Honchkrow was a proud thing to behold: glossy dark blue feathers with white and red—not to mention a topper on its head which could easily rival the Grand Master's. Now it would be treated with the respect it deserved. An outcast no more; it would be feared by all Murkrow, and challenge the other Honchkrow that dared to defy it. With a new candor that reflected terror, this Honchkrow would own Boston and wilds around it.

Or that was once the hope.

Ever since it was ousted by the leader of its former flock, the Murkrow was isolated and undesirable to others. Aimless and without the protection of a group, it found itself in a tough spot. But no more. The arrival of the Providence was all it needed in order for its luck to return.

Now a Honchkrow, a Pokémon symbolic of authority, it felt its purpose renewed. Yet, something was hollow. Something was lacking.

And Honchkrow knew perfectly what that was.


Haytham's mood had soured when he returned to the Tavern. He was actually surprised to see Charles Lee still there, right where he'd been left. Upon his return, Lee had poured over the Grand Master and his frightening change in condition. Asking him every manner of question, and begging a thousand pardons, Lee tailed Kenway as the pair stepped inside the establishment.

"Charles, I'm afraid your stone is now in someone else's hands."

His delivery of the news was so cold, so collected, that Charles could only acknowledge with a hesitant "Oh."

And when he explained how he came to be covered in something very similar to soot, Charles could only apologize.

But Haytham did remember to leave out a few important details. The conversation never made headway as he busied himself dusting the mess off his clothes. The task was more difficult than it should have been, and when he expressed annoyance, Charles took it upon himself to continue for him—but Haytham was adamant that it should just be left alone, reinforced by Hickey's chortling. At least Haytham managed to clean his skin, though his hair could have used... more.

The day drew on, passing into evening, with the Templars discussing their next move all the while. Haytham was not totally into the subject at hand, however; and considering he had a headache, he could care less about their united motives. He merely sat at the table with the others, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to block out the noise of the inn—associates included.

But with the arrival of night came the chirping of crickets, as if to add insult to injury. Haytham was just tired now. All he wanted was to retire for the night.

However, another sound was mixed in.

Haytham glanced over at Charles, then making his voice heard for the first time in about an hour. "Charles?"

"Sir?" the other answered curiously, not quite turning to face him. The others suddenly quieted down.

"What is that sound?"

Charles listened carefully, straining to hear anything out of the ordinary. He couldn't place it at first, but he too heard something. Some kind of yelling. But it hardly sounded human.

Haytham stood, quitting the room and marching directly outdoors. His associates followed. His headache and blackened clothes told him what he should have expected to see upon making it past the threshold. He was not surprised, but definitely curious. He let out a sigh as he beheld the large, plump Honchkrow cawing its heart out atop the same building as earlier in the day.

It noticed him and cawed at his presence. It was definitely the same bird that took advantage of him. There was a glint in its eye that told Haytham it was pleased to see him. How he felt about it, though, could not be compared.

Charles leaned over to the Grand Master and wondered, "Is that what I think it is?"

"I believe so—and the thief who took your stone."

Honchkrow flew down, approaching the group but stopping a good distance away from the Grand Master. It looked up at him, admiring how the remains of its Haze attack stuck to him.

"Y'know tha' thing?" Hickey asked disparagingly as he shoved past Johnson. He took a good look at the Pokémon but wasn't impressed.

"Unfortunately," Haytham answered. He walked forward, narrowing his eyes at the creature that stood almost in defiance before him. "What is it you want now? You have what you sought. Are you still not satisfied?"

Honchkrow's approach wasn't hostile, but lenient. It looked only at Haytham, desiring only his attention. Honchkrow felt that it would not lead a fulfilling life if it only surrounded itself with Murkrow. That part of its life had passed ever since it was exiled. It no longer desired to head a flock, as its newly gained power could be used for something more. The Templars presented it with a new opportunity whether or not they knew it.

But Haytham also felt something; like this Pokémon was not like any other, and its fixation on him must have held a deeper meaning. The way it outsmarted him, used him for its personal gain, was telling of its ability and its heightened intelligence. It was obvious to him that Honchkrow displayed a controlled amount of wit out of discretion, and that surprises lurked beneath its plumage. What an asset it could prove to be.

Houndoom snarled at the infiltrator, just waiting for the command to be given—but this time Haytham would not allow another screw-up. He cautioned Charles to keep the dog under complete control as he worked out a strategy.

With an air of delicacy, Haytham took another step forward, clasping his hands behind his back, suggesting, "Now, let's sort this out—without the need for tricks."

Honchkrow was silent and only observed him. It blinked, and allowed the Templar to say more.

"Why have you come back? I honestly thought you were done with us."

No response.

"In what way do we interest you?"

Nothing.

"...We could serve each other."

An attractive thought. Had Haytham gotten the same idea? The bird tilted its head as if to encourage him to go on.

"That smoke you used to incapacitate me can be very useful." Haytham thought quickly, came up with a lie: "We could provide you with all manner of lustrous curiosities. Only offer us your... advanced services."

"Are you certain about this?" Charles whispered, full of doubts. He could not put his trust into a thieving wretch, and wondered why Haytham apparently felt differently.

"Its abilities will give us the edge," the Grand Master answered, exaggerating awe as he spoke aloud so that Honchkrow could hear. He gave it a charismatic smile, adding, "Ours would be a mutually beneficial relationship. What say you?"

The others remained silent as they watched, waiting with some level of confusion and apprehension. For Johnson and Hickey, this was all news to them. But if the Grand Master wanted a Pokémon, then why not? There seemed to be a handful of them already, what with Lee's Houndoom and a Scraggy that accompanied Hickey.

The proposal was enticing, to say the least. There was virtually nothing Honchkrow had to give aside from its cooperation. In fact, it had everything to gain. It knew that many humans were kind to Pokémon, treating them like equals, and it honestly had not seen any malice from Haytham. If anything, his reactions were due to provocation. Honchkrow had been terrible to him, in reality.

It thought deeply, quietly, stiff as a board.

Haytham knew that agreement was practically in the bag. He let the Pokémon muse a while longer as he turned to Hickey, asking him to fetch him something from the Tavern. A kind of an offering, as insurance. Food almost always sealed the deal for a Pokémon, especially one that struggled each day to keep itself from starving. Haytham would take it upon himself to keep the bird fed and thus satisfy it further with their arrangement—and he could always talk the others into helping.

When Hickey returned, Haytham blindly opened up his hand to receive the food.

"You 'adn't specified," the youngest of the men explained with something of a careless smirk.

The Grand Master had to do a double take as he nearly presented the offering. He set eyes on what exactly he'd been given, and turned sharply to Hickey and hissed, "Cheese?! Thomas, birds— forget it." He changed his mind about giving a lecture. It would have to do.

He proceeded with his plan, and walked toward Honchkrow who had perked up in curiosity as it watched him after it heard his voice rise. He revealed the contents of his hand, bending over some to get as level with the Pokémon as he could without stooping unnecessarily. "Here: if you take this, you accept partnership. Otherwise, you're free to go off into the woods, or wherever it is you come from, to try your luck, same as always."

Honchkrow stared at the gift that seemed to stare right back, almost beckoning. But whether food was involved or not, Honchkrow had made its choice. Wings outstretched, it raced forward and snatched the piece of cheese right from the hand that fed it. Haytham ducked instinctively as the Flying-type nearly crashed into him, but it swerved upward and safely placed itself upon the Green Dragon Tavern's roof. It turned around, looked him in the eye, and began to pick away at the food. Its fate was sealed, and it had no second thoughts.

"Well," Haytham observed, pleased, "that was fairly simple." He watched his new partner as it all but choked down the cheese, and it cawed at him when it finished. Perhaps saying "thank you"? He could only guess, but doubted, too, that what it said was anything like an expression of gratitude. Still, the development was satisfactory for both ends, and he smiled lightly in accomplishment.

What started as a confrontation ended on surprisingly amiable terms. Since the beginning, Honchkrow didn't understand why it had chosen to follow him. The purple rock was only a bonus reward; but even after evolving, it thought the same of him as it had when it first laid eyes on him. It liked to torment him; it liked seeing his tried expressions; it liked the authority he held, and the way he carried himself. He was something worth admiring, and Honchkrow could benefit from his presence.

"We've found ourselves a new Templar," Johnson remarked amusingly, but there was truth to his words.

"How long will that last, I wonder?" Charles mused aloud.

Haytham rested a hand on the man's shoulder, encouraging in behavior as the small group walked back to the Tavern. "Now, Charles, let's put some faith into this relationship. I trust we can depend upon Honchkrow."

"Since you believe so strongly in it, sir, I will try to do the same."

Without extended conversation, the men retreated back into their shelter, and the fuss was all over. Honchkrow would be spending more time with the Houndoom that disagreed with it, but that was no issue anymore. Honchkrow had a human now.

It belonged.