Chapter XXIV: Semper
Aurina Valley – Tartarus Mountains
The mystery dungeon stood like a spear piercing the sky itself, towering far, far, above the valley and the puny convoy that walked its cragged passes.
Flame could not tear his eyes away from the colossal mountain whose summit was obscured in gray clouds. Atop the Arcanine, he kept his snout raised as she trotted behind the Teutonii convoy. This was it: the mystery dungeon they were to escape through. This was his final destination.
A sense of awe and excitement crashed into him at the thought, leaving in its wake only some odd tingling. Earlier he'd had his doubts, but now, from this close, there was no mistaking it. He pulled aside the hem of his hood to look around. The entire valley was inundated with the fiery orange glow of early dawn, but the mountain itself was stuck in a cloudy gray. It stood there, dreary and shaded—even at angles where the sun's rays clearly should have hit its granite slopes.
Flame felt his breathing pick up pace as an excited smirk seized his cheeks. So the mystery dungeon was not in the mountain; it was the mountain itself!
So focused was he on his objective, that he'd nearly forgotten the feminine voice droning softly in his head.
"I have a few girl friends in the town," Brynn said, still turned to him. "I've known them since I was a kit, and—ah, they'll be so excited to meet you!" She let out a physical squeal, cupping her hands in her lap. "Not just them: I bet all the girls in our new home will be swooning over you."
Flame felt that he should have blushed at that thought, yet he said nothing, and merely kept his face steeled as he watched the rocky path ahead.
"Oh! Oh! We should get a house together! Obviously we'd get two beds—if, if you, uh, if you'd prefer to—but I still think it's a great idea! Would you like that, Herr Flame?"
"Huh?" He blinked and pulled the hem of his hood, flinching slightly at her expectant stare. "Wha—y-yeah, yeah."
Only when Brynn beamed and Flame went back through her words did he realise what he'd just agreed to.
He immediately bit his tongue. "No—I, I mean… maybe. I'll have to think about it, okay?"
Brynn's ears dropped slightly. "… Okay. Sorry."
With that settled, Flame turned back to watch the dungeon looming in the sky. Whatever guilt he felt at dismissing her like that was replaced by sheer adrenaline. He was so close to his objective—he couldn't afford to be distracted now.
The convoy was marching up a steep forested hill, surrounded by slender pine trees and flowers and following the course of a large creek. Somewhere at the very top of the hill, beyond the trees and vegetation obstructing his view, he could just faintly make out the first few anomalous ripples shimmering high up in the air.
The sight sent Flame's heart into a frenzy. He squinted his eyes and tried to estimate the distance: it was impossible to tell exactly when the dungeon started, but within a few minutes at most they would reach the hilltop. Once that happened, he would know when to set his plan in motion.
Breathing in shakily, he clutched the small stun seed he was holding underneath his cape. It was, at least in theory, a simple plan. That meant little chances of messing everything up, of ruining perhaps his only chance at the future he dreamt of.
No, no, no… He gritted his teeth, eyes shut. Not now…
Breathe. He needed to breathe. He needed to hold his seed tightly, too; but first and foremost he needed to breathe. Why did he have to get nervous now, to jeopardise all these sleepless nights of planning over a few nerves?
As Flame sucked in one large breath after another, he concentrated on the incessant snaps and crunches of pine needles being crushed under the convoy's feet. He focused on the wind rushing into his hood, and blowing back the loose ends of his oversized cape…
Suddenly, a familiar hand settled on his shoulder.
"Do you see the dungeon, my child?"
Flame jolted in his saddle and nearly dropped the stun seed in his claws. "Wh-what are you—" He whipped around, before peering up at Daedalus. He blinked. "Uh, y-yeah. It's the mountain, isn't it?"
"Indeed." Daedalus looked up through the treetops, hand firmly on his shoulder. "We are not very far, now. Once we are inside, I beg you: stay close to me. Leave all the fighting to your comrades unless strictly necessary."
Outwardly Flame maintained his composure, but internally he wanted to scream. Not now! Why did it have to talk to him right now?
"I can handle myself," Flame replied, perhaps a bit too forcefully. He quickly bit his tongue, feeling a small pang of guilt. "L-look, I appreciate that you're worried, but … I'll be fine."
"Hm, yes," Daedalus stared down at him. "You are stronger than you seem. I said so myself, did I not? Perhaps I worry too much…"
With shaky claws, he pulled the hem of his hood aside to better look around. They were further up the dirt track, still flanked by pine trees and shrubbery. Judging by the number of Teutonii in front of him, he was somewhere in the middle of the column. He bit his lip; every part of his plan relied on him being at the rear. If only Daedalus would go away…
"I have thought extensively of our conversation last night."
Flame's heart twitched; he lifted his wide eyes to the Dusknoir's, locking gazes. Did it suspect…?
"Wh-why?" he stammered, before forcing himself to smile. "I—I mean, I'm feeling better now! I was just having a moment of … c-crisis, I guess. But… you were there for me, right?"
"That is precisely what troubles me, my child."
Flame wordlessly held Daedalus' gaze as it continued to float beside his Arcanine. Somewhere from within the forest came a flying-type's chirp.
"Although you are strong," Daedalus said warmly, "we cannot forget the extent of the trauma you suffered. You need me by your side, Flame." Its eye drifted downwards. "And soon, I will have to leave you again."
A single chuckle left Flame's nostrils. He looked off to the side, and watched the thin, greening underbrush go by as he produced a somber smile. If only it knew…
"It's not your fault," he spoke, still looking away. "W-we're in a struggle for survival, right? Our people are." He played with the stun seed under his cape and shut his eyes. "Besides, you've already done so much for me…"
"Not nearly enough," Daedalus muttered back, drifting off towards the head of the column. "Not nearly enough…"
Flame glanced down and bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. He wanted to say something, to prove the Dusknoir wrong—perhaps to hear its voice for a little longer, too.
Yet when he lifted his eyes again, he jolted up: the vegetation around them was nearly gone, replaced by greying rocks and the occasional bush. He quickly pulled aside the hems of his hood to look around. To his left, off the edge of the path they were on, he could see hundreds below into a steep-looking rock face. The path barely granted the convoy enough space to march in double column: to their right rose an enormous granite wall, too tall for him to see the top.
Again, Flame's heart thumped faster and faster. The mountain was looming even closer in front of them, jutting up into the heavens, but the distortions in the air—the mystery dungeon's threshold—started much sooner. So soon, in fact, that it took him scarcely a few seconds to spot where it began: it was at the end of this windy cliffside path.
It was in that cold heartbeat that the realisation struck him.
It's time…
From atop his saddle, Flame shook in a sudden impulse of terror. His plan—he had to enact his plan!
With shaky claws he reached down to the saddle's side, unhooked his bag, and lifted it to his lap. Flame bit his lip, glanced to the Teutonii marching around him. They were but a few minutes away from the dungeon, now—surely this wouldn't look suspicious. Right?
With no time to answer his own question, he slipped a paw into his bag and pulled out the items he'd prepared: two plain seeds. For a couple of heartbeats he just sat there, flicking his eyes between the seeds and the Arcanine underneath him. He hadn't quite thought of the specifics of his plan. Was it better to give her one first, or…?
Realising that there wasn't much mountain path left, Flame threw all caution to the wind and shoved one of the two seeds in his mouth. He bit down on the hard shell and winced slightly when some of the bitter powder within fell onto his tongue.
He squeezed his eyes. How can Gaius eat this stuff?
Nevertheless, he resisted the urge to vomit and crunched the shell as loudly as he could. It was when he peeled his eyes open that he found the Arcanine's muzzle tilted back to glance at him. Flame grinned with joy; he quickly swallowed what little he could stomach.
"H-here." He extended her the other plain seed. "You can have one."
For whatever reason, the Arcanine did nothing but stare at the paw he'd extended. A single heartbeat turned into far too many, and Flame found himself moving his lips in silent fervent prayer.
Just as his paw started to quiver, though, the Arcanine lapped up the seed in her tongue. Flame let out a small squeal of joy as she turned to look ahead again, making a thankful purr with her throat as she chewed loudly.
Flame promptly wiped the saliva-coated palm on his cape, yet laughed regardless. This was the fourth seed she'd accepted today. He'd gained her trust—he had to, by now!
But he was still near the middle of the column, and all his plan amounted to nothing so long as that was the case.
Step two, breathed Flame.
"Hey." He leaned closer to her ear. "C-could you slow down a bit? My stomach's feeling all—"
The Arcanine turned back with a perplexed face and Flame blinked, unsure what to make of it. Then, after a moment, it clicked: they spoke different languages.
Sighing, he lifted his eyes to gaze at the rest of the convoy, watching them all as they marched alongside the cliffside path. He needed someone to translate for him. Gods, not Daedalus—he couldn't risk drawing Daedalus back here again.
As Flame's eyes scanned the pokémon in front of him, he spotted Brynn sat atop her Gogoat just a few rows of Teutonii ahead. He perked up in no time.
"B-Brynn! Brynn!"
The Braixen turned back in alarm, and Flame immediately bit his lip. No, no, he'd sounded too panicked—he needed to stay calm. Calm. He gripped his ride's mane and took deep breaths as Brynn and her Gogoat slowed down, and other Teutonii surpassed them.
When they finally squeezed in the spot next to him, he was taken aback by the look on her face—her ears slightly flattened, looking at him as if vaguely afraid.
"Herr Flame?" she said, her voice quiet. "What's wrong?"
"N-nothing," he blurted before glancing away. Was she still sad from earlier? "Well, no, uh, I meant—c-can you tell my ride to slow down a little? I'm feeling a bit … s-sick. In the stomach."
"Oh, of course." Her eyes softened. "Do you want me to tell Lord Daedalus, or—"
"No," he interrupted her, then forced himself to smile. "I, I don't want to make him worry. That's all."
It was a tense, trembling smile, yet somehow it was enough: she returned it. Brynn held his gaze for several heartbeats, before she uttered something in that harsh language of theirs that got the Arcanine to whine in something resembling pity.
And then she began to slow down.
Flame's breath choked; he refused to believe this was working. And yet, he watched as Teutonii began to overtake them. More than a few blushed or bowed as they passed him by. Soon, he was riding near the tail of the convoy with only one Dewott behind him.
Donning an incredulous smile, he patted the side of the Arcanine's head. "Thank you…" he whispered. "Thank you so much…"
The Arcanine purred back, and Flame glanced away in shame. No, he couldn't let the guilt affect him—not when he was so close. He would need to be fast—and break free of this stupid cape, too.
In fact, they were nearing the path's end, now. When he craned his neck up, he could see it: another hundred metres and the narrow cliffside path widened into a small muddy plateau, and a little ways after that the air began distorting and draining in colour.
Teeth gritted together, Flame slung his bag around his shoulder. Step three. Freedom.
Inside his cape he clutched the stun seed as tightly as his quivering claws allowed him to. All that was left to do now was feed the Arcanine this stun seed just before they reached the dungeon's entrance. 'Have this last one,' he'd tell her; his ride wouldn't understand a word, but it would hardly matter. Never would she expect this seed to be different.
He felt a pit in his stomach at what he was going to do to her—but this Arcanine looked young and strong, and once the paralysis wore off she would certainly find her way back to her people.
Him, on the other hand? This way his only chance.
However, no amount of rationalisation was enough to dispel the guilt eating away at his innards when he looked down at her mane.
I'm sorry… he mouthed with his lips. A vague tremor shook his chest; suddenly the madness of what he was about to do sunk in. He was abandoning Daedalus, Brynn, all the Teutonii that had welcomed and fed him. They didn't deserve this—none of them did.
I'm so sorry… He squeezed his eyes together, and sniffled.
Pressure built behind his eyes, and every breath he took seemed to suck more air out of him than it introduced. Yet he needed to be strong. Just this once, he needed to become the fearless Charmeleon that all these pokémon hailed him to be.
Flame opened his damp eyes again. They were on the rocky plateau, now; the dungeon's entrance lay somewhere on the other side of the chasm that cut across the plateau, connected only by a short, wooden bridge.
Flame's heart jumped, and a cold breeze flapped the loose ends of his cape. The time was nearly upon him. All he had to do was offer the seed to her. It was simple enough. He'd come this far, after all.
His time was running out yet he still sat there, clutching his stun seed in his shaky claws, watching helplessly as the convoy crept quietly towards the bridge. If he stayed, in two days he would be in his new home with Daedalus and Brynn, piecing together a new life. His house had been prepared. Could he still run away after all they'd done for him?
Daedalus paused just before the bridge and looked back. Flame averted his gaze. His distress awoke a nausea in his body, and he stared down with his wide eyes.
I can't. He sniffled. I can't do it. I can't—
"Halt."
In one word, Flame's train of thought screeched to a halt. The convoy stopped; right there, right in the middle of the rocky plateau.
"Huh?" Blinking slowly, Flame raised his head to see. "Why did we just—"
From the front of the convoy, Daedalus did little more than float there with its hands clasped behind its back, examining their surroundings.
"Comrade Hydreigon was scheduled to be here by now."
Flame's expression gradually collapsed into a scowl. No, no—not now. Not when he was so close. Why did they have to stop for that stupid dragon now?
Cursing under his breath, he pulled back his hood and twisted his head to look about. With his eyes he trailed the greying slopes of the mystery dungeon towering above them; he gazed up to the cliff's rocky crest, then in the opposite direction to the mountains jutting up on the horizon. Nothing. Not a single trace of their Hydreigon.
"M-maybe he was compromised," tried Flame, his voice feeble. "And, and he's trying to lead them away from us."
"Perhaps so," Daedalus said. "This is … unexpected. I do not remember hearing any form of signal from him."
With each second they stood there, Flame only grew more restless on his saddle. He again scanned their surroundings. There was nothing on the horizon. Nothing on the rocky plateau except for them. Why, then, were they waiting?
He stole glances of the other half of the plateau, across the chasm, where the air clearly began to ripple and shimmer anomalously. All they had to do was cross the bridge. The dungeon was right there!
"Look, let's just go." Flame gritted his teeth. "I'm sure he'll be fi—"
"Quiet."
With a sudden lump in his throat, Flame couldn't find his voice anymore.
The Arcanine beneath him tensed up, as if ready to pounce; he noticed everybody in the column do the same.
Daedalus wasn't looking around anymore. Instead it stared ahead, eye narrowed at the mystery dungeon. "Comrades, dismount. Form around me."
Flame's heart had already been throbbing; but now, now it was pounding. He slipped off his ride's saddle with his seed still in hand, and sprinted to Daedalus' side—nearly tripping on his oversized cape in the process. The other Teutonii quickly closed to form defensive circle of sorts, one with himself and Daedalus at its centre. Their eyes, nervous yet alert, swept over the surrounding area in silence.
Flame was quivering. Step by step, he inched closer to Daedalus and reached up to touch its cold arm.
"D-Daedalus, what's happening?" he asked carefully. "Why are we being … like this?"
Daedalus continued to slowly scan their surroundings. "I fear that our scout's disappearance is no mere coincidence," it replied. "And that, despite all of our precautions, we may have been discovered."
Overcome by a sense of dread, Flame gripped his seed with both hands. He listened to his surroundings: there were bird cries in the air, wind hissing in his ears, and the faint rush of water somewhere below. A brooding quiet weighed over the group.
"B-but how?" His eyes darted across the bridge. "And why are we standing here?! Let's go! The dungeon's right there!"
He tugged Daedalus' arm, yet the Dusknoir kept its sights on the top of the cliff above them.
"We cannot."
Flame pleaded with his eyes. "… Why?"
"There are multiple pokémon waiting above us."
There was barely time for Flame to process his panic as he looked up. Figures—dozens of figures dotted the length of the clifftop and looked down on them. He choked on his breath. They were little more than silhouettes against the morning sun behind them, but he could tell they were all enormous. They all stood there and waited and watched them until, finally, one chose to fully reveal itself.
A mass of metallic purple stepped to the edge of the cliff, taking a few moments to examine the terrain beneath. Then, it jumped. It landed on the other bank of the chasm with a heavy, metallic crash.
Flame let out a muffled cry of terror, as did a few of the Teutonii, as the Genesect rose to full height. It was obstructing the other end of the bridge—the only bridge to cross the great chasm that separated them. It stood there tall and proud, unencumbered by the huge cannon on its back, before it swept its eyes across the Teutonii.
"Good day to you," Sycorax said with a twinge of static. "As of this moment, you are surrounded. Do not attempt to flee."
Within heartbeats, another dozen pokémon crashed down to the Genesect's side and rushed into formation—Nidoking, Sceptile, Garchomp, others still he did not recognise, all raising a great cloud of dust. Flame felt his heart beating faster than he'd ever thought possible.
"Comrades, hold your ground!" Daedalus ordered. "Stay behind me, my child. It will be all right."
There was no need, for Flame was already cowering behind the Dusknoir's body. He darted his eyes helplessly between each of the hulking beasts by the Genesect's side; there must have been… six, eight of them? The Teutonii around him—from the Arcanine who'd carried him to Brynn to a Weavile to an Absol—did their best to remain stoic, but when he looked closely, that twinge of fear in their eyes was unmistakable.
Suddenly, a shrill cry erupted behind them. Flame whirled around just in time to witness a Flygon settle down in front of the access path; the Gallade and Kabutops on its back, too, hopped off and held up their respective blades at the rear of the ring. There was no way back, now. As if things couldn't get any worse, he caught sight of an Ariados above them crawling down the cliff's granite wall.
"Watch that Ariados," Daedalus ordered its troops. "Do not let it catch you off guard."
"No…" He backed away, slowly and inexorably. "No, no, no, no…" Flame did his best to regain control of his breath and his rising panic. Holding onto his bag for dear life, he took another step back. "Da—Daedalus? What do we do?"
Yet Daedalus said nothing. It merely floated stoic with an outstretched arm pointed at the general, an orb of darkness forming in its palm and absorbing the light around it.
"You."
"Indeed," Sycorax said calmly. "I'd heard reports that you were at the head of this little … insurgency, but seeing you here is quite different." Sycorax swept its gaze across the circle of Teutonii. "Tell me, traitor, was this your grand plan all along? Barbarians? Truly, we must have overestimated you."
Daedalus said nothing, continuing to train a Shadow Ball on the general across the bridge. The Dusknoir took a moment to scan their surroundings, as did Flame. The numbers weren't in their favour here. Eight in front, three behind, one above—and who was to say how many other Praetorians were hiding nearby?
"Your numbers mean nothing," Daedalus boomed. "If a battle if what you wish for, know that I will destroy you. You … you abomination!"
Neither the vitriol in those words nor the burgeoning Shadow Ball aimed at its head seemed to faze the general.
"Oh, I'm sure you could." Sycorax tilted its head in amusement. "Thankfully for me, I'm not here to fight you. It would appear you have one of my soldiers."
Flame cowered behind Daedalus; he could feel the Genesect's deathly red eyes scan them all individually, burning onto their skin. It took Flame a second to realise something: it was staring straight at him! The flash of delight in its eyes made his heart lodged into his throat.
Sycorax took a step forward; Daedalus' hand twitched, as did the burgeoning Shadow Ball.
"I will make an offer unworthy of you, traitor." Sycorax said. "Release him, and you will all be granted safe passage."
Daedalus' glare somehow became harsher. "If you truly believed I'd accept, then you are delusional."
Through it all Flame could only peek helplessly from behind Daedalus' tail. He wanted to say something—anything—but he felt small, far too small. He felt like a little Charmander, with everybody around him speaking and making threats on his behalf.
"Herr Flame? Lord Daedalus?" Brynn's sudden voice invaded Flame's head.
Biting his lip, Flame stole a glance behind him: the Braixen was near the back of the Teutonii circle, brandishing a wand at a growling Praetorian Flygon. Her head was turned towards him.
"What is it saying?" She pleaded with her eyes. "What do we do?"
"Not now," he muttered back. "Please."
Indeed, he turned back to find the Genesect staring straight at him from across the bridge.
"Private Flame!" Sycorax spoke. "There is no need for that disguise anymore. Come forward—we won't let them hurt you."
Flame answered nothing; a chill rattled his body. Before he could contemplate a reaction, though, he yelped as Daedalus reached back and squeezed his arm with enough force to block his blood flow.
The Dusknoir sent him a death glare. "You will stay where you are, Flame."
"I know!" He hissed through gritted teeth. "I wasn't going to—!"
Jaw clenched, he growled and struggled against Daedalus' grip, but the Dusknoir only squeezed tighter. His arm was starting to feel tingly.
"Unhand him."
Both of them froze at Sycorax's command, its static-laden voice echoing throughout the chasm below.
"I wish to see him, traitor," Sycorax continued, "You'd do well to listen."
With his arm still , Flame sent Daedalus a worried glance. The Dusknoir's glare slowly drifted downwards; the Shadow Ball in its outstretched palm wavered ever so slightly.
"My child," Daedalus said. "Please…"
The emotion behind those words wasn't enough to prevent Flame from yanking his captive arm free. He shuffled away, hissing as he nursed his blood-deprived arm. He could almost feel Daedalus' desperate stare burn a hole into the back of his cape. Shame flooded his chest—but no, he couldn't look back. Whatever the reason, Sycorax wanted him: it was only fair that he should confront the Genesect himself.
The moment he lifted his gaze, however, his courage faltered.
The Genesect's bright red eyes were staring directly at him from across the bridge—penetrating his defences.
"Oh, my. It really is you," Sycorax said with a chilling composure. "Fear not, soldier, it's nearly over. Are you hurt?"
For some moments Flame stood there petrified, his eyes darting between the towering Praetorians lined up on the other half of the plateau, most taller than their own general. He clutched the hems of his cape to his chest, yet the flimsy cloth didn't help him feel protected at all.
Flame squinted in the direction of Sycorax. "Wh-what exactly do you want from me?"
"We're here to bring you home, soldier," replied Sycorax promptly. "To Aesernia. Back to your comrades in arms."
A voice promptly touched his mind. "He's lying."
Flame balled his quivering fists. "I know!" he hissed without turning. "I'm not that stupid! Just let me—"
A sudden fire burnt hot in his throat. In a burst of courage that surprised even him, he stood his ground and glared at the Praetorian line, the loose ends of his cape fluttering behind him in the breeze.
With a few movements, he undid the knot at his neck, and the green cape fell and crumpled by his feet. There was no longer a point to the disguise.
Although the breeze now impacted his naked scales, Flame smiled as he glanced around, taking a moment to appreciate his newfound peripheral vision.
"Good," Sycorax spoke. "I see you are unharmed. Come forward, now. You're almost home."
For a brief, flashing moment, Flame was compelled to obey. But then he clenched his fists tighter, and bared his teeth to the Genesect. "No."
If Sycorax was surprised, it didn't show it. "I know you're scared, but you have to trust me, Flame."
Flame blinked. Do—do they both think I'm an idiot? He stared deadpanned. Is it something I'm doing?
"Those Scum can no longer hurt you," continued Sycorax, its voice low and slow. "Come forward, and I promise, everything will be fine."
Flame sneered. "Oh, drop that." He clenched both of his fists. "I'm not a kit."
"Why do you say that, private?" Sycorax asked, its voice pitched in some emulation of concern.
Flame continued to squint at the Genesect. "I know who you work for."
Sycorax remained silent for a moment. "I don't understand."
"Y-you're going to take me to them!" Flame said, louder this time. "Back to where I came from. That's your plan, isn't it? To have me killed…"
Sycorax slowly shook its head. "I assure you, Flame, if we'd wanted you dead, you would already be."
Flame's fists quivered. "Th-that doesn't matter. I'm not—"
"Who told you these lies?" Sycorax silenced him, staring him directly in the eye. "Was it the Scum?"
Breathing shakily through his nostrils, Flame tore his gaze away from those red glowing eyes. He couldn't find his voice for some reason.
Suddenly, he felt Daedalus' broad, cold hands enveloping his shoulders.
"Your lies are useless," Daedalus boomed. "He knows about the Presence. He knows who you truly serve."
The Genesect, however, had its eyes set on Flame. "Think, soldier," Sycorax called out. "That Dusknoir is responsible for the death of thousands. Making up stories to subvert your loyalty is not beyond him."
Against his willpower, Flame hesitated. The killings were true, but Daedalus couldn't have lied. …Could he? No, no, it couldn't be—every touch, every smile, the affection Daedalus harboured for him was too tangible. He'd felt it, damn it! The love…
Flame squeezed his eyes shut and breathed sharply, thoughts racing through his head. The more he tried to make sense of the Genesect's motivations, however, the less sense they made. The war against the Teutonii was still raging—just a week ago they'd nearly reached the gates of Aesernia. Why would the Imperial Army commit any number of troops, much less its general, to saving him? Him, an inept conscript! A deserter!
Though the pit in his stomach grew deeper, Flame lifted his eyes to Sycorax and clenched his fists tighter. You do think I'm an idiot, don't you?
With his chest puffed out, and his tail fire intensifying, he declared, "I'm not coming."
Sycorax remained quiet. Then, it tilted its head. "And what will I tell your friends?"
Flame blinked. He stared dumbly at the Genesect, his shoulders sagging a little. "… What?"
"Your teammates." Sycorax's glass red eyes lit brighter in delight. It stepped forward. "They're worried to death over you, Flame. Does that mean anything to you? Do they mean anything to you?"
With his train of thought derailed completely, Flame backed away and struggled to breathe. It couldn't be. "No…" He gritted his teeth. "No, you're lying. Y-you don't even know where they are!"
"Oh, but I do," Sycorax said, before turning to look behind it. "Isn't that right, princess Alice?"
Flame's heart stopped. He felt his cheek cold and pale, and as he followed Sycorax's gaze, he saw it: one of the Praetorians, a fierce-looking Nidoking, moved aside to reveal the much smaller shapes of a Dragonair and a Grovyle, both staring back at him with wide eyes.
"… Alice?"
His eyes locked with hers across the chasm. Even at this distance, he immediately knew them to be hers, delicate and sparkling in wonder. Gaius made a small, tentative wave with his good hand.
He took one shaky step and then the next, wind blowing over him. For some time both he and his teammates did nothing but stare, still coming to terms with each other's effective presence.
Then Flame snapped out of his stupor, and his heart nearly exploded.
"ALICE!" He reached his arm out."Gaius!"
He instinctively moved to dash forward before Daedalus grabbed his arm, killing any momentum and causing him to fall onto his knees.
Flame growled as he climbed to his feet. "L-let me go!" He squirmed in its grip. "I need to speak to them!"
"No, Flame." Daedalus sent him a icy glare. "You don't understand. The Presence has been searching for us all this time—ever since we came to this world. Do you realise what they'll do to you if you go?"
Even through his throbbing heartbeat, and the emotion still running through him, Flame knew that Daedalus was right. They were traitors, come to this world specifically to resist the Presence and their plans.
Little by little, Flame ended his resistance to Daedalus' grip, until he could do nothing but gaze helplessly at his teammates.
"I, I just want…" he muttered, forgetting to complete the sentence.
A heavy dread weighed his stomach. He watched helpless as Alice slowly slithered to Sycorax's side. She stopped for a moment to smile at him; a big, sad smile with tears of utter terror.
"P-please come back, Flame," she finally whispered.
Her voice was warm and pristine as always, yet its sound nonetheless made his tail flame shrink. There was something … strange about how she sounded. Unnatural. He'd known her for long enough to be certain.
"Alice!" Flame called out, still restrained by Daedalus. "Are you two all right? Wh-what does he want from me?"
Alice did not reply. He noticed her glancing at Sycorax, as if to verify that it wasn't looking. Even when Gaius leaned in her ear to whisper something, she still stood there, as if paralysed—staring at him with distant eyes.
Instead, it was Sycorax who seized the silence. "Well, soldier?" it asked in its crackling voice. "Are you just going to abandon your comrades like that? Your friends?"
For the first time, Flame didn't know what to answer with. He let his eyes drift down to his feet.
"It's clear that the Scum have brainwashed you," it continued. "Yet I can sense that a part of you is still there. You can still resist, Flame. You can still fight them."
"I…"
"Remember all the villages they've slaughtered. You saw one, didn't you?"
Despite Flame's resistance, the smoldering ruins of Sperantia Nova quickly flashed in the eye of his mind. In an instant he again saw the charred houses and the corpses—that blank, lifeless look in the survivors' eyes…
"Your masters have committed far worse crimes against my people," Daedalus spoke. "An entire continent incinerated… We will not grant you victory so easily, abomination. Your plans will fail."
"Fascinating," Sycorax spoke with synthesised wonder. "Because from where I stand, it would appear that your troops are the ones currently surrounded."
Flame wasn't quite listening. Breathing in gasps, he slowly turned to look between Dusknoir and Genesect—between the two sides, between the small Teutonii circle behind him and the Praetorians watching from the other side of the crevice, and from the cliffs above.
I can't do anything.
His knees felt weak.
I'm powerless.
He sent one last desperate plea towards his teammates. Gaius looked down in shame; Alice merely smiled; it was a sad, trembling smile, but for him, it meant everything.
It also reignited his desperation. Shaking, he clenched his fists and set his sudden glare to Sycorax. "L-let me—let me talk to them!"
"I can assure you, Flame, that they want nothing more. So please," Sycorax said, calmly and slowly. "For the sake of your teammates, and your brothers in arms, and everyone here … step forward."
Breathe—he had to breathe. Yet too quickly he transitioned from holding his breath to gasping maniacally. He still couldn't take his eyes off the bridge suspended between them.
If he went, his life would be over. It hardly mattered whether or not they planned to kill him at some point, even if that wasn't now. Perhaps they'd lock him away and send him back to the Presence's dimension, ready to become their slave again.
If he stayed…
Tears blurring his vision, he gazed to his teammates, and they gazed right back, pleading, begging him with their stares. Even so close, they felt so distant…
Then one of the Teutonii said something in her rough tongue. Flame blinked and turned his head to look; it was Brynn, eyeing Daedalus with determined eyes as she clutched her wand with both hands. Then, the Weavile next to Brynn said something in agreement, followed by the gruff Rhyhorn, and soon, one by one, all the Teutonii repeated it and looked to Daedalus for guidance.
Flame darted his eyes left and right, hopelessly confused. Judging from Daedalus' silence it must have been communicating with them telepathically. After a final nod, the Dusknoir turned to him with the most affectionate look in its eye.
It only made Flame's stomach sink deeper.
"What's happening?" he frowned.
"My child… I need you to listen to me."
A gust of frigid wind buffeted their bodies.
"This is not how I hoped this journey would end, but the way I see it… There's only one way out of this." Daedalus gazed solemnly across the chasm. "When I give you the signal, you must make a run for the mystery dungeon."
A vague choking sound escaped Flame's throat. "Wh-what?" he said, the fear in his voice echoing throughout the crevice.
"Quiet. There is a badge in your bag," Daedalus continued, red eye staring straight into his. "Use it to call for help once you've cleared the dungeon. We will cover your escape."
Flame tried not to show too much fear on his face, and, by his estimates, he'd failed miserably.
"B-but what about you?" he whispered shakily. "And, and the others! I can't just—"
Daedalus merely shook its head. "Your safety is infinitely more important. Do not worry about us."
Flame found it hard to breathe; tears welled in his eyes. "But, th-they're all around us—and above us, too! They'll slaughter you! I can't!"
"You can and you must." Daedalus stroked his cheek with one of its fingers. "They all knew what risks this mission entailed. What it might come to."
A sob wracked Flame's chest. Hyperventilating, he raised his trembling claws to grasp at its wrist. "They need you… Yo—our people, they need you to lead them…"
"Yes." Daedalus smiled somberly at him. "And if the Presence get to you, we all perish."
"Wh-what?" Flame sniffled. "What do you mea—"
"Enough chatter." Sycorax's cold, synthesised voice caused Flame to whirl around with a knot in his throat.
Once again, he faced the dozen or so soldiers lined up across the canyon, on either side of the Genesect.
"If your friends mean nothing to you," Sycorax began, "then I shall change the terms of the deal."
Slowly, steadily, the air around them began to shiver and vibrate. Flame blinked the tears out of his eyes and squinted, before his helplessness was immediately replaced by panic. His eyes went wide and his jaw went slack. He stared into the barrel of Sycorax's cannon just as it began to glow a dim, pulsing silver that grew increasingly brighter. All the Praetorians formed around it tensed visibly like starved beasts ready to pounce. The Teutonii tightened together, a frightened murmur in their strange tongue swimming through them as they closed their ranks.
"Do you see those barbarians behind you?" Sycorax said calmly. "I'm giving you thirty seconds to save them."
"But…" Flame took a step back. "But I can't…"
"Their lives are in your hands, Flame." Sycorax continued. "Are you going to come forward yourself? Or are you going to sacrifice them?"
Flame was suffocating. At least, that was how he felt: gasping for breath, unable to move, with tears blurring his vision. A foreboding dread washed into his chest.
"Are you ready, my child?" Daedalus asked in his head. "You must run."
Still struggling to breathe, Flame darted his eyes between the two leaders. "No, s-stop!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "Stop! There has to be another way!"
"Twenty seconds," said Sycorax.
The knot in Flame's throat only grew thicker. Fuelled by a pressing desperation, he felt a renewed rush of adrenaline.
"Don't do this, please!" he shouted at Sycorax again. "J-just let me talk to them and, and maybe…"
Yet it was no use. Nobody was listening—not the Teutonii behind him, not the Praetorians formed up across the chasm, not the ones looming on the clifftop. Those too large to pounce across the chasm opened their mouths or hands, readying beams of their own.
"No…" Flame whispered. "Stop…"
Nothing felt real. He didn't know what to focus on. Alice and Gaius were screaming something at him frantically, yet he couldn't hear them. The cannon's deafening whirrs and hums filled the air. Winds were stirring up around them. Feeling strangely numb, Flame raised a claw in front of his face as he stared into the barrel glowing white-hot. Was it aiming at him? It was aiming at him. No—behind him.
He turned back to gaze at Daedalus, who was charging up a Shadow Ball in its outstretched palm. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments.
"Whatever happens…" Daedalus shut its eye. "Remember how strong you are."
Flame couldn't find the strength to reply. He wanted to say something—anything—but once again, he felt too small.
"Ten seconds," said Sycorax.
He could barely hear Alice and Gaius' shouting over his own heartbeat, now.
In an effort to hold onto something, he squeezed his bag with his claws—there had to be something inside, something he could use, or, or a weapon! He felt the bag from outside yet there was little in it. He also wouldn't know which orb was which, and he wasn't sure how exactly seeds would help. Unless…
"Five."
The Ariados on the cliff wall above them tensed its legs, eyes trained on him.
"My child—you must go!"
A bell clanged upon Flame's heart. Amidst a maze of distress, he did the only thing he could think of: he pulled a blast seed out of his bag, raised it far above his head, and squeezed his claws around it.
"I SAID STOP!"
The sharp crack of his blast seed's shell echoed after his yell, bouncing off the crevice walls, the cliff, and, it seemed, the air itself. Bits of powder rained onto his snout.
As the echoes faded away, a heavy silence descended onto the valley.
For some time Flame stood there, panting heavily, his eyes squeezed shut and blast seed still raised above his head. He waited for death to come, either from his own seed or from the two armies around him colliding.
It didn't.
Slowly, heartbeat by heartbeat, Flame dared to crack open one eye, and gazed across the crevice. They were all staring at him, every single Praetorian—most of them too perplexed to keep their combat stance. Sycorax, on the other hand, looked completely impassive, and his teammates…
Flame felt his heart shrink as he met his teammate's terrified faces. Alice looked close to tears, while Gaius just stood there with his mouth agape, staring as if he'd gone completely insane.
"… Flame?" Alice's whisper trembled in the breeze.
Gaius was wide-eyed. "Bloody hell…"
Tearing up, Flame gazed back into their eyes and tried to send them a look of remorse.
"Flame," Daedalus boomed inside his head. "What on earth are you doing?"
Flame nearly let go of his seed in fright—it was as if someone had shouted inside his eardrums. After some hesitation, turned to face the Teutonii behind him. They all looked pale, as if they'd stopped breathing. Brynn was outright quivering on the spot. At the head of them all, Daedalus still had its hand raised limply, merely stared at him with the widest eye he'd ever seen.
As he stood there taking in his comrades' faces, sucking in laboured breaths, Flame didn't quite know what to say. He swept his eyes around. Even the thick whirring of Sycorax's cannon had died down to nothing, leaving utter silence in its wake.
"Herr Flame…" Brynn sniffled, her ears flattened.
"Stop…" he muttered between breaths, eyes squeezed shut. "I said… stop."
Slowly, Daedalus floated forward "Flame," Daedalus whispered. "I beg you, give that to me. You'll only hurt yourself."
Daedalus held out its hand.
Without quite thinking Flame scrambled backwards, raising his seed well in view and clenching his claws around it even tighter. The resulting crack froze Daedalus in its track, but also sent Flame's heart into a frenzy. In truth, he wasn't actually sure how much force the seed could withstand before it detonated. Gods, what if he was already at the limit?
"Why?" Daedalus asked. "Why did you not run, Flame? I thought I explicitly told you to run! Don't you see what's at stake here?"
In that moment, he wanted to cry. He loathed himself for doing this to Daedalus; for doing this to Brynn, to his people, to his teammates.
Tears trembling behind his eyelids, Flame lowered his gaze to the ground. "I can't," he whispered. "I can't let everyone die…"
Ignoring Daedalus' silent pleas, Flame turned back to face Sycorax. The Genesect was no longer charging up its cannon, nor doing anything else. It merely stood there and stared into his eyes with a certain glint of curiosity.
"Tell me, Private Flame," Sycorax tilted its head. "Is this truly how you want it to end?" It glanced to Alice and Gaius. "The final moments of your life—shattered in a thousand bloodied pieces, all while forcing your dearest friends to watch?"
Flame panted heavily. Holding his seed up higher for show, he pointed to his teammates with a claw. "I'm talking to them."
"I assure you, killing yourself will solve nothing," Sycorax spoke calmly and deliberately. "I'll ask again, soldier: is this truly how you want your life to end?"
Teeth gritted, Flame took a deliberate first step onto the bridge. "I said, I'm talking to them."
Sycorax remained silent, staring back into his soul. The sheer emptiness in those glass-coated eyes nearly scared Flame into looking away, but he clenched his jaw, refusing to break eye contact.
"Very well," Sycorax eventually conceded.
Flame blinked. He hadn't been expecting that answer.
The Genesect sent Gaius and Alice a single nod. "Go," it said with a slight crackle.
Flame watched breathless as his teammates emerged from the Praetorian line—they advanced slowly, hesitantly, darting their eyes between Flame and Sycorax. When it finally became clear that the general wasn't going to stop them, it turned into a race that Alice was winning. They quickly reached the centre of the bridge and stared expectantly at him, calling his name. The bridge could easily fit them all side by side.
"Flame." Daedalus' voice tolled in his skull. "If you care at all about the fate of your people, and of pokémonkind, you will not step forward."
Yet Alice and Gaius were still waiting, still calling his name. He couldn't keep them there. Swallowing his regret, he stepped forward.
"Do you hear me? You will NOT step forward!"
"Herr Flame, no!"
Before he could even react Flame felt his shoulder tugged by a small, soft paw; he whirled to meet Brynn's panicked expression.
"They're the enemy! You can't—"
Eyes wide, Flame pushed her away and held the seed up higher. "S-stay back!" he shouted, teeth gritted together.
All of the colour suddenly drained from the Braixen's face. She froze, her arm still raised limply towards him.
"No…" Brynn pleaded through teary eyes. "We need you…"
As he darted his eyes between her and the traumatised faces of the other Teutonii, Flame could feel his resolution waver.
"Flame…" said Daedalus. "I beg you. I can't lose you again…"
With a shaky breath, Flame shut his eyes. "Please," he whispered, "trust me. Just this once…"
The thought of that seemed almost amusing to him. Why would they trust him? He himself didn't know what he was doing.
Without waiting for an answer, he turned back and stepped fully onto the suspension bridge, pausing slightly as he felt it wobble ever so slightly under his weight.
"Unser kaiser!" came the desperate shouts from the dozen or so Teutonii behind him, one after the other.
As he walked, suspended hundred of metres above the river below, he kept moving his lips fervently, praying to forces he didn't know if he believed in. He made his way to the centre of the bridge quickly. However, it was not until he stood right in front of his teammates that he dared look them directly in the eye.
The pain came immediately: Alice was staring at him with wide, glistening, pleading eyes, whereas Gaius seemed to still be coming to terms with his effective presence, the yellow sclera of his eyes shot with streaks of red.
"Flame…" Alice's voice broke, and she slithered closer. "Don't do this to yourself. I-if you die, I can't…"
A smile blossomed on Flame's snout. He couldn't help it; in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to chuck away the seed, to embrace them both—warm their pain away. But it was neither the time nor place, and Flame kept his paw firmly raised above his head.
"I won't," he whispered warmly, smiling at them both. "Not if there's a way out."
Holding his stump in his good hand, Gaius frowned at him. "You already know what that is."
Flame bit his lip. He stared back at Gaius, uncertain. He darted his eyes around: first to Sycorax, then to the Praetorians behind it. He looked up to the shimmering wall of ripples rising a few dozen metres behind them.
"I… I can think of something," Flame said, before glancing up at the blast seed he was clutching. "Maybe with this, we can force Sycorax to let us through. We can all escape into the mystery dungeon—the three of us, my people. We'll lose them for sure!"
"No," Gaius answered dryly.
Flame blinked, staring back puzzled.
"Even if I wanted to go with your…" Gaius' lip twitched. "...people, do you really think they'd let you get so close without trying something?"
Flame slowly lowered his gaze to the floorboards. "I…"
Gaius' expression softened slightly. "Look, if you'd seen what's up there…" He glanced up to the clifftop where the Praetorians were perched, then shook his head. "Your people don't stand a chance. If Sycorax wanted to slaughter them, he already would have."
"So," muttered Flame, "the only reason he hasn't done that is…"
"He thinks you might still surrender voluntarily," Gaius nodded.
"You have to come with us, Flame." Alice said. "Please…"
After making sure his blast seed was still raised well in view, Flame dropped his head to think. They were right. The Teutonii were outnumbered and surrounded. It was the only option left to him. And yet…
"Guys…" he said softly, gazing carefully at both of them. "Be truthful. What do they want from me?"
Alice's lip quivered. Her eyes darted to the side, to Gaius, who merely squeezed his eyes together and nodded.
"Tell him," he said.
"Our Benefactors," Alice said in a whisper. "They're looking for you. I have no idea why, or, or what they're after, but… it's what Sycorax said."
Flame's heart stopped. "Th-the Benefa—" He nearly let his blast seed slip from his raised fist as his claws spasmed.
Alice's eyes widened. "Flame? What's wrong? Flame!"
So Daedalus was right. He'd been right about everything. It wasn't like Flame hadn't believed him in all those stories of their past, not at all—but to hear it from someone that wasn't a Teutonii… Suddenly, all those stories of their escape from the Presence's dimension were no longer just stories in his head. They were real, and he was staring at them right now.
Lowering his gaze, Flame shook his head. "I can't go," he said, quiet but certain.
"What?" Gaius hissed. "What the hell do you figure your choices are?"
Slowly, Flame looked up into his eyes. "They're going to kill me, Gaius…"
An understanding gradually settled into his teammates' eyes. They were full of questions, but neither voiced them. He could see the fight slowly leave Gaius' face.
"Damn it…" Gaius squeezed his eyes and remaining claws together, shaking slightly. "This is so… fucked, it's all so fucked…"
"We're trapped, aren't we?" Alice's voice was feeble, barely audible over a gust of wind.
"Th-that's not true," Flame mumbled, darting his eyes around. "I can still…"
Yet wherever he looked, no answer came to him. The Praetorians blocked their only possible escape. Behind them, the Teutonii offered only hopelessness. And below them, only void and rushing water.
"W-we have to get past them," Alice whispered, gazing at the Praetorian lines. "Reach the dungeon, somehow. It's… it's the only way."
As his gaze arched downwards, Flame had to recognise that she was right. It was the only way. It would be dangerous, but it wasn't like they were bursting with options. Maybe if he asked the Teutonii to attack at the right time…
Gaius shook his head. "It's not gonna work."
"But… he still has that blast seed." Alice insisted. "And, and I have one, too! If we all hold one up and threaten to kill ourselves, surely—"
"It's not gonna work, damn it!" Gaius hissed. "You really think they'll let 'im go so easily? They'll find a way to get it out of his claws!"
"Well what do you suggest we do, leafhead?" Alice spat back. "Turn back and let him die?"
"Of course not!" Gaius groaned, clawing at his face. "Bloody hell, just let me… let me…"
Yet Flame wasn't listening to them. He looked down at the wooden planks beneath their feet as they continued to argue, their voices lost in the rushing of the water far beneath them. It was the only way. The only way…
Then Alice turned to him with eyes full of tears. "Flame, please," she said. "Say something. I-it can't end like this. Not now…"
Still holding up his blast seed in his fist, Flame turned to meet them in the eye. "Guys…" he whispered. "Do you … trust me?"
Alice blinked, opened her mouth as if to speak, only to breathe, "Yes."
Gaius squinted his eyes questioningly, before relenting. "… Yeah."
His heart twinged with joy. In that moment Flame wanted to squeeze them both into an embrace—but not right now, not while they'd put their trust in him. Instead, he turned his attention to the Genesect watching them intently from the end of the bridge. Its eyes glowed brighter as they locked with his.
With one last breath, he found the strength to stop shaking.
"What will it be, Private?" Sycorax said calmly. "Have your friends brought you back to your senses?"
Flame snarled. "Fuck you."
Before it could react, Flame flung his blast seed at it with all his might. Then, he turned to breathe fire at the handrail rope before charging straight into it, and into the abyss below.
He didn't get to make out the screams from above, for he was at gravity's mercy: the wind quickly engulfed his body and rushed past him and blew loudly in his ears, and when he tried to scream he found no air to do so with. Eyes squeezed shut, he continued to flail and plummet wildly and trying to scream for his frie—
A confused gargle suddenly took over reality. Everything became cold. Numbing, intolerable cold. Pain… It took him several more seconds for his brain to finally tie together what was causing this horrible feeling: he was underwater.
Flame's eyes shot open. Everything was blurry but despite that he could make out billions of tiny bubbles rushing in the freezing water, which was hued strangely… white. A few moments later, he realised that the water current was dragging him along for the ride. A renewed rush of panic pushed Flame to squirm his arms and legs towards the surface, ignoring the stabbing pain from the freezing temperature, especially on his tail.
He re-emerged with a strenuous gasp; in the brief look he gave upwards he saw treetops and evergreens and cliff faces rushing past—but then the current sucked him downward, and he was suddenly in a struggle to keep his head above the surface. Panting heavily, Flame flailed his arms and legs with all his vigour; yet the cold was making it nearly impossible. It seeped everywhere, weighing him down, and it felt like someone was stabbing a lance through the pores of his tail flame.
Soon, he no longer possessed the energy to keep splashing. With no other option he elected to simply lay back on the water, floating on its surface. Flame wanted to cry. There were jagged sawblades digging into his scales, and he could barely move anymore. He felt horribly alone. Where were his teammates? Perhaps they'd left him there to die. It wasn't like he blamed them, but… he'd thought…
"Flame!"
That faint call broke through the shock-induced stupor. It was Alice. It was Alice! Alice! He craned his neck up to look upstream. There! He could just barely make her out amongst the bubbling foam, her serpentine form battling the strong currents to reach him. Gaius was just behind her, grabbing onto her by the tail orb and barely keeping his snout above water.
"FLAME!"
Flame stared back into her panicked eyes as her head poked out of the water, yet her voice still sounded faint—distant, as though spoken in a dream.
The pain pulsating from his tail was beginning to overwhelm him. He cried out and watched her close the distance between them, but he didn't have the energy to swim anymore. He stretched an arm out towards Alice, but she was too far away, everything felt so far away…
He awoke to the gentle murmur of water in his ear, and choking for air.
Visions swirled about Flame's head. A thick, nebulous haze surrounded his head, blocking out everything except the flowing water.
Then, little by little, his senses began to switch on. He felt himself, his scales, his arms, his paws, and his legs sprawled out against the cool earth. His scales, if such a thing was even possible, felt heavy and soaked with water. But above all, Flame felt cold: his muscles were completely frozen, too stiff to move, too numb to even be aching.
Disoriented and shivering, Flame opened his eyes but was greeted with an endless, bottomless blue expanse. He was forced to squeeze his eyes to stave off the nausea.
Where…? his mind probed, before he froze, having realised something far worse.
His tail flame was out.
While the overbearing cold and the general emptiness he felt offered strong clues, it was something he simply … knew, a primordial intuition engrained in the deepest recesses of his brain. There was no need to look.
Growing panicked, Flame tried and failed to breathe properly as his thoughts scrambled for answers. He could see treetops and leaves at the periphery of his vision. There was a river close by. Why was his tail flame out? Why was he so wet? Why—
Daedalus. His eyes shot open. The ambush. The water. Ali—
"A-Alice!" he wheezed. "Ga…—!"
In a rush of desperation, Flame summoned the strength to bring his trembling forearms back, before hissing sharply as he pushed his body into a sitting position. Water trickled down his scales in streams. The subsequent spell of dizziness nearly made him vomit, but he bit his tongue and held strong.
He looked around him frantically: they were both sprawled in the grass right next to him, just out of arm's reach—and both of them were stirring.
They groaned and mumbled something and coughed, before they blinked awake in quick succession; their eyes met his.
In his daze, Flame did not get to react before they crashed into him in a simultaneous embrace. Gaius' arms slammed around his chest and drew him closer, while Alice buried her head into his neck and half-wrapped around his leg, squeezing it for dear life. Once again, Flame felt too weak to react. Once the initial shock of their action wore off, he managed to place his claws on both their backs and held them there. They were just as soaked as him. Both of them squealed and sniffled and whispered tearful words in his ears, but all Flame could concentrate on was the dull heat emanating from their scales.
He sat wrapped in their shared embrace, shivering and breathing raggedly, as the realisation finally sank in.
His teammates were here. They were all together again.
And so, Flame cried. He tried to choke back a sob but failed miserably, and before long he felt cool tears streaming down his cheeks. He nuzzled his head in between theirs and held them tight.
"I m-missed you two so much!" he sobbed. "I m-missed you… S-so sorry… I, I…"
Sniffling, Gaius squeezed him tighter. "H-hush, you… you idiot…"
"Y-you did it!" Alice laughed amidst tears of her own. "You… you did…"
Soon they were all sat there sobbing and holding onto each other, all three of them wet to the bone, and—despite the cold—Flame couldn't have been happier.
At the very tip of his tail, a tiny spark jumped in the air.
End of Chapter XXIV