Chapter 2: His First Taste

Riley awoke a few hours later, just as the sunlight began to shine upon the lands again. The sky outside the window was an entire blanket of baby blue, with not even the faintest of wispy clouds tarnishing it. His eyes opened slowly as a beam of sunlight shot into them. He groaned with irritation as he raised his paw to block the ray.

"What the… Ah!" He jolted out of bed and threw off the thin blanket. What time was it? He'd meant to stay awake so they could leave early. He looked to the window desperate for answers. "When did I-"

"Good morning," a voice greeted him. He glanced over to see a plump, grandmotherly Audino smiling back at him, sitting in a chair behind a cheap, small table. It was barely bigger than a nightstand. 'Morning.' As quickly as his panic came, it left him, and in his relief he stared at her in an attempt to size her up.

"You the doctor here?" he guessed.

"Mmhm. The name's Audino," she told him. "I hope you're well-rested. The poison is removed, but you'll need your sleep to get your full range of movement back."

Riley quickly nodded. One of the few things he did know was to never make the doctor angry, so he decided to omit the fact that he had tried to stay awake. "The beds here are more comfortable than I gave them credit for," he said, which wasn't a lie.

"Gallade decided to splurge a bit and get good beds in here a few cycles back," she explained. 'Cycles' again. Some sort of measurement of time? "Although it helps that you're lucky. Most mornings there would be someone else in here. And first thing in the morning, all their friends would rush in to see if they're okay. You wouldn't be able to sleep a wink."

"Then why is it quiet?" Riley asked. "Is the Guild empty? Or is everyone gone?"

Audino gestured towards the door. Which on closer inspection was perfectly fit to its entryway. "Soundproofing. Often my patients need their rest, and this way nothing short of a bomb would disturb them."

The Fighting-type opened his mouth to speak, but he stopped suddenly as the door squeaked open on rusted hinges. A choir of deafening chatter flooded into the room. And in walked a Kirlia, closing the door behind him as he entered. His hair was cut shorter than most, only going down to around his neck in tangled green locks. A pair of red eyes stared straight into Riley, mentally dissecting him and picking him apart.

"Oh, Kirlia," Audino greeted the Psychic-type. "I'd have thought you left already."

"In a moment," Kirlia answered. His slender hand pointed at the jackal in the corner. "You're Riley, are you not? The Guildmaster told me to fetch you."

Riley swept his gaze around the mostly-empty room. His unstated question hug in the air: Who else would it be?

Audino rushed to cut in. "Yup! He's all good to go. Bandages removed, wound washed up… Just something to eat and he'll be golden."

Kirlia nodded curtly. "Right. Then follow me," he ordered. Riley shot a glance back to his nurse, who nodded encouragingly for him to go along. He took a short breath before hopping off the side of the bed.

Kirlia opened the door once again, letting in a rush of prattle from the outside. There were dozens of Pokémon out there that all talked and laughed as they stood around. A Houndour eagerly ran down the hall with a Poochyena tiredly trying to keep up. A Staravia and a Prinplup pointed at a board outlined in green, where several sheets of paper were posted, and a larger group of a Blastoise, a Dragonite, and a Jolteon were conversing over a piece of paper with an illustration of a Greninja that they'd taken off of a board outlined in red.

"C'mon," Kirlia ordered, waving him towards him as he walked. Riley nodded and began to follow. His eyes wandered around to get a general idea of the room he was in. It was a broad hexagon with a room on each side. The infirmary he just came out of was labeled with a simplistic drawing of a variety of berries, and on the wall left of that was what appeared to be a mess hall marked by a cauldron with a ladle sticking out. Beyond that was a long hallway with a gargantuan vault at the far end, and further left was a little hollow where a spiral staircase lead… somewhere. Next to that seemed to be the source of most of the activity. Riley couldn't see it all through the Pokemon, but it appeared to be a lot tunnels.

And finally, on the sixth wall, was a long hallway with a grand wooden door at the end. It looked like it had been ripped straight from a palace. Elegant patterns of gold decorated the wood, climbing up like vines on ruins to a long-since abandoned civilization. The Psychic-type made his way towards the sixth room, Riley following closely behind. Kirlia reached his hand out as he walked and telekinetically moved the left door.

As the door swung open, it revealed a small office. There was a mahogany desk inside, with two stacks of papers on one side, a much smaller stack of blank paper on the other, and an ink well with a quill pen resting inside. Right behind the desk, there was a grand window taking up most of the wall. And through it one could see for miles upon miles upon miles. The land stretched from a rocky outcrop, with pillars of dusty stone jutting out of the ground, into a small plains-like area that wasn't too remarkable, to a series of rolling, forested foothills, until eventually hitting a chain of mountains in the distance.

Behind the desk in an old wicker rocking chair sat the Guildmaster, Gallade, with his hands folded. The gaze of his left eye was settled upon the wall just to the left of the door before it shifted over to Kirlia.

"I've brought him," Kirlia stated, a hint of irritation in his tone.

"I can see that," Gallade replied, putting on a welcoming smile. "Thank you. You can go back to your duties."

Kirlia nodded briefly before turning around and walking away. And as Riley entered in his place, the door dragged itself closed behind him. He glanced over to the left, where a row of six chairs lined the wall. And on two of them sat the two from last night, and his apparent saviors: the Roselia and the Charmander.

"Mornin'," Pyro greeted him. Riley waved in response. Rose glanced over momentarily, acknowledging him with a short little nod.

"Glad to see you're up and well," Gallade commented. "But I don't want to waste any time here. Team Hellraisers."

"Yessir?" Rose exclaimed, hopping off of the chair and saluting. Pyro stood up just after her, standing over her in the same pose.

"Go again and continue your mission in Whispering Prairie," he ordered. "But now, you have another assignment tacked on: escort Riley, and try and find anything he might have dropped."

"Didn't you say this last night?" Riley inquired.

"Not as a direct order," Gallade answered. "Besides, there was something I wanted to give you. Y'know, to keep you safe out there."

The three kids curiously watched as the Guildmaster stood up from his chair, making his way to an old oversized chest in the corner of the room. It was practically a cedar sarcophagus. He had a surprisingly somber aura to him, his single eye looking upon the chest like the grave of a dear friend. With a deep breath, Gallade raised his left hand towards the chest's lock, telekinetically moving around the latches and pins, and with his right he moved to open the lid and reveal the treasures stored inside.

First he had removed four large, leather-bound books, pristine and polished save for a few stains, and bound with a pink ribbon. Next, was another leather bound book, this one about half as thick but with far broader, thicker pages. A photo album, presumably. Spheres of every color of the rainbow, a broken iron crown, a jar with some unidentifiable object suspended in an odd purple ooze… After sifting through all these alien objects for a few seconds, he finally extracted a mere burlap sack from the mess, carefully cradling it in his arms like a child.

"I need to organize that thing one of these days," he muttered to himself. From the bag he proceeded to pull out a scarf dyed an unnatural red. One could wander the entire world, from the deepest jungles to the highest mountains, from the damning deserts to the frozen tundras, and no hue like it would be found. So, it was no wonder that the children's gaze fell onto it with an uncertain awe, like fish to an angler's light. "How many cycles has it been now since you've seen the light of day?" he muttered to himself.

"What is that?" Pyro asked, demanding to know.

"It is known as the Scarlet Scarf," Gallade answered, staring at the cloth with disdain. "Its former wearer was a good friend, using the benefits as an Explorer to help Pokémon all over."

"'Benefits'?" Riley repeated.

"There are a lot of items out there that Pokémon will use to enhance themselves. Strength, speed, endurance, special abilities… the list is nearly endless," Gallade explained. "This one here… it was an odd one. No others like it anywhere in the world." He held out his hand towards Riley, letting the fabric cascade out. "Take it," he demanded. "It'll keep you safe out there."

"But, what does it do?" the Fighting-type asked.

"It's a bit complicated, but it'll give you certain…" He waved his hand around in small circles as he tried to think of the correct word. "Buffs, I guess, depending on the situation. If you're taking a beating, it'll boost your defenses. If you're going in for a barrage, it'll increase your strength. Running away, and you'll get a boost in your speed."

"That's… incredible," Rose whispered, skeptically gazing up at the Guildmaster. "Why would such an item be stored in a chest like that, to be out of commission for however many cycles?"

"Relics hold a lot of history behind them," Gallade said. "History gives them value, often overwhelming their original intent with the identity of those that held them. A crown that sits and gathers dust is nothing but a decoration. And, I don't think he would've wanted that. It's time to put the scarf back out into the world."

Hesitantly, Riley reached over for the scarf, feeling the fabric between his fingers. It was soft and smooth, like silk, but a bit firmer. And it was warm, as if it had been laying for hours in the sun. Gallade let go, letting the rest of it flutter down into his waiting hands.

"Just make sure nothing happens to it," Gallade warned him. "That is all. You're dismissed."

"Yessir," Rose replied, masking her uncertainty as she broke her salute. Pyro followed her lead, breaking his pose and making his way towards the door. "C'mon," she pushed for Riley to tail them.

"Right," he replied, walking after them as he attempted to tie the scarf around his neck. The knot was rather sloppily done, and any good tug would pull it free. And it certainly wasn't stylish in the slightest. But, why would he put in the effort if he was just gonna have to give it back at the end of the day, anyways? The Charmander pulled one of the doors open, holding it as the Roselia walked through, and soon after, the Riolu. Pyro left a moment afterwards, closing the door behind him.

Gallade was alone in his office now- something that was not all that rare. His hand, the same one that was holding that Scarlet Scarf only seconds ago, was held mere inches from his face as his eye bored into it, catching it in all of its sins. Disgustedly angry, he turned away towards the window, staring out into the distance. Past the rocky outcrop, past the plains, past the forested foothills, and past the chain of mountains, and aiming his gaze at another mountain, all by its lonesome far beyond the chain. And it towered over them all, piercing into the heavens. Clouds blocked it off before one could even reach halfway up.

"Forgive me," he muttered to himself, placing his hand, his sinful hand, against the glass.

It was later that afternoon, and after a crowded caravan the three had managed to pay for a ride up to the north, where the dungeon awaited them. They were dropped off a few miles away and after a short walk they reached the dungeon's entrance in no time. The journey might've taken the entire day for smaller Pokémon like them, but with the help of a few strong Rapidash and Zebstrika, they made it there in only a few hours.

Everything was just as it was the day before. A gale blew across an endless sea of grass, whispering sweetly to the three that had just arrived. For miles upon miles, there was only an eternal field, and the wall of mountains behind them. Not even the dust of the caravan's trail could be seen in the distant path they had taken.

"Sooooo…" Riley scratched the back of his head. "Is this the Mystery Dungeon?"

"That's right," Pyro answered him.

"Aptly named," added the Roselia. "Morphing walls, filled with hostile inhabitants, fickle rules and plenty of nonsense. Odd little pockets in our world, they are…"

Riley's ears twitched. He played that back in his head, and slowly but surely an image came to mind. "Living mazes…?" he whispered.

"Weird, I know. Emphasis falls on 'mystery,'" said the Charmander. "I don't even know how they work. All you need is to understand the rules and you'll be fine."

"And what are the rules?"

Pyro shrugged. "The short version? Follow us and play it safe. You never know when a dungeon will break its own rules."

"That's… not helpful, but whatever." Riley was vaguely certain that he would know what he was getting into anyways. His unfounded confidence told him that this would come to him like second nature. In fact, he was excited. Excited to… "I forgot to ask, but what's the mission you're on?"

"Lost item retrieval. Just like you, actually," the Charmander noted.

The Riolu's ears sunk. "Oh. That's… underwhelming," he muttered.

"Tell me about it." Pyro rolled his eyes. "But you don't always get the big jobs. Sometimes we gotta do the grunt work."

The Roselia cleared her throat before announcing to the boys, "I'm going on ahead. This place isn't too much of a problem, so I should be fine on my own." Pyro nodded in confirmation. Rose turned around hastily, wading into the endless field and vanishing beneath the grass. For a moment, the brilliant reds and blues of her flowers could be faintly seen through gaps in the waving plant life, until all that was left was a rustling that quickly drowned in the rest of the dungeon's eternal billowing.

"This might seem like a stupid question," said the Charmander as he began to walk alongside the wall of grass, "but you didn't remember anything new, did you?"

"Don't think so, no," Riley answered, following.

"Thought that'd be the case," he sighed. "Then, I guess it'll be up to us to find anything you might've dropped."

"And if we didn't find anything?" Riley asked out of curiosity.

"That'd be your choice," Pyro stated. A short period of silence passed between them, until the Charmander abruptly stopped and stared out into the grass. "This is probably enough," he guessed. "Stay close, okay?"

Riley nodded. The Charmander pushed aside the wisps of grass, treading into them, and vanishing beneath the surface just as Rose had done a minute prior. With a deep breath, the Riolu entered behind him. And just as the top of his head vanished beneath the surface, the wind burst into a mighty gale, forcing the unsuspecting Riolu onto the ground. The plantlife danced and shifted around, its rustling choir of whispers almost deafening to him. But, just as quickly as it had started, the gale was back to a comforting breeze.

He scrambled back to his feet, confused and startled and gasping for breath, and frantically looking around him. The grass had parted, giving a long pathway that stretched out in a long hall before taking a sharp right turn.

"W-what the-"

"Mystery Dungeon," Pyro reminded him. He pivoted around, signalling for the Fighting-type to follow as he began forward. Riley obeyed and walked closely behind- a mere six inches behind the swinging arc of the flame on the end of the Charmander's tail, his guiding torch. "If you have any questions, I can bring you to someone back at the Guild that'd fill you in," he stated, rounding a corner in the path. "But for now, just stay on the cleared routes."

"Why?" Riley asked.

"You'd get lost forever," Pyro answered.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Probably should have said that first."

"I figured th-... hold on a second." The Charmander's gaze was fixated upon a Rattata, staring back at the two outsiders, snarling and brandishing its two large buck teeth. It was a frail little thing, with skin that clung to its bones and eyes that radiated its hunger.

"Who is this?" Riley asked anxiously.

"They're a wild Pokémon," Pyro answered, stepping forward. Flames spilled out of the corner of his mouth as an Ember built up in his throat. "This one isn't too strong, but they can do a number on you if you drop your guard."

The frail Normal-type stepped forward, closing the distance to just a bit more than a few feet away. With a deep breath, the Charmander arched his neck forward and spat forth a ball of flames. The Rattata jumped to the side, barely dodging as the Ember collided with the dirt and nearly instantly snuffed itself out. Snarling, the Rattata leapt forward and into the air. Pyro took a step to the side and slammed down his claw on the Normal-type's back. With a yelp of pain, it was smitten into the dirt, its body splayed out. The Fire-type stamped his foot into its spine, pinning it there as he again gathered a cluster of flames.

And all the while, less than a yard behind stared the Riolu at the small creature, watching it struggle and writhe underneath the lizard's foot. High-pitched whines and groans escaped the rodent's mouth. All he could think, his head tilted just so, was How sad… The way it squirmed seemed so juvenile and pathetic, like an infant struggling for life. So basic was its nature, in the ways that its beady brown eyes glared up at its captor. Can't even call it 'pitiful', he thought to himself.

The Ember propelled out of the Fire-type's jaw, engulfing the Rattata in a coat of flames. It thrashed about for but a moment, crying its whiny cries until falling limp with a shuddery breath. Pyro shook his head, removing his foot and turning to a wide-eyed Riley.

"See? Nothing to worry about," he told him. "More will be here soon though, so unless you wanna deal with them yourself, I suggest we get going.."

"Got it," Riley answered. As the Charmander turned to continue forward, the Riolu took a moment to look at the unmoving Rattata, crouching down to inspect it. It appeared to be a regular Pokémon. No odd smog, no discoloration- yet seconds ago it was snarling like a rabid, starving forest creature. And presumably, others like it would act the same way. He shook his head with a dissatisfaction and stood up, looking down the path that the Charmander took. But he was gone. Not even the glow of Pyro's flaming tail was within the Riolu's gaze.

"Damn it," he muttered to himself, breaking into a sprint and proceeding down the only available path. But after a mere thirty feet, to his horror he had reached a T-intersection. Left continued on for a short distance before taking a sharp right turn, while the right would take an almost immediate right turn and then continue straight for a while. Worried, he looked down the left path. And then the right. Back to the left. Back to the right. This was getting him nowhere, but there was a coin flip's chance of getting himself even more lost.

Anxiously, the Fighting-type raised himself up to the tips of his toes as he strained himself to peer over the wall of grass. No luck. He brought himself into a crouch before quickly springing up into the air. Still, nothing. The grass towered over him still. He whined to himself. He looked to his left. Back to his right. Nothing, still.

"Great," he sighed to himself. Putting aside his pride, he raised his paws to his muzzle and took a sharp inhale before screaming at the top of his lungs, "HEEEEEEEY!" He paused again, taking a long, quiet breath. The wind had begun to pick up, whispering through the fields and drowning out his cries. "I… WHERE ARE YOU?!"

It was then when a soft thud reached his ears, followed by a low, hungry growl. With a faint gasp, the frightened Riolu spun to face the noise. Standing on the other end of the dungeon's room was a large, bulky Nidorino. Its horn pointed at him like a barrel of a rifle, and a pair of ravenous brown eyes bored into him from behind the toxic point. Its thick hide was coated in rigid edges and spines.

"Hey, there," he instinctively greeted, frozen in place. The wild Pokémon in turn took a few more steps forward. "Nice day we're having, isn't… isn't it?" Oddly enough, it didn't strike up a conversation with the gentleman across from him. He turned to his left again, taking a look down the path. Then to the right, repeating his actions. Both appeared to be clear. A flip of a coin…

But digging into his knowledge of Pokémon, Riley knew that somehow this bulky pseudo-rhino had a higher base speed than him. And he'd be at least level 16, if evolution occurs normally here. Minimum. Compared to his own (whatever it may be), there'd be no chance that he could outrun him. However… the path which was now his right had a few turns in it. A body like a Nidorino's could have difficulties rounding corners. 50% shot it would bring him back to his negligent bodyguard, and it would at the very least get him out of this situation. And possibly into one even worse, but it would be better to take his chances rather than just stay and wait.

And yet, he was still frozen in place, pinned there like a rare insect in a display case. It wasn't fear that was the culprit, either, though it was still present at the scene. Rather, it was an eldritch enthrallment that kept him there, scarlet eyes staring into the hungry brown ones of the Poison-type. Just what is it going to do? he asked himself, with the fascination and the distance of a researcher studying an animal never before seen. The fear inside him thinned out into a cautionary warning.

The Nidorino then let out a short, low roar before breaking into a heavy sprint and barreling towards the Riolu. Its movements were fast for its size, but clunky, like a charging bull. Riley jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack and watching carefully as the wild Pokémon came to a screeching halt. A cloud of dust formed as its hind legs dug into the ground.

"Is… was that it?" Riley asked himself aloud, arm outstretched towards the Poison-type with his palm facing upwards. The Nidorino turned around, stamping its front foot on the ground twice. "Guess I shouldn't expect more from an undersized rhino," he muttered, widening his stance to keep himself ready. In turn, the wild Pokémon again charged forward and leapt into the air, aimed to crash down onto the Riolu. He dove underneath the Poison-type to evade it, feeling his ears brush against its underbelly before he landed on his stomach.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he stared back at it. His heart beat like a war drum. An excited, goofy grin spread across his face. Chuckling, he stood himself and brushed the dirt off of his fur. It were as if he had regressed into a child again, playing out recklessly in the woods until the sun was nearly gone. And why wouldn't he be? This was the kind of scene kids would reenact with their friends. But here he was, actually living every child's fantasy. Turning to flee would be like spitting in the faces of every bit of innocent imagination that has been collectively mustered over the years.

Let's see… he thought to himself, digging through his small reserve of Pokémon knowledge. Four moves… A Riolu around my level would only kn-... "Shit," he muttered under his breath. What level was he? Do levels even work in this world like they do in the game? As the Poison-type turned around again, nostrils flaring with a built-up rage, he decided that now was probably not the best time to figure this out. Experience is the best teacher, after all… hopefully.

With a deep, nervous breath, Riley began to walk forward. The red scarf around his neck grew comfortingly warm, engulfing his body in the radiating heat, cradling him like an infant in their mother's womb. His fist rapidly switched from a loose to a tight clench, the sound of the rough paw pads scraping together faintly cutting through the now gently blowing winds. The Nidorino in turn began to approach the already approaching Riolu, slowly but noticeably gaining speed. Low, barely audible grunts escaped from the wild Pokémon's barely open jaw as it lowered its head, pointing its horn directly at the intruding Pokémon.

His legs immediately sprung off the ground, rushing the Fighting-type around the Nidorino in a blur. A faint white streak of light trailed behind him for but a moment. His first guess was correct: Quick Attack. 25% compl-

The Nidorino, with a mighty roar, kicked back with its hind legs and crashed its hoof straight into the bottom of Riley's muzzle. He felt some of his bones crack as he soared backwards, skidding and bouncing on the dirt like a toy hurled by a tantruming toddler. Blood had begun to pool in his mouth. His jaw bone moved in jittery, mechanical motions. It wouldn't be until later, though, that the "headache", for lack of a better word, would kick in. And oh, would it be a hell of a kick. Shaking his head, he propped himself up with his two arms behind him and quickly swallowed the small shot glass worth of blood.

"Jesus," he groaned, laughing faintly. "I'll admit, I didn't give you a fair shot earlier. My bad. Now…" Slowly, he stood himself up to his shaking feet. He couldn't feel just how weak his body was now. If it weren't for the adrenaline he would have been wailing and squirming in the dirt. But for now, it sufficed to puppet him around for a while longer. He clenched his fists again, recalling a move that a Riolu could learn in the fairly early levels: Force Palm. "Let's try this again," he laughed, unable to wait for another clash.

But then, out of the blue, a series of vines appeared from seemingly nowhere and began to envelope the Nidorino. The wild Pokémon yelped in confusion, only managing to turn its neck to look at the source before the thorned tendrils began to glow a bright red, and the Poison-type cried out in pain as the dozens of plants sapped away the remains of its health. In mere seconds, the hue on its hyde changed from a plum purple to a faded lavender, like a shirt that had been in the washer a few too many times, and with a defeated gasp, it collapsed.

"You idiot!" screamed a voice from behind the body. The source began storming her way around the unconscious foe, revealing herself to be the Roselia from earlier: Rose. "What were you thinking?!"

"Me? What about you?" Riley countered, visibly upset. "I was just about to-"

"Get yourself killed out here? Yeah, no duh," she spat, gesturing to his slightly shifted jawbone. "Consider yourself lucky that you're still standing. I don't even know how the hell you're doing that."

"I could've taken it," Riley huffed, crossing his arms.

"Arceus, you're just...I'm done," Rose sighed, raising her blue flower to her forehead. "Where the hell did Pyro run off to?"

Riley turned around and pointed to the T-intersection path. "Down one of those," he answered. "I lagged behind a bit, and he went on ahead. I didn't wanna risk getting myself even more lost, so I stayed put. But," he shrugged, "then that showed up."

"Unbelievable," she muttered, reaching into a small bag that hung by her side. Between the red petals she removed a small seed, no bigger than a pumpkin's. The outer shell had an alluring goldenrod hue to it. "Take this," she offered, extending her arm up towards the Riolu. "If I had to guess, your jaw has less than a minute before it starts hurting. This is like a painkiller. Swallow it, if you can."

"Thanks," he accepted, taking the seed into his paw. He then placed it on his tongue carefully and, with a bit of a struggle, managed to bring it down.

"Don't mention it," Rose dismissed, turning to look down the path. "Just doing my job." She looked carefully down the left route, and then the right. Left again. Right again. Once more, nothing. "Damn it, you stupid lizard," she spat. "Where the hell did you go?"

With nothing else to say, Riley turned around once again and began making his way towards the pale, unconscious body of the Nidorino. There was still the expected, unsettling vibe of being about a fallen beast, not knowing what it will do or not. But now, covered in rapidly withering vines, it seemed so fragile. She only took it out in, what, one attack? That's pathetic! If he actually got the chance to fight it, he could have taken it out in like three or four, easy. If she hadn't shown up out of the blue like that, right now he would be stan… ding… his thoughts froze almost instantly as he came to what should be the obvious realization.

"Hold up a minute," he objected, tilting his head faintly as he again turned to face her. "I thought you entered the dungeon elsewhere. Why're you over here?"

"Doesn't matter," she answered.

"Yeah, I'd think it does," he persisted.

"The adrenaline in your system is gone by now," she stated, still refusing to turn around. "So the 'painkiller' should be kicking in."

"Wait, what?!" he exclaimed, taking a wobbly step forward. He tried to clench a fist, but all his paw could muster was a limp clump.

"Don't panic," she attempted to soothe. "You'll wake up in the Guild again, all patched up."

"You b… b…!" The word never came out, for right when it was about to, Riley staggered backwards and collapsed. The last thing he saw was the pleased smirk on her face before his eyelids shut themselves, and he tumbled onto the ground with a soft thud. Out like a light.

"Oi, Riley!" came a cry from up ahead, as if on cue. Pyro.

"We're over here!" Rose shouted back. His footsteps quickened as the Fire-type came panting down the left path. A scratch trailed up his stomach to his chin, and the flame on his tail was a mere candle compared to the fire it was prior.

"I'm so sorry," he pleaded between breaths. "I saw the item we were looking for just up ahead, but when I went for it, there was an ambush, and I…" Pyro's soft blue eyes settled uncomfortably on the drugged Riolu next to the unconscious wild Nidorino. "What happened to him?" he demanded to know.

"Calm down," she urged him. "He's fine. Just passed out. I gave him a Sleep Seed."

He hesitated. "Do… Do I even want to know why?"

"The guy tried to fight the wild guy next to him," she explained with a sigh. "Took a good kick to the jaw and tried to keep going. Lucky for him, I showed up."

"Lovely," he groaned, rolling his eyes. "Now we can't complete the second objective."

"Not true," Rose objected. Before her partner could ask, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small, blue object. It was about the size of a peach, with a sleek texture like a polished ceramic. A few holes around the surface revealed a hollow inside, and on one end appeared to be a spout that tilted out at an angle.

"What is it?" asked a bewildered Charmander, staring at the object with an entranced fixation.

"No clue," she answered. "I was gonna ask the Guildmaster if he recognized it when we got back." Rose rotated it a few more times to get a better look before carefully placing it back in her bag. "Speaking of, you said you found the item we needed?" Pyro nodded. "Then let's not waste any more time here."

"Yeah, I get it," the Fire-type mumbled.

It was some time late in the day when the sky was set ablaze as Riley awoke. Yet again, he was in the same soft bed of the infirmary, with the soft blanket draped over him. He let out a low groan as he shifted over and pulled himself halfway out of the thin but warm fabric. In a tired daze, he opened his eyes and looked around. He was alone. The desk in the corner was uninhabited, and the remaining five beds were just as empty.

A moment later as he began to regain himself, he noticed a dull ache pulsating from his jawbone. Curious, Riley gently raised his right paw to its source to discover a small, smooth patch curving with the geometry of his muzzle to cover… something. Presumably, whatever mark was left by the kick back in the dungeon.

The Riolu stopped when he noticed something in his peripheral vision. Turning his head revealed it to be a note resting on the bed next to his, perched on the pillow with characters written in a dark purple ink, just barely off from being pure black. He leaned over to inspect the note, reading it as five simple words: "Come to my office. -Gallade." The handwriting seemed unfitting of Gallade's character, with a bit too much personality and polish put into the lettering. It seemed to match more with Audino, if anyone.

"Yessir," he groggily mumbled to himself, throwing off the blanket entirely and jumping down from the bed. And it was the moment that his paws hit the cold stone floor that he came to the sudden realization: the scarf was missing. Panic filled his being for a mere fraction of a second as he took a sharp inhale, frantically grasping at his exposed neck. He felt so cold. So, so oddly cold. A moment was taken to calm himself down. "Easy," he attempted to soothe, now becoming aware of how insane he would appear to be to an observer. "They just gave it back to Gallade. So…" He stopped himself, shaking his head to free himself of his thoughts, and then continued forward.

Jumping up to reach the doorknob, he opened the door attached to it and entered the main room of the Guild. This late, nearly all of the Pokémon who would have returned from a daily excursion were in their rooms and doing whatever. The only ones left in the main hall were a passing duo of a Luxio and a Buisel that returned a curious glance to Riley for only a second before returning to a conversation about a mission they would take the next day. Something about a lake, from what he couldn't help but overhear.

He made his way over to the elegant, out-of-place doors to the Guildmaster's office and gave it two hard knocks. Before his third even hit the wood, the reverberation of the lock's mechanisms sliding into place rang dully, and the door slid open just enough so Riley could squeeze through. He did so, and the door shut behind him.

Gallade sat upon his desk, papers and documents moved aside to give him the room he needed. His being merely a silhouette as he basked in the twilight entering from the window. The Psychic-type kept his right hand held in a way similar to the form a connoisseur holds their wine glass. His left eye was fixated upon the blue, peach-sized object that levitated above his palm.

"Glad to see you're up," Gallade said, blank and motionless.

"It was just a kick," Riley dismissed. "I wouldn't even have gone out cold like that if it wasn't for the side effects on some 'painkillers'."

"That's not why I'm glad, though that's good to hear," Gallade replied. He extended his index finger and pointed it at Riley, and the smooth object floated over to the Fighting-type. "It's about this thing here."

"What is it?" the young Riolu inquired, reaching out to take it into his hands. The tips of his fingers traced along the slick polish and found themselves naturally falling upon a line of four holes near the top.

"It's called an 'ocarina'," Gallade answered him. "Normally they're a bit bigger than that, but this is a children's model. Blow into the top, why don't you?" Hesitantly, Riley brought it to his lips, putting the spout inside and giving it a quick, sharp exhale. And from the unplugged holes came an equally quick, equally sharp note. An underwhelming silence filled the room the moment the ocarina's billowy chirp ceased.

"Was… was that all it does?" Riley asked, inspecting it more carefully.

"In skilled hands, far from it," Gallade answered. "But in yours, apparently so. It's just an instrument. No sorcery."

"Then why show it to me?" he inquired.

"Before you… 'collapsed' out there, Miss Rose found that in the dungeon," Gallade explained. "Since an area like that is generally unpopulated, not counting the Wildies, and an ocarina is an especially uncommon luxury, I thought that this might be yours. It would appear that isn't the case."

"Yeah, sorry. I got nothing," Riley told him, tossing the ocarina back. Gallade caught it in his left hand and gently placed it on his table.

"Not a problem," Gallade said back. "I didn't expect you to find anything. Humans don't tend to bring over belongings when they transfer. And as expected, you're no abnormality."

"So, we went out and just stole this off the ground?" Riley surmised.

"Technically," the Guildmaster answered with a shrug. "But let's put the instrument aside for now." He placed the ocarina down on the table, and stared thoughtfully at the the Fighting-type. "How was it out there in the dungeon?"

"Kinda short," Riley admitted. "It was getting kinda fun before it suddenly stopped." Perhaps there was a little bit of venom in his voice. Not even Riley knew if that's what it truly was.

"So, you want to go back? Is that what I'm hearing?" Gallade asked, a hint of playfulness in his tone. The Riolu across from him nodded and averted his eyes. Without a word, the Guildmaster stood up and walked around to behind his desk. The stacks of papers moved themselves back into their prim and proper position, shifting and flipping and twirling until freezing in their perfect position, like it was some plastic set-up in a nuclear testing site. Gallade sat down in his chair and reached underneath the desk, only to pull up a small, brown satchel, which he plopped down on a cleared spot on the surface before him.

"What's that?" Riley asked, almost demanding, his gaze set upon the bag between them. Something was in there; something that he, on a base level, needed to have.

"It's an offer, from me to you," Gallade began as he leaned back in his chair. "Put bluntly, I'd like you to join the Guild."

The single statement took the Riolu aback as a rush of thoughts came to his mind, swarming like piranhas to an animal unlucky enough to have fallen in the water. And every one of them was asking one question, chanting it to summon the answer: why? Why would the Guildmaster ask a nothing like him to join the Guild? Why would he ask first before Riley inevitably requested sanctuary? Why would he accept a human if it meant putting both his and the Guild's reputation on the line? So many questions, and yet, he asked none of them. He didn't care what the answers may be. They didn't seem important. All he wanted right there and then was that bag on the table, and whatever was in it, with a burning desire.

"Yes," Riley blurted out. His voice rang clear like a church bell.

"Eager, are we?" Gallade snickered. "Glad to hear it. Welcome to the Guild." He extended his arm out to the strap of the satchel and gently tossed it to the Fighting-type. Riley slid his paw under the cover, digging around only to feel the warm, silky fabric of the scarf he had adorned earlier. He couldn't believe it. With a skeptical glance, he gently pulled the article out to be greeted by its vibrantly unreal hue of red.

"I…" He struggled to complete his sentence, unsure if he was really willing to be humble this time. "I thought you said this was your friend's," Riley said hesitantly.

"Not anymore," Gallade replied. "The dead can lay no claims to anything but their own deeds." A bitter smile spread across his face, partially hidden by the shadows birthed from the twilight casted from the window. "And like I said, he wouldn't want to see it gathering dust as it had been. Go ahead, put it on."

The Fighting-type looked back down at the Scarlet Scarf again. It was like something out of a Greek epic, woven out of a goddess's hair and dyed in the blood of some mythical eldritch beast. And to have once been adorned by a fallen friend? The value behind this thing, both emotionally and monetarily, must have been incomprehensible. He wasn't worthy of such a treasure. Yet, it was offered to him for free. The swarm of thoughts in his mind kicked up again, becoming a choir of "Why? Why?" echoing through his head. But he ignored them. He didn't care.

"Th-thank you, really," Riley stumbled, gently dropping the bag and carefully tying the scarf around his neck. Its nurturing, blissful warmth coated his body as he tied the final knot.

"You know where the dorms are, right?" Gallade asked. "Yours will be room 317."

"317?"

"Third branch, seventeenth room. They're all labeled for you."

"Oh. But what about the rest of the bag?" Riley inquired.

"They're all self-explanatory," Gallade replied. "If you have any questions, just ask your Guildmates."

"Got it," said Riley, putting the satchel's strap over his shoulder and turning towards the door.

"I hope you'll manage to get a night's rest," Gallade called after him. "Tomorrow will be a busy day."

"I'll try," Riley called back. Gallade raised his hand again, activating the telekinetic lock and opening the door for the Fighting-type. He squeezed through again before it shut back behind him with a heavy, dull slam.

The Guildmaster levitated the ocarina in front of his face once again, watching the glossy instrument gradually rotate in place. He couldn't help but to notice the effort that its crafter put into making such a beautiful treasure. Whoever owned it must have valued it indeed. But all it would take was one good throw against a wall to shatter it. It would be so easy. And Gallade knew that it would make it easier. But, admittedly, it did have its values in being in tact.

The dorms Gallade spoke of branched off from one another from the open tunnel on the wall right from the Guildmaster's office. There were a total of 12 different tunnels, each spaced out with roughly 20 feet of stone. Above the farthest left tunnel, someone had written in a white chalk-like substance "101-150." The one immediately right of that had "201-250," and to the right of that had "301-350", and so on until the final twelfth tunnel. There, it simply had written "MISC". Peering down this hall would reveal roughly a dozen locked doors, and nothing more.

With a deep breath, Riley began making his way down the third tunnel. The rooms were all along the left wall, spaced out every fifteen feet or so where an archway lead into a 12x10x8 room was carved out of the ground. The following day he would learn that most of the inhabitants stayed in the first four halls, taking up the rooms in the front. With a total of 550 rooms, exactly 71 of them were inhabited. The majority of them were, for now, on reserve in case of a natural disaster. With the Guild's heavy fortification, the town would be safe in there while things would rebuild.

Nearly all the rooms were filled tonight with a variety of Pokémon, most in their first or second evolution. A Tyrogue and a Flaaffy laid back on soft but simple piles of hay as they wistfully discussed their adventures from the day in the darkness left by an extinguished torch still glowing red. Pieces from a game hit a checkered board as a Furret gently placed down a rook-looking thing, smirking faintly as he challenged the Munchlax across from her. A Poliwhirl revealed their hand of cards to a Watchog and a Castform, laughing confidently as they became distressed. But none of them gave Riley the light of day. The most he would get was a curious glance before they returned to whatever activity they were doing beforehand.

Above each doorway their number was written in chalk, and it wasn't long before Riley stumbled upon 317. It was no different than the others. Two piles of hay that were supposed to suffice for beds, two wall-mounted torches on either end of the room, and a section cut out of a tree trunk that served as a table. And, also like the others, it was inhabited. A Charmander sat at the table with a wooden block in his hands, whittling away at the edges with his claws. Slivers had been swept neatly into a small pile. And on the other end, a Roselia lay on her stomach on the cold stone floor, a book nearly as big as her opened before her. The Charmander looked up to the surprised Riolu and greeted him with his usual warm smile.

"Welcome," Pyro beamed.

"What are you two doing here?" Riley asked, trying his best not to sound too rude.

"We…" Pyro looked to his partner with uncertainty. "We live here."

"But Gallade told me-" Riley stopped himself, the realization dawning on him. He exhaled sharply through his nostrils and shook his head in annoyance. "Crafty old man," he muttered under his breath.

"What, he didn't tell you that you've been assigned to our team?" Rose piped up, looking up from her book.

"Nope," Riley answered. "For whatever reason, he left it as a surprise. I didn't even know I was getting thrown onto a team, period."

"What did you expect, that he'd send an amnesiac out into the world whose only seen one battle?" Rose scoffed.

"Hey, I could have handled the thing myself if you hadn't intervened," Riley spat, taking an aggressive step forward.

"Then give it another shot tomorrow," she offered in an attempt to defuse him. Somehow, it worked.

"With you two?" he asked with uncertainty. "But, won't I slow you guys down?" Those words singed his mouth on their way out.

"Don't worry about it," Pyro dismissed. "We'll find something that's a nice balance for all of us here."

"But, I…" He stopped himself once again. He couldn't think of another reason to say no. Sure, there was the classic I barely know you, but that applied to literally everyone else here. If anything, he knew them better than anyone else, save for maybe the Guildmaster. And when you boil it down, he did find himself wanting to join them, if for no other reason than the companionship. Better to drink with strangers than to drink alone, as they say. "Oh, what the hell," he exclaimed, walking into the room.

"That's the spirit," Pyro jested, pointing towards a pile of hay. "That'll be your bed. It was just set up a few hours ago, so it'll still be nice and plush."

"But, there's only two," Riley pointed out.

"He can't sleep on the hay," Rose said. "His tail's on fire."

"Then where does he sleep?" he continued.

"On the floor," Pyro answered. His usual smile was gone, back on the shelf for when he'd need it again. "It's not actually as bad as you'd think, if you get used to it."

The Riolu nodded, if nothing but to confirm that he was listening, and walked further into the room. He placed down his satchel near his pile of hay and looked around a bit more. A small stack of books sat behind the other 'bed'. They were all roughly the same size save for a larger, thinner, brown leather-back book at the bottom. A small cluster of orbs, each a different hue from the one next to it, were pinned in between a few loose stones. Looking by the table, another checkerboard sat against the stone wall, and next to that a collection of wood-sculpted figures to some weird board game. Riley's eyes narrowed in on them, trying to see just what they did. Half of them seemed to be made of a bright birch, while the others' color made them appear like molded caramel. They were all of varying size and shape, ranging from posing Pokémon to odd variations of what appeared to be shields.

"What, you wanna play?" Pyro offered, sweeping the slivers off the surface of the table.

"Oh, no. I don't even know how," Riley dismissed.

"C'mon, it's not that hard," Pyro pushed, reaching for the board. "It's not like you have anything else to do, right?"

"Well… yeah, I guess you're right," the Riolu shrugged, walking over to the opposite end of the table. The Charmander began placing piece after piece on the board, setting them up before trying his best to explain the rules. They would play a total of two games and get halfway through a third before deciding to get to sleep. Pyro again put everything away and curled up on the ground. Rose would have already collapsed into her pile of hay, and Riley did the same soon after.

And there he would lay for some odd hours, unaware of just how long it had been. The swarm of thoughts in his mind had picked up activity again, pleading for answers he could not give them; pleading for answers from a blank memory. Who he was, what he did, what his family was like, if he even had a family to begin with… he was a human before this, wasn't he? With a whole life he had just left behind? Despite several mental protests for them to leave him alone, it wouldn't be until some time far past midnight that he would finally drift asleep, and brace for the next day.