Ears, Book III: Paradise Apart

by Mimiga

The great northern city of Paradise is known as the largest gathering of pokemon in the world. Now that lofty title threatens to collapse the infrastructure its founders so carefully crafted. The coming winter holds the very thing Alexander has come to fear, and to preserve his city, he must confront the very mistake that changed his life, or there may not be a Paradise by spring.

14. Like Mother, Like Son

A harsh winter's dusk slowly descended upon Paradise. More like a shroud than a blanket, but no fabric or absence of light could mask the uncertainty that gripped the stone channels that ran through Redland District. Trapped behind the dead silence was a steady pulse of panic. From one heart to another, spreading like a spiritual infection among its residents. The children tucked away in their beds felt it. Their honest parents in the other room felt it. The neighbors, the friends, the acquaintances.

A thread which had wound its way through every door was stretched to its limit. It would soon snap under the weight, and the repercussions would be all-encompassing.

Who did these good pokemon have to blame? What could they have done differently to save themselves from the snapping strings that they rested on? Should they have cut the thread earlier and excised the problem before it became one? Could they have? Or was this something out of their control, something meant to glance off the Aegis of Paradise instead of themselves? Was the kingdom to blame?

It was too late to wonder about the past. There were knights riding past on the cold stone, briefly illuminated by the light of lanterns through a crack in a young one's shutters. An armored Mudsdale flanked by a caped Sylveon and Chimecho. They were moving too fast, too urgently. The string had started to fray. Those bolstered footsteps were supposed to make them feel safe, but it only reminded them of the dangers to come.

This night would be remembered as the night a family was torn apart.

...

Vallion frowned at the backs of the pokemon that Brute had just sent into the night. Two Dewott brothers, a Wingull, and a Scyther all rushed out down the barren avenue towards the opposite end of town, hollering war cries like this was going to be the greatest battle of their lives. They would eventually meet with the others, who had gathered at the far edge of West District to distract the guard, or split off on their own to cause trouble. Their voices faded out into the abyssal sky.

"It's almost time," muttered Zoroark, pulling the hood of his cloak over his head. The bandolier over his shoulder was decorated in blast seed reserves and lockpicking tools. He kept his hand over a wrought iron dagger, sheathed and partially hidden beneath the covered part of his shoulder. "Hey Freak. You remember the potential hideaways I told you, right?"

A long breath exited Freak's nostrils. He picked at the cloth armor that covered his chest plumage as if he was unsatisfied with starting unless completely and utterly comfortable. "Of course I do. Three hideouts to the west. Two down the middle along Main. Two more in the east bordering Post District and Inflora District. The Matriarch has to be hiding in one. How did you intend to split us up?"

Zoroark went over his supplies twice while lost in thought. "Well you and I were s'posed to take the western houses. We're quickest and know the area the best, seeing as we grew up there. I'm not sure about the rest of you, and I don't really care."

"I'll take the middle," Chenza volunteered, flicking flecks of ice that had accumulated on her claws. That manic grin still hadn't left her face. "I'm not worried about getting arrested. And besides, I need to make a show for the rest of Shardurr. In time, they will all know who leads them."

"Don't get captured," grumbled Brute.

She snickered. "Watch your tongue, asshole. I'd rather die than give Alexander what he wants."

The dragon grunted in response, then growled when his eyes turned to who would be accompanying him on the eastern route. "Serperior."

"Yes?"

"Stay in line."

"Mhm. I will, if it suits me."

Brute didn't like that, but the guttural noise he made in Vallion's general direction was offset by a rumbling that carried over the distance. Incredibly faintly, nearly overpowered by even the inoffensive breeze that blew through-he could hear the shouting start up. Shardurr had begun the hunt, whether the city's defenses were in the way or not.

"That's our cue," Chenza pointed out, stretching her interlocked fingers. "If one of you finds her, send one to tell the rest of us and have the other make sure she doesn't go anywhere. We don't want Paradise getting to her first. It's only a matter of time before the Order stumbles their way into competency."

"And do not lay a claw on her!" Freak shouted, emphasizing with a stationary flap of his wings. "Not one fucking scratch until I get there. She's mine to end. Brute, if you fail to understand that, I will pluck out the eye that Chenza spared you myself."

For once, the dragon's ire was not directed at the Serperior. "Hm. I won't promise you shit. If she comes at me then that's all I care about."

Zoroark's fur shimmered in a mirage that blended in all too well with the shadows. In his place was the image of another Weavile, though this one was markedly different from Chenza. He had donned a male's ears, for one, and his red eyes remained the same in both forms while Chenza's still burned dark orange.

"One last thing, then we're off," the transformed Zoroark said in his natural voice. "Serperior. I know you ain't been here long. The Family's obviously about kinship. Even when they're down like this, the bound-by-blood schtick's still their main thing. Weak around the edges, but in the inner circles they're gonna fight back 'til the last pokemon standing. Don't get killed."

With that said, there was no more time to waste. From beneath this insignificant lamp post in the middle of the road, the three parties split off into action. Vallion worked the cold rigidity from his muscles as he took off down an eastern fork in the road, but was surprised at the burst of agility the Druddigon was able to muster in a moment's notice. The two of them practically sailed down the icy stone, solemn lanterns flashing above their heads in regular intervals.

The dragon half-skipped over the thin blanket of snow that had accumulated over the road, though that was a graceful way of putting it. He thrust forward with incredible beats of his wings, stomped down at the end of the arc, and lunged to repeat the motion with the other foot.

Vallion wasn't familiar with this path through town. The route Chenza took was the only one he had ever followed, and only during daylight. Even with a mental map of addresses and street names in mind, he mostly trusted in Brute's lead. A few passing vantages showed some distant parts of the city, dotted by tiny lights like organized rows of stars, unaware of the destruction that would be revealed at the crack of dawn tomorrow.

More resounding claps sounded over the rooftops. Could be thunder, or a series of powerful impacts, or some sort of sonic attack. It was intense, whatever it was. The main body of Shardurr's riot was only meant to hit a few of The Family's stashes-if there was anything left of them to begin with. There wouldn't be this much opposition if it wasn't from the guard itself. Damn, that can't be good.

The border street curved, following the top of a steep decline, Redland District to their left and the rest of Paradise on their right. They rode the line for several minutes before twisting inwards and following a secluded path even higher onto the hill. Brute made quick work of a gate's lock and advanced into a sunken portion of urban landscape not unlike the place Shardurr was based in within West District.

There were a few houses nestled together in the depression. The one they sought specifically was barely in view-sunken in behind two other buildings like someone had decided to build in the gap between the properties. It was a sneaky spot, he'll give The Family that. Too small to hide a gang leader in, though.

For whatever reason, Vallion briefly considered knocking on the door. You know, in case they had the wrong house after all. While in the process of realizing how he wasn't cut out for this, Brute marched up to the door and broke the damn thing into pieces with a single kick. He raised a brow and waited for the Serperior to follow.

The candles were out. Not a peep came from the house after their explosive entrance. It was clearly built for a smaller species, as Vallion could no longer keep his head at normal height as he slithered along, and Brute barely fit at all.

"Fucking shit," the Druddigon spat out. He sucked in a breath and blew a slow stream of flame from his nostrils, providing a steady light that flickered as he spoke. "Go. Turn the place over. Let's get this over with."

There wasn't much to sift through. The tiny abode was clearly lived in, likely by some quadruped with how mats had replaced the chairs, but the signs of life were only just that. They made a pass behind every piece of furniture and checked every corner. Brute ransacked the place partly on purpose during his search, and partly from his tail and wings doing more work than he intended. Finally, Vallion found a trapdoor beneath a blanketed mattress.

The passage led down a short ways into the earth, where a fetid smell guided him deeper into the crudely dug secret. A large dirt chamber opened up, presumably carved out of the hillside adjacent to this house. There were impressions in the ground that told of heavy crates that had once rested in this spot, but no longer. Empty. No spoils, no Mandibuzz.

...

Crash. Crumbling walls and flame. Shouts of war and shouts of agony. Of fear and command and defiance. A streetlamp was torn from its fixture, only for its post to be used like a projectile at a wall of guards by some psychic type in the chaos. The front line fled behind a wall of metal shields. The phalanx was fronted by a Bastiodon colored with the city's crest, accepting the fleeing guards and closing back up like blood filled a wound. A Carbink was too slow to flee, and was struck a flash of talons as Chenza burst from the mayhem and knocked the rock type to the ground, chips of gemstone flying off from the impact.

The Weavile stomped her foot down on the dazed Carbink and glanced up at the blockade. Fireballs sailed over her head and crashed somewhere behind the guards, and all at once Chenza felt the might of Shardurr at her back, like some indomitable tailwind guiding her sails. The sound and the feeling. She took in a lungful of the smell of blood and fear. Even better than last year now that she was at the front of it all. Intoxicating.

A handful of pokemon burst from the barricade to try and save their comrade from beneath Chenza's foot. She obliged by kicking the struggling Carbink into one of the iron shields and falling back. They were guarding the wrong street anyway.

"Shardurr! To me!" she shouted over the carnage. Hardly anyone but the most loyal of her followers responded at first. The only ones who could recall what they were doing here in the first place, saving the senseless vandalism and looting for later. She would have to work on that obedience in time.

The few pokemon she could recruit to her side followed her down a paved stairway beyond the riot itself. More would trickle through eventually, but those who lost their senses in the violence still served as an excellent distraction. It gave her time to emerge out onto some backstreet behind it all, just beyond the main body. The guards here were yet unprepared, scurrying about up and down the orange lights of the lanterns.

Easy prey. Chenza was quicker, having her fill of slit hamstrings and severed wings for her entourage to clean up before the rest of them scattered to sound the alarm. Her eyes were on a residence further down the block. One that followed the rounded curve of a hill and shrouded itself in a garden of old trees. Behind her, the destruction she left in her wake started to spill out into this part of town as well.

One could've easily missed the house of luxury hidden behind the overgrowth. Chenza crashed through the gate and let Shardurr spread out amongst the property while she surged straight ahead. Some brief sounds of a struggle carried over the distance, but the fights seemed to end just as quickly as they'd begun, and she found little resistance near the front door.

There was no one inside. It wasn't even lit up. Her slit eyes went wide against the darkness, tasting only dust and neglect in the air. Despite the desolate first impressions, she heard movement somewhere ahead, and gladly dragged her claws across the wooden walls in pursuit. With the sound of shattering glass, she came to some sort of greenhouse and strained her eyes against the gloom.

It seemed there were members of The Family here, but none of the flock itself. A Vileplume desperately tried to hide away in the brush as the Weavile passed. A fairy type seemed to be fighting a losing battle against Chenza's followers up ahead, the desperation in their voice giving away their fate. In the center of the greenhouse was a collection of empty nests on some gaudy structure. Nothing.

"Where's the energy? Where's the danger?!" Chenza's voice echoed off the glass dome. "Does The Family not even have an ounce of fight left?! Come on! Draw some blood in your death throes! Even the king's lackeys pack more of a punch than you!"

Her words didn't inspire any courage, it seemed. Pathetic. Perhaps she'd dealt a few too many blows in preparation for this night. Spitting in the direction of the central structure, Chenza sought out one of Shardurr's older members. The Turtonator was just about to take down that hiding Vileplume, but her appearance allowed the grass type to get away.

"Mommy ain't here," the Weavile snarled. "Apparently nobody's home that cares, either. Make sure we search the place for anything worth the trouble. After that, torch it."

The Turtonator huffed at their fleeing quarry, but gave a grunt of affirmation.

Chenza closed her talons and exhaled. A pressure sapped away the heat in her palm, until suddenly twin spikes of ice emerged and jut out from between her fingers. She raised her arm and swung, tossing the shards through one of the higher windows with a cascading crash.

"This is fucking boring! I'm going back to the fight. At least the guards know how to show me a good time."

...

Brute stretched his wings with a grumble just as soon as they exited. That left one more spot to check on their end. They returned to the cold, falling back into the rhythm of a sprint. Back into the glowing eyes of the lanterns that passed over their heads. The fighting further into town was getting noisier. That made it all the more disconcerting when the road forced them to head directly towards it.

They came to see their first glimpse of Shardurr's opposition as they came to a fork in the road. A regiment of pokemon donning green and blue rushed off not far from where they were headed. Vallion had to extend his vines just to pull the Druddigon around a building's corner and out of sight. The dragon snarled a puff of flames at his face, ripping his vines away in a clawed fist.

"What do you think you're doing?!"

"Keeping us hidden, what do you think?!" the Serperior shot back, coughing at the smoke. "We can't let them know we're out here. The knight captain put down a curfew that ended hours ago. They'll try to stop us." And you'll try to rip their throats out, he kept to himself.

"So?! If they don't get out of our way, we beat them out of our way! What's the fucking problem?!"

"Senseless fighting's only going to slow us down. We need to move quietly."

"Slow us down?! This isn't?!" Brute shoved Vallion out of the way and bumped him with a wayward swing of his tail as he stormed past. "You think you're hot shit because Chenza's acknowledged you. Don't. Nobody gets in my way and lives. You wouldn't be the first pokemon in the inner circle I've killed."

The mists that lingered below the clouds lit up on the horizon. White and yellow flashes tore through the black night, accompanied by the sounds of chaos. Not all the shouting was filled with fury. There was terror in the voices that tried to flee from the crashing sounds of broken windows and shattered bricks.

That was the first time Vallion felt his guilt overflow. At no point in this mission did it ever seem like what he was doing was physically hurting the innocent. Sure, there were questionable times, but these were extraordinary circumstances, and most of these pokemon were playing this dangerous game long before he arrived. Now people's homes were being destroyed. Pokemon who wanted nothing more than to defend their countrymen and kingdom were being attacked.

And Vallion was just going to let it happen.

The Serperior had unconsciously started to fall behind the Druddigon. They were both forced to stop when they stumbled upon a market square. Five more faces turned to look at them. Two knights bearing capes-an Escavalier and a Banette-and behind them were three pokemon who appeared to be regular nightwatch, as they all were nocturnal species. There wasn't a chance to get a good look at them, as the Escavalier quickly barked for them to continue on before they turned to the two Shardurr.

"Hey! Stop right there! What are you doing out of your homes?"

Scoffing, the Banette stretched their arms behind their head. "Does it matter? Look at 'em. They're probably criminals. We should take them in, just in case."

Vallion scrambled for his words. "We were just passing through, sir. You've got more important things to worry about."

The Escavalier shifted their lances forward. "On the Aegis' honor, this is as important as it gets! Our orders are to hold this perimeter, and we'll be doing just that! You're be accompanying us until this whole situation is under control and we're been dismissed ourselves. Perhaps you'll answer a few questions in the meantime?"

"Tch. Looks like your way doesn't work, Serperior." Brute cracked his knuckles, catching his breath with a cruel smile. "I was upset when Chenza wouldn't let me knock some heads in on the front lines like last year. This'll be a welcome snack."

Banette stepped to the side and seemed to melt into the shadows, their jeering disembodied. "Told you so."

The knight hummed and clashed his lances together. "What of it, Banette? Now our presence here was justified all along! The captain's planning is impeccable!"

Too late, then. Vallion knew better than to try and stop the Druddigon as he approached the Escavalier. The best the Serperior could do was stand his own ground, neck reared back above his head in a defensive posture as he eyed his immediate surroundings for the ghost.

"Well I would've liked to just pass through, at least," Vallion said. "I have no quarrel with you or the city."

A ghostly chuckling rang out all around him. "So? We're all just playing our parts. I couldn't care less who you're quarreling with if you're resisting arrest."

The Serperior focused on the dense silence that encompassed him in spite of the volatile first blows exchanged by his draconic partner in crime and the Escavalier. Billowing clouds of flame elongated the oblong shapes and shadows of the market square, forcing him to squint in concentration. The already endless chill in the air somehow grew sharper, stinging parts of him that have been numb for the last hour. A sense of dread crept up on him and blew on the back of his neck.

The lantern's light dimmed.

Vallion whipped around to see a shade burst out from beneath a stall, needle-like claws splayed from their fabric hand. They had to become tangible to land the hit. In a whirlwind of reflex and might, the Serperior swung a heavy vine down over the ghost's head. They weighed almost nothing, nearly bouncing as they were slapped to the ground. The Serperior swung his tail to sweep them away, but they had already safely sunk into the black.

A short distance away, the concept of finesse was nothing but a memory. Brute and the Escavalier clashed like two forces of nature. Speeding pillars of steel collided with inch-thick scales and claws, more often than not resulting in the destruction of the surrounding environment. Clouds of powdery snow rolled off of smashed carts. Fixtures of brickwork and benches were cracked and battered. Blow for blow, it was what Vallion would've come to expect out of a real fight instead of those pathetic squabbles he'd seen up until now.

A blur jumped from shadow to shadow towards the Druddigon's flank. Leaping forward like a coiled spring, Vallion lunged for the Banette before their claws could rake across the dragon's neck. He wasn't sure if it would've even penetrated his hide at all, but his vines shot forward to grab the ghost out of the air regardless, barely warranting a confused grunt from Brute before he had to redouble his focus on the Escavalier.

He swung the Banette into the trunk of a nearby tree. The resulting thud was disappointing compared to the force he put into it, but the ghost seemed dazed nevertheless. Vallion yanked backwards on the limp doll and bashed them on the corner of a bush's square fixture. Finally, with one last wind-up above his head and some intermediate struggling, he tossed them across the market and out of view.

Bursts of flame had melted arcs in the snow and revealed the beige masonry beneath. The Escavalier fell back, armor cracked and dented. Only their left lance remained to put space between them and the thousand-pound killing machine, who was merely scratched and scraped from the fight.

"Retreat seems the m-most valid option!" the knight struggled to say, still speaking in that gallant sort of way. "Banette! Let us fly this place and bring reinforcements!...Banette?"

No response. Vallion slithered over and cracked his neck in the direction that he had disposed of the possessed doll. "You'd want to start looking over there. I wasn't paying attention when I threw them."

The Druddigon stomped forward, the back of his throat still smouldering. "No! We finish this here. We're not leaving until there are no witnesses. I'm going to crush through your skull between my teeth and-"

"Brute!" Vallion shouted. "Control yourself. We've still got work to do, and we don't have all night to do it."

For once, the dragon seemed to actually acknowledge his words. Brute let the last of the smoke in his esophagus pour through his nostrils and turned to a northern exit. "Fine. Live to die another day, then. The result is the same. You'll see my jaws close around your face in the end."

The knights did not try to pursue them. Whether it was from that last threat or from the admission of defeat, Vallion didn't know, and he lost the mind to care. His calm was surface level at best. That air of panic that permeated the town had finally seeped past his cool demeanor, and now he was wrapped all up in it, too.

Heart slamming in his chest, he rocketed down that empty street with abandon. It was hard to separate himself from the sin. Should he have just taken Chenza down when he had the chance? Was all this just a preventable disaster? He didn't know. He just kept gliding down the road like he'd been told.

...

This was his neighborhood. Freak recognized the businesses from above. The corner he used to fly over. The cracked set of stairs that led up to the hillside park, never once repaired. Had he not been mid-flight, a shudder might have run down his back. It had been a long time since he had seen these parts of Paradise. He was not welcome here anymore. After tonight, he would be welcomed wherever he damn well pleased.

Zoroark kept pace just below, sailing through the fresh layer of snow on all-fours in his mock-Weavile form. His illusion was broken by the trails that his mane would leave in the snow, but it was merely an act to confuse, not to fool. The Weavile he assumed the identity of had been dead for several days already, slain in some raid that the Order had staged.

As they drew near one of the Swellow's old temporary residences, the two of them converged behind the stoop wall of a different building just around the corner. The Zoroark ducked low while Freak attempted to land and subsequently slid down to the bottom of some railing.

"Just like old times, huh?" Zoroark huffed, the mist of his breath not quite emerging from the exact location of the Weavile's mouth.

"Hardly," muttered Freak. "You would've been waiting out by the edge of the block by now. I'm the one that had to put in all the work sneaking out."

The dark type drew their iron dagger and shed his illusion, a grin replacing the visage of the dead pokemon. "Never gonna let me live with that, are you? Least you had a house to stay in. Besides, breaking in's gonna be much easier since you know the place, right?"

He pivoted around and glared at the front walkway of the manor. "If it's anything like the last hideout. Just try not to get too caught up. If she's here, we can't win by ourselves. Not yet."

"I know, I know! Just lead the way, greenie. You probably remember the back entrance better than I do."

Of course he did. There was a trail that went around a statue of the Hollow. It was as simple as slipping past that statue to the side of the house, where a hatch was hidden within the paneling of the outer wall. Made for a variety of avian species, Zoroark had to scale halfway up the side of the building to even reach it, but he could just squeeze through with enough effort. The passage was clean. It had to have been used recently.

Freak struggled not to let the flood of memories get the best of him. Though the halls he once knew had changed considerably, he immediately began to recall the layout of the house in a different light from when he was younger. Even then, through nostalgia-tinted goggles, this was not a happy place. Anywhere his siblings also lived couldn't possess that trait.

There was movement. A shuffling and a strained grunt. Zoroark and Freak scrambled out of the way, ducking into the next room and hiding around sets of antique furniture. The sound came closer and would eventually come right past them. Two pokemon. A Granbull and a Lombre.

"...going to be a problem! We shouldn't even be here!" the Lombre's conversation continued into this room. "Who knows what's happenin' out there?! It's gotta be bad, you know! There's no way we'd be standing around here if it wasn't bad!"

"Mm."

"You still not gonna say nothin'?! I'm tellin' you! We. Are. Goners! Just you-"

Zoroark and Freak didn't even need to signal one another. Just as the two pokemon drew close enough, they launched an ambush almost simultaneously. Freak launched up from behind an ottoman and started to swipe for the Lombre's eyes with his talons. Bursting out of a partial camouflage, Zoroark took his dagger and lunged for the Granbull, driving the blade nearly to the hilt and kicking away.

The Lombre cowered away, clutching at their face. Freak took the opportunity to lift himself towards the ceiling and swooped at the stunned Granbull. The fairy tried to swing at the Swellow instead, failing to stop Zoroark from pouncing on their back and biting down on the scruff of their neck. The Granbull fell forward onto their chest. The dagger made one last sickening noise, and the fairy went still shortly after.

"Wait! Wait wait wait!" the Lombre shouted, stumbling over themselves as blood seeped between the fingers that covered the right eye. "Just take it! Take anything! I don't care anymore! You gotta-!" Their remaining eye caught on the discolored Swellow in the air. All that panicked panting caught in their throat. "It's you!"

"And I don't know you at all," Freak said. "Speak. Where is she? Where is the Matriarch?"

"Y-you gotta-!"

"Oh stop fucking sobbing and speak up!" shouted the Zoroark, struggling to flip the dead fairy over to reclaim his dagger.

"I don't know!" they finally spat out. "Don't know where she is! Not in this fucking house, I can tell you that! Aerie's completely empty! Not a fateless feather left!"

Freak raised himself higher. "If she's not here, then why are you?"

"T' protect fuck-all! The Skarmory told me to and jus' left! Told a bunch of us, but most ran off already! Said this shit ain't worth it! I- I shoulda gone with 'em!"

"Which direction did Skarmory go?"

An uncertain silence followed. The Lombre stuttered to stall for time, only to choke when they heard the hollow noise of iron scraping against bone, followed by Zoroark's chuckling. "Ah- N- North! Probably went up north, I think! Or up the road, wherever the fuck that means! I don't know anything else!"

"Up the road?" Freak repeated to himself. "There shouldn't be any new aeries or hidden stashes in that direction. Unless you got your facts wrong, Zoroark?"

"Shut the hell up. I didn't spend years planning this night out just to miss a spot at the last second."

As another brief gasp of recollection came through him, Freak felt everything slide into place. The pieces were collected, just as they were always meant to be. "...Ah. Sorry. You're right. You wouldn't know about this aerie. Nobody but the flock itself would be aware of its existence. No one left in Paradise to know it but me."

The Lombre stared at the Swellow, unblinking. "What- what are you gonna do? What's gonna happen to us?"

Freak landed on the back of a chair and steadied his own breathing. "I once asked that same question when I was a child, Lombre. The Hollow gave me my answer from the depths of His glacier. Zoroark! I have what I need. Soon everything that the Matriarch possesses will be ours. Stay behind and make sure that it all stays where it is."

"Oh sure! Leave me behind! Go, hog all the fun for yourself for all I care!" The Zoroark licked their blade clean of blood. "I didn't want to get roughed up tonight, anyway. I'll just help myself to what's ours down in the basement while you're not looking."

With a shake of his head, Freak lifted off once more. It was finally time.

...

Their last stop was the most obvious of them all. Between rows of houses with darkened windows and closed shutters was one residence that was clearly more well off than the rest. A hill covered in pine needles overlooked the two-story home, leaving ample breathing room for the many extensions that were built on. The same process as last time ensued: they approached, Brute smashed the door in, and they entered.

This time, they weren't alone. The entryway led to a spacious den that was well-furnished and well-lit by a roaring fireplace. There, a Decidueye and a Galvantula whipped around out of fright. The Decidueye covered their wing defensively over a Rowlet. A terrible silence gripped the house.

"If you're lookin' for the stash, it's in the basement," the Galvantula struggled to say, backed into a corner as they fidgeted out their pedipalps. "We don't want to fight. I'm done fightin'. Almost died once already."

"We ain't here for the food. Yet." The Druddigon suppressed a snarl. "The Matriarch. Where is she?"

The insect stammered. "N-not here. She's been here before, but not tonight. You can check yourself. There's an aerie in the attic."

Brute spat and nodded his head towards the Serperior, then started towards the stairwell that was much too small for him. The whole house seemed to creak as the dragon pushed his way up into the second story and beyond. That pause never seemed to pass, especially not when Vallion was left with what seemed to be the only inhabitants of his hideout. The crackling fire somehow made it even worse.

"Why won't you leave us alone?" mumbled the Decidueye, still shielding what was assuredly her own child from the potential threat.

"After tonight, I can only hope that we will," Vallion admitted with a sigh. "How long have you been involved with The Family?"

"All our lives," answered the Galvantula.

"Then for your sake, I pray that we will all be able to move on from tonight."

More stomping upstairs. It would stop, something would crash, and then it would start again. Before long, Brute squeezed down the same passage with the same frustrated scowl on his face. The Galvantula was telling the truth. Nobody here but them.

"Where?" was all the Druddigon had to say.

"We don't know!" spat the Decidueye. "Nobody told us where the Matriarch is! All I know is that she's not here."

Brute gave an indignant huff and started towards the exit. "Then this was a waste of our time. Serperior, come. We will meet with the others."

It would've felt strange to directly apologize for the door, but Vallion let what was left of it swing back into place as they passed through. Their route was exhausted. It was time to head west and meet up at the furthest hideout in Chenza's path, but Vallion almost felt like he didn't have the strength. He was tired. The muted horror in his chest kept him going, but the cold did everything in its power to keep him down. There would be no sleep tonight. Not for him, not for anyone.

They didn't make it far before a frantic wing-beat appeared above their heads. A pang of adrenaline spiked through him, but it was only Freak. The Swellow descended onto a lantern and peered down at his two cohorts. There was an urgent look in his eyes.

"Found her."

The Druddigon sucked in a breath. "Where?"

"Not anywhere we would've checked. She's in a cabin past city limits, near the mountains. I know the road. It's time."

Vallion blinked at the ice that had crusted on his face. It all felt so distant from him. "Lead us."

...

There were no lamps out here. It was well beyond the beacons that kept the streets of Paradise from total darkness. In the countryside, there was no such luxury. Even the glow of the massive city behind them did little to reassure their position in the frigid plains. If not for the crude path beneath their feet, it would be all too easy to lose one's place. That wasn't even the worst of it. They had left Shardurr's uproar far, far behind them. It was utterly silent-a gasp waiting to be made.

This was what it will sound like when The Family meets their end.

Freak held a small lantern in his talons. That twinkling dot was what the rest of them were forced to follow. Chenza was worse for wear from leading the charge in the raid, battered and bruised as blood clot in her fur, but the insane smile on her face could've fooled anyone. Zoroark was nowhere to be seen, likely wrapped up in some business to save what he could from the dying gang. Brute was starting to lose steam, his bounding leaps getting shorter and more labored by the minute.

The large cabin itself was the only thing emitting any sort of light in the next mile. It seemed to almost invite them in, the distant shapes of illuminated windows beckoning for trouble to come closer. Of course the Matriarch would be expecting company.

A screech exploded across the empty landscape. Their lantern beacon jerked to a lower altitude, narrowly dodging a comet of flames that grazed by. The fireball pulled out of the dive as a pair of burning wings burst from the sides and caught the wind. There were more cries from within the darkness, but none of the others were as visible as the Talonflame. Freak was forced to fly closer to the road to avoid the prodding dives. As soon as he was herded lower, however, the attacks stopped.

Another two story building. A simple log cabin, out in the middle of nowhere, protected from sight of Paradise by the crests of the many rolling hills that separated it from the kingdom's great city. This place nearly felt isolated from the rest of the world in that way. It was its own pocket of reality, but the epicenter of so much. Vallion struggled to swallow the stone in his throat.

As Shardurr approached, several avian pokemon were caught in beams of light for a few split seconds before entering through a hole in the roof. The front doors of the cabin were wide open and waiting. Freak set the lantern down outside and waddled straight in without even looking back at his cohorts. Something told Vallion that the Swellow would've come here completely alone if it had come to that.

There weren't stairs. The second and first floors were separated by wide trapdoors in the ceiling. Parts of the roof were visible at some angles from beneath the holes, revealing the wide openings that the flying types had entered in through. There were still shingles to stop the snow from getting in, but it was otherwise exposed.

A short climb later, Vallion was overwhelmed as he entered a large chamber soaked in the same energy as Reinhardt's ornate throne room. The aerie had many elevated platforms along the sides in a circular pattern. The height of these platforms varied greatly, but a majority of them had nests built of shredded cloth and straw. Near a dozen piercing gazes immediately fell on their audience. Two Staraptor, a Talonflame, an Unfezant, three Braviary, two more Swellow, and a large Skarmory were among just a few that Vallion managed to pick out before his eyes were drawn to the highest platform.

A nest of blankets and pillows, more like a royal bed than an avian's temporary roost. A Mandibuzz glared down with all the malice that her children could muster through just a single brown eye. The skulls of a variety of species surrounded her, along with some long bones she'd picked clean of marrow. A particularly massive incisor bound the crest of feathers behind her otherwise bald head.

The Talonflame hissed through his beak. "Wish I could've broken your neck on that dive!"

"Ahh…" the Matriarch exhaled slowly, silencing the room. "Well. If it isn't my abomination of a son. How has it taken you so long to face me? I should have saved myself the effort and fed you to your siblings when your plumage started to come in."

Freak was a stone to her insults. "You missed your chance already, mother. I'm not going to miss mine. You will not live to see another day, this I am sure."

Mandibuzz tilted her head back and cackled to the sky. "Bold words for an invalid! Why is it that you only seem to have courage when there's a tailwind of crooks and villains at your back? I should have known that traitorous Zorua would've grown up without learning his lesson, but who else is that I see? The supposed leader of that band of suicidal outcasts you've sunken into? The rumored Weavile of Shardurr, conquerer of West District's underworld? The coward who hid in the shadows for years?"

"The one and only," laughed Chenza with a mock bow. Vallion shuddered to imagine himself at the other end of those murderous eyes. How many pokemon had she personally killed tonight already?

"Enough!" shouted Freak as his feathers bristled. "They're not here to kill you-I am! The reason they're here is to finish off what's left of your fate-forsaken blood! And if anyone else gets in the way of our fight, I'll kill them, too!"

"What a shame," the Mandibuzz cooed. "Here I was hoping that I'd be able to teach the young ones how to hunt from the skies using your limp corpse. I suppose it's only reasonable that I am the one to erase this cursed egg that I've laid. Your brothers should not have to suffer because of you, no matter how badly you want them to."

The Swellow inflated his chest feathers to their maximum and held his wings wide open. "They will suffer because they follow you, mother, and for nothing else! Now they will die for the same reason!"

One of the naturally-colored Swellow spoke out. "You've been saying that for years, brother. It's gotten so tiresome. I'm glad you've finally come to meet your death. This city would do much better with one less freak running around."

It was like a bomb had gone off. A huge pump of the Mandibuzz's wings pushed her into the air. Freak mirrored the motion almost perfectly in the same moment. A cacophony of screeches scraped the room as the two took off through the aerie's upper openings into the black sky. Seconds later, every pair of wings in the immediate vicinity had taken off in a storm of feathers. Freak's siblings were upon them.

Vallion had the advantage in that he could duck his vulnerable head and eyes behind his center of mass when the talons came. Picking targets out of the swarm was more difficult a task than actually defending himself, but the flying types were as persistent as they were swift.

The Serperior started with a glancing jab to the upper frame of a particularly bold Staraptor, then lunged to catch the disoriented bird in his teeth. A powerful wing slapped him across the side of his head and knocked stars into his vision before he could do anything. Another Swellow swooped past to swipe at his eyes, but they were too cautious and pulled out at the last second.

Plumes of fire erupted across the sidelines. Those who had set upon Brute had a much worse time. The lone Skarmory narrowly dodged out of the blast while one of their Braviary brothers took the full brunt, crashing into a nest with their feathers fully engulfed. The Talonflame saw a glorious opportunity to dive through the inferno and land a square hit in the dragon's gut. Another split second crashed by.

The Staraptor had broken free of Vallion's clutches and tried to take a chunk out of him in the meantime. The avian overstayed their welcome and received a sharp blow to the side of their skull instead. The Serperior curled his frame around their left wing and broke the joint with ease. Brittle, for all the muscle that was behind it.

That Swellow finally swallowed their fear and came back around for another try. Unfortunately, Vallion was no longer distracted, and his vines were much quicker than the speed at which someone's bravery could flee their heart. He snared them in his grasp and used them as a living shield against their twin's follow-up attack before discarding them into the wall as hard as he could.

This was the first time Vallion had caught a glance of Chenza in an actual fight. Something in his gut might have lurched at the three bleeding bodies that were already at her feet, had he not already come to expect it. Splatters of blood crawled up her claws and covered her thin fur in gruesome patches. She ducked to the floor in a flash to avoid a sweeping pair of talons, then in the same motion sprung back up to slice the Braviary's foot clean off. The face she made was of utter glee and triumph, like a conqueror.

If there was somehow a human in there, Vallion feared for his own sanity.

The scent of blood and black smoke filled the room. The Serperior had taken enough blows for that metallic taste to be his own, but the latter smell was very real. A searing heat had tore through half the aerie as Druddigon's flames caught. The air was choking, forcing the battle downstairs out of sheer necessity. In a flash of rationality and mercy, Vallion gathered up three of the flying types he had incapacitated in his vines before he landed on the ground floor. The Staraptor still struggled and fought against him to little effect.

It wasn't long before the fire started to crawl down the sides of the cabin. Brute hadn't helped the matter, spreading the problem even further downstairs as he used his breath to keep the Skarmory trapped in a corner. An Unfezant tried to rush in to give their sibling some purchase from the dragon, but was cut out of the air by a jagged blur of red and blue. Chenza cleanly finished the job shortly after.

They took to the snow outside before the flames could engulf the exit. Though the sky had been stark black when they had originally entered, the yellow of the flames bounced off the snow and brought much of the countryside to light. More of the wood caught, casting a symphony of loud cracks into the silent expanse. With one final act of goodwill, the Serperior dragged the broken yet still-living bodies of his opponents into the open away from the carnage. There weren't enough brothers left to stop him. Even if there were, would they have? A shudder of adrenaline and pain shot through him.

The Skarmory was doomed. They tried to swipe at Chenza with their razor wings and allowed her the chance to jump onto their back instead. She picked between the chinks in the armor with cruel stabs and forced them to the earth. There, she jumped away, and offered Brute the chance to take out all his brutality on the Skarmory. Vallion dared not keep staring in that direction, and was extremely thankful that the raging fire was nearly deafening.

Instead, he followed the trail of the smoke upwards and saw two winged figures in the sky, dimly lit by the sheer luminosity of The Family's burning empire. Freak's feathers appeared iridescent even from all the way down here.

The mother and son made passes on one another. Swooping maneuvers and tight rolls, the both of them waited patiently for the other to misstep. The Matriarch was markedly slower than Freak, but even despite the Swellow's apparent agility, it appeared exceptionally difficult to land a clean hit on his parent. No matter the tempo of the dance, the Mandibuzz was more than prepared to match.

Had the Serperior not been an explosive mess of nerves and emotion, he would have found the battle mesmerizing. Instead, their every scream seemed to scrape the insides of his head and stab down into his core. Still, he couldn't look away. This was something ancient and powerful, like a fault line beneath the ground long overdue for its next calamitous earthquake. He couldn't pretend to understand the full gravity behind it, but he could feel it.

Then, finally, a decisive hit. Freak feinted an attack on the Mandibuzz's right wing to get her to twist around, then came down with a conclusive peck at the back of her head. The results were immediate. After a pained flailing, the Matriarch lost control and started to plummet towards the earth. Down, down, down...And with a cushioned crack, her body met with the snow. She struggled to get back up for a few moments, but was slammed back down when Freak stooped down on her.

An ear-raking, primal shriek left the Swellow's maw. Wings fully extended, he gripped his mother's neck with a talon and started hammering down a frenzy of pecks. A cloud of ruined down feathers kicked up into the wind. The hollow sound of beak on skull rang out, over and over and over. The Mandibuzz had probably perished long before Freak was done. When the murderous spell finally passed, a terrible trembling overtook the Swellow's whole body. The green and orange of his obtuse coloration were buried beneath red.

Chenza made her way over. She crossed her arms, huffing and puffing and coughing on the horrid scent of the smoke. Her voice was uncharacteristically small.

"That do it?"

Unsurprisingly, Freak had a hard time answering between quivering in place and trying not to collapse. "It- I...It's done. The Family is no more."

"Hm!" The Weavile turned her gaze to what was now more of a raging inferno than it was a cabin. "Well isn't that something? Dreams really do come true, don't they? You could go to bed every night doubting that the future's gonna bend in your direction, until finally you're standing…"

She trailed off. Or maybe she didn't, and the roar of the flames simply engulfed her words just as much as it did the kindling. Brute had a much simpler approach to the matter. He stomped up to where the Weavile stood, brushed some of the down that had stuck to the freezing blood on his hide, and grunted.

"The future is ours."

Chenza snickered and sighed in the same breath. "Mine, Brute. The future is mine. But you'll have your cut soon enough."