Chapter XXIX

"Bailey, please don't be a pain in the arse. Please- dammit."

Nova felt the breath leave her stomach as her Staravia hurtled into her, forcing them both to tumble onto the grass.

"By Arceus, I swear, Barry can see better than you, Bailey."

The training for them had been simple. Nova had marked a small cross onto a tree with her sword, and all the damned Staravia had to do was swoop towards the mark and scratch a line through it. Easy. Simple.

And, after hours, Bailey still hadn't done it.

He kept swerving at the last second, crashing into Nova or a tree or the bloody ground instead. It made no sense to the gladiator; his wing was basically healed up, he could see perfectly fine (she asked him to caw the number of fingers she was holding up multiple times), and his claws were happily scratching into everything else.

So why wouldn't he scratch the damned cross?

"…perhaps he overthinks?..."

"What?"

Her shadow shook a little, almost like a shrug. "…not everyone is like you and rhys, nova. some pokémon actually like using their heads…"

Nova smiled as Bailey snuggled against her for a second before soaring back up, ready to rush into the tree. He flew so quickly – so damned quickly – his wings moving in harmony with the wind, his claws curled, his beak set.

But, in the last second, she saw the panic in his eyes. The way his wings faltered for a second, making him swerve just that little bit – enough to miss the mark.

It reminded her so much of that time when she had danced with Lucas in the rain. Tripping her own feet, even though it was a simple step forward and back. Tripping because she had been thinking about it too hard.

"I have an idea," Nova said suddenly. "Bailey, drink some ale."

"…nova, not everything can be solved by drinking…"

The gladiator, though, was already ripping through her pack, searching for her last flask of ale. She laughed as Bailey choked slightly on it and made a face and, after setting down the flask, she held the Staravia's beak close to her face.

"Now, stop thinking. Do what me mother says: dance with the winds."

And, this time, when the Staravia swooped down from the sky and rushed towards the cross, he didn't flinch. He didn't hesitate for a second. He just let the air move with him, let the ale kick in like a second wind, and flicked his talons onto the tree. Drawing a perfect line through the cross.

Nova swallowed down some of the ale herself, just to celebrate.

"You bloody did it!" she called out, grinning as her Staravia came to sit on her head. "I just need to ale you up before you ever fight anyone, aye?"

Bailey cawed. Darkrai sighed.

"…i would advise against it, but you wouldn't care, would you?..."

"Nay, I wouldn't. Bailey, take the last sip – this time, I'm making you do it with yer eyes closed."

It was late at night by the time Nova and Bailey decided to walk back towards Lord Backlot's mansion, where they had been invited to rest. Apart from the yelling in a distant inn, they moved in silence, the grass cushioning the gladiator's feet, the lamps giving her both warmth and light.

"…someone is following us…"

Instantly, Nova's hand moved to her sword. "Who?"

She never heard his answer. For, in that second, the lamps went out.

Bailey screeched a warning. In the blackness of night, Nova twisted and leapt sideways, flattening herself against a tree. She felt something punch her shoulder, heard Staravia caw again as there was a thump, a crash, and an angry hiss of pain.

Then, Nova brought out of her own sword – listening for the breath, looking for the one patch that seemed darker than the night. She found the man – she thought, at least, it was a man – and swung her blade down as she saw him reach for her Staravia.

She couldn't see his face, but she saw him touch it and cry out. That's where her blade had landed – just below his eye, slicing down to his chin. And, before she could reach out and grab him or stab him, he was running away, the crunch of his boots softened by the grass.

Nova considered chasing after him. But, in that second, she saw Darkrai crawl out of her shadows – felt the fear grip at her stomach tightly.

Someone had tried to attack her.

Why?

Bailey landed on her hand and cawed softly. Nova shook her head.

The man was already long gone into the night. And she needed to sleep and rest before the legionary battle tomorrow.

Besides, she had left a long cut down his face. It would be much easier to find him in the light of day.

"Let's go," she whispered. "We won't worry about Oreburgh tonight. We need to rest."

Even as she walked, though, her Staravia and Darkrai stayed behind. Both of them staring down at a piece of paper that had fluttered from the man's hand. A piece of paper that said:

"Turn back, November. Do not try to win tomorrow. Remember Bebe. Your mother could be next…"

Bailey lifted the note in the air and tossed it towards the Darkrai. Demanding he read it.

But the Darkrai only let the note drift back to the ground.

"…i like to keep things interesting…"

With Darkrai back in her shadow the next morning, Nova didn't feel fear. And with the food laid out on the table of the Backlot Mansion – with bread and jams and all types of potatoes – Nova couldn't even be mad.

Instead, as she shoved a slice of pie into her mouth, she mumbled, "I think someone tried to kill me last night."

Lord Backlot and Lady Spiral looked at her, eyes wide, as she casually stuffed another bread crust into her mouth. Only Barry looked completely unfazed as he asked, "Who?"

"I dunno. I didn't get ta' see. I did leave a good slice down the bastard's face, though."

"I'll notify the guards right away," Lady Spiral said. "A cut down the face, you say?"

Nova waved away her concern. "Don't worry 'bout it."

"We must worry, Nova. We are forever in your debt."

"You've done enough. You've fed us, given us rooms to sleep in, helped up bathe…" She paused as she glanced at Barry, who was using the pointy spoon – a fork, Lady Spiral had explained – to scoop up some stew.

"I do not understand how this works," Barry grumbled, sticking the empty fork into his mouth. "This bloody spoon won't- ow! I think the spoon bit me tongue or somethin'?"

Both Nova and Lady Spiral rolled their eyes.

"…men…"

"Say, Gladiator Barry," Lady Spiral suddenly said. "Would you like to bathe this morning? I can help you to the tubs."

Nova frowned. "He can bathe himself, Lady Spiral."

"Naw, Nova," Barry quickly cut in. "If a pretty lass asks me to bathe with her, I'll always say yes. Stop ruining me fun."

"She's married, Barry. And pregnant."

"Aye, but that don't make her less pretty to me."

Lady Spiral laughed at that. "Don't worry, November. I planned on bathing him by dumping him into the sea."

"Okay, now you're startin' to sound a whole lot less pretty."

Even then, Barry let Lady Spiral escort him out of the dining chambers. Which left poor Nova with Lord Backlot, who was running hands through his grey hair, his thick brows furrowed. He took one glance at the gladiator across the table from him, shuddered as she grinned at him, and was just about to excuse himself when Nova suddenly called out to him.

"Why don't you like Legionary Wake?"

And so, Lord Backlot sighed and sank back into his chair. "You've met him. He's improper, rude, doesn't wear a shirt but dresses up as ladies for his plays. By Arceus, he's a pirate. He's…" He sighed as Nova rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"Nay, you're right," Nova said. "I don't understand. I am from Twinleaf, after all. So is me best friend. But you should know that there's a knight who loves me, even though I am from Twinleaf."

"Your point?"

Nova shrugged. "If this knight can look past where I came from, then why can't you?"

"That knight of yours probably comes from nothing."

"Aye, but you know who came from something?" Nova asked. "Lady Vernia. My mother."

He gave her the same look that everyone else seemed to give her when she told them. His eyes widened, he scanned her from head to toe – spending an extra second looking at her long black hair – and took a sharp breath. "Your mother was Lady Vernia? The dancer?"

"Aye. And me father was some bastard of a man who got her pregnant and tried to kill that baby by pushing her down the stairs."

"Lass, I-"

"And I am that baby," Nova cut in, standing up to slam her fist into the table. "My mother's legs are broken because my arsehole of a father wanted me dead."

Lord Backlot went silent, but Nova saw the pity in his eyes. The shock.

But she didn't want it.

"I could have been different," she told him. "I could have been a nice lady like yer daughter. Or a dancer. I could have travelled all around Sinnoh with a gown instead of a fucking sword. But I didn't, because some arsehole of a man couldn't see past the differences."

"November," Lord Backlot finally said. "I'm sorry."

Nova shook her head. "I know you are. Because your daughter fell in love with a pirate, and now they are about to have a child. And if you want your child to be nothing like the bitch I am, then I suggest you hurry up and start looking past those differences, Backlot."

For a while, neither of them said anything. Nova just stuffed herself with food, shoving some onto a plate to take to her Pokémon in the room, while Backlot eyed her carefully.

Only when she stood to leave did he speak.

"I owe you, November of Twinleaf," he said quietly. "If there is anything I can do for you…"

Nova only waved her hand, not stopping to face him.

"I'll think on it, Lord Backlot. I'll think on it."

While Nova hadn't expected another grand arena as she had seen in Veilstone, she certainly hadn't expected her next legionary battle to be within a tavern.

The tables were filled with sailors and seamen with their leather caps, ruffled cravats, and greatcoats; their scarred faces and teeth made of silver; their pipe smoke, gleaming blades, and feral smiles. Even Rhys the Luxio, the only Pokémon Nova had brought with her, had the sense to bite down his growl as one splashed some ale towards him.

Wake's own seat was made of bleached coral and bones, and he grinned as the gladiators piled into the room, his leg propped lazily onto a table.

"This is how it works," he said. "I hold my legionary battle once a week – save the time of the Spring Ball and the Veilstone Legionary. Each week, I get the ships ready, and you gladiators are separated into ships, and you race. First cape to reach the shore wins."

"Great!" Barry cried out from beside Nova, and she flushed as heads of both gladiators and pirates turned to stare at them. "When do we start?"

Wake winked. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" another one of the gladiators called out. "Then why're we here now?"

"To decide who the cap'ns of the ship are, of course, and who wears the capes." Wake stood, then, and only then did Nova realise that he held some capes in his hand – capes of different colours, of different fabrics. "It's easy. Raise yer hand if you want to be cap'n, and if two folks want it, they shall duel."

There were two capes Nova could see – an orange one, and a gold one. And, from the corner of her eye, she saw one gladiator shoot his hand into the air.

"I want to be cap'n of the gold ship," he said.

And, as Nova turned to face him, she felt her stomach drop.

The gladiator had a scratch running down his cheek. Right down to his chin.

"He's the one," Nova whispered to Barry. "He… The bastard tried to kill me!"

Wake was just about to hand over the gold cape to the gladiator when Nova raised her hand.

"I want to be cap'n of the gold ship."

Everyone turned to roll their eyes at her. Even Wake frowned as he said, "Lass, no one has claimed the orange ship. You can take that, if you so please?"

"No," Nova quickly said, turning to the gladiator with the long cut down his face. She saw him flinch, saw his face pale as she said, "I want the gold ship. And I suppose we must duel. Rhys?"

All she had to do was point, and the Luxio was off.

He leapt up onto the table, and as he reached for the gladiator, the man's Floatzel stood in his way. Water flew from his mouth, but Rhys was a step quicker – lightning bursting from his body, turning the water into hissing mist.

And, by the time the rest of the gladiators had fanned the mist from their eyes, they saw that it was no longer a Luxio straddling the Floatzel – but a Luxray.

The gladiator with the scarred face gasped, and even Nova felt her throat catch as she saw the fury in Rhys's gaze, the cold ruthlessness.

"Rhys, calm down-"

"…he is angry, nova. someone nearly killed his favourite gladiator, and he hadn't been there to protect you…"

The Floatzel raised his hand to slap away Rhys, but the Luxray was already plunging his claws into its stomach, sluices of blood arching off his nails. Then, with a single swipe, the Floatzel was rolling off the table and onto the floor, moaning in agony.

"Rhys, I need you to calm down-"

But the Luxray was far from done.

He jumped at the gladiator – the one who had tried to kill his Nova – and brought his claws into his braids, nails clawing down the man's face, down to his throat-

"Rhys, stop!"

There were cries of terror and outrage across the tavern as Rhys worked, face twisted, teeth bared, red on his face, hot and thick as the man flailed and cried because, oh, Arceus, the blood-

Nova shoved her way to her Luxray, yanked him back by the tail, and snarled.

"I said stop."

Her Luxray didn't even growl back. He just looked at her, startled, eyes wide as he took in the horror in her eyes. And, for a sick second, the electric-type worried that his owner no longer loved him, that she truly and genuinely feared him, that his attempt at vengeance had made things worse-

Then, Nova leaned in and hugged the Luxray – even though the blood dripped from his fur and onto her.

"I love you, you nonce," she whispered. "And I need you to scare off all the other gladiators. Act like you're batshit mad. Can you do that for me?"

He mostly certainly could. So, Nova pushed him away, crying out some bullshit about how her own Luxray had bitten her. Then, Rhys leapt towards the other gladiators, grinning wickedly as many of them backed away, as few of them asked their Pokémon to fight – only to have those Pokémon shriek and run out of the tavern.

While he did that, Nova ran to the bleeding man – the one who had tried to kill her only a day ago. Rhys had done a good job on him; blood was spurting from his face, and his breaths were thin as he glanced up at her.

"Why did you try to kill me last night?"

He spat blood at her. "Piss off."

Nova rolled her eyes. Reached for a glass of ale. Poured it all over his bleeding face. Listened to him scream.

"Why did you try to kill me last night?"

Panting, the man shook his head. "Please, lass, I can't tell you. I'll die. I swore that I wouldn't tell…"

"You're about to die now, arsehole. Let me call my Luxray-"

"No! Please!"

"Then tell me why the hell you tried killing me."

He took a long, wheezing breath, blood dripping from his head, down his braids, into his mouth as he said, "I was asked to."

"By who?"

"I can't tell, lass." He raised his hands in defence as Nova grabbed another glass of ale. "Please, lass! Don't hurt me! I didn't mean for this to happen. He said that, if I couldn't kill you, I was supposed to leave a note… and so I left the note! I never was gonna hurt you…"

He glanced up, looking for anyone to help him. But with Rhys blasting lightning everywhere, forcing mist and dust and smoke to waft from the corners of the room, no one could see a damned thing. No one could even hear his squeals of protest over Luxray's hissing.

"A note?" Nova asked. "What note?"

"The one I left for you…"

"What did it say?"

The man winced. "I wasn't supposed to read it. I didn't write it…"

"What did it say?"

"Something about a lass named Bebe! About remembering her and you stopping the Gladiator Games!"

That stunned Nova enough to send her staggering back, the glass of ale dropping from her hand and onto her boots.

The man made it sound as if he didn't even know who Bebe was. But if the note said to remember her…

She remembered the note that Joy had read upon finding Bebe's body. And, though she felt no fear with the Darkrai eating away at it, she felt a sick pain in her heart as she realised.

Whoever had ordered this man to kill her had also ordered the death of Bebe. She was sure of it.

Just as she was about to grab the gladiator by the collar and threaten to rip his throat out if he didn't give her a name, she felt Wake's hand grab her by her shoulder and force her back.

"Nova," the pirate was saying, "I don't know what has gotten into you and that Luxray of yours, but you better fucking stop."

One glance at the pirate's stern eyes was enough to make her nod slowly and bow her head. "Sorry, Legionary Wake."

"Sorry?" With a grin, the pirate tussled her hair and tossed the gold cape at her. "Nothing to be sorry for. Lass, that was the fiercest duel I've ever bloody seen. I should be thanking you, but I won't, because you've destroyed me favourite tavern. Nonce."

Nova laughed at that. From the corner of her eye, she saw Lady Spiral rushing to the bleeding gladiator, already asking for someone to call a healer. She saw Rhys, bounding up to her, smiling as she reached out to hug him.

And, as she held her Luxray tight, Wake called out, "Gladiators! I expect to see everyone here by noon! We'll have tidied up this tavern, and as per tradition, to celebrate the start of the challenge tomorrow, we shall drink!"

Barry shouted in agreement. The few gladiators that hadn't run out of the tavern also cheered, though many of them stared at Nova and her Luxray. Sizing her up. No doubt wondering if they could ask to not be on her ship.

Though Nova couldn't stop thinking of the gladiator she had duelled – that Rhys had duelled for her – and his words about Bebe, she turned to Legionary Wake.

"Say," she said, "Lord Backlot owes me a favour, nay?"

Legionary Wake furrowed his brow. "Aye?"

Nova grinned.

"I know exactly what I need of him."

"I truly detest this," Lord Backlot was hissing, "and I truly detest you."

Nova only grinned. Of all things to ask the noble to do, she had asked him to drink with her at the tavern – if only to see him shudder and squirm as pirates reached out to slap his back.

"Everyone, let's all drink to me father-in-law!" Wake was calling out. "It's his first time in these taverns!"

Everyone – gladiators and pirates alike – cheered, tossed their heads back, and drank. Wake approached Backlot, who was still staring at his daughter; Lady Spiral had found herself a place on her husband's coral-and-bone chair, and though she didn't touch any ale, she was laughing as she spoke to pirates, as they suggested the most ridiculous names for her unborn child.

"Please do not touch me," Backlot was muttering to Wake.

The Legionary's hand was dangerously close to his father-in-law's hair as he said, "Only if you drink a whole glass of ale in one go."

"Absolutely not. I have class. I will not disrespect-"

"He's only saying that because he can't handle his ale!" Lady Spiral called out from her little throne.

Lord Backlot scowled. "Oh, give me that."

Everyone watched as Backlot snatched the ale from Wake and drank it all – not leaving a single drop in the glass. The gladiators and pirates hooted, and even Lord Backlot was fighting back a smile as Wake raised his hand in surrender.

Beside her, Nova heard Barry say, "Did he do it? Drink it all?"

"Aye," she told him. "One go. He's already on his second one."

"Bloody brilliant."

"…what will be bloody brilliant is seeing his face in the morning when he remembers all of this…"

Barry snorted. "I'll sneak into his bloody room just so I can hear what he has ta' say."

"…you assume he'll be sleeping in his room tonight…"

Nova didn't say anything as her shadow and Barry murmured in low voices, sounding much like gossiping old crones. Instead, her gaze darted around the tavern, moving over the damage she and Rhys had caused – a few broken tables, charred walls, a shattered window.

Then, she saw him. The gladiator she had duelled in the morning. He was sitting at a table, by himself, bandages wrapped all around his face, stained red.

Nova instantly excused herself, handing her glass of ale to Barry before strolling over to the table.

"Hello again," she said.

The gladiator's eyes went wide, searching around for a Pokémon. There was none; Nova had let them all rest in the Backlot Mansion. She wished, for a second, that she had brought Rhys – especially seeing how close this lad was to pissing himself.

"I won't start a fight here," she reassured him. "I just need to know a few things."

"Aye."

Nova nodded slowly. "The man who asked you to kill me – or the one who wrote the note – why does he hate me?"

"In all truth, I dunno," he told her, so blankly that she knew it had to be true. "He just offered me a ton of gold, told me you were a threat to me, anyways, and that killing you now would save me a lot of trouble. He just doesn't want you to win, I think. He said people can't know who you are."

"Is he my father?"

He shrugged. "He'd be a pretty darn young father, I reckon, if he was. All I know is that he wants you dead, and it's freaking hard, you know? You're never by yourself, and you even heard me coming last night. How the hell did you hear me coming? I was so quiet…"

Nova didn't bother explaining that she hadn't, in fact, heard him. It had been Darkrai.

"Is it a legionary?" she asked. "Fantina? Volkner?"

The gladiator glanced around, his knuckles white as he squeezed the table.

"Look, lass," he said to her, his voice a mumble beneath his bandages. "It's not safe to tell you. There could be spies everywhere. So… I'll write a note tonight with his name on it. Tomorrow, I'll choose your ship and slip the note into your pocket. Aye?"

It sounded like a fair plan. In fact, it was such a great plan that Nova felt light afterwards. She went back to Barry, back to drinking, back to dancing with pirates and asking Lady Spiral if she could name her future child Gussy. She even challenged Backlot to see who could drink the most ale, and though both of them lost to Barry of all people, they both laughed at the defeat.

By the end of the night, after stumbling with Wake on a table while they tried to act out The Nigh is Twigh, Nova – despite the ale – felt good. Great.

She would know who killed Bebe tomorrow.

The plan was so perfect. She couldn't read whatever name the lad would write, sure. But Darkrai could. And he would tell her. Then, she could work on revenge.

It was a perfect plan.

So perfect that, the next morning, when Legionary Wake announced that the gladiator who was supposed to give her the name was found dead by the taverns, Nova hadn't even been surprised.

Especially when she found out that it was death by poison.

This chapter was certainly a ride from beginning to end, but I loved it. Okay, to be fair, I enjoy writing every chapter. Nova's story is something I'm so fiercely passionate about.

Next chapter, it's legionary battle time. And, since it'll technically be the Valentine's Day chapter but I can't quite afford to drag Lucas or Riley all the way to Pastoria for love triangle complications, I've decided to give Leila the Roselia a bit of love. Because nothing quite screams cliché Valentine's Day gift like a rose.

Love y'all!