When Vallion finally did rise from the comforting aura of the fire, the inn took notice. He went up to reception and placed his glass down in front of the Torkoal with a shrill thud-the only sound in the sea of bated silence.
"How much for the drink and night?"
The Torkoal stammered. "Y-you kidding? I ain't about to charge you! I heard what happened to the last place that tried to swindle Shardurr! No way, no how! This place is all I got!"
Vallion would've insisted on any other day. Services deserve payment. Today, though, he wasn't in the mood. He raised his nose with a hum and turned to the exit, having had his fill of the flames for one morning. That was another perk of being a high-profile outlaw. Nobody thought to push him out of the way of the hearth. It was so much better than that crummy, crowded furnace.
Another curtain of fog had rolled over the town. The grey gloom that was supposed to represent daytime around here hadn't quite settled in, with most of the lanterns along the roads still burning from the previous night. The snowfall had subsided for the most part, excluding the twinkling showers that the wind swept off of the rooftops. Vallion squinted at the occasional dusting, his sleepless eyes already stinging enough as it was. That small annoyance was an afterthought in the storm that ran through his thoughts. Even the cold seemed distant in his mind now.
...This simply couldn't continue.
...
"What a bother. I hate mornings," Panne moaned, leisurely floating along the empty street half-laying along the length of her staff. "Couldn't this have waited a few extra hours? I barely even managed to drink my coffee."
Nibby ruffled his fur to brush the flakes away. "Master Alexander clearly told you that the best chance we had at catching these pokemon was early in the morning. Nocturnal pokemon like me are just putting off sleep, anyway. Aen't you supposed to be a professor?"
"Yeah, and? I still hate mornings. That doesn't change because I've forced myself into a life where I have to wake up early all the time."
Even at this hour, Post District remained the highlight of this depressing town. This was the first place that the morning crews plowed the snow from, either out of convenience in its central location or just out of favoritism in general. Whatever the case, it looked damn good. Better than Lively City in some cases. Or maybe it just seemed better when in comparison to the rest of Paradise.
They passed through the commercial parts right as the shops started to open up. The urban side of the district was still very much asleep, kept hemmed in by the unforgiving temperatures that followed the night and forced to huddle around the bases of smoking chimneys. Their destination was quite a bit further in than the horrible eyesore Alexander called a house.
Paradise wasn't quite the city it is today at the time many of these houses were built. In particular, they were looking for two pokemon that had been around since even before the Bittercold. A pair of retired knights that built their home on the edge of the original settlement.
"I still think we're better off using our time looking into Rusty Mountain," Panne went on to say.
"I told you that we're not getting involved with that anymore than we have to!" Nibby huffed. "It's bad enough that I'm as deep as I am. Those striped cowls could show up at my door any day now."
The Delphox cracked her knuckles. "As if they'd survive the attempt. I'm tired of fuckers who think they can run the town with fear. It's bad enough when nobles do it legally."
"You wouldn't be there if they came, Panne. Enough about the fate-forsaken bombs already. Let's just get this done."
The landscape started to become similarly vertical to the rest of the city, though it manifested through short hills and very gradual slopes. Along one of those slanted streets was the house they were looking for. It seemed fairly significant at a glance-nowhere near the levels of that ridiculous garden dome, but there was definitely an air of importance to the place. Not in appearance exactly, since it was more or less the same deal as the rest of the places around here. It was hard to put a finger on what exactly made it that way. Location? Scenery? Whatever.
Panne levitated up to the door and gave it a solid knock, crossing her arms to fend off a shiver from the chill. It was architecture made with shorter pokemon in mind, forcing her to lower her altitude to be even with the entrance. Ah, that must've been it. The house was the appropriate size for a middling species, but the windows gave away that it had three stories instead of two. Oh, who cares?
Seriously, they could be doing so much more than chase after Alexander's stupid obsession with this Weavile. What did it matter that they were a human? Humans bleed like any other pokemon. Why not just take her down and start actually getting this place cleaned up?
No lock needed undoing. An Emolga answered, looking a little perplexed.
"Ah. Hello? Was Dunsparce...expecting anyone?"
...
The bell-tower that Freak resided in was all but abandoned by the community that had built it. Its bricks, seemingly once red and prideful, had faded into browns that were further dulled by the mournful light. The windows and doors were all boarded up on the ground level. The only apparent way in was through the broken windows on the tower that lead up to the rusted, useless bell itself. Nobody would spare a second glance at a place so decrepit, much less search it for crime-lords.
She was here, too. There were very few other places she could be. This had to be the one.
Vallion scouted the sides of the old building for a convenient opening before he had to surrender that hope and look for a way up. He found a reasonable ridge along the side, reached up to the slanted roof with his vines, and pulled himself along the wall's slight projections. It wasn't the most difficult thing to climb, but the last thing he needed was to get done in by a rusty nail.
When his head reached the top, there was a pair of talons at eye-level waiting for him.
"Inviting yourself in, are you?"
The Serperior huffed and pulled himself the rest of the way onto the roof. "Yes, Freak. I am. Is Chenza here?"
"Unfortunately. I'd love nothing more than a few simple hours of peace and quiet, but it seems that doesn't fit into the schedule of plotting to rule the city. She's been like this since snuffing out the traitor. I won't lie, it's starting to get on my nerves."
"Who would've guessed that the megalomaniac would snap when her followers weren't totally loyal?" Vallion started towards the tower and began to search for a way in.
The Swellow lifted off and landed again another few meters in front of him. "You defended Linoone. Tried to get him out of the line of fire, and yet he was guilty all along. Was it out of the goodness of your heart? Or is there something there you're trying to hide?"
"I've met his family, Freak. He had three kids. All death is unnecessary, but I knew he wouldn't make it out if Chenza got to him."
"So you did know," Freak muttered in a low tone, then turned to speak after him when he passed. "What about my siblings? Were their deaths unnecessary? You seemed perfectly fine in helping me snuff them out once and for all."
He eventually found a low enough window that he could snake his way through into the murk-so long as he avoided the glass shard on the corner. "I spared the three of your brothers that I fought. Does that answer your question?"
"Hmph. That you did. I still don't know if I should hold a grudge against you for it."
The insides of the bell-tower weren't much prettier than its outward appearance. Rotten wood and loose debris were the immediate impressions, and it only got more depressing the longer he stared. It smelled like mold was its primary occupant instead of the Swellow behind him. Vallion crawled the rest of the way in and started to scan the sagging floor for places he might fall through.
Freak landed on the windowsill behind him. "Head along the right wall. The stairs are on the other side. She's on the bottom floor, slowly going mad. I doubt she'll be happy to see you."
"People rarely are around here." He cautiously started on the perimeter of the room, but stopped halfway across and looked back. "Why not stop me? You don't know my reasons for coming to meet her. What if I have loftier goals?"
"You wouldn't win against her," the Swellow said with a shake of his head. "Not that I can see that fight happening. You both want the same thing, don't you? If death is unnecessary, then Master Alexander's head was never something you were going to take in the first place."
Vallion continued on around the edge of the room and came to the crumbling remains of a stairway down into the dark underbelly of the building.
Freak spoke up one last time, just out of view. "Try not to get your throat slit, Bright-eyes. You're not the kind of pokemon that belongs in a gang like this. It'd be a waste."
...
There was a confused grunt that came from deeper inside the house, but nothing more. Nibby straightened his back and flattened out the anxiety that had naturally appeared on his features.
"You weren't expecting us, no. We're on an investigation ordered by Master Alexander, looking into some very particular bits of history. May we come in?"
All the drowsiness disappeared from the Emolga's face. "Oh! Right. Come on in. Sorry if it's a bit cramped, Delphox."
"Oh, I've been in smaller spaces in my time. As long as I can twist this thing around, I'm golden."
It was a quaint little place. If she were to stand straight up her ears would brush against the ceiling, but there was plenty of horizontal room to maneuver at least. Might have been a stretch to call it little, though, since this place was probably the equivilant of a mansion. There was even a passage in the ceiling where the Emolga could likely glide down from. The fireplace was roaring, preemptively warming the divans that were in front of it, and the smell of freshly-brewed something was in the air.
"Have a seat anywhere. Would you like something to drink? I could whip up some tea, or I already have some coffee coming up."
Nibby shook his head. Panne practically whipped hers around. "Oh sweet branches of the Tree of Life coffee sounds incredible right now, thank you."
Panne wasted no time in taking an entire cushion to herself, lounging back and fighting off the heavy feeling in her eyelids. She heard Nibby scoff into her ear and land on the glass table instead.
"We're not here for leisure, you know. You could try to act more professional."
"I am acting professional. This is my professional face. I am a trendsetter and what I think is professional shall now be the norm."
"You look like you're about to fall asleep."
She yawned and pulled herself upright. "I've decided that naps are professional."
Not more than a minute later, an old Dunsparce came sliding down the stairs. "Visitors? This early? Geez, I'm not even washed up or anything! What's all this about?"
"Investigators!" Emolga yelled from the other room.
"Oh? What for? Is this like one of those interview things? I'm not sure I'm ready for one of those. And I haven't had any coffee. And I just woke up, too! Ooh, I'm not prepared for something like that!"
"It's nothing like an interview," Nibby corrected him. "Sorry for the intrusion. It was Master Alexander's suggestion to come as early as we did."
The Dunsparce seemed to completely change gears. "Alex sent you? Well, he was right on the money then. You aren't intruding on anything but a cup or two. Emolga and I usually like to head out around town during the day."
Not a moment too soon before Panne passed the fuck out, the coffee came. Emolga carried a whole plate of the stuff over his head, setting it on the table without a drop spilled. It was pretty impressive, though these two were apparently once knights of the kingdom. That must be a pretty difficult title to achieve, right? Panne shrugged to herself and took a nice, long sip from what would be scalding hot coffee to anyone else.
After the two pokemon settled down on the divans opposite from them, Emolga cleared his throat and waited for his mug to cool with some conversation.
"Whatever you're looking into must be pretty important if Alex himself sent you to us. He could've just asked us personally, though. It's not like we live too far away."
The Dunsparce yawned into his next sentence. "Oh, I'm sure he's terribly busy with everything that's been going on. We're lucky to have all the time to ourselves that we do, remember? I'd sure hate to be in his position these days. I wonder how he even does it..?"
"By being suicidally stubborn, as always," Emolga answered, wincing at the sip they took.
Panne sighed a puff of steam. "We're here for kind of a weird question, honestly. It's about someone from quite a long time ago, you might not even remember it."
"Try me," Dunsparce said. "Memorization is one of the few things I'm talented at."
Nibby cleared his throat. "There was a point in Paradise's early development when the record-keepers were making a list of all new permanent arrivals to the settlement. Of course, that ended when the sheer number of pokemon coming in became too much to keep track of, and those who already lived in Post Town weren't counted. There was one pokemon in particular that we've been trying to look into. A single Weavile, long before any of the tribes were assimilated. Can you recall who they were?"
"Ah, yes! That Weavile! Of course!" The Dunsparce's expression flattened. "Doesn't ring a bell at all."
"Well it should, you doofus," Emolga put a finger to their chin and glared at the table. "I'm pretty sure we did a mission for them. You know, the one with the claw necklace? The single mother? I know it wasn't particularly exciting, but that was a fairly slow season."
"You know, I think I am starting to remember now that you mention it. I think?"
Panne leaned in close to Nibby's ear and started to whisper. "You hear that? Single mother. I highly doubt that a lunatic like Chenza's had any kids. Looks like we were looking in the wrong place after all."
"Might as well follow through, Panne. We're already here, and we've already done all the work. Let's close the folder the right way." The Noibat looked back. "Yeah, that's probably the one. What can you tell us about them?"
...
The lower levels of the bell-tower weren't nearly as offensive as the tower itself. It was dusty and forgotten, sure, but at least it wasn't completely falling apart. A few cracks in the boarded windows let in slivers of light that served as the only means by which to see. There was no furniture-no chairs or tables left to disintegrate in the passage of time. Just a big, dark, empty lobby.
Vallion felt a prick on the back of his neck. He ducked down just as a volley of ice javelins passed over his head. They made contact with the supporting pillar behind him, two of which stuck while the third clattered to the ground. He wasn't so certain that they were meant to miss after all.
"If it isn't the enigmatic Bright-eyes!" shouted Chenza from the shadows. She walked into one of the narrow slivers of light, revealing only the collar crest around her neck. "Took you long enough. I figured you'd show up at one point or another. Serperior always take their sweet-ass time, don't they? What a despicable species."
"Why even decide to skulk around in this decrepit place?"
She started to pace around. "I need some peace and quiet, dammit! Everything's fucked up and I need to think! Who knows how many more pokemon are selling their loyalty back to the kingdom? Who knows how much of my empire is already connected by red yarn in some dungeon beneath the capitol building?! Oh, I'm definitely going to need those bombs back."
Vallion blinked, his eyes still adjusting to the darkness. "Perhaps you are not as invulnerable as you think you are. I have known Alexander for a long time. You underestimated his cunning and were punished justly for it. I've learned from that mistake firsthand."
"What the fuck do you know?! You're only here to get revenge for your bitch of a mate, but where's that lust-that desire for vengeance?! You tried to protect a traitor that answered directly to Alexander for fuck's sake! For all the work I put you through, you crumpled at the last possible minute for no good reason!"
"He had a family."
"So does everyone!" Chenza's shouts echoed off the emptiness of the lobby. "Are you that stupid? Did you not think I was going to slaughter the king's family when I climbed that tower? Or anyone's family who gets in my way?! Get real, Bright-eyes! That's part of the business you're in! That was the deal! That treacherous runt was a single speck in the grand massacre that I am about to take part in to right the wrong that is my life!"
"That is not my business," the Serperior said. "Not anymore."
"You-..." She stopped in place. "You're a funny guy, you know? You think you even have a choice in all this. Need I remind you that the alternative is winding up like that fucking rat that I disposed of? There's no 'dropping out' of the game once you're in. You fucking hypocrite. After all you've done, and all the killings you took part in, this is how you act?"
He slowly drew his vines, just in case. "I had to dig Linoone's mangled corpse out of the trash they had dumped him in. I had to go back to his family afterwards. I told them what happened. His wife is without a husband, and those three children are without a father. Every conflict I took part in was between the rest of the underworld and us alone. Linoone was duplicitous at best, and perhaps he deserved what happened to him, but his family didn't."
Chenza's fists clenched to the point that ice crystals began to crawl up her tendons. She placed a claw to her crest and shook her head, chuckling softly. "That's weakness, plain and simple. For all your strength and skill, you're still so fucking weak. It's all so easy for you until something hits your emotions just right, and then all of a sudden you decide to regret all of it? Who FUCKING cares?! I probably did those kids a favor! As someone who grew up without a father, maybe it'll toughen them up so that they'll survive in the kind of Paradise I'm about to create."
"...What?" Vallion paused. "What are you talking about?"
"Do I really need to go over it again?"
"No, not your wildling Paradise! What the hell do you mean you grew up without a father? You're a human, aren't you? Humans can only be summoned to this world. Do you mean to say that you had an adoptive mother?"
"What does that have to do with any of this?!" the Weavile snapped back. "Of course not! My mother is my mother, flesh and blood!"
...
Emolga tapped his chin a little while longer. "Well, I can't tell you much about them in particular. We only met the one time, after all. I do specifically remember that they were pregnant, and that Dunsparce asked where the father was just out of curiosity. I believe she replied with a single 'dead' and that's why I remember it so well."
"Sad, but not surprising for the time," Dunsparce continued. "Most of the early settlers in Paradise were refugees from the Bittercold. Many of them lost their homes, families, and their old lives. Once Alexander and Reinhardt sorted that out, a lot of pokemon just wanted fresh starts. There were a lot of orphans around that time, too. Even Reinhardt was one."
"Anyways, about that mission," Emolga said after a more courageous sip of his cup. "That Weavile wanted us to reclaim some necklace from the tribe she'd come from. It was some string with her late father's claw attached to it, which seems pretty sentimental already, but I'm almost certain there's a part of Weavile culture that made it doubly so."
Dunsparce lit up. "Ooh, it's all starting to come back to me now! Right, right! It was a tribe that hung out around the northeastern foothills where Redland District is. We traveled up there and tried to get that necklace back, but they wouldn't give it to us. Said that that particular Weavile had been exiled from the tribe and they wanted nothing to do with her."
"Well did you get it in the end?" Panne tilted her head.
"Of course!" Emolga grinned. "We sneaked in and stole it back."
The Delphox chuckled. "Oh hell yeah. I love it when missions like that force me to get creative."
"We reclaimed it!" Dunsparce corrected him. "And gave it back to its rightful owner! It wasn't stealing. At least, it wasn't the bad kind of stealing."
"Did you ever find out why that Weavile was banished from her tribe?" Nibby asked.
That question left a bit more dead air than the last. After some moments of contemplation, Dunsparce seemed to recollect his thoughts. "I think that it had something to do with another Sneasel? An outsider from a different tribe?"
"I don't think they were from a different tribe," Emolga said with a shake of his head. "I mean, it's obviously a bit hazy now, but it sure sounds like a star-crossed lovers kind of story, doesn't it? Shame it ended the way it did."
Panne's ears perked up. "And this was around the conclusion of the Bittercold?"
"Just after," answered Dunsparce.
"How pregnant was that Weavile? Like, noticeably so? Like before-the-Bittercold-ended kind of so?"
Emolga thought for a moment, then nodded. "That sounds about right. It was something we noticed right away."
She rolled onto her back and stared off into space beyond the ceiling. "Hm. I guess that doesn't really say too much considering the times, but… Hm."
...
Vallion's eyes narrowed against the black, picking out Chenza's silhouette as she passed through the crack in a window. "That isn't possible. A human can't be conceived here. If you were born from biological pokemon parents, how could you ever be a human?"
"And again, I have to ask: What the fuck do you know? My father was hunted down and murdered before I was even born, but he was as human as that disgusting snake we both want to see buried six feet under! It's Alexander's fault that everything turned out the way it did! Don't you see it now? My father was supposed to be the one that took down Bittercold, not him! That throne rightfully belongs to me!"
The Serperior forgot to breath. He inched backwards, eyes scanning invisible lines in the dust. "You're...Your father was one of the humans summoned to fight against the Bittercold?"
"And only a single one survived," she snarled. "We both know who. Unfortunately for Alexander, my father had enough time in his short life to set his plan for revenge in motion: Me. How many years has he been sitting up in that fateless palace, feeling totally content in being the lone survivor, just laughing it up as his puppet king goes on to do his dirty work? I'm gonna savor the look on his face when it all comes crashing down. I'll commit that look to memory forever when I finally take my proper place in the world!"
"To think that a human at that time would…" Vallion trailed off. He turned his gaze back to Chenza, looking more mystified than confrontational. "You really do believe you're a human, don't you?"
She responded by pointing a claw at his throat, the ice prisms running down her talons glistening as they caught in a window's glint. "Are you about to suggest that I'm not?! I'll gladly end you right here to prove that point!"
He shook his head and backed up even further into the hall he came from. "Does it even work that way? What happens to the soul?"
"Of course it fucking works that way, you idiot! Does a child not equal the sum of their parents? Did I not inherit my father's fucking eyes? Me being a human has nothing to do with this! You're the one that's trying to start shit over some dead idiot's family! Don't try to sneak your way out of this!"
Vallion twisted his coils around, but always kept his eyes trained on the threat deeper in the room. "I'm not sneaking. I'm walking out calmly. Just get your standing army to do all the petty work-I'm done. Call me when you finally decide to put your penultimate plan into motion. You'll know where to find me."
"I ought to have you killed, snake! For all your usefulness you're no better than that fucking rat!"
But she didn't. Vallion climbed up the rickety set of stairs, making absolutely sure that he wasn't being followed, or that shards of ice weren't about to fly through the air and embed themselves into his back. A howling silence overtook the place almost immediately. He wasn't quite sure if it was the blood in his ears or not.
It didn't matter, anyway. He had gotten what he'd come for. Now justice could really begin.
...
"I do recall the tribe being very adamant about that Sneasel," Dunsparce went on to say. "Don't quote me on it, but I think they called him something along the lines of a 'bringer of misfortune'? They hated the guy, anyway. Probably kicked the Weavile out too when she tried to argue his case or follow him out."
"Sounds about right for the Bittercold event," commented Nibby.
Emolga rolled his wrists. "I remember the reward being pretty small, too. I mean, don't get me wrong here! People can only give what they can afford to give! That Weavile basically had nothing to her name. For a job as important as that, you can really tell who's doing worse off. After finishing that mission, that's the last we ever saw of that particular Weavile. I wonder if they ever got on their feet again?"
Panne sat up straight and pulled her staff into the air, but not before downing the rest of her coffee. "Well thank you two for your time. That was...I think it was exceptionally helpful? We'll have to see. Either way, with that information in mind, I definitely have someplace I need to be."
"Oh no problem," said Dunsparce. "I'm just glad I was able to be of use. It must've been a tough investigation if you were looking for something as specific as that. Good luck with the rest of it!"
On her way out, Nibby flitted to his perch at the front of her staff. "That end up being what Alexander was lookin' for?"
She shrugged and closed the door behind her with a flick of her mind. "Might be. Either way, if it gets Vallion out of that stupid fucking gang before all hell breaks loose, I'll gladly say whatever. I have a feeling this is right on the money, though. Call it experience in the field."