Chapter 2, or Light 'Em Up.

It was due to her training and experience that she was so silent.

At least, that was what Zila told himself, for as much as he hated to admit it, she was better at hiding in the shadows than he. In all aspects that was wrong, for the darkness was where he belonged. Wasn't it? He was a Zoroark, after all. A mutated Zoroark, to be sure, but the scientists had been certain he was as close as they could get in comparison to a normal one. At least, that's what they told him... and they had gotten his chemical makeup mostly right, hadn't they?

No. Of course they hadn't. Who am I kidding? The sheen of white fur all over his body proved that, his oddly colored eyes proved that, his ability to form ice from thin air proved that. He wasn't a Zoroark at home in the darkness: he was a Zoroark with no home at all.

He was grown in a test tube. He didn't know who his parents – donors, actually, the word vile on his tongue – were. He had been living a caged existence all his life. The only reason they had let him live was because he had been a 'successful' experiment – one of the few successes out of how many? He couldn't even remember; the numbers had escalated to impossible heights as of late…

He was an outcast. A mutant, a freak of nature. Sometimes even he hated himself. Not even sometimes, actually; it was hard to find anything redeeming about him.

"Zila?"

And Yue. He didn't understand her. Why did she stay with him? All the Assassins that had been assigned to 'watch' him had always left within a day, normally citing something along the lines of "He was being conceited and snotty". But she had stayed by his side, unwavering, being – dare he say it – pleasant company for the most of the two months and nearly four days now.

She only ever conversed with him and only him; that hadn't escaped his notice. She preferred to stay in the background usually, always letting her fellow Assassins talk over her before she contradicted all of them with one well-chosen word or two. But with him – he talked, she replied, and so they would go back and forth in an actual conversation. She never got frustrated when he tried to argue with her, and he never stayed silent when she asked a question.

It was – it was like – no, he knew what it was. This was the only time he ever got attention from another being; somehow he felt the need to wield superior power over her with his mysterious past and form of mutated Zoroark. She was curious and that made her vulnerable, and never had Zila had someone to exploit. But he could never exploit her, that was quite obvious, so instead, he humored her. He answered her questions truthfully unlike his days back in the lab those years ago. Then, he had always lied and given the scientists what they wanted to hear, but only for his own benefit, so he didn't get punished.

Was it foolish to be friends with someone like her? Perhaps it was. But it was better than going through life with only loneliness to keep him company.

"Zila, are you listening to me?" Ah, in his thoughts he had forgotten to reply to her.

"Yeah, sorry, what?" he asked, his voice automatically light and cheerful, inwardly scowling. Why couldn't he just act like he felt like would be 'normal' for him?

Yue looked uneasy, red-orange eyes flicking from side-to-side, a small, tight frown on her face. "There's someone following us."

Zila blinked once, surprised. He would have heard anyone approach, and in addition, they had covered their tracks well, looping back and forth and leaving false scent trails; it was doubtful someone would follow them. Still, since this was Yue, he pricked his ears and carefully listened for any sound.

"I can't – " he began, until he heard a distinct noise, one of fabric snapping once in the wind, though it was silenced immediately. He automatically shifted into a defensive position; the noise had been far too close for him to be comfortable. Yue had heard it as well, but instead of looking worried her frown deepened into a scowl.

"Of all people to choose," she muttered darkly under her breath, just barely loud enough for him to hear, "they just had to send him." She took a few nimble steps closer to him and said quietly, "He is an Accelgor, so be wary of his Bug-type attacks."

Bugs. Zila shuddered. He really didn't like bugs. Yue noticed the slight movement but, instead of being apologetic, she rolled her eyes and proceeded to smirk at him. "I can't believe you of all people - bugs, really? That is probably one of the stupidest things I have ever learned in my life."

"Shut up," he grumbled – and then was violently thrown to the side by what appeared to have been a Focus Blast right next to his feet. He landed hard on the ground, dazed and more than a little confused, blinking rapidly to clear the stars in his eyes.

It took him a moment to gather his wits, and even as he slowly climbed to his feet, his ears were ringing and his head pounded. Yue was shouting something that he couldn't quite make out, and she attempted to intercept a dark blue blur that was coming straight for him.

Abruptly his mind cleared, and he did a quick little two-step in order to dodge said blue blur. The thing stopped, turned – Zila couldn't make out the facial features, as the bottom of the face was covered in what appeared to be pink bandages and framed by pink hair. The entirety of the upper face was shadowed by more of the pink hair, though he could just make out a cross-shaped scar on the forehead.

Yue was shouting again, and this time, he could make it out. "Dammit, Hikaru, would you stop and listen to me?!"

The person across from him – well, the Accelgor, actually, wearing what appeared to be a ridiculously long scarf made of a single bandage – brought both hands together, and Zila watched, wary, as a ball of light slowly formed between the palms. Then, with blinding speed, the Accelgor darted forward, doing some sort of spin in order to move past him while simultaneously launching the Focus Blast attack into his midsection.

Zila found things moved in slow motion, his mind coolly calculating where to go and what to do. The attack would be impossible to dodge at the speed the Accelgor was going, but at the very least he could deflect it. It wouldn't be too difficult to destroy it, actually, he mused as the Bug-type came closer, slapping his palms together. He could just hear Yue inhale sharply when he brought his hands apart again; ice had formed between his palms, and with renewed vigor he lobbed at the Accelgor while sliding smoothly to the side.

A searing pain hit his side as the ball of light grazed him, a few drops of blood splattering out. Zila hissed in pain, pressing one arm to his side and whirling back to face his attacker. The Pokemon's cloak whipped his chest as his opponent blew past him and, as if to mock him, the Pokemon had managed to dodge the ice completely. Zila was left to watch as the Focus Blast dissipated from his opponent's hand.

The Accelgor gave Zila a slight nod, not bad, before ducking and rolling, dark-blue cloak flaring up behind him, as Yue charged forward with Flame Blitz. She missed but, oddly enough, the Accelgor hesitated and did not strike her as she went by. Zila furrowed his brow; he had guessed Yue had some sort of relationship with this person when she had yelled earlier, and now his suspicions were confirmed. For one reason or another, the Accelgor was not willing to attack her.

Yue dug her heel into the ground and spun around to face the foe with a practiced movement, eyes narrowed. "Hikaru," she said steadily, taking a step forward. The ninja-like boy – Hikaru, Zila thought, the name strangely familiar on his tongue – consequently took a step back. "Stop attacking him."

Zila could just make out Hikaru's eyes. They were green, distant and cold, and they narrowed at her words. Instead of listening, he darted forward and reached out with the butt of a knife (which Zila had not even seen him grab), bringing the hilt down smartly on her temple. She eyes rolled up to her head and she folded neatly, unconscious, but Hikaru caught her and, so quickly Zila wondered if he'd imagined it, placed her in a sitting position against a tree a safe distance away.

Then those cold green eyes turned to him, burning with – anticipation, perhaps, he wasn't sure – and the Accelgor surged forward, each foot stepping lightly despite black hiking boots, arms braced in preparation for another Focus Blast. The Zoroark slid one foot back to brace himself and, as soon as Hikaru came close, dodged neatly to the side and attempted a Sucker Punch.

Zila growled in irritation when Hikaru managed to dodge his attack, again; as far as he knew, this Pokemon was definitely the first of many to ever do so. His side burned briefly as he ducked to avoid a lightning-fast punch made by his opponent and he leapt backward, circling his foe. Hikaru's face was devoid of expression and he merely straightened, staring straight at Zila with narrowed eyes.

What is this guy? Zila wondered, all focus on his foe and feeling a slight sense of irritation, his feet pressing lightly on the ground. His speed is bordering on impossibly fast, and his attacks are strong, too. He didn't seem like an experiment like himself, for Zila had never seen him around before; after a moment Zila decided that the Accelgor must train himself for hours every day, seeing as his strength and speed did not come from genetic modifications. In addition, Yue had known and recognized him, which meant he was involved in the Order of Kyurem somehow.

And then, the lightning bolt realization: of course, he's one of her fellow Assassins! He was faintly amused that he hadn't thought of that sooner. He must be one of the best ones they have.

And then he remembered why the name 'Hikaru' had been familiar at all: he was a known bounty hunter who went by the name of 'Shinobi', and he often caught some of the cleverest criminals in the entire region. Zila ground his teeth in frustration. It was no wonder he was so outdone by the Accelgor; not only was he experienced, but he was fast and strong because of it. At this rate, he didn't stand much of a chance.

Hikaru evidently decided Zila had had enough time to think, as his hands came together again. Zila stopped circling and braced himself for yet another Focus Blast attack; but instead, a soft green light came from the Accelgor's palms. Energy Ball, he realized immediately, recognizing the attack as one of Test Subject 51's – and the mere thought of the young boy knotted his stomach.

Throwing those thoughts aside, he focused and prepared to counter with Shadow Ball, firing it at the bluish green energy as soon as Hikaru had released it at him. The two attacks met in a muted explosion, sending both parties flying, Zila landed on the ground with both legs braced while Hikaru neatly flipped backward and landed lightly on his toes. As the dust cleared, a rustling grabbed his attention: Yue, having had leaves and whatnot blown onto her, was stirring and was muttering something darkly under her breath, eyes opening to slits.

Hikaru made use of his distraction and was suddenly right next to him, slashing Zila's arm with the same knife he had seen the Accelgor knock Yue out with. Blood leaked out of the long, shallow cut, and Zila lashed out with a snarl. His fist connected briefly with Hikaru's shoulder, to which the Pokemon followed the movement and left Zila unbalanced; then the ninja had danced out of range, flicking the knife once to rid it of blood before it disappeared up his sleeve with a movement so smooth and swift the Zoroark almost missed it.

If I ever get the chance, I should ask him how he does that, Zila mused absently. The thought made him grin, and Hikaru shifted upon seeing the expression, thinking the Zoroark was planning something.

"Is it hard to move in that cape-thing of yours?" Zila asked, tone light despite the pain in his body. He winced when he tentatively figured the cut on his upper arm, and added, "And that scarf gave you away before."

As he expected, he was met with silence; Hikaru didn't even look the least bit unnerved, instead bending his knees slightly and, unsurprisingly, streaking toward him with an extreme burst of speed, so fast Zila could only see a blur.

This time, though, he was prepared. He wouldn't fall for the same trick twice.

Without hesitation he formed a small-scaled Shadow Ball and threw it on the ground. Leaves, grit and dust flew into the air and the impact Zila half-expected from Hikaru didn't come; instead, it appeared the Accelgor had stopped, temporarily blinded. Zila took the opportunity to bring his palms together and quickly began to feel the ice building up between his hands.

Hikaru was still and unmoving, trying to sense where he was, Zila would guess. He was still not completely unprepared when Zila suddenly was in front of him, but he did not fully dodge as the Zoroark unleashed the Ice Beam attack either. Frost coated his upper leg from where it hit, and the attack slashed a clean hole through the Accelgor's cloak.

He could tell Hikaru was surprised, given by the almost imperceptible raising of one pink eyebrow; no Zoroark could ever learn an Ice-type attack. Of course, Zila was far from the average Zoroark, but the Accelgor hadn't known that. It would have been much easier for me if the attack had actually hit, Zila reflected. Now the element of surprise was gone, and Hikaru would be more cautious.

Indeed, Hikaru came in for close combat once more, knowing that if he kept his distance he could very well be hit by another Ice Beam attack. Zila spun out of the way but unexpectedly a hand clamped tightly over his shoulder. Suddenly, he felt drained, and Hikaru retreated, skipping backwards in order to get out of fighting range.

Giga Drain, Zila realized with disgust, rolling his left shoulder to get the nerve endings in the muscle to work again. As the Zoroark had expected, the Accelgor's wound on his leg had vanished, the skin repairing itself in front of Zila's eyes thanks to the extra energy he had stolen. How completely unfair.

Still, the fight wasn't completely over. It appeared Yue had finally woken up and she was staring at Hikaru, red-orange eyes narrowed. Obviously she was intent on stopping her fellow Assassin, and Zila could use that to his advantage; but for the moment, the task fell solely to him. Now that he had gotten a taste of Hikaru's skill set, it wouldn't be so difficult. Probably.

Hikaru came closer once more. Zila kept his hands apart and instead formed individual ice crystals in each hand, dodging each of Hikaru's attacks and waiting for just the right moment. The ninja-like Pokemon was so good at hand-to-hand combat, though, that it was difficult to keep him from hitting pressure points, which Zila noted he was aiming for. Still, Zila kept on his toes, dodging and deflecting with his upper arms as necessary, gritting his teeth as more blood oozed from the cut on his shoulder. It had already ceased bleeding, as he had been modified to heal faster, but Hikaru had reopened it with a few well-placed blows.

Finally Zila found it: an opening. With a snarl he brought both hands together and shot an Ice Beam attack right at his opponent. He was rewarded with the Accelgor faltering completely, the ice having hit dead-on in the Hikaru's chest. Even the blue sweatshirt the Bug-type wore didn't help shield him, the fabric instead freezing and shattering into pieces. Yue came out of nowhere and caught the pink-haired Pokemon when he fell forward, hand scrabbling at the frost hardening on his front.

"Neat trick," Yue told Zila, settling the Accelgor onto the ground and placing a steadying hand on his back. Her eyes were only slightly unfocused, and her hands were not shaking; Hikaru's blow to her head had not affected her in any way except to knock her out, thankfully. She moved Hikaru's fingers and placed her own on his wound, the frost melting as soon as her warmer fingertips touched his skin. "I didn't know Zoroarks could learn Ice Beam."

"None can," Zila said automatically. When Yue gave him a dry look he shrugged and said, "Well, except me."

She rolled her eyes, a surprisingly elegant movement, and looked back at Hikaru. "You know, you wouldn't be like this if you had actually listened to me the first time," she said in a joking tone. Hikaru did not reply, and she sighed.

"Who is he?" Zila asked, curious. "I mean, he's an Assassin, obviously, and his name is Hikaru, and he's a bounty hunter, but… oh. I guess I know all there is to it, then," he said with a grin when Yue then proceeded to shoot him a wry look. "Why was he attacking me?"

"One: you're an escaped experiment. Two: you killed a fellow Test Subject. And three: you have taken an Assassin hostage," Yue said as she took her hand away, the ice having melted from the other Assassin's body. Zila opened his mouth, ready to complain that she had helped kill 51 and since when had he taken her hostage, but she butted in and said, "At least, that's what they probably told Hikaru."

Hikaru nodded assent, hand pressed where Zila had nailed him with an Ice Beam. "You can't kill him," Yue told him, "because he saved my life. I owe that much to him."

Zila watched, interested, as Hikaru's cold eyes widened and he looked at Yue, as if seeking confirmation. She nodded once and he let out an audible sigh through the pink bandages that covered his mouth. Then he made an attempt to stand, which he accomplished with some of Yue's help, arm slung over her shoulder, hand still pressed against his chest.

Zila found he did not like the fact Hikaru was close to Yue and found himself mildly amused at the thought of jealousy. Never had he considered he would ever be jealous. Then again, Yue was his only friend, and in one way or another, he had begun to think of himself as also her only friend. Obviously that was delusional; he had just never really thought about it much. "Is he going to help us?" Zila asked, knowing Hikaru wouldn't reply to his query and instead directing it at Yue.

Yue looked over at Hikaru. When the pink-haired boy nodded she looked back and said, "I think so."

There was a shout from far away, and Hikaru tiredly slid his arm from Yue's shoulder and fished out what appeared to be a diary from his pocket. He flipped it open and scribbled something in it with a pen (that had appeared out of nowhere, per usual), showing it to both Zila and Yue at the same time. In slightly messy, curly handwriting, it read: I was leading a party of Warriors of Regigigas. We were supposed to kill Test Subject 42.

"We can't go back," Yue told him, and Hikaru raised an eyebrow, silently asking for an explanation.

"We may have killed another Test Subject," Zila said, and Hikaru, after a few moments, shook his head slightly before giving a grudging nod of understanding.

"You think we can lose them?" Yue asked the Accelgor, and he nodded, grimacing as he gingerly poked at his chest; the ice, even though Yue had kindly melted it for him, had left a mark, and Zila knew that as a Bug-type he was especially sensitive. "We better hurry. It sounds like they're close."

"But we could take them, right?" Zila asked, frowning. He added as an afterthought, as Hikaru nodded in agreement, "It might be better that way."

"We are not killing nor hurting them." Yue's voice booked no argument, and Zila wisely chose to remain silent while Hikaru showed no emotion on his face or in his body language. "Let's go. Hikaru, you know these parts better than I do; you lead."

The Accelgor nodded once more and turned on his heel, swiftly vanishing into the foliage despite his wound. Yue was right behind him, Zila on her tail, and the Zoroark could barely see her as they rushed through the trees.

He sighed inwardly and increased his pace, side burning, cut on his arm stinging. It seemed the day was not over quite yet.

The four traveled warily, each close behind the other in a line, footsteps light, breathing inaudible, movements smooth and fluid and flowing. They were blending into the scenery with such grace one could say they were the epitome of silence.

Then Xander stepped on a twig and, with a sharp crack, the spell was broken.

"Sorry," he muttered when three pairs of eyes, one blue, one green, one red, swiveled to glare at him. He complained, albeit under his breath, "I wouldn't have this problem if I were flying, you know."

"Shut up and keep walking," Rein snapped while looking forward again, and with a sigh Xander gingerly picked his foot up and brought it down again. Satisfied with the noise, or rather, the lack thereof, he began to move forward, taking his place at the end of the line behind Vee.

There was silence once more for a few long minutes; then a leaf crunched and Xander called apologetically, "Sorry."

Rein muttered something under her breath, only audible to Nero, whose sole reaction was the slightest shrug that the Mightyena couldn't even see. Vee rolled her eyes and floated after the Gallade once he started moving again, occasionally lazily flipping herself in the air, hands behind her head.

When Xander again crunched on something Rein seemed ready to explode. But instead, she froze and let out something that sounded like a choked gasp rather than the screaming outburst the Shedinja had been expecting. Nero bumped into the Speaker while Vee ran into him, and the Gallade's sharp shoulder blade practically cut Vee's face as she stumbled back, rubbing her fingers against her cheeks. Xander, for his part, did not run into her, instead placing a bracing hand on her back to steady her. She nodded in thanks, opening her jaw experimentally a few times before she spoke.

"What is it?" Nero naturally didn't respond. She then popped her head over his shoulder, a challenge considering her height of 5'4'', though not really a feat because she could float, and this time asked Rein, "What is it?"

Rein was silent for a long moment, and Vee wondered if she should repeat the question. She was about to when the Mightyena said tightly, "See for yourself."

Two of four Riders stepped from behind the Speaker of Rayquaza and the tall Gallade behind her and looked over the bluff. None of them spoke for a very long moment; then Vee, her voice carefully controlled, said quietly, "Oh, Arceus."

"Those bastards," Xander hissed, muscles tense and body coiled, ready to spring into action. Nero did not have such a visible reaction, but Vee could see a muscle pull in his neck and his visible eye narrow, the dark blue iris hard as stone. For him, that was definitely something, and Vee returned her gaze to the scene spanning below.

In front of them was grassland covered in blood and bodies. Moans filled the air, along with weeps and wails echoing throughout the field. A small crew of Pokemon shuffled along with a wagon of sorts, a hardened party from a nearby village no doubt, stopping at soldiers and either helping them on board or – Vee stared hard as a young boy, who looked no older than twelve, stooped down and cut one man's throat with his sharp claws, undoubtedly giving him a quick, painless death when he would've died slowly. They were giving mercy killings and tending to the wounded.

It was rare for people to do so, and Vee felt a brief flash of gratitude for that small crew of Pokemon as she retreated to hide behind Nero's tall frame. Her green eyes fluttered shut, but the scene of blood and bodies and destruction filled her vision and they snapped open again. She let out a quiet, defeated sigh, listlessly running her fingers through her hair.

At the sound Nero turned, looking down at the blonde in front of him with what could be described as a gentle look in his eye (he would, however, deny this to no end) while Xander gently took Rein's shoulders in his hands and nudged her away. The Mightyena's eyes burned with fiery passion but she uttered not a sound, her feet dragging and her mouth a thin line as Xander guided her along. Nero and Vee followed, quiet and somber, and Vee took Nero's calm as her own to ease the turmoil that was her emotions.

That is what we have to prevent, she thought, hugging herself as she is what is so terrible at war. The haunted look on the small group's faces came into mind, doing what they could for the Pokemon wounded – regardless of religion. The world needed more people like that, Vee was sure, people who were accepting of anything and settled petty arguments peacefully.

She carefully tucked the image out of her head – and instead the battlefield came into view. This time Nero placed a hand on her shoulder, noticing her fingers were squeezing her arms so tightly her knuckles were white, and murmured the best thing anyone could possibly say: "You're not alone."

She flashed him a brief smile before spreading her fingers out in front of her and observing them, wondering with morbid curiosity if they would ever be coated with blood.

Vee wouldn't deny that she liked a good fight. She enjoyed the rush that came along when her body moved in perfect motion, dodging or deflecting or punching or kicking, feeling powerful, feeling strong, feeling alive. But she had never hurt someone beyond a black eye, and she could never bring herself to knock someone else unless absolutely necessary. She wasn't an assassin or a killer; never had been, never could be.

That was why it was Xander rather than her who actually slit the previous Speaker of Kyurem's throat those few days ago.

Nero's hand remained on her shoulder, a steady warmth, and for once she placed her feet on the ground rather than floating along. She did not have the highest physical endurance, thus why she avoided doing so as much as possible; but now she felt the need to be like the others, to feel that sense of belonging that the tall, dark Gallade next to her assured was there.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and this time, an image of her fellow Riders came to mind. A small smile graced her lips as her eyes opened once more. Yes, she wasn't alone, not anymore, and never would she forget it.

"Ow! That actually hurt that time, Spark!"

"I didn't have time to grab the proper sheath when I took this, okay?" The brunette across from him glared, running her fingers over the worn scabbard with what could be described as reverence. "Besides, I didn't even cut you!"

The Minccino across from her rubbed his shoulder, a small scowl on his face. His eyes flashed once, matching the solid steel color of his hair, and he snapped at her, "You know I'm not as strong as you, you idiot Garchomp. Whenever you think you're hitting 'gently', it always ends in a bruise!"

"Yeah, really, Spark, you should just put the sword away now, before Silver gets hurt," another girl said, a small smile on her face. The expression matched her demure amber eyes perfectly.

Spark stuck her tongue at both of them before clipping the worn scabbard to her tan sweatpants. "I was using the flat of the blade, Pepper," she said in a half-hearted protest, reaching back to tie her waist-long brown hair into a ponytail. She did this with a few quick, practiced movements, her green eyes narrowed in concentration. She added, as soon as she was done, "I didn't hit that hard. It couldn't have hurt that much."

"It still did," the boy grumbled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black jeans. His tail, the gray fur spiked in some sort of pattern that the Minccino thought was cool, swished gently from side to side as he muttered, "Why do you even need to use your dad's sword for anything?"

"Well, he's dead, so I might as well," Spark said offhandedly, and both Silver and Pepper could tell she was forcing her voice to be light and casual. Then she said more quietly, "Besides, I want to use it to help end the war, you know?"

Pepper nodded, a few frizzy blond hairs breaking free of the hair tie pulling them back from her freckled face. "Yeah," she said. "I never really understand why religion is so important. Like, even though I'm an Electivire and I come from Sinnoh, does it matter that I serve Rayquaza as my deity?"

"And me, 'cause I serve Mew," Spark agreed.

"Or me, because I serve Celebi," Silver said, running his fingers through the red streaks in his hair. The sixteen year-old had been hunched over, giving him the impression he was shorter than he already was, but he straightened to his short 4'10'' as he spoke. "Though now that I think about it, I haven't seen my Speaker for quite a while…"

Spark shook her head, her ponytail swishing from one direction to the other. "The Speaker of Mew hasn't been to any of the Sunday services for at least four weeks, too." She focused her green eyes on Pepper's amber ones. "How about the Speaker of Rayquaza?"

Pepper shrugged. "She was here quite recently, actually – yesterday afternoon's service. First time I've seen her in a while. But I think she left again."

"Where do you think they go all the time?" Silver asked the two at large, a frown settling on his face.

There was a silence. Then Pepper said timidly, "Actually, yesterday I was in the Temple of Rayquaza because I forgot something, and I heard some people talking in the back room… you know, the one where the priests take – breaks or something, I dunno, whatever they do in there."

Spark opened her mouth and Silver warned, "If you're going to say anything dirty, save it." She grinned and didn't say a word. The Minccino turned to Pepper and asked, "What were they discussing?"

Here Pepper gestured for her friends to come closer, and they obliged. She bent down slightly to reach Silver's height, Spark following the movement, and whispered, "The Speaker of Rayquaza had friends there, and they were all polite, you know, like you're supposed to be - but she told them to relax. You know how she is at services, right?"

"Stiff and moody and uppity and annoying," Spark muttered, and Pepper looked visibly offended. Silver then stopped the blonde from shocking her, batting her hand away and muttering something along the lines "it's not worth it".

"She's a stickler for rules," the thirteen year-old said after a pregnant pause, and Spark had the grace to look guilty. "And she told them to relax, and I'm not sure but I think one of them called her by her first name. Which means these were really close friends, you know?"

"Yeah, and so what does that mean?" Spark asked, eyes narrowed. Pepper sighed.

"It means, Spark," Silver said with exaggerated patience, "that she knew these people well. And if she knew them well, they probably had a hand in her constant journeys. Or at least, I'm pretty sure that's what Pepper's thinking."

The other girl nodded and then said, flushing a little, "I wasn't supposed to be there, actually, but I was out back by the window and I couldn't help but listen."

"Whatever." When Pepper did not immediately continue Spark snapped, "Go on and tell us the rest already!"

Here the chubby blonde looked unsure of herself, fingers pulling at the hem of her yellow-striped black T-shirt, but at the pleading looks of her friends she continued and finished, "She said something like 'we do what the Flame Riders do best'. And then later more voices said, 'we intervene'."

There was a long, pervading silence. Then Silver snorted, his next words laced with contempt. "The Flame Riders haven't made an appearance in centuries; I doubt they exist. You must've heard the wrong thing." Pepper looked doubtful but didn't respond.

"The Flame Riders, though," Spark said after a moment. "What if they did exist?" Suddenly the brunette's green eyes were shining. "Just think about it, guys. If we could join up with them, we could help them stop the war!"

"But they don't exist! No one has seen them for years!" Silver protested, kicking the grass below his feet with a white tennis shoe, while simultaneously crossing his arms over his sleeveless silver shirt. "Pepper had to have misheard, Spark. It's just not possible."

Spark gave him a long, level look, in which he returned coolly despite the younger girl being much taller than him. After a moment she asked quietly, "But what if they do exist, Silver?"

"It is a chance of a lifetime," Pepper agreed, tapping her fingers on ripped jeans. She added, "We don't even have to join them – I mean, we could just find them and ask them how we can help, maybe. You know?"

"I'm not sure if I want to help," Silver muttered, and both Spark and Pepper turned shocked gazes on him. He explained hurriedly, before they could protest, "War isn't pretty. Here in Twinleaf there hasn't been any fighting - the Speakers of Mew, Celebi and Rayquaza see to that, as their Temples are situated near here."

Spark rolled her eyes. "Your point?"

Silver ignored her. "If we go out, we'll see lots of that," he said while pointing to the red symbol painted on Spark's white shirt. The Garchomp looked down while Pepper shivered: on the brunette's shirt was the Kanji symbol for death. "Lots of blood, lots of violence, lots of death. That's why I'd almost prefer to stay here, you know?"

Pause. "Well, yeah," Spark said a moment later, but her friends could tell some of the wind had been taken out of her sails. The brunette reached back to scratch her neck as she murmured, "But I don't want to stay here and feel useless all the time."

"You're only fourteen," Silver pointed out. He turned to Pepper. "You're only thirteen. If you don't mind my saying so, that's awfully young to be seeing that sort of thing."

"You're only sixteen," Pepper pointed out. Then she thought about it. "You're the oldest kid in Twinleaf, and in Sandgem too, now that I think about it. It must be annoying to only have friends who are younger than you."

"Seeing as I've never had a friend who was older, I can't quite say," the silver-haired Minccino replied. "And you have to remember that I'm the oldest because of these damned wars. Spark, are you sure you want to follow them?"

The girl nodded, expression somber. "Yes."

"Pepper?"

"I'll come," the Electivire said immediately, looking down at her black combat boots. "We have nothing to lose."

"Except your life." And your innocence, Silver thought with a defeated sigh. "I guess I'll be coming along to look after you. If we told our parents, that would be what they would want, anyway, me along to watch you as always."

"They wouldn't want us to go," Pepper corrected. But then she grinned and said savagely, in a rare, completely out-of-character way, "Good thing none of us have any."

"I like how you think, girl," Spark said approvingly, and she and Pepper bumped fists. The two turned to Silver, who looked faintly amused, and the Garchomp asked him, "When can we leave?"

"As soon as we can," Silver responded, beginning the short journey to the orphanage that housed the two girls. They bounded after him as he said, with concealed anxiety, "And by that, I mean as soon as we pack."

Oriole let the papers fall to the desk's surface with a sigh, light brown tail waving slowly in a rhythmic pattern behind her. Her head fell in the crook of her elbow, her blue Choice Scarf settling to cover the bottom half of her face.

So far, her rise to leadership had done nothing but provoke strife, chaos and havoc - not going as she had hoped or planned. The Pokémon here were not obeying her, even though her decision of avoiding conflict was the right one (obviously – anyone with brains knew that), and she had to say that she hated it. Because she couldn't do what she wanted without angering others, she had to go with what the crowd wanted. And they didn't want to the right thing, for Arceus' sake; was everyone in this Order so blind to mistake the truth for lies, even when it was right in front of them?

It wasn't that she wasn't used to people ignoring her – she was young and 'inexperienced', after all – but that didn't mean she had to like or put up with it. Of course, it was one thing to not like something and another to actually do something about it. Who knew what terrible things would befall her if she went along and slapped the Speaker of Landorus in the face. She'd probably get beheaded or something. Not that that would ever happen, of course, as Oriole was far too clever for them.

Still, this was not going as she had hoped. Losses within the ranks of the Swords of Cobalion and Terrakion, and Verizion and Keldeo now that she thought about it, had risen to drastic heights, even with the aid of the fire and lightning summoned by the Priests and Priestesses or Zekrom and Reshiram. The Healers of Landorus were running on the last of their energy tending to the wounded. Many of the Assassins of Meloetta were on missions or compromised. And Oriole was not willing to let Warriors of Genesect go out on the battlefield. If they did, all hell would break loose.

Oriole didn't hate responsibility, but she had never been responsible for the lives of so many. And Kyurem be damned if she led all of her Servants to death.

There was a knock on the door, and Oriole lifted her head, settled herself on her chair, and said coldly, "Come in."

The small Pokémon entered quietly and Oriole gave him the pretense that she was working, holding a paper up as if she were reading it and drumming her fingers on the table. "What is it now," the Speaker of Victini snapped, seeing that it was the Speaker of Genesect, again.

"Speaker," the Golett said, and Oriole mouthed along with the words he said next, so often had he repeated them: "I respectfully request that you consider sending in the Warriors of Genesect. We could annihilate the Servants of Arceus in an instant."

"Hm, let me consider it, then," Oriole replied icily. A moment later, she said, "Considered and rejected. Get out of my sight."

The Golett bowed, murmuring, "Of course, Speaker," and retreated quietly out of the room. As soon as the door closed, Oriole turned, pressed her face to the back of her chair and screamed her frustration.

No one was listening to her. No one thought she knew best. No one thought she was good enough for the job. And nothing – nothing at all! – was going to plan. She hated when nothing went to plan.

Damn it, Kyurem, she thought furiously, turning back round and drawing the hood of her gray cloak over her face. You better pick a new Speaker soon, because otherwise this whole Order is going to go down in flames.

Credits go where credits are due. In order of appearance:

Zila belongs to TheGlaceonFanatic.

Yue belongs to xiLovePandas.

Hikaru belongs to Nightfall-sensei.

Vee is mine.

Nero belongs to Apostle of Regeneration.

Xander belongs to AtmosBreak

Rein belongs to Silverdragon98.

Spark belongs to Tisuro.

Pepper belongs to Whismur Publishing House.

Silver belongs to BalancedHex1232.

Oriole belongs to SnowKiter.