Chapter 45

  Dead End

  Thunderous hoof stomps against a rocky landscape became muffled as the terrain gradually shifted to a sea of sprawling, grassy hills. The two Mudsdale enduring this trek pushed themselves to their physical limits - just another day in their minds.

  Monferno gripped the reins of his Mudsdale tight. Thoughts swirling in his mind were just as fast and fleeting as the sights around him. But everything around him was familiar, and that meant one thing.

  They were almost home.

  "You recognize that windmill in the distance, Braix?" he yelled. "We're almost there!"

  All he got was silence in response and all he got this entire trip. It made the pit in his stomach churn and worsen.

  'What the fuck did I do?' he thought, biting his lip. 'But I did the right thing. Did I? It's suicide what Roark and Scizor wanted, and I saved her from it. I saved us both from whatever the hell commitment they wanted to pull us into.' He kept himself from looking back, eyes boring ahead. 'We're almost home, and then… we can figure shit out.'

  That was all he hoped.

  Galloping over another hill, the Mudsdale followed a narrow trail until they could see it - the town of Softwind. He patted the side of the muscular Ground-type, jabbing a finger at a cluster of stalls close to the town's entrance.

  "Take us over there and we'll get off!"

  The equines heeded his order and slowed their pace to a gentle trot. They cloaked themselves in the tall bushes and inky shadows of buildings as they came to a stop near the empty stalls.

  Monferno checked their surroundings for signs of other Pokemon before letting out a sigh of relief. "I think we're good." He looked behind him. "We're good, Braix." Silence again. It was irritating him. He grimaced and leaped off his Mudsdale, giving it a pat on the back. "You think you guys could stay a while? Like an extra day in case something goes wrong?"

  The Mudsdale shared a look before snorting in apparent confirmation.

  Monferno let out another relieved sigh. "Great… Just great." He walked over to the other Mudsdale as Braixen still held the reins deathly tight, her paws shaking as she stared ahead blankly. He placed a hand atop her paws, ceasing their quivering. "Braix, we're here. We're safe, all right?"

  Braixen sniffled, her teary eyes finding his own. "A-are we?"

  Her shaky yet simple question sent shockwaves throughout his mind. Were they? All it took were a couple of goody two shoes, and some Council guards, and they were back in a cell with a worse fate than before.

  He frowned, lifting her paws to his chest. "We're home, aren't we? Now we can- you can tell your parents that you're safe." He reached out to grab her waist, lifting her off the saddle and delicately placing her on the ground.

  She stumbled into him in a messy hug of frayed fur and fresh tears that stained his shoulders. "Did we do the r-right thing, Mony?" she choked out.

  His heart lurched in his chest. "I… Yeah, we did." His arms wrapped around her waist as he pulled her close. "We're gonna be safe here - I promise that."

  Could he?

  Braixen dried her cheeks, breaking the hug and stumbling back. She looked around in a daze. "… It's been so long since I've- since we've been in Softwind."

  "Three years, actually," he said. "Ever since we, uh, made our exploration team official."

  He made a vow to never return here ever since then, but life had a funny way of throwing wrenches into his plans. Seeing the idyllic, wooden cottages and fields of slow-moving windmills made his stomach churn with discontent. He did not want to be here - far from it, in fact.

  But he was doing this for her, and that was something he could stomach.

  Monferno grasped one of her paws and tugged it, guiding her to the cobblestone roads. "C'mon, let's go home. Your mom and dad must be worried sick - that's for damn sure."

  "But what if anyone sees us?" she whispered. "We're wanted by the Council!"

  "It's the dead of the night, Braix - nobody's gonna be out. You remember those days we snuck out after dark to hang out?"

  "I… I do."

  Her remembering something from their past seemed to bring minor relief to her mood. He liked seeing that.

  "So then you know we'll be just fine. And if some idiot does notice us, we'll… I'll figure something out, all right?"

  "Okay…"

  'Good one, jackass,' he scolded himself. 'Bet she really feels safe now, huh?' Biting his tongue, he tried to push away these nagging thoughts to no avail.

  They made their way down the road and into the heart of Softwind. Just as he thought, it was a total ghost town. The market stalls were empty, some of the shop owners were sound asleep in their colorful tents or passed out on the counters themselves. A cool breeze sailed through chimes hanging from porches, the melodious jingling muffling their quiet footsteps.

  He knew the route to her home by heart, being one of the only places he ever cared to go to in his youth. It was on the richer side of town, just one of the many luxurious homes that dotted the hills. Along the way, Braixen felt the need to grasp his hand and hold it. His head swiveled around to scan for a threat, but there was none, and he understood immediately.

  'She wants to feel secure with you, and you're just gonna dump her off…'

  Monferno gritted his teeth, clutching her paw and pressing on. He could see Braixen's family home in the distance. With its dark red colors and almost oppressive, tall architecture, it was a mansion compared to what he once lived in. He rounded a stone fountain of a surfacing Dewgong and hustled up the steps leading to the red-stained double doors.

  His heart thumped in his chest. This is where he was going to say goodbye, and Braixen did not even know.

  "All right, Braix, you should uh, head inside," he said, keeping his voice to a low whisper. "Bet mom and dad are worried sick, huh?"

  Braixen squeezed his hand. "You're coming in too, right?"

  "Nah, your dad wouldn't wanna see me with you. And also… there's, uh, something I gotta do first."

  She formed a look of understanding. "Your mother…"

  He frowned. "Yeah. She and I have some catching up to do." He laid a hand on her shoulder." And look, we'll meet back up in the morning. So get some rest for now, and we'll figure out what to do in the morning, all right?"

  She sniffled, fending off another round of tears. "Okay… Good night, Mony. Be safe; we're wanted, r-remember."

  "I know. Night, Braix."

  Shooting her a reassuring grin and sliding his hand off her, he descended the steps and headed down the quiet streets again. He looked back momentarily to see Braixen reluctantly knock on the entrance to her home.

  It was only dawning on him now that this would be the last time he would see her.

  'Don't you fucking look, you bastard - just keep moving.' He gritted his teeth and forced himself to rip his attention away from the house. 'And you still didn't have the guts to tell her the truth that you're running away.'

  This was for the best, he told himself. And he needed to do this not just for himself, but for them both. Now there was only one other Pokemon to see for the final time.

  Journeying down a chipped cobblestone road, the homes of this rundown neighborhood were plenty familiar to him. One house in particular called to him as he walked toward it. It was derelict and looked almost abandoned. As if the owner wanted no one to think someone lived there.

  But someone did, and he sometimes wished she did not.

  Stepping onto the home's rickety porch, memories he tried to suppress sprouted up in his mind. This house - his 'home' - was nothing but pain to him. Even now his chest swelled up with anxiety as he neared the door, just as it had in his youth.

  When the door opened, there was always something he failed at, something about him that was just wrong.

  His hand hovered over the door handle, debating whether to knock or simply shove his way inside. Instead, he walked over to the window beside the door and peered in through a corner not blocked by blinds.

  He could see her on the couch, illuminated by glimpses of moonlight. The Floatzel was sound asleep beneath a layer of blankets. Her serene expression betrayed the rottenness he knew lurked inside this woman. The same bitterness and lack of empathy she exuded that funneled straight into him.

  Her own child.

  But as he stared at her sleeping form, she seemed at peace. Maybe she had no clue what her son had embroiled himself in; she was always a hermit.

  He stepped back from the window. Whether it was out of cowardice or simply avoiding a pointless argument again, he decided now was the time to walk. As he put his back to his home and mother, intrusive thoughts pursued him.

  'Too scared to tell your own partner and only friend, too scared to confront mom. Maybe you really are a fuckup waste of space like she says.'

  He held a small amount of hope his mother would take his absence from her life as a way to be better. If that was the only use he ever provided to her, then so be it.

  Monferno wandered to the outskirts of Softwind, feeling lightheaded. His feet trudged against the stones, almost unwilling to move.

  Coming to terms with leaving everything behind was going to be hard, he knew. Instead of putting all his thoughts on his new future, they were elsewhere - scattered. Before he could leave the town proper, he spun on his heels and turned around, only one destination in his mind.

  "One shot. That's it," he told himself.

  There was one place in Softwind he knew would be open at this time of night. Nestled in an alleyway was a little bar. A flickering lantern was visible in one of its windows - a sign that it was open. He wrapped his hand around the door handle. This time he was sure he could enter and exit with a clear mind intact.

  One visit and one shot was all he needed.

  The jingling of chimes resounded above the doorway as he entered the dimly lit, cramped establishment. A quick glance at the bar counter showed that no customer besides him was present - just how he liked it.

  An Ursaring with a pencil wedged between its tiny ears was dutifully cleaning a mug. It perked an eyebrow at his entrance, a small smile forming on its face. "Monferno… It's always a pleasure," he said.

  "How's it going, Ursaring?"

  A tough exterior with a soft inside was how he would describe the hulking Normal-type. Despite how pathetic it sounded, this bartender was his only other friend in Softwind besides Braixen. But it was no more of a friendship as it was a place to vent, to wind down after visits with his mother.

  "I was just about to close up shop, but I can spare some time for you. Not often you come 'round anymore."

  Monferno took a seat on a stool, crossing his arms over the marble bar top. "I appreciate it. Gonna need something extra strong today."

  "Ah, I got something for that." Ursaring turned to reach into a cabinet of exotic-looking liquors. He pulled out a fiery red-hued bottle and gave it a shake. "Something only brewed in the Blaze Continent that they call 'Volcarona Spit'. Interested?"

  Monferno shrugged. "As long as it's not actual bug spit. I've seen enough of that at the guild."

  Ursaring chuckled heartily as he twisted open the bottle and poured it into a large shot glass. He slid it over to Monferno, who stopped it in its tracks with an open palm. The Fire-type gave it a curious sniff before downing it entirely, a small twitch breaking his listless gaze forward.

  "S'all right," Monferno commented. "Not much of a kick to it."

  His glass clinked as Ursaring poured him another shot. "You Fire-types… Always gotta mention your spice tolerance."

  Monferno stared at the fiery liquid that returned to his empty glass. He came for one shot and one shot only. He downed liquour one more time. He already betrayed his senses previous times today, so why not one more?

  Another few rounds passed as he watched Ursaring clean up his bar. There was another reason he was here, and he figured now was the proper time to pop the question.

  "So… I heard you're able to hook me up with a passport to another continent for cheap," Monferno said.

  Ursaring looked up from a glass he was wiping down. "Didn't know you were interested in my side business."

  "Guess things have changed, and I'm sure you read the Celestic Cognizance."

  The bear nodded. "I know you aren't a criminal, Monferno. Not any more than my usual customers - no offense."

  "Heh, none taken."

  "You sure this is something you want?"

  "Pretty damn sure."

  "Well, I know an Octillery by the harbors west of here. He's willing to do it at half the price of a usual trip - any continent. I recommend the Grass Continent; used to have a bar out there just like this one."

  "Grass Continent, huh?" He mulled it over in his head. "I could see that…"

  "Any plans for future employment?"

  "Carpentry, I guess. I, uh, always was interested in it. Might as well learn a skill and get some use out of these opposable thumbs."

  "That's a start. You know… Your father once came to me about the same thing."

  Monferno let out a derisive snort. Who did he think he was talking to? "How'd you think I knew about this whole gig of yours? My deadbeat dad, of course."

  "Fair enough." Ursaring went to pour him another shot but a raised hand stopped him.

  "That's as far as I'll go." Now thoroughly experiencing the buzz he sought out, a wave of nostalgia swept over him. "You weren't around then, Ursaring, but my dad used to take me to this bar when I was real young - like five or six."

  The bear's eyes grew wide. "Didn't bring you here for a drink, I hope?"

  Monferno chuckled. "Father of the year, right? Anyway…" He squinted at the far corner of the bar. "He used to tell me to sit right there - in that corner - and shut up while he hung out with his friends here. Almost every week when mom told- no, demanded that he spend time with me."

  "Infernape was quite the character when I recall him."

  "He was quite a piece of shit," Monferno remarked humorously. "Hope he's dead - wherever he ran off to."

  Ursaring stared at him in a mix of unease and sympathy - the kind he hated. But he could not hold it against him. The Normal-type's stare then shifted to the Cosmic Scarf wrapped around his neck; his look turned into recognition. "Your fox friend, where is she at?"

  "Braixen? She's here, too - what about her?"

  "You're her partner in an exploration team, aren't you? If the Council is hunting you down, they'd be hunting her down as well."

  Monferno shook his head. "Her father used to be a famous dancer and is a powerful guy with connections. One wave of his flipper and the Council's toy soldiers will back off. But me? Hell, I wasn't much in the guild, and I'd doubt they'd send the calvary after some nobody."

  "Does she know you're leaving?"

  Monferno bit his tongue, staring into the empty glass' reflection of himself - warped - just like he felt inside. "Yeah, she knows. It's really been a long time coming, and now she doesn't have to drag me behind her. It's… It's hard, but I think it's for the best."

  'You just had to lie to others like you lie to yourself. You spineless fucking coward.'

  "And she sees it that way? That you're a drag on her?"

  He was ready to shoot out a quick response but it died in his throat. His mouth parted as he searched for reasoning. "She wouldn't say that, but I know it because I see it. She sees something else in me, though, which is why she's stuck around all this time."

  Ursaring leaned over the counter. "What does she see?"

  "Fuck if I know. I just- I'm tired of prolonging this. I planned this even before this damn disaster that's happened. But the problem is…" He struggled to find his next words. "I don't even know if this is the right move, but I feel like I have to."

  "Like you're forced to."

  "Yeah, yeah…" Monferno swept both hands across his fatigued face. "I don't think I can stand one more minute on this continent. It just feels… like I don't belong, and everyone's laughing behind my back about it." He let out a strained laugh. "Guess that happens when you're told how worthless you are your whole damn life."

  'And mom was right.' A stinging reminder that permeated his thoughts.

  "So it's not just the Council you're running from," Ursaring said as he crossed his arms. "There's something else eating at you. And you're leaving your partner high and dry because of it."

  "Yeah, sure - what are you - a fucking therapist now?" Monferno chided. "I'm a piece of shit who abandons his friends. There - I said it-" There was a sudden jolt as an epiphany brought his mind to a screeching halt. "Oh fucking Arceus… I'm just like dad."

  Ursaring nodded slowly. "I was wondering when you were gonna make the connection."

  Like being doused by sobering, chilling water that rained down on his plans. Perhaps he should have stayed with just one drink and avoided thinking about his actions like usual.

  Monferno shook his head. "I guess like father, like son, huh? Two pieces of trash following our own footsteps."

  "I think you're being too hard on yourself. Your father may have left for his own selfish reasons, but you seem to think this is your only way out."

  "And you're saying it isn't?"

  "I'm not going to tell you what to do, Monferno because that's ultimately up to you. You just gotta understand that right now might be the most important decision of your life."

  Every fiber in his being was telling him to cut his losses and start over anew. Even the abusive thoughts he endured agreed with this sentiment.

  So why was it so difficult to pull the trigger? The answer was staring him in the face as he peered into a mirror of himself.

  'Braixen. It's 'cause of her, you fucking idiot.'

  The one relationship he did not toss away, and he was going to throw it away. He had already almost lost her in the Grit Region, and he was going to lose her for good now.

  'I'm really gonna do this, am I? This is the wrong fucking move - I know it - but what else is there for me?'

  "… I don't know how to be happy, Ursaring. I don't know if giving this ride another shot is going to suddenly make me happy."

  Ursaring shrugged. "You can always just try."

  Try. It seemed so simple, yet felt monumental to him. Had he not been trying this entire time to make something of himself?

  'But if I still could try something, I can at least be a good friend for once in my damn life.'

  Monferno suddenly stood up. "Looks like I won't be paying off that tab yet, Ursaring." He pushed his shot glass across the counter. "Thanks for the drink, and the advice."

  Ursaring smirked as he moved to clean the glass. "Any time, Monferno."

  'Maybe I still have a chance to prove I'm worth a damn to anyone.'

  Angelic chimes resounded above him as he took in the particular scent of this fateful night that only became known just now. The purplish hues and dark greens appeared more vivid than before, and he took it as a sign.

  'Or I could leave this all behind and start over…'

  The door slammed shut behind him.

  Braixen fidgeted where she stood, occasionally throwing glances behind her to see Monferno heading down the streets.

  'Mony acts like we're not wanted outlaws…' Her bushy tail bristled at his carelessness. 'He has to be careful! Or we'll both be caught.'

  She knew full well that being arrested by the Council again would spell even further ruin for them both. Softwind was not a particularly important town, but they were being hunted down surely. It was only a matter of time before the guards in brown coats showed up to chase them out.

  The events of just a few hours ago replayed in her mind. Why did she acquiesce so quickly to Monferno's request that they would go home instead of sticking with the guild? She thought herself smarter than this, but here she was, and it was because of one reason that crumbled her facade.

  She was scared. Homesick - more so.

  Braixen gave another wrapt knock upon the double doors in the vain hopes it was heard. Her silent prayers would be answered as she heard muffled footsteps from within. When the doors finally swung open, she was met with the stern visage of a tired-looking Carracosta.

  Her father's demeanor quickly morphed into shock as he stared at her. "… Braixen, you're-"

  "I'm home, dad," she said softly, sniffling. "It's b-been a long time, I know." She moved to hug him, but he stopped her advances with a flipper.

  "You shouldn't be here."

  "W-what?"

  Carracosta sighed, shaking his head. "I've seen the news in the papers. You were arrested along with the rest of the guild, and I'm quite certain they did not let you leave of their own volition."

  Braixen laced her paws together and bowed her head. She expected a scolding from her father, but there was barely any relief on his face before it turned to disapproval. "I… I know," she said. "W-we did escape, and-"

  He raised a flipper again. "I don't want to know. Whatever it was, it was incredibly foolish and it will serve nothing but to worsen this already dire and terrible situation for our family."

  "But we didn't do anything to warrant this!"

  "I know. I know you did not get involved in such heinous acts. But a young lady such as yourself should have realized we would have fought for your freedom - but not like this."

  Her shoulders slackened. "… I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking at the time, and it all happened so fast." She looked up, fearing his next response. "Are you… not happy I'm here?"

  "My dearest daughter…" Carracosta laid a supporting flipper on her slumped shoulders. "I am elated to see you after that horrific event in Empyrean. For two years, all your mother and I had to witness of you were your letters. But as much as I am happy you are alive and well, I am very disappointed."

  "I'm sorry," she repeated. "… Are you going to tell the Council that I'm here."

  He shook his head. "Of course not. But you're old enough to know what's right. Please, do the responsible thing and turn yourself in without a fuss. I promise this will all get resolved in time. Now come inside, dear."

  Braixen obeyed her father and stepped inside the house. The cold of the outside was excised with the shut of the doors behind her. She felt safe now, even if it was just an illusion, and just for today. But it felt worth it to be secure in her mind.

  "Your fur is filthy and ragged, my daughter and your eyes are puffy and sunken. Please, use the shower here and rest well for tonight. Clear your head, young lady."

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "I will, dad. Thank you for taking me in tonight."

  Carracosta grunted. "We're going to have a longer discussion about this in the morning." He turned to point at a staircase. "Your mother is still awake; you should let her know you are here and safe."

  "O-okay."

  Her father let out another disgruntled sigh before he lumbered away, disappearing into another room of the pitch-black house. She remained still for a moment, gathering her bearings.

  Her father was disappointed in her, but she knew that already before she returned home.

  Sniffling and drying her tear-stained cheeks, she slowly navigated her way through the dark to the staircase. Her paws ran across the red finish of the guardrail as the wooden steps creaked beneath her ascent. Her old home seemed to sway and groan with each howl of unseen wind that passed through, like the house was living and breathing.

  As she traversed the mute halls, lanterns of flickering orange light illuminated several paintings adorning the walls. She side-eyed them as she pressed on, many of them depicting her mother and her father entangled in dance together. The further she went, the more the paintings became glimpses into the lives of her ancestors who also called this home theirs.

  She never liked walking through here, feeling as if their presence was looming over her, making sure she never strayed off the path of success.

  Her ears picked up the sound of a crackling fire, and she knew instantly where her mother was. She could see a glowing light through the crack of an ajar door to the study. The red-hot flames of the fireplace danced across her weary eyes as she stared into the room. A long black couch was positioned in front of the fireplace atop a plush red carpet; an obscured figure was resting on it.

  As she pushed the door open with a barely noticeable squeal, two large, furry ears belonging to a Delphox jutted out from the couch and swiveled in her direction.

  "Dear?" a dulcet voice said. "Is that you?"

  Braixen's heart soared when she heard her voice. Going so long without it, she felt more at ease. The temperature surged as she carefully stepped inside, being hit with a wave of warm, comforting air.

  "No, mom… It's me - Braixen."

  She rounded the coach, now standing in front of her mother. Delphox gently placed down her book of bumpy symbols, her milky white eyes searching around for the physical manifestation of her daughter's voice. Her shaky paws rose to feel the air. "Braixen… Where are you?"

  Braixen grasped her paws tight and guided them toward her chest, allowing her mother to feel her presence. "I'm here, mom. I'm right here."

  A gasp escaped her mother as tears began flowing from cloudy eyes that stared past her, yet still saw her. "M-my beloved daughter, you're safe…"

  Braixen shed her own tears as she stepped forward to embrace the trembling woman. Her muzzle was pushed deep into her thick fur. She smelled of roses and earthy spices, like home. She reluctantly pulled away, finally able to smile after so long.

  "Your father and I were so worried," Delphox said. "With the attacks and the Council, but you know all of that, sweetheart."

  "I do. It's been… so rough." Braixen felt herself close to breaking down again, but she refused to do so in front of her mother. "I-I don't have a guild anymore, mom. Nurse Hatterene w-was a victim in the attack, the Council came after us, and-"

  "Shh, shh, it's okay," Delphox consoled. "Your sweet friend - Monferno. Did he accompany you here?"

  "Yes. He helped me- us escape from the Council."

  A frown played upon Delphox's muzzle. "I won't chastise you as your father might have. You're a smart girl; you'll figure a way out of this."

  She wished she could agree with her mother's sentiments, but it all felt so hopeless. All she wanted to do now was stay with her family, and not worry about the world or her position in it, but it was on borrowed time.

  If so, she wanted to prolong this moment as much as she could.

  "D-do you mind if I turn on some music, mom?"

  "Not at all. That sounds lovely, dear.."

  Braixen walked over to a shelf of various dusty tomes where a peculiar device made of bronze and copper rested. A needle connected to an arm that hung over a thin, black plastic disc held in place. One of the latest advances in technology only some of the richest families across Celestic could own.

  She took the needle's arm and pushed it down to meet the intricate grooves of the disc held in place. Mere seconds later, a pleasant symphony of harmonizing instruments poured from a tubular speaker of the device.

  Delphox's mouth parted. "Oh my… I remember this tune as if it was yesterday." She looked up in thought. "I… I can hear the sounds from the crowd, I can smell the wood of the stage. By Arceus, I felt so alive."

  Braixen returned to her mother's side and took her paws again. "Would you like to dance?"

  "I… I don't know, dear."

  "Come on, I'll help you."

  "Okay."

  She assisted her mother in standing up, moving her to a section of the study with no obstructions in the way.

  "Just follow my lead, mom. Pretend that I'm dad, okay?"

  "I shall try, dear."

  For this one brief moment, she was not a nurse in training. She was a daughter following in the footsteps of her mother to be a great and world-renowned dancer just like her. It was a world where her father was finally proud, where she felt satisfied, where opportunity did not feel squandered.

  But it was a world she could only step into for just this one moment.

  Her paws glided across the scarlet carpet, her mother struggling to match and keep up. They were locked in a slow dance, the only crowd being the thrum of scratchy background music.

  She attempted a dip maneuver, and Delphox nearly faltered and fell over before quickly recovering. It tore her up inside to see a once legendary icon struggle so much. But her mother's joy never seemed to wane, like she was stepping back into a world herself - one that she did not have to leave.

  "I'm sorry, dear. It's become so hard for me."

  "I know, mom. You can't see, but I'm not so good myself either."

  Delphox shook her head. "I don't need to see. I can feel your movements, can hear your footwork. You're a lot like I was back then."

  Braixen looked away. "I wanted to dance… Just like you and dad. I wanted to be famous like you both. You all invested so much time training me, teaching me, and then you got sick, and I-" A paw pressed against her mouth.

  "You wanted to help me, dear. But you couldn't fix me."

  "I-I couldn't."

  And it still ate away at her conscience. She thought joining the guild as Hatterene's apprentice would help her understand, but it only pushed her away from her dreams.

  "But even when you couldn't fix me, you fixed others." Delphox twisted her body and made Braixen follow her lead as she took long strides across the room. "You wanted to heal them, to not entertain but to take away pain. How could we be against something like that?"

  "But Dad-"

  "Your father is not the master of your life, nor am I. He sees the spitting image of me in you dancing in a frivolous cage, but I see something more in you, dear."

  "Like what?"

  "A young woman that sees beyond the values of prestige. You have a gift you can show the world, and that's not something you can do on just a stage."

  They swayed together in synchrony, and as the music began to fade, so did their dance. More tears dripped from Braixen's eyes as she buried her muzzle into Delphox's shoulder and sobbed.

  "I-I don't know what to do, mom!"

  "I know you do, dear. You just don't know it yet."

  Did she?

  It seemed so hard to view a bright future past this dead end that was this present. But surrounded by the warmth and love that her mother exuded, anything felt possible. She sniffled, hugging Delphox again as hard as she could.

  "Thank you, mom - for everything."

  "No. Thank you, dear - for doing the right thing, which I know you will."

  She hoped.

  Delphox then began humming, cooing a pleasant song into her ear that brought her straight back to her childhood. It was a wordless way to exchange hope, and she listened as long as she would sing it.

  Red petals drifted through the cloudless skies filled with the sounds of joyous laughter and whipped winds carried from the picturesque mountains that surrounded the village.

  Shaymin blinked.

  Surely she was not still dreaming, and the very place she was standing in was not the Shaymin Village. It could not be, after all she did to get away from this vile place.

  'Oh fuck no… All right, Arceus, you drongo, what bloody mess did you drag me to now?'

  The first thought coursing through her mind was to find a Gracidea flower, transform into her Sky Form, and immediately leave the village before she was recognized. But she needed information first as to why she was here in the first place.

  'Charizard… the big guy and I took on Yveltal, but I must've gotten knocked out of the sky. It felt like I was gonna…'

  Like she was going to die. The same way she felt when the Rose Clan kept her as a prisoner.

  'This can't be the afterlife, 'cause my dream place would be a pub and not this dump.'

  Leaving her cottage, she started down a path leading to the village's field lands. Strangely, none of the Shaymin tending to the berry and Gracidea farms were present.

  'This isn't right. Somethin' is goin' on.'

  Soaring shadows that flew past her delivered the answers she was seeking. Multiple Shaymin were gathered at the far side of the fields, obscuring a figure they encircled. Her interest peaked, she picked up the pace and made her way over to the congregation.

  'Better be an explanation at this little meetin'.'

  As she stomped her way over, she locked eyes with the Pokemon of interest, a rather tall Reshiram wearing a large saddlebag that matched its alabaster fur. The Legendary stared at her briefly before turning its attention back to the crowd.

  "All right, everyone, I understand you're concerned!" it spoke in a decidedly feminine and chipper tone. "But the rest of us are just as confused and caught off guard as all of you."

  Grinding her teeth at the thought of dealing with another Legendary, Shaymin spun around and headed in the opposite direction. But the sound of flapping wings and a large thud beside put an end to her swift exit.

  "Hey, wait up Shaymin! I recognize that chipped ear!" Reshiram said, pointing a wing claw at her.

  "Uh, I know you from somewhere, mate?"

  "You're the one from Empyrean, right? You fought Yveltal - bravely from what I've heard." Before Shaymin could respond, another voice intruded on their conversation.

  "Wooooah, you're saying Fury fought Yveltal?"

  Shaymin growled under her breath as she saw a group of three detach from the crowd and walk over. Joy, Brash, and Careful - names given to them based on their personalities. Brash, the one she despised most, seemed to think of her as a friend in their group.

  She was anything but.

  "My name's not Fury," Shaymin said.

  Reshiram glanced at the group of variably sized Shaymin. "Fury? Why is she called that?"

  "Don't encourage them."

  "It's 'cause she's so rude and nasty to visitors!" Joy chimed in, her voice grating as ever. "Especially other Legendaries. One time a visiting Victini wanted to soar with us, and asked Fury here for a ride. She screamed at him so loud Ho-Oh could hear it!"

  Shaymin felt her eyes twitch in barely restrained anger. Her desire to tackle the loudmouth was taken away from her as Brash moved in front of Joy.

  "Shush, mate," he said. "Fury here was just about to tell us the excitin' deets on her fightin' Yveltal."

  Shaymin rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I fought that big birdbrain in Empyrean. Wasn't such a tough, hotshot Legend, I'd say." She sniffed. "Couple Seed Flares in and he was cryin' for Arceus to help him."

  Her retelling of events brought in cheers and tiny applause from the other Shaymin present as she felt a surge of pride within her. Sure, it was an exaggeration, but they did not need to know that.

  Reshiram squinted her eyes at her. "Really now? I heard you were knocked out by Yveltal."

  "Lucky shot; he used some freaky spear attack. And how do you know so much about me, anyway?"

  "A group of Empyrean citizens found you unconscious on the streets. They carried you to safety and healed you, and one of them luckily knew I was in the area. They contacted me and I brought you back here."

  'So that's how I'm back here suddenly… This sheila brought me.'

  She was not sure if she should be thankful for this Legendary or be angry for bringing her to the Shaymin Village. Gratefulness, however, was not something she was known for, according to Leafeon.

  'She doesn't know my past. It's not her fault, even if she's a Legendary.'

  "I guess, uh, thanks, mate," she responded flatly.

  Reshiram smiled. "I'm just happy to help a Shaymin get back to her village. Helping lost Legends is usually my duty most of the time, anyway."

  "But Yveltal…" Careful mumbled. "Nobody defeated him. That means he's still out there, right? Don't you think he could come here and destroy the village like he did that city?"

  Hushed murmurs and concerned whispers spread like wildfire among the Shaymin. But all of this dissent was quelled by a large flap of Reshiram's wings.

  "Everyone! Yveltal hasn't been spotted at all around the Grass Continent or the Legend's Apex Crest. And I'm sure that Celestic's government is working hard to stop it."

  Brash scoffed. "Isn't Yveltal supposed to be six feet under, anyhow. How's he kickin' and makin' bloody trouble for us now?"

  "I'm not sure. But I'm positive Ho-Oh and the other Legendaries are working on a theory and a reason for his appearance."

  Shaymin's head was spinning. 'So Yveltal is still around? That means Charizard and I couldn't stop him, but that also means…'

  Her heart sank as she feared the worst.

  "Hey, Reshiram," she spoke softly. "That group who saved me. Were any of them part of some guild?"

  Reshiram shook her head. "No. Just some very helpful Pokemon."

  Shaymin felt her throat becoming dry as she slowly backed away before bolting down the main trail of the village. She made a beeline toward her parent's cottage, struggling to open the door in her pitiful Land Form. She eventually managed to get inside, heading into her bedroom from earlier.

  'Maybe my stuff's here, and that ELE thingamajig is here, and I can reach Leafy or the Guildmaster.'

  Hanging from a hook on the wall was her green saddlebag, which she snatched. She opened up all its zippers and dumped its contents onto her now messy bed. She quickly spotted the Minun-shaped device and twisted its dials to the corresponding call numbers she was given.

  It took her a while to remember them, revealing to her how little she used her ELE.

  Finally finding the right channel, she flicked the switch on the device's side and spoke into its speakers. "Guildmaster! Guildmaster - you there, mate?" She waited for a tense moment."… Is anyone there? It's Shaymin!"

  Getting nothing but silence, she feared the worst, until she heard harsh static and a voice "…Shaymin? …It's Scizor." His voice was badly distorted by static but familiar.

  She found momentary relief. "Scizor! Never thought I'd fuckin' love to hear your voice, mate!"

  "… It's good to hear… you're well, connection-" his voice cut off. "-bad. Are you… far away… Celestic?"

  "I'm at the Shaymin Village - far end of the Grass Continent. You're gonna have to tell that little Minun kid to strengthen the signals of these hunks of junk."

  There was a long pause. "Shaymin… A lot has… Empyrean was destroyed, and-"

  "Save me all the juicy details for when I get back. Could you give your ELE to Leafeon for a quick sec? Couldn't reach her line."

  Another agonizing pause. "Shaymin…Leafeon-" static overcame his voice "-victim."

  "Victim? What are you talkin' about?"

  "She was… petrified, along… other members of… guild."

  The ELE slipped from her grasp, falling onto the floor. His words bounced around in her head as the gravity of the situation settled in. Her only true friend in this world and the only Pokemon that understood her was gone.

  Scizor continued his spiel, unbeknownst to her shock. "Roark… rest of the guild… rendezvousing… new location far west… Meadow Region. Shaymin, we need you-"

  Shaymin screamed.

  She kicked the ELE into a nearby wall and fired an Energy Ball at it. The next minute was spent tearing apart her room; shelves were toppled, items smashed, and sheets tossed aside. Anything and everything within her sight was to be a victim of her uncontrollable rage.

  When she finally settled down and slumped against the walls of her destroyed bedroom, only then did the tears start to flow. She did not know how long she sat there crying, as time seemed to stop around her.

  Years of planning to leave the Shaymin Village, years of learning to befriend anyone in Celestic. Now she was back at square one, like nothing changed at all. She was still a rude, ungrateful bully to everyone - even herself.

  Eventually, her sobs reduced to gentle breathing as she sat there, staring out her bedroom window. Where did she go from here? The only reason she stayed at the guild was because of Leafeon, and now she was without a teammate in Team Evergreen. Any thought of replacing her with another or returning to Celestic was cast out of her mind instantly. But staying in the Shaymin Village was far from what she desired.

  Before she could lament any further, there was a knock upon the cottage's entrance.

  "Fury- Uh, I mean… Shaymin! We need to talk."

  Hearing Reshiram's voice sent a shiver of rage down her spine; like she needed to be in the presence of another Legendary right now. Stumbling out of her room, she moved to the cottage's front door to speak through the door.

  "G-go away, Reshiram!" Her scratchy voice was ragged and labored.

  "It's important! It's about Yveltal."

  Shaymin seethed as she stared at the floor. "Yeah? What about 'em?"

  "When I said Yveltal hadn't been seen around the Grass Continent, I lied." There was a pregnant pause. "I didn't want to cause a panic in your village."

  Her eyes grew wide. "You mean…"

  "My brother, Zekrom, and I spotted Yveltal and a Lucario riding it off the coasts the other day. And I-" The door opened before she could continue as Shaymin walked off, wiping away angry tears.

  "Why… are you here, then? Take it to that bludger Ho-oh!"

  Reshiram sighed. "Because you've faced Yveltal, and you know how serious of a threat it is. And…" She grew a fierce, determined look. "I want you to help me find Yveltal!"

  "F-find him, mate? Like confront him?"

  "Well... yeah!"

  "And take him down..."

  Reshiram bit her lip, backing up as Shaymin approached slowly. "Well - we could try! But I think it would be best if we..."

  Take Yveltal down.

  Those were the only words that registered in her mind as Reshiram's voice faded away, compounded by the sheer thirst for revenge.

  Shaymin's frown twisted into a vicious smirk. "... Let me touch a Gracidea and we'll go hunt that birdbrain bastard down."

  She awoke to the sounds of rattling chains. Her blurry vision swung back and forth like a dizzy pendulum, oscillating between warm lantern light and cold, cracked stone walls of a pitch-black dungeon. She struggled to move her weak limbs to no avail.

  A hushed, broken down yet familiar voice pierced her hazy perception.

  "Weav's… Are you awake?"

  Weavile wetted her dry lips, her weary eyes shifting to her right to see her comrade upside down and swinging beside her.

  "Bishy…" she croaked. "I thought… you were dead."

  "Not yet, apparently."

  She groaned as she twisted her body to stare upward. Her gaze landed on her feet, a metal lock latched around them as she dangled from the mossy ceiling by a bundle of iron chains. Her arms were also held in place by cuffs, stifling any amount of movement.

  "Do you… remember anything at all of the past few days?"

  Weavile grunted as she picked her brain. "I know that the snake managed to capture us…"

  "Not just her… Our client, too. And he had… Yveltal."

  Her nostrils flared. "What a fucking mess this has been…" She looked around her inverted surroundings for anything that could aid her escape. Rivers of dirty water splitting the ground and rusty swords were just barely out of reach. "This… is bad, Bishy - real fucking bad." Her concerns ended with a sickly cough.

  "I know… But we're not in much shape to do anything."

  That was a sudden squeal and metal scraping noise as an iron door to their cell swung open. Weavile tried to stare at what was beyond the doorway, seeing narrowed red eyes gleaming from a veil of impenetrable darkness.

  "Hey!" Weavile screamed. "If you came to interrogate us, you're not… getting shit from us!"

  There was an echo of footsteps that grew louder each second. Her eyes then bulged out of her head as a Shiny Lucario stepped into the chamber. The swinging lantern hung by a strand of rope briefly illuminated his terrible scowl as he neared.

  "I don't imagine I'll be here long," he said. "And I don't imagine you two will be alive much longer until you tell me where it is."

  Both of them were too stunned to respond, sharing looks that confirmed their memories were not false. This was their old Guildmaster in the flesh; the very same one who roused them with morning speeches, completed job offers for, and went on expeditions with.

  Weavile quickly recovered. "No idea what you're talking about…" she shot back. "Mind… enlightening us, friend?"

  Jackson approached, glaring at her. "Let's not play coy here, and I don't mince words." He crouched, his face was now mere inches from her. "Tell me what I need to know, and you might escape with your lives."

  She laughed softly to herself before spitting at him, nailing him on the cheek.

  He stood, wiping off the remains of her disrespect. She kept a steady eye on him as he began to pace the room, lurking in the shadows and circling them like a predator stalking his prey. "Your headquarters has been reduced to ash, your belongings and wealth pilfered, and your mercenaries gone or now employed under the Rose Clan," he explained. "You have nothing left. Nothing to protect and hold secret. Do you understand why?"

  Weavile hid her bitter hatred for this man behind a smug smirk. "Tell us why, friend."

  "To teach you a lesson. If you had simply done your job as mercenaries, I would not have needed to act."

  "You really are our old Guildmaster…" Bisharp spoke. "I thought it was a coincidence… but it is you. That same grouchy old man we bowed down to." He laughed, which was overtaken by a fit of coughing. "... Bet you're real proud of how we turned out, huh?"

  "Yes… Pawniard and Sneasel." Jackson gave the hint of a smile. "I remember your unlikely friendship. And yet I never expected you two to become such a thorn in my side."

  "Guess we should've graduated early then," Weavile remarked.

  "I suppose I have to hand it to you for continuing the search in the name of your friends even years later, but it was ultimately pointless." The Lucario stopped suddenly, his next words laden with murderous intent. "I'm going to leave this room with a clear answer on its location, or I'll be leaving with two bodies over my shoulders."

  "Ooh, we're real fucking scared, tough guy," Weavile said. "But you know what? Whatever the hell it is that we stole from those poor 'mons you've strung along all this time, it doesn't belong to you or even any Legendary. It belonged… TO ME!" she suddenly screamed, wriggling her body in sheer rage. "IT BELONGS TO TEAM HYDRA AND ONLY TEAM HYDRA!"

  She challenged his uncaring and cool gaze with her own stare of feverous passion. Their silent showdown went on a few moments longer before he crouched again.

  "You want to hear a story?"

  "We're the ones tied up here, aren't we?"

  "Back in the day, before I made my mark on Charleston, I used to have this worker of mine who served under me for years. Let's call him Icarus," Jackson said. "Now Icarus was a good earner; no fuss, no desire to rat me out, got my product across state lines and even internationally. I liked the kid, and he reminded me of myself, so it was no wonder he started climbing the ranks of my organization. Though all that changed in '96…"

  Weavile and Bisharp exchanged bewildered looks but could say nothing as the Lucario continued his story.

  "Found out Icarus was selling secrets and even some of my supply to other arms manufacturers in Texas and Utah. Even conspired a little plot to have me taken out the picture and have his other boss take over." Jackson smirked and scratched his chin in apparent remembrance. "So, one night my men brought him to a safe house so he and I could have a little talk." He crept closer toward the pair, his voice lowering an octave. "And the way he screamed and writhed in his chair, begging for mercy, begging for forgiveness, begging for death until it was all over."

  A dark chuckle filled the dungeon.

  "I bet there's still pieces of Icarus floating down the Mississippi to this day…" Jackson stood again. "But for you two? I'll leave nothing left." His stare lingered on Weavile. "You flew too close to the sun, Icarus. But you still have a chance before all your wings burn up."

  Weavile gritted her teeth. "Kill us and you'll never find your fancy little golden rock ever." She spat at his hind paws.

  "I see you still don't understand, Icarus." Jackson suddenly lurched forward, grabbing Bisharp by his ankles and twisting him forward. He used a free paw to grab Weavile's head and force her to look at her comrade. "I only need one of you alive." He then pressed the spike of his forepaw to Bisharp's throat, pressing forward slightly.

  "BISHARP!" She resisted his grasp around her, spittle spewing from her snarling lips as she thrashed in place. "You're a fucking dead 'mon!"

  "Ready to talk now, Icarus?" Jackson mocked as he increased the pressure.

  Blood now trickled down Bisharp's face as he sneered viciously at the Lucario. "Don't tell him… a fucking thing!" he gurgled out through the blood drowning out his vocal cords.

  Jackson looked back at Weavile. "If seeing your closest friend die before you again isn't enough, there's always more leverage." He leaned closer. "I still have the old guild documents. And I wonder if that family of yours still lives on that same street in Elysium City…"

  She panicked.

  "It's buried!" A long silence followed as she sighed in defeat. "It's buried…"

  "Where?"

  "Out in the forests near our compound. I told my mercs to bury it wherever for now and tell me later where it was. That's where it is."

  The spike in Bisharp's throat was immediately withdrawn as Jackson marched to the door. Before slamming it closed, he offered only parting words.

  "I expect to find it, Icarus. If not, then I'm sure Serperior will think of a suitable method of torture for you both."

  Ragged panting overtook the dungeon in his absence. Weavile groaned as she swiveled her body to look at Bisharp. "Bishy! Are you all right?"

  "F-fine…" he croaked after a tense moment of silence. "Just p-peachy, Weav's. But don't tell me… you actually told him… where it was."

  "Of course not! You think I'm stupid enough to trust my idiots to do that?"

  "Thank you… It'll buy us... " He paused to wheeze." Some time, but we need to-"The sounds of quiet sobbing filled the air. He looked to find her shielding her face from him. "Weav's?"

  Tears slid down her forehead, dripping onto the ground below as she helplessly dangled, bound by her own mistakes. "What the fuck did we do, Bishy?" she cried out. "How- how did everything we do lead to this? We don't have a home or our clan anymore… We fucked up so badly."

  "Weav's…"

  "I did this. I should've listened to you when you warned me about confronting him. It's my fault we've lost it all."

  "Weav's, I know you love to take credit for everything… but I also agreed to it. We- we both played our part in our own undoing. This… might be our last rodeo if I'm being totally honest."

  Weavile smiled through the onslaught of tears. "You sure know how to cheer up a girl, tinman…"

  "Only the truth from me, Weav's. You- you know that."

  "I know. But I'm starting to think this is really it."

  "We don't know yet… But I refuse to give up, and I know you don't want to, either."

  She could not. Despite how dire their situation was, she could not give up and die. If she did, she would drag Serperior and the damned Lucario down with her into the depths.

  Through the long, painful silence of their time in this dreary, hopeless dungeon, that was what kept her sane.

  It did not take him long to find where she was.

  Cool sand was pushed aside by his feet as he stepped across the pit of buried toys. He stood near the entrance of the playground, staring up at the metal statue of Carracosta surrounded by small and glossy metal Pokemon that played around him or swung from his arms.

  For a man who loved children deeply, he sure did not hold any love for him.

  Monferno snorted as he pressed on through the playground. He could see her at the far end of the lot, sitting in a swing set that faced the crescent moon's arm of smoky shadows. Her seat gently rocked back and forth as she held the chains.

  "Having fun?" he called out.

  Braixen jolted and whirled around. "M-mony?"

  "That's my name."

  "How'd you find me?"

  "Had the misfortune of meeting your dad when I knocked on the door this time. Said you left a while ago and didn't know where you went, but I sure did."

  She smiled sadly. "I'm really that predictable?"

  "It's part of your charm, Braix."

  Monferno walked over and plopped himself in the seat opposite to her. "Guessing you talked with them about what's going on?"

  She nodded.

  "And what did they say?"

  "Dad thinks I should turn myself in before it gets worse, and mom thinks I should do whatever I think is best."

  He saw all of this coming. "And what is best, Braix?"

  "I think…" Her paws clutched at her chest. "I think I'm going back to Roark and Gloria. Coming here… I think it only made things worse."

  He had even seen this coming. "It's your choice, Braix. I only thought being home for just a bit would clear your mind. But I'm not exactly known for my amazing plans."

  "I know. But it's not your fault. I also wanted to go home, but this wasn't the right way." She glanced over. "How did your mother feel?"

  "She was, uh, happy to see me alive, I guess."

  What harm was another lie in a sea of so many others?

  "And what about you? Are you… going to come back with me?" she asked, his silence spurring her to continue. "I know you didn't want to risk our lives any longer for the guild, but what other choice do we really have, Mony?"

  She was right. There was no other choice in his mind except to stick by his partner's side to the very end. And to do that, he needed to be finally honest with her.

  "... I think you need to know the truth, Braix. About me, and why I brought you here." Seeing her puzzled expression, he continued. "I made us come here because I was going to run away. I was gonna leave Celestic and… y'know, set up shop somewhere else in the world. Have a whole fresh start to things, where I didn't feel awful, and I wasn't a wanted 'mon."

  "Mony, I-"

  "Please, let me finish." He took a deep breath. "I've wanted to leave even before all of this, during our expedition to the Grit Region. But our Guildmaster sure decided to throw a wrench into those plans, heh."

  She looked immensely hurt by this revelation, and he could not blame her. To realize that your partner is incredibly selfish and would abandon you to make himself feel good.

  'Selfish, useless, coward,' his mind scolded him once more.

  "Why…?" she asked simply.

  "Because you make me feel inadequate."

  "W-what?"

  "Oh c'mon, Braix. You come from a family of famous and well-respected 'mons. You can dance like an expert and you're also a nurse! Everyone in the guild liked you, everyone in Softwind growing up wanted to be your friend! You're amazing, and I'm…" He inhaled deeply and looked down at his swinging feet. "I'm not. I don't like anything about me. I can't think of a single thing about me I like…"

  The gentle creak of the swings filled in the silence that followed.

  "I can think of some things about you that I like," Braixen said. "You're funny, you're confident and passionate, even if it makes you angry. You always looked out for me rather than yourself." She reached over and rested a paw on his hand. "I don't care what anyone says or thinks about you. You're my partner, my friend, and I'll always cherish you."

  "You deserve someone better…" He looked away. "I can't be that friend to you."

  "But you have. When I was so stressed out about dance rehearsals and pleasing dad, you kept me calm. When I was trying to stay sane while Hatterene was acting… well, insane - you were by my side. And during these past few days, you were still by my side. " She pointed at her Cosmic Scarf. "When I was going to leave the guild in the desert, you gave me this scarf and convinced me to stay."

  "I guess, uh, I did do all that, huh?"

  "You've always helped me through my problems. And now I can help you get through yours. There's a reason you didn't leave already, right?"

  He scratched his chin and nodded as if he got caught. "I don't think I can be a good friend to you, but I want to at least try."

  She squeezed his hand tight. "Then let's try. Together - just like before."

  A wry chuckle escaped him. "And if this is a big mistake and we get caught again or die horribly like Roark expects us to?"

  She giggled in return. "Then I guess we'll die… together, at least. So?"

  "I guess…"

  Could he live with that? Throwing aside a potential future to take a chance beside his partner.

  Yes, he could.

  "I guess you're stuck with me to the end of time then, Braix."

  "I wouldn't have it any other way, Mony."

  They shared a laugh again before Braixen suddenly leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. He froze up instantly as she giggled again at his flabbergasted expression. He eventually settled on quiet relief, happy to finally expel the demon that kept a stranglehold on his heart and mind.

  It was not truly gone, but this tender moment of outspokenness helped him quell it just for a bit longer.

  "I remember when we were just kids, and my dad helped fund and build this playground," Braixen reminisced. "And we played so much here, having the time of our lives. We didn't have to worry about making our parents proud or unsure if we were worthy to society or even each other. We just had fun without a care in the world." She sighed. "And I don't know if we can go back to those simple days again."

  "Maybe not, but we can at least pretend for a bit before we go back to the Mudsdale." Hopping off his seat, he got behind Braixen. "Ready to take off?"

  She smiled. "Ready."

  He pushed her. She swung back and forth, and the harder he pushed her, the more she screamed in joy. A wide smile replaced his frown as he watched her go, just like the old days of their burgeoning friendship.

  Maybe this is what he needed; something to open his eyes and show him that someone did care about his existence.

  And that there was still something worth trying for.

  Thunderous hoof stomps pounded against muddy terrain as the column of galloping Mudsdale neared their destination.

  Liam gripped the reins of his equine companion tight as a wall of trees, bushes, and thick vines whizzed past. He glanced over to see Gloria's Mudsdale riding alongside him. His poor partner was definitely not used to riding, seeing as she was glued to its back, trying to make herself as small as possible.

  "Enjoying the ride, Gloria?" he said through laughter he failed to contain.

  She glared playfully at him. "I'm… trying my best, okay?"

  "I know, I know! Just relax a little!"

  "You make it sound so easy…"

  Excadrill's Mudsdale caught up with them. "Hey, foxy!" he yelled at Roark, who was ahead of the column. "This fancy ole place we're headin' to, you sure we'll be safe from them Council' guards?"

  Roark looked back. "For the time being! This place is pretty obscure and pretty abandoned, and not many 'mons would know about it." He returned his attention to the forefront. "Hey! Looks like we're approaching it now. Seal those lips, sis, and sidekick!"

  Gloria giggled as Liam scoffed.

  Water splashed and rippled beneath a storm of hooves as they crossed a river and through another shroud of tall trees. Emerging into a clearing, they saw it, and it was a spectacle to behold.

  It was an impressively tall and large mansion from the looks of it. The faded letters 'RS' were engraved above a pathway surrounded by moss-ridden statues of heroic-looking Pokemon. Windows were shattered and foliage wrapped around the grey and brown exterior of the building like green cladding.

  Roark's Mudsdale trotted up to the path leading toward the mansion before he hopped off. He cleared his throat and bowed, making a dramatic sweeping motion before everyone else.

  "Allow me to introduce our new base of operations: the abandoned headquarters of the once great Rescue Society!"

  The dead ends we have all reached… There exists a hidden tunnel through forged of pain, misery, and acceptance to get to the light at the end.

  Want to discuss anything related to The Phantasmagoria with the author himself? If so, send a friend request to my Discord linked below!

  Discord: z2h2z

  Next Time: JACKSON'S AUTO PARTS AND REPAIR, LLC