Chapter 21: Outworlders

It was rare for the Pokémon of Astraean to see Gallade walking alone through the streets in the mid morning. He was his usual self, giving his warm smile and an inviting wave to those that met his eye, and many were inclined to return the same onto him. Nothing about him made them feel that something was amiss, so aside from a few glances no one bothered being worried. No one bothered being unsettled or afraid of what roused the Guildmaster from his office. Rare meant nothing- Gallade has been known to take a walk or two now and then. There hadn't been anything to be suspicious of. No one knew where he was heading or why. Perhaps that was for the better.

His morning stroll took Gallade to the front of the circus, where today a Seviper and an Arbok stood in front of the main entrance to the makeshift path. Behind them, Pokémon were preparing for the upcoming day.

The Pokémon in the stands and booths were counting the money they had made yesterday, as well as how much merchandise they had left, while the performers were maintaining their tools and brushing up on their tricks.

"Morning!" Gallade called to the two snakes. "Sorry to disturb you. I'd like to speak with your ringmaster and clear a few things up."

"You're the Guildmaster…?" Seviper eyed the Psychic-type suspiciously. "Sorry, but Joker's very busy with preparations, and isn't allowing visitors at the moment," he sneered.

"I don't suppose he's willing to make an exception?" Gallade asked, already aware of what the answer would be. Arbok sternly shook his head. "Yeah, I had a feeling. It's your job to make sure no one sneaks through. I can respect that." He took a short breath. "I also know that some of my kids caused some damages yesterday during an investigation, and as the Guildmaster it's my responsibility to clean up when they make a mess. Please, you'll insult me if you refuse my hospitality. At least let me come and break bread with your ringmaster."

"Like I said, he's busy," Seviper hissed.

"Are you being mean to the Guildmaster?" A voice came from behind the serpents. They turned around to see the Floatzel with painted fur, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a slightly weary look in his eyes. "Lying is mean, you know?" He gave a friendly smile as he approached.

"It isn't a lie. We don't allow visitors during setup," Arbok defended.

"You should know that Guildmasters are an exception. This is his town; he can go where he likes," Joker scolded, then looked up at the Psychic-type. "Now, to what do I owe this visit?"

"I understand that there was a scuffle the other day, and during that my kids caused some damage to your property," Gallade explained. "First of all I'd like to cover the cost, and then spend a few minutes talking about what happened. Just to clear the air."

"You think we need you to cover the cost?" Seviper scoffed.

"You're not the first ones to pick a fight. We can pay for our own equipment," Arbok added. Hostile murmurs of agreement came from the performers that had stopped to see what was going on.

"Anything you have to say to Joker can be said in front of us!" a Dewott joined in from a few feet away. The side chatter grew a bit louder and more forceful.

Joker's friendly smile quickly dropped as he shouted, "Enough!" All at once, the conversations stopped and all eyes were on the Floatzel. "Gallade is my guest, and you shall treat him as such. Have any of you been a Guildmaster before? Do you know exactly how much work it takes to run an organization of that size? Yet Gallade has taken time out of his busy schedule to pay us a visit himself, and you throw stones at him? He's even kind enough to offer to pay for the damage done by his subordinates, yet you have the gall to refuse him so rudely? I didn't think that was the way we ran things here." The weasel swept his steely stare across the grounds, meeting the gaze of each and every performer present. The Pokémon dropped their gazes to the ground, some remorseful, but others spiteful. "I believe everyone here has something they should be doing, hm? We're under the clock here - get to it!"

The performers sulkily returned to their tasks. Joker then returned to his usual smile as he looked back at Gallade. "I'm terribly sorry you had to see that. Tension can get rather high during setup; everything has to be perfect, after all."

"Not at all," Gallade returned a friendly smile.

"I'll accept your compensation gratefully for the damaged tent, although it really isn't that big of a deal. Now, about that private talk…" Joker turned and trotted down through the makeshift path, gesturing with his twin tails for the Psychic-type to follow him. Gallade allowed the ringmaster to lead him through the aisles of food stalls to the performers' personal tents. Joker entered the largest of the tents, placed in the very back, with a picture of a top hat painted onto it. "This is my personal tent. No one would be back here for any reason, so feel free to speak as loudly as needed."

"What a cozy place you've got here," Gallade observed. The tent was large enough to comfortably fit four Pokémon of Gallade's size. The inside was fairly empty, with only a bed of hay and feather, a colorful toy box sitting off to the side, and a mirror propped against the wall. "I mean, considering that it's supposed to be nomadic. Practical, but still personal."

"I'm honored to hear that," Joker responded.

"Though I must say, the attitude shown by the members of your circus is very disheartening," Gallade stated.

"As I said, tension-"

"Tension? That wasn't tension, Joker. I've seen that attitude many times before. One might think the circus to be an oppressed colony. I haven't wronged your group, have I?" Gallade asked him. "Arbok said that my kids weren't the first to cause a mess, so that couldn't be the reason. If it were, covering the cost should have broken some of the atmosphere."

"I agree. Such behavior is inexcusable, and in no way represents what the circus stands for," Joker apologized. "They aren't normally like this. Promise. Stress brings out this… 'oppressed minority' in them, continuing your metaphor."

"It's concerning to see your group like this, and I'd hope to improve relations in the future, but I don't believe that I can do anything today to fix that," Gallade shrugged. "And besides, I did not come all this way to give your customer service a review. First, the matters of yesterday. During an investigation two of my boys caused some damages whilst looking for a Swanna. One got in a fight with you and traded a few blows. By the way you're carrying yourself, it must've been more than a skirmish."

"The Riolu." Joker put on a much weaker version of the childlike smile he had found himself wearing the other day. "He's an amateur, but he's interesting. I don't know what it is, but you have something on your hands with that kid."

"It's nice to hear that. I'll tell Riley what you said, but I'm not sure if he'll be happy about it," Gallade told him. He cleared his throat. "The other, the Charmander, accidentally burned part of your tent. Whether you want a patch or a whole new tent, I can cover the cost of it by tomorrow. We've been saving for a rainy day. Surely we can afford to clean up this little puddle."

"A patch will do just fine. It's just the kitchen tent, and giving it an extra splash of color will be cute," Joker decided.

"Sounds doable," Gallade assured. "Tomorrow the circus will receive its funds. I'm sure you have your own tailor to make your tent, so I'll leave that to you. However, these same kids did act for a reason. I'll cover for the damages, but the report they gave me is enough for investigation. They were looking for a civilized Swanna, but instead they just found a 'wild' Swanna that was being used for dinner. A coincidence like that doesn't come along often. I could easily call for further investigation solely on that."

"Are you accusing us of murder?" Joker asked testily, his smile fading to a stern expression similar to the one he had when he scolded the performers.

"No one's listening, Joker. Don't get defensive on me. I couldn't care less if you shadow-dwellers off each other, got it? If it was anyone else, what you did to Carbink would be repaid tenfold, but I'll spare you just this once. Just stay the hell off my streets," the Guildmaster warned him. The Water-type stood silent across from him, staring into the single red eye of the Psychic-type. It hadn't changed in demeanor, but the words he spoke were so unlike him. For a moment Joker wondered if in fact it had been someone else who said them.

"For now," Gallade continued, "the subject of this Swanna matters not to me. I didn't come all this way just for your domestic affairs." Gallade reached behind him into a neat, leather bag and pulled out a letter sealed with blue wax. In it was a shallow imprint of the Guild's sigil, signifying its origin.

"Ooh, fancy. That's never a good sign," Joker smirked. He grabbed the letter from Gallade's hand and peeled the lip back, removing the seal. Joker took hold of the contents inside and unfolded the piece of paper, revealing the bold black text at the top: Warrant. "Why don't I ever get any fun letters?" he sighed.

"Six days ago, my kids witnessed you and three others robbing a small caravan they were defending," Gallade told him. "Right now we have three witnesses off hand. Contact has been made with the victim, and we have pieces of the scene this took place at to match to your arsenal and your own prints. Simply put, you're being charged with assault and theft. Do you plead guilty, or shall we go to trial?"

"You're quite well prepared, aren't you?" Joker grinned. "That was indeed me. I felt kinda bad for a while afterwards. I bit that Roselia pretty hard."

"That makes things much simpler." Gallade clapped his hands together and pulled out a pen from his bag, accompanied by a sponged ink pad. "Alright. Signature at the bottom, followed by your paw print. Then the date. Read the fine print if you wish."

"Sure thing." Joker did as he said, taking the pen and scribbling down his signature. "What's the punishment gonna be?" He put his paw on the ink pad and left his print to the right of his signature.

"Well… I'll just say it." The Guildmaster cleared his throat. "First, you're being fined. One wagon, one chest, and four hundred and seventy-three Joy Seeds. The latter will be a hefty price. Florges, the victim's boss and owner of the stolen property, said that she will allow you to divide the fine into payments. On top of this, you have to spend ten days in prison."

"Ten days? That's not gonna sit well with the performers…" Joker muttered.

"You've committed a crime. As the law incarnate, I'm obligated to punish you for it," Gallade stated. "I'll leave it to you to tell your friends. It's likely that they'll put the blame on me as a result, and they're free to do so. If they so choose to be wrong, that's their right. But, just in case…" The Psychic-type raised his left hand in front of his face, and a moment later an object darted out of nowhere into his gentle palm. It was a bone, fresh, brittle, and with a few teeth marks on the length of it. The meat had been stripped off of it, but along the end there remained a bit of cartilage where the joint would have been. The Guildmaster looked at it carefully for a second, twisting it around and studying it under his single red eye, and then nodded and tucked it in his bag. "Tomorrow at eight in the morning, your ten days starts. Bright and early. This leaves you the whole rest of the day to plan out your circus for when you leave."

"How very generous of you," Joker smirked grimly.

"Oh, and by the way, I need to remind you." The Guildmaster coughed twice and stared into Joker. "If you don't show up tomorrow, I'll hunt you down myself. Do be prompt."

"As much fun as it sounds to play such an extreme game of tag, you can expect me at your door no later than eight o'clock," Joker smiled, a hint of a challenge in his eyes.

"We'll be waiting." Gallade turned around with his hands tucked behind his back. He whistled a sharp tune as he meandered to the opening, pushing the flap open and letting it flutter behind him. There was a brief flash of light, and the whistling abruptly stopped as the Guildmaster was swept away in a Teleport.

Joker sat on his bed of hay for a moment, thinking over what he was going to do next. With the festival still ongoing, he wasn't sure how the performers would react to this news. With a sigh, he heaved himself up and made his way to the main path.

"Nairy," he called to Dragonair as she was helping to inflate beach balls.

"What did I tell you about calling me that?" Dragonair hissed testily.

"Never mind that. Call everyone together in the main tent. I have news."

"Regarding the Guildmaster?" Dragonair guessed.

"Well… It's a surprise!" Joker winked and gave a goofy grin. He then turned and slowly made his way to the main tent. He made sure to give enough time for Dragonair to spread the message and for everyone to arrive before him.

Inside the giant multicolored tent, every Pokémon in the circus sat in the bleachers, chatting amongst themselves. Curiosity and tension mixed in the air as everyone was waiting impatiently for the ringmaster to explain what had happened.

"Greetings, everyone!" Joker waved as he sauntered through the entrance to the center of the stage. "I'm sure you all have a shit-ton of questions, but I'm here to tell you all that I know!" He paused to let the chatter die down before continuing. "As many of you know, Guildmaster Gallie paid us a visit earlier this morning, under the guise of compensation for the damaged tent. However, he actually came to discuss a legal matter." He stopped again and waited for silence as Pokémon began asking question to him and each other. "A little while ago, I helped a good friend of mine rob a caravan. Gallie told me I had to pay the caravan owner back for the damaged property and stolen goods, as well as spend time in jail." An uproar broke out as the performers could no longer sit still.

"Jail time?! Who does he think he is?!" Dragonair scoffed.

"Doesn't he know we have a show to put on?!" Dewott exclaimed.

"It ain't fair! You were jes' helpin' a friend! How come you're th' only one gettin' punished?!" Buneary protested.

"Everyone, settle down!" Joker shouted over the chatter. He waited patiently for the performers to find their seats again. "I appreciate the concern, but you misunderstand. It's only ten days, and the fee isn't anything we can't handle."

"Even so, that'll throw a huge wrench in our schedule," Dragonair pointed out.

"No, I want you all to continue as planned. You'll finish the shows here today and tomorrow, then pack up and leave tomorrow night. I'll catch up to you once I'm out." Joker explained. "I'll have a substitute ringmaster for when I'm gone. Let's see…" he took a sweeping glance across the room, "Dewdrop will do it."

Dewott straightened up in surprise, "M-me?" Murmurs filled the room. "But I'm just a street performer. I think Dragonair would be a better choice." Dragonair looked away, trying not to look displeased with Joker's decision and failing miserably.

"I think you guys have some misconceptions about the ringmaster… my job is not to be a king," Joker explained. "There's no circus hierarchy. While it's true Nairy is a very skilled performer, that's exactly why she isn't the substitute ringmaster. The ringmaster's job is to simply organize the show. I'm not the main event or anything. No one comes here just to see me; they come to see all of you. A ringmaster without his performers couldn't possibly attract a crowd as large as we do. Similarly, Nairy may be a finale performer, but that doesn't make her any more important than anyone else. Without the tech crew, she wouldn't have a spotlight. Without the stall operators, she wouldn't be able to fund her tour. I chose Dewdrop to take my place simply because he is not scheduled to perform in the main show for a while. He can juggle his job as a street performer and mine as the ringmaster with the least amount of difficulty." The performers murmured uncertainly to themselves.

"I suppose that makes sense…" Dewott admitted.

"Great!" Joker clapped his paws together, "We've wasted enough time here. Everyone, back to your tasks! We have two hours before our doors open once again, and this place has to be perfect!" The performers quickly began swarming towards the exits, eager to return to their assignments. "Dewdrop," Joker called to the Water-type, "Follow me and I'll teach you what you need to do in my absence."

…

Most of the Guild had left by the time Joker came in to begin his ten days, but those that had the day off were more than surprised to see him walk up to the Guildmaster. However, it turned even more heads when the two turned down one of the halls and into the dungeon. When Gallade emerged alone he was barraged with questions, but he just answered as everyone expected him to: All I did was charge another criminal. Don't act so surprised.

News spread quickly, but Gallade answered to no one. Some dozen townsfolk showed up at the door in less than an hour only to be urged away by the silent, unfaltering Blaziken. Despite the fit everyone had been in, the Guildmaster had not been moved because of how famous the criminal was. He stuck to his duties as he always had.

Roughly an hour and a half after his incarceration, Gallade was in front of the wanted boards, taking down outdated posters and putting up the new ones, as well as returning a few of the posters that had been confidently ripped down only to return attached to someone whose head drooped over the floor. It was just as he finished the wanted board, ready to move on to the job requests, when he overheard the conversation of Kirlia's teammates in the messhall.

"Who'd have thought that Joker was a criminal," Luxio commented. "How're you taking all this? He's your brother, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Buizel sighed. Brother…? Curious, Gallade quietly began walking towards the archway. "I mean, I know he's changed, but I never thought he'd rob a caravan."

"What do you mean by 'changed?'" Gallade asked them.

"G-Gallade!" Buizel jumped out of his seat, nearly stumbling back and falling on his ass. "Wh-what're you doing here?!"

"How has Joker changed?" Gallade pressed.

Buizel shook his head and took a deep breath. "W-well, it's just as I said. He changed. One day he was… reserved, and caring- a lot like Luxio, actually. The next, he was like someone else. Giddy… adventurous… I remember being somewhat unsettled, but I kinda liked it. But there were times that he had this look on his face I just couldn't understand," he explained. He sat down once again and put his chin on his left paw.

"You don't have to do this," Luxio assured his partner. The Electric-type looked up to Gallade. "Please. None of this really matters to the case, does it?" he pleaded.

"I'll be the judge of that," Gallade answered. "Go on, Buizel."

"He… he left for days at a time." The way Buizel spoke was distant, to no one specifically, as if he was just reminding himself. It was unsettling for Luxio to hear his partner act in such a way. "Said he was looking for someone, but he never said who it was. Over time he became more distant towards me and our mom. He refused to fight. Didn't even spar with me anymore. One day this was flipped on its head. Said he needed to get stronger, and he ran off into the forest. He brought home kids and injured Pokémon that needed to be rescued. Mom didn't have the resources to care for them all, but she didn't want to push away her son. It really got to her. There were nights where she didn't eat so that we could. Maybe he knew this, because he began traveling around with them. Then he formed the circus. Started calling himself 'Joker' and stained his fur. I haven't talked to him since. Now poor mom's all alone..." He buried his face in his paws and didn't come out for a while.

"It's okay," Luxio attempted to console, but he lacked the insight to provide anything meaningful. He bitterly looked up to the Guildmaster. "Was any of that of help?"

"It just might be," Gallade muttered to himself as he mulled over the story he was told. He nodded twice and turned around. "Thanks for the information," he said before leaving the archway.

At the end of the faculty hall there stood a thick steel door with a clear label written on the wall above it: Dungeon: Restricted Access. Gallade placed his open palm against the cold metal. Mechanisms slid and clicked into place upon his touch, and the heavy handle twisted to the side. Slowly the door swung open on its own, and the Guildmaster shoved it closed behind him as he descended the stairs. The dungeon itself had sixteen cells, but this was a dormant part of the cycle. The only other inhabitant other than Joker was an Ariados, who Gallade struck with a Hypnosis as he passed her by.

Third from the back on the left, the Floatzel laid comfortably across the cement ground, plucking at a guitar string and jotting down notes on a makeshift music sheet. He was humming what one could only assume to be the melody of the song he was in the process of writing, using the guitar string to confirm the pitch.

Standing in front of the prisoner with his arms crossed, Gallade opened his mouth and began to speak in a tongue that wasn't his own, and that was not built for him. Joker knew it well, but how the Guildmaster spoke it was sloppy and brutish, for it was not of this world. He spoke, through what appeared to be an accent, English. "I know what you are, Outworlder," he boldly claimed.

Joker looked up from his music with shock, then quickly shifted to a giddy grin, "I didn't know Pokémon could even speak that language. I applaud you for being able to learn it. It's quite difficult, even in the other world."

"So I was right," Gallade muttered to himself through his gritted teeth. "And you seem so casual about this. Do you know what I could do with the knowledge I have?"

"You could very well destroy my circus, I'd imagine. No one would come to our show if they knew the ringmaster was an Outworlder." Joker held the guitar string taut between his paws, at half the length of the full string, then plucked it with his fang like a piece of floss.

"I have no interest in your surface business," Gallade told him. "What interests me…" He cleared his throat and began to speak again in the tongue that was not of his world. "What interests me is that you've managed to worm your way in here, and I didn't even know it."

"You say that as though I'm not welcome here," Joker said with a mock hurt expression. "I haven't done any harm to anyone. Well, not any more harm than is normal in such a combat-oriented world."

"That's a lie," Gallade scoffed. "Your 'brother' is upstairs right now. Just a minute ago he had his face in his paws. He was lamenting you, lamenting his family, Joker."

"Buiz is here?" Joker sat up, an excited look on his face. "I haven't seen him in forever! I guess he did say he wanted to join a Guild or something…" His happy grin faded as he looked down at the floor with a sad smirk. "I really did think of him as a little brother, despite everything. He has every right to think bad of me now, I guess."

"I can't say I agree with you there," Gallade stated. "It isn't your fault that you're here now. You have my sympathy, good traveler. But, I am only an exception. Much of the world sees you as an abomination; a bad omen; a threat. As of now, there's nothing I can do about that." Gallade leaned back against the cell opposite Joker's with his arms loosely folded across his chest. "With a testimony from your brother, as well as my own admission of your confession, I could have you suspected of being a human. I would only need a few tests after that to condemn you. Taking your head would make me the good guy. Fact of the matter is, you're not welcome here. By killing you I'd be a hero. Now, isn't that a little…" Gallade went back to speaking in the tongue that was not his. "Fucked up?" he asked the Floatzel.

"Pokemon aren't that different from humans. You fear the unknown, and so you work to get rid of it. While it is true that condemning someone to death simply because of who they are is 'fucked up,' it isn't anything different than what goes on in my world." Joker shrugged. "I'm not sure what you'd accomplish by ratting me out, other than a boost in your already immaculate public image, but I won't protest if you do. I'm a criminal, after all. You, the warden, can do what you please to me. I'm fully prepared to be exposed, and honestly I didn't think it would even take this long for someone to find out."

"Again, I'll have to disagree with you. They don't fear an unknown. I shouldn't expect someone like you to be versed in our history." The Guildmaster cleared his throat and switched his language back to English once again. "You aren't the equivalent of a 'nigger' or a 'spic' here. You don't practice 'black magic' or any other made-up threat." He took a small breath and returned to his native tongue. "This isn't a purge of the undesirables. Don't misunderstand," he warned him. "As for your second point, I am the warden here as you say. However, killing you isn't what I'm after. Do not think of us as enemies. I can help you, Joker."

"Oh, really? I wasn't aware that I needed help," Joker replied in almost a snide tone.

"Not many of you are," Gallade answered him. "I don't mean 'rehabilitation' when I say help. I couldn't give a single shit what you do. Criminal acts will be punished no matter who you are. Joker… I can say with certainty that you know someone else who is a human. Who are they?"

"As they say, birds of a feather flock together," Joker grinned as he laid back down on his side. "I don't have any intention of telling you about my acquaintances. None of us are in any real danger, so I don't see why you have to know."

Gallade gently placed his hands together, consuming himself in a soft light. In an instant he warped inside the cell and sat across from Joker. "Of course you don't see why I have to know. You have your reasons. Maybe it's just ignorance. Maybe it's a lack of resources. Perhaps, it could be that you're afraid of what the answer would be. Most likely it's just simply wanting to protecting you. Who knows?" The Guildmaster leaned forward and gently tapped the end of the Floatzel's snout. "That's who," he said. "Whatever your reason may be, if you're willing, I can provide you with the answer," Gallade told him. "Ariados, she will wake up in about fifteen minutes. The full history would take much longer than that. An abridged version… ten minutes or so. Of course, I can skip that and just tell you the answer if you'd prefer."

"Sounds like story time to me," Joker smiled happily, "There's no way I'd skip it."

"Alright then, Joker." The Guildmaster shifted on the bench to fully face the Water-type. Dim blue light from the smooth luminescent plate in the ceiling cast an outline on the Psychic-type, casting a shadow upon Gallade's face. "This is a tale that has been lost to history for hundreds of cycles. It will be missing most of its details. You may not take notes. You may not ask for a full version. Most importantly, you may not tell anyone what I tell you here. Are we clear?"

"Crystal."

"Okay." The Guildmaster folded his hands and rested his chin upon them, leaning forward. His one red eye gazed down to a crack in the floor and refused to move. He took a sharp inhale of the cold, mildewy air that filtered in from the vents, and when he spoke, it did not sound like the proud Guildmaster. No longer was his voice that of the hero who slayed the mighty titan cycles ago, the incarnation of the law that held this land together. It was now just a grim murmur, barely loud enough for Joker to hear. "The following is a brief, butchered version of your kind's history in this land. Stay quiet, and pay attention. You will not hear this again."

...

Riley arrived back in Astraean in the late afternoon with another assignment from his Guildmaster finished. Having this downtime was something he hadn't been used to, especially since he hadn't been able to release some of his pent-up energy as he had yesterday. Upset though he may have been, Riley wasn't alone in these droning tasks, and he felt the pressure from his teammates to stop being an emotional burden on them. Most of his sulking had been internal as he waited for the period of punishment to pass, and for a more exciting job to come his way.

"Hey, Pyro," called Rose to the Charmander ahead of her. "Can you do me a favor?"

"I'm not gonna commit before I know what I'm doing," Pyro answered.

"I need you to get me a technique mineral for Riley," she said. "Iron Tail. We have the funds, and he's not going anywhere."

"Wait, really?" Such words awoke Riley into his usual juvenile excitement. "A new move?"

"Why do I have to buy it?" Pyro asked her. "And why now?"

"One, because the shopkeepers like you more, and two, we may as well try and make him somewhat useful," she answered.

"But-... Fine," he sighed. "I'll go pick up an Iron Tail. Where do you wanna meet up?"

"Either behind the Guild in the rocky outcrops, or somewhere outside of town. You know, where no one will get hurt."

"Hurt? What, are we sparring?" asked a hopeful Riley.

"Maybe a little," she shrugged.

"Yeah, alright. We didn't have anything else planned either," Pyro said, albeit reluctantly. "Behind the Guild sounds fine. It'll be a bit of a hike, but aside from a few slopes it means being quicker getting home."

"'Kay. See you in a bit," she said.

The Charmander branched off and took a left whilst the other two continued on the route to the Guild. Riley was grinning ear to ear as he waited in anticipation for his new move like a child waiting to get home to play with their new toy. At the base of the Guild's hill, there was another side path that went off to the right. It was barely even visible, and if Rose hadn't lead the way through it Riley would have never noticed it was there. Following it brought them around the hill and into a comparatively narrow stairway. From the look of it, anyone around Rhyperior's size would have had to find another way down. Rose stepped down first, and Riley soon after. The stairs were carved out of the stone to be perfectly smooth and parallel with each other, and they were cool to the touch of the Riolu's paw pads. The temperature only decreased as they went further and further down under more and more layers of shadows.

Riley was beginning to wonder why they would have such a neatly kept path for something that no one ever used, but he was caught off guard when halfway down the Roselia spun around and stared him dead in the eyes. "What are you?" she harshly asked, placing her hands on her hips and leaning forward. Whatever answer Riley would give, it was clear she made up her mind.

"What do you mean?" Riley asked back, noticeably withdrawn from her presence. He looked behind him nervously.

"I mean, none of this makes sense. And I think I know why. You're a human, aren't you?" she accused.

"I…" He hesitated. That mere second of silence already spelled his doom. An innocent person would have laughed that off or immediately just said 'no.' The corner of her lips formed into a grin as she saw him fall into her trap. Just play her game, he thought. Worse comes to worst, I can push her down the stairs and make a run for it. Riley cleared his throat and finally gave her an answer. "Yeah. And what're you gonna do about it?"

The thin smile opened up on her face as she began to laugh in the Riolu's face. She shook her head and looked down to the ground between them. "Man… I can't believe it took me this long to put it together. Waking up in a field with amnesia? It's all so obvious now."

"Just what the hell do y-"

"Relax, furball," she said, raising the blue floral hand between them. "I'm not gonna rat you out. In fact, I'm a human too."

"What?!" Realizing he shouted, Riley looked around anxiously to see if anyone had heard him, only for him to realize again that he's in a stairwell. Rose chuckled to herself. "You mean, you're-"

"Just as I said: a human. An outworlder. A traveler. Whatever you want to call it," she said.

"And what about Pyro?"

"Him? Oh, no, he was born here. He just found me one day and took me to the Guild," she answered. Riley, whilst staring intently at nothing in particular, stumbled backwards and sat upon one of the stairs. Rose did the same and sat on the step below his.

"So, your parents named you Rose, and you conveniently became a Roselia?" Riley thought aloud.

Rose laughed and shook her head. "No, no. It wasn't that convenient. I couldn't remember my name when I woke up, so I picked Rose. It was supposed to be ironic, but looking back on it, it's not that clever. I just sound like one of the Pokémon my sister would have named when she was six. Pyro was named in the same vein," she explained.

"You don't remember your name?" he pressed.

"No. Well, I think I do, but Rose kinda stuck with me," she said. "Changing it now would be a pain in the ass… Well, enough about me. What about you? Did anything come back for you yet?"

"Nothing," he answered. "All I have is a name."

"Is that it?" Rose asked. "After my first week, I had the image of my mother's face. Maybe, it differs from one traveler to another… You know, a few of my memories came to me through dreams. Did you have anything weird like that?"

"No, I-" He froze upon remembering days ago, waking up in a fright from being swarmed by those black squiggles, and those muffled voices. The name, Hank. The feelings the voices stirred. Indeed they were perplexing, but there was nothing to report in that dream that was useful information. It may as well all have been a drug trip. "Yeah, no. I got nothin'."

"Well, you shouldn't be too worried. Memories will come in due time," she said.

"How long have you been here, anyways?"

"Let's see," she muttered to herself. "It's probably been somewhere around one and a half cycles now."

"Damn. I was expecting, maybe, two months or so," said Riley.

"Nope. I've been looking for a way back, but shockingly I haven't found any leads," she continued. "It's not so bad here at least, so I'm in no rush."

"Huh. So… what does this mean now? What're we gonna do?" Riley asked.

"Nothing, really. There isn't anything to do. Just thinking about your whole circumstance was bothering me. We're gonna keep our mouths shut and keep on living as we had."

"Does Pyro know about any of this?"

"No, he does not," she answered with a hint of sternness. "And please keep it that way. If he found out I wasn't from here… Well, I don't know what he'll do, but I don't want to find out."

"Loud and clear. I won't say a word to him," he assured.

"Thank you. If anything comes up, just remember you're not alone," Rose promised him. She stood up and stretched her arms over her head, popping her back. "But 'til you do, consider yourself alone. Don't bring any of it up. None of it."

"I get it. Keep my trap shut," Riley grumbled. He stood up after her and watched as the small Grass-type began her journey down the stairs again. After asking all these questions, he felt his mouth open to pose one last one that had been gnawing at him since he saw her. "So how did it feel to suddenly be one foot tall?" he asked.

The Roselia froze. She turned around and stared into the Riolu, who, especially now that he was five steps above her, loomed over Rose with a quizzical expression. Anger flared inside her, but it was quickly diffused when she saw that it was a genuine question, instead of that patronizing grin that Kirlia would have given her. She shook her head and bitterly laughed to herself. "It was... even weirder when I first woke up as a Budew. Gaining a bit of height was nice, but I'm still waiting to have fingers again."

"You don't… but how do you hold things?"

"With my petals. Anatomy is weird here. In our world, Pokémon like Dunsparce would have gone extinct a long time ago," she explained. "If I had the resources I'd be studying how this world works. But, I don't. I'm just treading carefully so I don't get caught."

"I remember being off-balance when I first woke up," Riley told her. "What's the point of having a big head like this, anyways?"

"Yeah. It's not just us, either. When you evolve it takes a while for anyone to get used to their new form, not just us," she said. "Pyro should be back soon. Come- we don't want him to overhear us. Get excited again. Iron Tail, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." Riley's usual smile spread across his face, and he began bounding down the stairs again. He rushed by the Roselia, taking three or four steps in each stride, only a single slip from missing a step and tumbling the rest of the way down. Rose found herself smiling at the sight, overlaying his newly-revealed identity upon the Riolu. It all made sense now: he was just some kid doing what seems like fun. There was something alluring in that to her, despite how frustrating it would be at times.

She had been lost in thought, absently walking down the stairs, when she noticed that Riley had stopped at the bottom step. His head poked out of the stairway and far to the left, observing something that she could not see. Rose opened her mouth to speak, but she abruptly halted when she heard it: the thwack of a blade cleaving into wood. Twice, in fact, in rapid succession. Silently she began down the stairs again, listening to cleave after cleave, until she reached the bottom and peeked out with the Riolu.

Kirlia stood panting in the barren field with his dagger clutched in his right hand. His breaths were heavy, his lungs trying to push themselves out of his chest, but still he did not take a break. With his left hand as a medium for his telekinesis, Kirlia lifted up two thick wooden poles and set them upright on the ground. They were covered in deep scars from top to bottom, each one of them fresh. With a smirk on her face, the Roselia hopped down from the bottom stair.

"Well, isn't this a sight to behold," she said aloud. Kirlia spun around and glared at her with his dagger-arm cocked back. "I wonder what you-" In the blink of an eye a Teleport swept the Psychic-type away and out of her sight. The two logs collapsed to the ground with heavy thuds and slowly, slowly rolled their scarred bodies along the uneven floor of the barren, rocky outcrop. "...you're doing here all alone… Asshole," she cursed him. "You could've at least let me finish before bailing."

"The hell was that about?" Riley asked.

"Normally he doesn't train. Maybe he's shy about it," she bellowed, in case Kirlia was still within earshot.

"Who's shy?" The two turned to see Pyro shouting back at them from the stairs with a small gray gem in his hand.

"Kirlia," Rose shouted back. "He was training down here, and bolted when he saw us." This earned a short laugh from the Charmander.

Riley tilted his head to the side as he glanced at the small gem. "Is that the... the Iron Tail?"

Rose nodded. "They're made in Baltre, overseas to the west. They're strange, but it works, I promise. You'll get a kick out of this move. C'mon Pyro, get over here already."

"Alright, alright." The Charmander cautiously began to rush down the stairs with the gray gem clutched to his chest. Upon joining the group again, Pyro outstretched his arms and offered the gem to the Riolu, who eyed it eagerly and carefully. When it was handed over to him, Riley was surprised at how light it felt. It was like holding dust.

"Admittedly I'm surprised you're here this soon," Rose told him.

"Yeah, there wasn't much of a line at the shop," Pyro replied. "I would've been here even sooner, but I ran into Buizel and Luxio. They were gonna grab something to eat. Looked really gloomy."

"Without Kirlia?" Rose thought aloud.

"Nope. Luxio said he's been in bed ever since we got back from the desert," Pyro continued. "Must've hit him hard."

"A-anyways," Rose said, "time to get this done. Iron Tail, remember?"

"Right," Riley said, keeping his gaze fixed on the smooth gem in his paws. "So how do these things work?"

"Mentally. The technique mineral just kind of takes effect and takes the place of whatever move you want the least," she explained. "They're weird. Somehow they cut around training and go straight to muscle memory. It'll be hard to get used to it for a while, but it's only Iron Tail. Nothing too bad could happen."

A shiver ran up Pyro's spine. "Like the Venoshock incident."

Rose's reply came instantaneously through clenched teeth. "We don't talk about that."

"About what?" the Riolu asked.

She tossed her head from side to side to try and shake the memory away. "Careless mistakes. Don't worry about it," Rose murmured, casting a brief but sharp glance up at Pyro, who mentally fumbled before catching her signal.

"I-if you want to know more, you could always ask Ampharos. She's made a few of these gems," he damn near shouted in his haste to grab Riley's attention.

Riley bit, pocketing the 'Venoshock incident' for another time. The gem and the move it apparently contained captivated him more. "Who's that?" he asked.

"The Guild's technician," Pyro told him. "She usually stays in her room, but she does a lot around here. Like fixing the plate lights, or some of the forensic work for violent cases. But in her free time she's usually crafting orbs and gems."

"'Usually.' That's putting it lightly," Rose scoffed. "She's like a damn Ghost, emerging only in the middle of the night. Half the time I forget she even exists."

"Hm." Riley held the gem in both hands and raised it above his head. "So, how do I work this thing?"

"Simple. Put it against your forehead," Rose instructed. The Riolu did as she said, pressing the disk between his eyes so that it scraped against his muzzle. "Now close your eyes, and concentrate… Take deep breaths… That's good. Visualize the move... Let it become a part of you… Have it ta-" Before he knew it, the Fighting-type's tail was coated in a silver sheen as it was transmuted into an Iron Tail. A startled Riley threw the gray gem up in the air as the weight on his backside dragged him to the rocky floor flat on his ass. His teammates held in their laughter as a baffled Riley grasped his metal tail in his paws.

"Holy…" Riley grinned, his eyes mirroring the shine of his new move. "God damn, this is cool. Heavy, but cool."

"Of course it's heavy. It turns it into metal," Rose mocked. "You gonna sit there and gawk at it, or are you gonna test it out?"

"Test it, obviously," he beamed. The Riolu leaned forward and pushed himself to his feet, only to have gone a bit too hard and stumbled forward in a blind panic. Pyro lurched forward and grasped him by his arm to force him to stay upright. With restrained laughter, Riley shook his head and looked the Charmander in the eyes. "Thank you," he said.

"Don't mention it," Pyro insisted, retracting his claws.

"Well, for the save, too, but more for the move itself." Looking back at his silvery tail, Riley raised one foot off the ground and spun around. The Iron Tail moved with him, nearly bashing into the Charmander as the Fire-type leapt back. His movements were sloppy, to be expected, but the strength of being a Fighting-type was quickly giving him the balance Riley needed. "It'll be a hell of a lot more fun now."

"Yeah, just be careful with it," Pyro muttered. "It's like Rose said. We're not getting rid of you, so we may as well get serious about training you. You're one of us now, got it? I don't remember if we did it officially, but… Welcome to Team Hellraisers."

"I'm honored," Riley answered, sincerity masked by his glee.

"Enough of this," Rose interjected. "Come on already. Give the new move a spin!"

"On what?" Pyro asked her.

"You, of course." The Roselia pointed her red flower directly at the Fire-type, freezing him in his tracks. "He can't get any good experience from a few poles. What's the harm of some light sparring?" Riley perked his ears at the mere mention of the word.

"That's just it: light sparring," he repeated. "I'm not sure if he even knows how that's done."

"What, are you afraid of a rookie like him?" she taunted. "All you have to do is dodge for a while as he gets used to his Iron Tail. I'll even tag in for you. Keep on going until we drain the furball of all his energy. What say you, Riley? Sound like fun?"

"Lots of fun," Riley said eagerly. "C'mon, Pyro. I won't hit you too hard, if that's what you're afraid of."

"If that's how it is, I guess I have no choice," the Charmander sighed in an exaggerated manner. He put his claws behind his back and turned to face the Fighting-type. Orange flames spilled out of his mouth and lapped at his lips. The fire on the end of his tail surged with a sudden burst of energy. Playfully, Pyro continued. "I'll make you regret those words!"

The mock-match went on for hours as Riley attempted to use his new move in tandem with his others, and through this he learned that Iron Tail had replaced Counter as a weapon in his arsenal. It was no great loss, and it was more than made up for by the exhilaration of the rest of the duel. Though it was not nearly as intense as the battlefield in the desert, it was still remarkably fun for everyone involved. By the time the sun set, Pyro and Rose were covered in bruises, and Riley had a fair share of his own. Patches of his fur were singed and cuts lined his arms and chest, and the exhausted trio lumbered back up the stairway. Blaziken paid them no mind as the three entered the Guild's cabin and descended down the ladder in the corner. After arriving during the tail end of dinner, they grabbed tonight's meal (sandwiches and a roasted apple for dessert) and retreated to their room, where they collapsed for the night like everyone else.

...

It didn't take long for everyone to pass out, and after twilight had ended the only noise was that of a low collection of snores. This was normal. During the night there were only a few sets of eyes still open. Some of the Guild staff would work late into the night, eventually dropping in the midst of their work into a heavy slumber. On a typical night, the only active being in the Guild would be Dusknoir.

So imagine the night guard's surprise when he overheard and witnessed Kirlia at the base of the cliff with his dagger locked against his arm. In a flurry of rapid motions the boy savagely ripped apart the wooden poles with the blade. His breaths were heavy but his actions unrelenting and brutal. Every time he hacked off a piece it would fly back into line with his Psychic, forcing his victim to stay in one piece.

"Hmm…" Dusknoir tilted his head as he studied the boy from the top of the cliff. His glowing red eye rolled in his vacant socket. "Hmmm-mmmmm…" The ghost hummed to himself in his perplexity as he watched the Guildmaster's son move faster and faster, as if taking a second to rest would give the pole the opportunity to retaliate with all the hatred that had been beaten into it. "Interesting," Dusknoir muttered to himself. "Such basic training, but performed with such intensity…" He leaned over the cliff edge with his large hands folded behind his back to carefully observe the child. Abruptly Kirlia stopped in his tracks, the tip of his blade mere inches away from another cut into the pole. The boy raised his eyes to glare up at the Ghost-type looming over him.

"If you're trying to be sneaky, maybe you shouldn't talk to yourself," Kirlia bellowed up to him.

"My apologies. I did not intend to interrupt your exercises," Dusknoir assured him. "Please, continue like I'm not even here."

"Seighast," the boy called to him. Dusknoir twitched upon that word, reflexively clenching and unclenching a fist behind his back. "Don't you have guard duty to attend to?"

"Oh, my… Now, isn't this something. I'm certainly in a pickle," he said, just loud enough for Kirlia to hear. "I wonder where you picked that up? I haven't heard that in quite a while. 'Seighast…'"

"Just turn around and leave me alone," Kirlia ordered.

"I'll respect your orders," Seighast replied, "but it's perplexing why you're doing this in secret. Being honest, I never could get a read on you." Kirlia bit down on his lip and aimed the end of his dagger at the single glowing eye of the Ghost-type. Dusknoir smiled and shook his head. "Ah, the angst of the youthful," he sighed. "You're doing nothing wrong, so I don't need to stop you. Having a bad attitude isn't a crime. Hopefully you'll retire soon and get yourself a good rest for tomorrow."

"Tch." Kirlia turned away from the Ghost-type and cocked back his arm. Like nothing ever happened he began his savage dance again against a foe that could neither fight back or flee.

"Perplexing, indeed," Seighast whispered. The ghost turned around and began drifting towards the porch again. He hummed his distant melody in his low, jolly voice, drowning out the sound of Kirlia mutilating his inanimate prey.