Chapter XI: Equilibrium

"I worry for this great nation. Our Emperor continues to talk about this 'Ascension Programme' and how he has the protection of so-called 'Benefactors'. Albeit I refuse to believe it, his own words imply heavily that our state's sovereignty has been sold to external entities. If this were true … someone must take matters into their own hands."

—Excerpt from Governor Marius Alakazam's speech at the Imperial Council.

Imperial Palace – Urbe

The ministers had reconvened at nine-thirty that morning. Since then, the sky outside the vast double-paned windows had turned gloomy and overcast, denying the sun any chance to shed its life. There would be few people out on the streets of Urbe, Adrian thought. The council room became just as somber; the elaborate golden chandelier dangling perilously overhead was lit only at dawn.

Diverting his gaze from the rambling Sceptile sitting opposite him, the Dragonite let out a small sigh, struggling to find enough concentration to absorb every word. His eyes travelled downwards by themselves. There were five pokémon gauging his reaction—all hand-picked ministers, all sitting around a table with him at its forefront. Currently the Minister of Agriculture—a tall and frail-looking Sceptile—was reading off endless statistics about food production for the month. In a way, Adrian simultaneously listened and didn't listen. One moment his mind reflected on the possible ramifications of declining wheat production, and the very next moment he'd already drifted off to simpler times, spent running down the palace halls, laughing, devoid of harrowing duties.

"… No droughts have taken place this year, my lord. The blame for the recent decline of agricultural output can only be attributed to war," the Sceptile went on, hunching over to read from his papers, "In fact, nearly forty percent of the north's farmers have been conscripted for military service, and as such their fields remain abandoned. The food supply in the provinces of Basilea and Aesernia remains particularly worrying. On a positive note, however, reports show a healthy harvest in the rest of our realm, where the main issue remains that of transportation—"

Adrian's paw tapped idly at the mohogany table, cutting his advisor short. "That's quite enough of that. We do not have all day. There are more pressing matters to discuss."

The minister seemed intended to add something for a moment, looking vaguely offended, but nodded wordlessly nevertheless.

Adrian came dangerously close to letting out a sigh of relief when silence reigned once again. It allowed him to consolidate his attention. Wind began howling outside the windows. Something throbbed from within his head, but he largely managed to ignore it. Taking a deep breath to brace himself for what was to come, his eyes turned towards the youngest pokémon in the room: a Lucario, standing as representative of the Imperial Army in lieu of Sycorax, who had left Urbe just a few days prior.

Let's just get on with this, he swallowed unconsciously.

"Colonel, would you kindly explain to us how the war effort is going?"

The Lucario bit his lower lip briefly, feeling every pair of eyes in the room shift to him. However, he remained perfectly still in his seat.

"Of course. To put it bluntly, Your Highness, the situation at the front has not changed," the colonel drew imaginary lines along the map, "All along the lines towns are constantly exchanging hands, and every offensive comes at a murderous price in casualties. Only a handful of army groups have achieved their full objectives. Further south, however, the town of Sperantia Nova has reportedly been pillaged and burnt to the ground, though an expeditionary force sent to investigate found no trace of hostiles."

Adrian leant forward to inspect the map. The town lay well away from the front lines. Yet, a different question pressed on him: was this 'expeditionary force' the one he had personally sent out on a mission? It had to have been. Feeling his heartbeat flutter, he immediately expelled those thoughts and assumed a stern expression.

"How did the enemy reach this deep into our territory? Do we not have scouting teams?" Adrian narrowed his eyes, fiddling with his claws.

"We do, Your Majesty. I am just as confused as my colleagues as to how they could have travelled so far while remaining undetected. Reports seem to indicate that they may have exploited a local spacial anomaly—or mystery dungeon, as the civilians say."

Adrian sat back against his chair. Not only that, but they had never stopped multiplying. Every other month he'd wake up to news of a new anomaly being discovered. Sooner or later, he thought grimly, one will spontaneously ingest the Imperial Palace. All a matter of time.

My father didn't have to deal with this madness…

"Tell me, Colonel. What exactly do our troops lack?" Adrian asked the question that had been building up inside him, grinding his teeth together, "Morale? Determination? Courage?"

"My lord, I assure you our troops fight courageously. The main issue is that none of us know what the enemy wants, or even who they are. Our forces are exhausted. After two years of continuous fighting, we have yet to figure out what it is that pushes them to fight—their goals."

"They have no goals," a wrinkly Alakazam chimed in, wagging a single finger in the air, "Only the destruction of civilisation! That is why they rape and plunder. That is why they use portal storms to destabilise our populace before striking."

Adrian could not help but raise an eyebrow. "That is a very bold statement, senator. What proof do you have?"

"Do you truly believe it's a coincidence that these weather anomalies we call 'portal storms' began to appear alongside the first border raids? Of course the Scum are using them as weapons! Stop being so naive!"

The Dragonite sent a look of veiled antipathy toward the Governor of Urbe Province. Such office did not even exist barely two years prior—filled automatically by the emperor—but mounting preoccupations had led him to appoint the elderly senator in hopes of relieving some administrative burden. Such a terrible lapse of judgment!

"Actually, my lord, there has been a peculiar development," the Lucario continued, tapping a particular spot on the map, "It happened five days ago, just west of Aquisgranam. The XI and VII Legions, led by general Varus, have been successfully besieging a large enemy force trapped between our lines and the Danubius river. It would appear that on one occasion a small detachment of barbarians walked to our encampment and attempted to negotiate a cessation of hostilities. However, communication was extremely difficult for our troops, and in the end no side could make their demands clear."

He blinked. Somehow, the enemy suddenly made less sense than it did previously.

So … they do have goals? Perhaps they are not simple brutes after all, he clawed at his chin thoughtlessly, But why migrate an entire people? Sure, I imagine the Wasteland is a cold, harsh place, but it does not explain why an entire people migrated after living there for hundreds of years. Something must have happened there. But what? Ugh, so many questions…

"General Varus seeks to press on their gains via an all-out assault. For this, he has requested five thousand soldiers and forty more catapults."

"What? Has the general gone mad? I just approved further reinforcements for his legion two weeks ago!"

The Lucario averted his gaze momentarily. "You see, my emperor, there have been issues. The governor of Aesernia has issued the arriving legions conflicting orders; she also has begun shuffling troops around on assignments with Civil Protection and generally impedes their deployment."

The Alakazam grinned subtly, seizing the moment to rise on his feet. "Well said! Since we are on the matter, Hadrianus, your nonchalance is no longer acceptable. Governor Ariel gets away with everything: increasing food prices without imperial consent, commandeering legionaries for Civil Protection, and generally treating the city as her own personal fief. And you—" he pointed an accusatory finger,"—have done nothing!"

He figured he ought to have felt a plethora of emotions. He figured he ought to have felt rage at being so blatantly disrespected—him, the emperor!—and even having his birth name tossed about like vermin. (Years had passed since anyone last referred to him by name; the memory was still vivid). He figured he ought to have defended his honour before all the other ministers. Instead, a lump obstructed his throat.

"… She raised food prices?"

A sense of helplessness took hold of Adrian. No longer did his eyes watch any particular minister, staring into oblivion. Perhaps it was no use trying. After all, he reasoned, the matter should have ended long ago. To persecute his conscience, saddle his thoughts with angst—nothing short of foolishness.

For a moment—he could see quite clearly—her face materialised in his consciousness; her embrace beckoned. 'Won't you come?' she'd say. She would place her hands on his cheeks; she would kiss his cheek, his nose, until all else boiled away…

The sky was starting to turn blue. No, that thought held no place now. She was gone, just like the rest of them.

Aesernia

After the last major aftershock subsided, Team Phalanx discovered that returning to Camp Tempest would not be easy. A regime of panic had taken hold of the streets, as masses of proles fearful of crumbling ceilings flushed down onto the pavement much like a colony of ants. Indeed, the three of them were forced to divert path multiple times, twisting and snaking past streets clogged with debris and pokémon trying to dig through it.

Eventually Flame gave up on attempting to triangulate their current position, and confided in his teammates' knowledge of the town to navigate. The living stream of proles flowing around him forced his eyes glued to Alice and Gaius, fearful of losing sight of them, and meant he could only steal a few glances. Perhaps half the street's buildings paraded significant damage. Two lacked a ground floor entirely. Even those that looked mostly intact still showed traces of distress, like collapsed balconies or cracked cement.

"My god…" he breathed, feeling fatigue creep into his legs.

At some point, he stopped surveying the damage and focused solely on following the Dragonair and Grovyle in front of him.

That soon proved unnecessary, however, for before them lay an enraged mob so thick that Flame could not discern where it ended. The greater mob seemed to concentrate their attention toward a wall—there! Now he remembered: this was Ariel's villa. There were dozens upon dozens of proles crying profanities and collectively pushing against the heavy steel gates.

Although Flame held no clue as to what possibly could have sparked such disorder, a simple look around the area revealed everything he needed to know. Whilst the great walls and the magnificent villa within (only a small sliver of the roof could be spotted) both stood unscathed, scarcely three hundred metres away the entire side of an insula had morphed into a shapeless pile of rubble. Before long, a quadret of Bisharps rushed to the fore of the mob and began pushing and slashing relentlessly at anything in their way. The attack only drove more pokémon to join the fray, and more guards to protect the beleaguered gates.

"I knew it—I knew it would happen!" Gaius said, his voice somewhere in between excitement and concern, "It was only a matter of time. Now they're going to be at her throat until she comes out."

Alice looked on with uneasiness. "Arceus, this is going to end in a bloodshed. We need to get away."

"But … what about the food rations?" Flame disputed, "That's what we came here for!"

A conflicted frown crossed Alice's face. "Too much confusion. There's no time. Let's pray we can find those legionaries later."

He could only sigh internally. Such was fate, he thought; time and effort tossed to the wind, and the problem of securing food had not diminished one bit. As if the earthquake could sense their misery!

But the crowd left no time for debate. As if in an elaborate dance, flaring commoners began responding with streams of fire, water, electricity shot in seemingly uncoordinated directions, and the unfeeling guards only lashed out more savagely. Flame spotted more than a few bloodied faces.

There was a wordless consensus between Team Phalanx. The three drifted toward the very side of the road, a former pavement now strewn entirely with chunks of rubble—grand and tiny.

"Hide your badges. Try to slip through unnoticed," Alice whispered with almost shut lips.

Instinctively Flame reached down for his bag, only to remember that he had none.

That's what I deserve for being so careless yesterday, Flame snarled at himself, hopping briskly along the larger fragments of stone and mortar, I really, really need to get another bag next time we head outside town. No sense in buying one new—not anymore.

To his side, he saw Gaius flip his bag around so that the Civil Protection badge pressed against his body. As far as Alice was concerned, she was visibly unable to remove the object without being forced to halt altogether and meddle carefully with her tail tip. Instead he detached it and tossed it in her bag without much thought, receiving a grateful nod in exchange. Yet, even such provision did not fully quell his fears—for was it not painfully obvious? Civilians never carried bags on them; whether out of lack of necessity, or the price, he didn't know. Moreover, he thought—scenarios already played out in his deluded brain—he'd never seen a group of multiple, radically different species of pokémon travel together as one.

No clue seemed to indicate that the mob directed its rage against Civil Protection as an extension of Ariel's rule, yet such worry came quite naturally. Had anyone seen them, they would doubtless be lynched on the spot.

A passing glance revealed the cordon of guards unravelling before the crowd's fury. One by one they retreated behind the gates through a slim opening, shut again before any prole could force their way through.

In less time than he processed, Team Phalanx pushed aside the last few strands of pokémon who blockaded their advance. Nobody appeared to neither notice nor care about three officers scrambling off in a hurry.

A smile took over Flame's lips once they strayed at comfortable distance from the roaring crowd. It did not last. Thoughts were swirling in his head violently: all the rubble, all the pokémon wandering aimlessly—what actually did happen? For now, he simply channelled his concentration into running.

"Come on, it'll be safer once we're there," Alice breathed heavily as they dashed uphill, Camp Tempest now partly visible to their eyes.

"Any idea what's going to happen now?" Gaius wondered aloud.

"I—no," Flame replied frankly, "Maybe they'll have us dig through the rubble in search of survivors. Depends on whether Ariel can even step outside her home."

"Wasn't she around here this morning?" Alice tossed a glance at her teammates, "She's always at the Camp at midday, right?"

"Probably," Gaius shrugged, "Don't know what to hope for. Either the crowd maims her, or she comes home to find a pile of ashes. Both would spell trouble for us."

"… and we still don't have a dinner," Flame added in a murmur, as though unwilling to remind such sombering fact.

The Grovyle heaved quietly, shaking his head. "Things just keep getting better, don't they?"

They entered Camp Tempest in all-out sprint, and stopped momentarily to scan the horizon. . Patches of mud persisted all over. Out of all concrete buildings in sight, only one presented wounds graver than shattered windows. A quick glance dispelled their fears that something had happened to the barracks tent complex. Despite that, officers dashed about in a disordered panic, pushing and shouting and heading off in every direction.

Before they could elaborate what was happening, a hurried Dewott collided with Flame's body in the midst of a sprint and hurled both pokémon to the ground—him, on soft grass; the Dewott in a pool of mud. A few drops splashed over to his forearm. For a moment he contemplated whether to feel puzzled that luck did not abandon him. Then he was on his feet, eyes wide.

"Oh, apologies, s-sir—"

The officer lifted himself slowly, fur dripping with the horrid liquid, eyes fiery. "Hey! What are you three even doing, standing around?"

"I … we're—"

The otter ran his paw over his fur, scrubbing as much sludge off as possible, deeming them unworthy of eye contact. "Didn't you get the memo? Ariel's just convened an urgent meeting of Task Force Aegis. She wants every last person to move their arse."

"Hold on—she's here?" Alice inquired, "She's alive?"

"Yes, of course. Get moving, now!" it nearly growled, beginning to jog away.

"Uh, okay," Flame said, sensing that there wouldn't be time for a conversation, "Where, exactly?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know? Just follow everyone else!" the water-type shouted as his distant voice drowned beneath a general buzz that seemed to envelop the whole town.

Just like that—faster than one's eyes could blink—Aesernia was gone. A particular, tentatively optimistic part of his intellect whispered that all hope was not lost; it remained only that, an attempt. Albeit one could reason that only around a quarter of the total structures had been reduced to ruins (all visual statistics) there hung a certain sentiment in the air, one which announced that this state of affairs would not disappear any time in the foreseeable future.

And yet, as Flame sat cross-legged on that humid patch of grass, surrounded by his priceless comrades, a kind of palpable guilt irrupted in his system: he ought to have felt worse, it barked. Do you not value your own home? Perhaps his affection for this place had simply not matured fully, for only a week or so had passed since that faithful awakening. Or perhaps it was that he felt something akin to suffocation.

He interrupted that stream of thought to gaze around himself again. Following the general movement of the Camp eventually led them to the training fields, the very same he and Alice had sparred just the day afore, where a sizeable contingent of pokémon already sat. Since then, they picked a spot in the grass and plopped themselves down, waiting. Ariel did not arrive. Only a larger and larger stream of officers, encircling their spot, occupying more and more square metres until the entire field now bristled with creatures. The eye would physically strain attempting to merely guess at the number. Most of them appeared to either be murmuring to one another, crying openly, or quietly rummaging through their bags.

"Wow…" Flame said for the third time as he twisted his head round to see better, "This is … a lot … of pokémon. I didn't even know Civil Protection was this big."

Alice did not speak immediately from her coils; he could tell something weighed on her mind as well."Don't take my word for it, but I believe it stood at roughly seven-hundred members when I joined," she said quietly, "You rarely ever see everybody in the Camp all at once."

"I hope we get this over with soon," Gaius bemoaned, shifting uncomfortably in the little space available, "The heat is too much. I think I'm gonna dehydrate if I don't drink something soon."

Upon careful inspection, Flame noticed that in fact both Alice and Gaius were sweating profously, though the former did a better job of not broadcasting it publically. In truth, he wouldn't have been able to notice it alone, but there indeed was a considerable blanket of torrid air engulfing the field. It must have been due to the sheer number of creatures congregated in one spot. If anything, though, the warmth felt oddly soothing on his scales.

One positive perk of his body was that he never quite suffered the changing of the seasons; while an ice-type might glee in winter and feel miserable come midsummer, neither the scorching heat nor the cold, snowy nights particularly fazed him.

Rain, of course, was a different issue altogether; one could not obtain everything in life.

"Cut that grin, Flame," Gaius shot back, "It's not like you're helping, either."

"What? I can't help it," he half-smiled back, fiddling with his tailtip to avoid it brushing with any unsuspecting back.

Approximately thirty seconds after he said that, a near-sounding voice broke into all-out crying.

Flame sighed. The wait was beginning to take a toll on him, too. Perhaps twenty-five minutes had passed in cramped and uncomfortable positions. Although he did not suffer much from temperature, having dozens upon dozens of pokémon surround him and clamp down on his precious breathing space did naught to make things bearable.

Maybe I should stop whining for once, he thought, Gaius and Alice have it even worse than me—and I still act like it's the end of the world.

Why those two wished to keep him close puzzled him. But it warmed his heart, all the same. Maybe they didn't wish for him to turn any warmer right now.

Suddenly, following what felt like hours but likely amounted to less, something upset the swathes of officers. A general murmur arose. Flame attempted in vain to stretch himself up to identify the subject of their attention, likely Ariel. Nothing. To shift his knees would have meant collision with a large Heracross sitting just ahead; to stand up was unthinkable.

He was about to say something, but bit his tongue when he noticed silence swallowed the whole plateau. Even those still in tears bit back louder sobs. All made sense when his eyes spotted the Haxorus' figure in between two officers in front of him. More sightings followed in a semi-circle, until she reached a podium-like platform on one end of the crowd. Her mean-looking legionary escort did not attempt to conceal. Among those was a peculiar form: some metallic purple insectoid—the familiarity with Scizor was undeniable, minus the pincers—with an oversized cannon attached on its back.

Next to him, Alice gasped loudly. "Oh my goodness—Flame, do you see that?"

Attempting to ignore the half-dozen pokémon who stared at them for infringing the unspoken moratorium on noise, he turned to her. "The weird purple thing? Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"That is Sycorax, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Army. Legend goes he was gifted by the gods to our current emperor. Normally you would never find him outside Urbe. What is he doing next to Ariel…?"

He looked more attently, or at least as much as distance permitted. Alice continued referring to the thing as 'he', but he could spot no traits distinguishing either maleness or femininity.

The Haxorus took one step forth.

Now his eyes were fixated on her, much like everybody else's. Even from this distance, she did not look very pleased, eyes almost torpid. Oh, what must that angry mob storming her gates be thinking?

"First things first, let's get the obvious out of the way," Ariel began, voice thundering against dead silence, "Approximately five hours and thirty-seven minutes ago, an earthquake ripped through the province. Early estimates rank it as six-point-five on the Diglett scale."

No voice dared reveal itself in the audience. A thousand eyes stared, brimming with hope and fear.

Ariel paced back and forth on stage, paws held behind her back."Thankfully, most of the damage here appears to be concentrated in the lower residential areas; as you can see, Camp Tempest itself has remained mostly unscathed."

Though imperceptible, faint whispers arose from the crowd. Flame blinked. How that constituted good news escaped him entirely.

Moreover, there lay some vague element of strangeness in their commander's demeanour, at least in his eyes. She seemed quite restrained in both words and stance, casting glances behind her back at the metal insectoid—Sycorax, as Alice called him.

"The epicentre is believed to be in the vicinity of Portus, ninety kilometres west of Aesernia. As such, to confront this emergency, I am organising an expedition to survey the place and locate any survivors. This will include both you—" she gave Task Force Aegis a sweeping look, "And embedded elements of the V Legion. Just in case. Don't expect the professionals to babysit you all, though. Supplies and wagons are being assembled as we speak."

Flame exchanged looks with his teammates. No words were spoken, as though wary of breaking the unspoken moratorium on sound, but pure emotion could be read almost as easily from the eye. Both bore vexation in their dilated pupils.

Another expedition? We just came back from one yesterday! he thought, a newfound object obstructing his throat.

It was, after all, a moral justice. For he wished to rest alone with his team; and now fate reminded him the impossiblity of rest. Two lengthy missions had more than taught him what to expect. They would all walk for hours until their legs collapsed—a force this large, fitting on narrow roads!—and expose themselves to danger and suffer the cold and fight until death clawed at their feet.

Perhaps he was thinking in overly melodramatic terms. There didn't necessarily have to be fighting, especially if no mystery dungeons lay on the road. And yet, he could not help but worry.

"Officers, this is a matter of great importance. Don't worry about Aesernia: the remaining legionaries have already pledged to assist with clean-up operations, and to restore order among civilians," Ariel said, pronouncing the last word with every drop of spite imaginable.

Probably means guard duty around her villa, he thought. His thoughts wandered off to the mob-rule that had taken hold outside her villa. With the Haxorus standing before his eyes, they'd obviously failed in satiating their vengeance. He pictured Bisharp guards slashing and hacking rioters' chests open, forming a cordon behind the breached gates. Was it conceivable that the proles smashed through?

"Got it? Any questions? Good. You will rendezvous outside the western gate two hours from now. Bring whatever you can. Dismissed."

Unsurprisingly, Team Phalanx did not have supplies to gather. They forwent visiting their tent entirely, instead taking a stroll around the town centre to digest what just happened. There was a lot to digest.

Just when I was thinking we could get some rest… Flame heaved internally, eyeing the mess of plaster dust and that coated the main road white.

"She can't be serious," Alice mumbled, face cast downward, "We're going on another expedition. Another one! We could help dig through rubble here at home, and instead she sends us off again."

Flame reflected for a moment upon the bitterness embued in her voice. "Yeah. How far away is this place? P-Portus, I mean."

Her eyes rose to meet his briefly. "Not too far, I suppose. It's a fairly big maritime city—most goods circling up north pass through its port. I think Ariel said ninety kilomtres, so…" she drifted off, retreating in thought, "That should take around eleven hours on foot. Perhaps more. Travelling with the whole Task Force can't make matters easier."

A mindless sigh escaped him. Thoughts had been wracking all over his head for hours, ever since the first tremor, but … what was he supposed to think? He admitted internally to not quite knowing yet. Perhaps it wouldn't all come crashing down; as he looked around, he took a little surprise in finding the town centre mostly intact (if one ignored the caved roofs and potholes). There was a chance Aesernia's pain might turn into Team Phalanx's bloodline.

Such line of thought brought forth a vapid feeling of nausea, yes, but it didn't strip them of truth.

With an entire province more than likely laying devastated, surely there would be an influx of search and rescue missions! Proles would have nothing left to offer—but the bourgeoisie would offer anything to see their loved ones safe and sound. Even that scenario (always best-case; always stuck in wishful fantasies of his) could not budge problems close into the future. With Portus reportedly destroyed and its harbour unusable, supplies would undoubtedly dwindle before long. Famine might struck jointly with wintertime. What then?

Maybe … maybe we'll have made enough money by then to leave Aesernia. Try our luck elsewhere. Too much to think about right now.

Few pokémon hung about Victory Square. The Gyarados statue ontop the fountain was split in two: the tail attached to the fountain's base, and the head, now laying fragmented on the floor. Here too the smell of plaster permeated the air, overpowering even the habitual scent of sweat and urine.

"Thank goodness the square hasn't been destroyed," Alice said in the same dazed voice, "It could have been much worse."

"We have less than an hour left," Gaius noted duly, and pointed to the public sun dial. It consisted of little more than a square slab painted with twelve clockwise numbers, a triangular blade jutting out in the middle and casting shade upon one of the numbers.

With nothing else to do but loiter, Team Phalanx drifted onto one of the roads which branched out from the square. Around the corner, dozens of pokémon were preoccupied sifting through smaller pieces of rubble, and two carried away what appeared to be a lifeless body now painted entirely in milky-white dust.

"Arceus. I … I really don't want to leave," Alice whispered, "It almost makes me feel like a coward. The essence of our job is protecting our fellow citizens—and now we're just going to abandon them in a time of need."

Gaius shrugged in a wide motion, managing a small, albeit forced smile. "Not our choice. Besides, what's left for us if we stay?"

"Technically that's true, but, still…" Alice's voice wandered off.

"Think about it: there will be plenty of opportunities to forage in the wilderness. It'll solve the problem of tonight's meal, and then some."

Alice said nothing further, only exhaling softly. Her gaze seldom lifted off the ground.

Immediately Flame sensed a moral impetus to act. His mind wished to retreat back into thought, but that only dug a deeper emptiness in his chest. No, too much thinking destroyed your sanity. After some minutes spent walking, he decided to take initiative.

Just to see her troubled was intolerable.

"Hey … are you feeling okay?" he asked in the most tender tone he could muster. What a question to ask! Obviously she wasn't; but to show that he cared, he thought, would amount to a kinder gift than any petty reassurance.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. I was just … thinking," Alice said quietly, raising her eyes to meet his, only to look away once more.

He nodded, smiling softly in empathy. Almost as if on reflex, his claw ended up on her back. For a moment, he held his breath at committing such a forcibly intimate gesture. For a moment, he considered withdrawing it, until he noticed that she did not protest in the slightest.

"It all happened so quickly," she continued, "One moment we're fretful over food prices, then all of a sudden the earth starts shaking, and no one knows what will happen next."

Dozens of bird pokémon flew overhead in tight formation, though Alice did not appear to notice, so embroiled she was in spilling her mind out.

"Heck, this isn't technically my home town. I should despise this place. Ever since leaving the South I've faced nothing but hardship, and yet … it hurts. It hurts to see Aesernia in this state."

"I … I was starting to grow attached as well. No matter how filthy, it's our home. My home. It's the only one I remember having, anyway."

Alice stared wordlessly with a hint of surprise. Her expression showed two things: firstly, that in the last few days she had completely forgotten that he had amnesia; and secondly, that sharing her thoughts helped alleviate a fair amount of melancholy.

"Look at the bright side—at least we all get to be miserable together, right?" Alice said playfully.

"Eh, that's what we've always been doing," Gaius replied, the veiled smile on his face contradicting those words.

He chuckled, carried away by the sudden current of upbeatness. For a moment he forgot all traces of death and devastation in his head, instead replaced by morbid awe at his team's sheer cohesion.

But as soon as he payed attention to the surrounding flow of pokémon, something caught his eye. A Swampert, headed toward them. Something in it sparked familiarity. It locked eyes with Flame.

"Oh…" Flame said, piecing together the hints, "It's … it's you."

The Charmeleon wasn't entirely sure what happened in the following instants, other than he took off into the crowd like a lightning bolt.

Behind him a great cry roared.

"Thief! Get back here!"

Without really needing to turn round he knew at once the merchant was giving chase. He dashed and pierced through multiple formations of townspeople, butted an innocent bystander to the ground and only resorted to snaking his way around when the crowd's density grew too impenetrable. Now his desperate escape roused quite commotion, and some pokémon dove away from the incoming missile.

The walls—I need to reach the walls. They're so close!

He felt air rush past him much like during a light breeze, when realisation entered his panicked mind: hurling down the road in a straight line would render him awfully predictable.

So in a split second his psyche identified a secondary road relatively devoid of pokémon, and there was no hesitation. Nobody seemed to notice when he deviated, and—with periodic looks behind his back—the last stretch to the rendezvous point blurred until he was back onto the main road. Here the gates stood wide open. Very briefly he stood motionless, tempted to regain his breath, but decided to stick with other officers for paranoia's sake. Just then a four-member team exited the great wooden doors, past a set of unmoving Bisharp guards. (Always Bisharp—Ariel must have been fixated, he thought).

Stumbling outside of Aesernia, and flattening himself against the cold stone of the outer wall, his heartbeat gradually returned to a healthy rhythm. He rested a paw on his chest to make sure of that, bordering on dizziness. The fatigue seemed to hit him all at once; realistically, it hadn't even been that long, perhaps one or two minutes. Each breath felt heavy, oozing with both relief and exhaustion. About a dozen distinct aches dotted his thighs, all of which flared with every passing moment.

Way to go, idiot, he thought, gritting his teeth and growling faintly at himself.

Of course it would happen. Eleven hours of journey loomed ahead of him, all rigorously on foot; of course flinging his body to its exertion limit would happen right beforehand. He knew not whether to blame himself or destiny. The Swampert did appear unexpectedly—certainly an event he could not control. But did he truly need to burst away like a madman, make a scene in front of everyone?

His eyes wandered to his surroundings. Squads of officers and legionaries alike left Aesernia's confines, few sparing perplexed glances in his direction, and walked to an impromptu assembly just down the dirt road, where dozens of wheeled wagons covered by a cloth roof were being lined up perpendicularly. Uncountable numbers of pokémon already flooded the streets and spilt onto the surrounding prairie. How that many creatures would follow one narrow path remained a mystery.

Before long, one of the outbound Civil Protection teams turned out to be a certain Dragonair and Grovyle duo. Some portion of him feared that the enraged merchant would emerge at any moment behind them, but such did not happen. He waved his paw up high to capture their attention, and they joined him below the outer walls.

"Flame? What the hell was that about?" Gaius gave him a sideways glance, speaking slowly.

"R-remember the cheese we ate earlier?" he said, panting lightly, resisting the urge to look away.

Alice's eyes sparked with realisation. "Oh. So that's who you stole it from…"

He nodded plainly. Traces of discomfort lingered in her gaze, but he acted oblivious, knowing not what to say that would alleviate the distaste she likely harboured for what he did.

Regardless of that, Team Phalanx sat down to gather precious rest, knowing what lay ahead of them.

Route 115

Flame was tired. He felt dead tired. But even more importantly, he was bored out of his wits.

Not long after departing, the expeditionary force was forced to cross a bridge over a river one wagon at a time; but that was about the most interesting event to befall them. The rest had been a nightmare of boredom and sweat. For hours they marched and marched without so much as one moment of rest. The conscious act of walking slipped out of his perception entirely, now little more of a mechanical impulse than breathing.

Solace would not greet him in the landscape, either. Lush forests alternated with rolling plateaus, and even dry hills every sporadic hour—it all started to look the same after a while. At some points he even craved to enter a mystery dungeon, if only to bring some excitement into play!

But undoubtedly the hills were the absolute most excruciating bit of the journey. Once the wagons became stuck in a pool of mud and their carriers realised help would be needed to make it uphill—all Aggron and Machoke and Rapidash, all scary-looking—no officer was spared from having to wet their legs and tails in slime, pushing the ungodly heavy wagons one by one for however many kilomtres required (Alice merely pretended; the lieutenants would not hear that she had no arms).

Every now and again he entertained himself by watching a scouting team composed solely of birds, soaring far above in tight formation and completing periodic surveying loops round the Task Force. No updates; nothing short of wilderness ahead.

Perhaps chatting with his teammates would have helped keep his mind off of just how dull things were, but chatter had been banned within the first hour of force-marching. Not that he could blame the lieutenants, of course. An army so large definitely produced enough noise to turn a pokémon deaf.

And so, left to its own devices, Flame's mind inevitably fell into the single action which would unequivocally destroy him: thinking. For no matter how long he kept them at bay, wrapped them under layers of glass, his thoughts would inevitably catch up to him. And chief amongst those was always his past.

He closed his eyes briefly, breathing out a small sigh as he trampled grass stalks. Nothing had changed. Nothing made arisen during his first day in this world remained in a sort of limbo, unmoved behemoths. Why was he here? Who was he? What on earth had happened to him?

Why was he here? The question looped endlessly in his inner echochamber.

He put a claw to his chin and closed his eyes.

In this past week, I've made no progress in figuring out who I am or what happened to me. But where do I even look? Alice said the Scum might have something to do with me, but that's just a theory. No concrete proof. Think, Flame, think…

Most surprisingly, the fact that he was walking and the fatigue somewhat helped his psyche carve out realistic possibilities of how events might have unfolded, and work backwards to find solutions.

Many times he'd been told that Charmeleons were not a common sight up north. That meant he very likely was not originally a native inhabitant of Aesernia, or the surrounding area. That left the southern portion of the empire (the map appeared behind his eyelids) at play. Immense swathes of land, certainly, but nonetheless fewer than before.

Suppose he'd joined the Imperial Army, and combat drifted him up north, fighting claw-to-claw and tooth-to-tooth; suppose a particularly able psychic had ambushed him, wiped his memories clean, and left him to freeze solid in that very cavern.

In such scenario, surely he'd left some kind of family member behind who now remained distressed at his disappearance. Or maybe even come searching…

For a moment, he halted hours upon hours of march. His eyes widened in enlightenment.

Of course! How could this have escaped him? It was so simple!

All he needed to do was find one of his fellow Char evolutionary line. None were native to this region. Thus, for any to present themselves meant a high likeliness of them being said family—a brother or a sister, looking for him!

Almost on cue he brought his eyes to analyse the compositon of the army group in front and behind him. The wagon convoy that stretched almost as far as the horizon covered much of the force, but from what he could gather no fellow Char stood out amongst the crowd.

This surprised him very little. If his family wouldn't come to him, he thought, then he would go find them himself.

Smiling widely, he paused to appreciate how pleasant it felt to have a long-term goal, one not tied to Team Phalanx's current mission or day-to-day survival. It gave him purpose.

High above, the scouting birds squawked in unison.

Flame maneuvered his way through dappled light and shade, venturing deeper into the coniferous forest. He had to make a conscious effort to keep his tail fire from brushing against endemic shrubbery. Nettles grew alongside ferns and seemed to intermingle into one thick, messy layer. From somewhere deeper in the heart of the woods came the droning of Spearows.

"So…" he hopped over a fallen log, "Ariel didn't even come along with us? After everything she said?"

Every word was alternated with loud snaps from the trampled needle-like leaves and withering twigs.

"That's her quintessential nature," Alice frowned, "We're sent to risk our lives, while she relaxes in her thermae."

"Oh, I hope those proles burnt her villa down for good," Gaius ran his claws along a tree's bark, leaving superficial scratch marks.

Such possibility, in hindsight, should not have evoked surprise. It grew when the expeditionary force had stopped to set up camp on a naked plateau overlooking what the lieutenants claimed to be the Portus countryside. Only then did those in the force realise that Ariel had not quite followed them.

Whilst dozens upon dozens of tents began to spring up, it was Gaius who suggested that they slip out into the nearby woods to hoard as much precious food as physically transportable.

Now, as they continued, he internally marvelled at how coniferous trees towered over all—so slender and fragile, yet the needle-thin leaves only began sprouting where a regular oak tree would end. Consequently, the forest's practical rooftop left swathes of unblocked air, allowing wind to kiss one's skin.

Not long afterwards they came upon an ample break in the trees, where moody sunlight streamed freely. It took but a few steps to realise that there was a fairly broad river slicing up two wooded areas, flowing with foamy impetus. He halted to inspect closer. Both the riverbed and the its banks were coated perfectly with jagged rocks of variable size. At no point did the water ascend above hypothetical waist-level, but it still looked like something any sound Charmeleon would rightly mistrust.

"Should we focus on something in particular?" Flame said, his eyes fixated on the pure current, "Like meat or berries?"

Gaius took a few moments to reply. "The two of you stay here and fish. In the meantime, I'll pick any berries that come up and look for ferals. Sentret shouldn't be too hard to find."

"Let's see…" Alice hummed, "I believe there were legionaries fishing downstream: I doubt they shall take kindly to us stealing their prey."

"Ugh, fine…" Gaius heaved, "Bloody bastards, playing our own game. Do what you want. I'm going hunting—see you at sunset."

"Hang on!" Alice raised her voice as the Grovyle turned to leave, "How can you be positive that you won't get lost? Let's stick—hey! Listen to me, for once!"

But Gaius had already begun dashing parallel to the stream, and exited auditory range mere seconds later.

Alice muttered something nefarious under her breath, diverting her eyes to the water and forest surrounding them.

"I think we should try," Flame looked her directly in the eye, "Nobody will ever know if we only catch a couple of fish and leg it. Are you up to it?"

Alice let out a chuckle, one not of derision, but of happiness. "Wow. First bread with cheese, and now fish. Eating like royals, aren't we? Yes, we can try."

"Fantastic," Flame nodded, "I'm assuming you already know the process."

"… Somewhat. 'Tis a skill I was never taught, but the theoretical part is relatively easy to grasp. Leave me a few seconds to word this properly."

She drifted closer to the ege of the water, dipping her tailtip in it, as though to gauge temperature and current intensity.

"Okay, so … the aim is to first stir confusion among the fish, preferably by denying them a chance to escape downstream, and one must then eletrctrocute the water. Any fish should instantly shoot up. Just make sure to catch them as they fall."

Flame hummed loudly. "Makes sense. Between us two you're the only one capable of electric attacks, so that's that. As for me…"

He brought his gaze all round to analyse the river. A voice in the back of his head doubted he could provide much help. Not that he lacked the intention: the stream was anything but impassable, and yet he did not wish to immerge one toe inside it.

No obvious solition presented itself until — there! That's when he saw it. A rough line of rocks jutting out of the stream, surrounded by foam, sufficiently flat and close to each other to be considered a haphazard bridge.

Without so much as a word, Flame walked forth to where his toes actually did touch the water. It was freezing, much like expected. For multiple, undecided moments he stared at the first of the many rocks, picturing possible aftermaths of disastrous falls—a slippery surface, that was all it took.

But those thoughts were soon held at bay by an impetus to show initiative, and—he felt—a particularly strong bout of self-confidence which originated from inside, rather than any individual praise or compliment.

Come on, Flame. It's easy. Show her you're not afraid.

Swallowing, he paced back a few steps, dashed forth, and jumped over his fears. Upon landing his balance suddenly teetered, but the rock was relatively flat enough to allow him to recover.

"Flame? What are you doing?" Alice's voice inquired from behind.

"I have an idea."

Once sufficently stable, he bent his knees carefully and, with another hop, reached a second rock, this one engorged akin to an oval-shape, but also marginally larger. In an effort to keep his feet still, Flame promptly brought his paws down as secondary support, much like a quadruped.

Were it possible, he would have driven his claws into the rocky surface, so close he felt to slipping to certain demise.

See? That wasn't so bad. Now…

Doubt creeped into his mind, but he shook it away immediately, and held on in the middle of the river.

"Okay, um … I'll use my fire to stir some confusion," Flame turned to Alice, "Once I have them trapped, you go in for the kill."

Alice nodded, looking rather curious. After all, standing on four paws must have been quite an amusing sight, he thought.

Filling his lungs with air, Flame wasted no time to follow standard attacking procedure: no sooner than he could puff his chest did his throat start to clench shut, and a lively, scorching jet of fire spewed out of his jaws and into the water.

No thought was required. Upon contact fire turned to steam, and was accompanied by a crackling hiss that closely symbolised pain. A localised trail of smoke quickly developed into an entire cloud. Fire kept streaming undeterred, pounding the river's surface and doubtless boiling it to temperatures unbearable for any fish. The onslaught continued for nearly an entire minute, at which point dwindling oxygen forced Flame to stop.

No sooner than he began gasping for air did Alice shoot a small net of electricity directly inside the stream. Water itself seemed to twitch, as ripples emerged all over. Then, quiet. Only the sound of his laboured breathing. He looked on with anticipation when an object emerged from under the surface—a fish, Magikarp to be exact, followed by another and another and five more simultaneously. All unmoving. Noticing that the strong current was drifting the motionless fish away, he reacted on instinct and quickly seized the only fish drifting within arm range.

He put it on the rock, pressed under both his paws to keep it although the Magikarp hardly struggled before going limp. The heat emanating only momentarily surprised him. It certainly did look unexceptional, though he would have to taste its flesh for himself.

Looking at the riverbank revealed that Alice had caught a fish of her own. They both looked each other in the eye.

"Did you see that? I didn't think we'd make it on the first try!" Flame shouted whilst attempting to retain balance in his quadruped posture.

"Me neither," Alice said, "I honestly expected fishing to require more effort. Had I known sooner, think of all the meals we could have caught! We'd be eating like royalty every other day."

"I wouldn't quite call Magikarp 'royalty food', but in our situation, that's the closest we can get."

"Oh, would you rather eat Gorebyss fillet?" Alice grinned playfully, "Is that the bar you're setting?"

Flame laughed. "Now that you mention it, I wouldn't mind trying some."

Standing up on wobbly footing, he managed to jump back to the bridging rock without tumbling, claws sunk into the fish's skin out of paranoia. From there, it took one last hop for him to return on firm land.

Alice was struggling with getting her bag open, so he mindlessly did it in her stead, storing both fish inside, earning a nod of thanks from the Dragonair.

Two isn't enough for all of us, though, he thought, Certainly not enough for more than one meal…

His eyes wandered back to the bunch of dead fish floating away farther and farther downstream. Alice's own gaze followed his.

"Right. I almost forgot about our 'rivals'. They'll undoubtedly deduce our activities here. Here, let's go," she turned counter to the stream's flow, the water on her left.

"Okay, but…" Flame walked by her side, "There's only two fish. What about Gaius? I don't think he'd appreciate being excluded."

"Hey—we did all the hard work, we get to enjoy its fruits," she raised her snout, "Besides, remember this morning?"

Indeed he remembered. Faced with the prospect of splitting their rations, the Grovyle had refused to share a crumb of his bread with cheese. That memory suddenly evaporated any worry for their team leader.

Among other topics running through his mind, he wondered whether the two had always held this opinion of near-disdain for each other. In fact, the details of how Team Phalanx came to exist interested him a great deal. If Alice was born in the tranquil South, why was she here, amidst poverty and famine? And Gaius!—not one mention of family or friends or past life. Right now, however, he would only be able to ask her. He bit the inner part of his lip as he mulled over the options. Perhaps she would not wish to disclose her past—take offense, even. He would need to word such question with extreme care.

"Um, Alice," he said, waiting for her attention to be drawn to him, "Would you mind if I … asked a bit about your past? I still don't know you or Gaius properly. B-but if it's too intimate to share, I understand. Heck, I'd gladly tell you my story, but … you know…" he drifted, nervousness stealing syllables from his mouth.

She stared at him with a tiny grain of apprehension, silent. After a few seconds, she gave him a half-nod. "I suppose you're right. We are teammates, after all. Ask me whatever you wish."

"Thanks. So … I was wondering, what brought you up here? You were born in Urbe, right?"

"Yes, that is correct. I've lived in Urbe nearly my entire life. Up until three years ago. Actually…" she brought her eyes around, "Not even Gaius knows this, but my family comes from the imperial court." she took an extra second of silence. "Senators, to be precise."

His eyes dilated. "Woah, really? T-that's incredible! Did you ever get to meet the emperor?"

"Well … sometimes. At official speeches or banquets. Never talked to him, of course."

Flame contemplated the information she'd just revealed. He pictured the Dragonair scurrying about an elegant banquet, the imperial gardens visible outside the window, surrounded by dignitaries and servants. Now that he entertained that thought, he could not imagine a more appropriate setting for her.

"I did not choose to leave Urbe. 'Tis still my home, after all. However, my family…" she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, "Ugh, it's complicated. I have no clue what to think, or what I did wrong. They destested the sight of me. It all went downhill after some time. At times, I wonder if I'll ever be able to return."

Flame immediately detected the notes of discomfort and bitterness intertwined in her voice, and decided to not press the matter any further.

"On that matter, I did some thinking earlier. With Aesernia destroyed, we might not have a job anymore. What if we look for a better life elsewhere? Nothing is forcing us to stay."

"I hadn't thought of that. It's definitely a possibility," a smile touched her snout, "How about we think this through once we have gathered enough food?"

Just as those words were uttered, a bush displaying pear-shaped berries (some ripe, some spoilt, others healthy-looking) presented itself inside a small ditch off the riverbank. Sunlight would soon vanish completely, and gathering food at night presented unnecessary dangers. The two of them continued to chat about any and all minutiae than came to mind, from the beauty of Urbe, ancient history, future ambitions and dreams, or just prodding fun at one another. Talking, at times, overshadowed the main task they were there to accomplish.

Eventually, whichever topic of discussion ceased to matter much, both simply content in the other's companionship.

Camp Horizon

The sun had long set by the time distant thunderclouds covered its nightly counterpart.

The plateau was an arid and barren place, where dun yellow bushes sat atop equally rusted soil, one of chunky complexion that glued to the legs. Some ways away it dropped off to a startling height, where darkness engorged what lay beyond.

Flame returned to his senses when the dense odour of smoke permeated his nostrils, infused with cooked fish. He stopped muddling his attention into nothingness and turned back to the group he'd been spending the night with. There were many of them, most mere officers, a few legionaries, all gathered round a large pyre to dine very much informally. Some engaged in near-hysterical laughter and droned on about immature sex jokes he did not understand, others quipped in every other bite, others yet—Alice and Gaius flanked him—made but the sound of chewing.

He ripped another chunk of flesh off the cooked Magikarp in his claws, gnawing eagerly at to leech off more of its salty juice. It was unlike anything he'd ever eaten before: the scales felt crispy beneath his teeth, hiding a layer of plentiful flesh. At some point, he became so lost in the meal that he unconsciously abandoned efforts to savour it slowly. It disappeared within a scant few minutes.

Seeing no common rubbish dump agreed on, he felt authorised to chuck the bones and inedible parts behind his back without so much as care. The sheer taste of this dinner left him licking his lips to taste its last traces. He now knew that fishing would become a semi-priority whenever searching for food in the future.

Overall, the outcome of their detour had been very fruitful. Their bags now contained enough Sentret and Deerling meat and berries and fruit to last them circa four days (to gather any more would have proved futile due to putrefaction). It certainly did feel alleviating not to have to worry about such basic needs for once—the privilege to focus on the bigger picture.

Out of sheer curiosity, he shifted his attention to the ongoing conversation around him and attempted to pick up stray sentences.

"That's what you call 'craziest experience'? I once had a Haxorus give me head."

"With those tusks touching down there? You've gotta be kidding!"

"Nah, their females have smaller tusks. Pretty good tongues, too."

"Small tusks? You mean like Ariel?"

Five pokémon or so burst into laughter. "Woah, now, she's a special case. If it weren't for her voice, I would have thought she was a guy."

Flame found himself snickering lightly at that. It's true, though. Almost called her 'sir' when she first addressed me.

A handful of sparks jumped our from the pyre, appearing to hit one nearby pokémon before fading away into invisible ash.

Disinterest took a hold of him. The fire and social atmosphere did feel welcoming, yes, but his eyelids had begun loosening of their own accord every so often. He got to his feet, turning to leave, and noticed Alice peering up from the corner of her eye. Gaius was too distracted talking to other officers.

"Tired. I'm going to bed," he mumbled to her with as few words as feasible.

Thus, while walking away from the group, he squeezed his mind to remember where exactly their assigned tent was. He remembered that it stood somewhere close to the plateau's edge, but…

Mid-step, he froze. His eyes had caught wind of a most improbable sight. Sitting alone outside a group of ragged tents was, of all things, a Charmeleon. Female, judging by its looks, sifting through her bag, fire-tipped tail swaying to and fro. Her scales were markedly more pale-hued than his—a delicate orange. It took some moments for him to fully realise what this entailed. The plan he'd concocted hours earlier rushed into his mind all at once.

She's just like me … this is the chance I've been waiting for! There must be a reason she's all the way up here. What if she's my sister?

Even the remote possibility of having found a lead roused his excitement to no end. He needed to extrapolate every useful minutia conceivable from that brain of hers.

Moving by sheer impetus rather than conscious thought, he moved within a few metres of her. Before he could protest to himself that it would become awkward and that he needed to word his question correctly, it was already too late to back out.

"Hey there," he sat cross-legged by her side.

"Oh, hi!" she smiled back with mild surpsise, with none of the expected wariness, "It's so refreshing meeting a fellow Char out here."

Flame smiled back even wider, finding the timbre in her voice sweet—not unlike Alice's. "Same. I haven't seen one in … months, at the very least. How come I've never seen you around at Camp Tempest?"

"Big place, y'know," she shrugged, completely attentive, "I was starting to think I was the only Char for hundreds of kilometres. Finally, my ears can hear something other than that horrible accent they have up here. It gets maddening after a while."

Flame paused for a second, if only to gather his racing thoughts. To find an element on instantaneous connection certainly did bless his chances. But to ask the fatidical question outright would deprive him of crucial knowledge. One step at a time, he thought.

"Name's Flame. You?"

"Livia," a smile blossomed on her short snout.

"Livia … I like that name. Perhaps I have met you before. Where are you from?"

"My family owns the Imperial Navy dockyards in Agia Marina. We get by just fine—the only reason I'm here is to help my country."

He had the map of the Empire behind his eyelids. Rummaging through memory, he recalled such a settlement far along the southern coast, just off the Lipari Arcipelago. So far, every piece fit to form a plausible scenario. Riding the flow of the conversation would surely lend more details.

From so close, he could not help but take a moment to notice her 'features'. Her body was built just like his, only distinctly feminine: a less pronounced snout, shorter claws and tail, as well as a tantalisingly puffier upper chest.

Some part of him stirred in protest. Not necessarily that this act was morally distasteful in and of itself—some other message he was unable to decipher. He cast that thought aside.

"Wow, what are the chances? I come from that area as well. Ur—Urbe, to be exact. Arceus knows I miss that place…"

Livia turned to face him directly, her posture open and untense. "Same. Life up here's bloody depressing. Y'know, when you came up to me like that, for a moment I could have sworn it was my brother. You and him truly do look alike."

Now his interest peaked. A tingling of excitement washed upon him. There was a very realistic chance he was this Charmeleon's sibling—in which case, however, this whole situation (his occasional glances at her form) would abruptly become very creepy.

"Really? I'm going to assume that's a compliment, then," he chuckled, unconsciously mimicking her posture. "And, this brother of yours … have you heard from him recently? Just for curiosity."

Her gaze wandered over to the starless night sky. "Yes, actually. Just a week ago, he wrote me a letter."

Flame frowned. He felt his shoulders slump. All was not set in stone certainly: a letter would probably take weeks, perhaps months to be delivered. More than enough time for his hypothetical past self to disappear without a trace, considering he solely possessed memories of the past week. At the very least, knowing they probably did not share blood made those thoughts caressing his mind less weird.

Livia's smile faded as well. "Even while enjoying company, I'm unused to sharing personal details as much as this. Why are you so interested in me?"

He bit his tongue lightly. "Um … the main reason is that I need your help. For some time now, I've lost all contact with my family. They likely don't know where I am. Do you have any memories of hearing about a missing Charmeleon?"

Her gaze softened. "Oh, I see. Let me recall." she spun her gaze around, hanging in troubling silence for some time. "There's only a couple families of Chars back in Agia Marina, and I know them all very well. So, no, I have no information of use to you, unless it happened after I enrolled."

A small breath of defeat left him. It had been arguably the worse fate of all—not only did no grasp of a concrete lead to his past exist, but no previous hypothesis could be definitely scrapped, either. He forced those thoughts to the back of his mind.

"Don't worry about it. I appreciate it nonetheless. Maybe I'd feel a bit more disappointed if your voice weren't so soothing."

She giggled lightly. "Is that so? Why, thank you. In that case, I suppose you won't mind chatting some more."

Flame nodded courtly. "Would you prefer taking this conversation to my tent?"

The words had poured from his mouth spontaneously. Then, realisation struck him with the force of a slap across the face. Warmth rose into that very face, and his eyes suddenly jerked between her own and a nondescript point behind her.

"Listen, Flame…" she said slowly, paws cupped together, "I appreciate how sweet you're being, and you are kind of cute,"—he flushed redder—"but I already have a mate. I promised him we'd marry once I got back from deployment."

"Oh."

Whenever he attempted to conjure more words, his mind seemed to shut down completely. Silence between them only stretched. To maintain a composed face was intolerable. It had been too early—far too early. He ought to have fraternised more beforehand!

Remaining still didn't seem like a desirable option, so he shuffled to his feet. "That's fine. D-don't worry about it. I'll … be heading to bed, now. Good luck."

She said something in goodbye, but he didn't quite catch it, for he had already moved away toward his own tent.

Well, that was … sloppy, at best. I tried, he sighed internally.

With his vision blurry from fatigue, he entered his team's tent, puzzled at this rotten feeling that had nestled firmly within his chest.

End of Chapter XI