empty point just past where the Bagon was lying. She rolled to her side. The ice against her back was less springy than what the Raichu expected.

"Do I have to go? It's so warm here, c-can you just give me five more minutes?"

Chimera sighed. He didn't know what hypothermic visions the cold was making her see, but he had a few ideas.

"Sorry, I can't let that happen. You've gone through too much to spend the rest of your life here."

"B-But...are you sure?" she moaned. "You know as well as I it's a lot easier staying here in my room than going to those stupid school parties. All...a-all that time learning how to dance, and in the end I always end up standing in the corner, waiting for a pokemon that'll never come."

The Raichu's head lowered in resignation. Her eyes were closed, expression locked in the gaze Chimera recalled when their lives were being analyzed by a certain being of knowledge.

"I-I..I sometimes wonder why you even bothered with me, Dad. You were Mom's everything. Y-You meant something to her, you made an impact on countless other pokemon's lives. And here I am, lying on my secluded corner of the earth, waiting."

The Raichu's skin sent shivers up Eoin's spine, matching Chimera's own trepidation. It should have been a euphoric experience, getting to hold Argon like she had done to him, but the Charmander couldn't enjoy a second of it. She continued looking past both, centered on a phantom staring at her through the ice.

"A-And what was I waiting for?" she asked. "Looking back, it's been my own fault. It's hypocritical to expect anybody to find meaning in you when you run away from every chance to reach out. Or at least make something better of yourself."

Chimera waved a hand over his eyes, not sure if the tears were existing or recent. He slammed his arm against the floor, locking eyes with the grey Charmander embracing her.

"Are you sure you're being careful?" the Bagon spat. "There won't be any electric types to treat her if you send her into shock."

"As careful as I can be," Eoin retorted. "I understand your warning, the process must be...gradual, if she is to recover."

Lizards and lake guardians continued gazing toward Argon. Her shivering had increased, and the whiteness under her legs was starting to lose some of its hue.

"Dad?" she asked. "Who...who are you talking to?"

She looked around. Her four surrounding inhabitants seemed lost on the Raichu. Instead, Argon's eyes fluctuated between her own paws, the room's icy walls, and the ghostly mirage before her. After a moment of foggy gears turning, shock enveloped her consciousness, before falling to resignation.

"So, I evolved...can't say I expected that. I-Is this where I think it is? Don't tell me you've kicked the bucket too."

"Wait," Chimera said, "you think you're—"

The Bagon jumped up, realization hitting him in the face.

"Uxie!" he yelled. "C-Can't you go into her mind or something? Make her stop seeing...that?"

The knowledge pokemon frowned in empathy, but he shook his head.

"It's a natural process, common during a near-death experience. I'd rather not risk tampering with her conscious. She's strong, though, I have no doubt her mind will work past the delirium."

The Bagon growled. He crawled over from Argon's side, putting himself directly before her face.

"Argon, listen to me. You're not dead, and this isn't heaven. I'm probably the best sign of that; you won't find a 'mon like me when he's six feet under anywhere but the other end."

She had to blink a couple times in tentative silence, but eventually Argon nodded. In spite of this, her expression was the slightest bit incredulous, mind blanking toward the strange Bagon and Charmander who were so close.

"I am unaware of the family you speak of," Eoin said, "but I can assure you your father is not the only one who has had an impact on another pokemon's life."

"He's right," Chimera said, "you've been my guide and companion ever since I washed up on the other side of the ice. No need to wait for someone who you mean the world to, you've already found it."

Slowly but surely, it started coming back. The Ninetales faded from existence, its spirit being replaced by memories of the pokemon that surrounded her. Most of the numbness encompassing her body dissipated, giving her hands some feeling of tactility. She turned to Chimera, then to the lake guardians, then to the Pallid embracing her. Rapid blinks finally removed the fog frozen over the Raichu's mind. Her eyes shot open.

"W-Wait, I'm not...E-Eoin? You're grey, I thought you always dyed your scales."

Relieved sighs shook the mountain stone, while Argon hid her inward cringe with a chuckle. She turned away from the Pallid, but for recovery's sake they kept the embrace. After a moment of silence, Eoin felt a paw reach around his neck, accompanied by a scratching sensation that filled both sides of his conscious with euphoria.

"I-I'm sorry you all had to see that," Argon said, turning to Chimera with a beaming smile. "It's just...it was like my life flashed over when you were dragging me up the stairs. My early childhood, my family home, it all seemed so real, and after a while I guess my mind just couldn't tell what wasn't real anymore."

"You had me worried there," Chimera said, returning the gesture, "but I knew you'd pull through. You're not a pokemon to take the easy way out."

Arceus knew she appreciated the compliment, but it took all of Argon's willpower to keep from scoffing.

"I... I hope that ends up being true."

She turned to Eoin, separating from the Charmander for a brief second as she attempted to stand. Unfortunately, attempted was the key word. Surrounding smiles disintegrated, eyes watching as the Raichu's limbs refused her command.

"Wait...oh god. Please, no. Don't tell me it's permanent." Chimera moaned.

Argon grabbed her legs inquisitively, giving the frigid appendages a testing shake. With only a hint of tangibility going to her brain, she shrugged.

"I-I'm not sure. It's like they're asleep, I guess it's one of the side effects of the cold. Oh well."

Silence overtook the cavern. Argon glanced around to the various gloomy faces locked toward her. She could only hope her presence wouldn't continue being such a mood killer.

"I should have been there for you," Eoin whimpered, "if I had been with both of you earlier, I might have been able to prevent this from happening. Now you could very well have to deal with this fear for the rest of your life."

Azelf turned away. For perhaps the first time since their reunion, Koios could see guilt overtaking his face.

I apologise. I was the architect of your team's separation; I never intended on something like this happening.

Argon's only gestured nonchalantly. Befuddlement filled the room, but the Raichu's blank look prevailed.

"No worries, I made my choice my coming here. Exploring, having a chance to make something out of my miserable life...it's a sacrifice I've got to accept. Besides, it kinda runs in the family, only right that I find a way to live with it."

Her words did little to stop infectious guilt from enveloping the Bagon. She put her hand on Chimera's shoulder, his own expression revealing enough grief to rival the rest of the room.

"This isn't on you, Chimera. I-I'm still not entirely sure if your comment about me finding a pokemon that I mean something to is accurate, but...just know that the feeling's mutual."

As much as he nodded, Chimera had a hard time believing that. His aspiration had brought them there, and he doubted that boded well for being regarded as someone a pokemon could care about. Still, he knew enough about Argon to trust her judgement, and it was better to snip remorse in the bud before it could spread to others. The Bagon's tears subsided, while a toothy grin slowly made its way back onto Chimera's face.

Silence doing little to belay anxious stares, Argon again looked down to her feet. After a moment's consideration, her gaze shifted, centered now on the oversized tail loosely dragging across the floor after being untied from her back. With little other means of locomotion, Argon placed herself under the yellow platform. Electric strain filled her mind as heavily as usual, but beggars couldn't be choosers. She turned to the others, letting out a hefty sigh.

"I-I guess it's better late than never that I actually figure out how to do this consistently. S-Should we get going? We still have a glider to catch to get down the mountain."

Chimera winced. He knew well enough how strenuous it must be being forced to rely on such a rarely used skill, but like his partner said, they really didn't have many better options. Resolution filled his conscious, a promise being made that the disability that had invaded Argon's legs would not be permanent.

"We'll be able to teleport the three of you to the dungeon's border," Koios stated, "once you cross that threshold, Azelf shouldn't need to shield Eoin from the time gear any longer."

Once that's completed, I guess we'll go to the god's doorstep and settle this once and for all. Best of luck.

Settle what? Shielding? The Bagon's head tilted. Her turned to Eoin, eyes centered on the glowing blue gear poking out of the Charmander's bag.

"Eoin, while we're here...what exactly are your intentions with that time gear?"

"You can count your mission as a success," the Pallid replied, "I only ask you both accompany me on a mission of my own before you decide it is worth handing it over."

A more complete answer could have made Chimera's frown slightly less challenging, but resolution fell between the two lizards that now wasn't the time or place. Three sets of eyes looked upon the lake guardians.

"If that's settled, then I guess there's no time like the present. I'll be happy to put a couple dozen miles in between me and this ice cream flavored hellhole."

You know what...you and me both.

The three gems emblazoned on Koios and Azelf flared. Eoin gave on last glance to the entourage of grey statues populating the mountain. The Charmander's own fire flared in resolution.

"Until we meet again," Eoin said, "with any luck, at least some of the damage done today will be healed."

Light flashed over the trio's eyes, and hands placed themselves on their shoulders. Looking between Argon, the pallids, and his own differing brother, Koios couldn't help but agree.

---​

Having left the borders of the mystery dungeon, Articuno had been kind enough to subside her chilling bite to a slight nibble. After hours spent wandering down from the mountain peak, Argon, Eoin, and Chimera had based themselves in a deep alcove bordering the frozen lake of their origins. The former of the trio lay tucked in the deepest end of the recess, resting and preserving body heat. The latter sat at the base, eyes drooping scanning for the return of the promised aircraft.

"You just had to pick grass, didn't you?" Chimera grumbled. "Why? It's the game equivalent of paper, you should have known that. And now you're stuck with the first shift. Ugh…"

He let out a deep sigh. Chimera rarely had any better luck when playing rock-paper-scissors, but he couldn't let the isolation cloud his thoughts. No use grumbling on some meaningless, petty crap. Not in a place so treacherous, and not with a partner in such a precarious state. Putting his own life on the line to make way for his destiny was child's play. Someone else's? Someone who had been his confidant from the beginning, that was another story. Chimera could only hope for some source of levity to break up the cruel combination of monotony and culpability.

As the hours passed, his eyes began to wander. The cold at least numbed any pain not alrighty subsided from his paralyzed limbs, and any blood coagulated around them had washed off. If the Bagon looked closely through the howling wind, he could have sworn he saw the vague outline of someone darting to and fro in the distance.

"Hey! Anyone out there? You won't last long if you're caught out here without any shelter!"

No response. The figure darted off without a word; for all the Bagon knew, it could have been his own mind playing tricks on him.

His boredom wouldn't last. After a couple minutes, a flash of light shot out from above. He shielded his eyes as a burst of red lightning shot out to the ground, with a booming crack to boot. He could only hope it didn't wake up the others.

"Hark, thy present self! What is the date?"

When the flash ended, and Chimera looked upon the pokemon before him, his head tilted. Against the dull snowdrift that coated both of their blue scales was a Salamence, donning bright red wings that dwarfed him in height. Overtop the Salamence's back lay a dark, jagged cape. It fluttered in the wind, shadowing an amalgamation of wood and steel mounted to its back that Chimera could only describe as an enormous ballista. The centerpiece of the Salamence's attire, however, lay atop its head, in the form of a jade-gemmed crown of solid gold.

"W-What the hell. Who are you? As for the date, uh…"

"Forsooth," the Salamence exclaimed, giving Chimera a miniscule wink, "I did not presume my blood would be so unaware of his fate. How could you not recognize your own anatomy?"

Without a second of thought, Chimera hobbled towards the Salamence. He shot his good hand out, though it only went to the border of the strange dragon before being stopped by a skin-like surface. He yelped.

"Sorry...force of habit."

The test went against his initial theory, though it wouldn't be the first time he had been fooled. Its voice also wasn't what he expected, having a low tone he heard daily, yet was foreign to anyone else he knew. Chimera closed his eyes, and he began doing the math. It would take a little while to see if the timeline of such theory corroborated with the Salamence before him. Until then, he'd see where it went.

"Ok then. Tell me, oh great traveler," Chimera exclaimed, jumping to his feet, "who are you, and why have you traveled so far to seek audience with pokemon such as us?"

He winked back, curious if somewhere among the snow, another being was smiling just as much as he was.

"The tapestry of mine may run longer, but our lives begun concurrently," the Salamence boasted. "I am the face that stares back at you the mirror, the shadow that follows you among the jungle brush, deny it all you want, Chimera, but I am—"

"You," he finished, expression unmoving from deadpan smirk. "Or me, more specifically. From the future, I presume?"

The Salamence nodded. It walked up to Chimera, holding its front leg in an unusually familiar gesture. His eyes squinted at the appendage; just how many pokemon on Faire knew? Nonetheless, light seemed to brighten under both, illuminating the scene with an aura ripe for drama.

"Correct, comrade. As it was foretold, the forests have conspired against us! It will not be long before their limbs of destruction march on our estate, and destroy the great empire you will come to inherit."

Chimera concealed a snicker. A voice in the back of his mind suggested that there was a smidge of veracity in the Salamence's words, but for now he was content to play the game. It had been a while since he had donned the role, nothing wrong with giving it a reprise.

"Interesting, interesting," Chimera said, holding a hand to his chin, "and tell me, our great kingdom, you rule it well, correct? A fist of iron, and a willingness to do what needs to be done?"

The Salamence gave a boastful laugh, motioning towards its ornate headgear.

"How could I not? Unfortunately, those below us have orchestrated an uprising against our magnanility, and are marching against us as we speak."

The Salamence's tone grew somber. Grim acceptance flushed over his grin, a contrast to the miniscule giggle the Bagon heard from its epicenter. In spite of this, Chimera had no doubt the role was being played well.

"My presence here is unlingering, but before they separate my head from my body, I bring with you a warning. Keep—arghhh!"

The Salamence keeled over, moans painful and lengthy. Over its chest for a thick layer of coagulating blood, as if its chest had been pierced by claws. For a brief second, Chimera's confidence wavered. For all his bravado, the Bagon couldn't imagine a fate worse than being cut down from greatness at the moment of triumph. He rushed down to the dying Salamence, playing his hands on its body. Again, the sensation of touching actual scales all too similar to his sent a shiver down his spine.

"W-Wait, keep what? What do I have to do for it to not end like this?"

The Salamence's mouth opened, only to let out another painful moan. Immediately, Chimera threw his bag to the floor. He was just about to start digging for what little medical supplies they had left, when its scowl twisted into a grin. Chuckles again sounded from inside the creature, tone soft and lighthearted.

"Keep...keep what you value close to the chest."

The Salamence disappeared. In its place was a familiar pokemon he was tempted to chastise. In hindsight, however, the swears Chimera muttered targeted only his own carelessness. A Zorua stood before him, holding out the Bagon's own golden badge in a gesture of repayment. A glance toward his own exploration bag corroborated that it had been swiped in his distraction.

"Well...we meet again, Cerise. How'd that parole hearing work out?"

The Zorua's face drooped. From Chimera's gesture, they both made their way to the edge of the alcove, providing a respite against adverse conditions. As he retrieved the badge held outward in Cerise's jaw, a shudder ran up her spine. He could only theorize that it wasn't from the cold.

"F-Fine, thanks to you. I'm really sorry about...all that. I'm not petty enough to keep it, I just wanted to find some way to get you back, to prove that I wasn't a complete failure at my craft. But...it was pretty mean-spirited in hindsight."

"Hey, you returned it, at least," Chimera said, meeting her melancholy with a grin, "consider us even. You really did have me fooled for a moment."

She smiled back, shaking off the snow that had condensed around her red and black fur. Looking over the bag strapped to her body, Chimera spotted a thin square of grey scales. Likely taken from some material for sewing together bags, Cerise seemed prepared for his earlier method of dispelling illusions. With this in mind, the Bagon kept his bag close and a hand to his weapon. He'd be watching her closely.

"Well, the games are still fun," Chimera said, "but I think we need to clear the air. Considering your current...reputation, I'm willing to bet my friends deeper inside this alcove would consider using the 'shoot first, ask questions later, policy'."

Cerise nodded. Her grin fluctuated between smile and cringe at mention of reputation, but what remained was her intense analysis of the Bagon. A question seemed perpetually trapped on the tip of her tongue.

"Y-Yeah, about that. I've stolen my fair sum of change, no use hiding that from you, but...it's all for a purpose. I promise I'm not doing it out of greed, or anything. When half of your life is spent raised under a tycoon and the other is with high level teams, you understand that they can afford to lose some pocket change here and there."

Judging from the collection of instant noodles Chimera knew were stacked in the corner of their apartment, he'd beg to differ. However, knowledge of his team's circumstances painted them as the monetary exception. Under his scrutinous stare, the Zorua seemed genuine; she had already proven herself loyal to a fault.

"And what exactly is that purpose?" he asked, expression neutral. "I've been around here long enough to know that it's quite literally uneconomical going into thievery for chump change. You'd make more money at the theatre. Arceus knows you'd be good at it."

Cerise smirked back at the compliment. After a moment of her eyes drifting toward the endless abyss of snow before them, she mustered the courage to grin back. With the illusions gone, it was all she could do to show Chimera that the thought was mutual.

"Well, you remember when I told you my plans for after I had 'liberated' that gold badge from you? The 'heist of a lifetime' at the guildhall?"

Chimera nodded, a slight sense of nostalgia flowing between them. Monotonous as the old resource missions were, dramaturgy was a hell of a lot more fun than watching your partner nearly freeze to death.

"Well, when I saw you hand over the time gear to my—the WFG executive, I knew I'd need one of your badges if I could swipe it from the guild hall. That's why I came here, actually, besides finding a way to repay that favor we agreed on."

"Oh...that," Chimera said, twiddling with his fingers, "I-uh, haven't actually found something for that yet. I will soon, though. Don't worry."

The Zorua seemed accepting enough. As useful a 'mon with her set of skills might be, debt was a cage in of itself. He knew all too well what its claws felt like.

"After my first breath of fresh air in a month," she continued, "I went on a little walk, always liked watching those wood and canvas birds take off. When I saw the three of you boarding one heading for the east, I figured I finally had a lead on tracking down the other time gear, so I left."

Chimera listened to the tale with interest, though his smile drooped with its conclusion. He'd already have to find a way to pry the gear out of Eoin's hands, the last thing the Bagon wanted was another player to complicate the chess board. He shuffled his weight, subconsciously playing himself between her and the path deeper into the cave.

"And why, pray tell, are you looking for the time gears? Gonna sell them? Make them a nice paperweight?"

"No," she retorted, "it's a...subject of interest for me."

Cerise fumbled a large book out of her bag. In exception to the various playwright scripts copied, one of which Chimera recognized as being awfully familiar, the pages contained an amalgamation of chickenstratch notes and sketches. The pentagonal pattern of the time gear had been inscribed on one, while another contained a map with crude X's and lines connecting locations. On the page her paw stopped at, was a pixie-like pokemon with short wings and a roundhead curving into a single point. Due to its graphite nature, Chimera couldn't tell if it was supposed to be pink or green.

"The clues are there, I tell you," Cerise said, eyes beaming, "time gears aren't my end goal, but all I need is a brief chance to study them. Once I can connect all the dots, they'll lead me to the true tree of life."

Chimera studied the figure. With memories of another world flashing through his mind, it was familiar, as rearing to escape his tongue as whatever Cerise was holding in.

"Damn, what was the name? You mean...Celebi? What does she have to do with this?"

Her head drooped. Seeing this, an entourage of questions nearly escaped Chimera's mouth, but he stayed his tongue. The wind howled as both sat still in recollection. A shift in the snow covered the two in more of Articuno's blanket, and as such Chimera moved back to the deeper recesses of the cavern. Cerise didn't follow, however. Her gaze seemed eternally locked toward a single spot in the jungle canopy below.

"Hey, you alright? I don't doubt the Dread Bandit Cerise can't take a little cold, but I've seen firsthand how much that stuff can mess you up."

Cerise shook her head, call having snapped the Zorua out of her trance. Still, she remained, and with only a second's thought, Chimera wandered back to her side. A thin layer of snowdrift had condensed around her red and black fur. The Bagon held his arm out and, after a gesture of consent from Cerise, wiped the snow off of her fur.

"Have you...have you ever had someone in your life you cared about that left too soon? That you didn't want to say goodbye to?"

Chimera nodded. A faint Togetic seemed to wave to him through the mountain snow, but after a few tentative blinks it disappeared. All that was behind him, and he knew well enough that, just as before, it was only an illusion.

"Of course. Who was yours?"

The Zorua closed her eyes in concentration. After a brief flash of light, a Zoroark stood before them. It held a tender gaze, no doubt born from being seen through the eyes of youth.

"Mom. After she kicked the bucket, Dad kept telling me it was time to move on, that I needed to carry on her legacy by following her dying wish."

She let out a soft, bitter chuckle.

"The two-faced bastard barely even talked to me after her death. After spending so much time absorbed in his 'grand purpose', I didn't expect him to be such a quitter."

The gesture was somewhat awkward, but Chimera comforted the Zorua with his stubby arm as best he could.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I mean...it's a horrible thing dealing with loss, but I suppose there are times were the best thing to do is accept it."

"Please," Cerise retorted, "that's quitter talk, and I'm no quitter. If there really is no way to bring her back, then...I'll accept it, but the clues are there."

She gestured back to the map, letting the Zoroark dissipate into the snow.

"If there's one thing Dad taught me, it's that history and legends are more useful than you might think. Once I analyze the time gears, the dots will lead me to Celebi. If I can bargain with her to use her time traveling abilities, than I just might be able to give my mom the life she deserves."

Her intentions were noble, Chimera couldn't deny that, but he feared the Zorua's end goal was more akin to his namesake. He just had an audience, short as it was, with the closest thing to the gods they could get. The Bagon could only hope Celebi ended up showing more philanthropy that what he had seen.

Nonetheless, Chimera got up to his feet. The weather was picking up, and his shift was almost over. He beckoned Cerise inside, though as he looked over his shoulder, the Zorua was waving for his attention.

"Yeah, what's up?"

Her paws fiddled. If it wasn't so cold, Chimera could probably see the sweat coming off them. In Cerise's eyes was the same analytical stare that had been in the back of the Zorua's conscious. She glanced between him, the weapon at his side, and her own notebook, letting out a tentative sigh.

"I-If you don't mind, I wanted to ask you something. I've kinda had a lot of time to think about this, so I guess there's no better moment than now. A-Are you a—"

"Yes," he deadpanned.

"But how could—"

"I'm honestly not sure either," Chimera responded, "but I'm living with it. I'm more curious how you were able to find out."

Cerise sat for three seconds in blank contemplation, before the reality of the situation hit her. Her face lit up, and without a second's thought she pounced forward, tacking Chimera into the snow. The Bagon was lucky enough to not land on one of his bad limbs, and as such he didn't attempt to resist. He did keep a close hand on his valuables though; best to start taking the Zorua's advice early. Cerise analyzed the Bagon closely, no doubt contemplating what the creature before her had looked like in times past.

"You're not lying, are you? Please tell me you aren't lying."

"Would I have a reason to?" Chimera responded. "When was the last time I lied to you?"

After some contemplation, Cerise conceded that point. A smile flourished between them. She retreated from overtop the Bagon, and after he had gotten up raised a paw up to shake his hand.

"S-Sorry about the rashness, probably shouldn't have pounced on someone with a broken arm. But my parents told me so much about your kind! Your culture, your art, meeting one in person… this must have been what that Grovyle felt like."

Chimera returned the gesture, though he couldn't fully embrace the Zorua's enthusiasm.

"Well, the admiration is mutual, I guess. I've had a hell of a better time here than the human world."

Cerise's smile dampened a slight bit, but remained. After another gust of wind nearly sent both hurtling towards the floor, they made their way back through the cave. With biting wind obstructed, and both free to look at the icicles refracting outside sun, Chimera could think of worse ways for his watch to go.

"Fair warning," he said, turning to Cerise, "if you're gonna be joining our merry band, at least temporarily, make sure you're perfectly honest with the Raichu and Charmander."

"'Course," she replied, "I'm going down the straight and narrow now, no need to steal if I don't have a reason."

Chimera nodded, but made a mental note to keep track of her movements. Eoin still had the time gear, and as much as he put his faith in the would-be thief, it would be better to play it safe.

"Oh, and one other thing," he added, "that Charmander, he's got a...condition. Long story short, he's an intelligent Pallid, but his mind has a habit of occasionally reverting back to a feral. I also haven't exactly given the best first impression. Our initial meeting was...confrontational. If he ends up reverting, be prepared for—"

They rounded the corner. As expected, Argon was lying with her back against the icy wall, Eoin sat on all fours to the floor in a posture both knew well. Their tranquility, however, ended in an instant as the two appeared. The Pallid jumped up. Its dilated, grey pupils shifted in terror between the familiar Bagon before them, and a metallic, blue radiance that stemmed from his exploration bag.

Fear invaded its conscious. Argon attempted to hold the Charmander back, but with a remorseful look in its feral eyes, it turned away and charged. The flame on the Beast's tail flared, determined to protect the purpose of its creation from the sudden intruder.
 
Chapter 22: Reconciliation
Author's Note: Hey All! Apologies for the long delay. I've been getting a little sidetracked with other writing ventures lately, but with any luck I should be able to get back to a relatively consistent update schedule. Thanks for reading, and without further ado, here is the chapter.

---​
All they could do now was wait.

Argon saw the disappointment in her partner's eyes at having lost their game, but he staggered out of the icy cave for his first watch nonetheless. Sitting at the cavernous entrance for their promised extraction would no doubt be a boring venture, but with any luck the Bagon would be able to find solace in this respite. Arceus knew she needed it. Light refracted off the ceiling and against the wall, illuminating their insulated alcove in a vibrant blue hue.

"He saved my life," Argon said, voice refracting against the low ceiling, "i-in more ways than one."

Eoin couldn't help but nod. In spite of their differences, of their butting heads, they had only known each other for days. No use making a lifetime feud over something so petty in hindsight. Eoin hoped the best for the Bagon on his watch. He was flawed; he went about with a philosophy contrasting to his own. However, as the Pallid gazed down to his own thankfully clean claws, a resolution filled his mind that only burying the hatchet would keep them unbloodied. Eoin already had enough enemies, no use in making one more.

That left the two of them. Argon stood with Eoin near the end of their terrestrial shelter. With her legs still unresponsive, she sat on her own levitating tail. Such a method of locomotion worked well, but had an obvious effect on her concentration. Electrons stressed through her body, being denied the method of grounding her tail once provided. As such, the Raichu's expression remained perturbed, as if she was being perpetually asked to solve a complex calculus question. That, however, wasn't what had the grey Charmander worried.

"...You're shivering," Eoin blurted, an inward cringe lamenting his own bluntness.

"Well, not anymore than you," Argon replied. "Are you doing alright? I-uh...bet that it took a lot out of you warming me up."

The Charmander shook his head, but his body betrayed him. As insulated as the cave was, his fire had diminished, and in his recent reversion the Pallid had discarded the thick, wool coat currently donned by the Raichu. With a sigh of relief, Argon sat herself against the back wall of the alcove. After a second's hesitation, she lifted the makeshift blanket in offering, gesturing Eoin forward. The Pallid stood with mouth agape.

"Oh, are you sure that is alright? I am in good condition, I would rather not intrude any boundaries that you—"

"I-It's fine, Eoin," she replied, giving a slight chuckle toward herself. "For all my babbling back there, this whole experience has made me realize something. Life's a short thing; I've already spent a fair amount of it being quiet and standoffish...no time like the present to try something new."

It was a pragmatic gesture, of course. Eoin doubted the Raichu wanted either of them succumbing to hypothermia, but the ember inside the Charmander's chest began to flicker. He couldn't put his claw on it, but from a clinical analysis, Argon and the strange sensation appeared to be intertwined variables. He joined her against the wall. The wool coat made a welcome shield against the cold air, though its singular size required certain accommodations to maximize warmth.

As anxious contentment filled both, Eoin's gaze shifted to the pale, white legs of the pokemon at his side, nearly matching his own in hue. Had the same become himself, the Pallid figured both sides of his conscious would be stricken with terror. And yet, her closed eyes appeared to tell the story of a pokemon without a care in the world.

"Your legs," he uttered, "you have met a terrible fate. Showing such...acceptance, as you sure you are alright?"

"O-Of course," Argon replied, turning away the slightest degree, "it's not that bad...really. I'm sure stuff like this happens all the time to members of the guild. It's just something I gotta get over."

A break in her voice near the end contradicted the Raichu's stoicism. Eoin could see that Argon was lost in thought. She again shook her limbs, their numbness a stark reminder of the divine intervention that wouldn't come. Shivers ran up her spine, turning her sigh into a chitter.

"I'm an explorer," she deadpanned, "was always meant to be. A-And explorers...they're strong. They hold up a smile, even when things don't always work out for the best. I won't get anywhere feeling sorry for myself."

Eoin frowned. He knew the expression dawned on Argon's face well, many a time he had seen it staring back at him in the mirror; the face of a pokemon lying to themselves wasn't the hardest thing to spot. He laid a hand on her back. After sensing no flinch of disapproval, it remained.

"That may be true, but even pokemon with the strongest armor must give themselves a respite. Are you truly unperturbed by this, or are you words simply for my sake?"

She lifted a paw, wiping away some snot from her nose. The Charmander's hand was a comforting presence, but Argon still found herself shirking away from his gaze. Where was the Raichu from the dancefloor? The confident, open, pokemon that wasn't making a fool of herself? The one whose legs could carry her across the floor as though she was floating through air? The same paw lifted to rub her eyes. That Raichu was gone, cutoff below the waist.

"Please, say the word and I will drop the subject," Eoin continued, "but denial is a blight. I would know. It builds up, enveloping your conscious until reality crashes you down to earth. My heart would mourn were the same to happen to you."

A small nod was her only response. Icy numbness had infected more than her limbs, but the Charmander's words were a thawing light in the cold. She was surrounded by friends, and of the two pokemon that had followed her up the mountain, Argon doubted there were any better to let her heart out to.

"F-Fine. I guess...I'm afraid."

A slight shock from Argon's fur woke the Pallid, but he kept the hold nonetheless.

"What am I going to do?" she asked. "I-If they even let me keep my job, no running, no evening walks even. M-My Dad had to relearn how to use the bathroom, for Arceus's sake! Our apartment's on the third floor. I can barely raise a small stone with my mind, there's no way I can consistently lift myself all the way up there."

Eoin listened, holding his tail flame up to offer what little warmth he could. Seeing the downtrodden posture and quivering breaths of Argon was like a gust against his flame. The Pallid's eyes shot open as a single word lingered in his conscious, bringing new light to the Raichu's predicament.

Dad?

"I...do not have any easy answers," Eoin replied, "but in the words of a pokemon who brought me up from one of my darkest moments, I'll try my best to help you, assist you in becoming the pokemon you choose to be."

"I am sure there are ways to adapt," he continued. "In my brief time in town I have come across a couple psychic trainers. What if we were to go there? Perhaps you hold more potential than you think?"

Argon gave a short nod, tears giving a brief respite. Like it or not, she would have to learn, and there were always friends along the way to light the path. She turned to Eoin, eyes beaming as much appreciation as they could muster.

"How do you do it?" she asked. "T-Those things you told me, seeing all the pallids freeze up, finding out that you were basically made to be a battery; how do you keep a straight face enough face to comfort my crying butt after all that?"

Eoin froze at the question, matching Argon's inceduility. Looking back, it had all happened so fast. Actually having enough time to think seemed like a double edged sword.

"I am not sure. After I saw both of you coming up the stairs, I—"

Fleeting memories returned. Motionless, grey faces peered into his conscious. He gestured to cover his ears, but that didn't make the accusations any less loud. His smile faded, leaving only stark hollowness.

"Their terrible fate was my doing, just like yours is now. I...I brought you on this venture, yet you still hold me in high regard. Arceus above, I doubt I deserve such companionship."

His head lowered, Argon taking up the Pallid's former reassuring glance. In spite of the circumstances, the Raichu held a smile. Condensation left her mouth with a bitter chuckle, eyes closed and looking inward.

"Like I said, this isn't on you. I-It's funny in a way, though, isn't it? I guess we both think we let each other down."

"What do you mean?" Eoin asked.

The Raichu needed a moment to parse that, herself. She leaned her head against the wall, letting the static from her cheeks flow into the wall behind. The chuckling stopped, replaced by a soreful snort.

"It's just, you're blaming yourself for me being like this. I'm blaming myself for you feeling like crap because of me. T-This can't be good for either of us. Would you mind if you and I could just...put this behind us? Call it even? I don't blame you for a second."

After a second's hesitation, Eoin nodded. For what counselling he had offered, the Pallid had forgoed heeding his own advice. The two of them had a long journey ahead, but looking toward the Raichu at his side, a resolution fell between both that there was less to be afraid of than they thought.

"You know," Eoin said, stifling a snicker, "right before I went up to you during the party, I must have practiced my introduction in front of a mirror two dozen times. Could never get it right. Too many stutters, a smile that was more awkward than inviting... my greatest fear was that you would pick up on my underdeveloped mind's ignorance."

"Y-You could have fooled me," Argon said, head tilting, "you've shown more confidence in one month than I have in a lifetime. I admire that. I really do."

Something seemed to shift between the two. Alone, letting everything out with no pressing goal or need for survival, they finally had room to breath. In the chilling silence, both realized just how close each other's breaths were.

"I still question why, but know the feeling is mutual. My mind...it is as untried as a child's, though my body is not. I required a defense against my own inexperience. Do you know how confusing it is first seeing a pokemon trade perfectly good food for a metal disk?"

"But you learned," Argon replied, "you're a leader, aren't you? There are pokemon that put their faith in you, that's gotta mean you're on the right path."

Eoin gestured in concession, but pushed away thoughts of what lie ahead. She would know, they both would, but now was the time for rest. His chest was still fluttering, tail flame still dancing from the strange, sweet sensation that jumbled his thoughts more than the concept of currency ever would. He looked around, grey eyes scanning for the malicious source that had muddled what seemed right and wrong. It was soft, euphoric, and terrifyingly close.

"I now understand that concept. There is...another, whose navigation continues to elude me. So many interactions, so many tonalities I have yet to learn. I confess, many times I took to the written word, in an attempt to parse exactly how I should be acting."

The word was unsaid, and a part of the Raichu's mind debated whether it should stay that way. In her very brief time amongst the Charmander, there was no doubt in her mind she appreciated his presence, in one form or another. Still, how long had Argon known the Pallid? Two days? Three, if she stretched it? There was only one other being in the alcove who could match Eoin's inexperience, and she knew well enough the perils of unpractised pairs rushing through mystery dungeons. Nevertheless, excessive hesitation was its own extreme; there couldn't be too much harm in testing the waters.

"I-If you don't mind me asking, what sort of books did you read?"

Eoin cringed. He expected the question, but that did not make it any less revealing.

"Make no mistake, it is nowhere near my most read subject, but if I remember correctly, the last novel I read was titled… More Than Using 'Attract': A Luvdisc's Guide to Understanding Intimate Relation, Second Edition."

Argon's hold around the Charmander loosened as she felt him dig his back into the icy wall. A different kind of fear pervaded his expression, one that made him feel smaller by the second. She knew it well. It spread to her own smile, mixing in with a self-deprecating chuckle; misery loved company.

"P-Please do not misinterpret, my mind was clueless to the finer parts of social interaction, and it appeared like a useful resource to—"

"The one with that really gushy short story in the middle?" she interjected, "with the stoic snivy and energetic fennekin?"

Eoin jumped, blubbering put to a temporary halt.

"Yes...the very same. How did you—"

Argon's pensive grin clicked it all into place. He stared toward her, a second incredulous, than another reciprocating the gesture.

"L-Let's just say you're not the only clueless 'mon with a bleeding heart and a bad habit of staying inside."

Silence filled the cavern. There was so much about the other they didn't know, and so little time. Eoin slapped his forehead. What was the proper thing to do now? Stay silent? Vomit out all the muddled thoughts in his conscious? Recite a sappy line from the book? By Arceus, he couldn't even remember any.

"Eoin, a-are you alright? You seem...tense."

The Pallid jumped. Adrenaline coursed through his spine. She was watching, she had to be. Expectations were put upon him, and he was failing every single one. And yet, looking into the Raichu's eyes, Eoin found little judgement. Her paws fidgeted. Her smile so endearing and yet fragile enough that a soft breeze could knock over her posture.

There couldn't be any harm in waiting, could there? There was still planning to be done once they got off this icy hellhole. Once the dark business had been dealt with, once they had lived through the perilous danger of it all and the Pallid could finally settle down into a life not plagued by the horrors of injustice.

But what if you don't?

Eoin grunted in realization. The foe they faced, the resources they could muster, it was nothing to sneeze at. Even if by some stroke of the gods his plan managed to succeed, there was no guarantee he'd live through it. And what then? Every second spent wondering, every moment guessing and second guessing himself, what would it be worth? He already knew the answer.

"Nothing."

A paw made its way around the back of his neck. Eoin's head turned, just in time to meet Argon's. Brief sparks emanated from her cheeks, lighting up their dark confines in ways that the Charmander's own grey flame couldn't. In spite of nervous breaths and hesitant blinks, her expression conveyed what understanding it could.

"I-I'm here for you, Eoin, just like you were there for me. Is there something bothering you? You look like you have something to say."

Eoin's tale flickered. His mouth opened, letting out a brief ember, but little else. Grey eyes closed in resolution. There was no time left for hesitation. She was waiting for something, she had to be! With every second of silence, the Pallid knew he was making a fool out of himself. Objections raised into his conscious, but they fell on deaf ears. With a mind so clouded in ignorance, he wasn't about to let this opportunity go to waste.

He kissed her. Eoin's face shot forward, nearly knocking the Raichu off balance as he placed his hands around her cheeks. Shock reverberated through both. Argon's eyes shot open, staying that way for several seconds before lulling into their normal posture. A yelp escaped her closed mouth, tone conveying the confusion that ran between them.

Shivers ran up Eoin's spine. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. The moment dragged on like eons, Argon's lips terrifyingly unmoving. This wasn't like the books at all. Or perhaps it was, and the Pallid had been too much of a fool to heed their warning. The Charmander trembled. Had his callow mind really deluded itself into thinking that such a rash, unconsented, gesture wouldn't ruin what little friendship he had been lucky enough to establish?

He laid his hand from her cheeks, letting them fall to the floor. The Pallid was just about to break their hold and let loose a stream of apologies when something changed. It was tentative, as unsure as his own quivering flame, but Argon pushed back, lips conforming to match the Charmander's.

It was Eoin's turn for his eyes to shoot open. A part of the Charmander hadn't expected to get this far. Not a word needed to be said in between blue and grey irises to affirm that both were equally bewildered. It truly was nothing like his research suggested, but that was no surprise; the Pallid always seemed to be lacking in practical experience.

For a couple more long seconds they kept the embrace. Their heads tilted to and fro, resorting to experimentation in lieu of either knowing how foreign maws were intended to fit. The occasional sparks that zapped Eoin's tongue were an annoyance, but he ignored them as well as Argon ignored the cinders that stung her own mouth. Once adrenaline had lulled, Argon slowly raised a paw to Eoin's chest, pressing the two of them apart as gently as she could manage. Eoin took the gesture well. As relieving as the kiss was, his rashness had already cost him, and pushing her was the last thing he wanted. Their backs returned to the icy wall, crackling of a gray flame entirely insufficient to break up resulting silence.

"I...I-uh—"

His mouth retreated shut. Argon similarly attempted forming a cognizant sentence, but found that the air in her throat had already been sucked away. There was so much to say, and yet no way to say it. The feeling of lightness in their chests hadn't faded, as enduring as the ever present question of what to do once the Bagon returned, and life went on. After more than a few moments of silence, both pokemon turned to each other, air finally returning to their lungs.

"I should not have done that," Eoin whimpered, "I did not consider your feelings, nor the possibility that you would not approve. It will not happen again."

"N-No," Argon replied, hastily reaching a paw to the back of her neck, "I mean, I would have prefered it if you had asked first, but I understand. I enjoyed it, it was just very...sudden, is how I'd put it."

Eoin sighed in relief. The Raichu was forgiving, more so than he likely deserved, and he couldn't stomach the possibility of his own actions making any of their future interactions irreparably awkward. In a way, however, the most difficult part still lay before them.

"Thank you, so much. I-I...I like you, Argon. You have introduced me to a world I could never have imagined, and your presence has made my life all the more brighter."

The Raichu shirked back, before returning Eoin's smile as best she could. A quiet Pichu cowering under her blanket would have likely killed for a moment like this, and yet there were still nagging questions that interspersed her tranquil euphoria.

"And I like you too, Eoin, if my shy butt hasn't already given that away. I probably wouldn't even be here right now if I hadn't met you below that cave. I'd be glad to start something if you'd want the same, but this whole thing is moving a little...fast, wouldn't you say?"

Eoin begrudgingly agreed. It was the price he paid for the mission, a precarious balancing act that the Pallid now realized he had to play.

"P-Please don't take this the wrong way, but you're still kinda a mystery to me. Your hobbies, beliefs, even what that group you're leading is all about. We still have a lot to learn about each other, no need to rush through it."

Of course. Argon was more than likely warranted in her concern, and the Pallid's discreteness had no doubt cost him. Still, they were alone; no time like the present to start rectifying that.

"True, true...someday, once we get down from here, and I show you the reason for our cause, would you care for us to go on a night out?" Eoin replied, flashing the best smile he could. "Watch the stars, go out to eat? Apparently many aspiring couples find those to be prudent activities."

The Raich's expression was likely the brightest he'd seen since the start of their perilous quest. Her posture loosened, grin all too like his own beaming back.

"Nothing would make me happier."

Euphoria flooded Eoin's conscious, only to be struck down by a familiar pressing sensation. The Pallid grunted in realization. The usual pain was still absent, but it was much heavier than inside the mountain, and it didn't take him much thought to understand why. His eyes began to taper, grey scales trembling and fire flushing like a bunsen burner.

"A-Are you alright?" Argon asked, likewise frozen from again seeing the process. "It's happening again, isn't it?"

Eoin slowly nodded.

"I made a promise, and I am a 'mon of my word, even when it is to myself. I concede that the past few moments have been...overwhelming, I suppose it is only right that it happens now. That leaves only one problem."

Faint footsteps echoed out through the cavernous ceilings. Argon cursed. The Bagon's shift was done, but his timing couldn't have been worse. She turned to Eoin, thankful to see that the Pallid hadn't devolved into his other persona just yet.

"I-I guess...no better time than now to get you used to being around other pokemon. We would've run out of stun seeds sooner or later."

"Indeed," Eoin replied, casting a nervous glance to the blue radiance emanating from his own satchel, "I take it the Beast has not had the opportunity to reconcile with Chimera as I have. I recall the anger...the fear well. The two of you will need to be cautious."

The footsteps grew louder. With a hefty sigh, Argon put on her best smile. Like Eoin had said, the pokemon walking down the alcove certainly had a rougher introduction with the Pallid than her, but with caution, and some pre-established trust, perhaps this would be an opportunity, rather than a curse?

Eoin's hand shot to his forehead. His growls turned to chitters, a shared glance between Charmander and Raichu confirming that the inevitable was upon them.

"I prefer to think I have become a forgiving pokemon, but make no mistake, Beast, if you so much as lay a claw on that Raichu...for the safety of all, I will seal both our fates."

"Eoin, I'm I-I'm not sure that's the—"

Her objections fell on feral ears. The footsteps around the icy corner reached their apogee, but in their frequency a realization dawned on Argon. It...wasn't just one. Who else had the time or reasoning to mount an expedition to this gods-forsaken mountain?

The answer came soon enough. Her partner hobbled through first, accompanied by a Zorua barely recognizable in her brief recollection of the past month. What did he say her name was? Cera? Czarise? It didn't matter now. The Raichu knew who she was, and what the Zorua had attempted. Unfortunately, that wasn't the worst of their problem.

"If he ends up reverting, be prepared for—"

Argon lurched over, placing her hand on the Pallid's neck. After a few tentative blinks of its dilated pupils, it looked around, centering its vision on the Raichu with an appreciative smile. The peace that had undertook its expression in the broom closet, however, was absent. It looked down, uttering a startled growl at the glowing blue gear shining through its own pack. Another second, and its vision shifted to Chimera.

"Eoin," Argon uttered, "i-if you're still in there, you can trust us, all of us. Please...don't do anything rash."

The Charmander trembled in Chimera's passive glare. Its head shifted between Argon, Chimera, and the time gear in its possession, calculations of what to do short circuiting any action into suspension. The Bagon's hands raised. He looked over to Cerise, finding that the Zorua had already bared her claws. A miniscule nudge from her toward Chimera suggested a preemptive strike, but she followed his inaction.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Chimera said, "at least, not unless you force me to. Hell, I'm torn to **** and got two broken limbs. I'm not about to start a fight I can't finish."

The Pallid was unconvinced. It sat boxed in, a comforting presence on one side holding its hand, two potential threats on the other. And at its side, glowing vibrant blue, the sole purpose of creation, the artifact that millennia-long instincts had ingrained into the Beast to protect at all costs. The aggressively stanced Zorua was an outlier, but it knew the Bagon well, knew his goal, and knew the potential for pain it held within it. The Charmander cast one last glance to Argon, speaking to her as best it could in a soft growl, before snapping her hand away.

It charged. Chimera's hand lowered to his crossbow, but his other shot in front of Cerise, waving away the small ball of dark energy the Zorua had began to charge. Argon attempted to follow, but cursed as her legs proved continuously uncooperative. Grey cinders fell from the Pallid's mouth as it tackled the Bagon to the floor. His hands raised, expecting it to mount him and unleash either a barrage of claws or flames, but no such thing happened. Instead, it continued running, giving one last glance to Argon as it made a beeline for the alcove exit.

"D-Dammit," Chimera groaned, "we have to stop him!"

Cerise nodded. Her eyes closed, and the exit just three feet before the Pallid was enveloped in light. A second later, no exit existed, replaced by a wall of solid ice. The Charmander growled, head cocking in confusion.

"I don't know the full story behind your friend here, or why he's got an Arceus-forsaken time gear," Cerise said, "but I've...I've seen what these things can do. My advice? Take it down before it hurts anyone else."

The Pallids head was on a swivel. Its tail blared, a stream of flames streaking across the icy floor between itself and the three others. Another tentative step forward from Chimera brought another warning shot, before its head turned back to the wall. After a moment's consideration attempting to comprehend the new development, it bolted to the wall, expecting either a burst of blunt trauma, or escape.

"Wait!" Argon shouted. "Don't—"

Its body made contact with the false wall, destroying it in another burst of light. Free, feeling the chilling air against its scales, and more than a little confused, the Pallid ran, intent on putting as much distance as possible between itself and the two unknowns.

Cerise slammed her paw to the floor. Chimera made a similar movement, glancing between Raichu and Zorua for a call to action.

"We have to go after him."

"O-Of course," Argon replied, "I should be the one to go, I'm pretty sure he'll be the calmest around me."

Her gaze drew to Cerise, narrowed eyes shifting between her and the Charmander getting progressively smaller in the snowy outline. The Raichu's mouth opened to raise questions and objections to the Zorua's presence, but given the circumstances, all three concluded that getting the Charmander and time gear back took precedence.

"I'm not sure that's possible," Chimera replied, gaze lowering to the white-tinted legs of his partner, "you're a lot less likely to piss him off, but you can't run. I should be the one to do it."

"I'm...not sure you can run either," Cerise said, gesturing toward the Bagon's own broken leg.

Chimera sighed. He turned toward the Charmander, using the limb for support as he ambled through the snow. A grunt of pain followed every other step, but the Bagon persisted.

"No," he said, glancing back at Argon, "but I can walk, and there's a lot less long-term harm in putting pressure on my own legs than yours. Besides, those birds might get back here any minute, we need someone to stay back and tell them we're here if they arrive."

"I'll go with him," Cerise offered, "I know you-uh...don't exactly have much reason to trust me, but I want to get that Charmander back here as much as you do."

Bagon and Zorua shared a glance. Chimera knew her ulterior motive, knew that the Pallid, and by extension the time gear getting away would deny her prize she was seeking, but he couldn't deny the same reasoning applied to him. They turned to Argon. The Raichu was scowling, more to herself than anyone, but after a few seconds she nodded. Any more time spent deliberating was another second for her new-found partner to get away.

"F-Fine, but whatever you do, try not to hurt him," Argon said, turning to point to Cerise, "I understand that it's hard to see that now, but he's not like the others, and you can consider any trust between us void if I find out you attacked him unprovoked."

The Zorua bit her lip at the warning, but she nodded. They turned away, feet carrying them toward the Charmander now a hundred yards out.

"Chimera, one last thing!"

The Bagon turned back toward his partner, nodding to go on.

"I know why you're going after Eoin without me, b-but...is that the only reason?"

His head shook, drawing a look of curiosity from Cerise. Memories flashed through his conscious, of underwater tunnels, and of bitter wounds taken and dealt.

"I gotta set this right. I'm sure Eoin's instincts didn't help, but he's shown well enough I'm part of why he's so antsy. If I can make some sort of peace with him like you have, then who knows? The dude might not need to shove a stun seed in his mouth whenever he's around other sentient 'mons."

A nod between partners signalled for Bagon and Zorua to carry on. The visibility-impairing snowstorm had subsided, and as they took chase, the Palid gave more than a few nervous yelps glancing over its shoulder. A few minutes of jogging, and the alcove was out of sight, replaced by winding ranges of stone and snow.

"I don't understand," Cerise said between winded huffs, "it should've attacked us, it's not in its nature to do anything else but attack us. What exactly happened to your friend?"

"I'll go over the nitty-gritty details once we got time, but their nature is to protect the time gear," Chimera replied, "at least, that's what Eoin told me. Attacking is only a part of it. Now that he's the last line of defense against the likes of us, I'm willing to bet his mind thought the best thing to do was run. Pretty frickin' inconvenient when you gotta march through knee-deep snow with a paralyzed leg, but we'll roll with the punches."

'The likes of us.' Cerise chuckled. The gesture brought an inquisitive look from the Bagon, one that saw her head droop and her feet paw at the ground.

"Please," she said, "I got to clear this up. I'm not here to steal that gear, just to...examine it. The clues are there, once I sketch them down, you can flush it down a toilet for all I care. You can trust me on this."

For a second, Chimera simply mulled over the statement, before providing a tentative nod. Neither were naive enough to consider it binding, but they'd cross that bridge when they came to it. The rocky wall to their sides disappeared as time went on, turning the ground beneath their feet into a precarious platform, with sheer falls on either side of its winding path that half of the Bagon's brain felt particularly opposed to. The Charmander was still barely within sight, and as they treaded carefully Chimera couldn't help but let a chuckle escape his own mouth.

"You should have seen the crap we had to go through getting the first one. Imagine a time gear, sitting on a pedestal with a weighted pressure plate. I go to swap it with bag of equal weight, and the next thing I know the whole tunnels coming down and a giant golem is rolling down the tunnel trying to squash little o'll me."

His hand raised, concealing a snicker. A look towards Cerise found her in similar disposition. It was nice, enjoying some levity with the Zorua in the moments before facing his own failure. The question was, how much of her knowing smile was a bluff?

"What Uxie hadn't counted on was my forehead being thick enough to reduce both the golem and the stupidly-intricate system of spear traps he had established into bits."

"The fool must've counted on any pokemon with a brain matter to body ratio better than a cranidos staying away from the gears," Cerise replied, a self-deprecating grin spreading to both. "Guess he was right in the end about both of us."

The Zorua closed her eyes. A second flash of light, and before the duo stood a dozen gears, each varying sizes, materials, and levels of ornate carving. A single platform stood in the center, accompanied by two pokemon. One, a vibrant pink and white, with three gems that match its siblings. The other, a dead ringer for the Zorua at Chimera's side, fur coated in dirt and mud in place of present snow.

"Me? I've got my own stories. Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction."

"Choose wisely, Cerise" the false Mespirit spoke, "for the true path will let you reverse the deaths of those you love, while the false one will only take your own away."

The illusionary Zorua laid a hand to her chin, before settling on one of the gears and placing it before the center platform. Chimera's eyes shot open at the familiarity of the scene. He turned to the real Cerise, disposition that of a noble guardian, older than time and charged with the duty of protecting the object. He didn't need to dive further into memory for inspiration; a fitting example was only a hundred meters ahead.

"Did you choose...poorly?"

A few seconds too many of silence passed as the illusions faded into nothingness. Chimera expected her to join in his barely concealed grin, but Cerise's mask had broken into introspective blankness. It reformed in an instant, her head raising from the ground to portray the utmost confidence.

"I-I sure hope not."

The panicked growls of the Beast grew ever closer. Its reasoning became clear as the duo finally approached the Charmander. Cliffside hills had given way to a single, protruding precipice, overlooking knee-high water half melted in the evening sun. Chimera and Cerise stood twenty meters before the Beast. Terror overtook its eyes staring between them and the two-story drop at its back. It was boxed in. Nowhere left to run; only one option left.

"For god's sake, Eoin," Chimera shouted, "we're not going to hurt you. We're all going to freeze to death if we stay out here any longer, and I don't think any of us want to put up with this!"

A grey stream of fire shot into the air, accompanied by a hasty snarl. Bagon and Zorua flinched from the warning shot, but their position remained. A step forward from Chimera saw a step back from the Charmander, now barely a foot from the precipice. It glanced over its shoulder. A small lake stared back at it from twenty feet down, not nearly deep enough to cushion a fall, plenty deep enough to fill the Pallid's mind with painful memories.

"Chimera," Cerise asked, "I'm staying true to my word that I didn't come here to steal it, but...is this really the most qualified pokemon to protect the time gear?"

The Beast glanced between Chimera and its own satchel. If memory served, a terrible fate awaited itself once the Bagon had what he wanted. Still, he hadn't attacked yet, perhaps buying time as he and the Zorua cut off its only escape route.

"He...gets better," Chimera replied, a hint of irony following, "smarter, at least. Not exactly the best 'mon if you're looking for impersonal debate, though. But hey, pot meet kettle, amiright?"

Chimera's eyes again locked with the Beast's, startling it to attention. They then shifted to the time gear as calculations ran through the Bagon's mind. It was his objective, after all. Hours spent trudging through freezing snow, nearly dying from a raging, pallid Rampardos, having to watch as his own partner nearly met the same fate, what was it all for? The answer was clear enough, as well as the obstacle standing in its place. Would it be worth prying the fruits of their labor from Eoin's hands while he was in this state? As defensive as it was, this was in all likelihood the most vulnerable the Charmander would get, not to mention the scenario where he could most justify why he took it. A grab here, a spin of the tale to Argon and Eoin once he reverted that taking it was the only way to calm his alter-ego down, and he might be able to go back to the guild with something to show for it.

But, what would that make him? Exactly who the Beast thought he was, exactly the type of pokemon that had made its first action upon gaining control a panicked retreat. Chimera's hand raised to his chin, drawing a curious look from Cerise as he weighed the costs and benefits.

Another step forward for him, another step back from the Palllid, it's own grey tail knocking a small pebble over the edge. The Bagon's glance toward the blue radiance emanating from its satchel did not go unnoticed, grey eyes unable to see the conflict hidden under the Bagon's passive scowl. Any closer, and the intruder would be within grabbing distance of the shining gear. Quivering lips shot out one last cry, before the Beast turned away from Bagon and Zorua, bolting for cliff's edge; desperate times calling for desperate measures.

"Eoin? What are you—"

Its legs met open air. The Pallid closed its eyes, cringing preemptively for the rush of pain that it knew would greet it once it met the bottom. Chimera and Cerise jumped to attention. Both tried lunging for the Charmander's leg, but it was a worthless effort. The Pallid screamed. Familiar cries of agony rippled through the mountain as its body hit the ice with a crunch. The two ran to the cliff's edge, silence being all that was necessary to convey the horror that ran between them.

"A-Arceus," Cerise cried out, "that Pallids crazier than I thought."

Chimera gave a solemn nod, accompanied by the familiar sensation of feeling like utter ****. The Beast's cries carried up from the lake's bottom, moans mixing in with shivering. As a whole, its landing had been well judged. Most of its scales were only moderately bruised from the two-story fall, with one exception. From the half-frozen top layer of water, the Pallid was unable to judge how easily it would break. With concerted effort, it raised its tail, revealing a narrow, shard of ice jutting out of the lake that had pierced straight through. Blood slowly began seeping into the water, dying it a dark red. A glance from Chimera's side revealed that Cerise had turned away, paw to her throat concealing a gag reflex.

"Well, who do you blame?" the Bagon deadpanned. "The damned fool, or the fool who made them a damned fool?"

"I'd still say the damned fool, but you'll have to tell me what I missed that caused...that?"

Chimera gestured in agreement, before pointing his hand at the exploration bag wrapped around the Zorua's midsection.

"Do you have any medical supplies? We-uh, used all of ours on yours truly."

She reached into the bag, handing the Bagon a set of berries and bandages with her muzzle.

"Looking at your friend, I think I might have some tricks that could help calm him down, or at least make him less likely to attack you. But, how are you going to get down there without hurting yourself?"

Realization dawned on the Zorua as soon as the last sentence left her mouth, but that didn't make Chimera's lofty grin any less big.

"I appreciate it. And as for the question...you forgot who you're talking to."

Without a second's hesitation, the Bagon ran to the cliff's edge. Staring towards the ground below, not to mention the fate that had become of the last pokemon that had attempted such a stunt, half of his mind screamed out in objection. He'd heard it all before, however. The euphoria would come, as well as the feeling of dread upon hitting the ground, but if Chimera angled it right, that'd be all he'd have to worry about. After a readying nod from Cerise, he jumped, angling his rocky forehead as a diver would for it to land straight down. After a resounding crack, Chimera dusted himself off at the lake's bottom. A glance around at the shattered ice confirmed that, where the Charmander had been it's victim, he had been the victor.

Bloodied, chilling water, and present Bagon sent shivers up the Pallid's spine. Its own satchel had been knocked from its person in the fall, landing about five feet away at equal distance to Chimera. It tried to stand, attempted to launch another warning volley of grey flames at the Bagon, but the four inch wide shard of ice piercing through its own tail overcame the ability to focus on anything else.

Chimera limped forward. The knee-high chilling water was a familiar sensation, and the Bagon couldn't help but chuckle at the irony.

"Well Eoin, it's time we finish this. Better do it quickly too; we're both gonna share Argon's fate if we stay out here any longer."

The Beast growled, haphazardly lunging its arm for the time gear, only to retreat it as another surge of pain ran up its tail. Neither Bagon nor Zorua needed to speak feral to know what 'stay back' meant. He glanced over his shoulder. From the top of the cliff, Cerise nodded, closing her eyes as several small flashes of light emanated behind large boulders near the left and right of Eoin and Chimera. A second later, and the two pokemon on the frozen lake were joined by an entourage of pallids. An Abamasnow, Avalugg, Absol and Salamence, in pairs of two with equally grey fur and scales flanking them on both sides.

A voice in the Bagon's mind started to panic, but he kept his course. The Pallid chittered, pleading in feral tongue for assistance from the sudden cavalry. The intruder was surrounded, and it wouldn't take more than some ice shards from the surrounding pallids to deter him from the time gear.

That, however, didn't happen. The four remained in place, gazing toward Chimera with nonchalant acceptance. Another look to the Charmander's confused chitters, and it all clicked into place. He quickly glanced back to Cerise, seeing her eyes closed in concentration keeping the four in place. So long as the Beast didn't see through, the Zorua very well might've given Chimera the edge he needed.

For the Pallid, it was a hopeless situation. It clutched its tail, desperately trying to limp away as the introducer approached step by step. Its efforts were in vain. The Charmander turned back, finding the Bagon directly before him, crossbow bolt drawn from his bag shimmering in the sun-refracting ice. Reinforcements unwilling to view the Bagon as a threat, and its own wound taking away all its focus, there was little that could be done. Its eyes closed, resigned to the pain that was to come.

"Bite down."

Five seconds passed. When it became clear that its tail had not been forced into the water, nor the bolt jammed into its thigh, the Pallid's eyes tentatively opened. The crossbow bolt was being held by the intruder horizontally, a similar one clutched in the Bagon's own mouth.

"If you don't want to, that's fine, but you're gonna have to endure some pain if we're going to get you better. I sure as **** know it's easier if you got something to bite down on."

The Pallid chirped in confusion, clutching at the shard of ice impaling its tail. It glanced around, finding its surrounding kin nodding in approval. Befuddled thoughts clashed through its feral mind. Why weren't they attacking? Weren't they just as fearful as he was that the intruder would take the time gear? Chimera laid a hand on its tail, and for another brief second the Beast expected it to be stomped into the chilling water, but instead the Bagon grasped the shard. To the ice at their side were the bandages and berries placed by Chimera. With a tentative growl, the Pallid bit down, mimicking the action Chimera was demonstrating. If its fate had been sealed, the least it could do was delay the inevitable.

"Good, good. If you're still in there, Eoin, get ready...this is gonna hurt you a lot more than its gonna hurt me."

He pulled. The Beast cried out, teeth clenched as the bloodied shard was pulled from its tail. Charmander's tail flickered between torch and candle length. Another stiff tug, and Chimera tossed the intrusion to the side.

"There, was that so hard?"

Chimera reached for the supplies. The Beast stared back at him, eyes conveying a simple question even as an oran berry paste was plastered over the piercing wound and the Bagon wrapped the last bandage over its tail.

Why?

"If you want to hear me say it, Eoin," Chimera said, "I...I'm sorry. I'm sure you've already realized it, but most people around here aren't the type to snuff out your tail like yours truly. The Pallids I've met haven't exactly been too keen on preserving life either, but hey, I'm willing to be the better 'mon. Truce?"

The intruders words were incomprehensible, and yet his actions and expressions had conveyed all it needed to hear. The Pallid gave a tentative flick of its tail, finding the worst of the pain to be over. It'd be sore in the morning, of course, but it could have been a lot worse. Dilated, grey pupils eyed its four surrounding kin to see if the Bagon's actions stood for most pokemon. A smile from Chimera to the Zorua hidden utop the cliff, and the surrounding pallids nodded.

Chimera stood up, placing an arm to balance his still-paralyzed leg after nearly tripping to the ice. Another panicked gasp, though not as prevalent, overtook the Beast as the Bagon walked over to pick up the time gear. There he stood, an inner debate in microcosm going through his consciousness before Chimera walked back and shoved the satchel into the Beast's hands.

"I will say this, though. We all sacrificed a lot getting this thing. S-Some...some more than others. You better have a damn fine reason why you're keeping this from us. Capiche?"

The Beast didn't know itself, but it gave the closest thing it could to a nod. With the worst of the encounter over, Chimera glanced back to the top of the cliff. Cerise was on top, eyes still closed as the illusionary pallids began walking from eyesight. The Bagon conveyed what gratitude he could as the Zorua pointed toward a spot on the cliffside suitable for climbing.

"Well Eoin, shall we-arrgh—"

Chimera tumbled over. He looked to his arm and leg, cursing at the fact they were still in a bum state. There was still a cliff to climb, and a long hike back if they were to regroup at the aircraft. As he went to his knees, however, the Bagon felt an arm make its way over his shoulder. Familiar chirps sounded from the Beast as it offered itself as a balancing point. Even in its limited intelligence, a certain resolution filled the Charmander's mind, one to make things right with the intruder while it still could. A smile from itself to the Bagon was returned in kind.

"A-Alright Eoin," Chimera said, chuckling to himself, "'preciate the help. This'll be a hell of a story to tell once, well...once you can actually talk."

It growled back, tail flickering in approval. Cold water and colder actions aside, Charmander and Bagon had a long road ahead of them. In his limited capacity, the Pallid thought the same as the civil: Perhaps the other wasn't as mindless as initially thought? And as the two regrouped with Cerise and made their way back to the landing site, both could feel bitter memories fading into the snow
 
Chapter 23: Ménage Mirage
For the first time Chimera could remember since the beginning of their exploration, the air had lost its chilling bite.

His eyes opened. After his grogginess cleared and his vision had regained some sense of clarity, the Bagon looked around. Miscellaneous crates of supplies still peppered the cramped insides of the glider, and a glance through one of the porthole windows confirmed they were still in the air. Where snow-lined mountains had been, however, vast canopies of tropical trees took their place. He breathed a sigh of relief. As excruciatingly muggy as Eastern mainland air was, it was a welcome respite in comparison to what they had come from. After today, the Bagon would be more than happy not seeing an inch of snow for the rest of his life.

"I still don't know how in Arceus's name you managed to sleep through that turbulence."

Chimera chuckled. After moving his head from the window it was leaned against, and hastily wiping away the usual stream of drool that had dribbled down his mouth, he turned to the Zorua opposite him. She was scrunched up in a pile, eyes bloodshot, and holding the familiar expression of someone who needed their damn coffee. Where before, however, Cerise had been facing him, she was turned to the front of the craft, facing nothing. Jogging his memory of waking up, the Bagon's head tilted. Had she been mumbling something to herself?

"It's the head and neck muscles, I suppose," Chimera replied. "Guess the body kinda sorts all that small stuff out when you're made to jump of cliffs. Doesn't mean it sucks any less not having anything soft to lean against. Though...looks like Eoin and Argon got that taken care of."

A knowing smile formed on the Bagon and Zorua as they glanced over to the back of the craft. Even with the Pallid having lost his orange facade, the Zorua had made smuggling both herself and him on board almost too easy. Light snoozing from both Charmander and Raichu filled their small confines. Wooden floor of the craft not the most desirable place to sleep, the two were sitting up, back to back. Heads were resting on the other's shoulder, while tails were angled out of the way, sitting on the other's lap.

"They've barely said a word since we boarded," Cerise replied. "Cute though, seeing them like this. Never thought I'd be sitting here jealous of a Pallid, of all things."

The Bagon gave a terse chuckle, careful not to wake them. True, he had seen some signs in the brief period he had seen them together, but nothing to this extent.

"Which Eoin do you think she's leaning against? For his sake, I hope it's not the civil one, dude was never too keen on flying. I'm...glad though, that she managed to start something. More progress than I ever made."

"You and me both," Cerise replied, similarly chuckling, "never had the time really, nor the motivation. Most 'mons usually don't take well to a Zorua that either spends her days studying a glorified rock or waiting in the brush to pickpocket someone for pocket change. Rightfully so."

Cerise let out a soft sigh, unbuckling her bag to take out the same notebook she had initially shown Chimera. The Bagon kept his glare neutral. For all their banter, they'd more than likely have differing opinions of each other if the thief had succeeded in their initial encounter. In spite of this, he knew the resigned laugh that left her mouth well.

"Doesn't have to be that way. You ever thought about joining the guild, joining the team? Might take some...convincing, from those two, but I'm sure we'd be able to work something out."

The Zorua took more than a few seconds pondering. Her eyes shifted, fluctuating between the Bagon before her, and something tucked into the recesses of her exploration bag. Buckling canvas from the craft filled in the silence, along with continued snoozing from the two pokemon at their side.

Cerise shook her head, digging her maw into the bag to reveal a particular object. It was a small, metallic hexagon, about the size of a fist and inscribed in a silvery, blue sheen. Intricate carvings and runes adorned the hexagon. Inscribed lines jutted in from each corner, converging to form a single point. A lone needle ran on a pivot from the center, like the analogue arrow of a compass or volt meter. She held it in her mouth carefully, setting it on the ground before them as if it was crafted out of fine porcelain. If her very soul had not rested on the relic being preserved, Chimera wouldn't know.

"Thanks, but...I got my own path to follow, sunken cost fallacy and all that. Besides, me and the guild haven't exactly seen eye to eye for a while. Dad had me study regulation enough back in the day to know that you'd be jeopardizing your future having a team member with a seven month track in prison."

Chimera's thoughts paused at the last of the Zorua's words. He instead looking toward the metallic hexagon before them. A certain sense of familiarity filled his conscouse. He'd seen this before, being presented with an unknown item of mysticism. Underneath Cerise's hollow smile, the Bagon could sense she too knew the scene.

"You won't get any judgement from me of the 'Dread Bandit Cerise', but if you don't mind me asking...how many times exactly have you been arrested? The last time you went in was a month, right?"

The Zorua shivered, breaking eye contact. Her paw then took hold of the relic, holding it close to her chest.

"Arceus, I think the number of stints I've taken is something like...thirteen? Give or take. A-And It really is a stupid name, isn't it? Some tauros-crap I thought of after my first pickpocket. A careless step here, an attempt at theatrics that ends with me tied up and behind bars there...it all adds up. You weren't the first 'mon I tried pulling a stunt like that with out of boredom, though you were the first one that ended up humoring me. I appreciate that."

"Feeling's mutual," Chimera replied, flashing her a grin. "I enjoy talking with Argon, but it does get pretty fricken' tedious doing the same thing everyday. Guess she makes more of it than I do."

"So, why do you do it?" he continued, tone neutral. "Can't imagine spending a month doing pushups and eating cardboard, preserved oran berries is helpful for whatever you're trying to do."

Looking into her eyes, the Bagon saw a slight shift in the way she returned his gaze. Her head drooped, paws aimlessly fiddling with the needle of the hexagon.

"When I started it off, after I...parted ways with Dad to find Celebi, was more about survival than anything. Could've gone to one of those nine to five factory jobs, but spending a couple hours in a mystery dungeon swiping change off of the teams that go by gives you a lot time. Following the mismash of clues left behind by the legendaries, I thought I needed it. Eventually though, It became...liberating in a sense, not having to care about prepping for where I'd be in a couple years, or what others thought of me."

"Eh, I can understand that, in a sense," Chimera replied, "spent a lot of time caught in the rattata race myself. Still am too, in a way, but at least now I got something to look forward to."

"You're more prepared than us. Talking with Cerise...I'm not sure either of us know what we're gonna do if we ever get Mom back."

Chimera jumped, as did Cerise. His eyes darted around the fuselage, eventually settling on Fennekin that had appeared seemingly out of mid-air. Her voice was the slightest bit different than the Zorua's, staring toward the Bagon in pensive silence. Chimera shot out of his seat. He scrambled for his weapon, only stopping when Cerise waved her paw between him and the aberration.

"How the hell did you—"

"D-Dammit, Sophia," the Zorua sputtered, "I told you not to show up in front of the Bagon!"

Cerise shirked back as soon as the words left her mouth. A glance from Chimera to Eoin and Argon confirmed their snoozing still filled the room, and a voice inside his head thanked Arceus for them both being heavy sleepers.

"I-I'm sorry, Cerise," the Fennekin replied. "I just thought we'd get introductions out of the way before they—"

"You couldn't have just waited until I told him?" she shot back. "How do you think this makes both of us look?"

"Hey, you're not the only one who hasn't had someone else to talk to in the past month! You and I both know you weren't going to tell him."

Chimera was lost. On instinct, the Bagon reached for a loose berry from one of the supply crates, throwing it at the Fennekin. Suspicions were neither confirmed nor denied as the berry went straight through her body.

"Cerise, is...is this an act? Like the Salamence and pallids way back?"

The foxes heads shot back to Chimera. They immediately looked away, staring toward the floor like it was the only thing on the craft that wasn't staring back.

"Well y-yes...and no," Cerise replied, "It's complicated. Let's just say the mind gets kind of messed up when your subconscious end up giving an actual body and voice to your childhood imaginary friend."

Sophia nodded. She stepped toward the Bagon, having realized the pecha berry on the floor was phasing through one of her legs.

"Yep. Been that way for a while, longer than either of us could have expected. We talk a lot. Not much else to do besides that, study notes, and improve your illusion abilities when you're locked up for a month. She took your victory due to her carelessness very personally. Good for me, at least. I can finally speak aloud now, instead of just in her mind."

"Yeah, it's great," Cerise replied, tone half laden in sarcasm, "but would you mind just...sitting back for a little while we sort this out? We can talk later, I'd rather not put this off any longer than I have to."

The Fennekin stepped aside, sitting herself on one of the seats opposite them both. Chimera could no doubt see the cheery smiles that had made its way to both of their faces, even if his own was stuck in deadpan contemplation. Silence enveloped all three as glances were exchanged. Cerise looked toward Chimera, metallic hexagon being pulled closer to her chest as she waited for the Bagon's inevitable judgement.

"I wouldn't blame you to say there's something a little messed up here," Cerise said, raising a paw next to her head in a twirling motion. A look toward Sophia confirmed that she was of similar disposition. The Bagon hadn't said a word. One second passed. Then another. Then another couple, until his scrutinizing stare was broken by a soft chuckle to forces unknown.

"Honestly, Cerise...I've seen weirder, it's a hell of a lot better than a volleyball. Looks like you and Eoin have more in common than you think."

The Zorua let out a deep sigh, chuckling more in relief than anything. Sophia did similar, having just realized she was holding in a breath. The Fennekin rose from her seat and walked toward Chimera. She extended a paw to shake, only for both to blink as it went straight through the Bagon's hand. She turned away, clearing her throat.

"S-Sorry, I just...it's nice getting to talk to someone different. Anyway, where were we?"

"The time gear," Cerise said, jumping up in realization, "Chimera, I realize I don't exactly have the best reputation, but would you mind if I were to take a look at it? I've been planning this for...Arceus knows how long."

Chimera nodded, gesturing towards the blue radiance seeping through Eoin's bag. Even so, the Bagon couldn't help but huff at the irony; in spite of it being his primary objective, a Zorua not even sent on their mission was getting more benefit out of their reward than he ever would.

"Yeah, sure. I'm not sure we'll be able to get it from them without waking them up, though. Seems pretty—"

It was done. In one swift motion, the Zorua had opened the bag held protectively in the sleeping Charmander's hand and hoisted it out like she had scored lucky on a crane game. Eoin and Argon's snoozing continued filling the room, having been undisturbed.

"Never mind."

"Always helps to have a certain set of skills," Sophia commented, "served us better in the past couple years than most of the academic stuff they taught us."

"I don't doubt it" Chimera asked, turning to the two foxes with a grin. "But tell me this then: how much poké would I have after four years with a principle of one hundred, an interest rate of four percent, and a period of four years compounded quarterly?"

Silence. Cerise shook her head, shrugging as Sophia cast her a curious glance.

"Don't look at me. If you don't know it, chances are I don't either."

"You see, that's the difference between us," Chimera said, "I've been through the rattata race, you've been lucky, or smart enough to avoid it."

"We tried," Sophia replied. "Learning that stuff, I mean, but it kinda went by the wayside once Cerise decide to continue Mother's research. All that long-term scholar stuff didn't really seem that important to her compared to—"

"The mission," Cerise finished, "I'm willing to bet you'll beat me in the long run Chimera, but as of now? I got family to save, future be damned."

The Zorua's frown dissipated as she began to analyze the time gear. Another reach into her bag, and she pulled out the notebook, frantically writing observations with a pencil clutched in her mouth.

"Blue aura, reflective quality in material, arrow carvings matching those of legends," she mumbled, smile growing with every second, "now...comes the interesting part. Chimera, have you ever heard of the Passage of Time?"

His eyes closed, hand raised to his chin. It had been so long.

"Can't say I...wait. Vaguely, yeah. What about it?"

"That's the key," she chirped, "the evidence has been a little spotty, but if the legends have any truth in them, then the purpose of time gears is to serve as conduits for the Passage of Time, making sure that the flow of time remains consistent across the world. At least, that's what Mom concluded. She had her doubts of course. There's pages upon pages of notes proposing different theories, could never find an explanation for why pallids existed either, but if she is…then I'll say the benefits of being right outweigh the cost of being wrong. After all, why would they build waypoints like these—"

She held out her paw, placing the hexagon with the center needle next to the time gear. Chimera's eyes widened; the object's size was a perfect fit for the center hole of the time gear.

"—without a compass? It's right. It's gotta be right. And once this works, once this points me to the Passage of Time, I'll be one step closer to finding Celibi and getting my family back. "

The Fennekin opened her mouth, as if to object, but no words came out. Chimera studied the object. As interesting as it was, a tinge of doubt lay in the Bagon's mind. Eoin had already told him everything he knew, and nothing of what the lake guardians had said told of a compass. And yet, seeing the Zorua's determination, he similarly found himself lost for words.

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" said Chimera. "Legendaries are a-waitin, don't want 'mons like us wasting their time."

Cerise beamed back his smile tenfold. As she picked up the hexagon, laying it just above the similarly sized cutout in the center of the gear, even Sophia drew closer to watch. Utter quiet filled the room. Argon and Eoin's snoozing seemed to have lulled down into nearly a whisper. Her paws trembled, sweat beginning to bead down from their pads onto the relic. Breaths quickened, a silent resolution passing between all that this was the moment.

"N-No we don't. Who knows? They might even be inclined to bring back that special one you told me about. Anyway...need to concentrate."

For a brief second, as Cerise's paws lay frozen before the two pieces, Chimera's thoughts wavered. Did he want the Togetic to return, even if splitting hairs told him she had never really come in the first place? Half of his mind said yes, but something wasn't right. From what the Zorua had insinuated, the Zoroark she had shown him was long gone. The human? She still had a long life ahead of her, one no doubt filled with as much enjoyment in that world as the Bagon had managed to find in his own.

He turned back. After another hour-long second, Cerise lowered the hexagon. It slotted into the cutout with an almost foreign neatness, as if it had been forever designed through the millennia for that specific object. Two relics connected, Bagon, Zorua, and Fennekin held their breath.

Nothing.

A whole lot of nothing. The needle remained in place, not moving an inch even after Cerise began to hastily turn the gear clockwise. A glance to the Zorua after minutes had passed found that she was, in a figurative sense, frozen. Mouth closed, eyes unwaveringly staring at the gear in disbelief, like a poker player being shown an opposing royal flush.

"Did...did you put it in sideways?" Chimera asked.

Her paws shot to the gear. Wordlessly, she took it out, twisting it so that the corners of the hexagon lined up differently with those of the gear. Nothing. She tapped the needle, fiddling with it like a pilot attempting to jump-start a propeller. Nothing. She grabbed the connected relics, banging it against the floor of the craft with a resounding clang. Nada. Cerise let go of the gear, staring forward with a omnipresent quiver.

"Cerise," Sophia whispered, "I'm sure that there are plenty of other explanations for this, but...do you think that Dad's theory might be—"

"Save it," replied the Zorua, holding up a paw. "P-Please. We've been through this."

"But what if he's right?" Sophia implored. "He's been studying this stuff for almost as long as Mom, what if—"

"I'm not willing to believe that. I- we've given up to much for it to be nothing. I just...missed something. A minor setback, nothing more."

Cerise turned to Chimera, expression that of a tipped over spoink.

"Please, your team was the one that got this thing in the first place, is there anything I missed? The compass...there had to have been some mention of it, wasn't there? And why these time gears even existed in the first place?"

"Yeah, Eoin told me everything he saw while we were coming down from the mountain. I'm not sure if he's hiding anything, but—"

The Bagon's conscious caught up to his mouth. It lay agape, both Zorua and Fennekin waiting anxiously for a reply. Was it worth saying? No matter what Chimera told the truth, it wouldn't be encouraging. Yet, in Cerise's eyes, it seemed the pokemon wouldn't be content with a comforting lie.

"No, I'm sorry to say, never heard anything about a compass. I've talked to Uxie, and from what Eoin told me about him and Azelf, they're a pretty direct source. Didn't hear about the Passage of Time either, sounded like the time gears got their power from the Pallids...weird as that may seem."

Sophia again cast a wary glance to Cerise, only to find that the Zorua was looking away, eyes closed and paw to her forehead as if stifling a headache.

"L-Like I said, it just needs more time."

"But if it doesn't match up with what we've researched, how can you be sure there even is a Passage of Time, or Celebi for that matter?" Sophia asked. "Please, Cerise, I'm not sure how many more sleepless nights we can take, or how many more pokemon you can pickpocket before this starts to catch up with us. M-Maybe it might be worth taking Dad up on that offer he made when he—"

"I know about the offer," she shot back, voice seething, "and no. If that two face had tried to help us with this, we could have gotten Mom back years ago. Just have some Arceus-damn faith, will you?"

She huffed, showing none of the previous observance as she grabbed the hexagon in her jaw and shoved it back into the bag. The Zorua then took hold of the time gear, placing it back in Eoin's own exploration pack. In averting her gaze from Sophia, Cerise suddenly realized the other occupant of the glider. Black fur on the back of her neck shot up.

"S-Shit, I'm sorry for dragging you into this. I'm sure you three already got enough to worry about."

"Don't worry about it, Cerise. Do you wanna...sit down and talk about this?" he asked. "You seem like you're a bit conflicted with yourself, I can relate."

Before she could answer, Sophia bolted up to the Bagon. Her paw pointed forward, centered on Chimera's gold-level badge. Looking into the Fennekin's eyes, the Bagon swore he could almost see...tears? Could illusions cry?

"Please Mr. Bagon, I've kept my mouth shut until now, but since you're here now...we need a second opinion. When Cerise and I first set out, I was all for it, but the longer we went on, the more pokemon we hurt; I-I'm not even sure if it's worth it anymore. Even if we do somehow succeed, what if Mom doesn't approve of what we've done? What if...what if she thinks it would have been better for us to leave her at rest?"

The Fennekin dissipated for an instant as Cerise jumped towards her. She went in for the tackle, only to fall to the floor as her body went straight through. She cursed, breaths fuming and eyes laden with tears all too similar to Sophia's.

"If Mom was still around, then maybe I wouldn't have spent the better part of my life talking to a Fennekin who's not even real!"

She shut her eyes, tears soaking into her fur as she looked down in concentration. Sophia's own eyes shot open in terror, and a second later the Fennekin disappeared in a flash of light, this time for good.

Not a single soul left in their narrow confines moved an inch. From the Cerise's empty look toward the space where Sophia had been, the Zorua appeared like she had just killed a 'mon. Her legs gave way, and she collapsed to the floor, eyes motionless and bloodshot.

"S-Sophia, I...I didn't—I'm sorry."

Chimera stepped forward, just about to place his hand on the Zorua's back when the glider made contact with the ground. It fell down with a resounding bang, Bagon similarly tripping to the floor as groggy moans from Charmander and Raichu gave way to yelps. Just as before, the craft bounced back into the air for a brief second, before returning to earth with another resounding clang.

"Wh...what happened?" Argon asked, eyes shooting open towards Chimera and Cerise. "Did we miss anything important?"

Eoin made a similar gesture, before looking down to confirm that he had reapplied his scale's artificial, orange hue. A quick examination of his exploration bag confirmed that the time gear was still in place, seemingly untouched. Canvas buckled, and wheels skidded to a stop as Chimera locked eyes with Cerise. The Bagon didn't need to be an aura reader to know that the smile put on by Cerise toward the two was as much of an illusion as anything else she had created. A silent conversation took place in milliseconds between Bagon and Zorua, ending with a minuscule nod from the former, and a heavy breath from the latter.

"No," Chimera replied, "nothing too important. Looks like we're at the way station though. You two get enough sleep?"

Eoin nodded. He redonned the goggles, vision alternating between the paralyzed limbs of the Bagon, the punctured tail on himself, and most notably, the pale white legs of the Raichu.

"I believe so. Do as you wish, Chimera, but I would recommend we all get some proper medical attention as soon as possible. I would hate for any of us having to experience any...permanent injuries."

The Pallid got up to his feet. Another glance towards the Raichu's legs was all the motivation Eoin needed. In spite of the helpful nature of his outstretched hand, Argon couldn't help a shiver running up her spine. Was she really this much of a burden now?

"T-Thank you, Eoin, but I think It's been long enough that I can try sta—"

Just as the Raichu made to stand, what little control she still had over her legs gave way. Every pokemon in the room simultaneously jumped as Argon began falling toward the floor. Her arms scrambled for a balancing point, finding it in the Charmander's own reach. With a defeated sigh, she hung her arm over Eoin's shoulder, lifting her other paw up to hide her face.

"Dammit...still got a long way to go, I guess. Thanks again, really. Y-You've held your hand out in more ways than one, guess this'll be a learning experience for both of us."

"Only returning the favor," Eoin replied, returning the Raichu's smile. "If we both are as inexperienced as we say, then I look forward to teaching each other in the road ahead."

Chimera turned away, raising his own hand to conceal a giggle. When he had turned to Cerise, however, it lulled to an awkward pause. The Zorua was peeking out one of the side windows adjacent the door.

"Shit."

"Cerise, you okay?" he asked. "You look like someone who just lost their keys."

Quick as a Greninja, she ducked away from the window. A brief flash of light enveloped the Zorua, in its place appearing a Riolu. It ambled over to the door, drawing confused glances from Raichu and Charmander alike.

"I-I should probably get going. My record's clean now, but you never can tell which pokemon around Eastern Faire have good memories. If anyone asks, my name is Aria, and I'm a Riolu living in the mountains that decided to shepard you three up, in exchange for transportation here. Sound reasonable?"

The Bagon's narrow-eyed look remained, but he nodded. The two walked up to the front of the craft, and the Riolu put her hand on the door handle, before glancing one last time toward Chimera. Eoin and Argon followed close behind.

"I guess this is it them," Cerise said. "Thanks for everything Chimera, I'm sorry you had to see...all that. I hope we'll meet again."

"So do I," he replied, flashing her a grin, "hope things work out better between you and Sophia. Sounds like she really does care, and I think you and I both know what that means."

The Riolu flickered, and Cerise reappeared. For the moment, she was silent, concentrating as if lost in thought to forces unknown. Chimera was just about to interject when she looked back up, smiling and giving the Bagon a terse nod. Another transformation back into the Riolu, and she began opening the door. Sunlight cracked into the door as it opened a smidge, until Chimera's hand fell over the Riolu's. It phased through the spike on the metallic pack of the illusion hand, touching black fur.

"And Cerise, one more thing."

She looked back. Chimera had leaned in close, glancing over his shoulder to confirm that Argon and Eoin couldn't see. His tone had lost its usual levity, expression similarly having morphed into a resolute scowl. Teeth, once shining in humor, gritted against each other, as if about to bite down at any second. Neither malicious nor vindictive, yet filling its intent of making her heartbeat rise.

For all their banter, what were they? Thief and explorer, only exchanging pleasantries from the former's failure. With his hand on her paw, something clicked in the Bagon's mind of what he was about to do. She would continue stealing, be it as it may for an ambitious cause. The Zorua had made that clear. And what if she was caught? He would be to blame, the Bagon that had let a known criminal escape without a word of deterrence. His eyes closed, brief images flashing over his conscious of the frozen lake, of the tiny slip of paper crumpled in the human's pocket. No, it would not happen again. Chimera's eyes were wide as he placed his other hand on Cerise's back, before retreating it to the side as it clenched into a fist.

"I want to help you," he whispered. "You've done me a good turn, and if we do ever meet again I'd be happy to return the favor. But if worse comes to worse, and we ever, ever get in another situation where our business contradicts...I'll have you behind bars myself. We each got a job to do, and fact of the matter is I don't think either of us are going to compromise on that. Nothing personal, just wanted to make that clear. Alright?"

The Riolu's face shot back, but after a moment's contemplation she nodded, smile having similarly been reduced. Chimera's hand lifted, and she opened the door, walking out with head lowered and pace brisk, but not too brisk. Just as the Riolu was about to leave his sight, she turned back.

"Best of luck, Chimera. I hope you find what you're looking for."

"And you too, Aria," he replied, amiable tone returning. "And don't think we can't keep the game going once that happens. Score's still one all, I think."

After one last glance over her shoulder, Cerise departed, leaving Bagon, Raichu, and Charmander to hobble out of the craft. Just over the horizon, above the distant layer of trees on all sides, the three could barely see the icy mountain of their origins, peek where they had encountered the lake guardians nearly concealed with clouds. The ground before them was a combination of dirt and gravel, stretching in a long and narrow line that formed an airfield, perhaps one of the few spots on Eastern Faire where the sky wasn't shielded by jungle canopy. Next to this airfield were rows upon rows of gliders, parked next to each other nearly as numerous as the plentiful amount of bird pokemon either resting from previous or preparing for future flights.

Almost instantaneously after the three had exited, a team of two consisting of Whimsicott and Gardevoir rushed toward them, with stretcher in hand. Silver guild badges adorned red and white bags laden with various medical accoutrements. At the sight of Eoin and Argon, the Gardevoir turned to her assistant, pointing towards the stretcher only for Argon to raise her paw.

"Please, I can walk...sort of, just need to get somewhere to sit down."

The Gardevoir nodded, pointing to a multi-story brick tower that rose just above the treeline. Pokemon stood on the top, either observing the various craft circling in the air, or shouting back orders to the pokemon below.

"Medical office is just under the observation tower. Some broken limbs and a punctured tail should be childsplay to treat. As for you, Argon...it's bad, but I've seen worse. Knew this one Grovyle—Gods rest his soul—whose team got caught in one of those dungeons. Poor fellow ended up losing his arm. Recovery won't be short, but if the gods are kind you'll be up and walking eventually."

An omnipresent sigh of relief left from all three. Chimera was just about to question how the Gardevoir already knew their names, but after a moment's thought he figured he'd be meeting with the explanation soon enough. After wooden crutches were distributed to the Bagon, adjusted to their shortest length to accompany his arm size, they reached the tower. Eoin was just about to open the door, when he saw that Chimera had turned away. The Whimsicott was positioned as if it had just whispered something into his ear.

"Are you coming?" he asked. "I'm sure you need treatment as much as the rest of us, and there is something I need to show you and Argon after that happens."

"Y-Yeah," Chimera replied, "I'll be with you guys soon, it's just...I made a promise, and apparently they want someone to debrief about this whole mess as soon as possible."

The Pallid's mouth opened to object, but after glancing to Argon and the blue radiance barely seeping out of his exploration bag, it shut.

"Fine," Eoin replied, "but make sure you are back here as soon as possible, I cannot stress the urgency of this enough."

The door opened, and Gardevoir and Whimsicott entered. Eoin and Argon were close behind, latter's arm still slung around the former, before stopping one last time. The Pallid noticed well enough the occasional glances the Whimsicott would give to his goggles and tail cover. Its arm raised to the Charmander, just about to comment on the strange accessory before it fell to the side. As the Pallid turned away, he breathed a deep sigh of relief; he'd just dodged a bullet. Bagon and Raichu looked toward each other, words not being needed to convey best wishes.

"Chimera, I...thank you, for saving my life. I-I know we've had our disagreements in the past, but I hope we'll be able to keep this up in the future."

"No problem," the Bagon replied, returning her a grin more genuine than boisterous, "that's what partners are for. I was only returning the favor, after all."

After Eoin and Argon had entered, the Bagon was alone. He got off his crutches, planting himself on a metal bench against the tower wall as he mulled over the Whimsicott's message. He had made an agreement after all, the question was, where was the other half of it?

He wouldn't have to wait long. A faint rumbling noise carried around the corner of the tower. It chugged along, like the engine of an old train as it approached. The Bagon's expression twisted into incredulity. It was familiar to something from his old life, some omnipresent mechanism he had been forced to get acquainted to on his commune to the daily grind, yet slightly different.

"What the hell? Is that a...car?"

It was. From around the tower corner, a shimmering, metallic green automobile ambled towards the Bagon, kicking up small plots of gravel in its wake. It was open top, with only a boxy pane of glass as a windshield. Narrow wheels more befitting of a bicycle accompanied its narrow and boxy appearance. If Chimera were in any other world, he would have called it something between vintage and outdated. The only difference he could perceive between the vehicle before him, and the especially early models of vehicles from his own world, was the driver's seat. Or, lack thereof. While ornate leather seating was present on the passenger side, the driver's side was completely empty. Standing on the floor, controlling the wheel would have been uncomfortable to most pokemon, in exception to the two, familiar faces that smiled toward the Bagon.

"Greetings, old chum. Wonderful weather for a drive, wouldn't you say?"

The Girafarig's horns were imbued with a pinkish aura, telekinetically directing the automobile's steering wheel so that it pulled in front of Chimera. The gesture did little to calm his incredulous stare.

"How...how did you—"

"Suits your fancy?" Binair replied, tapping the green door with his hoof. "I assure you, I am not solely compensating for something. I simply figured this would make for a better entrance than a carriage. A wondrous innovation, wouldn't you say? Finished overseeing the final assembly after you left. The first of its kind, in a way at least. Might take some time retooling the factories, but I can confidently say it will have a wondrous impact on Faire's populace."

Another glow of the Girafarig's horns, and the passenger door opened. Binair's cane levitated out, pointing toward the short seat at his side, size as though it was specifically crafted for Chimera.

"This...is about that mission we agreed upon, right?" he said, feet frozen in place. "We going somewhere?"

"Correct. There's a certain location I wanted to show you, but I figured we'd have the debrief on the way there. After I was informed of your team's condition, I knew it wouldn't be right for you to have to walk."

Chimera nodded, cringing with a glance toward the arm and leg still paralyzed in place. The more he looked towards Binair, however, the greater sense he got that something was...off. The Girafarig's usual assertive grin was there, but under it, was a sense of perturbation. A smile the slightest bit plastic. A posture the slightest bit awkward. His hoofs tapped on the floor like he hadn't had a wink of rest. After standing up from the bench, and taking hold of the crutches, Chimera ambled towards the vehicle, clambering himself in the passenger's seat.

"Care to drive, old chum?"

"Are you kidding?" Chimera replied, wiggling his one, good, pathetic stump of an arm. "The last time I had to drive, I was tall enough to not need a booster seat."

Binair was a surprisingly smart driver. He had little reason not to be, for as the minutes passed the Girafarig had barely said a word. His eyes remained locked on the bumpy, gravel rock road that cut its way through dense jungle canopy. They truly were in the mainland. As Chimera leaned his hand out of a car window for the first time in his new world, it grazed more than a couple of branches jutting out from side path trees.

Caravans nearly as long as trains passed them on the road. The first group of Mudsdale and Rapidash carriages were filled to the brim with produce of all kinds. Berries, root vegetables, and potatoes ever familiar to the stew the Bagon had eaten in his first meal with Eoin were stacked atop the clattering cart. The contents of the second caravan was more ambiguous. Soldier pokemon directed carriages supporting tall and wide boxes, covered with tarps. If Chimera listened closely, he could almost hear faint growls as they passed. A stiff bump of the vehicle knocked him back to attention; when they reached their destination, he was going to have to ask Binair if suspension had been invented yet.

"Chimera, would you oppose to me asking you a somewhat personal question?"

How often did a superior have the tact to ask for permission? Chimera shook his head, raising his head to the wind like a dog through a car door. Sure, a brisk twenty miles an hour wasn't exactly thrill seeking, but he'd take it over free fall any day of the week.

"Thank you. Now, I understand any conflicts of interest this question might entail, but may I have your assurances that you are honest?"

Chimera nodded. Binair looked him in the eye, giving occasional glances back to the road as his hoofs returned to tapping on the metallic floor. The question was on the tip of his tongue, and a glance at the frowning tail bobbing with the suspension confirmed it was similarly in doubt.

"In your travels, did you ever happen upon a Zorua...perhaps one who recently concealed herself as a Riolu? Boastful demeanor, fascination with legends and relics, ambition matched with a slight bit of overconfidence? You quite possibly might have seen her close by with a Fennekin."

The car swerved, saving itself at the last second from drifting into the forest canopy as Binair waited for Chimera's response. The Bagon fell back onto his seat, expression frozen. Two sides tore into his conscious at which pokemon was better worth betraying, but after a moment's thought the answer was obvious.

"Y-Yeah. Met her on a while back when she tried to steal one of our badges. Met her again on our way back down from the mountain. She...she helped us a fair bit, seemed to have her own trouble to deal with. Do you know her?"

"Of course I—"

Binair's tail fell to a frown, his own eyes similarly drooped. The automobile again continued to drift, but a flare of the Girafarig's horns put it back on course.

"Yes, we are—were, well acquainted. While waiting for your team's return, I saw her peeking through the aircraft windows...judging from her reaction, I assume she saw me as well. For most, her illusions are enough to fool the average pokemon, but when one such as I spends the better part of their years surrounded by someone even more envious of them than her, you start to notice the tonalities that give it away."

The Girafarig sighed. He lifted his hoof, smacking the button of a small, metallic container in between the driver and passengers side. After the cover sprang open, an especially thick wallet levitated into the air at his side. It was green canvas, ornately inscribed, and filled with enough coins to pay the Bagon's rent twenty times over. It levitated to him, opening itself at Binair's side opposite Chimera. In the Bagon's brief glimpse it its contents, he spotted a faint, black and white photo sewn onto the inside. On the left side of the picture was the same Girafarig, decidedly more youthful, and with a beaming smile nuzzled against another pokemon. From the way the wallet was placed, Chimera could only guess as to who the other figure was. What he did see however, was a sizable egg, positioned between the two. Momentary glances confirming the road ahead was empty, Binair stared at the photo.

Whatever change in tone the Bagon had seen looking toward his boss increased tenfold. As the road winded on, and the Girafarig's glances to the photo grew ever more present, Chimera swore he could see moisture beginning to form in his boss's eyes. Binair pulled his head away, blinking the beginnings of tears away as his horns began to glow. The vehicle pulled to the side of the road, and after the brake pedal surrounded itself in a psychic aura, they were motionless.

"Sir, something wrong?" the Bagon asked.

"It's a chimera, you know."

The wallet closed, shoving itself inside the storage container that similarly shut.

"I...don't follow."

"The plan," Binair replied, "of cheating time and returning her mother. I wish to gods human and pokemon alike for her sake that it wasn't, but I've had it confirmed on good authority. The compass...it is more of a meter than anything, a simple tool the gods used when crafting the time gears, before discarding it. Once I had it confirmed however, I had lost too much reputation in her eyes for my words to have value."

Chimera bit his lip, fiddling to unbuckle the seatbelt as he turned toward Binair. The notes, maps, the hexagonal compass, he couldn't deny their aura of mysticism, and yet any attempt to raise an objection on her behalf found the air sucked out of his mouth.

"Well, what did you do?" he asked. "To piss her off so much? If you don't mind me asking. She sounded pretty dedicated when I talked to her, but I don't see why she'd completely disregard your judgement. Hell, you haven't been wrong so far, at least with the time gears."

Carriages rumbled past as the Girafarig seemed unwilling to avert his gaze from the road ahead. His hoof moved, gesturing tentatively to the metallic gear shift. Chimera reached over, and as the vehicle was put in park, Binair's head had turned, both sets of eyes staring absently to the plethora of incoming traffic.

"It's...not an easy task, building up a world, nor one that leaves much room for other considerations. We had our disagreements, and if I'm being perfectly honest, if I had been there for her more in her early youth, this whole mess could have been avoided."

"Well, there's still time," Chimera replied. "You saw her, didn't you? I'm sure she just needs someone to talk to; seems like she's only had herself for a while. That, and someone to say that sneaking around in mystery dungeons looking for pickpockets isn't the best long-term strategy. "

Chimera's head tilted, before retreating to a passive stare. A lowly thief, born of the richest 'mon in the region? Granted, Chimera would sooner jump off another cliff than know what it was like raising a child, and it wasn't like he was in a position to object.

The Girafarig stared at him, perhaps a second too long. His eyes shifted, glancing between the Bagon before him, the photo hidden under the storage compartment, and the frequent supply carriages rattling past. He was only a lowly employee, wasn't he? Granted, one that had been given more opportunity than in any other world, and yet something in Binair's look was different. His hoof raised, placing it on the Bagon's shoulder.

"I...I plan to, but before I do, there is some business that needs to be taken care of. There's a plan, old chum, there's a plan. We need only show conviction, and not hesitate in the path ahead."

His hoofs glowed, gear shift and pedal surrounded in tandem by light as the vehicle continued chugging along. The minutes passed, the twisting turns of the dense, jungle road continued. Just over the forest canopy in the distance, Chimera spotted a grandiose, red shingled roof. Even with only vague outlines of the ornate windows and marble pillars, the Bagon could tell it was the near equal of the guild hall.

"She was going to be an actor, you know."

Chimera jolted upward, another bump on the road punctuating the statement. He glanced over to meet the Girafarig's eyes, but found them centered on the road, seemingly lost within a dead-eyed stare.

"I figured," Chimera replied, "she's got a talent for thievin', though. Probably would have gotten away with my badge if those two things didn't contradict with each other."

The Girafarig let out a terse snort, holding it for a half second before it fell into a sigh.

"I had it all planned out. She was to have the best training, the best education. Throughout all of it, however, I failed to realize how much my absence was driving her away. And now...I let her future slip between her paws."

"I don't think she blames you about that, Sir," the Bagon added. "For what it's worth. Hell, I'm willing to say she feels just as bad about the whole thing as you do. At least part of her does."

Binair's two heads lulled, latter half taking a slight nibble out of the passenger side's leather seating. The sound of gravel against tires was interrupted as the Girafarig's hooves stomped to the metal floor.

"A thief," he said, spitting the words with no shortage of vile. "I appreciate your understanding, old chum, but it doesn't change the fact that's what I turned her into. One that I have no doubt I'll meet again through jailhouse windows in the upcoming weeks. I-I've been to her performances, funded the construction of the penitentiary theatre myself, as well as the one way glass I can observe from, for her sake. Little Zorua plays the best partner in 'Heroes of Time' you can imagine. I-I...I'm proud of her for that, for what it is worth."

Chimera was just about to chuckle that he had his doubts at the claim, but the Bagon stayed his tongue. His hands jittered, incredulous scowl forming his face at the prospect of hearing such a foreign tone from someone in authority. The Girafarig's confession was nearly a whisper, without a hint of bravado to speak of. The automobile approached one last corner, nearly coming within eyesight of the chateau so buried within the island's mainland.

"Sir, knowing this, I apologize for not bringing her to you," Chimera said, cringing as his eyes met his own gold badge, "or letting a thief go for that matter."

"Don't be, old chum" came the instantaneous reply. "It is...for the better, all things considered. When the time is right, I shall try my best at being the pokemon she deserved. If the gods are kind, I can push aside my hubris enough for it to let me."

Chimera reached down, unlatching the protective box and reaching for the wallet haphazardly shoved inside. Binair flinched, but after a moment's pause from the Bagon, gestured in approval. Chimera held the wallet up between the two of them, giving the Girafarig as much of a look of reassurance as he could.

"I have no doubt. Hell, you're a heck of a lot better boss than I ever experienced. Just give it time. Besides, I think you have a pretty good reason why she'd be willing to give you a second chance."

"Any why is that?" Binair asked, flinching again as Chimera laid his hand on the wallet.

Chimera smiled, giving him a toothy grin as he glanced over to the driver's side, looking Binair straight in the eye. He opened the wallet, unable to see it himself, but wide enough that it was in full view of the Girafarig. A second passed, then another, then another still, before exchanged glances removed any doubt. Binair let out a defeated sigh. The Bagon knew, and it wasn't like he had been subtle.

"Well...you're her pops, aren't you?"

Chimera glanced back, suspicions being confirmed as brown eyes stared toward the picture. Standing next to Binair in black and white, with its arms cradled around his neck and eyes staring lovingly towards the egg between them, was a Zoroark.
 
Chapter 24: Thawed Perspective
Author's note: Hello all! Apologies for the long delay. A combination of summer jobs and side writing projects would be most of the cause, though as of now I can confidently say that I remain set on continuing this story for as long as I am able. A big thank you for those who continued reading even in that delay. Without further adieu, here is the latest chapter.

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The room itself was a relatively drab thing. Putrid grey bricks lined the walls in a square that seemed to get smaller with every minute. Only the occasional cabinet, stethoscope, or shelf of amalgamated berries broke up the monotony, as well as a large, red cross painted onto one of the sides. Had it not been for the sole window opposite the cross, the three pokemon occupying the WFG medical office would have no trouble mistaking it for an underground bunker.

Eoin sat on a wooden stool adjacent to the red cross, claws fidgeting and feet alternating in rapid taps. Between that, and the clock stationed above the window whose hands seemed to tick with an amplification equal to a Kricketune chirp, chilling silence had overtaken the room. His neck craned, first glancing to the clock, then to the forest trail through the window with carriages of all manner and size moving through. It came to rest on the center of the room, with a Gardavoir and Raichu, standing adjacent and sitting on a medical chair respectively. The latter's legs were freshly wrapped in a thick layer of bandage and cast, holding an expression with bated breaths that equaled his own. The former held an almost blank demeanor, having spent the past hour or so attending to both of their care. In spite of this, Eoin did not miss the occasional glances the Gardevoir would give to himself, or to the goggles, tail cone, and freshly applied scale paint that the Pallid could only pray did a sufficient job at concealing his identity.

"Are… are you sure she is going to be alright?"

The Gardevoir let out a deep sigh, returning a layer of bandages to the shelf before locking eyes with Raichu and Charmander alike. From that same shelf, she procured a pair of crutches, leaning them against the chair.

"Like I said, recovery might take a while, but the damage wasn't as severe as I thought it would be. It was a gift from the gods that you got to her as fast as you did, not to mention Argon here was a lot more acclimated to colder environments than most of the tropical Raichu I've treated… 'mons will start shivering like it's Articuno's hatchday when there isn't a snowflake to be seen."

Every ounce of breath Eoin and Argon were holding in seemed to exhale at that moment, accompanied by a smile between the two that shined with a brightness not discovered before. A slight chuckle left the Raichu's lips, closed eyes suggesting its direction to be no one but herself.

"Thank you, doctor," Argon replied. "I-It means a lot, guess all that time trudging through snow back home amounted to something."

A moment of silence passed as Raichu and Charmander stared at each other. The Pallid raised a hand to his goggles, nearly lowering them until a reminder of their present company stayed his hand. Instead, he let out a half chuckle, one that Argon was glad to match.

"At the very least," said the Pallid, "there is a bright future ahead of this dark business. With your approval, I could start practicing my bridal carry for our first night at the beach."

"I wouldn't stop you," Argon replied. "But that's a big burden for a pokemon that's already swept me off my feet once."

They turned to the Gardevoir, finding her quite immune to the levity that had infected them both.

"Anyway, I'd give it maybe two weeks or so until the tissue heals enough to walk again. I'd also recommend that Eoin here keeps off his tail until the puncture wound fully heals. In the meantime, dare I ask what mission of the guild was so important that the three of you nearly had to kill yourselves to achieve it?"

A slight slouch overtook the two as their smiles froze in place. Neither said a word. Eoin shook his head a miniscule bit as Argon's eyes wandered over to the blue radiance seeping from his canvas bag. With a sigh, the Pallid stepped in between them, posture shifting so that the bag was concealed from view.

"Simply a scouting mission, one of my own creation if you can believe it. The Bagon did have a certain insistence that we complete the mission, one we were willing to follow despite the hardships we faced. I-I doubt many pokemon have charted the peak of that mountain before."

The Gardevoir's brow furrowed. She glanced over to Argon, a second passing before the Raichu gave a corroborating nod.

"If you insist. Must've been important for you to press on through that storm. I am just the doctor though, not like the Presider pays us to ask questions. Treatment wise, you two should be good to go, guess they'll bring the Bagon over when—crap…"

The Gardevoir shot to attention. After half a second of thought, and a green palm lifted in defeat to her own face, she made her way to the door. Argon and Eoin could only look at each other as the Gardevoir opened the door a smidge.

"He's already—"

She closed the door, turning back to Argon as she lifted a hand to her back, tugging the pink spike protruding from it like it was a collar. In the brief moment the door was open, the Raichu could have sworn she heard footsteps, accompanied by the creaky squeak of wheels.

"I'm sorry, Argon," the Gardevoir said. "I probably should have told you this earlier, guess my mind gets all muddled when it's in the immediate treatment phase. A little while after you all left on that expedition, Executive Binair told us he had gotten a letter, asking where you were. A few hours later, we were told we'd be having a very special guest from outside the region for when you all got back, one that wanted to speak to you alone. I-uh… I suppose it'd be best if I let you see for yourself."

As the Gardevoir went to open the door, something clicked inside the Raichu's mind. The explanation and sound ran over and over in her mind. Eoin placed a hand on her shoulder, finding her expression turning into a deeper shade of terror with every second.

"Argon, w-what's wrong? Are you alright?"

The Raichu stared toward the door, feeling the creaking of wheels and pawprints becoming ever closer as it began to open.

"No. Please, not now. N-Not when I'm like this."

The door opened, seemingly of its own fruition. Argon's feet shook with every creak of the hinge, paw raising to cover her eyes. The Raichu was nearly about to turn away and let her own bandaged legs be hidden by the medical chair, but turned back as the final beam of light flowed in from the opening. She let out a deep sigh, giving her head a preparatory shake to clear the mind.

"I understand this was short notice! You have my word this won't happen again, but is it too much to ask for a 'mon to see their own dau—oh, sweet Arceus…"

Standing in the doorway, holding an expression of shock that not even an encounter with a legendary could equal, was a Ninetales. Flecks of grey fur coated his main. His mouth stoop agape. His face held perpetually bagged eyes and wrinkles that only time, and a nearly endless life of leadership could bring. In spite of this, the feature that drew the most gazes from Charmander and Gardevoir alike were the two prominent wheels mounted to the flank of the fox. They shone in the sunlight that reflected in, being positioned against two stumps that served as the Ninetales' rear legs.

"I… I…"

The clock ticked, and tocked. Every click was like a crash, punctuating the silence that had settled over the room. A dead eyed stare filled the Ninetale's gaze through his stammer, as if preparing for a hypnosis attack that would never come. With every shift of the clock hands, his eyes seemed to likewise shift between those of the Raichu before him, and her two, bandaged legs that bore into his conscious like nothing else existed.

"I-It's good to see you, Dad," the Raichu finally said, doing her best to pull up a smile. "I… I'm sorry for not writing sooner."

With a lurch of her hands to move on the seat, Argon turned to Eoin and the Gardevoir. After a slight chuckle devoid of any sense of humor, she gestured to the two, while locking eyes with the Ninetales as best she could.

"E-Everyone, this is my dad, Sean. Was a former guildmaster outside of Faire; couldn't ask for a better parent or explorer."

The Ninetales blinked, as if needing a moment or two to even decide whether the statement was true. He let out a small nod, before placing his front foot forward to carriage him into the room. Just before the rim of his back wheel would have left the door, he stopped, letting it hang open. Now but a few feet before Argon, Sean turned towards the other two; at the very least, the stare was gone.

"Pleasure meeting you," he said, pausing only slightly at the Charmander's attire. "I-If you wouldn't mind...would my daughter and I be able to have a little discussion, in private? On my honor as a guildmaster, I swear that you will have nothing to worry about."

In an instant, the Gardevoir nodded, making her way through the door. The Pallid's feet, however, remained rooted in place, unwilling to move until his own eyes locked with Argon's. From the Charmander's upright posture, to the neutral expression of support that ignored the outside world, a simple message was conveyed without a single word uttered.

I'll stay with you, for as long as you need.

An especially tempting voice in the Raichu's mind suggested to say yes, but was silenced as she took the time to glance over her father. He had always been good at hiding his own melancholy, his own weakness. However, the trained eye of a Pichu had no trouble seeing his downtrodden stare, or the way his eyes would blink in rapidity, as if from knowing what would seep from his tear ducts if he didn't.

"Y-Yeah, it'll be fine, Eoin," Argon said. "This...this needs to be done."

Blue and goggled eyes irises met one last time as Argon gave a silent nod. With a final glance between the two, the Pallid departed. The door closed with a final click, leaving Ninetales and Raichu to look at anywhere in the room but each other. Even before it had closed, Argon could hear it. Her vision seemed to flash as she closed her eyes. Visions of letters unwritten, of days unused. Of a lazy and scared Raichu chucking into the sea what she thought was the last hope she had of becoming something even comparable to the pokemon before her. Her ears drooped in preparation; this had been a long time coming, hadn't it?

"I—"

"I-It's not serious," Argon interjected. "Well, not too much. Just got a bit careless on a mountain exploration. You got nothing to worry about, I promise. I'll be back on my feet in no time."

The Raichu could only guess the cacophony of emotions running through Sean's mind. His mouth opened, trying to speak, before shutting as his gaze returned to the floor. The process repeated, again and again, before the Ninetales finally flared to life. The two wheels creaked in objection as he slammed a paw to the floor, causing a nearby tray of medical supplies to rattle in its wake.

"But it could have been!" Sean almost shouted. "I would know. A few minute's delay in getting treatment, a storm the slightest bit chillier than you think it's going to be. It's a dangerous business, what you're doing. What if the next exploration you go on, you are not as lucky?!"

She blinked, blinked again, and blinked once more, unable to parse whether the Ninetales before her had even known the one she had grown up with. After all the training, all the explorations, all the speeches, this was his highest priority?

"... Y-You're not—"

The Ninetales forced his head to the floor, beating her to the punch as an ember from the back of his throat almost scorched the ceramic tile.

"You could get hurt, hurt enough that every waking moment of your life is forever changed. You could have the pokemon you work with and pass by on the streets forever look at you differently. You could end up driving the very pokemon that mean the most to your heart away from tearing apart your own body! I-I don't...I can't…"

What happened next, the Ninetales couldn't stop. Sean's next words died in a whimper. His breath hitched on his throat, ember inside lulling to ash from its previous inferno. His ears drooped, twitching only the slightest bit as he heard a faint lurching sound, accompanied by something akin to footsteps. The beginnings of tears had begun to form around his eyes when his head raised, finding a paw from Argon raised toward him, above the two crutches she used to support herself. At the offer, he lurched forward. The Raichu was nearly knocked off balance, regaining herself as she returned the tight embrace of Sean's paws. With his head resting to her side, she could only let out a sudden yelp as what tears hadn't already collected on his fur soaked into hers; when was the last time her father had cried in, well… ever?

"I-I'm so proud of you, Argon," Sean whimpered. "By the gods, I'm proud. I just… I wish you didn't have to go down this path. The danger. The pain. I-I never knew what that little Pichu had to fear when I put that piece of parchment in front of you, guess now I know."

It took a fair amount of restraint on the Ninetales' part for Argon to not be crushed by his grasp. Upon spotting a loose pile of paper on one of the shelves, she reached a paw to her temple, covering a single sheet in a psychic aura. Strangely, the processes seemed to come much earlier than normal, as if some unknown force was helping to push the paper along. It stopped in front of Sean's nose, allowing the ninetales to lose some of the excess mucus that had come with his tears.

"I don't understand," Argon whispered. "I-I mean, I'm not complaining, but you always said that injury was just something an explorer had to accept. Even after it happened, you never wavered on that."

"That was when they were my own," Sean instantly replied, nearly knocking over the two from abruptness. "That was… t-that was before I knew the pain my example would cause."

The Raichu's ears perked up. Something seemed to click as she ran her paw over the Ninetales' back. The biting chill that had invaded her as the door was opened had vanished, replaced by a skip of her own heart staring towards her father's unending shivers.

"B-Before you ask, this isn't on you, Dad," Argon replied. "A while back, I had thought it was fate. That whatever I did in my life I was going to end up following in your footsteps. I was wrong, though. Gotta accept my share of the responsibility of this whether I like it or not. I-I chose to do this, every step of the way. Wouldn't be fair to you or anyone else to shoehorn away the consequences."

The ticking of the clock dulled into the background as the two sat in silence, paws clutched around the other's back. Little by little, second by second, the Ninetales' sobs faded. He took his paws from her back, signalling the end of the embrace. The two backed away, at least as well as they could, with one donning wheels and the other crutches. Sean blinked, tears in his eyes still shining in the overhead light. At the very least, the worst of it had faded, instead replaced by an expression no less somber towards the Raichu.

"Yet it wouldn't be fair to you for me to avoid my share in it. I have no doubt that this whole venture was your choice, Argon, but my actions still led you to it. You wouldn't be in this state if I hadn't pushed you, even in your early youth. I-I just… wanted you to experience the same purpose and wonder I had, little did I know what that would entail."

"W-Well, if it's any consolation," Argon replied, letting out a soft, bated chuckle, "I'd probably be dead right now if you hadn't, or at least would have lost a lot worse. I'd be lying if I said that your example didn't help pull me into this, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing, is it, Dad?"

The Ninetales blinked, shaking his head upon realizing his gaze was still locked onto her bandaged legs. Brief bits of ash left his maw as each of his tails drooped. His eyes wandered, aimlessly wandering around the room.

"Do you still have it?" he asked. "That old guildmaster acceptance form I somehow thought was a good idea to frame? Please don't tell me you kept it for my sake."

Again, the Raichu let out a humorless chuckle, shifting her weight ever so slightly away.

"Y-Yeah. Does a great job covering that a hole in the plaster from when I thought moving that heavy cabinet against the drywall wouldn't mess up my concentration. But… that wasn't all the reason why I still have it, at least not now."

"Then, why?" Sean asked. "It would make excellent kindling, I say that much. Especially after all this."

Argon lifted a paw to her chin, words failing. In her haste, a crutch nearly slipped from under her shoulder. She let out a small yelp, nearly falling to the floor before some force seemed to steady her; either an invisible ghost pokemon was on community service, or she was just being delirious.

Regardless, the question bored into her. Why? Why keep something laden with such memories, unsigned, even? Ever since leaving for Faire, it went against everything the Raichu had stood for. What happened to making her own fate? To 'living life in the easiest manner possible'? She scratched her head, locking eyes with her father as an answer at least somewhat fitting manifested.

"I-I guess… it was to serve as a reminder, even after I made that promise after you and Mom waved goodbye. Of the Ninetales who could come home after his third fourteen hour shift in a row and still smile from knowing he had helped other pokemon. Of the parent that, even though we had our disagreements, still wanted the best for his child. O-Of the pokemon that, even after losing so much, still did more through his lifetime than I ever will."

Sean stood in a paralyzed stupor. His eyes were wide open, moisture from previous tears still reflecting in the overhead light. He looked over the Raichu, desperate to spot any of the tells that years of experience showed would reveal her dishonesty. Rapid blinks, feet shuffling involuntarily from their own trepidations after she would proclaim her enthusiasm for studying management philosophy. Yet, her ears twitched, and her paws trembled from adrenaline, but none of the former Pichu's usual signs made their appearance.

"You really mean that?"

Argon nodded. She tucked in her chest, lasting for a good few seconds until the stoic facade broke, and she couldn't hold her breath any longer. Three long breaths left her snouts as she returned to her father's stare, mouth curled into a tepid smile.

"Yeah. I do. I-I'd probably still be in my room if it weren't for you and the others, doing Arceus knows what as the days passed. In the past few weeks, I've felt more purpose out of this than the last four years here. I-I've formed a team, explored places and seen pokemon that seem straight out of an adventure novel. I've even-uh… found someone."

At the last statement, the Ninetales blinked, brain short circuiting for a brief moment. A second later, his eyes shot open, accompanying a gasp Argon hadn't heard since she took her first steps.

"The Charmander?"

She nodded, ear to ear smile met by a look from Sean of shock, and something else she couldn't exactly describe.

"Just yesterday, actually. His name's Eoin. N-Nothing serious, we've more or less decided to take it slow from here on out, but… he's nice, really nice. Smart. Gentlemonly. Type of pokemon to give you comfort in your worst moments."

From Sean's expression, one would think the pokemon before him had just earned platinum rank and defeated primal dialga single-handedly.

"I-I'll say, my little Pichu's all grown up. I'm glad, Argon. Real glad. Take care of him likewise in his lows. If he truly is the one, I can say from experience that the two of you won't have an ounce of regret as your grow into old age together."

"Seems easy enough," Argon replied, giving a slight chuckle. "From what he's told me, seems like Eoin will only get happier as his scales start to grey."

Upon final mention of the Charmander, Argon's ears perked up. Her head raised to the clock, a slight gasp escaping her maw; had it really been that long?

"In fact, I should probably be getting back to him. He's been really anxious about showing me… something. It's apparently got him pretty worried."

"Oh?" Sean replied. "Curious. What could possibly—"

Ever so slowly, the Ninetales lowered his head from Argon's face. Careful not to look, but enough that the message was conveyed.

"You will have to walk, I presume?"

"Probably, y-yeah. Don't quite got these psychic powers mastered, as you can probably tell. Heh, might be months before I finally figured out how to do it consistently, even if my legs heal before then."

In spite of her words, the Sean's head raised. The two wheels on his rear creaked as the Ninetales flared to life, wide eyes and beaming smile the very same from when the guildmaster of old would discover a new valley to explore.

"Well, I wouldn't say that. You have talent, Argon, you simply need a method to bring it out into the open. I could be your instructor in that regard. It'll be just like old times! Somebody with enough knowledge and experience that, in time, I have no doubt you will have enough psychic aptitude to put Uxie himself to shame."

"W-Well, I wouldn't know about that," Argon replied, scratching her neck. "I mean, first of all I… never mind, but second of all, I'm not really sure if it's something the two of us would be able to do. N-Not that I wouldn't appreciate your help, but something like that would probably need an experienced psychic, somebody who's been doing stuff like levitation for years."

Sean simply chuckled, filling the room with his voice as he walked up right before Argon, a knowing smile on his face.

"A practical concern, but you'd be surprised what a retired fox with all the time in the world occupies himself with over the years. Perhaps… a little demonstration is in order."

Argon was given not a second's warning as her father's fur began to glow, surrounding itself in a deep, rose-colored aura. The two wheels at his rear did likewise, filling the room with a soft rumble. Frame and all, they began to buckle. Followed immediately was a slight rasping sound of the assembly moving, of its own fruition, away from Sean. The Raichu was tempted to jump forward and catch her father from falling, but was stopped by his stare, lips smiling as he looked toward the Raichu without a care in the world. With the assembly gone, the Ninetales' flank was suspended freely in the air, psychic aura dissipating to a faint tinge.

"W-What? How did… how can—"

"Simple practice," Sean replied. "That, and a few favors called in from the guild's most experienced psychics to speed up the process. After the first few weeks, I was able to keep this up uninhibited for hours. Wheelchair became more of a public formality than anything after that. With a determined explorer such as yourself? Once you get back from what Eoin needs to show you, I'd estimate you could attain this in half the time."

Finally finding the strength to speak, a deep smile was shared between Raichu and Ninetales. She took hold of the crutches, ambling up to the levitating Ninetales to hold him in a tight embrace.

"Thank you, Dad. Really. I-I'm so sorry I didn't write earlier. Gonna feel great connecting with you guys again."

"Pleasure is all mine, Argon. I have no doubt you'll make your own fate as time goes on, whether in my footsteps, or through your own path."

As the hug continued, Argon felt her tail move from her back, seemingly of its own fruition. Like a magic broom, it lowered itself under her, allowing the Raichu to free her hands and clasp further around the Ninetales. When her eyes open, she saw Sean glancing toward the door, a grin on his face the slightest bit mischievous.

"Now, let's go back to your suitor, shall we? Would be a shame for you to miss the dad talk a former guildmaster can give to that Charmander.
 
Chapter 25: A Model of Efficiency
“In hindsight, I did not do a… particularly good job at hiding my relations, did I, old chum?”

It took a fair amount of willpower Chimera to belay the urge to nod. Binair’s head drooped, glancing toward the photo of the Girafarig, Zoroark, and egg in between. Only the tumultuous groans of the automobile engine sounded as it slowed to a crawl, kicking up bits of dirt and pebbles in the open field of gravel rock adjacent to the sizable manor before them. On instinct, the Bagon raised his hand to shield from the sun before it was obstructed by the jungle canopy, only to let out a defeated sigh upon reminder that the only thing they could reach was his mouth.

Instead, he stared over the Girafarig, as well as the continues entourage of carriages moving past the rear view mirror. His eyes shot open, a tinge of adrenaline running up his spine as a foreign noise sounded from his side. Was he… laughing?

More of a chuckle than anything, a tepid, defeated chuckle that only ambled to something manifesting humor, but a laugh nonetheless. The Bagon lurched over on his seat, finding that a beaming smile had replaced the Girafarig’s earlier melancholy.

“You’re too kind, Chimera, though you don’t have to hold your tongue for my sake. I’m sure my behavior didn’t help, but it was the picture that really gave it away, wasn’t it?”

The Bagon blinked, needing a second to comprehend that Binair’s tone was an invitation, and not a threat. Ever so slowly, Chimera’s heart fluttered, until his own two teeth seemed to flash in the sun, a grin taking up his own lips.

“W-Well, I wasn’t about to suggest that you were the photographer, sir,” Chimera replied. “But… yeah, just give it time, I’m sure she’ll come around. At least if that plan you talked about has any merit.”

Binair gave a slow nod, dip in his head giving the Bagon a complete view of the facility before them. In many ways, it was a dichotomy to the original guild hall. Like the plain dressing, shyer cousin that would rather hide behind a potted plant during a party than show itself to others, the structure as a whole conveyed a more utilitarian feel. While similar in grandiose size, and adorning the same orange tiled roofs, the whole structure was more of a box than anything. Rigid brick columns took the place of marble pillars. Simple glass windows replaced intricately carved outlines of what he had seen. On the left and right of the row of red bricks making up its frontal wall, the Bagon could see plots of well watered soil, suggesting some sort of garden opposite its northern face.

“Yes, yes, thank you, old chum. You’ll be happy to hear that, if everything goes as suggested, it should already be in the works. I can only hope.”

Open setting eyes on the structure, the Girafarig’s posture perked up. A soft click sounded as the aura-lined gear shift went into park. Binair turned, giving the hood of the vehicle a slight tap of his hoofs upon turning to meet Chimera.

“As much as my actions have suggested, I did not bring you all the way here to mope about my own family life. We have a grander purpose here, old chum, one that will hopefully begin with a few questions: How was the progress of your team’s exploration? Were you able to recover the time gear?”

Chimera’s muscles tightened immediately at the question. He put up a smile, careful to look directly to the left of the Girafarig, as not to flinch under his gaze. Again, the question arose of what pokemon was more worth betraying, though its answer was only moderately less clear in the Bagon’s mind. His eyes closed, a brief image flashing of a familiar, grey charmander, adorned with a device of undiscovered power, stumbling with him side by side through blizzard winds. Upon opening, he shifted on his seat to face forward, setting his gaze on the three, omnipresent letters that lined the very top of the building before him. With bated breath, the Bagon couldn’t tell whether his eyes were more comfortable shut or open. He shook his head, turning back to Binair to let out a heavy breath.

“I… no, we didn’t. Got really damn close, was even able to recover it from some powerful pokemon, but one our way back from the mountain we ran into some complications.”

Binair did not say a word, only a faint furrow of his brow showing any change in his expression. The Girafarig took in a deep breath, letting it exhale through his nose. To his credit, the Bagon only flinched a tiny bit at the gesture. A moment passed where neither knew who was supposed to speak first, leaving Chimera to question whether it was anger or disappointment in his eye.

“What sort of complications?”

Again, Chimera’s vocal chords failed. He lowered his gaze, settling it with a slight cringe to the golden badge pinned onto his exploration bag. Were the Bagon’s thoughts running any faster, he would have sworn he was back in a cubicle.

“When we were waiting in an icy cavern just outside the extraction point, me, Argon, and Eoin suddenly came across a… pallid. One that seemed dead set on getting out of that cave with the time gear. It stole Eoin’s bag and started running off. Me and Cerise tried to chase it, even threw myself off a cliff after it did the same, but by the time we regrouped with Eoin… well, let’s just say that the pallid was a bit too smart for us to get it back from. W-We had to get ourselves out of there, would have made our injuries worse if we didn’t. I can’t apologize enough, Sir. Shouldn’t have let the grey bastard out of my sight.”

Only the brown seat leather and his own two legs filled Chimera’s vision. That, and the gold badge, already within the Bagon’s grasp as he began to unbuckle it. Through the exploration, it had lost most of its metallic sheen, now only barely able to reflect his own drooped face. With every second, the question reared its face again, ever probing of whether the color gold or grey was better worth sticking true to. He took a corner of his rain cape in his other hand, finding that one of the corners had been worn to a lighter shade through its use, while the other corner reflected through the badge seemed to have taken a slight rip.

A hoof on the Bagon’s shoulder shot him to attention. He jolted up, finding the Girafarig looking toward him with none of the expected scowl.

“A shame, certainly a setback, but nothing to berate oneself over. On the contrary, I still hold quite a bit of pride in you from that exploration.”

Chimera did not need to ask why, for his face set it all. Only the burdening sun prevented his eyes from widening further as he repinned the badge to its rightful position.

“You showed grit, old chum, all of your team did. Only gold level for a month, and already you undertook an exploration few other teams would. You climbed a mountain, in blistering weather, for a relic you very well might have doubted was even there, all in loyalty to this organization and a desire to complete your mission. True, trials and tribulations might have stolen your success at the last moment, but in your circumstances I would have done the same. You know what I see there, Chimera?”

The Bagon shook his head, only tentatively able to return Binair’s ear to ear grin.

“Potential, old chum. Potential for more, to do more. You need only maintain hard work, dedication, and ambition through the guild, and I can very well see such traits blossoming into a trailblazing career with a steady hand of leadership over others.”

Had the Bagon been the Chimera standing atop the icy harbor, he would have snorted. He had heard the pitch many times before; platitudes, half-truths, and promises that sooner meant all nighters than anything approaching purpose. However, in the Girafarig’s cocksure stare, he saw something else. Something genuine, something that said that the pokemon before him actually gave a damn. Sure, there wasn’t any guarantee that the boulder wasn’t destined to roll down the hill again, but nothing the Bagon had seen had steered him clear yet.

“Damn, I-I’ll keep it in mind. I don’t know what to say.”

“Well then, old chum,” Binair replied, “save your breath, for there are some things in that building I’ve been anxious to show you.”

Chimera nodded, joining the Girafarig’s canter toward the main entrance to the facility. Upon turning back toward their origins, a single thought crossed his mind.

“For an armless giraffe with two heads… you pull off a real nice parallel park.”

---​

Binair seemed to walk with a small skip in his step as he led the Bagon through the facility. In most aspects, it was equally as unassuming as its outside. Only the various storerooms of vegetables and grains were of note as they went to the second floor, along with doors to three buildings. Each was marked ‘domestication’, ‘research’ and ‘analysis’. All blandly labeled, and each guarded by a pair of soldiers held in adjacent barracks. On the former room, Chimera could barely see a large door on the side of its wall, presumably built for ready access by the entourage of carriages moving adjacent to the building.

Upon climbing up the stairs—with some telekinetic assistance from Binair to speed up the process—it was in many ways the same story, in exception to a single door on the end of the hallway, clad with engraved gold carvings and finely carved mahogany that made it the only place in the structure encouraging its own attention.

“And now, Chimera,” Binair side, horns liting up as the door handle did likewise, “before I demonstrate the true reason I brought you here, I figured a little history lesson was in order, courtesy of some exhibits in my personal office. Sound agreeable?”

“No problem, Sir,” Chimera replied, a slight tilt in his head. “You’ve-uh… really gone through a lot of trouble for this. Not that I mind, though.”

The Girafarig gave a small chuckle, handle clicking softly as the door began to open.

“True, true, though with a pokemon with such potential as yourself, I figured you’d be better off learning this from myself than under other circumstances. Besides, I’m sure after recent events we both could use a respite; all the money in the world, after all, is no substitute for some companionship.”

The Bagon’s mouth opened to speak, but was left agape as the full room went into focus. Natural sunlight filtered into the spacious room, cutting through thick, fringed shades that gave only the blurriest appearances of the outside patio. Directly in the center of the room was a boxy, tall desk, nigh the size of a dining table. A tinge of Binair’s horns surrounded some of the disheveled paper splayed out next to the bowl of fruit placed atop the desk. Eight sheets stood on end, reorganizing themselves like they were held by a tidy, ghostly octopus.

Below the marble floors was a large, circular pattern, well alike to the green and gold pattern omnipresent through the badges, flags, and logos of Faire. Upon reorganizing the papers, Binairs horn again glowed, this time surrounding a brown leather office chair stationed behind the desk. While normal upon first appearance, the Bagon quickly noticed that the bottom end of the chair was significantly longer than normal, giving it the bizarre look of a cross between an office chair and the bed for an especially long rottweiler. Chimera looked toward the chair, then toward the Girafarig at his side; when was the last time Binair had ever sat?

The question was left unanswered as the chair rolled towards Chimera, rattling all the while until it was directly before the Bagon.

“Care to take a seat, old chum? Seems like it will fit your size, would be a waste to let it go unfilled.”

The Bagon nodded, setting his crutches on the ample extra space as he clambered on. His last step off the ground was the slightest bit clumsier. From his motion, the chair began to spin in a circle, giving the Bagon only periodic looks at Binair as his own brow furrowed.

“Yeah, ‘preciate the consideration. Though sir, would you mind if I ask you something?”

The chair halted, motion stopped by one of Binair’s hoofs as he shook his head.

“Thanks. Well, i-if you don’t mind me asking, if this is your chair… why does it have a back rest? I mean, you’re a girafarig and all, I just don’t get why it’s necessary.”

The Girafarig blinked, pausing as if he himself needed a moment to answer the question.

“Old habits, I suppose. Could never understand how those of my kind sit the way they do. But anyway, onto our little demonstration.”

Again, the chair spun from the Girafarig’s influence, lurching the Bagon to the side like he was on a roundabout. It stopped upon almost completing a rotation, placing Chimera in plain view of a leftmost mural covering nearly the entirety of the wall.

“A thought provoking sight, isn’t it, old chum? If a drab one.”

Fine brushstrokes of green, red, yellow, and nearly every color in between blended together in a sweeping landscape. Tall grass and natural, undomesticated trees—more so than the Bagon had ever seen prior upon leaving the beach—dotted the exterior. Thatched roof huts went from the bottom up in two distinct rows, while a squalid dirt path lined the space between them. Merely a dozen or so pokemon of varying sizes dotted the road, each laden with glum expressions and stomachs that told of life where a bale of grain shined as brightly as gold. On the left and right of the two rows of houses, were large fields of tilled soil. While speckled with occasional plots of green, the majority of the field seemed lined with little more than the putrid gray of decaying leaves and plant matter.

“Well, it’s not something I’ve ever seen,” Chimera replied. “Money might have been tight where I came from, but you don’t ever really see something like that when your main job is plugging numbers into a spreadsheet.”

“That was the worst of the years,” Binair replied, a slight slump in his step as he made his way next to the mural. “I was still young then, in a manner of speaking, at least. Brimming with energy, and happening upon fellow pokemon that had developed into agriculture only a few years prior. ‘The Starving Time’ they called it, brought upon by pokemon too civilized to eat any meat other than the trickle of aquatic and avian pallids from East Faire, yet too uncivilized to understand the tonalities of crop rotation, fertilization, or parasitic crop infection.”

The Bagon gave a slight nod, scanning over the various features with a hand to his chin. While from a sweeping view, the painting seemed beautiful, further analysis left a chill running up his spine. A monotonous life, one without importance, without variation, where even the various pokemon written in brushstrokes went unnamed. On the very bottom, however, Chimera paused, eyes narrowing. Almost concealed by one of the faded crops was the yellow and brown head of a Girafarig. Infinitely more youthful than the one at his side, yet put to life with an energy again only matched by the smiling Zoroark. Her hand was on his hoof, beckoning him towards lands cut off by the edge of the frame. One second passed, then two, then three, before the memories flashed, and the Bagon’s mind clicked.

“S-Sir?”

Binair nodded, gesturing for him to go on.

“When I was with Cerise on the mountain,” Chimera said, “she outlined her whole scheme and exactly what she wanted to get out of it… what she had lost. That Zoroark, she was your wife, right? Now she’s… my condolences.“

His mouth shut, regretting the words before they had even left his tongue. Again, the Girafarig’s facade cracked. For a moment, his head drooped, both of them, each staring off into a wall with a glazed over expression somewhere else. Before Chimera could say another word, he rallied, returning him a smile somewhere between past assurance and melancholy.

“Ezra, was her name. Sweet, wonderful Ezra. Firebrand of a ‘mon. From her demeanor you’d think she could save the entire world all by herself. Had a knack for legends and lore, too. Was the force that truly fostered my love for the wonderful pokemon of Faire, as well as a driving aspiration for seeing everything that the Eastern region has to offer. I… I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree in that regard.”

Chimera tucked in his arms, staring aimlessly to the floor as an especially morbid question pinged through his conscious. His eyes again drifted to the Zoroark, seeing her gaze point to the water and land beyond, as well as the three, pale grey Murkrow circling above.

How?

“She loved them,” Binair continued. “Every single one. Every single pokemon of Faire regardless of age, background, or appearance, she threw herself in service of. I remember it being infectious as the years went by, until… until…”

He shook his head, tail giving a slight scowl as his horns glowed, and an orange levitated into Chimera’s lap.

“Apologies, apologies. Damn memories catch up to me at the worst times. Care for a snack, old chum? Your team hasn’t eaten since the exploration.”

As if on cue, a heavy growl from Chimera’s stomach corroborated the statement. Without another thought, he began peeling, heedless of any possible blemishes on its surface; why bother when the insides were already so sweet?

“N-No problem, Sir,” he replied. “I-uh… know the feeling. People who can be a ray of sunshine to others, even those that don’t deserve it are a rare find.”

The Girafarig gave a soft ‘hmm’ in response, taking a few steps past the first frame until he was just in front of the second.

“True, though I prefer it best to keep ambitions on the present, even if that apple did fall far. Why don’t we take a look at our second mural? At the very least, those overpaid artists from the institute did their damndest. We should really take a visit there when we have the time, schedule been too busy for an earlier visit?”

Chimera gave a light chuckle, subconsciously reaching for armrests the slightest bit out of reach.

“Well, you see Sir, in my past life, my artistic appreciation was about equal to my talent in it. Unless you want to slather paint onto my forehead and watch me headbutt into a wall for a particularly abstract interpretation of your visage, it’s something better dealt by the professionals.”

The Bagon nearly jumped out of his seat when Binair’s horn glowed, and the handle to a cupboard on the opposite side of the room did likewise. It faded in an instant, leaving only a hint of the paint bottles held within, and Binair’s cheeky smirk.

“Maybe some other day. With some dedication, you might even beat some of the drawings Cerise would send me on business trips during her hatching years. You underestimate yourself. Now… as for the painting, a fine improvement, wouldn’t you say?

Chimera nodded, giving only a slight huff as he analysed the mural. Brushstroke and format wise, it was similar. Same clear sky. Same faint blotch of green in the distance above a sea of blue. While the layout was identical, the contents couldn’t be more different. Where thatched roof had been, brick shingles took their place. Houses were closer together, taller, and infinitely more numerous, stretching out well into where the green had been. Front and center, was an enormous structure that stood out among the rest, adorned with ornate windows, marble pillars, and a courtyard with enough pokemon to easily quadruple the haphazard population of the earlier village.

“Recognize it, old chum? The WFG Guild Hall?”

“Sure do,” Chimera replied, a slight plasticity in his smile as he scratched the back of his neck. “As clear in my head as the paperwork you gotta sign there for missions. Not to mention that time I went to check on Argon after having one too many. Not doin’ that shit again. Looks, I don’t know… newer, I suppose.”

Freshly tiled floors took the place of farmland, while a faint trail of smoke billowed in the background. Pokemon stood before the guild hall, in groups of their own each devoted to a different task. A Decidueye and especially well groomed Dugtrio stood in the shade, serenading a crowd of onlookers while another group was in the background, paintbrushes in hand or claw behind a half filled canvas. Sculptures, poets, seemingly every kind of artist seemed in attendance before the guild hall, all the while a pair of psychic types stood in the background levitating metallic joists for the construction of what the Bagon knew would become the Guild Hall’s western half. On the very top, the balcony where Binair and Chimera had met previous, stood the same Girafarig. Perhaps a few grayer hairs than normal, but not yet equalling what stood before Chimera. While the Girafarig was still smiling, only a hint of the previous energy was there, seemingly as spent as the Donphan below soothing out rolled concrete with… themselves. His tail seemed to sway, pointed towards the mass of green over the sea as if searching for something that would never come.

“Damn,” Chimera said, eyes glazed onto the mantle. “Not too shabby of a sight. How much time did all this take?”

“Well, you see, old chum,” Binair replied. “That’s the beauty of it. In your previous life, you came from a relatively… advanced civilization, wouldn’t you say? How would you describe your time there?”

The Bagon closed his eyes, needing a few moments to even remember that neither the scales that lined his body nor the partner at his side were always his. Ever so slowly, it all started to come back. The putrid grey carpet. The computer that would heat up and freeze so much even then it made him feel a slight urge to jump off a cliff. The claustrophobically tall skyscrapers that served to make him feel smaller everyday.

“In a way, I suppose. Guess it depends on what you call ‘advanced’. I can vomit out a finance report from a computer like clockwork, but I wouldn’t trade it in the world for what I’ve seen here.”

Binair gave a slight chuckle. In the two faces smiling towards him, was a certain empathy Chimera doubted he’d seen before in the Girafarig.

“Time and hardship are a powerful combination, one that can make us make more of the bad in something than the good. Still, there were facets of your world the pokemon from those murals, or even today would consider miracles, correct? Computers? Modern medicine? Infrastructure and transportation that one can go from one side of the world to the next and still have time for brunch?”

The Bagon bit his lip, for once feeling the claustrophobia of the office fading. Recollections dawned of thin instruments of metal and glass that gave him the world at his fingertips. Where the common cold was that and, even in its deepest drudgery, he always knew where his next meal would come from.

“Yeah, we did… never really gave it too much thought until now. Was something we all just accepted. Even if shit had to be sacrificed for it, it never bothered too many people when the next luxury was a paycheck away.”

“And at that,” Binair replied, “we appear to have come at a crossroads. When I first entered my world, pokemon were given time to develop magnificent infrastructure and breathtaking culture, yet were too preoccupied with the quest of maintaining food and basic shelter. When you first entered your world, the modern luxuries of technological progress were already apparent, yet at the cost of many drudgery filled positions that endeavoring beings such as yourself had to undertake. A wasteful prospect, wouldn’t you say? On both fronts?”

Chimera nodded slowly. His eyes narrowed at the Girafarig’s words and tone, yet his mind maintained no readily apparent counter.

“Makes sense. I assume you were the mastermind behind all this then. You can’t just snap your hoofs and make railroads and factories appear out of thin air, at least if you’re not Jirachi and this isn’t some elaborate prank. Question is, if you truly are aiming to replicate my world, you’ll be shooting for one where schmucks like me work a hundred hours a week to not end up on the streets. Yet everywhere I’ve gone there’s been this greater sense of… hope, of luxury. What have you done differently? How are you sure it’ll even be different?”

Binair simply smiled, motioning the Bagon to his feet, and ambling towards a door leading into the outside patio. Along the way, the Girafarig’s horns glowed, this time opening another cabinet to levitate a small device. It was well worn, about the size of a mouse trap, and with a similar design. Two painted, metallic Rampardos figurines sat on opposite ends of its wooden platform, facing each other. The one on the left was particularly well polished, holding in its claws a wooden barrel with a small slot carved into its top. The one on the right, by comparison, was much more worn, and attached to a tensioned lever that would carry it through the air towards the former. Most of the paint seemed to have been chipped off its head and body, leaving only a silvery, grep texture left. Its claws were clasped together, gap between insinuating they were meant to hold something. After a second of thought, the Bagon tilted his head, letting out a slight chuckle; since when had Binair ever been a penny pincher?

“I asked myself the same question, when I was still the naive Girafarig in that earlier mural. Though on the contrary, old chum, I never designed to replicate such a world, my intention was to combine the best aspects of both. In those earlier years, it seemed like an insurmountable task, but with the power of knowledge, and after some… peculiar inspiration through my explorations, I had it all planned out.”

Binair’s wallet floated into the air, giving only a brief glimpse of the picture inside before a gold coin popped out. It, along with the mechanical Rampardos piggy bank, levitated before Chimera. The coin gave a brief spin on its axis like it had been spun on a table, before placing itself in the gap in the faded Rampardos’ arms. Chimera blinked, looking between Binair and the device before returning the Girafarig’s smile.

“Givin’ me my Christmas bonus this soon, sir? I’m flattered, though it’s a little early, don’t you think?.”

“Some training and experience in leadership,” Binair replied, “and there will be far more where this came from. The pokemon of that village were just as curious when they were introduced to the gold of industry. As the bricks were laid, the locomotives built, and the resources collected from mystery dungeons, a part of me feared that I would never live to see the true culmination of the fruits of their labor, nor provide the time and opportunity for the true culture and lifestyle that made Faire the envy of the world.”

Binair took a position next to the door, Chimera taking it as a cue to do likewise. From his saddle, the Girafarig’s cane levitated, placing its end just under the bottom of the door handle, ready to open at a moments notice.

“So… how did you do it?” Chimera asked. “Whole process in my world took millennium. I-If you don’t mind me saying, Sir, it’s hard to see how you could pull it all off in twenty years..”

Binair paused, letting out a deep breath as his gaze settled between Chimera, the door, and the two Rampardos facing each other on the toy. His hoofs tapped, smile wavering for a millisecond as the rare yet familiar sign of bated breaths, and his tail looking everywhere in the room but towards them.

“Chimera, old chum, I’m sure you know as well as I do that every rose has its thorns. In building up a world of leisure and consumerism, the tale is no different. As time marches on, and worlds progress, would it be fair to say that there will inevitably be those who are saddled with the burdensome positions? Those who become too inundated with the arduous yet necessary tasks to enjoy the culture that such a civilized world bears?”

The Bagon lowered his head, as if needing a second of contemplation. In truth, however, the answer had popped into his head immediately. It was familiar, after all. The boulder. The monotonous and sometimes dangerous task carried out for hours and hours on end due to having no conceivable alternative.

“Y-Yeah, no doubt. Back where I was from, it seemed like you could find it almost everywhere you went. Somewhere in the world, there was always someone who had to be sacrificed for the grunt work.”

“Suffering was an omnipresence,” Binair replied, giving a solemn nod. “I’m sure you could probably tell by now, old chum, but I am a historian. Though, in my line of work, study and business usually become intertwined. Through my quest to build up Faire, I searched desperately for a way that the wonderful pokemon that inhabited it could avoid the worst of the necessary drudgery and danger. Upon analysis of nearly every civilization I had knowledge of, however, it seemed unavoidable. Did you know that at the time of that first mural, villagers such as that one required ninety percent of its occupants to devote their time solely to agriculture? To casting away their very ambitions of creating a better future simply to not starve?”

Chimera shook his head, vision settling between the plows and scythes of the first mural, against the chisels, paintbrushes, and screwdrivers of the other. He looked back to Binair, a slight furrow in his brow.

“Can’t say I have, sir. Never really gave much thought to it. If you don’t mind me clarifying though… what exactly are you getting at?”

“What I am getting at,” Binair replied, voice beaming, “is that in my further analysis of Eastern Faire, of the rock and grass around and below this very building that we stand upon, I came across an epiphany that would lift that burden off of Faire’s pokemon. The worst of the dangers. The tedious task of agriculture. The greatest of hardships. All allowing its residents to continue the construction of the architecture, industry, and fine arts that marked a region of prosperity, to truly become the arbiters of their own destiny.”

Binair drew closer to the door, cane under its handle raising ever so slightly as his voice took on a boisterous tone. Feet straight. Both heads raised high. Had the Girafarig been any more vibrant, all he would be missing was a podium. Though at the very least, he was content with his sole audience. With heavy breaths, he paused, before lowering his gaze from the endless sky over the roof. A second of silence passed, then another, then another until the Girafarig settled. He locked eyes with the Bagon, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips upon finding a quint smile looking back at him.

“Apologies, old chum. I… did not come here to bore you with my rhetoric, either.”

“Eh,” Chimera replied, “I’ve seen worse. You’ve got more energy than any of the presentations I’ve been to. Makes sense, too. First job I’ve been in where there’s something actually worth fighting for. No need to keep buttering me up though, Sir. That epiphany, it’s here, right? Might as well get down to brass tacks and see it.”

Binair’s eyes closed, a smile slowly taking to his lips as he let out a deep exhale. The toy bank floating before the Bagon lowered, gingerly placing itself in Chimera’s arms.

“I… yes. We’ve delayed long enough in that regard. I simply thought you would be able to achieve your aspirations better if you saw it from me firsthand. Before we do so, however, I would like to propose a simple promise.”

Binair approached, watching with a slight grin as the Bagon ran his hands over the device, finding a spring loaded button keeping the grey Rampardos with coin in hands in place. The Bagon looked up, raising his posture the slightest bit upon seeing the Girafarig’s hoof raised before him, mimicking the same familiar gesture that had first set him off on his exploration.

“I require no oath of loyalty,” Binair continued, “rather, simply that you pursue any career through this guild with an open mind. A willingness to learn. A drive to understand the reasons for why everything works the way it does and avoid hasty conclusions. Today will mark the start of such a venture, in essence. Does this sound agreeable?”

Chimera bit his lip, casting a quick glance between Binair, and the Girafarig-sized chair just a few feet away. In his tour, it had been a strange fit, yet one a part of the Bagon couldn’t deny he could get used to; the thing, after all, had plentiful legroom. Without another second of hesitation, he nodded, leaning in to meet Binair’s hoof with his hand.

“No doubt. You have my word. I guess… time to start that new beginning?”

Binair nodded, meeting the Bagon’s eyes with an appreciation he could scarcely remember on either worlds. A soft click sounded as the cane lifted, letting blinds part and light to flood in from the porch. Another similar ping went through the air as Chimera pressed the button. The spring-loaded, grey Ramparods shot forward across the base plate, depositing its coin safely and efficiently into the barrel.

“Well, old chum, how does it look? Suffering is a blight, but in growing the fruits of progress, what good would come in letting the pith rot in the dirt?”

Chimera did not respond, eyes wide and staring off into the miles upon miles of farmland that stretched into the distance. Roots, berries, seeds, every single food or vegetable imaginable seemed tilled into the soil. Continuous sunlight stretched down onto the fields, reflecting against long, angular lines of barbed wire set around the field’s perimeter like a cattleman’s fence. High cedar towers dotted each corner, each garrisoned with a pokemon looking downward with the watchfulness of a battement sentry. However, in the grand scheme, their numbers were few, dwarfed by a crowd stationed on the inside of the fields, and watched with a careful eye by the pokemon above. A heaviness filled the Bagon’s chest, swirling through his body every which way upon realization.

They were pallids. They worked the fields with plows, hoes and scythes in hand staring down towards either the ground or crops. Glazed over stares suggested they knew little else existed. Chimera turned toward Binair, meeting the Girafarig’s eyes with a quiver in his arms, and a slacked jaw in limbo between horror and awe. His eyes shut, a sobering voice telling him that for all of the efficiency of the process, there was another, much greyer pokemon who would see things differently.
 
Author’s note: Hello all! I can’t apologize enough for the delay. Real life factors and fluctuating motivation have made things a bit challenging, but I’m glad to say right now that I’m back in the game. Also, for what it’s worth, I’d recommend checking out the oneshot I posted in the meantime called ‘750P an Hour’. Anyway, thank you for your patience, and I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Chapter 26: le Pâle
There was no going back now.

They pressed on, through every step of thick, uncharted jungle canopy. Through every jump over rocks and crevices that bore into the Charmander's feet like rain drops on a cool summer day. And through every quickened glance back to the Raichu at his flank, the Pallid's heart grew heavier. They had been going at it for almost an hour now, yet every minute seemed to stumble on for days. He could almost see it now: That small, unassuming river where light cut through the canopy. For a moment, he let his eyes glaze over as he stared back over the ground that they had crossed. Unfettered. Picturesque. Free. His feet shifted, straying a few degrees off his forward path meeting Argon's gaze.

"How are you holding up?" he asked. "Again, I apologize for dragging you out here at such an impromptu time. I-It's just… I believed it was best I show you as soon as possible, before the eventual monsoon makes the path unnavigable."

With only a few weary breaths, Argon returned a smile to the Charmander. Her posture straightened, tail levitating under her buckling only the slightest bit.

"I-I've been through worse; Dad did say treating the mind like a muscle was the first step to doing this consistently. If I'm being honest, though, I'm a bit more worried about whatever it is you're showing me. You haven't said a lot once we set out. This… it's been a long time coming, hasn't it?"

The Pallid gave a slow nod, making an about-face as he turned to face her. It wasn't too late to turn back now, was it? A sharp breeze rattled across the leaves as, for a brief second, he stared into her eyes. Eoin could almost see himself on some tranquil beach, pure white pupils taking the place of a tropical sunset on a small corner of the world simple and free. With a mind of their own, his foot picked up. It was just about to take a step forward, towards the Raichu, and opposite his original footprints when the Pallid froze. He shook his head, feet instead slowly shifting to turn him back to the road ahead.

"Yes, very much so. Make no mistake, I value the kinship that we formed in each other's company tremendously, but there was another reason I came to you. That group, the one I informed you of before, let's just say it found its origins past these palm trees. I would like to make an argument for the justness of our cause before any pokemon you see past these trees can convince you otherwise. You deserve to know; they've done an excellent job covering it up otherwise."

"They?" Argon replied, head tilting to the side as the whistling wind swirled every which way through the trees. "Please Eoin, I need to know. Why the secrecy? What could he so terrible that you needed to show me firsthand?"

The Pallid bit his lip, spotting the answer to the Raichu's question not a few yards away, in the form of a thick wall of brush at the forest's end that need only be parted. They were here. As the chilling wind ran up Eoin's spine and flickered against his tail, he couldn't tell whether it was feeding his flame to an inferno or turning it to ash.

Just before the veil of brush, Eoin stopped. Argon followed likewise, expression no less incredulous. Her ears perked us as the Pallid laid his hand on a particularly dense set of palm leaves, only thin speckles of brown, green, and grey in the distance filtering through the cracks.

"Argon, you've been working with the guild for a pretty long period, correct? Four years, or so?"

The Raichu's nose crinkled, eyes widening as a few of the dots began to connect.

"Y-Yeah, about that number. Couldn't refuse when I saw the advertisements back home; Seemed like a way for a fresh start back then. Don't really have many complaints since I've been here. The pay is good, hours are decent. You won't find friendlier pokemon. O-Only real trouble I had was when they started offering me promotions, ironically. Well, that and the mess of paperwork you gotta do at the end of the month."

She raised a paw, shielding her eyes from the ray of sunlight that pierced through the canopy shade. Back and forth, her gaze shifted. First to Eoin's face, and then the small hand grasped around the bocage like a tepid judge holding a gavel.

"Never questioned it, really. Never had a reason to. T-Though a lot has changed in the past few months. I found out those stories about the humans have a grain of truth to them, even that the time gears and legendaries exist, a-and… that the grey pokemon I fought every day like clockwork actually have the capability to be sapient. Kind, caring… curious about the world around them. So much that I've been willingly ignorant to ... if there's one more thing I've been missing, I'd be a fool to not want to see it now. N-No more reason to beat around the bush, I suppose."

From the way the Pallid flinched, one would think he almost hadn't wanted to hear those words. Almost. One final moment passed as the two shared a look, tail flame blazing in the breeze as Argon's own cheeks sparked in resolution.

"Yes, would do no 'mon any benefit to delay it further. Thank you for your trust, Argon. I hope in the upcoming weeks I will be able to repay it. This was the same spot, I believe. The same place that wide-eyed Charmander stood when I parted these leaves. With any luck, you nor I won't be the only pokemon to do likewise."

Initially, the Raichu squinted, as Eoin pulled the brush away and the shade covering her made its retreat. Blue eyes opened slightly as she spotted a thin yet deep river not a few feet in front of them on the other side. More leaves parted, revealing an almost endless expanse of farmland across the river. Still, Argon remained silent, muscles tensed in preparation for something. Thoughts swam to and fro through her conscious, each proposing a different theory for what she'd see past the farmland. For a half second, the Raichu almost thought she was prepared for the worst, until she saw it.

Guard towers. Barbed Wire. Tools. A ramshackle collection of cabins and canvas tents in the center. But most of all, Pallids. Crowds of them. The Raichu's jaw dropped, mind needing an excess amount of concentration to not fall off of her tail right then and there.

"O-Oh, Arceus…"

She looked up, towards a guard tower overlooking the land between the treeline and the shacks. Sitting on the guard tower, with glazed over eyes, was a Deerling. Her head craned up and down, in a near constant struggle to see how many pages she could read of the book at her side before having to look back down at the Pallids below. From the Deerling's complection, she seemed barely a year's difference from herself. Moreover, the Raichu gasped, spotting on the Deerling an especially familiar badge. A slightly different design, a slightly different designation, but with a pattern so verbatim she dared not look at her own bag.

"I cannot apologize enough that you had to see this Argon," Eoin said, matching the Raichu's remorse as he traced her vision. "If there is a silver lining though, I hope at least that this will serve as a decent enough explanation for the struggle and strife I instigated by suggesting that exploration."

Argon's mouth opened to respond, yet her mind was not cooperative enough to complete the gesture. She stared on, vision settling on crowds of gloomy, yet undeniably sentient Pallids scattered across the fields. A single stood out among many.

A Stoutland. Large. Imposing even, with dull, grey coat of fur that shined in the wind despite its lean stature. There wasn't a single pallid among the crowd that Argon wouldn't call lean, all moving through the fields as if walking through a haze, with limbs and bellies so gaunt it was hard to imagine them tending to vibrant rows of crops and berries. Yet there they were.

Closer inspection only made the Raichu's legs feel more numb; scars and burns lined the Stoutland in particular, with Argon unable to tell whether their source was chemical or fire. A horrific cringe took to Argon's face, in no small part caused by the Stoutland's front right paw, where only sickly scars appeared where two of his toes should have been. Still, there was a sense of life to the way the Stoutland moved through the field with a steel plow strapped to his frame. The vigor of a persian ready to pounce, concealed beneath an endlessly waiting stare towards the ground. A small dart of the Stoutland's eye made Argon flinch, before its gaze returned ahead, and it went back to its business.

"W-Why?" she asked, unable to move her neck. "Why do this? What purpose could this possibly have? How could you justify something like this?"

"I… wish I could answer that," Eoin replied. "The Pallids on the inside have their own opinions on the matter, I believe it would be prudent to show you their perspective of this malignant operation. In short, as far as I can ascertain, the majority of Faire's produce comes from these farms. What Pallids that are not slaughtered for meat are taken here, given the bare minimum education required to communicate and perform manual labor, then put to work here, until their usefulness wears out."

The Raichu forced her eyes shut. Her thoughts jumbled in one final attempt at making sense out of the senseless. She turned to Eoin, vision glazing over as memory after memory took their place.

"I-I've talked to some of the soldiers stationed at the mainland a couple times. They always seemed friendly enough, always said it was classified what they were doing in the mainland though. I… Arceus, I've missed so much. I always knew vaguely where they got the meat from, but this... "

The Pallid said nothing, posture slumping as his tail drooped in tandem with Argon's ears. He looked to her, then to the ramshackle huts in the middle of the field. The Raichu didn't need to be a psychic to catch his connotation. She shook her head, blinking rapidly as she gave a few deep, preparatory breaths.

"R-Right. Thank you, Eoin, for showing me this. W-We have to… I have to go deeper into this. There can't be another 'mon who goes about their life as ignorant as I was to suffering. If I'm gonna do one thing in my life, this is gonna be it."

The wind grew slightly less weary, letting Raichu and Charmander settle as a tepid, yet mutual smile grew between them.

"I appreciate it, Argon. Even when we first met, you showed me you wouldn't succumb to anger or fear in the unknown. The path ahead will be difficult, I have no doubt there will be losses one way or another, but I have hope that we shall prevail, together. Some day where we can have that night on the beach without something like this existing."

The air seemed to shift in that moment, causing a deep feeling of warmth in the two pokemon that couldn't help but extend to their cheeks. Their feet grew light, goaded by a desire to step forward, until another breeze went through the treeline, scattering loose leaves and directing their vision back to the field.

"R-Right," Eoin said, feet shuffling as he readjusted his goggles.

The Raichu gave an equally bated nod, glancing between the row of sheds and guard tower strategically placed between it and the treeline. The Deerling had taken to fiddling with the amber flower overtop her head, yet still seemed alert enough that spotting a Raichu and Charmander running through an empty crop field would be just cause to ring the overtop bell hanging from the tower.

"Is there any way we can get inside?" Argon asked. "This is probably the most restricted place on the whole island. Even if I were to show them my badge, t-they'd probably still kick us out. Or worse…"

The Charmander let out a heavy sigh at her question, clutching his tail in a nearly instinctual reaction. He turned back, settling his gaze on the moderately flowing river just past the tree line. Its water was clear as day, doing little to hide the wide, rusting pipe a few feet above the riverbed.

"Yes… there is. Isn't the most pleasant sensation, but nothing to panic about if it is done quickly. I-I'd rather not force it upon you if you'd prefer. At the very least, it is a fair amount cleaner than when I first used it for a concealed entrance. The Pallids on the inside have been very courteous in that regard."

She looked to the Charmander, then to the river, then to the pipe. It was small in diameter, barely big enough to fit a pokemon such as Eoin or herself. It was hard to tell the exact amount of water flowing out of the underwater pipe, but she saw well enough the slight tinge that was somewhat… discolored. When she turned back to Eoin, the Pallid couldn't help but flinch.

"Again, if you would rather—"

"H-Honestly Eoin," she said, turning away to hide the slight quiver in her neck, "I'm more worried about you going through this. Definitely isn't easy for a fire type. And the mess… don't worry about it. If those Pallids can spend every day working under the sun, the least I can do is get a little dirty in the process of helping them."

The Pallid's eyes widened the slightest bit. He looked to the river, then to her, still clutching his tail as he saw not a single change in her demeanor.

"Right then. I… we appreciate the sacrifice."

The two of them moved forward, now on the edge of the lake with only a few large leaves to conceal their forms from the guard tower. Eoin took to his knee, gaze locked on the pipe a few feet below the waterline. He dipped his hand into the water, nose crinkling as it swished passed his hand at a healthy rate.

"Eoin?"

He glanced back, finding Argon's paw on his shoulder.

"Are you gonna be alright with this? I've seen firsthand how painful it can get when you have to deal with water."

"It's… nothing to worry about," Eoin replied. "This is the worst part of the whole endeavor, but I've done it many times before. In a twisted sense, I think that whole bout with Chimera under the cave might have made this easier the first time I did it; pokemon often fear the bad they're ignorant of far worse than that they know."

He dipped his head, taking three deep breaths as his tail blame started to wither in size.

"I'll see you on the other side.. Make sure to compensate for the current, and get to the air pockets in the tunnel before the worst happens. I'll be with you every step of the way. Now… "

Without another word, the Pallid dived in, leaving a wisp of steam as his tail submerged. A trail of bubbles soon followed, each one causing Argon's muscles to tense further as she looked over the bank. With a similar deep breath, she soon followed. Initially, the Raichu had a slower pace than Eoin, paws having to do most of the work in place of her legs. Glancing behind her, however, to her tail, the Raichu's ears perked up. She closed her eyes, tail once again moving on its own as it swished up and down behind her like a rudder. Soon enough, she was able to feel her way into the pipe. It was a tight fit, one that forced her into an impromptu army crawl through the flowing water, but after the first few feet the water leveled off, leaving a pocket of air just big enough to catch her breath.

"Eoin," she said, hacking out the stray drops of water in her mouth, "you there?"

It was pitch black. She blinked, and blinked again, waiting for her vision to adjust enough to see more than one foot ahead of her. For a half second, adrenaline shot up the Raichu's spine. Her breaths quickened, eyes scanning anxiously for a candle flame that wasn't there.

"Y-Yes," Eoin replied. "Discomforted. V-Very discomforted, but comparatively in good spirits. You?"

"I'm fine. I-It's just… you had me worried for a bit. Forgot that your tail flame doesn't actually make any light."

A moment passed where both could only hear the echoing thud of paws and claws against cylindrical metal, as well as the occasional splat that arceus knew neither would question.

"Ah yes, apologies. I sometimes forget the abnormality of it. Still, it is likely for the best at this point; I'm sure neither you nor I want to know what we're crawling through right now."

The Pallid turned back to the front, expecting silence, only for his head to jump up as a slight chuckle echoed through the tunnel.

"Are you alright, Argon?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, another small giggle leaving her maw. "It's just… I guess this is a time where the unfortunate things we can see are worse than what we can't."

A half second of silence passed as the Raichu's laughter faded. She bit her lip, eyes closing in an instinctive cringe as its last echoes traveled through the pipe. The last reverberation had nearly faded, when another chuckle picked up where it had left off. Argon's ears twitched, slightly unexpecting of the source.

"Yeah," Eoin said, his voice lighthearted in an almost foreign manner to the last couple hours, "I suppose it is. I-I… apologize. I am willing to bet this wasn't what you had in mind for a first date; Crawling through muck and infiltrating a guild domestication camp probably are not your vision of a good time."

Argon froze as the Charmander finished the sentence, needing a few seconds to rally and recover the brief bit of levity they had found in the muck. She shook her head, plugging her nose to give a few deep breaths.

"W-Well, it's not the worst, if it's any consolation," Argon replied. "I've had times when I had to make small talk at a couple mandatory celebrations back in the day. If I had the option, I'd have gone through a sewage pipe in a heartbeat to go back home. Never really had a party I enjoyed, at least until I met you. I-If you have any doubts, I'd rather be here sorting through all this side by side than spending another second with how things were before."

Were the Raichu to listen closely though the blackened silence, she would hear the Pallid's flame wisp in something akin to a gasp.

"I-I… thank you. I can assure you that the feeling is mutual. It feels nice, having somemon to ground me through all this. In a sense, perhaps prevailing together in the road ahead will do us just as much good as any night on the beach… even if seawater requires less olfactory fatigue."

Argon gave a soft hum, ratio of air over arceus-knows-what becoming ever more favorable as the two proceeded down the tunnel. Soon enough, Argon was able to spot a small illumination in the distance over Eoin's shoulder, one that grew ever larger until coming into focus as a beam of sunlight filtering from above. Smell ever pungent, the Raichu had a few suspicions over where it was coming from.

Now just below the ray of light, the claustrophobic conditions of the tunnel leveled into a near vertical ascent. It took more than a few tries for Raichu and Charmander to climb up the crumbling rock—former using her tail to balance against the crevice in lieu of her feet—but before long Eoin was able to tilt up the metallic latrine seat that made up the tunnel's makeshift entrance. After a quick check of his surroundings to confirm that the coast was clear, the Charmander scrambled out of the latrine, before holding his arm down to Argon to help her do likewise. The dip had done well to wash off what dye remained on Eoin's scales, returning him to his grey hue.

Even Argon's stained fur from the crawl could do little to prepare her for the squalor. It was more of a shed than anything, with dilapidated plank roofing and walls with copious gaps from the less than ideal craftsmanship. The stacked beds lining the walls were for all purposes shelves, made of various sizes to accommodate different pokemon with not a mattress to be seen. The flooring itself was a creaky thing; Boards jutted out like splinters in a log. Slowly, she levitated to the side of the door, running her paw against a simple wooden sign marked 'Housing Unit 24-60(1)'.

From the solitary window, the uniforms structures were repeated. The actual living area built on the fields seemed a very condensed thing. WIth rows upon rows of vegetables, berries, and assorted fruits in various states of growth dotting most of the land, it seemed the pallids had taken to building up. Creaking ladders and stairs lined the narrow streets of the condensed sheds, with shingles held on like splinters attached to log frames seemingly salvaged from the surrounding areas.

"It may not look like much," Eoin said, walking to her side with similar wary glances through the window, "but this is our base of operations. Me and a few dozen other pallids have banded together in the past month under the noses of the WFG, with the end goal of freeing those that reside here, and garnering a respect for our natural rights. More or less all the pallids are out working at this time of day, but soon I hope to introduce you to—"

Something roared. A piercing growl sent Argon's fur on end, forcing her gaze to a crack in the wall towards the noise. Eoin could only watch with a flickering flame as Argon peeked through the crack, not a single word leaving her maw.

"What do you see?" Eoin asked. "An injury, perhaps? They can be dishearteningly common around here."

"N-No," Argon replied, head pressing further against the wall for a better view. "Might be not as bad… might be worse."

In an instant, Eoin was also to the wall. The Pallid took off his goggles, grey pupils shrinking as the sunlight filtering from outside hit him.

A dozen or so yards outside of the cabin stood a Mightyena on the crop fields. What fur would have been black on its pallid coat was colored a deeper grey. Its nose twitched with the scowl of a pokemon primed to pounce. Cast off to its side were torn up remains of a steel plow and saddle that appeared fitted to its size. From the Mightyena's comparatively healthy bone structure and normal amount of body fat, it seemed of the younger variety than the surrounding pallids. It gave a hasty kick to the disheveled remains of the harness, piercing stare unwavering from the quivering Deerling giving the pallid a few feet's berth. The Deerling glanced ever faster between the harness and pallid, every sudden jerk of the creature causing her a similar flinch.

"Break," the Mightyena said. "Break, break, break."

"L-Look," the Deerling replied, flower drooping as her posture turned smaller by the second, "I know the days have been long, b-but we all have to make sure the quota are completed. If this soil doesn't get tilled by the end of the week, then the Pokemon above me at the guild will be forced to—"

It let out another snarl, before making an about-face and planting its rear on the harness. The Deerling could only watch, frozen with her jaw to the floor as the three letters stamped on the harness were covered by a particularly large load of droppings. Satisfied with its work, the Mightyena turned back, maw taking to a pouty grin.

"I… I-I—"

Before long, the Mightyena wasn't alone. A familiar Stoutland stood at its flank, fur blowing in the breeze as it eyes beamed into the Deerling's soul. It was nearly twice the size of the pokemon, it spite of its lean stature. It planted its feet down, single toe on one limb digging into the soil. Without saying a word, it stepped in between the Mightyena and Deerling, before leaning to the side to let the stack of heavy logs atop its back fall to the ground. The timber toppled over each other, sending a clatter through the fields. At the sight, Argon could barely hear Eoin mumble a single sentence.

"Poilu… I hope you know what you're doing."

"Something the matter, Ms.?" the Stoutland said, voice gruff and deep.

He leaned forward, casting a shadow over the Deerling. Her feet threatened to collapse as she looked between the Mightyena and plow, badge tied around her neck losing its shine at the newfound darkness. Inch by inch, her feet wavered under the stare, retreating to take a step back.

"Flora!"

Even Argon jumped at the voice. She scanned through the fields, finding its source to be one of the guard towers at intervals dividing the sections of land into neat quadrants. From the garrisoning sceptile's imposing stature, it seemed one of many patrolling pokemon ever vigilant for signs of provocation.

"Y-Yeah?" the Deerling replied.

"You're not gonna last long here if you let them walk all over you. We all got work to do, and the fact of the matter working this position is that you have to remember what they'll respond to. Remember your training, or they aren't gonna give you shit. Besides, a little example could do well for the pallids like that Mightyena fresh out of domestication. Understood?"

Though Argon winced at the wording, Eoin seemed undisturbed. A second passed where the wind ran through the fields, rustling the crops and fur of the three pokemon, as well as the small crowd of pallids that had gathered around the perimeter of the scene, looks a mix of curiosity and scowls. Glancing over at Eoin, the Charmander had already taken off his goggles and tail cover in preparation, making him appear little different from the pallids outside.

As the words sank in, Flora forced her gaze back up to meet Poilu's. The slight jitter in the Deerling's feet were still present, but the hoof about to step back dug itself into the ground. She stepped out of its shadow, guild badge shining in the sun as she met the Mightyena's challenging glare.

"A-Alright then… so that's how it has to be."

The Deerling reached into her saddlebag with her mouth, retrieving a jacketed book emblazoned with the same three letters. She let it fall to the floor, before shoving it in the Mightyena's direction with a newfound forcefulness.

"E-Every pallid in this camp is responsible for reimbursing the education they have received, maintaining a reasonable level of respect for the pokemon around them, and doing everything in their power to keep a steady level of production in the best interests of Faire's populace—"

The soft creaking of the floorboards alerted Argon to Eoin moving just outside of the door. His hand was to the handle, muscles shaking to a degree previously unseen in the Pallid. As his grey pupils widened, she found the jittering contagious.

"I can very well see where this is going," Eoin said, door opening with a soft creak. "I'll try my best to intervene. Please, stay here. Keeping you present will do more in the coming months for our aspirations than any damaged plow."

The stream of questions on the tip of Argon's tongue faltered upon meeting the Charmander's restless eyes. After a moment of silence, the Raichu nodded, Eoin doing likewise before running out of the door.

"—I-In damaging this property," Flora continued, previously tepid voice gaining ground with every word, "you have stated your intentions regarding yourself and the pallids around you as being disrespectful of the WFG and the resources it has allocated."

The Deerling picked herself up, walking in a small circle around the Mightyena and Stoutland, and in the process meeting the eyes of every single pallid that had gathered into the surrounding crowd. Her statements sounded as well rehearsed to Argon as any guild motto the Raichu had recited.

"As such, in accordance with the regulations explained to you at the end of your domestication training, we will have no choice but to halve the daily rations provided for your work sector for the next thirty days. Effective immediately."

Flora's words echoed through the open fields, absolute silence overtaking the previously faint growls and mumblings. A few turned their scowls to the Deerling, while some brought it to bear on the Mightyena as, one by one, they began to take a step inward. The majority of the pallids, however, looked to the Stoutland. With grey paws, vines, and flippers alike clutching gaunt chests and lean limbs, they gazed on, lost for an answer. The Mightynea had curled into a small bundle under the looks it received, tail once raised in the air tucked between its legs.

With all eyes on the Stoutland, he let out a low, hoarse breath, before looking to the right and left through the crowd. Poilu's leftmost paw kicked into the dirt, single toe bringing up bits of soil. As the wind rustled through the field, he took a step towards Flora. A log under his paw splintered in the process. Finding the Deerling unwavered, he cleared his throat.

"That's the way things are today, isn't it? Gettin' up, plowing soil that we'll never use, makin' food that we'll never eat. All for them."

He gestured around, those surrounding tracing his craning neck to the various guard towers and fencing in the distance. Beyond the stacked barracks, a crew of pallid blastoise, vaporeon, golduck and the like were spurting water across the acres of crops with a single guard in tow. A similarly grey pancham sat in a makeshift cooking station under the shadow of the Guild Hall. Besides the dented pots were canvas bags of grain and leftover vegetables that could, in generous terms, account for about one modest meal per pallid. Last target of his glare being the Deerling, Flora's posture wavered the slightest bit. Piolu let out a raspy chuckle, voice raising to equal her own.

"Well, I've been haulin', plowin', and plantin' here for a long time now, and you know something I've learned? When your belly starts to ache, the hunger pains set in, and your paws looking for somemon to point to—"

Eyes narrowing, the Stoutland's voice lowered two octaves.

"—point it at the one responsible."

"Wait!"

All at once, the low rumblings from the crowd drew to a halt. A grey Ivysaur withdrew its vines as Eoin came into view, while a similar Flaffy loosened its grip on the sickle in its hand. The sea of pallids parted to let the Charmander though, letting him step in between Piolu and Flora. At the slight irritation in the Stoutland's glare, Eoin gestured with his head to a Jolteon in the crowd lean enough that the tightened straps on its harness dangled loose. Piolu hesitated for only a moment, before raising his own mangled paw to the rows of guard towers and barbed wire in the distance. Though the crowd seemed to cast a nearly equal gaze on both pokemon, Piolu was the first to take a step back, giving a short huff as Eoin turned to Flora. The Deerling tilted her head at the sight, nose twitching at the slightly rancid smell from the Charmander's scales.

"Please," Eoin said, squinting as if under an imaginary spotlight. "We meant no offense. I can assure you that we want the relationship between pokemon and pallids alike to be a favorable one. I-It's just… there are some sources of discontentment we could bring up to you, in a civilized manner of course."

Whether from the memories of surrounding snarls still echoing through her ears, the Mightyena curling ever more into itself from her occasional glances, or the excrement covered saddle still at its side, Flora's stance was unwavering. Her hoof was planted before the logo emblazoned cover, as if it were the only thing that would keep her trepidations from returning. From her silence, Eoin let out a deep breath, a slight tremor taking to his tone.

"But that can wait. The fact of the matter is that there are living, thinking beings here that will die if their rations are cut. For as long as the status quo across Faire remains, I shall do everything in my power to assist you in keeping relations amicable, but I implore that in return our existence is continued."

A harsh gust of wind ran through the fields, rustling the crops and causing the Deerling to briefly lose her grip on the book. Its cover flipped over, pages shuffling in the breeze before she was able to close it. Something in Flora seemed to short-circuit hearing the Charmander's words. She blinked, then blinked again, as if to clarify that the ember fighting against the breeze was in fact grey. The convey of tarp-covered carts in the distance continued, and were it not for the draft their growls would have carried over, but that seemed neither of their focus.

"M-My hoovess are tied," she said, "they broke the rules, they have to face the consequences. I can't—"

"We'll return to work," Eoin said, irises growing wide, "I'll have the saddle and plow washed, myself. You can have it on record that the issue has been , from one being to another, this doesn't have to end in death."

Flora was not the only one turned to silence. Piolu let out a slight groan, patting the Mightyena on its back. While many of the pallids still held a look at the Deerling sharp enough to kill, none said a word of objection. The Deerling looked to Eoin, then back to the guard tower, finding its occupying pokemon descending the ladder for a shift change. For a second, her ears were perked up, eyes weary for the single pallid that would let its glare escalate into something further. With only a light breath of air across her fur as an answer, Flora let out a sigh. With the book gripped in her teeth, she returned it to her bag, before looking back at every pallid in the circle. From the Deerling's hind leg, it seemed the shaking had returned.

"Fine. I-I guess I can make one exception. No more, though. A-And if anything else like this happens I won't have another choice. Understand?"

With Eoin starting, a murmur of agreements went through the field. One by one, the pallids went back to their work, leaving only the Mightyena, Stoutland, Deerling, and Charmander. Seeing another pokemon stationed at her own tower, Flora turned back to the facility, every muscle in her seeming to loosen at once. While glancing back to the book poking out of her saddlebag, her eyes met those of the pallids one last time.

"Arceus, I need a break."

With her absent, Eoin and Piolu turned to each other. A single row of crops divided the two, sprouts just about to break through their encompassing soil.

"We can comb over all this later," Piolu said.. "In the meantime… it's good to see you again, Eoin. Was beginning to worry that you'd finally been found out on the outside."

"No," Eoin replied. "The dye is still working, and my deep cover is still in place. Had some difficulties, no doubt, but after everything we should have the key to the plan in place. Got a bit more than I bargained for with that key, in fact."

The Stoutland's oversized eyebrows raised. For a long moment, he scanned over the Charmander, taking in his tepid grin, and the way his flame seemed to flicker with every look back to a particular shed. When Eoin looked back to the Piolu, he found a grin that seemed almost athenema to his usual features.

"Well then," Piolu said, chuckling, "let's go meet that 'key', why don't we? You took a big risk after all getting to her, I hope it was worth it… and that you can keep your eyes on the goal from here on out."

"Yes," Eoin replied, "let's."

Ignoring his wince at the statement as best he could, Eoin turned back to the shed. While the Charmander took the lead, however, Piolu halted. The Mightyena had its teeth loosely wrapped around what remained of the saddle, gaze perpetually stuck to the dirt until the Stoutland gave a quick bark in its direction. Looking back up, the Mightyena whimpered.

"Hey fella, don't beat yourself up about it," Piolu said, before motioning to the Deerling just about to enter the facility. "This day may have been theirs, the next too. But you know what? Soon enough, we'll wake up to a world where tomorrow is ours."
 
Chapter 27: An Honest Conversation
"Care for some tea, old chum?"

Chimera had been unusually quiet as the two of them had made their way down the stairs. His steps were almost on instinct by now, and before long Bagon and Girafarig were sitting on the simple wooden benches of a recreational facility. On one corner, a trio of Absol, Dragonite, and Haxorus were shooting the breeze by a pool table, while on the other was a cafeteria assembly line with an Ambipom doling out portions four at a time. Mounted on the walls in a neat pattern were various designs of neckerchiefs and badges, as well as a line of twenty or so group photos corresponding to different years. Though the photo's black and white nature made it a little difficult, the Bagon could recognize a few of the same faces around him.

"Chimera?"

The Bagon jolted up at Binair's voice. Though his face was the same neutral stare, Binair's horns drooped hearing the rattle of the cup and plate as Chimera took them in his hands.

"O-Oh yeah, thank you Sir," Chimera said. "Apologies."

Binair said little, spoon on the chairside table lifting on its own to stir the sugary concoction of milk, foam, and coffee before him. Chimera's glazed over stare seemed lost in his own drink; he could scarcely notice a certain Deerling lying across from them flipping through her novel.

Had his own chair collapsed out from under him and thrown itself at the Absol dozing off beside the pool table, Chimera doubted he would have noticed. The words of a grey Charmander echoed through his mind, fighting to maintain an impression as painted murals and memories of an equally grey Rampardos did likewise. Lifting the cup with his good hand to take another sip, Chimera's eyes settled on the two crutches leaning against the table. They appeared again as he looked down, only this time in the reflection of the slightly tarnished badge pinned against his bag.

"I should make one thing clear to you, old chum," Binair said. "I know it's a lot to take in, and I'm not expecting you to have to deal with this on a regular basis. True, taking up a career of leadership on the high ranking exploration and military aspects of the WFG means you would have to come here occasionally, but the majority of what you'd be doing has to do with the other aspects of the guild that increase the quality of life for all of Faire's pokemon. Overseeing resource collection, supervising public works, that sort of thing. Does this make sense?"

Lifting his head to meet Binair's stare, Chimera gave a slow nod. His furrowed brow still stood, though the faint clattering of ceramic plate against cup had stopped.

"Yeah, yeah it does, Sir. I just… needed a moment to take it all in. Can't say I saw something exactly like this in my other life, but I'm starting to think I was ignorant of the whole thing. Pokemon around here seem happy; living in better conditions than I ever saw at home. Food had to come from somewhere, I suppose."

At an easy pace, Binair's signature smile returned. Heads on both the front and back of the Girafarig craned around the room, one settling on a windowside door to the back of the room, while the other's eyes beamed at the same Deerling nestled on a large pillow.

"I can scarcely express how excellent that is to hear, though my other mind makes a fair point that a pokemon of a high ranking position is not the only one that should be giving you a demonstration. Perhaps a more 'boots on the ground' viewpoint would help in navigating through this. In fact… Flora?"

The Deerling's muscles tensed as if Binair's low voice had come through a megaphone. Her hooves lost grip of the book, letting it fall to the floor as she jolted up to attention. Chimera flinched at the sudden gesture. A glance at Binair confirmed that he had done the same.

"Yessir?" she asked.

Binair let out a deep breath, smile on his face as he gestured Flora at ease.

"Would you be amicable to providing Chimera here a short tour of our outside facilities? Feel free to voice your viewpoint on this whole matter. Also, I took the liberty of approving that extra sick leave you requested; my greatest wishes for your mother's recovery."

The Deerling nearly tripped over herself at Binair's words. Her jaw hung open, before the rigid posture fell into something more personable. Chimera had to stifle a chuckle at the change; was that really how he had looked?

"Of course Sir," Flora replied, turning to the door before stopping midway. "I-I… thank you Sir. Means a lot."

Chimera followed suit as Flora leaned the crutches on the table over to him. At an easy pace, the two of them went through the door. Placing her hoof on the handle, the Deerling seemed to cast a glance behind her, smiling to a colorful scarf poking out of her bag that, while old and faded, shined well in the morning sun.

"Oh, and once you return," Binair called out, "I've organized transportation of your team back to Pith Town. Once we return there, our little arrangement can start in earnest."

The Bagon returned a wave to the Girafarig's two beaming smiles. Chimera couldn't help but look up as the rows of pallids, distant shacks, and vibrant crops that came into view. The latter was ever present on the group photo of staff mounted above the door; Chimera could almost forget how the black and white of the frame put the background crops in full greyscale.

---​

"And that's where pallids first come out after domestication," Flora said, pointing at a fenced in yard of dirt and gravelstone jutting out of the facility. "A-After they get sent here from the mystery dungeons, trained in basic language, and have their aggressive tendencies ironed out, the folks over there pick what's the best area for them to be working."

Following the Deerling's hoof, Chimera noticed a series of tables set up across the yard, with a short line of pallids being escorted from one to the other. On one table, a Seviper scribbled some notes with its ink-dipped tail, analyzing a monochrome Raticate having its once sharp teeth polished to a dull edge. Near another, a Blastoise moved its Talonflame counterpart to where some pallid avians were having their wings clipped. Closest to the gate leading into the fields were four main stations, painted green, red, silver, and blue respectively. The Bagon did not say a word, though his breaths were a bit quicker than he would have liked.

"And the colors," Chimera said, putting a hand to his chin. "Different areas? Green for planting and such, right?"

Flora nodded, gesturing to a Mightyena in the distance. Its head was to the soil, being one of the many pallids plowing in a line from one of the newly cleared fields.

"Yeah, that's it. M-Most of them are assigned to that area, though not everymon. Water types get put in the irrigation sector. Fire and dragon types are best used clearing excess brush through the forests for new fields. Bulkier 'mons are in charge of hauling materials and building housing, that kind of stuff."

A friendly wave greeted Chimera as he looked up to one of the guard towers dividing the plots of land into separate quadrants. Only a few regular patrols dotted the soil, along with the occasional Krookodile or Drapion scanning across the dozen-long lines of pallids working different positions. They fought off the sun beating against their backs, through a few of the newer looking pallids sported chains around paws, hooves, and feet.

"Seems like a pretty secure operation," Chimera replied, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight. "I've had my fair share of run ins with pallids in dungeons, though. Hard enough fighting them off with a twenty to one ratio against you. Can't imagine it'd be much easier keeping them all like… this with the same."

Looking around, half of the Bagon's inquiries already seemed answered. A grey Jolteon scampered out of the two's way as soon as it caught sight of them. It appeared scarcely like the ones Chimera encountered on resource missions; judging by the faint sparks of electricity that left its mane like the last cinders of a fire, he'd need little more than a well placed kick if it tried charging him in a dungeon.

"Keeping a line of sight on every inch of the fields is part of it," Flora replied. "N-Not to mention there's a fast response team of soldiers back at the facility ready to charge in if anything major happens, or you get the occasional troublemaker. Been pretty quiet since I joined up, all things considered."

"Right," Chimera whispered, taking note of the bells hanging below each tower and stuffed into bags of marching guards. "And Flora… one last question."

The Deerling stopped, noticing that the Bagon shaped shadow once ahead of her had ground to a halt. Scrambling to turn back, she met Chimera with a nod.

"Y-Yeah, what is it?"

Chimera's breaths were much heavier. Again, he shielded his eyes, this time from the obscuring sunlight reflected off both the badge pinned to Flora's bag, and the jingling chains from a nearby Bibarel.

"Well, how exactly did you get started with all of this? Not trying to say anything one way or the other, it's just… this isn't exactly something they have mounted on the application posters around the guild hall."

A sharp breeze ran through the fields, rustling the flower over Flora's head. Her eyes seemed to go out of focus for a second, memories taking their place as she took a long look over the fields of crops and sizable facility in the distance. As the wind died down, the faint creaking and growls of carriages rolling through the roads took its place.

"N-Nothing much to it, really. Signed up for the guild like anyone else. Always had a bit of admiration for some of the higher ranking teams of the WFG. Thought if I played my cards right it wouldn't be long before I could work my way up the food chain, but… after getting my butt kicked a few too many times by some dungeon pallids, I started to have a reoccuring fear that I'd be perpetually shot down from starting something."

Chimera's posture loosened at her words. He looked down, letting out a slight chuckle that turned to an all too familiar sigh. Glancing back to Flora, the Deerling seemed as qualified as any other member of the guild, though lacking the physique of the occasional Scyther or Arcanine they passed.

"Well, can't blame you there," Chimera replied. "I've been through that sort of thing, in a way at least. Eats you from the inside and out. Don't even have to get knocked on your behind by a thunder punch for that to happen, though it certainly helps."

Flora tilted her head, a second passing before her eyes widened, and she returned the Bagon's smile with a chuckle.

"Heh, yep," Flora replied. "I… guess that fire kinda got lit a bit more when ma got sick. Couldn't really sit down and smell the roses when the bills for medicine and doctors started rolling in. Ma's a stubborn 'mon, but I made a promise that I wouldn't leave her. Needed something well-paying that would give me a jumpstart on my career."

"Let me guess," Chimera replied, "that's when a certain Girafarig showed up with a fondness for croquet, automobiles, and keeping things close to the chest? 'Take care of those below you' I think was what that Wigglytuff at the factories said."

Flora gave a nod, hoof tapping at the regulation book poking out of her bag. The two stepped through a gate in the barbed wire fencing, now almost to the conglomerate of sheds built out and up from the center of one of the fields.

"He went to me," she replied. "Seems like that was the case for most of the 'mons here. Offered me this position and all the job benefits that come from it in exchange for keeping everything here classified. I-I'm still getting used to a lot of things here, but… it's not so bad, really. We're making the dungeons that resource teams have to go through safer, while overseeing food production and making sure the ferals that would normally be attacking good 'mon are doing something productive. N-Not to mention I'd rather be working here than where all the meat for Faire comes from."

Judging from the shiver that ran up Chimera's spine, he was inclined to agree. As the two approached, they had to walk through a work line of tilling pallids. Among them was a Vullaby, which after looking the Bagon straight in the eye moved out of his way without another word, before staring back to the soil. It had been barely a week since Chimera and Argon had waited in line for a restaurant that served smoked Vullaby sandwiches without a second thought. And yet, looking outward, it seemed the many sentry towers around the perimeter of the fields were wary of what was outside as much as what was in. Chimera needed a moment to scratch his forehead; why hide the skull in the closet when the skeleton was on display?

"I see, though… there might be some 'mons out there that don't see it that way. Gotta worry about those who accept the meat thing, but don't believe that—what the hell?"

In most respects, there was nothing spectacular about the work crew in front of the housing areas. They went about their business, offering only an occasional stare, chip, or growl to the Bagon and Deerling a hundred something feet across the way. All at least, except one. Chimera almost tumbled to the floor upon losing grip of his crutches, being met by a face much too familiar, and two gray eyes that stared into his own with a deliberation far greater than coincidence. Flora's own neck craned at the sight, eyes narrowing as she traced the Bagon's vision.

"Well, we get the occasional trouble inside here," Flora said, "but nothing really more than that. Had a bit of a bout earlier today with some of the more contentious pallids. Mightyena way back there was part of it, a Stoutland too, but he must be working at a different area right now. That Charmander over there did a decent job talking them down, though. Pretty well spoken honestly, much more than I expected to see."

It took more than a few seconds for Chimera to overcome his self-imposed paralysis. To an untrained eye, Eoin's mannerisms looked little different from the Armaldo at his right or the Houndoom on his left. The Bagon saw however, the slight nod he gave as the two approached, as well as the way his colorless flame pointed a bit too much to a small shack directly opposite one of the larger ones. If Chimera squinted, he could see the faint scar on the Pallid's tail from his injury on the mountain. With no goggles to hide his irises, Chimera could only assume whether their glances to him were ones of a plaintiff or defendant.

"I… right," Chimera replied.

What was clear, was Eoin's continued swishing towards the small, unassuming shed. Chimera gave his own nod as Eoin's gaze drew to the soil, turning the slightest bit back to Flora. After a second of contemplation, the Bagon let out a deep exhale, before lowering his head to wipe his brow with his good hand. It wasn't like the visit had suddenly given the Bagon the ability to sweat, but he had points for presentation.

"Say, Flora," he said, giving a few more deep, labored breaths, "we've been walking a pretty long while under the sun. Would you mind heading back to the facility and fetching a few drinks for the both of us? My treat."

The Deerling took up a soldier like demeanor, scanning over the Bagon as he feebly waved his crutch in the air.

"I'd do it myself, but… you know."

"O-Of course," Flora replied, turning back to the colossal building with a renewed vigor. "Always happy to help a fellow guild member. I'll be back before you know it."

"Take your time," Chimera whispered. "Take your time… "

In a short while, Flora was on the other end of one of the fields, leaving only Chimera and about a dozen pallids each shooting him inquisitive looks. Standing as straight up as he could, Chimera hobbled across the line, faking curiosity in a couple of the pallids before settling on a certain Charmander.

"You, Gloommander," he said, pointing first to Eoin with his good hand and then to the shed. "Boss gave me orders to have a private discussion with you to set things straight. You coming, or what?"

He turned around, gesturing to the Deerling outline in the distance.

"I'd advise you be quick about it."

Eoin looked left and right, giving his best surprised chirp while Chimera made his way to the shed. Giving one last glance back to the pallids, he followed, all the while lingering particularly on the opposite shed, where a dash of orange fur was barely visible through one of the cracks.

With any witnesses having gone back to their business, Eoin leaned against Chimera to help the Bagon up the steps to the elevated structure, who in turn held the door open. The floorboards gave a moaning creek while the two entered, as if the weathered cedar and splintered frames would give way any second. A clatter filled the silence from Chimera steadying his crutch, and knocking against the dull saws, chipped hammers, and every other tool under the sun hastily mounted on the walls in a utilitarian tetris puzzle. Hinges from the door similar squeaked from being shut, coating the few square feet in a thin darkness.

"Crazy day, huh?" Chimera said, giving a faint chuckle. "Good to see you, Eoin. I'll… admit that among the grey eyes that stared back at me today, I didn't expect yours, but in hindsight it's all starting to make sense. You didn't bring us to the top of that mountain just so we could freeze to death, did you?"

Charmander and Bagon stared at each other in the brief silence, both locking their expressions and crossing their arms. Chimera's foot ambled towards a disheveled pile of woodchips between them, lazily pushing them forward as if high stakes tokens at a gambling ring.

"Yes," Eoin replied, "that's true, and the day has been a bit more tumultuous than I would have liked, but I can say for certain that I have firmly established my goals. My question is, since we've parted ways, have you done the same?"

The Bagon's brow furrowed, back of his forehead tinking against a wall-mounted saw from his slight back step.

"I'm still working things out. Hell, I've haven't even been around Faire for two months, not about to pass any strong judgement on any place or any person either way."

Eoin's tail wisped a bit from the grey flame growing a bit louder, still doing little to hide the shadow's encompassing the room.

"That is… fair," the Pallid replied, keeping his voice low. "Still, I hope that after everything you have seen your perception of—"

"Does she know?" Chimera asked.

Eoin paused, gaze lowering to the Bagon's rapidly tapping feet. His mouth opened to ask a question, though hung silent; it didn't take words for each pokemon to already know the answer.

"She does, " Eoin replied. "In fact, I'll tell you in good faith that she's waiting in the opposite building right now with a comrade of mine. Arceus bless her heart, she has had her own disillusionment with all of this, but neither her magnificent compassion nor her resolve has wavered. I hope in good time the same can be said for all pokemon of Faire. If our little inquiry exchange is to continue, however, I must ask… "

The Pallid rubbed his eyes, voice taking up a quicker tone than usual. He pointed with his arm to his grey flame, before gesturing to the continuous grey scales that lined his body.

"Does he know?"

Chimera's neutral face faded into perturbed scowl, eyes blinking a few times like a 'mon being shown a flying tepig. They narrowed into his own analysis of the Pallid, noting that the exploration bag with a faint blue radiance formerly worn by Eoin was nowhere to be found.

"No, 'course not," Chimera replied. "I made a few sacrifices and had to tell a few white lies to Binair along the way, but it'll take more than seeing this to get me to sell out the pokemon that saved my partner's life."

"... Oh."

Eoin's own poker face fell mulling over the Bagon's words. The Pallid took a deep breath, flame flickering a bit less before returning to its continued blaze. He turned around to crane his vision through a gap in the crudely fabricated plank walls. Flora was nowhere to be seen across the fields, leaving only a monolithic structure in the distance. A new line of pallids seemed to be making their way out of the fence, with a gray Liepard in front staring at its now clawless paws.

"Still," Eoin said, "I hope your visit here has done something to alter your perception of its two-faced orchestrator. His apologist nature may seem infectious, most every of the guard pokemon here seem to have bought into it, but I pray that you can see the malicious nature in a pokemon that would take creatures just as sentient and worthy of fulfillment as himself, and leave them shackled to drudgery and destitution."

A second too many passed as Eoin waited for Chimera to respond; the Pallid barely realized his own fingers beginning to tap against the dilapidated wood. Chimera had his own hand to his chin, sight, sound, and most other senses seemingly glazed over from his spinning thoughts. As the memories of the visit flowed through the Bagon, his hand clenched for a moment, before falling limply at his side.

"I can't deny what's going on here, but… he's not the heartless pokemon you make him out to be."

Eoin glanced back over his shoulder, snout crinkling with his frown.

"I've seen much to the contrary," he replied. "There are pallids here who could be walking beside the pokemon of Faire as artists, philosophers, and equals right now, if they didn't have to move with gaunt limbs below the guard towers above."

"That may be true," Chimera replied, before gesturing with his crutch to his broken limbs, "or they could be with the pallids inside mystery dungeons who break the bones of exploration teams and send their better half into morbid acceptance as she nearly freezes to death."

Eoin flinched a bit at the last of the Bagon's biting words, before shoring his footing. Chimera's own eyes widened hearing his volume; any more, and the cedar walls would do little to hide his voice from the pokemon in the cabin across. Seeing Chimera let out a deep sigh, Eoin's own muscles likewise loosened.

"I just… look," Chimera said, "simple matter of fact is I think there's more to this than either of us are letting on. I drove here with that Girafarig, saw a bit of a gap in that haughty demeanor he lets on to everyone. He's helped people, a lot of people, even if I'm not sure if I can get behind what's going on here. He had—has a family, a daughter even, one whom he's trying to make amends to… ironically, if it hadn't been for his mistakes, I'd have had no supplies to treat that tail of yours."

Chimera's last words hung in his mouth. His heart froze for a second, attempting to judge from Eoin's swishing tail and perturbed expression if he had connected the dots. The thought faded soon, however, tucked away in Eoin's subconscious as he took a step forward. The floorboards gave another resounding moan, with only their slight splintering and the Pallid's roaring tail flame to fill the silence.

"As candid as your words are, there are forces moving here too valuable for me to risk now. Even after our tumultuous first meeting, I have garnered a respect for you, Chimera, and I hope I have done enough for you to say the same."

Before he could speak another word, Chimera nodded. Eoin blinked a few times, then jolted back to attention.

"But be that as it may, and knowing the special interest Binair has taken with you ever since we returned from the mountain, I can only remain truthful with you for what is to come if I have one assurance."

Eoin's arm raised, gesturing Chimera over to the other end of the shed. The Bagon crossed his arms as well as he could, before ambling over to the other side and noticing Eoin's gesture towards the same crack in the wall. Brow furrowing a bit, Chimera looked through the gap.

The story was the same for what he saw. The same all-seeing guild building in the distance. The same pokemon on guard towers watching their grey counterparts as they went through their unending routine of tilling soil, moving timber, and harvesting the ever so important food under the beating sun. Chimera's arms jittered a bit at the returning sight, though his breath remained steady.

"If the chips are down," Eoin whispered, "and the colors of change rise upon both halves of Faire, will you hold that the system in place here is deserving of removal?"

Chimera closed his eyes, hands beginning to fidget just a bit more as he forced them open. Out of the edge of the hole, he could see a corner of the opposing cabin. With newfound knowledge, it didn't take the Bagon long to find the infinitesimal dash of orange fur on the other side of the wall. As the grey exterior of a Grottle hauling bricks between the two cabins blocked off the glimmer of his partner, a thought went through the Bagon that its hue was little different from the cubicle walls of yesteryear.

"You know," Chimera said, letting out an anemic chuckle, "seems like wherever I go, there's always someone stuck. Always someone shafted with the arduous shit of the world. Seemed like a fact of life. Still… that doesn't make it right, doesn't make this right. You wanna hear me say it, Eoin? From what I've seen with you and the others, I don't agree with what's being done here. That reasonable enough?

Turning back from the gap, Chimera met Eoin's widened eyes with a huff.

"If I did put my support behind this," the Bagon said, "I would have long since spilled the beans on why I couldn't come back from that mountain with time gear in hand. Would have made things a lot easier. We've both made sacrifices for each other, but in return I ask that what I do with the guild in the future is my own call. Capiche?"

A slight wisp of flames left Eoin's nostrils as he took a deep breath. The two pokemon looked toward each other with scrunched up maws, Chimera waving his hand over his guild badge-pinned badge while Eoin reached up to his eyes to adjust a pair of goggles that weren't there.

"It is… good enough," Eoin finally said, a second passing before his mouth raised into a slight grin, "I suppose in our predicament, I cannot ask for more. We each have our part to play in what is to come, and as long as you are willing to keep my secret and that of the pallids here, it is not my decision on how you manage your career. If everything works out for the best, not a drop of grey or red need be spilled."

"We've done a pretty decent job of that so far," Chimera replied. "Well… not counting you singing off my scales or me dunking your tail into water like I'm raising money for ALS."

The Pallid's eyes narrowing, looking toward the Bagon like he had grown a pair of wings. Chimera faltered for only a second, before shaking his head.

"Right… phrasing. But anyway, think it was just a couple days ago that we had a duel without needing a single trip to the hospital, that's the—"

"Hello?!"

Bagon and Charmander froze, a voice familiar to both raising from the fields. The two of them scrambled to the gap in the wall, nearly conking heads until both had adjusted for a decent view. Walking a few dozen feet away in the fields, with two cups of lemonade holstered on either sides of her mane, was a Deerling.

"Chimera, you there? A-Anyone seen a Bagon? Yay high, walking with one crutch?"

The Bagon shot up, realization flooding over his face as he gave Eoin a toothy grin.

"Well, guess that's my cue," he said, grin lasting another second before falling back with a glum nod. "I… suppose I'll have to meet you and Argon when we all get back to West Faire."

"Indeed," Eoin replied, letting out a sigh that couldn't decide itself as relief or remorse. "While you're away, I have a meeting with Argon and some of my associates that must be done. I hope once we meet again we'll be better equipped at sorting this whole mess out. In the meantime, farewell. Perhaps in your further dealings with Binair, our movement will appear more appealing."

"Maybe," Chimera whispered. "Maybe."

Eoin nodded, Chimera ambling close behind as the Charmander laid his hand on the door. With a click, he opened it a smidge, letting a ray of light wash into the shed. Before it could open any further, however, Eoin stopped, looking Chimera in the eye.

"One more thing," the Pallid said. "A bit after some of our scouts alerted me and Argon to you taking that tour, and I asked that you and I have this little meeting to set things straight, she asked that I relay a message to you. 'I'm sorry that we had to find out the way you did,' she said, 'But keep sticking through; after all, we've survived worse than this as a team."

The world seemed to slow as the words went through Chimera's head. He could almost hear Argon's voice in place of the Charmander's words. He stared on, lost in thought until a ray of the shifting sun brought him back to attention. Pupils contracting from having left the darkness, he looked to Eoin with a renewed smile.

"Thank you," Chimera said, "I'll do my best to stay true to that. Couldn't think of a better 'mon to take advice from. Please, send her my regards, and… "

The door opened, letting in another wave of light as Chimera reached for his crutch and began walking out. Just before he hit the soil, the Bagon turned back one last time.

"Tell her I look forward to sharing a cup of tea when this all blows over."
 
Chapter 28: Rally
"That sounds… nice."

The faint tinge of blue scales through the crack in the shed had long hobbled its way across the field with Flora in tow, leaving Argon, Eoin, and Piolu to let out indiscriminate sighs of both relief and remorse. In spite of its dark confines, the room was spacious one, akin to something between a cabin and barnhouse. Triple stacked rows of wooden shelves meant to hold supplies and pallids alike lined one side, while on the other remained a rusting latrine seat and showerhead that looked ready to wobble off any second. Even with his flickering flame, the shower did not attract the usual irksome glance from Eoin; the lingering smell of the sewer was well on his scales.

"Indeed," Eoin said, floorboards thudding with his tapping feet. "We may have our differences, but at least we share a desire for a happy life when this is all over. So much as I can tell, Chimera will not reveal our presence here, which should give us the time we need to set the plan in motion."

"Sure hope so," Piolu replied, ragged fur plume wavering with his exhale. "We've been taking a lot of risks to set this stage of yours in motion. Been going decent so far, but now that we're putting cards on the table, I wanna make sure we've got everything planned for. Seen too much suffering here already to risk it getting worse."

The Stoutland's snout quivered a bit near the end. Argon's own spine shivered seeing the infinitesimal spark in his glazed over stare. She shot a glance over to Eoin, returning the Pallid's slow nod.

"W-Well then," Argon asked, "What exactly is the plan for overcoming this? I've been with the guild for a fair bit; I've seen the amount of planning and resources they have to keep up for something like this. H-How can we get pokemon to change their minds, if no one even knows what's happening here, and guards like that Deerling can cut off food from pallids that are already only a few steps away from starving?"

Perhaps the biggest surprise to Argon, was that tinge of a smile that began forming against Eoin's stare. His flame flickered a bit more, and with a reignited blaze to his step, the Charmander went to the center of the room, locking his gaze with Argon as he took a knee.

"We had similar thoughts after I first arrived, and me and Piolu supervised the inception of this movement. While we don't have all the details figured out, we have come to the conclusion that the best chance of giving the beings here an equal standing across Faire is… is… "

Eoin blinked, word stuck on the tip of his tongue. The Pallid looked down, direction of his scowl moving between the floor and his own two claws. Seeing this, Piolu took a few steps next to the Charmander. He reached his single claw out, giving Eoin a pat that seemed to jolt him back to attention.

"Revolution," Piolu said.

The word left the Stoutland almost blankly, said as if the answer to an elementary-level history question. Jumping back to attention, Eoin looked up, tail swishing slowly against the floor.

"We're gonna build a world where pallids don't have to live in fear," Piolu said, voice low and gravelly. "Where a pokemon doesn't have to live behind barbed wire and doesn't feel like they gotta bow their head when somemon with a badge walks up to them. To do this, we gotta gain their respect, and to do that, we need to show them that we aren't gonna back down. That's worth fighting for, no?"

As the room lulled to a second of silence, Argon did not say a word to object. Eoin, however, could scarcely ignore the way the Raichu fiddled with her paws, nor how she glanced over her shoulder. She stared back at one of the cracks in the wall, almost as if looking for something. In tandem, Eoin drew his claws against the ground, scraping them against the mishmash of floorboards until stopping at one particular gap.

"To clarify," Eoin said, "a social revolution in equal parts to a physical one. In the best case, a moral fight in our fight for morals. We can clear up some more of its characteristics at the meeting tonight, but for now a more physical demonstration will work just as well."

Argon's ears perked up in realization, seeing Eoin's claw trace up the crack in the floorboard until settling on a point where the nails seemed just a bit more rusted than usual. As he raised the loose board, the interconnected ones went with it, forming a makeshift door that laid flush against the floorboards. Any ignorant pokemon would be none the wiser.

Secret panel raised, the contents below drew an equally curious glance from the Raichu. A single vertical board divided the two compartments below the floor. On the left, it looked more akin to a horizontal bookshelf. Rows upon rows of faded novels lined the hidey hole. Torn, stained, they seemed held together by no more than aged glue and a prayer. Leaning down to the floor, Argon grabbed one of the particularly lengthy books in her hand, running her paw over the leather-bound cover.

"'The Awakening," Argon read, "A Pithy Summation of the Unalienable Liberty of All'? You've… you've been a busy Charmander ever since Uxie brought you from that cave, haven't you?"

Eoin's claws fidgeted and he grinned. Piolu kept his own smile, though his neck tilted in perturbation at the mention of Uxie. Kneeling next to her, Eoin traced his own hand to a lower shelf. He took a book from the pile, though Argon could not help but see that the paper held in his claw seemed… newer. It was more of a pamphlet than anything, a stark contrast to the inch wide spine of the prior novel that felt heavy enough to crusha toe when dropped. What the pamphlets lacked in length, however, they more than made up in quantity.

"Very much so," Eoin replied, eyes taking up a nostalgic flare. "The knowledge he gave me, I vowed to provide for the downtrodden here. It is easy to oppress with ignorance, but when one is given the knowledge to question, that is the first step for inspiring dissensions."

"When he first arrived and started smuggling in those novels, pretty much all the folk here couldn't make heads or tails of it," Piolu continued, giving a slight chuckle. "Includin' yours truly. When we got together and started brewing up ideas, though, we were able to cut down the hundred coin words in those books into something that every pallid between the old hands like me and that fresh meat Mightyena could rally behind."

The Stoutland paused for a second, letting the giggle turn into a horse laugh. From there, a breath hitched on his throat, and he turned to the floor to let out a few coughs. Looking back up at the two, Piolu straightened his posture.

"Should have seen'em once I was able to assemble a decent crowd here. Pallids were practically eating out of his hand like he had just come back with a new ration card. I'd be lying to say I hadn't been drumming this up for a while, but Eoin here was the one who helped pallids believe they could have just as much brains as the high and mighty pokemon in that building… not to mention one of the only ones that can fit their rear into the drainage pipe. Will only help now that folks see we have ones like you—the good ones—on our side."

"I-I'm not alone," Argon replied, glancing down at the novel's author line as she set it back down into the stack. "At least… I hope I'm not. I've worked with good pokemon on the guild, even ones at the higher teams. T-The problem is probably ignorance. I lived for years back on West Faire, and as far as I can tell me and the pokemon around me never knew what's happening here. If we can fix that? Well, we might be able to change their perspectives."

Piolu's eyes shifted a bit hearing the Raichu's words, coming out of view as the Stoutland made an about face and walked to the other side of the cabin. He looked toward a beam of light shining down from a crack in the ceiling, letting out a slow sigh when it faded. Looking above, a series of grey clouds now covered the sky.

"Might help, but I've seen here firsthand how the pokemon that do know will either lay back in approving silence, or sit around with their claws up their butts so long as the Girafarig upstairs makes sure their checkbooks are filled. 'Course, there might be other 'mons like you out there, Argon, but I can't risk all the pallids here going gently back to their work if that's not the case. If we're gonna earn our freedom, we have to be more… direct. Go right up to their doorstep and show them they can't just leave us to rot."

"Which will be undoubtedly difficult," Eoin said, "what with the security here and ensuring our intentions are clear to the populace. For the moment, however, this is our tentative plan."

Seeing Eoin shuffle over to the rightmost compartment, Argon followed suit, using her tail as a makeshift cushion. She had to admit, it was an impressive sight what laid over the dirt, if a little crude. Two wide mounds of sand jutted out about a foot apart. The western most mound was more or less flat, contrasting to the valleys, piles, and trenches of the eastern one. What it lacked in elevation, however, it more than made up with the frequent circles drawn in the sand, the biggest ones being closer to the edge of the mound. One circle near the edge was particularly prominent, not only due to its size, but the dashed line in the sand that stretched out from it across the sea of dirt separating the two piles. It took Argon only a second to instantly recall each shape.

"That's Pith Town, right?" Argon asked, pointing to the circle. "I guess… you can't get closer to the Guild's doorstep than that. The line though, hmm…"

Eoin nodded, tracing the line with his claw across the sea of dirt. Reaching the eastern mound, it settled on another circle close to the edge, this one close to some inch wide twigs that jutted out of the dirt like a game of battleship. The dashed line then went to a prominent X in the middle of the mound, stationed just a few inches away from the highest point of sand. Even looking at it, Argon felt a slight shiver; it couldn't do the cold of the mountain justice.

"Provided we get all the pallids outside of this camp before the Guild has time to effectively respond," Eoin said, "we'll march to Port Opstand and requisition the merchant ships garrisoned there while their crews are on break. From there, we sail to Pith Town, raise our voices to the populace as we garrison ourselves outside of the Guild Hall, and… pray to Arceus that they listen to our pleas. We need time to make the further details like clockwork, but this is our source of hope for all those indentured here."

As Eoin spoke, Argon couldn't help but notice the tepid demeanor in his tone near the end. She looked back to the X. While true, it was sizable on its own, when put up against the many circles on the western mound, it had the appearance of Carvanah in a sea of Sharpedo.

"A-And… somemons gotta make sure they have enough of a perspective that they'll understand why you're doing this. That's why you brought me here from the beginning, isn't it?"

None said a word. Argon's eyes widened a bit staring down to the line connecting the two islands, realizing the sudden burst of tension that now hit with each new thought on the topic. As she stared towards the finer details of the line, the Raichu noticed a discarded bit of glass half buried in the dirt. Another shiver hit her, seeing nothing but her own pensive gaze across its rough surface. She surprised herself not flinching when Eoin placed his hand on her shoulder, the warmth a welcome respite.

"It still doesn't guarantee that they won't slaughter us all while we're surrounded," Piolu huffed, "or that they'll give a damn about the likes of us if they don't have to, but it's a start. Not like they're just gonna let us waltz up to a newspaper and plaster their skeletons on the front page."

Argon lifted her paw to her chin, a spark of inspiration emanating from the Raichu's cheeks, before being stored in her conscious. Eoin's flame seemed to flicker though the touch, shown by his frequent shifts to looking toward the two mounds, and the Stoutland who's gaze seemed to cut a clean line between the two. Raising to his feet, Eoin fiddled with his claws.

"We will figure it out," Eoin said."I have faith. Even in the darkest of times, the best of pokemon nature will light the way. In the meantime, we must gather our forces to set the stage tonight. Could you take care of that, Piolu? Argon and I will finish off our debrief."

The Stoutland's ears seemed to perk up at the request. With barely a word, he made his way to the door, before stopping as Piolu's brow furrowed, and his leaden eyes trailed round the room.

"Would be my pleasure, Eoin," Piolu replied, before making his way to a familiar satchel strewn across the floor. "Once I'm back, though, most of us wouldn't mind hearing what the story is with this. We're only gonna be able to weather the storm ahead if we're all frank."

Simultaneously, Piolu's paw took hold of the satchel, a seeping blue radiance continually poking out of its confines. In one smooth action, he slid it to Eoin's feet. The floorboards scraped as a metallic edge poked out of its corner, drawing Eoin's gaze.

"Indeed," Eoin replied, looking back up to match Piolu's stare. "For now, just know that it shouldn't be essential to the plan, at least not yet. Simply an artifact entrusted to me by an old friend. Chimera divulged that a Zorua we traveled with on the mountains seemed to have a vested interest in it… and that she might hold more unique ties to our foe than I initially imagined."

Piolu's leftmost ear tuft raised a bit, though neither Argon nor Eoin could link it to any particular phrase. His usual droll less demeanor firmly shut, the Stoutland turned around, shuffling out of the door and ambling towards a group of pallids a field away. Once he was a decent distance apart, Eoin closed the door. The pallid slouched as darkness again enveloped them both. Argon's own cheeks sparked a bit from the memories of a Zorua running through her mind, though her shift to analyzing Eoin kept the dots from fully connecting. He let out a deep sigh, releasing a breath even he didn't remember holding.

"E-Eoin?" Argon asked, voice lowering half an octave. "What's on your mind? I-uh… I've been around you long enough to tell when something is giving you trouble."

Eoin's grey pupils widened a bit, though after a second of thought he gave a conceding nod.

"Yes actually, though I assure nothing of your causing. I-It's just… should you assume the role of a bridgemaker in the days to come, I fear it may not be a one sided affair."

A plink of water thumped against the roof through the silence. Another soon followed, more joining in to form an artillery barrage of rain against the buckling shingles. Argon's gaze slowly drifted up, seeing the grey clouds overhead having turned a darker shade. Before the Raichu could speak, a gust of wind hit the rattling walls, ripping open one of their few addorning windows. From their peripheral vision, the two could see pallids and pokemon alike attempting to fight off the onslaught. Argon's gaze drifted to Eoin's claws, and then her own, before muttering a silent thanks that the two were able to keep them dry, at least temporarily.

"E-Eoin," Argon said, eyes widening in a long, sudden stare towards the pouring outside. "How… just how aggressive is this revolution going to be?I-I don't doubt its for a good cause, but what will happen to pokemon like that Deerling?"

The Pallid bit his lip, a brief ember leaving his maw like a candle flickering out.

"I don't know yet. If I had my way, not spilling a drop of blood would take precedence above all else, but I have to accept the fact that there are other pallids here with a different perspective. For all my rhetoric, I've only had a month here to build support, while pokemon like Piolu have had twenty years here to both suffer and earn the companionship of the destitute. He's been a reliable compatriot, and without him I wouldn't have half the following to plan the revolution that I do, but… his viewpoint makes him a bit aggressive towards those that many here believe are beyond redemption. If we work together, though, I hope we will not need to make anymore compromises between pragmatism and idealism than we need to."

Eoin's wording did little to calm the tension fueled sparks from Argon's cheeks, nor her quickened glances towards the window as every single fur on the Raichu seemed to stick up. Joining her side, Eoin pointed out of the window, towards three separate towers stationed between the shed and the treeline, area in between as flat as a dirt yard.

"Like Piolu said, very few pokemon here besides you and I can fit through the tunnel. If we are to have even a chance at getting our forces to Port Obstand before the guild can encircle us, those three towers need to be… dealt with. I suggested attempting a quick knockout, but with many of the pallid's less than enthusiastic attitudes towards their captors, they've been apprehensive of taking the risk. Even then, that is the bare minimum of violence likely required if we are to gain our liberty. I… I don't like it anymore than the next 'mon, but I can't well judge when my existence has had less than a tenth of their suffering. The best we can do might be ensuring no fallout after the fact."

The Pallid's face was mourning, begging even, his tail flame but a dull cinder. Argon's was all too similar, though the tinge of acceptance in Eoin's eyes had not yet infected. Instead, she looked on, lingering on the faces of pokemon above and pallid below. Of the former, a Graveler and Marowak were supervising a group of pallids scurrying to keep what rations they were given dry. A familiar Stoutland occasionally walked past one of the working Pignite, whispering into his ear while the Graveler and Marowak weren't looking, and receiving a nod in turn.

Argon looked down, spotting the golden pattern still pinned to her bag, before looking back to the verbatim design on the Graveler and Marowak's own. A chill ran up her spine: one she could tell wasn't due to the rain.

"B-But… are they really that different from me?" Argon asked, drawing an inquisitive glance from Eoin.

"That's an unfair comparison," Eoin replied. "You've shown more kindness to me and my kind than any of the collaborating pokemon here have."

Argon turned around, straightening her posture from her tail as a lifetime of memories seemed to flow through her conscious.

"A-At the end of the day, that's only because of dumb luck. I joined the guild same as them. Did everything I was asked just like them. That Graveler and Marowak, just a few months ago they were sitting next to me at a cafe trying to bring me out of my shell. If I had lagged just a bit less advancing, or wasn't lucky enough to run into you in that cave, I-I could have been the pokemon sitting up in that tower or giving Chimera that tour. If we do nothing, the pallids here keep suffering. If we act, then whatever happens, decent beings on both sides are gonna get hurt, or worse…"

Eoin's eyes widened, glum silence overtaking the two as rain continued plinking against the roof. An attempt to speak from the Pallid found little purchase, thoughts a myriad against Argon's words. He looked out of the window, first towards the grey pokemon on the fields, then to the few guild members supervising and in the towers above, before quickly shifting back to Argon's own features. Repeating the process, Eoin could little decide which to linger on most. Instead, he slumped, the closest thing he had to shoulders slouching.

"I-I… yes, I concede that. For better or worse, we must make the best of the options we have. At the meeting tonight, your input should be instrumental in stirring this revolution as dry as it can be. I—arrghhh…"

"E-Eoin?" Argon yelped.

He slumped over, paw taking Argon's for support. Almost immediately after the Pallid had fallen, he turned to Argon, the two sharing a knowing, forlorn look. The slight narrowing of his pupils, though not as prevalent as usual, was undeniable.

"Which… which Eoin will I be talking to soon?" Argon asked.

The Pallid blinked, then blinked again, pupils flickering in and out with a snakelike frequency. His expression turned inward, as if begging, pleading to the air before him and sky above. He needed not mutter now, for it was a wasted effort when the thoughts of civil and feral alike shared the same mind. His arm shook, barely stopping itself from lunging forward until a familiar sense of warmth grabbed it. Forcing his eyes open, Eoin was able to find a sense of focus, that being the two paws grasping his claws that, for the time, allowed the Pallid to crawl control back.

"T-the more academic of the two, for better or worse," Eoin replied. "The one that wears goggles and is still afraid of heights. Thank you for helping me out of it. I suppose it better the creature inside me vie for its turn now and not when I am in front of any guards, i-it's just… the timing still leaves much to be desired."

"Wait," Argon replied, "you don't mean—"

Her ears fell at Eoin's tepid nod. In an instant, both Raichu and Charmander peeked out of the window, the latter having a slight stupor. A beaming, orange radiance of light filtered through the cracks in the walls, its source reflecting against the long blanket of clouds as it made its descent below the horizon. With the rain stopping, and darkness beginning to dominate the increasingly star lined sky, the outside pallids had gone back to their work. Foremost of them was Piolu, who after spotting Eoin and Argon peek through the window, returned a distant nod that could only mean all was ready. About two or three dozen other pallids scattered the fields, a number Argon realized was just enough to crowd into the shed. She looked to pallids, and then to Eoin, seeing a hint of panic in his eyes.

"They'll be expecting me," Eoin replied, voice the slightest bit resigned, "they'll be expecting both of us, and significant enough leadership to rally them as the plan is set into place. I should be able to get through my speech. However, I hope it doesn't need to come to it, but in my present condition, there's a chance that…"

Neither needed any help to fill in the rest. An unspoken connotation filling the air, Argon felt her breath hitch in her throat. Her gaze wandered, fur crawling up on end as she stared towards the Raichu reflected in the glass. The one that seemed to gesture back with her own irises to the awaiting pallids outside, the one that seemed to return her panicked stare with blue eyes that loomed like the sky overhead. Eoin's own anxious look toward her asked his own unspoken question. Giving one last glance to the Raichu in the glass, Argon tidied her footing. She levitated over to grab one of the pamphlets, before returning Eoin her own quivering nod.

"I-I understand. We'll...just have to see if it comes to it."

---​

Whether by Argon's assistance in providing a comforting presence to focus on, carefully planned negotiations with his own conscious, or sheer dumb luck, Eoin was able to hold on. Darkness had long fallen over the work farm, moonlight taking its place to filter through the cracks in the shed walls. A single lantern hung from one of the walls, giving a faint illumination that could barely reach each shaded corner. Eoin's own ember seemed to flicker with trepidation as he and Argon sat on an unassuming crate under the lantern. Charmander's eyes tapering just a bit more, and his hand squeezed firmly around her arm, Argon cast Eoin a smile. While his hastily swaying tail could only illuminate in a metaphorical sense, it seemed to brighten the room all the same.

One by one, the pallids filtered in. A Mightyena, a Talonflame, and a Skiddo among about two dozen others, each lead into the shed by a certain Stoutland, and each casting a wary eye towards the first pokemon with no grey hue to ever attend such a meeting. Grabbing a handful of leaflets from the secret compartment, Eoin went to work distributing them to the increasing flow of pallids. Argon did likewise, though after thanking a younger looking Drednaw for attending, and levitating one of the booklets in front of it, her gaze was drawn to one of the many times Eoin had lifted his claw to his temple, eyes closing in ever increasing irritation.

Before long, the room was filled, though one could barely tell from the outside. Despite being packed nearly shoulder, to wing, to mane in the unassuming confines of the shed, the pallids made barely a peep. Comments were kept to brief whispers, eyes combing over scanning past the handwritten, monochrome title on the pamphlet simply labeled 'The Colors of Change'. As Piolu opened the door to let the last of the pallids in, Argon caught a glimpse of one of the guard towers. WIth its distance, the Raichu surmised that any excess talk from the shed would no doubt arise suspicion.

Door closing behind them, and Piolu holding a watchful gaze through the fields for any unwelcome guests, Eoin took three deep breaths. Summoning his courage, he stood up to plant his feet on the crate. Argon was of a similar disposition, and as the Pallid awkwardly stumbled his way on a crate, she had laid her paw on his tail to steady him. She let go as Eoin regained his footing, the motion almost as if he was passing a torch.

"Attention," Eoin said.

His tone had been little louder than any inside voice, and yet in but a few seconds, the room was completely silent. All eyes went to the Pallid, his posture against the crowd of anxious stares seeming like he had done this before. Piolu watched next to the door, and Argon looked up from the foot or so of elevation the crate gave him. Even with his platform, Eoin needed to stand on his tippy toes to lock eyes with the taller pallids of the crowd.

"Thank you," Eoin said before clearing his throat. "I know the road has been difficult, the hours long, the mind and body aching. In but a few months, however, we shall have set the course that will ensure the liberties deserved by every being are within ourselves, and that every drop of sweat is our own."

A soft yet consistent murmur of approval rippled through the crowd of pallids. Smiles were all around, though neither Argon nor Eoin could know completely which section they referenced. While Argon cast her own grin up to Eoin, her fur tensed up; Arceus knew against the monochrome crowd, she stood out like the target of the world's easiest 'Where's Pikachu?' book. Letting a silence float through the air that seemed too well rehearsed to be unplanned, the Pallid begun again.

"That journey begins now. Though our foes of pokemon and ignorance alike are formidable ones, if we all stick with our part to play, peace, liberty, and respect will crown our success."

"Respect!" a Bisharp said through the crowd, a second passing before the pallid realized his excess tone. Looking around, however, it did little to dampen their enthusiasm.

"They won't push us around any longer," another chanted.

"Finally time to show that two-face and his pawns what we're made of."

"Hear! Hear!"

The subsequent whispers grew to a soft rumble, a newfound energy seeming to course through the crowd. Seeing the smiles all around, Argon did her best to match it, though she could not ignore the tense shiver that ran up her spine. Her maw opened, yet the Raichu couldn't find the words to interrupt their cheers. Instead, she glanced over to Eoin, sharing a slight nod that confirmed the Pallid's own flickering flame. Taking a few seconds to pick his words, Eoin held a claw up. The action drew silence over the room, even if the murmurs did take a bit longer to die down.

"We have much to be done to achieve these ends," Eoin said, standing with a posture more assured than the Raichu could ever remember prior. "Supplies must be gathered to feed the hungry and starving in preparation for the revolution. Our tactics for escape must be fine-tuned and practiced. Perhaps most importantly, we need time to organize a message to the populace that clearly states our intention. You all have a part to play in the days to come, and I…I-I…"

As the lamp above his head flickered to its last reserve of wax, the Pallid knew that he was done. His once confident posture fell to a slouch as his eyes closed, nearly falling off of the crate in the process. Forcing one last inkling of control, he looked to Argon. A solemn look exchanged told that the inevitable had happened. Though Argon knew not why, she was able to spring into action before panic set in. Grabbing hold of Eoin's claw with one paw, and lifting her other to her temple, Argon was able to steady him, allowing the Charmander to look one last time towards the crowd from atop the box. Though some gasped, most simply let out an understanding nod at the predicament, some even exhaling exasperated sighs.

"T-thank you for your patience," Eoin said, words spilling out of his mind a mile a minute. "W-Without further ado, I would like to introduce the warmhearted pokemon who has agreed to help us in our cause. I will allow her to continue the meeting with some introductions, I trust that you all will—arrghh!"

Eoin opened his eyes, knowing that the next time he closed them, there would be a somewhat different Charmander at the controls. Feeling Argon's paw clench around his claw with greater urgency, the Pallid stepped down from the crate, turning to look the Raichu in the eye. A menagerie of apologies, thoughts, and panicked questions threatened to escape his maw, all stopping at the sight of Argon's eyes. No doubt equally as panicked, but unwavering enough to confirm the Raichu's own newfound drive. Not saying another word, Eoin nodded, closing his eyes without a struggle.

"N-No need to worry," Argon said, fighting off the tremors as best she could as Eoin's breaths turned to growls. "I… I got this."

Argon's cheeks gave off brief sparks that shined faintly in the near darkness. She took a deep breath, before stepping onto the crate. All eyes seemed to stare at her at once, towards the strange, unassuming Raichu previously known to both camp and revolution.

"H-Hey everyone," Argon said, her own tone only just audible through the room. "I'm—"

Just like that, Argon's mouth and thoughts alike locked up. She cursed inside, her fight or flight instinct acting up against the dozens of eyes staring at her, whose pupils all seemed to reflect against the lantern ember like stage lights.

Push yourself through it, Argon. Long overdue you had to do something like this. You… you have pokemon that are relying on you now. This is the first step to being better.

"I'm Argon," she said, almost sighing in relief at the impromptu pep talk. Before her mind could lock up any more, however, she felt a slight poke. The Raichu turned, eyes widening meeting the gaze of a smiling Charmander. A second past of silence, the outside world seeming to fade into oblivion. The Charmander beamed a giddy and undoubtedly feral grin, its tail causing brief wisps of smoke as it wagged to and fro. She couldn't exactly put her paw on it, but… the words seemed to come easier, worries soothed even knowing the support she received wasn't from the same Eoin.

"Most of you don't know me," Argon said, anxiety slowly washing away as a soft, almost purring growl left Eoin's maw. "A-and for good reason. Before I came across Eoin, and… someone else, I was more or less like any other pokemon in the guild. Just went day to day, doing my job. T-too focused on running away from responsibility and hardship to consider something like this could exist."

The eager anticipation of the surrounding pallids faded a tad. A few pairs of eyes toward the Raichu shifted, realizing the faint reflection of the lantern against the guild badge pinned to her bag. For the most part, however, they kept silent, motioning Argon to go on as she scratched the back of her neck.

"Now though, I-I wanna try and be better. Want to try and have… everymon be better. If we can work together to show all the pokemon across Faire what's happening here, and let them understand that pokemon and pallids deserve to live side by side with them, t-then… we might build a future based on mutual respect."

"What right do they have for respect?"

A sharp breeze accompanied the silence of the exclamation, causing the fragile wooden door of the cabin to shudder on its hinges. Holding the door closed, Piolu joined the others in identifying the source, finding it to be a small Carkoal. Only the pallid's simmering coal stack peaked above the crowd, not even able to lock eyes with Argon until the crowd had made some room between them. A few pallids gave questioning looks, though most joined Piolu in keeping a neutral stare.

"I...I mean it," the Carkoal said, rocky body jittering upon realization that all eyes were on him. "After they keep us locked up here for decades doing their dirty work, hold some on the brink of starvation to control us, and don't even have the courage to tell the rest of Faire that we exist, why should we feel the need to give them what they've held from us for our entire lives? We can't gain our freedom if we're going in with one claw tied behind our backs, and they're sure not gonna stop from cutting us down if they know we won't hit back."

As quiet as a whisper, a murmur of agreement began from a pallid in a far off corner, spreading slowly but surely to a couple more. Argon's fur tensed up at the question. Her paws rubbed over themselves as her mind took to drafting a response. A couple of pallids held claws, paws, or wings to their bellies, while others looked down to eye the scars a life of labor caused. Standing up straight on all fours, Piolu stepped forward, those in the crowd parting until he had taken a position close to the Carkoal's side.

"Kid has a point," Piolu said, eyeing those in the crowd one by one, before looking to Argon with a furrowed brow. "So long as they have the power, they don't have a reason, or a need to listen to us if we don't have any leverage. A rattata's words sound pretty cheap to a hungry seviper, but if they understand that blood is on the line, blood that is actually valuable to them, well… it might be our only chance. Sure, they have an army out there, but here, we outnumber any guards ten to one."

As the lantern above Argon's head dwindled to a cinder, a vine raised from a Ivysaur in the crowd, lifting up another lantern between the Raichu and Stoutland to replace it. Having more wax, and a thicker wick, the lantern blazed a burning flame, one that seemed to crackle with the ever increasing mutters of the crowd. 'Makes sense', 'Reckless', 'Poor odds', 'The only way', all phrases Argon could catch. All eyes seemed to point towards the Raichu with the growing murmuring. A couple somewhat aggressive, though most befuddled, their faces flickering in the light as a single question ran through their minds.

"I'm up for following any plan you 'mons think best," the Carkoal said, tone an echo of the crowd, "but...why? What's one decent reason we should feel the need to care about them now?"

"I hate to put you on the spot," Piolu continued, "but the troops here deserve to know that much. 'Specially if there's a risk one of the makers of this plan might not be… all there, when we cross the point of no return."

Eoin seemed unaware of the comment, deferring to resting on the floor while his wide, grey eyes beamed toward Argon. The Raichu attempted to find some solace in those eyes, mind working a mile a minute attempting to parse together a suitable answer.

"B-because…"

Her cheeks crackled like a circuit under stress.

"Because…"

Tone only moderately reassured, Argon's gaze absently scanned over the feral Charmander. The prior events of the past month cycled through her mind. Her spine shivered, the air in the room taking an almost underground chill to it. Clarity seemed too far out of reach, until… she froze, light from the shaking lantern shifting to reveal the faint outline of a scar on the edges of Eoin's tail.

"Because it's a cycle," Argon said.

"Hmm?" A voice rang out from the crowd.

Piolu's brow furrowed, many pallids joining in as the Raichu began to rally. From atop the crate, Argon took a knee, looking each pallid in the eye before slowly placing her paw on the back of Eoin's neck.

A gasp erupted through the crowd along with a quick chirp from Eoin. All eyes went to the Pallid, half expecting the feral charmander to burst into panic at the outsider's touch. One second passed, then two, then three, until it became abundantly clear that, to the once aggressive being leaning into Argon's paw, nothing could be further from a stranger.

"E-Eoin and I weren't too different when my partner and I first came across him in a dungeon," Argon said, "we both thought the other was mindless, that they wouldn't listen, t-that the best thing to do was attack with a thunderbolt or flamethrower until the other was unconscious… or worse, and move on with our day. We both spent our whole lives living to that cycle, not thinking anything of it. But, it didn't have to be that way."

Argon figured a fair portion of the grey pokemon could be colored unmoved, though most could not hide their uncertainty at the sight of a feral pallid leaned so trustingly against the Raichu's paw. The piercing eyes of a Corviknight glazed over as it seemed to look back to days past. More soon followed, every flicker of the lantern revealing pallids in recollection of feral minds and actions.

"I-I… we never knew then that it didn't have to be blood against blood," Argon said, taking their stares as permission to continue. "We never knew that rising up with a gesture of kindness was what it took to change the unchangeable."

With a quivering paw, Argon reached forward, grasping Eoin's tail just below the Pallid's gingerly flowing ember. The flame jumped up a bit with a chirp from the Charmander, though lulled back with the Raichu's touch. Lifting the tail for all to see, all eyes went to the scar on Eoin's tail.

"A partner who had more than a few reasons to dislike Eoin helping to bandage his wound, A-a berry held out when he was trapped… or a pallid that had every instinct to attack me instead choosing to—"

Argon let out her own yelp as Eoin leaned his neck into her stomach, a soft purring noise leaving his maw that all of the surrounding pallids could hear. A few gasps went through the crowd, though most simply felt their expressions soften.

"To do that," Argon said, letting out a quick chuckle.

"That's all well and good," Piolu said, gesturing to the Carkoal at his side, "but a single 'mon and pallid is a whole lot different from us and them. How can you be sure two-face will be as willing to change as you and cuddlemander? Too many lives here to risk on a hunch."

Still levitating on her tail, Argon rose up, until she was close enough to the ceiling for all to see, and the beacon of the lantern was joined by her at its side. Though questions, objections, and trepidations ran through body and mind, there was no more room left to waver.

"I don't," Argon replied, "b-but… there are too many lives at risk not to try and break the cycle. I-I know I'm in no position to make demands after how much you all suffered, and how much I supported it. But please, I ask that we all give it a chance, showing ourselves to the pokemon out there without attacking. It may not look like it, but there are good pokemon out there, and if we can show them that the only thing you all want is to be treated with respect, w-well, we might be able to get out of the system we're all trapped in."

A silence filled the room, one Argon could not tell whether it was from a crowd of shock, acceptance, or disinterest. For a half second, a vision of the last time the Raichu had to make a speech (still a Pichu, and at the instruction of a certain ninetales) flashed through her eyes. For all the curious stares she faced then and now, the stakes of how those of the latter would turn were much higher than personal shame.

"... I believe her."

As quiet as a whismur, a Lombre near the center of the crowd was the source. Argon had flinched at the voice, needing a second to comprehend the pallid's genuine nature. Another pallid joined in, murmuring slightly louder, and another, until a soft majority of the crowd was offering tentative agreement. The Carkoal offered its own nod, while Piolu, looked at the surrounding crowd, grunted a quiet affirmative.

"Makes sense."

"Best to be the better 'mon on this."

"They'll listen… at least I hope to Arceus they do."

"Somemon's coming!"

The flow of adrenaline through Argon's body at the pallid's agreeance and cheers, while unlike anything she had experienced beforehand, was cut short by the call. A voice called out from the field, matching the tone of a Deerling.

"H-hello?! Something going on in there? You all know the rules. Gotta get nighttime inspection done before any of us can get some shuteye."

The pallids moved with an efficiency Argon could guess was well rehearsed. The world around Charmander and Raichu went into motion as pallids set themselves on the stacked shelves; some snored convincingly enough to fool her if she hadn't seen them standing up seconds before. Any footprints revealing signs of assembly were dusted off, and all the pamphlets were hastily shoved into one of the trap doors. As the final stages were set, Piolu approached the two, giving a few quick taps to the last open hidey hole.

"Best the two of you get yourselves comfy in there," Piolu said, hastily glancing to the door as Flora's voice drew closer. "No offense, but it wouldn't do the cause any good for her to see either of you right now. I'll stall her as long as I can."

Not having any time to object, Argon ushered Eoin and herself into the sparse confines of the trapdoor, hearing a lurching thud as the door closed on top of them. Only Argon's paw to the ferals lips kept him from coughing when a bit of sand went into his maw. As the two laid on their sides beside each other, they heard another creak from the door, as well as the footsteps of a single pokemon leaving.

"Flora, was it?" Piolu said, "Yeah, sorry for the noise. Couple of the 'mons were still a bit riled up from the storm. Some thing, wasn't it?"

"I guess so," Flora replied, giving a slow yawn. "L-Let's just get this over with. I'm sure we all know the drill by now."

Any attention Argon had to the conversation cut off when she saw Eoin blink. She knew that blink. Knew it as well as the feral growls that had brought the Pallid to his state in the first place. Another soon followed, and in their predicament, Argon couldn't tell whether she was more relieved or panicked.

"W-Wha?" Eoin said, voice halfway between a growl, "What happened? Did it… did it go we—"

Eoin was shushed again by Argon's paw to his lips, as well as two sets of footsteps creaking against the flooring above. The Pallid's expression took a gloomy nature realizing where he was; he could scarcely look Argon in the eye, for in her irises he knew he'd see his own reflection.

"I-uh, yeah," Argon replied, voice a whisper only Eoin's close presence could detect. "A-as well as it could have, I guess."

The lingering bits of adrenaline in the Raichu weren't difficult to spot, and where shame had fallen oven the pallid's conscious, an equal parts of relief went with it. Taking a deep breath, his eyes turned bright, not the feral giddiness of before, but equal in spirit.

"Then… thank you, Argon. My only regret is that I couldn't have been there to assist. You stepped up where I couldn't, and because of that, the stage is set."

The Raichu's cheeks crackled in excitement. For all the reassurances between them, however, they were again belated, as Argon's gaze drew over to a small pebble in between them. It was an inconsequential thing, but in its stony visage, Argon could almost see the body of a Bagon under it. Her thoughts drew back, blue scales through a dilapidated toolshed flashing through her vision as if the last time they had spoken was not hours, but months ago.

"I-I guess it is," Argon replied, a tinge of anxiety sparking through her cheeks. "We still have a long way to go, and a lot to sort out between the three of us, but nothing's happened so far that we can't handle. I'll make sure to brew some grepa berries on our way back to Pith Town. A-and… there's something about Chimera I should probably tell you on our way back."

Not another word was said between the two as the inspection came and went. The moon continued its ascent over the sky in preparation for a new day, the only source of guidance those in the shed had, as the blazing lantern above was put out.
 
Chapter 29: A Time to Shine
"You're sure they got the message, Sir? I'd… rather not have them wandering through forests or the airfield while we're sitting here drinking sitrus berry smoothies and watching the Wingul fly by."

Were it not for the clouds of black smoke from the steam boats across the way, or the constant hustle and bustle of goods and pokemon alike being shuffled around Chimera and Binair, the Bagon would have thought he was on vacation. A soft, tropical breeze blew through the sizable Port Obstand, though any sound was quickly overshadowed by steps of guild member across the wide expanse of docks stretching out from the course sand.

"Not to worry, old chum," Binair replied, a metallic mug with a half coconut exterior telekinetically raising to his lips. "I took great care in ensuring your friends were informed of our whereabouts for our departure. They should be arriving in a few hours. From the reports I've read of your initial return, the two were very eager to leave after receiving rudimentary care."

Had Chimera kept any less company with Binair, he wouldn't have noticed the tinge of wariness in the Girafarig's tone. Aiming for a bit of distraction, Chimera gestured to a wooden bench at the end of one of the docks. Shuffling past a Marowak, Graveler, and Palossand working their way onto one of the dock's sandwiching steamships, Chimera planted himself on the bench. Binair lied himself on an adjacent cushion meant for more quadruple pokemon, inadvertently blocking Chimera from seeing a quizzical look somewhere in the boarding line.

"Well… between you and me, Sir, I'd say that mission you sent us on helped them connect a bit more than most teammates. Guess they were eager to go somewhere private," Chimera replied, giving Binair a cheeky shoulder tap. His coy smile faltered, however. He bit his lip, arms jittering a bit as he took a drink; a half truth, though one that would help uphold his agreement with Charmander and Girafarig alike. Binair said little.

Chimera made to speak, only to be cut off by three loud blares of a siren in the distance. The Bagon nearly jumped out of his seat at the noise, and seeing that some of the content's of Binair's cup had splashed onto his neck, the Girafarig seemed similarly startled.

"What in blazes?" Binair said. "I thought I'd told the port manager the westward dock was closed off for mooring until construction was complete. You alright, old chum?"

Chimera blubbered a half response, only to freeze part way feeling his scales a tad...wetter than usual. It was only when Chimera looked down, and saw a cold, pinkish, tasty liquid on his chest, below his now half empty cup, that he let out a defeated nod toward Binair. Glancing down, and realizing his free hand had subconsciously lowered to his crossbow at the noise, Chimera spotted its source.

Another steamboat, a tad smaller than the others moored in the docks, though perhaps that appeared only because the ship was about a football field's ways away in the water. The paddle behind the vessel spun in an unending rotation, churning up the otherwise clear tropical water, and steering it on a course that seemed to take it speeding toward the far right of the dock. Chimera could barely make out the figures of pokemon running topside.

"Y-yeah, fine Sir," Chimera replied, wiping off a bit of the drink so it fell in the water. "Blue scales wash off far easier than a white collar shirt. You know… you should have seen me during my first attempt at interviewing for management. Bought a cheap suit after working at that place for two years. Didn't count on my nerves getting to me when I got a cup of coffee in front of the interview room."

Chimera let out a chuckle, his smile fading as his eyes glazed over to the horizon. A small tap of a hoof shot him back to attention, just as a psychic aura emanated around the leftover bits of his chest. Soon, his scales were clean, with what remained diffusing into the water below.

"Well, no need to worry about that here, old chum," Binair replied, "You probably read just as many books as I did preparing for that interview. I suppose the difference is that it does wonders for unlocking potential when our efforts are rewarded. Take there, for instance."

Like clockwork, Binair's cane lifted from his mane pouch, its gold lined tip pointing to the western end of the harbor. Hammers pounding, cranes lifting, and pokemon shouting directions soon replaced the initial siren in Chimera's ears. A Weezing, one with bushy green mustaches of smoke, directed the organized cacophony of construction taking place. One second, the Weezing was giving orders to an Aggron, Rillaboom, and Dragonite carrying large, stone docking posts on their backs, the next it was listing off schematics for where a team of Sandaconda were clearing holes for the posts with a geyser of sediment.

"Yeah, best playing to your strengths, I guess," Chimera added "Couldn't lift one of those posts if you asked me before. Now? Damn things have a radius greater than my entire arm. Probably just as good as that Weezing at moving sand, too, even without the crutch. Staying behind a desk can be rough, course, and irritating, but at least it depends on the part of me I took time building up."

"And a much more useful part, if I do say so," Binair replied, eyes narrowing between Chimera, and the Weezing. "A mind that can delegate work is just as, if not more valuable than the ten, twenty, or a hundred bodies that execute it. In fact… how about a little pop quiz? You see those Mankeys, over there?"

With a bit of searching, Chimera nodded. Three Mankeys, hiding behind a pile of planks on the harbor just out of the Weezing's sight. Stout statures, fur ruffled and slightly stained from the fumes of the ships, and a posture between them that told the tale of pokemon that didn't have any plans on going back to work anytime soon.

"Yeah," Chimera replied, "I see 'em, and I've seen those same bitter scowls in the mirror enough to know they're not hiding because they're on break. Either someone took away their peeled chestnuts, or that construction has a taste of my good friend bureaucracy."

A slight smirk took to Binair's lips at Chimera's response. The Mankeys in question grumbled to themselves, heads dipping in a way familiar enough that Chimera half suspected their fur concealed bagged eyes.

"Given the latter," Binair replied, "what do you suspect are the causes of such inaction, and what could a leader such as that Weezing undertake to resolve it?"

Surprising Chimera most was how innate the answer came. Like a previously studied and stored away test answer brought to the forefront years later in a game of trivia, it rolled off his lips.

"Well… lack of efficiency could be one. Maybe that Weezing didn't do a good job delegating, and they're up a creek without a paddle waiting for instructions. Maybe the instructions they did get were poorly worded and the system they're lead under puts sitting around twiddling their nonexistent thumbs over asking questions to fix it. Or, maybe they simply haven't been given enough reason to work. Not enough carrot, not enough stick."

"A suitable start, old chum," Binair replied, a faint shout in the distance overshadowed by the horn of another ship leaving port. "I assure you, ports, ships, and guilds as big as these are not created by those willing to step back and accept the inefficient and directionless. A project like that construction needs a confident leader to keep it in motion. In fact, what say you to going over there for a little talk to those working? If there's anything I learned, it's that even the most… confrontational can be made productive given the proper incentive and direction."

Any confidence of Chimera's words was cut off by a loud gulp. He looked to the Mankees, as well as the overall crowd of pokemon at work on the dock, before glancing back to Binair. Chimera was half tempted to point a stubby hand at his chest and ask 'Me?', but the wide, expectant eyes staring at him from both front and tail of the Girafarig caught him in his tracks. Were instances like this not exactly what the Bagon wanted? Did he really get transported to another world, meet an everlasting companion, bargain with the legendary beings for a time gear, and nearly die climbing a mountain simply to back down from a bit of responsibility?

There wasn't any more room to question it. Lurching up to his feet with crutch in hand, Chimera pointed himself to the adjacent dock. A slight breeze billowed through the dock as he stood, causing the grey cape over the Bagon's back to ripple. To an outside pokemon, it looked quite heroic.

"I don't mind, Sir," Chimera replied, posture strengthening with every gust of wind. "Not at all. I promise you, I'll—"

A stray breeze also caught wind of the cape, sending a corner straight into the Bagon's face. The world seemed to freeze for half a moment, before relenting as the obstructing fabric fell.

"I mean… I'll take care of it."

"I have no doubt," Binair replied, "after all, it's an educational experience."

---​

No sooner had the words left Binairs mouth had Chimera immersed himself in the slew of pokemon moving this way and that between the lines of docks, and stained cedar buildings lining the silk sand coast. In exception to the workers crowding the western end of the harbor, the pokemon Chimera passed were unified by in having the same three letters emblazoned on their badges. On his right, a wide eyed team of Cyndaquil and Squirtle were departing to the more inland dungeons, just as a Bagon and Raichu had made routine. On his left were a more roguish Serperior and Blastoise, escorting one of the many carriages of gold, cedar, cobblestone, meat, and somewhat familiar vegetables. Chimera watched as the Squirtle went up to one of the shops, ordering his own sitrus berry smoothie.

"Huh. Wonder what the odds are he knows where the berries came from," Chimera whispered, tone matter of fact. "Fifty fifty? Thirty seve—"

"So…"A large, dry hand pressed down onto Chimera's shoulder. "You're the one the boss has taken a liking to. Thought I recognized your face. Been getting cozy with the big guy, huh?"

The world seemed to freeze, crowded conversation going by the wayside in lieu of the course voice behind him. Had Chimera any fur or hair on his body, they would have surely stood up.

"Just trying to repay someone who's done well by me," Chimera replied, head locked in place while his peripheral vision looked desperately for the speaker's form. "Never liked the types that stab you in the back. Think of it as… networking."

A hearty trio of chuckles sounded behind the Bagon. Chimera remained frozen in place, though he again found his arm drifting ever so slowly to the weapon at his hip. After a second, however, he blinked, the gears beneath his rocky forehead beginning to turn.

"Hear that, boys?" the voice replied, a tinge of rowdiness under its chipper tone. "This 'mon might have a tougher noggin than any of us! Aimin' for the heights the way he is. Seems like nobodys even seen a trace of you not two months ago, and already you got a shiny gold badge to your name. Rank like that takes most 'mons years to get."

Chimera let out a chuckle, hoping it could hide that the hand loosely placed on his crossbow was starting to shake.

"W-what can I say?" he replied. "I try my best. Had a great partner to help get me there. Sure, in hindsight, we had a fair bit of special treatment, but our achievements are our own. I'll be a corpse before I let that get taken away. I hope there's no problem with that, is there?"

A distinct cracking sound grinded into Chimera's ears, akin to a skull being ground into dust. The Bagon nearly jumped out of his scales. Adrenaline fueled him to turn, but the warm hand gave enough motivation to stay still; his Bagon neck may have been strong, but with the right hand and a wrong sudden move, it'd only take a second to break it. Tilting his head ever so slightly, he could now see that the hand had a dark, purple tinge to it.

"I've seen you before, haven't I?" Chimera said.

"Sure have," the voice replied. "And I've seen that partner of yours. She's one of the good ones. But enough talk! A 'mon like you trying to flap your wings into those upper echelons of the guild? What do you say we give him a proper welcome, boys?"

Chimera's muscles tensed, primed at the ready to butt heads with the figure behind him. He felt something at his side, as dry as the hand on his shoulder, and curved like a makeshift club.

"L-Look," Chimera said, apparent club at one side, fidgeting stock of the crossbow against his other, "we're in the middle of a crowded harbor, and if you got a bone to pick with me, there are better ways to settle this. Can we talk this out like civilized people, or is this gonna...gonna…"

He sucked in a breath, eyes wide getting a clear view of the apparent bone at his side. Balanced on the very end of the bone was a wooden bowl, holding a crushed pile of chestnuts.

"Apologies," another voice rang out, more demure than the first, "Helios… can be a bit more upfront than most. Works well in a dungeon, though. Do the chestnuts taste alright?"

Turning around, it was a bit easier for Chimera to refrain from headbutting the pokemon behind him; if the Marowak, Graveler, and Palossand did get hit, he suspected he wouldn't be on the winning end.

"Don't get your hands tied up, Vish," the Marowak replied, giving Chimera a pat on the back as he smiled under his mask. "You know I wouldn't let things get serious. I'll take a decent dungeon and loot over directin' 'mons from behind a desk any day of the week, but anyone willing to take that up is fine by me. Hope the entrance wasn't too blunt."

"I've… seen worse," Chimera said, shaking his cast leg at the three with a smile. "Like to think I'm better at using what's in my noggin than whats around it. Can't imagine when a pallid butts heads with you guys, you get two broken limbs and fly through the air like a pinball."

"Well… " the Palossand whispered.

The otherwise silent 'entrance' of Palossand's mouth drew a deep sigh from Helios. He raised his hand to the side of his skull, scratching the sides as if rubbing temples.

"Ya got me there, Courser," Helios replied, "but if Arceus wants to come down and explain his thoughts giving a foot tall, grey Budew a godsforsaken solar beam, he can be my guest. Mate and kids'll have enough of a laugh at it once I get home."

The Marowark shook his head, outer cranium not hiding a bit of frustration. While Vish's top right arm gave Chimera a wave, the Bagon took a tentative hold of one of the chestnuts. A nibble at the exposed inside soon turned into a bite, and swallow. Seeing Chimera's nod, a content smile settled over the Graveler.

"Anyway… 'preciate the good humor in all of this," Helios replied. "May have only seen you a few times, but not a lot of 'mons I know would have kept their cool during that little performance. Not to mention I got a Cubone at home who'd probably kill to play with a gadget like you got. You were the one Flora was giving a tour of the, uhh… agriculture, weren't ya?"

"Yeah," Chimera replied, glancing left and right to a couple of the less informed teams passing them on the dock. "First taste of it. Guess it was necessary if I-we're gonna be working with more of you guys. I know I saw you in the fields, but Argon did mention your team a couple times… where exactly is the line between guards and resource teams?"

"If you're asking for the dotted line," Courser piped up, while his left sand bastion tilted up like a finger being raised, "you'll find that at the bottom of our contracts. We got the most benefits from the two week on, two week off agreement for guarding when we signed up. Just last year a pallid, grey vaporeon we came across dungeoneering thought it would be a great idea to turn to water and tackle a pokemon of animate sand. Can you guess how much it would have cost in health insurance?

Chimera spent more time than he'd like to admit trying to think that one through. A look toward Vish met a four armed shrug from the Graveler, while Helios shook his head slow enough to quash any curiosity in the Bagon. Clearing his throat, Helios looked back at Chimera, his face seeming to loosen under the mask.

"Look, my point here is that we're on the same team," Helios said, "I made my choices and I don't regret 'em, but before I had a mate and kids, trying to figure out the life I wanted took a lot of wandering. From what I've seen of you and the big 'mon in charge, you have that same decision ahead. Ever need help, and Team Tectonic would be happy to—"

"Look out!"

The voice was weathered, yet still had a sense of pride to it, perhaps because it was not one voice, but two. In stereo, the identical calls sounded, followed immediately by a deafening crash.

"What's that ten gallon hat saying no—... oh no…" Helios whispered.

Chimera saw the eyes of Helios, Vish, and even Courser widen before he could turn around. A half second passed where the three's mouths held open to speak, only to be silenced by another splintering crunch. Turning around, Chimera saw it.

A ship, a somewhat familiar one, was close to the half constructed dock. Very close. So close that its large, aft pedal was still spinning, while its bow had carved out a six foot gap into the harbor. Pokemon scurried. Panicked yells echoed left and right. About a dozen sailing pokemon rushed out from the confines of the ship to the upper deck. At the bridge, Chimera spotted a tricorn-wearing Areodactyl tugging desperately at the throttle lever.

For a millisecond, none of the four pokemon acknowledged each others presence. As with the others, Chimera's mind had gone into overdrive analyzing the situation.

"Shit," Chimera muttered. "Shit, shit, shit. Did anyone…"

Most had made it out alright. Shoulders bumped against wings bumped against fins with the deluge of pokemon running past the four away from the dock. Near the bow at the edge of the dock, Chimera only saw two figures. The first, a Weezing, floating not in the air, but lying in a heap near where the ship had initially struck. A deep gash had hit along the larger of its two bodies, spilling a thick, purple substance.

While the Weezing was thrown clear of the ship's path from the collision, another wasn't so lucky. A second loud thunk hit the air, accompanied by a scream. In the haste to retreat, a concrete mooring pillar had been dropped, landing firmly on the legs of a Mankey not two dozen feet in front of the lurching steamboat. It grasped the course edges of the pillar in a desperate attempt to move it, finding little purchase as the steamboat moved closer.

"... I-I got the Mankey," Chimera said.

"I'm on the Weezing," Helios replied, nearly simultaneously.

A side eye from Helios to Chimera for his exclamation was returned in kind. They didn't have long, however, for another moment of staring brought a second cry for help from the Mankey.

"What should we do, boss?" Courser said, gesturing to Vish with his sandy barricade. "There's not—"

"Crowd control," Helios and Chimera replied.

The latter understood the former's sideways glance a little better now. The Bagon's words seemed instinctual, with past training just barely able to lull Chimera's trepidating hand. Sharing a nod, Vish and Courser sprang into action, towards opposite bunches of pokemon on the harbor.

"You sure you got this, kid?" Helio said, glancing towards Chimeras stilts as he bolted toward the Weezing. "You-uh… don't look so hot."

"As long as there's no slight gusts of wind," Chimera replied, half-hobbling half-scurrying towards the Mankey, "I'll be fine."

The dock boards thudded under Chimera's feet, pace about equivalent to a medium jog if he were in perfect condition. Scrambling over a loose pile of scrap wood next to the large stack of boards, he was about a dozen feet from the Mankey, with the ship a similar distance away on the other side.

"Wha… wha-what should we do?"

Chimera froze, hearing another voice on the opposite side of the boards.

"I don't know," another voice yelled back, "What are you asking me for? We can't stay here. We gotta go someplace safe. We gotta—who in Landorus' beard are you?"

Turning the corner, he saw them. The two other Mankey of the bunch, huddled behind the pile of wood. Their eyes darted left and right between Chimera and the ship, knees shaking as if the air was filled with stun spores. Giving the two only a cursory glance, Chimera prepared to turn back to the imperiled Mankey, only to nearly stumble to the floor. As a shot of pain went through his crutched arm, Chimera eyed the concrete slab. The Mankey had made no purchase getting it off, and with his own half broken limbs, he would be of little help.

Unless…

Quick as a ninjask, Chimera shot back to the two Mankeys, pointing his free hand at each of them.

"You two, with me! W-We gotta get your friend free, and I can't do it alone."

The Mankeys glanced behind themselves, as if Chimeras arm was pointing to invisible figures standing on the open water behind them.

"You out of your mind?!" one said. "You want us to run toward the crashing ship?"

A horn from the vessel blarred, its hulking frame inching forward. A panicked response from Chimera was cut off by the warning yells of the topside pokemon. He didn't have much time.

"Look, I…" Chimera said, adrenaline overtaking his words.

There was no time left for subtly. More boards from the harbor snapped, moving towards the entrapped Mankey like a fault line cracking. It was all instinct now. Shoring his footing, Chimera glared at the two Mankey, posture raising in spite of the crutch.

"If you don't help me get your friend free," Chimera said, voice rising by the second, "then he's either going to get very, very hurt, or something far worse. Are you in?"

The Bagon's exclamation shot them to attention. The Mankeys looked to Chimera, befores shifting to the approaching ship and back at each other. Still, their legs did not move.

"So… that's how it's going to be," Chimera whispered.

The two Mankeys retreated an inch. Even as the words left his mouth, Chimera needed to double check that the authoritarian voice was his. Scanning across the harbor for a moment, Chimera looked back at the two, his hand lowering a tad to his weapon.

"If you don't help me," Chimera said, words seething, "then I will make sure you both spend the rest of your lives as unpaid sod farmers with barbed wire fence as your lawn decure. Do you want that, or are you gonna help me? You should know I have some friends in high places."

It was enough. Whether the Bagon's face, or the golden badge pinned to his bag, the two Mankeys gaze trembling nods. Nodding to the two, Chimera joined them in making their way to the pillar. Once there, the Mankey greeted them with a groan. His leg below the pillar was stained with blood, and the ship was but a half dozen feet away.

"Arrghh… hurry!" the Mankey yelled.

They were quick to oblige. With his new 'team', Chimera grabbed hold of the end of the pillar with his free hand. They pulled.

The pillar went up a smidge, but trying to pull his leg out brought only another yell from the Mankey.

"C-come on, it's getting closer!" The Mankey yelled.

They tried again, with equal success. The splintering of boards against the bow was their timer. A little bit more, and the dock would collapse.

A third attempt. No dice.

"It's—arrgh—it's no use," Chimera grunted, teeth gritted. "We need… we need…"

His eyes widened. The two Mankey gave him a quizzical look, one that did little to stop the smile on his face.

"A lever," he whispered.

"We don't have time!" a Mankey replied. "The ship will be here any second."

Even as he heard the words, Chimera's mind went on overdrive. He searched around. No dice. The closest thing on the floor that would suit the purpose were the discarded two-by-fours two dozen feet away. He needed something else. Something sturdy. Something with leverage.

Whether from his own intuition, or simple dumb luck, he found it. As another horn from the ship crashed through their eardrums, Chimera reached into his satchel. Gesture having been well practised, he took out a bolt, and with the sharp edge cut the string of his crossbow off at the end of the prod.

"In Kyogre's name, what are you—oh."

Aiming the crossbow to the floor, Chimera wedged the free prod between the pillar, and the dock. He then took hold of the stock, pushing it so the prod would lift up. The Mankey needed only a second to think before they had taken a similar action.

"Come on," Chimera yelled. "Pull!"

"Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on…"

"Almost… there! N-No, too la—"

"Jump!"

The dock itself seemed to shake as the ship plowed into it. Once sturdy pillars snapped apart like toothpicks against the many-thousand ton vessel. It crashed forward like a lumbering giant, decimating the last fourth of the dock, before coming to rest just feet from the shoreline. It was a gargantuan sight, made even more so by Chimera's underwater viewpoint. His arms flailed. The thought of a watery grave hit him just as a pair of arms and… something else took hold.

When Chimera resurfaced, he was greeted by the sight of three Mankees. After blinking the water from his eyes, another voice called him to attention.

"Everything within hand? I came here as soon as the commotion was within check."

Turning around, Chimera spotted on the opposite dock, a familiar Girafarig, along with a Helios, Courser, and Vish.

"F-fine, Sir," Chimera replied, before letting out a few hacking coughs of water. "Just… taking a little dip to learn some swimming. Was either the big, terrifying ship about to slice you in half here, or the public swimming pool back home."

---​

"Everyone made it out alright?" Chimera asked.

A towel wrapped over his shoulders, fueled by the telekinetic power of Binair. Chimera's feet dangled over the now splintered edge of the dock. Staring into the clear, marine water below, he saw the reflection of Binair at his side, both figures coming in and out of focus with the droplets dripping from Chimera's leg.

"A little shaken up, old chum, but yes," Binair replied, a slow sigh following. "I'm having the port administrator interviewed as we speak. I suppose it's somewhat fitting an Aerodactyl have difficulty understanding the tonalities of the modern steam engine. Accidents happen, but perhaps I should be a little more prudent integrating new technology so rapidly into the guild."

Glancing over his shoulder, Chimera caught a glimpse of the Aerodactyl. Even a hundred feet away, his crooked tricorn stood out a mile. Below it was a look of absolute incredulity, facing the questions Team Tectonic.

"I… I don't know what happened," the Aerodactyl replied. "One second, we're pulling into the harbor and everything's roses, the next the engine controls get jammed!"

"And where was the captain during this?" Helios asked, feet tapping.

A long pause. From a distance, Chimera saw the Aerodactyl scraping his claws against each other.

"I-uh. Uhh...on the shore," the Aerodactyl replied. "W-we got in a bet over who deserved their wages more. Had a month's salary riding on being able to handle that ship for one day."

If Chimera's arms could reach high enough to face palm, he would have. Binair's tail seemed to snicker likewise.

"Well, I'm glad to hear no one got hurt, Sir," Chimera replied, looking back down to the splintered dock at his feet. "If… if you don't mind me saying, Mr. Boulder Bird seems like he's got smaller responsibilities than business in mind."

Binair's mouth opened just in time for another exclamation from the Aerodactyl. For a moment, it almost seemed like the Girafarig was mustering a defense, only to be replaced by a short nod to Chimera.

"He's the best manager I have for the port," Binair replied, before biting his lip. "Was, I mean. He'll be lucky to be stamping cans after this incident. Though… perhaps his folly brings with it some opportunity."

"Sir?" Chimera replied.

Chimera adjusted his hand on the port to steady himself, only to gasp as a sizable chunk buckled to the water under the pressure. Staring past their reflections, the long line of now scrap wood told a similar story. In spite of the accident, the majority of the pokemon walking through the dock had returned, including the work crew waiting on the adjacent dock.

"You don't mean— I couldn't."

"Is that so?" Binair replied, smiling at the Bagon's widening eyes. "Someone has to provide the leadership to get this project back on track, and the current gaseous director is getting treated for his wounds. If you showed one thing today, old chum, it's that you have the initiative. The qualities that follow are education, commitment, and most importantly, opportunity. Perhaps… Helios! Could you bring your team and the good administrator here?"

Chimera's chest thumped like a jackhammer. His hands shook. It took a great deal of willpower to keep his smile contained to passive curiosity. The palm trees swayed as the Aerodactyl and Team Tectonic approached.

"Need something, boss?" Helios said, prodding the Aerodactyl to the front of the team with his bone. "Seems like the gentleman gambler's given us everything he can. I'll have the report to you tomorrow."

"Merely offering some assistance to Chimera here," Binair replied, his gaze shifting between the three. "Should he accept picking up where the fine Weezing couldn't. After all, the best leaders only succeed by recognizing the knowledge of others. And you…"

The world seemed to sink in on the Aerodactyl with his silence. He tucked in his wings, as if trying to hide himself with a makeshift coat. Under his excitement, a tinge of empathy hit Chimera. He knew that look. The sullen eyes of thinking all was lost.

"Y-yes, Sir?" the Aerodactyl whimpered.

"Normally, a danger to life and property like this would warrant having those wings clipped to the lowest realms of this guild, but I'm willing to offer you a new position, of co-administrator."

Two beings on the harbor felt their insides twinkle with hope. It was the only time besides the wakeup that Chimera could remember pinching himself.

"You mean…" Chimera whispered.

Though he was far enough from Binair's head to hide his words, the Girafarig's tail caught it just fine. It's large teeth raised into a grin. Under its course nature, it seemed genuine.

"Correct, old chum," Binair replied, "though only if your rock and flying equal ensures you are well-trained in the fundamentals. A major stepping stone, but with the condition that another is crossed beforehand."

His hoof lifted, gesturing to the entourage of pokemon shooting the breeze at the adjacent dock. Concrete pillars were stacked for installation. Project plans stood idle above a fresh stack of lumber. The very world itself seemed to come into focus. Looking to Helios, the Marowak had a humored grin under his mask.

"Trial by fire, ain't it?" he said. "Guess you're getting that direction sooner than expected. Don't worry, though. We've had our fair share of helping with these projects, ain't that right, guys? We'll be with you."

Before Chimera even knew it, Binair had raised a hoof to him. It was a familiar gesture, with an offering that lifted down to him like a plush in a crane game. The world cleared. The cold of the mountain, the numbness in his broken leg, and for an infinitesimal moment, the memory of a certain Raichu and Charmander. It passed like the flowing breeze of the palm trees, all the while Chimera gave the hoof a hearty shake.

"T-thank you, Sir," Chimera said, roaring to life, "I won't let you down."

"You never have before," Binair replied, "I have no reason to doubt you now."

Chimera turned, about to make his way off the harbor. He stopped short, however, catching a look at Helios, with Courser and Vish flanking on both sides. Helios' purple hand, Vish' rocky arm, and even Courser's barricade were raised in a salute. The former's smile told of the gesture having a tinge of levity, but the meaning was all the same.

"Well… Sir," Helios said, sharing a look with Chimera. "What are your orders?"

The word seemed almost foreign to the Bagon, or at least the context. Eyeing the raised path before him, Chimera gave back his own toothy grin. His thoughts swam, awash in emotion at the wondrous new position ahead. A few grey clouds went over the evening sun, but he was content to lead in the shade.

It felt good.
 
Chapter 30: The Drift
"I could always tell his mannerisms and personality were somewhat unusual, but… human?"

Argon returned a nonchalant nod to Eoin, almost as if the two were gossiping over whether the Bagon snored in his sleep. Both had expected to spend at least a few hours via carriage or foot traveling from the airfield to Port Obstand, and yet due to the strange, noisy conglomeration of steel hustling them through the cobblestone roads, the day was as young as ever as they approached. Where one side of Eoin still mulled over the knowledge of Chimera's humanity, another, more feral part remained perplexed on the enigmatic combinations of pedals, wheel, and dials their Typhlosion driver used. It was a bumpy ride, if a fast one. After a pothole in the road nearly launched both Charmander and Raichu from their seats, an unspoken desire filled the two for a calming walk.

"I-I couldn't believe it either, at first," Argon replied. "Never thought a Raichu wandering out on the beach to avoid others could end up living something straight out of a story book. Or deserve to. He couldn't really take a punch or breathe fire, but… it gave him something different from other pokemon. Human or not, he's always stuck by me."

"And others seem to have noticed that extra something," Eoin whispered, not realizing the slight jump in his tail flame from its shield until it was too late. "Well… far be it from me to judge. I suppose we all have unlikely origins in this dangerous game we all have to play. Speaking of which…"

He looked left, and looked right. Argon similarly saw the long lines of guarded supply caravans they speed by, as well as the slight slouch in Eoin's posture. Just as the two saw an ocean-blue tinge through the thick brush of tropical flora on both sides, she scooted back to meet him. Only a few feet away in the driver's seat, after all, was a Typhlosion with a wandering ear. Not to mention that against the chilling nip of being open to the elements in a menagerie of steel, the huddled Charmander and Raichu could use some warmth.

"Besides meeting Chimera," Eoin whispered, against the constant drone of pistons, "this could also be a useful opportunity to further our aims for the revolution. To get the pallids to the guild hall, our success relies on departing from here. It's well-guarded, and equally defensible, but if we could enlist the sympathy of the port manager, this whole venture could get a lot easier."

"But… would they be willing to listen?" Argon replied, ears drooped down in thought. "I-I mean, if they do already know about the work farms, they've probably been with the guild for a lifetime, or at least as long as I've been. That's not easy to leave, even if we did have the damning evidence."

A turn out of the treeline, and to the cabins and docks jutting out of the yellow sand marked they were almost there. Eoin was silent with a claw to his chin, for longer than either he or Argon were comfortable with. Carriages of fruits and vegetables on their right rolled to the port town, while equally inconspicuous ones rolled away. With the constant chug of the engine, neither Raichu nor Charmander could make out the faint growls underneath.

"I don't know," Eoin replied, letting out a held breath. "I don't know. We can only hope that there are more pokemon ignorant than accepting across Faire. More pokemon that would be content having a pallid at their side, than down below washing a saddle."

As the rattle of wheels against ground turned from cobblestone to deck boards, Argon felt her cheeks spark from the sheer anxiety. Guild member or not, she was only one pokemon, and Arceus knew she had neither the charisma nor endurance to run around Faire advertising revolution like a particularly idealistic solicitor.

Pokemon on both sides of the harbor parted for the rumbling automobile to park. Argon and Eoin were glad to escape the incredulous stares departing their strange, mechanical carriage. The midday crowds seemed a bit thinner than usual, perhaps owing to the copious construction crews; Argon had to jump away making her way across the boardwalk to avoid a crew of three Mankeys, each carrying the last planks of wood from a pile like their life depended on it. Between the constant conversations, murmurs, and shouts from one work crew to the other, her ears raised hearing a single, distinct voice.

"D-do you hear that?" Argon asked, bumping shoulder to side against a Popplio in the process. "I… think that's Chimera. Probably best meeting up with him first."

As Raichu and Charmander wormed their way through the crowd, Argon couldn't tell what side of the caution tape the voice was coming from. One by one, they nestled past the wall of pokemon around the dock. A single ship, especially extravagant in spite of its size, was docked behind, having a group hastily running to paint over its chipped bow.

"Look," Chimera said, exacerbated voice becoming faintly audible, "I know you guys don't have Osha here, but I wanna speak with whoever thought putting a Wooper and Cloyster on lifting detail was a good idea. If you really need extra manpower, talk to me and I'll—"

Brown and blue eyes met across the boardwalk. Chimera nearly had to shout for his voice to project to the workers around his supply crate soapbox, and yet the rattle of his clipboard falling to the boardwalk hit both Bagon and Raichu like a gunshot. With more than enough shock to match Chimera's, Argon looked around. The same three Mankeys, with planks ready for installation and looking toward the Bagon for an order stuck on his tongue. A Marowak, Graveler, and Pallosand, who's faces clicked into her mind all too easy, giving their own directions to the rest of the work crew from a triangle formation with him at the center. A long line of freshly-made dock that stood between the two.

"Chimera, Sir?" A Morpeko said, flat cap nearly falling from its head as it reached for the clipboard. "Something wrong?"

He said nothing. First looking to Argon, then his own elevated position on the crate, Chimera looked as if jolted awake from a dream. Argon fiddled with her paws through the second of silence, her breath sucked out of her lungs.

"H-hey," Argon said.

Without thinking, Chimera lowered himself from the crate. Their eyes didn't break, saying all that could be said. A shrill wind cut through the warm air, ruffling fur and grey cape alike.

"Hey," Chimera replied. "I was just… I was just helping with… "

Shaking his head, Chimera turned to meet the Morpeko's curious look, and the clipboard outstretched in its hand.

"Could you tell Team Tectonic that I'm letting them handle the finishing touches?" Chimera asked. "If anyone asks, just… tell them I have a very important meeting."

Argon got her own shock back to reality feeling Eoin's side brush against hers. A silent look between Raichu and Charmander asked the same question. The former felt her ears raise in a quaint spark of optimism, against a flickering flame from the latter. Both could feel the air starting to feel a little heavier.

"I-It's good to see you," Argon said, taking a step up against the caution tape perimeter. "I know things have gotten a bit more complicated recently, but it's reassuring being a team again."

Chimera took a step forward, as Argon did the same. Eoin stood back watching the two meet in the middle, looking to the dock and extravagant ship on the other end like a chess board. With how the Bagon moved, it wouldn't be long before he reached the other side.

"Great seeing you too, Argon," Chimera replied, holding his hand out to Argon across the caution tape line. "I-uh... "

It took him a second to remember his partner's ignorance to such a human gesture, nor could he hide from her the slight trepidation in his arm spanning across the black and yellow tape. A second passed where they starred, with only nervous chuckles to fill the silence. Argon may have not known how to return the foreign ritual, but from her warm smile, it seemed enough time with the Bagon had taught her its meaning. She raised her own paw, though only to gesture to the tape.

"I-Is it alright if we—"

"Oh!" Chimera replied, eyes shooting wide in realization. "Of course. Here. No-uh, no hardhats necessary. The project should be about done, and God knows I don't need one."

With Chimera's hand on one side of the tape, and Argon's on the other, the barrier was raised to let Raichu and Charmander through. Eoin's head was on a swivel as he walked behind the two, mental notes going through the Pallid's head on planks laid, blindspots in the guards, and the two psychic horns peeking up in one of the portholes.

"So this is your game," Eoin muttered to himself, eyeing the window. "I'm half a mind to judge, though... I can only hope I'm more earnest in raising her to the soapbox."

"If you don't mind," Chimera said, letting out a stiff cough before turning to Argon. "I was planning on attending a little meeting on that ship now that the work is done. Think it'd be only fair if we all went."

Argon only nodded. Even if she felt her levitation starting to falter with every step of the Bagon, the pieces seemed clicking into place. In a strange way, a small part of her had accepted there'd be a day when the Quilladin and Dewott guarding the gangplank would offer Chimera a salute. A shiver ran down her spine, in tandem with a strange spark in her cheeks. Politics aside, she should be happy, shouldn't she?

"This is about the team," Argon asked, "isn't it?"

It was Chimera's turn to be silent. Argon already knew the answer seeing her partner's head droop to the reflecting water below, though to what extent, she couldn't tell.

Indiscriminate chatter mixed in with an echoing creak as the hatch from above deck to below opened. From the inside of the steamboat, it seemed like someone had cut a chunk of the Guild Hall, stretched it to fit a hull, and carved port holes in the sides. A carved mahogany bar stood out against the utilitarian steel on the outside of the vessel, while a glittering chandelier illuminated the red velvet carpet and silk green couches below. The centerpiece of the meeting room was a tall grandfather clock, with a face that seemed to peer into all who entered, and a swinging pendulum as big as a Girafarig's tail.

The comparison wasn't a coincidence. It was a modest crowd, some pokemon donning tricorns, others wearing caps all too similar to the Weezing, and all pinned with three gold lined letters that had nothing to hide. A familiar, sentient tail poked out through the crowd. Even when turned away to face a Kricketune, it was all too easy for its owner to spot the three pokemon who entered.

"You can inform the garrison, Gryllus, that their benefits will be organized post haste. They're the lynchpin of keeping the gears of the agriculture program running. I would be remiss not to—Chimera!"

With Raichu and Charmander at his flanks, Chimera gave Binair a wave. His body and mind seemed at odds crossing the crowd to Binair. Feet swaggered forth, creating a pressing time limit to think while his gaze remained locked to the carpet.

"Hello, Sir," Chimera replied, tone soft as his head raised a tad. "The dock construction is in the finishing stages. I can have a complete report to you by tomorrow. Is… is it up to standards? I know I could have managed the work crews a bit more efficiently, and when that Applin got mixed into the community lunch I knew I should've—"

"Completely," Binair replied, grinning back while his tail bobbed back and forth in rhythm. "Watching from here, I can say it may have gone faster with a certain ship-crasher in charge from experience alone, but in this instance, education took precedence. And it will continue to, now that I can confidently say our little agreement has been fulfilled."

A sideways glance from Chimera met his partner's eyes. Her stance seemed familiar, if a little more stalwart. He'd seen that droop in her ears, crossing a gangplank with a bronze badge pinned close to a time gear. As she looked to Eoin, however, there was… something else. Her gaze wandered to a nearby porthole, to where another tarped carriage was driven from the port. Even through the chatter, she could almost hear the growls of the pallids. Confused. Alone. The Raichu of yesterday neither knew of them, nor was needed to help, but now…

"I-uh, about that, Sir," Chimera said.

Binair's brow furrowed, while Chimera found his tongue tied, and his feet locked in place between Girafarig on one side, and Raichu and Charmander on the other. His hand subconsciously lifted to his slung crossbow, absently fiddling with the sliver of rope that hadn't been cut. Back and worth, his head turned, like a metronome of its own against the ticking clock. Teeth gritted, he took a deep breath. Fortune favored the bold.

"You've been good to me, Sir," Chimera said, breathing a sigh of relief after finding his breath. "Great, in fact. I still intend on following through with this training, but I made an agreement."

Glancing over his shoulder, he looked at Argon. Shock, incredulity, and a fair bit of relief seemed to flow through the Raichu.

"Chimera," Argon said, "if this is for my sake, you don't need to— I-I might be a lot busier myself for the future."

A faint voice in the Bagon caught the meaning under her words, but the rest of Chimera's mind only shored his footing.

"It's not just that," Chimera replied, turning to Binair. "I'm sorry, Sir, but I can't… I shouldn't compromise on this. More than I already have, at least. I'm all for the training, but we'll need to keep it part time, so the team we have can keep going. Is that alright?"

Binair's poker face broke just a tad as he held his breath. His head tilted, his tail gnawing at open air as he glanced back to Chimera and Eoin. For a moment, Binair's gaze lingered on the latter, meeting the Charmander's unmoving goggles with an equally cold stare. A blink from Chimera, and the Girafarig looked back, signature smile returning.

"I respect that, old chum. We can sort out the details for hours once the boilers get their coal, and we set off back to Pith Town. You've certainly shown yourself consistent. You, Argon, and… Eoin, was it? With an O, if I remember—"

"With an E," Eoin replied, flame seething under its cover. "A common mistake. It is no trouble. I doubt you ever thought it important to prioritize matters so colorless."

What would have been silence a second too long was saved by a blaring horn above deck. Trotting aside to a carved, chocolate brown coffee table, Binair's tail bobbed up, smile jolting to attention an Inteleon behind the bar. His call was answered with the clang of four silver chalices set on the bar. As a psychic aura surrounded the drinks, and their crimson contents sloshed through the air, Binair set his hoof on the table. It hit a checkerboard surface, styled in yellow and brown with carved miniatures of Pawniard, Rapidash, Nidoqueen, and Nidoking, and many others dotting its surface.

"Well," Binair said, slowly moving one of the Pawniard forward with his hoof, "in any case, I apologize. It is a shame we haven't gotten the chance to talk more, Eoin. I can tell a 'mon of intellect when I see one. Would you mind a bit of chess between us once we set out? Wonderful human game, it is. Before that, though… a toast."

The chalices floated above them, spinning in a square. They floated down as if by parachute to arm's distance, their contents still swirling when Bagon, Raichu, and Charmander took hold. In spite of the tarped carriages outside being no less present, not to mention the hours ahead dungeoneering with Chimera taking the place of much more important hours, Argon held a tepid smile. One Chimera returned, though with a slight droop that only a Yamask could match.

"Care to make the toast, old chum?" Binair asked, chalice floating up between the four. "I'd say after your work here today, you more than deserve it."

"Uhh, yes Sir," Chimera replied, snapping back into reality. "Thank you."

Raising his chalice, at least as much as his stubby hands could, Chimera looked between the three. He cleared his throat, staring absently out of the porthole where the work crews and tarped carriages of Port Obstand moved in constant motion until he had found the words.

"To… to a bright future ahead."

"F-for all of us," Argon added, surprising even a bit of herself.

The drinks clinked, the evening passed, and before long the horn blared once more as the course set for Pith Town. Chimera spent much of the ride lying on one of the couches, while Argon and Eoin found themselves subconsciously nestling together on an adjacent chesterfield. The same grandfather clock sat in between the furniture, with a constant, unending tick no matter where Bagon or Raichu placed themselves.

---​

The week passed fairly quickly for Chimera. Days became myriads of activity, waking up in the same apartment, drinking the same cup of grepa berry tea, with the same Raichu to rise with in the bunk below. Where before, however, they would journey back to West Faire together with the setting sun at their back, he stayed. It never seemed to cause too much trouble, remaining at the port to supervise another project, or taking notes while a familiar Aerodactyl taught him the logistics of keeping thousands of soldiers, resource teams, and sailors working and content. After all, Argon seemed to always have her own thing to do after their daily missions.

He didn't have any time to ponder. With a clipboard in hand, and the salty port scent fresh in the air as the sun made its evening fall, Chimera made his own retreat. It was a quaint building, all things considered, built into an extension of the port just days ago. Stacked, yellow cinderblock walls with an orange, clay shingled roof. He eyed the wide, golden plate mounted above the door, finely engraved with bold letters.

Personal Office of one Chimera Droverson, WFG Port Comanager

"Still, never thought I'd see the day," Chimera whispered, letting out a chuckle to no one in particular. "A few more weeks, and pokemon here might stop asking me why I have two names."

It wasn't his first time in, yet the place seemed to have a strange familiarity under its fresh paint. Granite flooring, large cedar desk, and a rolling chair short enough that he didn't have to climb it like a ledge. Nailed to the back wall was a large map of shipping routes and hastily pinned reminders. As usual, the foremost said not to miss the late night ferry back to Pith Town, where a Raichu just as drowsy as himself waited in an apartment smaller than the office.

"Let's see… movie night tonight, right?" Chimera said, getting no response. "Just where did I put the—there."

With a spring in his step, Chimera jumped onto the rolling chair, sliding across the room until it hit the desk with a soft tap. Half buried under a mishmash of schematics, approval requests, and written reports, Chimera pulled out a thin, yet large movie reel. He grinned, wiping his hand over the title sticker; The Chimera of yesteryear may have preferred a flash drive and LED monitor, but he couldn't deny getting to watch Wiggly Wonka and the Chocolate Factory with his partner had its own charm.

The glint of nostalgia in Chimera's eyes was cut short by three short raps against the door. The Bagon nearly jumped out of his scales, even finding his hand drifting to a functionally useless crossbow (he'd repair it someday, just… not now).

"U-uh, come in!" Chimera said.

The door was well oiled, and Chimera heard not a peep as it opened until he caught sight of the visitor. Even then, all he could hear was his own hushed gasp.

"Hello, Chimera Sir," the Togetic said. "Sorry to intrude on a gloomy hour like this. It's just… I'm the new secretary around these parts. The Presider thought it prudent I assist you personally. Have some news from him, in fact."

Chimera blinked, then blinked again. His head tilted, gaze lingering for a second as if stuck in a dream.

"Course," Chimera replied, a bit too quickly for his liking. "Course. Appreciate the help, it's just… you just… never mind. If you don't mind me asking, Ms., what's-uhh, what's your name?"

"Eleanor," the Togetic replied.

"...Oh."

The last time Chimera met a secretary who could fly through the air without flapping her wings, it was he reporting to her. Realizing a bit too late that his guest was standing outside in the cold, Chimera gestured her in. His posture was a bit more rigid than usual, equally unsettled as he reached to the desk for a glass bowl of red and white mints, pulling out two (complimentary, of course. On a late night like this, he could go through a dozen).

"Want one?" Chimera said, walking a step forward so his stubby arm could bridge the gap. "And what's the news?"

The Togetic's feathers seemed to ruffle a bit, hesitating for a second before she took the mint.

"Right, Sir. Thank you. Construction of the guard posts around the new branch of the harbor has stalled, something about supplies coming in damaged or broken for some reason. The Presider was asking if you could help them make do with what they have before they clock in, tonight. Said he trusted you most to get this done. Offered overtime pay, too, for the hours you help tonight."

"Just a few more of those," Chimera mumbled, a dry grin on his maw, "and we'll have enough coins for two movie projectors in the apartment, but…"

Glancing back, Chimera let his gaze linger over to the mechanical clock on the desk. The hour hand was low. Too low. Inattentively, his hand lingered over the desk, to a homemade newton's cradle the Bagon would often occupy his time with. A single lift, and the contraption ticked and tocked, ball bearings fluctuating between the movie reel on one side, and the looming wall map on the other. Taking a deep breath, Chimera turned back; no use putting it off now.

"Yeah, sure," he replied. "Tell him I'll be right there. Gotta keep things running smoothly. Could you reschedule my ticket back to Pith Town two hours from now?"

"Right away, Sir," Eleanor replied, floating through the air to close the door behind her.

It was a bit too silent for Chimera's liking, with only the periodic ticks of the newton's cradle to keep him company. Posture drooping a tad, he made his own way to the door, glancing one last time at the film.

"Well… looks like movie nights gotta wait till next week."

---​

The week passed like a setting sun, leaving a season a tad less warm, and a bit more dreary than before. Palm trees stood stout against the cold breeze, while the early morning hours between Bagon and Raichu passed with their usual routine. Another bag of paydirt brought home. Another group of feral pallids knocked to the floor against thundershocks and crossbow bolts. Bandages and splints over limbs were soon discarded; time healed all wounds, after all. The physical ones.

With time, came another opportunity. On the outskirts of Pith Town, with the soft sand at her feet and the water beyond painted in the vibrant orange of dusk, Argon readied herself.

"A-alright… I can do this."

A single target stood about three dozen feet away in the sand. Short, stacked with hay, and with a white and green visage vaguely modeled after a cartoon dinosaur, the practice target was no substitute for an actual threat. The true danger lay just a few feet to the side, in the form of a Ninetales. Even with no small number of gray hairs in his mane, he wielded a telekinetic aura holding his front two limbs a few inches off the ground, not to mention an inner fire Argon knew hot enough to melt stone.

"Remember what we've been going over!" Sean yelled across the way, paw tapping against a loose pile of stones at his side. "Hone the mind as a muscle, and your telekinetic abilities will endure for both the jog and sprints of combat. Keep a synergy between body and mind, and no pokemon will rival your maneuverability. And… best of luck, Argon. Nothing is out of your reach if you put yourself to it. On your mark."

Argon returned a soft smile, lowering onto all fours. Even now, he always made it look easy. All she had to do was take her father's training to heart, close the gap to give the practice target a solid punch, and hopefully not end up singed into ratatouille in the process.

Her eyes closed, a brief moment of serenity falling over Argon before she bolted. Sean certainly wasn't making things easy. Even with the Raichu's legs working on overdrive, she had barely gotten five feet out before spotting three stones soaring toward her from a telekinetic throw. The middle rock was easy enough to avoid, with a quick lunge to the right. Sean was tenacious, however, with the second flying so fast that even a last minute jump couldn't stop Argon from getting clipped on the side. She stumbled through the air, looking up just in time to see the third. Where she was falling, a hit was unavoidable. Unless…

It was the seventh day they'd been training after every mission, and by now it was almost a reflex. Psychic instincts spun into motion, forming an aura of energy that coalesced around Argon's tail. Thoughts sharpening to give it direction, she commanded her tail to raise under her, keeping her moving through the air as the stone whiffed just inches under. In the millisecond she had to think, Argon cringed; that would have hurt.

She wasn't out of the woods yet, however. She hit the ground, sand crunching against her paws with only a dozen feet between her and the target. Argon smiled for only a moment, before seeing the buildup of flames lining her father's open maw.

Oh no.

A wall of fire erupted from Sean's mouth. She could feel the heat against her fur, not to mention her own beating heart at the five pronged blast of destruction hurtling toward her. On instinct, Argon jumped, but she didn't have a hope of clearing its radius with just that. She wasn't an acrobat, but from a guildmaster's training, she wouldn't need to be.

Raging wall of embers getting nearer by the second, Argon again roared the psychic energy around her tail to life. In spite of, or perhaps because of her fear, she worked fast, moving the tail until it floated above her. The Raichu went up after her first jump, but never went down. After all, she had the perfect platform to keep her in the air. Again, Argon lunged, clearing the blast like a pole vaulter. Energy and adrenaline coursed through her, tingling, sparking, and crackling until she fell back to earth with a paw armored in electricity.

She may have gotten a few burnt hairs on her back in the process, but the target ended up much worse. Her momentum carried, fist knocking it back with a resounding crack into the sand. A mark remained on its snout, burnt from a torrent of static. In a weird way, even Argon couldn't believe it. Breathing heavy, she looked back to Sean with a tepid smile; if the Ninetales' wide eyes were any indication, his reaction was much the same.

"I… think that's pretty well for today," Sean said. "Exemplary work, Argon. I have no doubt you'll remain able to defend yourself for what's ahead."

It wasn't until the sparks in Argon's cheeks died that she heard the tinge of wariness in Sean's voice. He let out a few, coughing embers, before setting himself to the sand. His gaze remained steadfast, towards a familiar landmass across the sea. Keeping her smile up as best she could, Argon sat herself down at his side.

"T-thanks, Dad. Couldn't have done it without you. Feels weird, honestly. Being able to do more as a psychic type than staying afloat or fetching something I'm too lazy to grab. Has been a big help going on missions with Chimera. Between that, and him improving on that tool of his, we've been getting through our daily missions in probably half the time we used to. N-not to mention I can get a lot less dirty sneaking with Eoin through that pipe to the… the… "

"That pallid farm," Sean finished. "Orchestrated by my illustrious counterpart from the WFG."

Argon had heard her father well enough to know what didn't sit well in his stomach. The two sat in silence for a bit, listening to the rhythmic call of the waves. Pelippers, Toucannon, and Swanna flew up against a clear sky. If Argon squinted, she could even see a vaguely familiar Mantine above. Every so often as the Mantine flew above the city and beach, sections of folded pamphlets dropped from the saddle, falling to the ground like leaves.

"Argon," Sean said, snapping the Raichu back to attention. "I've long since learned that I cannot nor should not try to put a stop to what you aspire, but this… revolution, you and Eoin are planning, are you sure that the risk is worth the reward? I respect Eoin and the pallids that follow him, and I'll help anyway I can, but the last thing I want is for you to be harmed unnecessarily."

Argon would be lying to say she hadn't had similar thoughts. Just yesterday was probably the tenth time she'd tried getting the support of pokemon wandering the streets of Pith Town. The tilted heads. The incredulous stares. The mix of disbelief, or simple apathy as they returned to their business. She could only hope that Eoin was having more luck on his end.

"I-I mean, we have to try," Argon replied, fiddling with her paws as she looked to the sand. "I've spent far too long already playing it safe while others suffered. We can get the pallids here, but we need a way to let all of Faire know what they've had to endure. We just need a way to—"

"Bombs away!" Catalina called out, as high as a kite above the two. "'Lotta 'pologies for the shameless advertising, Aragon. The things corporate has me do…"

The call was followed by a pamphlet hitting Argon square in the face. About a dozen more fell to the rest of the beach, after which Catalina had soared off for her next target. Stifling a growl, Sean gave the Mantine a halfhearted shake of his paw. As he turned back to Argon, a psychic aura lifted the paper off her nose.

"You alright, Argon?"

"Y-yeah," she replied, giving a slight chuckle. "Swift attack from that Accelgor in Exeggutor's Jungle gave me far worse. I just—wait."

The pamphlet itself was a fairly standard thing, a colorful yet simple advertisement with probably the most artificial smile a Mantine could give on the cover. Looking up, however, and seeing another airdrop from Catalina, it all clicked into place. Her eyes opened wide, ears perking up with enough static over her cheeks to power a lightbulb over her head.

"Dad!" Argon said, head whipping over to meet Sean's eyes. "You remember that camera you gave me for my hatchday, r-right?"

"Of course," Sean replied, blinking a bit at his daughter's smile. "Do you need new film for it? I likely have enough connections back with the guild to offer you anything you need."

It was foolhardy. Hopelessly optimistic. But… it just might work. She looked up to the sky, seeing Catalina silhouetted against the distant landmass of East Faire.

"T-that's good to hear, Dad," Argon replied, "because if this all works out, we're gonna need a lot of it."

"A lot of what, if I may ask?"

The sudden voice sounded very familiar, but that didn't keep Argon's fur from jumping up like a scared cat. She whipped around in tandem with Sean, stopping only at the sight of a Charmander that has just realized his faux pas.

"Hello," Eoin said, posture shifting as he tried to regain an inviting smile. "Apologies for the interruption. I didn't mean to—"

"W-we were just finishing up the training," Argon replied, tone soothing a fair bit. "It's great to see you, Eoin. What brings you here now? A-and, what's that you're carrying?"

Eoin blinked (or at very least paused, enough that Argon could tell through the goggles), as if needing to remember there was anything in his claws, and exploding in realization at their importance. On his left arm, a simple wicker picnic basket, with a stack of tamoto berries and a thermos hanging off the end. In his right, a single flower. It was a vibrant thing, with a blooming button of small, orange pedals in the center that branched off into large ones of grey and white. He looked at Argon, then at Sean, breath sucked in as he pondered whether to hold the flower out, or hide it behind his back.

"Oh, this?" Eoin replied, putting on the simple smile of a feral that had absolutely no idea how to effectively lie. "Just some— Just that we… I thought that, as co-leaders in the events ahead, that we have some one on one time to exchange notes on our progress. My efforts scouting and sabotaging the defense construction at Port Obstand, yours to shift public opinion. Of course, we haven't had much personal time for such discussion in the past few weeks, and I thought at an hour like this, the cliffside just a short while from here would offer ample security. Is that… agreeable?"

Neither Argon nor Sean needed to look at each other to know the Charmander's intentions were a bold faced lie, or at least half of one. Argon's chest fluttered, half at the thought, and half knowing next to her was a Ninetales that could pick Eoin up with his mind and fling him across the sea.

"D-dad, do you mind if we… "

"Not at all, dear," Sean replied, soaking in Eoin's fearful glances just a bit too much. "Though remember the value of product restraint in times like these. The flower Eoin's holding may have already been pollinated, but when your Mother and I were your age—"

"Dad!" Argon yelped, ears raising in a pouty demeanor. "I-I mean… thank you."

She let out a deep sigh, walking to Eoin as a smile slowly returned. The flower passed from claw to paw, fading daylight falling under the horizon. On a chilly day like this, the warmth they felt as they touched was something to savor.

"Well," Argon said, "shall we get going? We don't have all—wait."

The thought hit her like a take down. How long had they been putting it off? A new, foreign box with a bulb that blared on the entire side of a wall. A roll of tape with that new moving picture thing on it, and a Bagon to share it with. Was that really tonight?

"Something wrong?" Eoin asked.

"N-no," Argon replied, "it's just… just nothing."

The days would pass, and the large sphere in the sky would make its periodic run over the horizon. As she sucked in a breath, however, Argon knew all too well that movie night would have to wait until next week.

---​

They were tired. Again, the days passed, and again, the fall air outside seemed just a little less comforting than usual. Argon was the first to enter their apartment at the usual hour, though they never could predict who'd be the one to arrive later. Three raps against the door greeted her while nestled in her bed. A psychic flick, a click of the lock, and Chimera's visage greeted her.

"Hey," Chimera whispered, arms outstretched as he let out a nod.

"Hey," Argon replied, her own maw opening from the infectious gesture.

The Bagon said not a word as he set his exploration pack to the floor, papers nearly falling from their sleeve. Argon tucked herself into the sheets. She looked to her side, reaching halfway to her bedside table for her nighttime tea, only to find it already drunk. Closing her eyes, all she could do was rack her mind through the fog for something to say.

"H-how have things been going at the port?" she asked. "Projects been going well?"

"Yeah," Chimera replied, answer innate. "Binair asked me to help with some logistics around the Guild Hall. Will be nice getting back here for a bit. You know how it goes. Things going alright with Eoin?"

"Yeah, w-we've been keeping pretty busy ourselves. That Mimikyu pallid in the dungeon today didn't give you too hard of a hit, did it?"

Chimera blinked, needing a second to even remember the morning event she was referring to. Pausing, the Bagon tried every bit to summon the events of their daily mission, only to find they had slid though his mind. Shrugging, Chimera shook his head, before climbing the bunk side ladder to his own bed. He couldn't put his claw on it, but things seemed… different. As Bagon and Raichu rubbed their bagged eyes, however, both knew that neither the sun, nor the ticking gears of time would wait for either of them.

"S-should I turn off the light?" Argon asked.

"Sure," Chimera replied, before catching himself. "Wait, what about the—you know?"

His voice was half hearted, and he knew it. Argon would be remiss to call her own any more enthusiastic. Seemingly in tandem from the top and bottom bunk, the two looked to the side, spotting a large, metallic projector tucked away in the corner where the camera used to be. The same film lied on top of it, with a thin border of dust on its edges. Posture slumping, Chimera leaned back into the bed, letting out a sigh that turned into a nod.

"Next week?"

The constant, whispering voice in her consciousness suggested otherwise, but Argon already knew the answer.

"N-next week."
 
Chapter 31: The Stage is Set
How long had it been? Seven weeks? Two months? It all started to blend together after a while, but Chimera could always count on the end of a day's work to give him some clarity. He sat with his chair propped back, staring into the sky as a vibrant red glow reflected against the clouds. Even the palm trees lining the quaint, outdoor cafe had grown dormant this time of the year. With periodic chilling winds slicing against his scales, Chimera had to rely on the cape nestled around his form, and the undranken, steaming cup of Tapu Cocoa in his hands for some comfort.

Well, they weren't all that warmed the Bagon's heart. Maybe two dozen feet away, past the nearly dead isles of circular tables, overhanging straw umbrellas, and looming Klinklang logo (name hastily changed by the looks of things), was the fruits of his, and many a pokemon's labor: An imposing public stage, with paint still fresh, built against the marble walls of the Guild Hall.

Just a week ago he'd supervised a new community center across the way of the town square, and if Binair wasn't pulling his leg, the hours he spent leading pokemon today would make many more happier to come. A Primarina rockstar tomorrow. That Sobble and Scorbunny musical duo the week after (not quite his cup of tea, but he could see the appeal). His temples still ached with more than a day's worth of stress, and it wouldn't even be long before he was expected back at the apartment to restart the cycle anew, but Chimera found himself holding a tepid smile. The human of before may have spent just as much time filing reports, but now? Now he had something to show for it.

"Long day?"

A soft, yet cheerful voice reminded Chimera that the town square wasn't entirely a ghost town. She'd taken her seat on the other side of the circular table, a Nickit that had ordered her drink while the cafe was still full. Over the last hour as he waited, she'd take the occasional sip, or steal glances at the distant Guild Hall. Letting out a slight huff, Chimera nodded.

"One of many," he replied, chuckling. "But… not without purpose. Plenty of plays on that stage that pokemon will be able to see. Might ask my friend to come if we actually manage to find the time."

The Nickit replied with a terse nod, though her grin quickly took to something more bold.

"Very generous of you. I'm sure the beachgoers will be happy. Won't have to worry about their view being ruined by Bagon falling from above."

Chimera rolled his eyes, looking back at the Nickit with a soft smile. If she wanted to go, he had nothing better to do.

"Nor any Nickit shoveling sand into beachgoer's mouths while she makes a minefield of holes. Instincts are a funny thing." Chimera replied.

Her maw opened, seemingly in retaliation, before shutting with a conceding snicker. As Chimera looked back over the past few months, he found himself pondering the warmth in that laugh for perhaps a second too long.

"Touché. What's keeping a parvenu like you here anyway?" the Nickit asked. "Can't imagine we have much time until the new dawn."

Chimera let out a half sigh, testing the once steaming drink with his tongue to find it had cooled a fair bit.

"I'm the first one in, last one out for these types of projects. Gotta wait till my boss arrives to check our work. You've probably seen him."

The faint wrinkle in the Nickit's nose corroborated. The air settled into silence as the cafe gramophone across the way ground to a halt. A new track shifted automatically into turntable, spinning up a slower, more quaint tune.

"Sure have," the Nickit replied. "Went into town myself on a little search for something, and… an old acquaintance of mine. Had my own fair share of long nights. Still, feels nice getting to talk to someone other than myself during them."

"Right back at ya," Chimera responded, scaly brow furrowing the slightest bit. "Though, who are you searching for, then? Don't tell me you've been waiting out in the cold to talk to the one Bagon on Faire that needs a lighter to start a fire. There's probably another Bagon out there with a lighter cape who'd make much better company than his evil counterpart."

The Nickit's eyes seemed to widen, the rest of her reaction hidden as she stared down to the table. The brief silence that followed saw Chimera's chest grow antsy, and his smirk fade. It… wasn't that weird of a comment, was it?

"Well, I'd be chasing my own tail to find him," she replied, giggling a bit to herself. "The 'mon I was looking for, I'm… more trying to see what sort of role they really want to play. Been searching for a bit, but in my line of work, you learn to be quick on your feet."

She raised up on her seat, gesturing with a paw over Chimera's shoulder. Looking back at the stage, Chimera returned a slow nod. He turned back at the Nickit, gaze a bit more analytical than usual.

"That makes sense," Chimera replied, "if you don't mind me saying, you seem a bit like you've played a lot of roles yourself."

The Nickit tilted her head, blinking in incredulity. In most cases, Chimera would have backpedaled into an apology, but as he snuck a glance at the fox, the more he garnered a nearly infinitesimal smile on her maw.

"In a way," she said, tone accentuated innocence. "Was forced to study the bard a fair bit way back then. Dad always thought it kept me happy and content, but like they say, 'false face must hide what the false heart—'oh no."

The voice wasn't hers, at least at the end. Chimera saw the Nickit's face jump up in shock, recovering too late as she stared past him. By the time she tried to pull his attention back, he'd already seen it.

The stage was the same as he left it, excepting a single pokemon now at the center. The Fennekin waved at Chimera, a cheeky grin on her maw that was an unmistakable echo of her host. Pretty soon, Chimera joined in, turning back to a now pouty Nickit.

"I had my doubts, but… that confirms it," Chimera said. "How you been holding up, Cerise? Weeks been treating you well?"

A flash of light, and Chimera was greeted by a familiar Zorua across the table. Her muzzle snarled, paw lifting to take another sip of her drink as they locked eyes. After three long glugs, the cup lowered, its holder now sporting a smile; the game wasn't over yet.

"As well as they can," Cerise replied, tapping a bag at her side nearly overflowing with hastily drawn notes. "Seems like you've been doing well for yourself. I had you fooled, though, didn't I? You only found out because I wanted you to."

"Really?" Chimera asked, gesturing back over his shoulder to the stage. He couldn't see it yet, but the Fennekin once a few dozen feet away was now snickering a foot or so behind him.

Zorua and Bagon looked at each other across the table, one half smiling meeting another preparing for whatever verbal jab would continue the exchange. As Chimera looked into Cerise's eyes, however, memories of compasses, time gears, and hammy salemences coming back to the forefront, curiosity overtook pride.

"Alright… fine, you win" he replied, "you had me—"

"You win," Cerise said, "I got sloppy."

Nearly in unison, the two pokemon blinked, in unanimous surprise at the other's words. An entire argument seemed to happen in the silence, victory being passed back and forth like an unwanted coat. True, it was a juvenile game, but… something about it seemed to make the air a little warmer, soothing the reality of the pokemon each was sitting across.

"Well, you had me fooled for at least a couple hours," Chimera continued, clearing his throat "but… that lends itself to something else."

Leaning forward to take a sip from his drink, the Bagon's tone lost its levity.

"What's the real reason that you're here?" Chimera asked. "Been… what, two months since we saw each other? What's changed?"

Cerise perked up from her seat, only to pause, as if having a well practised presentation, but no time in front of an audience. As she pawed abscently at her exploration bag, trying to find the words, Chimera found himself balancing on the back two legs of his seat.

"O-oh, she's here because—"

"Gaahh!"

Whatever Chimera was expecting, the sudden voice of a fennekin not a foot from his ear wasn't it. Cerise's fur shot up in shock and horror while Chimera fell back. He saw himself pass straight through Sophia's illusionary body on the way down, back of the chair hitting the ground with a dull thud.

"Chimera!" Cerise yelped, before her own voice lowered to a snarl. "...Sophia."

"I-I didn't—" Sophia replied, fur quivering in front of Chimera, "I wasn't… I'll go."

Before Chimera knew it, the Fennekin before him had disappeared. Still on his back, it wasn't long before the offered paw of a Zorua took its place. Helping Chimera up, Cerise let out a sigh.

"She means well, just gets a bit antsy around other pokemon. We've had a fair bit of time to ourselves these past months," Cerise said, taking a deep breath for the rest. "And as for why I'm here, I wasn't lying as a Nickit, if you can believe it. What goes hand in hand with that though, is… we've been doing our homework, and I know what I said before about only observing the time gears, but let's just say I've been inclined on another visit to the Guild Hall."

Chimera blinked not once, not twice, but three times in silence. Though he kept up a smile, the air between Bagon and Zorua seemed to get a tad heavier.

"... Cerise—"

"Trust me, I-I don't like it anymore than you do," Cerise said, patting the worn notebook in her pouch, "but this is the only way forward. I—we've combed through my mother's old notes, undertook some less than official research at all the artifact museums across Faire, and the best conclusion I can come up with is that our little test coming down the mountain was a fluke. The compass wasn't meant for that time gear, but if I can get my paws on what's locked in the Guild Hall, then… I might get the breakthrough that we need. That's all I'm asking."

Had he been in any other position, for any other team, Chimera was confident he would have taken Cerise's paw and started scoping out entrances into the Guild Hall right then and there. The ticking gears of time had chosen their route, however, and taking a sip warmed his tongue a bit less. He looked to Cerise, an irritation on his face that, unwilling to drench the Zorua before him, turned back to the only other target.

"I know why you're doing this, Cerise," Chimera said, "and I respect that. I really do wanna help you, a-and the last time we spoke, I was a lot harsher than I should have been. I apologize for that, it's just… I do have a role to play here. A lot of pokemon rely on me now, and I'm not sure I can… "

His head drooped. The shiny, platinum badge on his bag reflected against the crimson sky. In it, he could see Cerise's face, not a hint of blame in her eyes, though equally determined.

"And I respect that," Cerise replied. "Even if I do get this time heist to work, I think you'll have done more good on a whole than a petty thief like me. She let out a soft snicker, turning to a sigh as she looked to the clouds. "Not to mention you've indulged my antics more than any other 'mon in the guild would. But… I guess we both got a job to do tonight."

Chimera nodded, though something sat poor in his mind at the thought. He glanced around, to the town square that'd take hours before another soul entered. To the barren cafe, with easy listening melodies and smooth oak wood tables. Lastly, he looked to Cerise, seeing how her scarlet black fur swayed gently in the wind. Chest subconsciously starting to flutter, an idea took form. Sure, perhaps it was a longshot, and not the most professional option, but he could think of worse ways for the night to go.

"Well, I wouldn't say that," Chimera said, putting on an endearing smile that showed just a bit too much teeth. "Time gear heists are wonderful and all, but...how 'bout instead we go for a little night out as friends? You and me. We can go and get something to eat; my treat of course."

Cerise was halfway through taking a sip when every inch of her froze. She sucked in a breath, nearly taking a glug of cocoa with it as her eyes, ever so faintly widened toward the Bagon.

"Maybe find some out of the way studio for a bit of dancing," Chimera continued, "that is if you don't mind going with a Bagon who nearly got psychocked into oblivion by a lake guardian the last time he danced. Could even have a little movie night. I have it on good authority that the actor for the partner in 'Heroes of Time' is absolutely superb."

Chimera's arms lowered as Cerise' gaze lifted, desperately hoping he could hide his shaking hands under the table.

"I…" Cerise said.

The suave smirk she had carried over from the Nickit faded as Bagon and Zorua stared at each other. The latter clutched the notebook at her side, while the former found his jittering hand fiddling with his guild badge. Just over Chimera's shoulder, Cerise could see the theatre in the distance, with two towering, emblazoned theatre masks that almost seemed to stare down at the two. Following their example, Cerise returned Chimera's toothy grin, leaning forward on her seat.

"A tempting offer," Cerise said, "but I have to ask first, what happens if I say no?"

After taking his own deep breath, Chimera looked left and right over his shoulder, confirming yet again that the square was empty. This should have been the more dreary part of the offer, but for some reason, the butterflies in his stomach hadn't stopped. In a slow, calculated motion, he took hold of his crossbow, setting it on the table with a thunk. Even as Cerise's throat darkened with a preemptive shadowy aura, however, she couldn't help but notice that the Bagon's demeanor had dimmed only a bit. He smiled back, eyes wide as if he'd not placed a weapon, but a deck of cards or a new round of drinks.

"If that's the case, Cerise," Chimera said, scaled brow furrowing as he picked his words, "then I'm sorry to say that we'll have to part ways. If we're both still by the Guild Hall after one minute or so, we're going to have a… different kind of dance on our hands. One thing is for sure, though: I'm not going anywhere."

Were it any other Bagon, or any other Zorua listening, his tone would have seemed more like a threat than an offer. Like a poker player moving chips to the table, Chimera scanned his exploration bag. His hand glazed over the sharpened, glimmering bolts neatly lining one of the pouches, instead pulling out one with a wide, blunted end. True, it'd hurt, Cerise noted, but not more than a decent punch, or a halfhearted dark pulse from her own maw. As he set the bolt on his weapon, Chimera gave Cerise a quick nod. The Bagon was unable to hide his trepidation, and as an unspoken conversation sounded across the table, Cerise dipped her head likewise.

"Well," Chimera said, "what'll it be?"

The paths before her seemed equally valid, but a deep, mischievous grin on Cerise's form revealed she already knew her choice. Adrenaline coursed up her spine, forming the vibrant, cocksure posture of a role that was all her own. As the seconds ticked down, the few, precious seconds Chimera had given to make her choice, Cerise learned forward to take another drink. She looked him right in the eye, giving Chimera a wink while she sipped. After licking her lips, she cleared her throat.

"I'm sorry too, Chimera," Cerise said, "because I'm not going anywhere either."

Not a word more needed to be said. Bagon and Zorua sat in silence, scanning each other head to toe across the table. With a shrug, Chimera held his free hand out to Cerise. Eyes narrowing at the Bagon, it didn't take long for Cerise to realize that he was just as, if not worse at feigning innocence than herself. She closed her maw, a way to hide the shaded fire building in her throat, before outstretching her own paw. For a long second, the two shared an impromptu handshake.

Quick as a Ninjask, Chimera tugged. His head shot forward, rocky surface careening toward Cerise. The last thing he saw, as his gaze dipped to the table was a concentrated pulse of energy from the Zorua's maw.

Headbutt hit Dark Pulse point blank. A resounding crackle echoed through the Bagon and Zorua's ears, launching them both back from the concussive force. Like searing hot cocoa against a tooth, Chimera felt his forehead tingle from the blast. He hit the cobblestone floor back first, skidding a good dozen feet before he stopped. Thankful that his crossbow was still in hand, Chimera dusted himself off. Brown eyes met blue, gazes meeting over the coffee table between.

"Not bad," Chimera said, chuckling as he felt the scorch mark over his forehead. "I take it you won't accept a stun seed for dinner?"

Cerise rolled her eyes, dusting her own fur off from the exchange.

"Not unless your pride would need it," she shot back. "After all, that's the only way you'd get one up on me tonight. That, or putting me to sleep watching all the paperwork you do. Still… pretty impressive yourself, for a salarymon."

Any retort Chimera had was cut short by a crackling, jet black sphere soaring toward him with the speed and size of a baseball. On his back, with no way to dodge, Chimera's mind went into reflex. A nervous gasp left his maw, more of a squeak than anything. The shadow ball couldn't have been more than five feet away when his crossbow raised. The Bagon was quick on the draw, blunted bolt whiffing against the side of the sphere for an early detonation. By the time the smoke had cleared, and he'd gotten to his feet, the Zorua once in his sights was nowhere to be found.

"Just where the hell are… there."

Cerise snickered, paws working on overdrive bolting to, of all things, the stage. Panting all the while, she gave a triumphant glance behind her. Not twenty feet out, it was obvious to both Zorua and Bagon that the latter couldn't keep pace. What only Chimera knew, however, was that he didn't have to.

"Looking for someone?" Cerise asked, giving Chimera a cheeky paw wave as she leaped onto the stage. "Seems all that time getting chummy with Binair has made you a bit sloppy."

High ground obtained, the battle seemed almost over for Cerise. She readied herself for a potshot from the Bagon. Only… one that never came. Her ears perked up, hearing a faint slicing sound directly above. By the time she'd realized, it was too late.

Looking up, Cerise saw exactly what was keeping the weighty stage curtain behind her raised: A sizable sandbag counterweight, now with a thin, long slice cut from the bottom. She barely got in a word before a mountain of sand poured down. Less painful than most attacks, but shaking the heavy sediment off gave Chimera all the time he needed to close the gap.

At least, at first. The Zorua's agility had made jumping onto the stage, about twice either of their heights, a difficult yet manageable task. By the time she'd regained her senses, however, Chimera's stubby arms were still trying and failing to grapple for purchase. Every few seconds, she heard a grunt, followed by a brief glimpse of the top of the Bagon's forehead.

"Are," Cerise said, head tilting in realization, "are you—"

"I'm fine!" Chimera called back, jumps growing more frustrated. "Just… give me a few seconds."

His gaze craned to the top of the stage, Chimera silently cursed the two or three odd feet his transformation had blessed him. Priming for another leap, he was greeted by Cerise's silent, somewhat sandier eyes looking down. He froze, awaiting umbric fire.

"Do you… need some help?" Cerise asked, holding her paw out. "I may only be waiting up here so I can launch a shadow ball in your face, but you can trust me."

From the damage to his pride, Chimera was half tempted to take the shadow ball. He looked up to a Zorua no stranger to deceit. What she did lack, however, was the mocking snicker Chimera expected at his predicament.

"That does put a bit of a damper on our relationship," Chimera replied, shooting her a grin, "but… no sport in launching a bolt at your muzzle from down here."

After a running jump, the Bagon's hand met Zorua's. With a bit of effort, Chimera had scrambled onto the stage, leaving him and Cerise lying down with eyes to the sky as they caught their breath.

"And for the record," Chimera said, letting out a few quick gasps, "you do learn a few things working with Binair. Balancing scope, schedule, and budget in project management, keeping a very headstrong Sylveon from biting into the Applin it thought was lunch, and—"

A pause. Chimera bit his lip, words stuck on his tongue. Was it worth saying?

"And… the regrets a certain 'two face' has being estranged with his talented, heist-happy daughter."

Not a peep, nor even a breath left the Zorua's maw. Before Chimera even knew it, Cerise had rolled onto her side to glare at him. From her wide eyes, his words had paralyzed far more than any stun seed.

"You know?" Cerise said, incredulity lasting another second before a sigh took its place. "I-I… of course he'd tell you eventually. He's got a lot of tools to butter pokemon up, help them ignore his own faults."

After a moment more of silence, with Bagon and Zorua casting each other inquisitive looks, Cerise shook her head. She grinned back at Chimera, shaded auro forming around her paw.

"Now that we're both onstage, though, I think it's time to see how this scene ends. I'm ready to keep going. You?"

Chimera nodded back, though with a hint of perturbation under his smile. "Always was a fan of two 'mon plays," he replied. "Let's-uh… lets keep the collateral damage down. Will have enough forms to file already after this."

With crossbow in hand, he swung. It was a downward attack with the weapon held in his arms like a pickaxe. A hint of fear flashed in Cerise's face as she rolled, crossbow prods missing her chest by a single length of fur. By the time Chimera had jumped to his feet, and Cerise likewise, he had the Zorua right in his sights.

One of her. Chimera found his grin faltering, with not one, but two Zorua snickering back at him. They were soon joined by a third. Then a forth. Then a fifth. With only one bolt loaded, Chimera's aim started to shake, faced with five, equally lifelike opponents staring back at him. Desperate to buy time, Chimera stepped back, words primed to strike where arms couldn't.

"W-well, you're looking a bit beside yourself, Cerise," Chimera said, breaths quick as his aim clamored from one Zorua to the next. "I need to know, what's your endgame for this time heist of yours anyway? Binair can't have been father of the year by any imagination, but… I think he does regret not being there for you, and I think he genuinely wants to make amends. You're going to have to make a choice eventually."

Simultaneously, across five different Zorua, Cerise's muzzle crinkled. Each of their shadowed claws sat dormant, while their owners' eyes seemed to glaze over in an inner debate. Her posture shifted between trembling and firm, as if she was arguing with a nonexistent fennekin. Eventually, she settled on the latter, all planting their feet while staring back at Chimera.

"I-I could say the same to you," Cerise replied, voices echoing off of each other. "You can't really believe my Dad's beacon of benevolence is real, can you? I… might not have much love for Pallids myself, but you must have seen the work farms? I know from experience, the moment a pokemon gets in the way of his ego, the 'great mission' he has, he'll not give them a second of his time, or worse. Is he really the 'mon you want to become?"

It was Chimera's turn for his thoughts to waver. Perhaps she was exaggerating? Looking around where he was, there seemed enough evidence for that. The ornate, monolithic Guild Hall in the distance. The very wooden planks below their feet that was the product of their cooperation. Many a pokemon would find joy before the two faces of the stage. And yet, finding his aim wavering, Chimera couldn't help but look down, to the project accounting report hastily shoved into his exploration pack. All the progress he'd made, yet how often did the human of yesteryear find himself filing out the same?

"I—" Chimera said, giving a quick shake of his head, "I'm forging my own destiny, just like you are. The path to get there is mine to choose, just like yours is."

As Chimera blinked, and Cerise snapped out of her own trance, the two realized they'd just spent nearly a minute of battle lost in their own thoughts.

"That's fair, though uh… mind if we go back to hitting each other?" Cerise asked, letting out a slight giggle. "A lot simpler that way. Less stressful, too."

"You know that?" Chimera replied. "Couldn't agree more."

Adrenaline coursed through Chimera, facing five separate Zorua charging him. The first dashed to the left, serpentining across the stage, only to face a head-on bolt between the eyes. Its body faded into oblivion, giving Chimera only a second to prepare before another charged him from the center. Quick on his feet, he backpedaled. The Zorua sped across him, facing a sideways headbutt from the Bagon that left it equally dispersed.

It was good, but not good enough. Chimera only had time to turn before a third Zorua jumped from behind, claws bared. He winced, expecting a piercing pain in his scales when paw met back. Instead, the Zorua's claw sliced against him with all the power of an imaginary knife against butter. His illusionary foe left equally nonexistent wounds, but a very real opening.

"Poor choice, Chimera!"

His head was still turned when the genuine Cerise slammed into him from the front. Like getting tackled by a swift, quadrupedal, and especially furry linebacker, Chimera fell to the floor. The Bagon's head was in a daze, crossbow skidding from his hand across the stage. By the time his back had hit the floor, a number of realizations hit him.

The first: he had a large mass of Zorua lying on his chest. The second: trying to move his arms caused the paw pressing down on each to pin them to the floor, with his legs a similar story. The third? His instinctual reaction to lunge with his rocky forehead was equally fruitless. Something was holding it against the floor, denying him the distance he needed for a good swing. And as his eyes opened, he saw that something was Cerise's forehead.

Time seemed to slow. Two thoughts wrestled for control in his consciousness: He'd lost, and he could feel the Zorua's rapid heartbeat against his chest. Chimera looked at Cerise (little able to look at anything else where he was}. Cerise looked to Chimera. Her face beamed in a triumphic flare, with the umbric fire from her maw barely an inch away from Chimera's, though… something else laid behind. Chimera could scarcely describe it himself.

"I-I… I think we can call the winner here, wouldn't you say?" Cerise said, unable to pull her forehead back from Chimeras, lest risking a headbutt. "Promise you won't have anything to worry about. Will be in and out of the Guild Hall to test the time gear before Dad even knows what's happened. I'm sure he won't mind. Might even still have time for that night out." A pause. "I-If you don't mind, that is."

His thoughts were awash. Unable to move, and equally unsure whether failure would be as bad as it seemed, Chimera froze. His breaths were quick, a tiny bit of him thankful he'd taken a mint earlier, considering where he now lied. At the last second, he opened his maw, barely hearing the faint clop of hooves against cobblestone.

"I-uh… I guess that could work," Chimera replied, "as long as—"

"Old chum."

Nearly in unison, Bagon and Zorua's heads craned to the side. The Girafarig they saw, countenance suspended in a mix of shock and incredulity, was more than enough to chill their spines. Chimera looked back and forth between Binair and Cerise, desperately trying to find words that were long gone. The Zorua above, meanwhile, kept a deadset glare towards Binair. Her muzzle twitched in agitation while her fangs barred.

"Chimera, Cerise dear," Binair continued. "I would—amicably—ask the both of you to separate."

Bagon and Zorua could nearly feel the air get heavier around them. Binair's head, both of them, craned to the side staring at the scene. The pokemon on bottom was much too pinned to follow his suggestion, while the one on top (half covered in sand) much too distracted.

"S-sir," Chimera stammered, "I promise, we weren't… I wasn't… we—"

"No need, old chum," Binair replied, tone faster than usual. "We can sort out… this on a later date. It does complicate things, but for now I'll trust you're being truthful. Cerise, dear… "

The name was almost like a plea from Binair's mouth. Where he lay, Chimera could feel something build in Cerise's chest, a tension in her being that seemed ready to bolt into a nearby alley any second. Tentatively, Chimera raised a hand, not having the willpower to divert the Zorua's attention and ask her to move from his chest. She looked back at Binair, glaring at an equal height on the stage to the Girafarig.

"I-I have nothing to say to you," Cerise replied, head dipping to the floor. "Not now. Not ever. For the record, Dad, I came here on a heist to get one step closer to bringing Mom back, a-and to see whether Chimera would try and stop me, but she'll have to wait today."

With a huff, Cerise gently stepped off of Chimera, before turning her back to Binair. Chimera was just getting to his feet as a flash of light enveloped the Zorua, in her place appearing the Nickit he'd shared drinks with. Binair's gaze drooped when the Nickit turned away, about to make her way to the floor. It looked to Chimera as if the Girafarig was filled with stage fright, with his jeering audience the faces of past and present. He let out a deep, shuddering sigh, to a fox many feet away.

"I don't doubt your words are warranted, Cerise," Binair said, voice distant as she walked away. "But for however much my own are worth, just know that I miss her too."

The fox stopped. Her whole body seemed to quiver, while a sharp, whistling breeze flowed through the streets. Chimera was just about to take a step towards her when another flash of light hit his eyes. He raised his hand, seeing when it lowered a growling, steadfast Zorua staring back at Binair.

"Really?" Cerise asked, tone a biting whisper. "Seems like your illusions were always better than mine, Dad. Answer me this then: where were you?"

Cerise's paw lifted to step towards Binair, and for a half second, Chimera saw one of Binair's hooves step back. The Girafarig lay still, lost in the question while Cerise approached.

"Where were you," Cerise demanded, "every day Mom used to watch over me? Where were you every day I had to spend studying guild management and human literature? 'To persevere in obstinate condolement is a course of impious stubbornness. Tis unmanly grief,' the book said."

She took another step forward, letting out a dry chuckle. Binair kept his footing, though Chimera could see the Girafarig's mouth hanging open like a loudred trying to find an answer.

"Figures, there'd be more than one two faced king to say that," Cerise continued. "What about every one of Mom's hatch days, where I'd read her adventuring journals now that she couldn't read them to me? Would have been nice to have someone else to talk with, as the weeks turned to months turned to years. Someone other than… than—"

Another flash of light, and the fox before Binair was joined by another, a familiar Fennekin that looked at the Girafarig with a seemingly foreign eye. Her ears drooped a bit as she turned to Cerise. Eyes widening at her faux pas, Cerise mouthed an apology. Chimera kept his own solemn silence watching from above, as if Arceus himself had flipped the audience and stage. Ever so quietly, the Bagon stepped away until he was in their peripheral; with the tense air, he was starting to miss getting shot at with shadow balls.

The fire in Cerise's gaze seemed to fade, if only a bit once she was right before Binair. Looking up, she let out a deep breath.

"I just… wished you'd have been there more, instead of that damned mission of yours. Wished you could have spared a factory or two for family's sake. Would have made things a lot easier. I bet you don't even know that I—"

"—Pay Ezra's resting place a visit, on the first day of fall every year?" Binair replied, Zorua jumping up at his response. "Under the disguise of the Umbreon sexton. I must compliment you on your choice of flowers; lavender makes her seem quite at peace, which I'm sure she is right now."

Silence. Cerise's own maw hung open, not sure whether to shout or whimper. Settling for a grumble, she looked away, glazed over in thought.

"What is it you want then, Dad?" Cerise asked. "A little late for a family reunion."

Her words seemed to sting both of them in equal measure. Taking a moment to collect himself, Binair set himself down on the cobblestone, matching Cerise's height.

"To make amends," Binair replied, tone soft and terse. "In your youth, I let myself get too absorbed in my obligations. Though I thought, and still think they were to the benefit of all pokemon of Faire, I've only realized recently the damage my hubris has caused."

A brief pause. With a Zorua's gaze bearing down on him, what came next was even harder.

"I-I… I'm sorry" Binair said. "I seek only to start over between us, and as I'm sure you know, I'm not one without a plan. That, and for you to stop tearing apart the best days of your youth in Ezra's name."

His latter words hit Cerise much harder. Her whole body tensed up, paw clutching desperately the notebook in her bag. Turning away, she met only Sophia's equally imploring face. The Fennekin didn't say a word, only taking a step back, closer to Binair. Chimera could barely see Cerise's silent gasp at the mutinous action. It'd have been easy for her to dispel the fennekin illusion—he'd seen it before—but… Sophia remained, as did the Zorua standing her ground. She looked to Binair, then back at the Guild Hall, artifact inside so close, yet out of reach.

"No," Cerise replied. "I'm sorry too, Dad, but no. I've given up too much, gone too far to go back now. Unless Mom wants to come back from the grave right now, and tell me every note I've read, every mountain I've climbed and every prison stint I've served has been for nothing, I'm not giving up."

Just as softly, Chimera could swear he heard a sniffle from Binair. Both head and tail on the Girafarig were slumped over, glum as if their worst fears were realized. A faint pink hue began to glow around his horns, followed by a wallet floating up from his side. From it, hovered a familiar black and white photo, texture stained and torn over the years.

"I can't give you that," Binair replied, "I'd trade all the gold and silver of Faire for her to come back, but I can't. I never wanted it to come to this, but if it will change your resolve… I can offer the next best thing."

Cerise's breath hitched in her throat. She looked up, curiosity whispering into one ear against the anger of another.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Binair raised a hoof, before slumping it down as if pressing a button; the nuclear option seemed upon them.

"Those journals," Binair said, "the ones you and Sophia often read. They were from me and Ezra's time together during our exploration career. Alone, I don't doubt they give sound evidence to your goal, but not long before she fell, we buried a secret time capsule to dig up when we retired. It's there, that lies the journal with her complete conclusions of the artifacts."

Cerise blinked, then blinked again. Her eyes glazed over, mind trying to fit a new puzzle piece into what was once complete.

"I'd hoped my word would be enough over the years to convince you to desist," Binair continued, "but considering my many mistakes, perhaps Ezra's will succeed where mine failed."

"E-even if I did believe you," Cerise replied, "where would this journal be? Wouldn't put it past you to have a dozen teams waiting to bring me in."

A silent look exchanged between father and daughter, former frowning, though at whom no one could tell. He turned around, giving a gesture with his hoof to Chimera that shot the Bagon to attention. Now facing the port on the outskirts of Pith Town, he reached out, pointing to a familiar patch of land. Grey clouds formed in the distance, slowly building together for an oncoming storm.

"I can only offer my honor as a pokemon that you'll arrive safely," Binair replied. "The actual capsule is buried just a little ways off where she fell. For now it waits under, which I'm sure you'll recognize as old chum, what would become the primary worker lodgings at the Pallid Agricultural Center. In hindsight, I would have picked a more… accessible spot, but if you'd wish, I could accompany you in unearthing—"

"No," Cerise replied, voice shuddering a bit. "No. I-If… if you're being truthful, then I'll give it a look, but on my own terms."

Setting himself down from the stage, the Chimera of yesteryear doubted he'd have given two figs of what wasn't his business. There was paperwork to file, a Raichu waiting at their apartment to go to sleep, and the fact that just minutes ago they'd been exchanging shadow balls and crossbow bolts across the coffee table. However… something didn't sit right. He looked to Cerise, the Zorua whom his resistance had denied her the closure she deserved, not to mention the one he'd now need to book restaurant reservations for.

"What if I went along?" Chimera asked.

Two heads and a tail swerved to stare at Chimera. Clearing his throat, the Bagon gave a tepid smile.

"I-I mean, it could be a decent compromise," Chimera continued, tone hastening by the second. "Cerise, you'll get to call the shots without your dad watching over you. Binair, you'll get to know she's not going on a recovery mission alone. I-uh, promise things weren't what they looked like at the start. This is strictly business."

The slight furrow in Binair's brow, and the chomp of his tail told of a pokemon suspecting otherwise. While Cerise seemed antsy herself, however, a look, a pause, and eventually a nod was shared between Zorua and Girafarig.

"I-I mean, that—" Cerise said, "that could be alright. I know well enough you can handle yourself. I appreciate it, Chimera. I really do."

A renewed smile on her face, Cerise stepped away. She walked past Binair, set towards the wide expanse of land an ocean away. Just before Chimera could join her, she looked back, head turned in contemplation.

"I need to know, though," Cerise said, "why are you doing this for me? I know I haven't exactly been the most cooperative pokemon on your end."

Try as he might to deny it, Chimera had the answer in his head almost instantly. Joining Cerise's side, the Bagon let out a sigh.

"I've already been leaving one friend out to dry," Chimera replied. "I'm not about to do the same now."
 
Author's note: Hey all! Apologies for the long wait. Just wanted to mention I decided to change up the story summary a bit, since its had some time to develop. Think this should be a better fit. Now, without further adieu…


Chapter 32: A Natural Conclusion
"Alright-uh… my turn. Hmm. I think I got another one, from back when I had more skin than scales. See, there's this Scorupi and Whiscash, and the Scorupi wants to cross a river—"

A bitter gust of wind shut Chimera's mouth, sending a torrent of rain cascading against his side. The Zorua next to him fared little better, with black and crimson paws long coated from the muddy soil below. Only moonlight guided them along the winding road, as well as Cerise's steady gaze as they trudged forward. For a second, she glanced over, gesturing for him to go on. The Bagon returned her tepid smile, though even she couldn't hide her quivering form. Whether from the cold, or what lied ahead, Chimera never knew.

"So," Chimera continued, "the Scorupi's all like 'Hey, mind if I have a lift through that river?', but the Whiscash shakes his head."

His voice lowered two octaves, staring ahead in an imitative frown.

"'Now just why would I do that?' the Whiscash replied. "'The moment I let you on my back, you're going to sting me.'"

The Bagon's tone raised back up, almost to a squeal. Cerise opened her maw in response, as if to mouth the words, only to stop at the last moment.

"'Now jussssst why, in Thundurusssss's beard would I do that?' the Scorupi said back. ``If I ssssssting you, we'll both drown and perish."

Biting her lip, Cerise let out a small chuckle. She was half tempted to close her eyes and summon right behind Chimera visages of the dozen or so pokemon that could maybe match his accent (none of them Scorupi), but she stayed her paw; the storm seemed only getting worse, best to save what energy they had.

"What'd he do?" Cerise asked, tone a mock innocence.

"He let the Scorupi on his back," Chimera replied. "Lil guy hopped on, and they got just about halfway across the river when… wham!"

For added effect, Chimera clapped his hands together. Not a second afterwards, a bolt of lightning crackled through the sky, lighting up the road ahead. After almost falling backward, Chimera looked toward the nearly as shocked Cerise. He then glanced to his hands, before giving a half chuckle.

"I guess Thunderous is a bit peeved at your voice acting," Cerise said, quivering a bit less as she smiled.

"I wouldn't blame him," Chimera replied. "Anyway, I was just—yes, so while the Whiscash and Scorupi are dying in the lake, the Whiscash is like 'Dude, what the hell? Why'd you do that?'"

A beat of silence. Chimera shook his cape, letting the amassed rain slide off. The atmosphere was there, but at times like these, he half wished for a flashlight to point up at his head.

"'Why not?' the Scorupi answered back, taking its last, fleeting breath, 'It's—'"

"It'sssss in my nature," Cerise finished.

A blink, from Bagon to Zorua. Before Chimera could ask, Cerise stepped forward to take the lead on the trail, gaze to the floor.

"I-I… remembered it while you were halfway through," Cerise said, tone lowering to a whisper. "Was one of the human tales Dad used to read me in my early studies. He never was good at bed time stories. Would probably butcher 'The Torkoal and the Scorbunny' if he tried, but—w-wait, I think this is it."

It was a tedious process circling the outskirts of the work farm, but one that put them in sight of their goal. With the mud below, and the moonlit trees above, nothing stood in the way of the ramshackle collection of sheds in the center of the farm. Nothing but a few hundred feet of nearly flooded farmland, some barbed wire fences that would be easy enough to cross, and a few guard towers. Their searchlights cut through the rain and air, crisscrossing in search of any Pallid unfortunate or daring enough to be caught in the open past curfew. Taking a deep breath, Chimera took a knee at Cerise's side. Getting himself into the maximum security facility would be an easy feat. The thirteenfold convicted thief and daughter to his boss? Not so much.

"Guess it is," Chimera replied, scanning the watchtowers in the distance. "I… think I should be able to buy you some time. Won't seem too suspicious that the co-manager of East Faire's exports decided to drop in for a little surprise inspection of the security staff, starting at the southern wall. You sure you're up for this alone?"

Cerise nodded, taking great care that her pouch was tucked under her belly and shielded from the elements.

"No doubt. I can't thank you enough for all your help, Chimera, but… I've gotta handle this final step alone. Well, me and So—you get what I'm saying. This shouldn't take more than ten minutes, if everything goes to plan. Broken into museum storerooms that would make this place seem like Drenched Bluff."

She took a step forward, beginning to skulk towards the line of watchtowers in the distance, jutting up from row upon row of berry shrubs and wheat fields. Just before her shadowed form disappeared between the crop lines, she looked back. Chimera had set his own course towards the familiar main facility.

"A-and Chimera—"

A turn. He looked back, gesturing her to go on.

"I'm… sorry, for making you see all that between me and Dad. Can't imagine we made you very comfortable in that spot."

The Bagon sat still, eyes half open in the downpour. Though her own paws were already starting to feel numb, the toothy grin that slowly took to his maw was a welcome warmth.

"Can't say I'd wanna live it again, but I guess sometimes just call for a little father daughter reunion. From what Argon's told me with her Dad, you still got some stiff competition if you're shooting for awkward moments. Could even throw our hat in the ring, if we're still on for dinner tonight."

"If this goes our way," Cerise replied, "then the night won't be over before I get to show you the best Basculin meunière in town. At least if they're out of stun seeds."

From the look from Bagon to Zorua, they could have kept the banter up all night, but they had a job to do. After a final exchange of good luck, Cerise disappeared beneath the stalks, while Bagon in the distance came out of view. It was child's play skulking through the fields, more inconvenienced by the occasional root or jagged rock across her path than the threat of anyone spotting. About a hundred feet away from the line of guard towers, Cerise paused. A few minutes later, and one by one, the once scanning lights halted. She could see their faint outlines in the distance. A Marowak climbing down from the tower, irritated at an inspection at this hour of the night. Just a few feet in front, a Deerling, more thankful for having something to break up the monotony than anything.

"Not bad, Chimera," Cerise whispered, taking a preparatory breath. "Guess it's my turn."

Had there been anyone to notice, it was up in the air whether they would have. It was barely a mirage that slinked across to the sheds. Just a tinge of darkness. An empty moving spot where the moonlight reflected a bit less than usual. Before long, Cerise was as the central shed. It wasn't much to look at, with a construction that likely had to nibble the scraps of the Guild Hall's budget. Pressing her ear against one of the cracks in the wall, she heard only a few droning snores.

"Right under here," Cerise mumbled. "It's right under here. You'll be back soon, Mom. Just gotta get through this little detour first."

With one last glance behind her, Cerise cracked open the door. She took her time, weary of any alarming creak or groan from the foundation that would spoil everything. The bitter chill of rain against her mane relented, replaced by a pitter patter from the dilapidated roof. So far, so good.

The lodgings themselves were surprisingly empty. Just a few pallids lined the slipshod, shelf like beds. A grey Weavile and Mightyena resting in the corners. An equally monochrome Stoutland snoozing by the door. Where was everyone? Cerise was about to take a step forward when her paw froze, fur on her back standing up on end.

Pull yourself together. This just makes the job easier. Too late to back out now.

She held her breath, while the sound of rain mixed in with the low, hoarse snoozes around her. Though her fur was no less startled, Cerise made her way to the center of the room. Tracing a paw across the ground, she let a soft gasp when the floorboards aligned a bit too loosely.

Is… is this—

The Zorua's smile faded once she'd lifted the board. A secret compartment, to be sure, but… pamphlets? No dice. She'd need to dig deeper. What the cathole did do, however, was uncover the dirt underneath. Cerise felt like a pokemon with their paws in the cookie jar as she slowly dug. Only, what she was grappling with was a stuck, stubborn jar that refused to show its contents with every pawful of dirt she dug up. With a sizable pile next to her, Cerise let out a scoff. Her father was probably watching from the marble balcony overlooking the work farm, laughing like a Wooloo over the sheet he'd pulled over his daughter's—

Tink.

Her eyes shot open. Barely visible under a layer of sand, there it was. Another minute of her paws scraping against the dirt, and it was in hand. Faded. Rusted beyond belief. Barely bigger than a lunch box, and yet enough that her whole form seemed to tremble. She held the steel container gently, as if lifting up a corpse from a grave; It took a second to get rid of the thought of what that made her.

The lid nearly fell off as Cerise unlatched it. Behind it all, however, as dry and preserved as the day it'd been left, was the true treasure. Her paws were a flash grasping for the sizable, leatherbound journal within. It had a familiar look, only twenty years less weathered than its counterparts. Just as Cerise set the journal onto the floor, her head tilted.

It hadn't been alone. Hiding under where the book had been in the time capsule, she spotted what looked like two scarves. One a shining gold, the other a radiant green, the cloths remained tied together at the end, even with corners singed, shocked, and threadbare. In truth, there was only a bit of color left on the former, the rest either lost to time, or faded into a smoky grey. Wracking her thoughts, Cerise's muzzle scrunched up.

Is that… no. Focus.

Time seemed to slow as Cerise opened the first page. She found her thoughts heavy, seeing from the backside of the cover a familiar picture taped on. Girafarig on one side, Zoroark on the other, egg in the center; happier times, but they couldn't be as lost as the two-face wanted her to believe. Directly under were two ink prints, a hoof and paw respectively. As she looked over to read the next page, Cerise held her breath; she wouldn't mistake that handwriting for the world.

Introduction

In all likelihood, Honey, our manes will be old and gray by the time we settle down to read these memoirs, but I hold that seeing the good we've done, and will do for the beings of Faire will do just as much to keep our memory fresh. Years spent exploring this wonderous region at each other's side, dungeons traversed, communities built up, days upon weeks spent compiling this swanna song, and yet… I still look at raising this egg at our side, so full of life and limitless possibilities, as the greatest challenge and thrill that we'll face. You've always watched my back (and your own, if that tail of yours has anything to say), and—

"You're not with them, are you?"

The low, gruff voice crawled over her neck. She whipped around, inadvertently kicking the journal back. By the time Cerise had met eyes with the Stoutland across the room, she'd nearly jumped out of her own fur. His eyes were fierce yet steady against the moonlight, with more than enough curiosity to match her own.

"W-what do you mean?" Cerise replied, firming her stance to the Pallid. "I'm… I'm here on my own business. Was just about to gather my things and get out of all your hair."

Piolu's response was a gruff grunt, while his furry, three-pronged brow furrowed. The Stoutland looked as if playing scrabble, trying to find where exactly a new piece fit.

"Don't got a reason not to believe that," he responded. "Long since memorized the guards, and even if you were one, you'd be flaunting a badge. Besides, they'd have been a bit different finding our little library under the floorboards. Name's Piolu, by the way. Light sleeper if you haven't noticed. Just hope you've decent grounds for being here."

There it was again. A slight waver in the Pallid's countenance. Insignificant by most standards, but enough to goad Cerise to step back. She held her ground, however, looking the Stoutland over. As the moon lifted over its clouds, the nicks, burns, and many years of his mane went into view.

"Cerise," she whispered back, looking down to pick her words. "I came here to dig up a time capsule I'm interested in. Doesn't have anything to do with you, those pamphlets, or anyone here. I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to, you probably don't want me here either, so this'll be a lot easier for the both of us if… if… "

Cerise's voice fell. Piolu had broken eye contact. His gaze lowered, though it wasn't until Cerise saw his target that a deep chill ran up her paws. Barely a foot or so in front of Cerise, cover opened and clear for all to see, was the journal. She opened her maw, only to freeze up seeing the Stoutland's perturbed squint. A Zoroark and Girafarig, upside down from his angle, but unmistakable nonetheless. For a half second, she was tempted to illusion the whole page away, but the damage was done.

Silence. Cerise crouched down, already planning a sprint to the door barely a foot from Piolu. The Stoutland's mind worked a mile a minute, combing his memory over the months of planning and labor until a single point dawned. All at once, his eyes widened.

"'More unique ties to our foe than we originally imagined'," Piolu whispered. "I've been mulling over what that Charmander meant when he said that for months, and now… "

Another crack of lightning rippled across the sky, with a barrage of rain that pounded against the ceiling. Just as Cerise primed to move, Piolu looked back up, taking a step closer to the door. His snout scrunched up, eyes glazed over in thought. Just barely, Cerise caught something else on the Stoutland's otherwise deadpan face; the start of a grin, though cloaked back in shadows once the moonlight shifted.

"Cerise," Piolu said with a corse, morbid tone, "do you have any idea how many pallids they have locked up here?"

She knew a poker face when she saw one. The Zorua took her own step toward the door, while scooping the journal into her bag.

"It must be—"

"Thousands," Piolu finished, matter of fact. "Thousands of souls. Thousands of pallids forced to break our bodies shifting through the dirt with lean stomachs, clipped wings, and shabby hooves because the pokemon of Faire couldn't be assed to do the work themselves."

He let out a half chuckle, which quickly turned into a coughing fit. On instinct, the Pallid covered his snout with one of his paws. Or… what was left of it, at least. As the limb met a stray beam of moonlight, Cerise only now noticed the scab of flesh in place of his front paw.

"That, or protectin' the ego of a single two face," Piolu added, with another listless laugh. "Don't think I'm going out on a limb on that one. 'Nother question, Cerise: Do you think he really gives a damn about us? About any of us?"

A day ago, Cerise could have spouted the answer like a Durant asked the same of a Heatmor. However, something held her back. Silence punctuated the room, with only the voices of a Girafarig, Bagon, and Fennekin to occupy her thoughts.

"He never said to me why he built this place," Cerise replied, "but I think I know. I-I don't like him anymore than you, and I don't think this is right, but… let's just say he's lost his fair share to nature."

She turned away, eyes drooping.

"A lot of pokemon have," Cerise finished.

The Stoutland tilted his head, pausing for a second. With every bit to ponder, his snout only crinkled more.

"The pompous assface can cry us a river for all I care. What's important, is that I can count on my one paw the number of pokemon out there who would lift their eyes from the bread and circuses to think about a bunch of grey beings asking for basic decency. Nothin' some newspapers, avians with pictures, or a single Raichu can do to stop that. There's only one pokemon on Faire who can finally give us what we deserve, and right now he'd rather fill graveyards than upset his perfect world."

Another flash of lightning lit up the cabin. There was no crack, however, only a sudden thud that took its place as Piolu slammed his hoof against the floor. Cerise jolted up, suddenly sensing more than one set of groggy eyes staring at her. The Mightyena in the corner peered its eyes open, as did the Weavile. The former let out a whimpered growl, staring to the Stoutland for explanation. Cerise was little inclined to wait that long.

"I'm leaving," she said, fangs bared under a snarl. "Just step aside, and things don't have to get—"

"No, they don't," Piolu interrupted, giving a careful glance to Mightyena and Weavile. "'Case you don't know, Cerise, we've been planning a little independence march. We're all prepared to fight and die if and when the two-face sends his army out to slaughter us, but… "

The Mightyena and Weavile looked to each other, then to the intruding Zorua, before ending at Piolu. Unsaid words rang clear through their ears with the Stoutland's connotation. Neither smiled, their faces pale and nearly apologetic knowing what had to come next.

"Well Cerise," Piolu said, tone matching the air's chill, "I'm willing to bet he'll be a lot more… respectful, if he knew that spillin' even a drop of pallid blood will cause his daughter the same. We've spent our whole life trapped in this prison, it's not unfair to have a week, maybe a month of your time, wouldn't you say?"

The Zorua could scarcely reply with her worst fears realized. The Mightyena gave an approving snarl, as his own splintered claws scraped against the floor. She didn't have time to think before her other flank faced the shadowed, glowing claw of the waiting Weavile. Surrounded on three sides, she had only her heated thoughts to counter the Stoutland's cold stare.

"Y-you're wasting your time," she shot back. "Dad and I… aren't exactly on good terms. He probably wants me locked up more than you do. The only thing you gain kidnapping me is a liability."

A moment's pause. Piolu's fur crest furrowed in thought, only to follow with a nonchalant tilt of his head.

"If you're lying then, Cerise, we've still got a lot to gain. If you're tellin' the truth, we've got nothing to lose."

He took a step forward, closing the gap once the Mightyena and Weavile did likewise. Cerise's legs felt weak. Her mind was a metronome. On one end, the ticking desire to somehow find a way around the Stoutland and run as far away from the cursed work farm as possible. On the other, a seething energy inside her to spring forward and claw his face off. Both the past and present coalesced, into a piercing, fiery stare from Cerise to Piolu.

"You'll never change, will you?" Cerise said, desperately trying to sense which pallid would strike first. "Guess I should have known that a long time ago. Here or any dungeon, it's all the same."

Piolu only huffed, words as impactful as against a wall.

"We're fighting for a better tomorrow, Cerise. You can tell me how it looks from the moral high ground after you've lived behind the barbed wire for twenty five years. Might take a bit of time for the Charmander, Raichu, and the rest of the pallids here to come around, but… with vigor in our hearts, and righteousness in our cause, we push on."

---

"Thank you all again for coming. I-I… I know we've each taken our own risk being here."

It was dark in the outermost shed of the pallid living quarters, more by necessity than anything. Rain thudded against the roof like a distant jackhammer, occasionally seeping through the cracks of the rusted shingles to drop on Argon's head. The air was humid. Thicker than usual, so much so that she couldn't tell whether her paws were sweating naturally, or from the dozen or so sets of eyes staring at her. Maybe that, or the Bagon no doubt waiting patiently at their apartment, wondering when his Raichu companion would return from her supposed 'midnight date' with a certain Charmander.

Colorful and grey eyes alike looked back at Argon in the cramped room. Mantine, Staraptor, even a Cramorant among other avians, carefully handpicked over the past months. A mutual, unspoken sense of apprehension filled the room as two Talonflame looked each other over in the audience. This was the first time the former had seen its clipped, monochrome counterpart in anything other than a Raichu's equally greyscale photos. Likewise, the Pallid Talonflame tilted its head while Argon cleared her throat, having its first sight of the dozen or so other pokemon of Faire they were somewhat sure had similar goals.

"W-we're only going to have one shot at this," Argon continued. "Getting all the pallids out of here is challenging enough, but unless we can show all the pokemon of Faire the suffering here, and that they're not alone in wanting change, then this is all for naught. That's where you all come i—"

Whatever grand posture Argon had mustered melted away, feeling the warm scales of a Charmander wrap itself around her legs. She let out a quick yelp, while the Pallid gave its own yip of approval. From its wide, feral eyes, it was a bit hard to tell what he was approving, but Argon smiled back nonetheless. Its flickering flame may not have lit up the room, but the faint glow emanating from the Pallid's exploration bag did the job just as well.

"I think it likes ya," Catalina said, her large flipper covering up a smirk. "First pallid I've seen that's a snugglemander."

Argon giggled, finding a brief reprieve in tension from the staring audience. She shuffled in a halfhearted attempt to move the Charmander, to little avail.

"You have no idea," Argon replied. "He… should be back to his usual self any moment now. I-It's a long story."

For a moment, Talonflame and Talonflame seemed united in equal parts confusion. Nonetheless, neither pokemon nor pallid of the crowd interrupted Argon as she shuffled over to a nearby crate. With a psychic flick, the lid nearly burst open. Packed together inside like a pile of autumn leaves were stacks upon stacks of photos nearly fresh off of the darkroom. Argon had a practised paw taking hold of the select bundle; Their value to the mission ahead dwarfed the small fortune it took to get every one of the slips developed.

"T-These will be your map for the big day," Argon said, levitating one birds eye photo a piece to each avian. "Timing, routes, everything has to be perfect for the airdrop to happen once all the pallids arrive at Pith Town. And… Sapeur."

A spark of electricity was the response, between two shards of rocks that jutted out from the crowd. Both Pallid and Pokemon in the crowd dispersed in record time, neither wanting to get hit by the lumbering steps of the grey Golem. Argon herself nearly jumped up with every shake of the floorboards as he approached.

"We're almost done widening the tunnel as far as she'll go, Ms.," Sapeur said, trying (somewhat successfully), to stroke his magnetic beard with each stubby hand. "Took a lot of lost sleep from a lot of good pallids, but once the big day comes, shouldn't be any trouble bringing all of us to freedom."

"Weren't for them," Catalina added, "and to get here I'd'a had to spend a lot more time laying off the fried Remor... "

The Mantine realized her faux pass just a second too late. She looked around, about to hastily mention her newfound vegetarian diet, though none of the Pallids seemed intent on pressing the issue; Small fry it seemed, with what was to come.

"Right," Argon replied, clearing her throat just a bit too quickly. "T-thank you, Sapeur. Thank you, everyone. We'll have about a month of practice till the big day. Until then, we'll—"

A thundering crash broke through the rainfall. Initially, Argon turned back, waiting for a lightning flash to follow. Others soon followed, only to hear another deafening slam, along with the crack of splintering wood.

"What… what was…"

Argon blinked, then blinked again, finding the familiar voice a much different tone than her inner monologue. She looked down to meet the wide, equally incredulous eyes of Eoin. A moment passed between Raichu and Charmander, the latter too shocked to realize he was still nestled around her legs.

A scream was next. Not any scream either recognized, but most definitely in pain. Argon's ears twitched as shock turned to urgency. They had to move.

"Where is it—how?" Eoin asked.

No one had an easy answer. All Eoin knew was the direction of the call, and from there, its unexplainable source.

He was the first out of the door, with Argon fast behind. After a few exchanged glances, Sapeur hobbled likewise, with both pallid and pokemon Talonflame in tow. Eoin gritted his teeth as the first gust of wind spat rain onto his scales and tail, reflecting against the faint, azure glow of his pouch. Whether empathy from her own soaked fur, or simple reflex, Argon levitated her own tail above the Charmander's flame. A flash caught their eyes, localized to the shed a dozen meters away, in the center of the shantytown.

"Piolu is in there!" Eion shouted, scales getting soaked in the muddy ground. "Others too. They should be lying low if any guards investigated. We only have a minute before—"

The Pallid looked up, not so much stressed by what he saw, but what he didn't. The usual line of guard towers were speckled in the distance, but the closest ones held search beams completely still. Absent too were the usual first responders, rushing forward with bared claws, sharpened fangs, and shining badges.

Instead, Raichu and Charmander had free reign as they sped to the door. The voices were getting clearer now, along with another anguished cry. Even with their ears against the walls, it sounded more like a whimper than anything. With a cold, quivering claw, Eoin opened the door.

"P-Piolu? Are you in there?" Argon asked.

"We heard the commotion, and came to—gods… "

She'd fought well. Scuffs, scratches, and splinters lined the shed. On one corner, the unconscious body of a Mightyena, fur singed from umbric fire and claws. On the other, was a Weavile, equally inert, and covered with a desperate array of bite marks.

Eoin's eyes grew wide trying to sputter out a sentence. Turning to the back of the room, he found little help. On the ground, with what looked like a few cracked ribs, and a paw bent in a way not natural for any pokemon, was a Zorua. The Zorua. A grey, clawed paw was pressing against her chest, its owner a Stoutland nearly equally contused. His breaths were labored, glaring deadset towards the unconscious Zorua. It wasn't until he saw the faint light of the door, that he turned to meet Eoin and Argon. He made to speak, only to let out a few last, hacking coughs. Regaining his posture, the Stoutland looked to Eoin with a hint of pride.

"It's good to see you two," Piolu said, gesturing with his head to the defeated Zorua. "Didn't expect the guildmaster's daughter to have that much fire in her, but I think now we got all the leverage we need for the big day."

A different kind of shock was plastered on Eoin's face as he took the time to parse Piolu's words. It was a shock Argon recognized well, one she'd have seen even if the Pallid was wearing his opaque goggles. Looking back between Stoutland and Zorua, Eoin took a deep breath. His voice was soft, as smothered as his own soaked scales.

"Piolu… what have you done?"
 
Chapter 33: No Time Left
"This… this wasn't part of the plan."

It was all he could say. The Pallid stood, frozen. His tail poked out of the doorway, hit by the occasional bursts of rain. He barely noticed it. There were only three other things that mattered in their cramped, dingy excuse for a shed; The Raichu at his side, the Zorua bloodied into unconsciousness in the middle, and the Stoutland staring him down from across. Curiously, Piolu seemed equally perplexed.

"So what?" he replied, jabbing his hoof at Cerise's side. "Everything we could ever need, everything we could want for this revolution is right here. Imagine the hundreds, thousands of lives we can save if o'l Two-face finds out that he can't push us around anymore. Isn't that what we wanted? Savin' lives?"

Cerise was left with just enough strength to recoil against the jab. She let out a low moan, clutching her paw against a deep gash in her belly. Nearly in unison, a shiver ran down both Raichu and Charmander at the sight. Though she quivered from head to toe in the oppressive chill of the room, Argon kept a stern glare at Piolu. Eoin found himself lost staring at the floorboards of the shed, maw open trying to speak faster than his mind could process.

"B-but even if I did agree, this was nowhere near necessary," Eoin stammered, blinking faster and faster in thought. "We've spent months planning to change the minds of Faire's populace, you know that better than anyone. T-there was never supposed to be any plan for violent confrontation in the first place. And more than that—"

"It's wrong," Argon finished, a ferocity in her voice that caused even Eoin to flinch. "Piolu, I-I… I understand that you don't have much reason to care for pokemon like Cerise, but kidnapping her goes against everything we've tried to stand for."

Drops of water fell through the frayed ceiling, as brief as the minute changes in the Stoutland's glare under his fur covered visage. He let out a gruff sigh, lifting the fractured end of his paw to his head as if rubbing his temples.

"You just don't get it, do you?" Piolu replied, centering his stance to Eoin while casting a brief glimpse at Argon. "Neither of ya do. 'Cuz you weren't there. Only took till now to realize it."

Neither Raichu nor Charmander could see each other in anything but peripheral, but between them was an unspoken conclusion to keep flames low and let words speak where sparks couldn't. Eoin moved first, taking a few steps forward that Piolu soon matched. The Stoutland kept a close eye as they covered both sides of the room, keeping his paw within reach of Cerise.

"Piolu," Eoin said, "I—"

"Weren't hauled out of your home as feral as a Cranidos by some posh resource team," Piolu finished gravely, staring down at Eoin."Weren't strapped to a plow like the thousands of Pallids here were, and forced to spend decades wasting your life away while pokemon watched you from above like we're all just a buzzing hive of combee. The very same guards made from folks an ocean away that you've got set in your mind will come runnin' to our aid."

Piolu's hoof slammed to the ground. The floorboards splintered from the hit, while his paw grinded into the grain as if smothering a candle flame. For a moment as the Stoutland made to speak, his maw stayed agape; from his flinch, it was hard to tell if even he wanted to believe it.

"Don't ya see it, Eoin?" Piolu seethed. "There's gonna be no big rush to our side once we pass the point of no return. Every single guard and resource team that set foot on this prison knew who we were, what we endured, and did fuck all." Piolu stamped his paw on the floor inches from the groaning Cerise. Her eyes focused on the cracks left in the planks, and she whimpered. "The thousands of pokemon lying ignorant in their beds won't be any different, no matter what some photos say. I wish it didn't get to the point where I had to spell it out like this, but…we've gotta face it, pallids are going to die. All we can do now is save who we can."

His chest heaved, out of breath waiting for an answer. In his attempt to find a retort, Eoin looked to Argon, only to find his partner's ears drooped, and her mind equally awash. It… couldn't be true? Could it? She could almost see herself just a few short months ago, nestled in the bunk of a room as crowded as this, glazing over some feel-good romance novel without a care in the world. Where would some boring, black and white article about pallids have landed? Cringing at the memory of her overflowing waste bin, she had a few ideas.

"B-but, " Argon said, voice trailing off, "we…"

"You're wrong."

It was Argon's turn to jump back. Eoin's voice rang through the room, along with the faint, charcoal like smell of his tail flame inflaming. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his claws balled into a fist.

"I've lived my life with more privilege than most," Eoin said. "I admit I spent the first weeks of my civilized life reading under a legendary's care while my brethren suffered. But my unique position has offered me a sight that you and most everyone else here was denied: a… hope."

Piolu met the Charmander's claim with a passive yet curious stare. Argon was very much the same, at least until the Pallid once steadfast in his stance at Piolu turned to meet her. She tilted her head, seeing in his wide, grey irises a steady warmth even in their perilous predicament.

"Eoin?" Argon asked.

"She had no reason to give me the slightest thought when we first met," Eoin said, tone a bit more bashful than usual. "But in spite of having a secure career, and as much knowledge as any other denizen of Faire for our capacity to harm, Argon reached out her paw. The dozen pokemon we've recruited are no different, nor are the thousands I've lived among, and am willing to bet harbor a sympathetic heart in Pith Town. Maybe not all, but enough for this kidnapping to cause more harm than help."

In any other situation, Argon would have felt her cheeks light up in warmth, but instead she found her paws sweaty, feet shaking awaiting Piolu's reply. The roof creaked and dripped as the Stoutland mulled over his words. After a long exhale that ruffled his fur lined snout, his voice dropped to a chilly drole.

"If yer so sure the pokemon you've been with on the other side will give a patrat's behind about you," Piolu said, a faint smile under his fur, "then why don't you test it right now? A jab at Eoin's chest caused him to shudder, with nowhere to look but his scale's hue. "Go on, go back to Pith Town like you are now, no goggles or scale paint to hide behind. See how much they really care about ya behind the mask. Will be a riot watchin' the guards decide where yer best put to work."

The recoil of hesitation in Eoin was all Piolu needed. His flame dulled, flickering in the breeze even as Argon stepped in front.

"That was different," Argon replied, cheeks sparking in the humid air. "E-Eoin hid who he was because nobody knew the truth about pallids. Trying to change that will do a lot more than kidnapping Ce—"

"You don't know that!" Piolu shot back, mangled paw pointing at the new threat. "Tell me this, Argon: What are you going to count on if your old boss decides our investment costs aren't worth lettin' us live? Words? A… A… "

His tone wavered, pointed paw trembling in a subconscious paralysis. The Stoutland looked around Argon, ears drooped looking at Eoin as if half muttering an apology.

"A newborn, pretty boy Charmander with his head in the clouds, just as likely to be stuck hugging your legs as he is to do any meaningful leading? It may be fine and dandy snogging your snouts together, but back here in the fields, we need someone who knows what our suffering is like, and can put their mind above the heat in their cheeks."

Argon's retort was instant, or at least it would have been. Her teeth began to chatter in anger, only stopped by a resounding 'floosh'. All at once, the once soaking fur on her back felt warm. Uncomfortable warm.

She looked back, anger faltering to shock at the sight. Eoin's claws were clenched, with only a faint shadow of his eyes in view over his drooped snout. Even from the front, Argon couldn't miss the grey flame on Eoin's tail.

"E-Eoin?" Argon whispered. "Are… are you…"

It rebelled against the rain, rising to the size of a campfire. Steam floated up behind him, while the edges of the doorframe where Eoin stood were singed a dusty black. Subconsciously, Argon found one of her feet shuffling back.

"Do you have any idea what you've just done?" Eoin snarled.

Another barrage of rain hit the ceiling while Piolu thought. It creaked and groaned, seeming ready to join Cerise in a collapsed state anytime.

"What was the best for all of us," Piolu replied, letting out another dry huff.

Not good enough. Eoin took a step forward, further blackening the door frame with fire that only the storm above could fight. He took another, and another still, until the Charmander stood right before Cerise, on the opposite side of Piolu. Still, the Stoutland did not falter.

"We had a chance, Piolu," Eoin said, voice nearly matching Piolu's piercing monotone. "Despite everything you've said, we had a chance. To stand side by side with the pokemon of Faire as equals. To show them that we were not the heartless, feral beings they've been trained to think we are."

In the faint, blue glow emanating from Eoin's bag, Argon could swear that Eoin's pupils were starting to grow thin. Finding her tongue heavy in the dense air, she took an instinctive position between the two. Angled at Piolu, though nonetheless primed to grab either should the hoofs, or claws lit by dim azure light struck.

"I can see where yer goin' with this," Piolu replied, exhaling sharply, "but you've gotta listen. You're too—"

A sharp growl left Eoin's muzzle, enough to keep the Stoutland tentatively silent.

"Because of your rash, opportunistic kidnapping, we don't have that chance anymore. Do you think there's any chance at rational, evenhanded change now that the pokemon of Faire will know that we kidnapped an innocent pokemon simply because of her heritage?"

"Look, Eoin," Piolu replied, "I don't think you understand. You. Weren't. There."

"Do you think any of the soldiers will stay their claws when we've played right into Binair's hand? When we repay a pokemon with cruelty, whom without her help I might not even be alive?"

The Stoutland's brow furrowed, stuck between mulling over the Charmander's words or countering them.

"That's not the point. How the pokemon judge us won't matter long as we have her."

"We'll be judged by larger forces than them," Eoin retorted, tail flame slowly growing almost to the ceiling. "Even if we do succeed, you've built a future of mistrust, of fear. You've attempted to strong arm a force that outnumbers us a hundred to one, slandering a name we were supposed to protect, all for the cheap cost of our moral fortitude!"

If for only a moment, Piolu looked down from Eoin's gaze. In a renewed darkness, was the soft rise and fall of Cerises bruised, bloodied chest. Dozens of the same scrape marks lined her whole body, while coughed up blood soaked the floor. Butterfrees swam in Argon's stomach seeing the Stoutland's eyes widen. A faint flash of lightning sounded as he shook his head, looking back up to Eoin.

"I stand by my decision," Piolu said, slamming his hoof against Cerise's back. "Been pushed around too much in my life to let the same thing happen now. If you don't like that, then I suggest you leave."

Hours seemed to take the place of seconds. Eoin's expression didn't change, the dim of his tail flame doing the talking. Down and down it went, filling the room with smoke until Argon saw only a grey candle flame, faintly blue against the moonlight.

"You," Eoin seethed, "you've damned us all."

"Move!"

Argon shot back, flinching as if a bomb had just exploded next to her ears. Following after was a sharp squawk, pushed to the side for footsteps to take its place. That voice…

"Out of the way, the both of you, if you know what's good for you. Cerise?"

The door creaked back, caught in a gust of wind. It was just about to shut when a rocky forehead bashed into it, slamming it off its hinges with the force of a battering ram.

A tentative silence followed the breach. Argon's fur went on end, seeing in the doorway Chimera's dimmed silhouette. His crossbow was drawn, eyes like a Watchog looking for a Zorua's form. At first, his gaze set upon the Raichu and Charmander on the left and right, and for a moment his adrenaline fueled glare subdued.

It wouldn't last. Piolu was the third to look back, unmoving whether in surprise, or lacking the will and desire to back down. Still, the Bagon stayed his hand, weapon lowering to the floor.

At least, until he heard the groan. More of a whimper than anything, of a battered and bruised demeanor Chimera could scarcely believe belonged to the same pokemon. And yet, there she was. Blood, scars, and fractures clear for all to see against a dim, blue light. Chimera's eyes shot open, breath sucked out of him. She was tucked in a loose fetal position, barely able to breath against the ragged, clawed paw pressing down against her back.

In unison, Argon and Eoin glared at each other, having so much to say, yet veiled in an instinctual panic that held their lips just long enough. For another few seconds, Chimera stayed in something similar, chilling rain crashing against his grey cape.

"C-Chimera," Eoin sputtered, "I can—"

A loud 'thwick' hit the air. Argon knew that sound, knew it all too well. She didn't even need to turn her head to see what had happened; Piolu's roaring scream was enough to tell. All Eoin saw was a faint glimmer of light, from a razored bolt soaring through the air straight into the Stoutland's shadowed eye. A stream of colorless blood clashed against the blue light, all the while Piolu shook his head in a blind stuper.

"Fuck! F-fucking shi—arrghhh!"

Chimera was already halfway across the room when Argon gasped. Were it any other pokemon behind the crossbow's sights, any other visage with bared fangs and fury charging against the Stoutland, she could have intercepted him like any dungeon foe.

Not once had he acted this fast. While Piolu struggled to open his right eye, fractured paw flinching against his pierced left, the Bagon struck. Like a ram, his bony forehead crushed against his foe. A distinct crack from the Stoutland's jaw followed another sputter of grey blood. Piolu collapsed. There was barely enough time for fear when he looked up, seeing the otherwise stout Bagon towering over him. His breath seethed. Glimmering against the moonlight, held in Chimera's hand with an icepick grip, was a razored bolt.

"Chimera!"

A familiar paw shot up against the Bagon's wrist, holding it back.

"J-just give me a reason," Chimera sputtered. "Just give me a reason why I shouldn't!"

With the start of tears in his eyes, Chimera glanced back at Argon, desperate for an answer. Argon didn't have an easy one. His hand flinched in her grasp, finding not a single word from her in defense of the Stoutland's actions. And yet…

"Chimera," Argon whispered, quivering in fear or intensity, "p-please."

All anyone could hear were the faint groans of agony, pallid and pokemon alike. All Chimera saw, where the deep blue, solom irises of his partner.

He knew that look. It was a pale memory, nearly trampled by hours of explorations, administrative training, and paperwork, but he knew it. The dampness in the air. The chittering moans of a foe at his mercy. The flush of anger that couldn't stop his knees from feeling weak. The desperate, pleading look for the human behind his scales. All at once, he knew.

His hand loosened from the bolt, letting it stab itself into the floor. What was likely the biggest sigh of relief he'd heard left Argon's muzzle. Just as Chimera returned a solemn nod, he caught a glimpse of her cheeks sparking in the darkness. Electrons flowed through her tail, diffusing along with a great deal of stress into the floor. Just then, the two blinked, sharing a realization:

Argon could have paralyzed his arm anytime she wanted. She'd done it before, after all, to save his life no less, and yet… why not now? Before the Bagon could give it another thought, a tentative hand set itself on his shoulder.

"Chimera," Eoin said, soft voice as if trying to soothe a Tauros, "I can't… I can't apologize enough for this. To both you and her."

Chimera's teeth clenched, thoughts warring on whether to let the Pallid's hand remain, or bat it away. In a shaky compromise, he turned back, stepping away from the two to look back at Cerise. The sight of the bloodied Zorua made his gut churn as he took a knee. The claw marks were unmistakable, from Stoutland, Weavile, and Mightyena alike. One of the Bagon's hands clenched, the other checking that her pulse was steady.

"Months…" Chimera whispered.

Eoin tilted his head, combing over what to say as if diffusing a bomb. His flame flickered, knowing the thousands of beings within the blast range of poor words.

"She'll be given the best care," Eoin said, "I assure you. I only ask that we can keep what's transpired a secret from Faire's—"

"I kept your secret for months," Chimera finished.

His thoughts broiled. Eoin stepped back from Chimera's piercing gaze, muzzle stammering.

"I told you I thought this was wrong!" Chimera shouted, slamming his fist against the floor. "I lied to my boss's face when I had every reason not to, because I respected you. Because I thought if I didn't tell him, if I stayed out of it, maybe you could shut this farm down while living up to your plan that no blood would be spilt."

"T-that was my hope," Eoin countered. "I… I couldn't have predicted this. I implore you, Chimera, thousands of innocent beings will be left to destitution if any pokemon finds out. Piolu was a renegade, we tried to stop it! His actions, they… they weren't from us."

The Pallid's plea fell on deaf ears. Chimera looked away, finding nothing to look at except the open door. A thin puddle of rain had formed where the dirt met the floorboards. In its warped reflection, Chimera could just see the silent reflections of some of the pallid sheds.

"They weren't from you," Chimera replied. "They weren't from the pallid that got a free ticket to sentience from Uxie. The rest? Well, I'm pretty sure Cerise is lucky that there were only three pallids here. Are they who I've been keeping a secret for? Half feral pallids that brutalize pokemon like Cerise?"

"They were three pallids out of the entire camp!" Eoin said back. "Your anger is warranted, but I offer you my word that no other pallid would have approved of this. I can bring in dozens who'd say the same. Hundreds!"

"From thousands?!"

Eoin bit his lip, just short of an honest confirmation. Argon was the one to take a knee in front of Chimera, glancing behind her to find Piolu sulking in the corner, attempting to treat his wound. None could deny that Chimera's scowl loosened in Argon's presence, though… something else briefly went unspoken between Bagon and Raichu. A slight furrow of the brow, a quick blink too many, or perhaps a recollection that, by each other's accounts, they both should have been a sea away in their bunks.

"T-the important thing is that we get them medical attention," Argon said. "You're free to do anything afterwards, Chimera. I-it's just… this is our only chance to get pallids the freedom they deserve. Please, you know what happens here is wrong."

Yet another weight to the scales. Chimera felt himself sulk, unable to rebuke her words. They stood against a counterweight of obligation. Remorse against anger. The desperate gaze of his partner against the expectant eye of his superior. A lifetime of education in another world screaming one action, the imagery of a fox's mangled form shouting another. Without a word, Chimera placed his arms under Cerise, softly picking up the Zorua as he turned back to the two; the die was cast.

"I'm sorry, " Chimera replied. "but I have to tell the truth. The whole truth. Eoin, Argon..."

The Pallid flinched, while Argon's ears drooped. As Eoin's breaths quickened, a temptation took him to make a break for the doorway. What were two pokemon's freedom to winning that of thousands? After a sideways glance to his Stoutland counterpart, however, stemming his bloodied eye with a loose rag, he found his feet weak.

All the electrons, and all the stress in Argon that had grounded into the floor came back with vengeance. They had to do… something. The very nature of their plan was based on surprise. Negating the Charmander next to her, however, there was likely no other pokemon than the Bagon her stomach reeked more at the thought of attacking. Could she stay the Raichu that stood by? The Raichu that stood by while all their plans, and the freedom of thousands were ground to—

"We've known each other a while," Chimera said, turning to the door. "In spite of everything, if there's any pallid or pokemon I trust can make sure this doesn't happen again, it's you two. I have my own obligations, but… just know it'll take a few hours of travel before I can tell Binair. Use them well, and… I guess I'll see you on the other side of the barricade."

Argon blinked, and blinked once more, as if her eyes were as surprised as her ears. Chimera's hands fidgeted, thoughts glazed over in an undying hope to have his cake and eat it too. It was only at the first step out of the shed that he hesitated, unable to turn back, yet with a muddy and uneven road before him.

"I-I'm sorry things ended up like this for us," Argon said. "For everyone…"

With a deep breath, Chimera glanced back, taking his first step forward all the while. A fleeting yet firm grin took to his muzzle as rain battered against his form. It was the most he could manage.

"Don't worry," he replied. "We'll all do our part to make sure no one dies. With everything I have, I'll make sure of that."

A few more steps into the dreary night, and he was gone. It was only after a moment more of staring into the darkness that Eoin let out his held breath. They looked at each other, loose posture and smiles telling a story of relief. Between Eoin's roaring flame, however, and the near constant sparks from Argon's cheeks, they each knew different.

"It's not perfect, but it'll have to be good enough," Eoin said. "I'll handle the ground evacuation. Between the adverse weather, and lack of preparation, I had hoped that the spirits would have been kinder. But… we have no time left."

Argon nodded, maw just about to open when her breath hitched. Slowly, her eyes widened. It was a minor detail, barely of note with the colossal adversity ahead of them, but the faint blue glow, the azure light that had shone from Eoin's bag to his scales, it was gone.

It took another second of incredulous silence at Argon's shock for Eoin to realize the same. All of the sudden… the bag felt a lot lighter now.
 
Chapter 34: Developing Pieces
They were almost there.

They had to be, right? It had been hours, at least. Hours of trudging back through miles of flooded cobblestone roads with her in his arms. With every turn, Chimera's gaze raised in a silent hope that the elusive Port Obstand would appear before them, only to meet yet another winding trail of rock and palm trees. His feet were chilled to the bone with every step into muddied puddles, and the stubby arms that felt Cerise's slow heartbeat had been cramped for over an hour.

There was no other option. Duel weights pushed on his exposed shoulders with a cascade of rain, both to the fox blanketed under his cape, and the Girafarig still ignorant to what the revolution had already cost him. Another thunderous rumble echoed in the darkness. Dipping his stony forehead to shield his eyes from the droplets, Chimera's hands clenched; A silent desire brewed in his chest to raise his voice to demand Lugia, Kyogre, Zapdos, Thundurus, or whoever else was in charge here shut the fuck up.

It wouldn't be long until a new dawn. Another corner rounded, and another flooded path ahead. Figures.

"I-It's…"

Chimera's eyes shot open. Just as quickly, her bated voice faded. He nearly tripped over a loose stone hidden by the water, only able to muster an apologetic frown at his stumble.

"Yeah?" Chimera asked. "Please hang on. We're… we're almost there. Will be sipping cocoa at the port before you know it."

Her reply was cut off by a few hacking coughs. Listening close, Chimera could swear they sounded like faint chuckles.

"It's ironic, isn't it?" Cerise whispered, glancing back to give Chimera a tepid smile. "N-not even yesterday, we were exchanging shadow balls and crossbow bolts across the cafe table. Now y-you're carrying me back like a newborn kit."

Chimera blinked, then blinked once more. Feeling her shift in his arms, he forced a toothy grin; the harsh winds had affected both their wits. It would be an even match.

"Well, for however much it helps, I'd say those three pallids got off worse in the exchange," Chimera replied. "And… not too ironic, really. After all, I couldn't let a worthy foe such as yourself miss the dinner we agreed on."

"If," Cerise replied, her tone bright even as she forced a paw to her ribs, "If you think I'm letting you pay the tab after tonight, you've got another thing coming."

A stammer left Chimera, all he could muster for a comeback. It was hard to even imagine a restaurant, little able to see anything three feet ahead but muck, and trees whose branches jutted out from the shadows.

"Well, what does the 'Dread Bandit Cerise' have in mind?" Chimera asked. "If you think I'm gonna let you pay for overpriced Basculin meunière in your state, you better have something pretty convincing."

"Well…"

Chimera could feel Cerise shift in his grasp, like a mother fox shielding her kit with her body. The hint of levity in the Zorua's tone fell as they pressed on, splashes filling the silence. Turning back to face him, she let out a deep sigh, filling the chilled air with fog.

"Arceus, I was stupid, wasn't I?" Cerise asked.

"Hmm?"

The half second pause as Chimera bit his lip wasn't encouraging, but did she deserve anything but corroboration? Let alone from the pokemon carrying her limp body through thick and thin, from a poorly planned and even more poorly executed heist?

"It…" Chimera replied, "It was a shitty situation all around. I know I couldn't have done it any better, or known that kidnapping was on the table of their little revolution. You did what you had to do."

"I've been saying that to myself for years," Cerise said back, "and look what that got me. Captured. Getting out of prison, only to get captured again, and saved by the Bagon I'd originally stolen from."

"Granted, I was the reason you went to prison in the first place," Chimera added, with a chuckle that was just a bit too hollow for his liking. "So… I guess it all evens out, between that and not blasting my face in when you had the chance at the theatre."

A bit of tension ran through Cerise as her face strained. The Zorua looked on as if trying to concentrate on a test, yet could not produce an answer.

"Sophia wants to say thanks for what you did, by the way," Cerise replied. "She-uh… can't really come out right now, b-but between her, and how this whole mess worked out, I can't help but think… all this time running, stealing, pulling myself away from others, and what do I have to show for it? A worn, decades old journal that could very well end up saying that it's all been a waste? Well, that and…"

The Zorua shuffled again, while Chimera adjusted the cape so she remained sheltered from the elements.

"Well, you've certainly made my life a lot more interesting," Chimera offered, putting on as much enthusiasm as he could. "We've had our differences, but even with everything else I've been given, there's something you add that I can't find anywhere else. Had to dodge a few more shadow balls than my other friends, but—"

"Chimera?"

The Bagon froze, mid dry chuckle. There was something familiar about Cerise's smirk. It was hidden under a layer of soaked fur and exhaustion, but that mischievous look, that slight twitch of her maw just an inch or two from his had returned.

"Yeah?"

Chimera held his breath, pace grinding to a halt.

"... Check your bag."

"Check my wha—"

It took Chimera a full second of silence to realize it. With a labored grunt, Cerise rolled, so that her belly once hidden to the floor faced him. Strapped protectively to it was the Zorua's exploration bag, innocuous by itself, yet... had she lost weight, or had he gained?

Glancing to his side, it appeared both. The canvas satchel at his own hip felt just a bit heavier, while shining back at Chimera's wide eyes, seeped an unmistakable blue radiance. The Bagon blinked, as if it were only a mirage.

"That," Chimera stammered, "that's…"

"I-In hindsight, I really shouldn't have it," Cerise continued, a hint of melancholy returning to her voice. "It was back in that shed. I was knocked out, drifting in and out of consciousness from the pain. I-I remember waking up for a few seconds, and seeing grey scales in front of me. I… I was angry. Angry at everything. A-And when I saw his satchel with the time gear in it, while the two voices were focused on each other, I…"

Chimera stared on, not needing any more. Instantly, he opened the bag, spotting the familiar silver sheen as raindrops glowed blue against its light. His scaled hand dragged along the surface; It was as real as can be.

"I did the only thing I could think of," Cerise finished. "Even after the damn thing was worthless to me after the compass test, I just didn't want them to have it. I-If this really is all for naught once I get back, I want you to take it. I'll bet a former human like you can put it to better use than I ever could."

"I—" Chimera's breath hitched in his throat. She must need it for something, right? "I don't… I'm not…"

He picked up the pace, feet trudging through the mud as if they could make up the slack of his mind. It was the artifact that had started it all (one of them, at least), yet why did the Girafarig at the end of his march hold it in so high regard? There was no temporal tower to save. No impending collapse that it was the key to halting, right? If Uxie were to be believed, it was little but a battery taken from its source. The most important object of his entire career exploring, yet a paperweight.

"Thank you," the Bagon finally uttered, his toothy grin reflecting a pale blue back at Cerise. "For everything. I never knew that the bandit I met in that forest would end up giving me so much. We'll figure this out, though. We'll see if these are what'll bring your mom back, once we get back to Bi… well, speak of the devil."

It was little but the outline of a single cabin silhouetted against the distant treeline, but Chimera already knew they had made it. The Bagon's once arduous march turned into a jog, labored breaths gaining a new energy as he ran down the road. Cerise did her best to keep her visage from going one way or another; Even under a prideful mask, the Zorua could not decide whether meeting the Girafarig meant salvation or doom.

"I-I guess I can't put this off any longer," she whispered.

Neither Chimera, Binair, nor the gods above would wait. Even under a dreary moon, the softly flowing shores of Port Obstand, cut through with neatly aligned docks and steamboats never looked any brighter. Chimera fell to his knees, panting all the while as he set Cerise to the floor.

There he was. The Girafarig stood next to Chimera's own personal office, not a few dozen feet from them. He'd been waiting all night, it seemed. Two sets of bagged eyes stared into the distance, unwavering to catch when Bagon and Zorua would finish their triumphant march home.

It was not to be. As soon as the pair rounded the corner, what psychic power that was left keeping the umbrella levitating over the Girafarig's mane tore itself apart. It fell to the soiled ground, leaving Binair's wide eyed, petrified face open to the elements. One eye twitched.

He sped forth, with a ferocity that could put even the most conditioned Rapidash to shame. Before Chimera had even lifted his head, Binair was before them. The cape nestled over Cerise's form hid the worst of it, at least that was what Chimera wanted to believe. The dashes of blood dotting its surface from each cut, the paw sticking out that was bent in a manner no pokemon should ever have to see much less experience… it was unmistakable.

"By God," Binair whispered, every bit of zeal and poise in his voice thrown to the wind. "Cerise… Darling, what forced you to a state such as this? H-how could I—"

"I'll explain everything that happened, Sir," Chimera said, biting his tongue as he struggled to meet the Girafarig's eye. "There's a lot you need to know I haven't been forthcoming about. What's important now, though, is getting Cerise medical attention."

Any notion of deception from Chimera seemed to go in one of Binair's ears and out the other. The Girafarig was acting on pure instinct now, driven by a force neither economics nor management could hope to match.

"R-right. Thank you, old chum," Binair replied, horns glowing a vibrant pink as an aura surrounded Cerise. "We can have you in a hospital ship and with the best doctors West Faire has to offer before sunrise. It shouldn't—"

A paw raised, shutting the Girafarig in his tracks. With a deep groan, Cerise rolled over to meet her father, clutching the bag at her chest like it was a close friend. The uncertainty, the fear as Binair's gaze met hers hit Cerise infinitely worse than any anger he could muster.

"Wait," Cerise said. "W-wait. Set me down. There's… something I need to do first."

Binair was in no state to deny it. From what Chimera saw, Cerise could have asked the Girafarig to throw himself into the harbor, and not five seconds later he'd hear a splash. The Zorua's paw gripping her bag began to shake, from what Chimera suspected had little to do with the rain. It took her a few more seconds to even unbutton the top, and pull out the worn book underneath. Binair took a step back, only to freeze halfway seeing a journal that had stood the test of time better than any of them.

"I need to see this through," Cerise finished. "I-I need to see if it was all worth it in the end."

Binair did not even breathe as Cerise flipped past the first page. He stood, watching a film he knew the end to all too well, yet could not say a word of. A glimmer of hope flashed in the Zorua while she skimmed from page to page. Again and again, her paw flipped, becoming more ferocious with every second. After each turn, a new barrage of rain soaked into the faded parchment, smudging the ornate cursive almost faster than she could even read it.

All at once, it stopped.

Chimera tilted his head, only able to catch the title over Cerise's shoulder: Conclusion. Her eyes moved much slower this time. The Zorua's ears drooped, giving time for a nonexistent Zoroark to speak into her ear with each word. Even as close as she was, Chimera could garner little of her reaction; illusion or not, she hid it well.

"Well," Chimera whispered, the first to break the silence, "how does it look? If there's anything you need help with on your research, anything at all, I'll be—

The book dropped. Cerise's paws went limp, not saying a word of pages that had remained for decades becoming sullied with mud. Before Chimera could even gasp, he saw why; it was not just rain that had soaked the last page, nor the fox's cheeks. Her breath quivered, sniffling as she turned to face the two with messy tears.

"S-so… that's it then," Cerise weeped, gritting her teeth to fight back any more. "Everything. The artifacts. The legendaries. The time heist. M-mom. All just a… a chimera. A stupid dream, from a thief that was too stubborn to face the facts."

Like most things, she hid it as well as she could. Only a faint sniffle, or a paw rubbing her eyes breached the Zorua's defenses. Yet she didn't move. Not an inch, simply staring as the parchment turned into an imperceivable mush. Silently, Chimera held his hand out, intending what comfort he could reaching for her back.

He never could, however. The ragged, faintly green scarf levitating over her neck had gotten there first. Silently, Cerise gasped, unmoving as the fabric lowered itself to her nape.

"I wouldn't see it like that," Binair said, nestling the other gold scarf back into the Zorua's pack. "Quite the opposite, in fact. I… think she would be proud."

Her fur tensed, back still facing Binair. A tepid paw reached to the scarf, not sure whether to hug it close, or tear it off to join the journal.

"W-what do you mean?" Cerise asked. "I wasted all these years, caused so much wrong on a faulty plan. On a—"

"On a hope," Binair finished, giving a faint smile to the Zorua's back. "Something your mother had in spades. Regardless of the outcome, I believe this whole venture, and the… schism it caused has proved two things."

One clop of the Girafarig's hooves was soon joined by another. Now at her side, Binair lowered himself to the floor without a word. It wouldn't be unreasonable for her to shuffle away, and yet… Cerise remained, even as Binair laid his own hoof against her back.

"The first, that you're every bit the explorer that she was. You faced adversity, imprisonment, and my own continued negligence when I should have done everything I could to remain beside you. Yet you never lost faith, and you saw things through to the very end. Those are traits that I can guarantee even Ezra would admire."

She was well versed in hearing hollow regrets from the Girafarig; they were much easier to ignore through the prison visitation windows. And yet… something was different. That 'I know what's best as your father' voice seemed so detached. So distant. As that familiar war ravaged through the Zorua's mind, she offered only a soft grunt, neither pushing nor pulling Binair one inch. Clearing his throat, Binair knew what came next; it didn't make it any easier.

"The second, that I have completely failed in my duty as a father to you. I have prestige, power, and property to my name since starting this venture with your mother, yet… am no wiser than when I started. I'll have many to make up to once my sins are judged, but if there's any being that deserves my pentenance first, dear, it's you."

"W-what are you suggesting?" Cerise asked.

Deep down, she knew. She'd heard the same from a father that could not put his personal glory aside for the world. With every second, however, it was becoming harder to cast his words aside as usual. The Zorua quivered, on a knife's edge.

"A new beginning," Binair replied. "Father and daughter. In truth, I have been preparing for some time, but I'll only persist with your consent. I know firsthand what the price is for one's hopes going awry, and my one wish is to make up for lost time before that happens. I-I… I don't want to lose you again."

There was nothing else to say. The Girafarig's voice seemed on the edge of breaking, knowing it would not be unreasonable for the Zorua to turn away. Chimera sucked in a breath, taking a step back to let the Zorua decide. It was no doubt as uncomfortable for the Bagon as the last… encounter, but he could not deny that something felt right.

A full minute passed of silence, as a future long thought lost seemed to claw its way back into Cerise's life. A paw reached to her scarf, the last remnant of a past that would never come again. The door she sought may have been only an illusion, yet that did not discharge the pathway beyond.

"I-I… fine," Cerise said, turning to face Binair with the first smile in a decade. "I'll give it a try."

It was all too easy for Binair to respond in kind.

"That is all I ask."

---​

Eoin could rarely recall a time when sunlight shining down below had made his flame tremble as much as now. When darkness cloaked the prison, and their tenuous route between the tunnel's exit, and the outskirts of Port Obstand, fortune seemed to have smiled upon them. The evacuation had succeeded, yet that was the easy part. Peeking through a break in the treeline, the very world seemed to close in on Eoin.

At his front, a few hundred feet ahead, was the port. Most of its ground had dried over after the prior rain, guarded by dozens upon dozens of exploration teams and guards. From the look of the Liepard and Golisopod guarding the entrance, it appeared as any average day.

Glancing behind him, Eoin knew it much the opposite. Hundreds of pallids stood anxious behind him in the outskirt forests. In a few minutes, there would be hundreds more. They stood in varying states of health, strength, and stature, yet there was a fire in each and every eye only liberty could sate. He knew them doubtless an even match against the port defenses, yet no more. As his gaze lowered to his claws, Eoin took a deep breath; it was do or die now.

"You alright, Sir?" a Carkol asked.

"Nothing to worry about, Sir. We're behind you every step of the way," a Talonflame added.

"I trust you, Sir," a Golem continued. "You'll be better at this than Piolu ever could."

"E-Eoin?"

The last whisper hit the Pallid the most. A familiar paw set itself on his back, a warmth that even the chill of morning could not dim. Eoin's flame lulled, in a strange desire to close his eyes and give himself to a more feral form looking back at Argon.

"But," Eoin replied, "but… what if he was ri—"

"I'm nervous too," Argon said back, with a few crackles of her cheeks corroborating. "B-by Arceus, I am, but we can't turn back now. Everything you've ever worked for is coming to a head. You were the one that taught me how important it is to take a stand; the least I can do is repay the favor."

In truth, Argon couldn't fully tell what made her do it. The rush of adrenaline knowing the importance of what was to come? The fear of not seeing the Charmander's endearing smile once the sun had set? Perhaps… a simple instinct in her being that it felt somehow right. Either way, Eoin could scarcely get in another word, feeling Argon's maw press against his own.

Eoin gasped, almost verbatim to Argon's own gasp just a few short months ago from his own unprompted embrace. It was a short kiss, all things considered. After a few long, yet fleeting seconds, Argon pulled away. She turned back, waving to a long line of avians spread out through the forest. Catalina was waiting for her with a wing ready, and pouches of developed photos strapped to her belly like a dive bomber.

"Best of luck, Eoin," Argon replied. "I-I'll see you on the other side."

A quick flap of wings as the avians took off above the trees, and she was gone. The Charmander's flame billowed in deep, labored breaths, unable to stem the warmth from his cheeks. One thing was certain as he turned back to the awaiting pallids; the fear was buried.

"I will scout ahead for the most vulnerable entrance," Eoin proclaimed. "Once I return, the revolution will begin in earnest. Steel yourselves; we march today for a better world for all."

He was no stranger to the tonalities of stealth. A lightless tail, and feral upbringing only somewhat overcome did much to help Eoin as he scurried across the perimeter. The defenses seemed as usual. Checkpoints were manned. Pairs of pokemon stood guarding every important intersection, and yet… strange.

On the very edge of the port, where the sand met the sea, the guard station was completely unmanned. Ducking behind a collapsed tree, not a hundred feet away from the sentryless station, Eoin tilted his head. It appeared as if out of a painting, with only a faint breeze, a softly flowing shore, and a beached, dilapidated fishing boat to its name. Was it a sloppy guard detail change? A careless sentinel abandoning his post for a quick drink? It… couldn't be that easy, could it?

Regardless, he had few other options. A direct assault on any other sections of the perimeter would be a recipe for avoidable tragedy. Eoin felt his scales shake as his foot met the sand, scurrying as fast as he could to make a break behind the empty guard post.

"Pleasant day, isn't it, Eoin? Though, nothing revolutionary I imagine."

Every single muscle in Eoin froze. He'd gotten maybe a couple dozen feet before hearing that voice. One confirmed suspicion after another flashed through the Pallid. He could barely turn around, only just able to eye the wrecked, dilapidated vessel behind him, and the Girafarig head poking up from its hull.

"No need to be tense, good sir," Binair continued, beaming a smile that anywhere else, from any other pokemon would have seemed inviting. "It's been a long day for both of us, I imagine."

"Y-you're… you are too late!" Eoin shot back, head on a swivel searching for the followup ambush. "We've already evacuated enough pallids from your prison. Even without me, your grand empire is moments away from—"

"For God's sake," Binair interrupted, giving a light chuckle, "I did not spend the last three hours tanning on a sloop to capture you or your followers here. Quite the opposite in fact— may you stop turning your head like a Noctowl?" Binair rolled his eyes as he shook his head. "I give you my word I've come alone."

There was not a single fiber of Eoin's being that would rate the Girafarig's word worth more than the bird droppings lining the vessel's hull, but a few more seconds of inspection gave nothing to the contrary. He was taken aback turning to Binair. Not from any strike team jumping out of the craft to apprehend him, but the folding beach chair held in his telekinetic grasps.

"Why are you here then?" Eoin asked, glancing over his shoulder. "If Chimera really did tell you what was coming, why waste time hiding alone?"

"To offer a proposal," Binair replied. "I figured a neutral location would ease tensions. Care to take a seat? I would have brought a chair for myself, but… my stature's become a bit uncooperative."

The chair unfolded, nestling itself in the sand next to him. Eoin narrowed his eyes, attempting to discern what tells he could from the Girafarig. All his options seemed bad ones. Of course, if he was telling the truth, the wisest course would be to turn his flame to Binair and run, but… Eoin could not deny a strange, almost morbid curiosity. As Binair levitated a checkered picnic blanket to his side, the Pallid took a tentative seat. A few seconds later, and no pop up chains, ropes, nor shackles to see.

"I doubt you would suddenly acquiesce now," Eoin said, eyeing a small table floating out of the hull set itself between them. "What reason do I have to not suspect a trap?"

"Simple," Binair replied, a steadfast stare overtaking his grin. "From what Chimera has told me, you and Argon acted in defense of my daughter. I respect someone who stands up for their belief, even against their own organization."

The Charmander bit his tongue, almost disappointed he had no counter. For how leisurly Binair nestled to the blanket, it could have been a vacation.

My proposal is this: I offer you and your followers safe passage from this port to Pith Town. Should you choose, you may have your march and see how the denizens of Faire judge you. In exchange, I have only one condition."

Eoin's piercing glare told the obvious question. His own imprisonment? Forced subservience after the march? The Pallid could scarcely tell what his opposite would levitate next out of that hull; a checkered board filled with ornately carved pieces, and two glasses of wine wasn't exactly his first guess.

"...Being?"

"That you and I," Binair said, holding a soft tone, and gentle smile, "shoot the breeze this fine day, and have a little discussion… along with a game of chess, if you wouldn't mind. I've been feeling anxious for a match since our last meeting."

Eoin felt his eye noticeably twitch at the proposition. In hindsight though, he shouldn't have expected less; the Pallid would do anything to avoid a confrontation, and his opposite knew it. He stared back at the Girafarig, like two knights meeting on horseback for the pre-battle parley. All things considered, there were less civilized ways for this to go. Not a single piece was out of place as the chess board set itself between them. With a psychic spin of the battlefield, Binair cast a grin down to his adversary, now eyeing the white marble pieces before him.

"Your move, Eoin."

With his hand to his chin, Eoin's mind worked two fold. His claw worked its way along the top of each piece, eventually setting itself on the tip of a pawniard, directly before his king. Eyeing it move forward two spaces, Binair kept a cool poker face.

"Answer me this," Eoin said, a hint of ire sneaking into his own voice. "What possible justification could you possibly have for forcing it to come to this, for keeping beings no less worthy of life than yourself destitute and imprisoned? No doubt they could contribute more to Faire given education. You've all the resources in the world to give them opportunity, and yet you choose not to."

"Going straight for the throat, I see," Binair replied, a psychic aura coalescing around the opposite pawniard to move it one space. "An effective strategy. Well…"

The Girafarig's wine glass floated up to his maw. He took his time taking a sip, savoring each tonality of flavor, though the glass at Eoin's side remained untouched. He eyed the glass as if eyeing a sword above his own head. Binair's brow furrowed at the obvious connotation, his horns again glowing to lift a drop of wine out of the Pallid's own cup. Gulping it down with the rest, Binair returned an exacerbated frown.

Happy?

"I say this in my defense," Binair replied. "Everything I have done, everything I will do, has been for the pokemon of Faire. Before the age of steel and railroads, have you any idea just how much of a population devotes itself to simply having enough grain to survive the next day? Freeing pokemon of that burden, and pouring every last bit of capital into their wellbeing has allowed for an influx of progress that even the highest civilizations can scarcely rival."

"That you have benefited most from," Eoin countered, his tail inflaming. "For all that progress, it seems Faire has learned little. The anger your imprisonment has caused will do far more to disrupt the lives of Faire's pokemon than whatever change was saved keeping us in line. It already has."

Eoin's move was decise, moving the pawn before his queen to stand beside its kingly counterpart. Even as he took a sip of the wine, the Pallid could not help but notice Binair's grip around his own glass changing. Ever so faintly, the glass seemed to vibrate in its psychic clutches, as if against a Loudred's shout.

"It would have been easy to consolidate Faire's wealth infinitely more than its current state," Binair replied. "Some more… laissez-faire policies for factory work hours, and an executive bonus redistributed from the common man's vacation fund, and I could have watched the pokemon of Pith Town line up for bread from an ivory mansion. Even in the beginning days of the West Faire Guild, however, I knew that path was folly."

A black pawn in the queen's row floated two spaces to challenge Eoin's maneuver. He laid a hoof to the board, slamming it just enough to not discard the pieces.

"Make no mistake, Eoin," Binair continued, his own temper starting to break from the mask. "The beings that I have spent my time in this world helping are not 'somewhat sentient', not 'perhaps sentient', not 'arguably sentient' they are. But…"

All at once, the vigor in Binair's voice seemed to fade away. Eoin's eyes widened, not sure whether his flame was more settled, or wary. It was a different smile that met Eoin, in spite the tension across the board.

"You're different," Binair said. "I never knew quite why until Chimera explained your unique origins. Polite. Passionate. A gentleman in all respects, yet brave enough to organize a movement that challenges decades of planning on my part. I would not have organized this little meeting had I not thought of you as an intellectual, and an equal in this game we're forced to play. It… really is a shame we find ourselves like this. Should the circumstances have been different, I like to think we could have spent many more fine days such as this testing wits across the board."

Of all that Eoin prepared for planning his next move, flattery certainly wasn't it. He could not deny the Girafarig's words were from the heart, yet there was a certain meaning behind the praise that made his flame flicker in all the wrong ways. The Pallid raised his glass, taking a sip as he moved his leftmost knight before his queen; well aged, no doubt, yet a slight feeling of bitterness under the sweet texture.

"As do I," Eoin replied, "but I believe your blandishment is misplaced. I am no different than the thousands that follow. Should this meeting go on a few hours more, I have no doubt you'll see a… different side of me. I can guarantee the pallids yearning for liberty are no less capable of intellect, anger, love, or righteousness than myself. It is simply our privilege fueling any supposed superiority."

Binair didn't even bother with the telekinesis, thrusting his hoof forward to move his own knight. It was an instinctual reaction, challenging the centermost pawn in a maneuver he'd no doubt done hundreds of times before.

"Do you really believe that?" Binair asked. "I can assure you the efforts to educate pallids to our level in days prior ended quite… tragic. I can list off the names of hundreds of innocent pokemon who have been the victim of barbarity exploring mystery dungeons. Just a few hours ago was proof that the inclination for violence inscribed into their being from millennia of defending time gears has not been vanquished. Thousands of pokemon across Faire were left mourning in broken homes from pallid attacks. That is not something so easily forgotten in a populace."

Eoin's own claws began to clench around the armrest. A part of the Pallid wished to strike out against Binair, for condemning the beings of now for the actions of yesterday. For thinking that Piolu's plot was anything but the culmination of anger from the Girafarig's oppression. Yet… another side of his being relented, noticing a tinge of remorse in his voice more than expected. Under the guise of scanning the board, his mind went to work. Chimera had told him of Cerise's plight, of course. Of her unending desire to reverse a death that led to decades of separation in Binair's—

Eoin's eyes shot open, claws nearly breaking the glass in his grasp.

"Because… you're one of them," Eoin replied, a certain sorrow in his tone. "Are you not? If so, all I can offer are condolences. It was an unjust death that took her, but that doesn't deny the capability of pallids to change. To make sure it does not happen again."

There it was. A chink in the knight's armor, a stare past Eoin's shoulders to the forest beyond that held for just a second too long. In the silence, Eoin leaned forward, moving his centermost pawn up to challenge the knight. Something else took to Binair's frown as he stared at the board; for perhaps the first time, he did not know what move to make.

"Let me make one thing clear," Binair seethed. "I am not using her death as an easy excuse. A convenient pathos to make way for hollow righteousness. I could not think of a more reactionary and ill-conceived gesture than using a single tragedy as justification for what you've seen. What I do, I do for the benefit of Faire's pokemon, based on decades of reason and evidence. Nothing more, nothing less."

A faint horn of a steamboat blasted in the distance. Binair glanced back, more than a bit of tension relieved from the interruption. Before Eoin could retort, Binair retreated the knight before his queen, letting out a quick cough.

"I… believe that is all there is to discuss on the matter. The convoy should be ready by now. You'll find the foremost guard station awaiting your revolutionaries, as well as a captain by the name of Wendy. Care to finish our game?"

Eoin took a deep breath, eyeing the sun just beginning its ascent. There were plenty of hours left in the day, sure. However, between risking his life leading a revolution, and locking himself against Binair in a game of chess, the Pallid could honestly not decide which was more stressful.

"Another time," Eoin replied, standing up from the chair. "Should everything go to plan, we'll have many more opportunities to finish this game. And..."

His eyes widened, the thought hitting how what was most important had been swept away in the last tumultuous hours.

"I-is… is Cerise—"

"Not her best state, but in good health," Binair replied. "In no small part to your efforts. It seems we've both had a lot to consider from the incident. Before you depart, Eoin, I'd like to offer a final injunction."

Like clockwork, the chess set, table, and glasses between them floated off to the side, leaving only open air between Charmander and Girafarig. Binair stood tall on his hoofs against Eoin, casting a shadow over the Pallid. Replacing any anger in his visage was something more solemn, a knowledge of a truth that, while distasteful, stood firm nonetheless.

"There's a reason I did not go through the effort of trapping you, Eoin," Binair said, "nor machinated a scheme to ensnare your followers on the route to Pith Town. It is simply because I did not have to. The pokemon you turn to for support, the ones expected to stick their necks out against the status quo enjoy three bedroom houses and regular trips to their favorite restaurant. They work nine-to-five factory jobs, with secure pensions and families that look forward to seeing their face at the end of each day."

Binair stepped forward, his long neck silhouetted against the clouds. His hoof bumped against the two glasses, spilling their red wine to the shifting sand.

"In short, Eoin, they have too much to lose. The hoi polloi would much rather stay at home than endanger their lives, all for the sake of pallids they have never even seen. You have my word I'll do everything in my power to ensure no blood is spilt, but if you continue down this path…"

"I've heard much the same," Eoin replied, neither voice nor stance wavering an inch. "Perhaps you are right, perhaps not, but if the pallids of Faire must suffer because the privileged that could have helped stood by, I will go down knowing neither I, nor those beside me joined them."

The palm trees rustled in the wind, while a rough wave crashed against the shore. It chilled the feet of Charmander and Girafarig alike, remaking the sand surrounding. Putting on his best smile, Binair turned to the port.

"I guess we should both be off then. Time waits for no man."
 
Please note: The thread is from 4 years ago.
Please take the age of this thread into consideration in writing your reply. Depending on what exactly you wanted to say, you may want to consider if it would be better to post a new thread instead.

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