A/N: Introducing character bios.

I have a lot of characters, so, at this point, I decided it would be neat to have little blurbs at the start of each chapter showing some of them off. Might as well give whoever's reading a nice look inside. I might also give some worldbuilding tidbits here and there.

Character: Abigail Frisk

Species: Furret

Age: 17

Nickname: Lodestar

Year of character creation: 2014

Story: After she lost her father in prison to illness and her mother went missing, Abigail spent a year in Valor working at a small cafe. She met Bellossom Helen in a supermarket soon after her arrival, got along, and rented out her upstairs room. Her new lifestyle didn't include as many battles as she wanted, so she went out on vigilante sprees until that night the Royal Parade was announced...


Steam rose up from the water pit in Furret Abigail's room. Within minutes, she fell asleep for a nap.

Floatzel Zen and Zoroark Aaron sat on cushions towards the front of her room, watching TV. Zen glanced back.

Aaron gave a wistful sigh. "She looks so peaceful after taking down an illegal weapons trade."

"Yah," Zen said.

Zen's eyes wandered past her, her bed, to a shelf on the side of it. On top, a thick black book stared him in the face.

"Hey," said Zen. "Have we seen Abigail reading that before?"

Aaron turned around. "Yah," he said. "I think it's, like, a diary or something."

"I don't think so. I don't see her take it out often enough.."

"Every time I ask her, she plays dumb, so, all you, man."

"I'll just take a peek. If I see anything remotely like a diary, I'm putting it back."

"Well… Okay," said Aaron. "Just a peek."

Zen stood up and tip-toed to the shelf. He lifted the book and opened up to a random page somewhere in the center.

"Oh hey," Zen said. "A novel." He glazed over the page. "I think romance?"

"Bring it here," Aaron said.

Zen walked back to Aaron. He handed him the book. Aaron opened up to a random page and read.

"Uh, dude," Aaron said. "This is a little more than a romance novel."

"What?"

Aaron passed Zen the open book. His eyes locked on the page.

He blacked out.


Furret Abigail's eyes shot open. A loud bang woke her up.

She looked out across her room. Her eyes landed on Floatzel Zen, flat on the floor on his stomach. Zoroark Aaron leaned over him.

"Uh, bro?" Aaron asked.

Abigail noticed something in his paw, a black book.

No.

Oh no.

"Where'd he get that book?" she asked, voice neutral.

Aaron's lips parted; his guilty tell.

"Aaron…" she hissed. "Did Zen read that book and faint?"

"Uhm…"

He couldn't say no. That meant yes.

She was too tired and lazy to get out of the pit. She wanted to soak her fur longer.

"Aaron," Abigail said. "Put that book back on the shelf or I'll-"

"Yes ma'am," he said.

Aaron clamored for the book and sped over to the shelf. He gently set it down, as if it'd explode if he hit it too hard. Abigail stared. She had just gotten to the good parts.

"So…" Aaron said. "Since what's done is done, you have some interesting reading material there…"

"Yah?" she said.

"Quirky."

"What? Reading a romance novel?"

Aaron glanced down at Zen. "Pretty strong 'romance'."

Her face burned. She folded her arms and wrapped her tail around herself. "Not really…"

"Well, I had you tagged as a perv when you nearly bit my face off. Oh, and made out with both of us."

"I'm not a pervert. Stop calling me that."

Aaron sighed. "Why do you have to be that dang attractive?"

Aaron picked up Zen and set him back on his cushion. Abigail lowered her mouth underneath the water.

"So," Aaron huffed as he sat back down, "what are you doing for the rest of the day?"

She poked her mouth over the water. "I dunno," she said.

"Same. So I bought us all tickets to Esmeralda's concert."

Abigail's heart lifted. Her memory struck it down.

Esmeralda just wanted to use her for popularity; even she could tell that much. She probably shouldn't give her that.

"I know what you're thinking," Aaron said. "Don't worry about it. Popularity is just a pointless game some people play. We're gonna have fun."

"Alright… When's the concert?" she asked.

"It's tonight at eight," he said.

"Okay. What should I wear?"

Aaron raised his curled claw and asked her "Really?" with his eyes. "You look hot in literally everything."

"I can't wear 'being hot' to a concert."

"Yes you can. That's what you wear everywhere."

She had gotten used to his constant praise, so much, in fact, she'd miss it if he stopped. She made sure not to complain about it.

Still, he could at least have some advice for something to wear…

"Well, what's your… favorite thing I wear…"

She muttered too quietly for Aaron to hear.

Floatzel Zen stirred awake. He glanced between Abigail and Aaron.

"What happened?" Zen asked.

"Abigail's a perv and you read something from her book," Aaron said.

"Not a perv," she sassed.

"I mean, you did make out with both of us."

"You're the ones who-"

"Fair, fair. Buuuuuut, still."

"Ah, relax," Zen said. "Abigail, you're not a perv…." Zen glanced back at the book. Uncertainty crossed his face. "Anyway… We wanted to ask you something."

"Already done," Aaron said.

Zen blinked. His face resettled.

"Is Gawain coming, too?" she asked.

"Yah. He went and burnt himself out on studying economics. One more test, and that guy's head will probably explode."

"He's really speeding through," said Zen. "But, it's past time he goofed off. It is going to be summer break soon."

"Well… Okay. But what should I wear?"

"You look hot in anything," Zen said.

Real original. Still nice, though.

"I feel like she wants a real answer," said Aaron.

Zen shrugged. "Not sure I have one. I legit think she's hot twenty-four seven."

"Yah, that's the problem."

That's it.

Abigail was determined to show them she could outdo herself… If that made sense. Probably. She could be more than just "hot." She could be stunning, mind boggling. She could knock them flat, without her fists.

"Okay, I have an idea," she said. "I'll need some time, though. Do you guys mind giving me some?"

"Anything for-"

Zen and Aaron glanced at each other. They kept stumbling onto each other's lines more lately.

"Thanks," she said. "Alright. Get outta' my room."

They smiled. Aaron stood up first, and Zen followed him out. She waited until they left to move.

Abigail had bought some higher end fur oils and brushes. She kept them in a drawer in the shelf under her book. She stepped out of the pit and wrapped a white, puffy towel around herself to keep the floor from getting wet. She walked over, pulled the drawer open, grabbed bottles, and then slid back in the tub.

From in the water, she added in a special, luxury style mixture of oils and soaked for a while, absentminded. When the water cooled, she got to work.

Furret Abigail stepped out of the water and dried off, but not completely. She took a brush to her fur.

It had softened to be as smooth as silk. She smiled.

For half an hour, in front of a mirror, Abigail brushed her fur.. She wanted to go for something regal, otherworldly. As her fur puffed up, she settled on combing the fur on her head into a short wave.

Next, she needed jewelry and clothes. Capes had become her style (according to the internet), but she wanted to mix it up.

She wanted something pink, and luckily, had it tucked away.

A pretty, pink jacket with strings connecting the two sides on the front. It was short, as it only reached somewhat below her arms, but did the job just fine. Next, jewelry.

Abigail had her ears pierced a while ago, while still living with Helen. She never actually bought earrings then, but small, expensive jewelry slipped into Aaron and Zen's gifts lately. She'd wear something from each of them.

From Aaron, she chose a small set of gold earrings, shaped like miniature diamond-stars. He noticed her ears were pierced in the carriage ride out to the vigilantes.

From Zen, she chose a gold chain necklace with a heart-shaped pendant. It reached down almost to her stomach.

Abigail noticed neither of them gave her a ring as a gift. Whenever they gave her anything remotely like this, they played it off very well, as if it didn't mean anything. She'd play off wearing it just as much since they wanted to be that way.

Despite having finished all her decisions, Abigail still had to work as her fur dried off to get it right, which burnt another half hour.

After all of it, she didn't feel satisfied. She stared in the mirror at her gold fur, red jacket, but, only the jewelry really impressed her. She could put on some makeup, if she wanted to. She didn't. The idea of it didn't sit right.

Whatever. She tried.

Come to think of it, this would be her first attempt at a concert since she got nervous and didn't go last time. She felt better about it, and couldn't place a paw on why. Abigail burnt the rest of her time reading and watching TV. After sunset passed, and the empty night sky settled in, she made final preparations in front of the mirror again.

Her fur had turned luxurious, soft and full. It had never quite looked as long or fluffy before. She reveled in it for a minute or two. Combined with the jewelry, she looked like a different person.

Aaron's double knock came on the door. Abigail rolled her paws on the fur on her head one last time as she walked over to the door. She pulled it open.

In the metal hallway, Zoroark Aaron stood with a thin blue jacket on, his weight on one leg, and a smile. His smile vanished as his jaw dropped.

"Ho-ly shit," he uttered. "Please marry me, for all that is good and holy."

"O-kaaaaaaay," she laughed and shook her head. "Stop being funny."

"I'm not even being a little sarcastic. I will drop on one knee and beg right now, I swear."

Abigail nodded and laughed it off. Aaron swung around into a walk away as she closed the door behind herself.

"So, Esmeralda went and advertised you were coming," said Aaron. "She's really taking initiative."

"Yah," she sighed, "that sounds about right."

Abigail took a second look at Aaron. His fur looked sharp and clean. Underneath, he seemed different.

More toned?

"Have you been working out?" she asked.

She regretted asking a second later, when she realized how that question could be taken. Aaron turned around and smirked.

"Why, yes," he said. "Last year, I spent a while studying to finish up before the parade. Now that I'm done, I have more time to."

"Ah," she said. "Okay."

Abigail kept walking. Aaron stood still and waited for her to catch up.

At least, she thought that was why.

Aaron leaned towards one direction. Abigail responded without thinking too hard and walked near the wall. He reached out his arm and leaned against the wall, blocking her path.

"Of course, that's the normie answer," Aaron said. "You aren't impressed by me being royalty for crap. No one looks at me as normally as you do, and that just makes me want to try even harder for you."

Abigail's cheeks burned. "Uh, well, I… What do you mean by that?"

Aaron tilted his head and nodded. "Basically means that you are the best girl in all of Valor."

"Flattering, but, you know that's kind of wrong to say."

"The best girl in all of Valor for me."

Lucky for her, he always let up on the pressure. He pushed off the wall and spun around again. Abigail followed his swinging tuft of indigo fur.

"Not feeling as stressed out this time?"

"No," she said. "I… I'm not really sure what happened last time. But, I feel fine."

"Good. Zen's outside with the carriage."

"Okay."

Aaron reached the elevator first. He pressed the call button and stood next to Abigail. She popped up and down on her feet. Every glance her way with those yellow eyes gave her a burst of energy she couldn't do anything else with.

"So," said Aaron, "I see you're wearing presents from both me and Zen."

"Yah…" she said.

"Mine's cooler, right?"

"I haven't picked a favorite."

"Gosh dang it, Abigail. I was just talking about the jewelry this time."

She shot him a glance. "Uh huh…"

"You look beautiful, by the way. Not just hot."

"What's the difference?"

"Hard to put into words, but you know what I mean."

The elevator doors opened.

Victini Anne stood inside, with her arms folded. Her blue eyes seemed dimmer than usual, and small strands of fur stuck out across her arms.

"Hey, Anne," Abigail said. "Uh, how are you?"

"In need of a spa day," Anne said. "You're going out to the concert?"

"Yah."

"Alright. Yellow Clan will be in the surrounding area. Just…" Anne rubbed down on her nose. "Don't do anything stupid if I'm not there."

"Get some R&R, Anne," said Aaron.

"Yah," she grunted.

Anne fluttered up in the air and flew past them down the hallway. Abigail followed Aaron past her into the elevator. The doors closed as he hit a button for the first floor.

Abigail's stomach dropped. She kept her eyes trained dead ahead to dodge Aaron's. Gravity pushed her face to the side. His beautiful yellow eyes locked her in place.

"For someone who doesn't want to kiss me, you really want to kiss me," Aaron said.

Dammit.

Abigail snatched his face down and smashed her lips on his face. His arms stuck out at his sides, but he relaxed and curled his claws around her back. He traced his claws through her fur. She shivered.

She stayed in warm bliss until the elevator stopped. She patted down her fur and turned away. She clamped her paws together down in front of her as the doors opened.

As Aaron walked out through the lobby, she hung underneath his warm shadow. She watched his indigo fur swing back and forth with every step.

Outside, Floatzel Zen leaned against the back of a carriage. Abigail put her mind on something else.


The carriage bobbed and weaved through busy streets. Furret Abigail played this cool game Aaron showed her called Candy Crush on her phone, and passed it off as important Nightlight work so they would give her a break. She sat opposite of them on a cushion. Dim light inside eased her nerves.

After half an hour, she started to get antsy. Floatzel Zen and Zoroark Aaron seemed to feel the same. Both of their eyes glazed over.

"Where is this concert?" Abigail asked.

"Further in on the south side of the city," Zen said.

"Ah. How close are we?"

"Five minutes, maybe. It's at an outdoor theatre. It's a pretty big one."

"Ah, cool."

The promise of less time let Abigail stick it out. After five minutes, she put her phone back into her red jacket's pockets and readied. The carriage stopped moments later.

Zen and Aaron stood up. Zen got to the door and opened it first. Cool air swept over them. Abigail followed them out, welcoming it.

She didn't expect anything like it.

It almost reminded her of an arena: a wide, round open space complete with pokemon watching from rooftops. A wide expanse of gray and white cobblestone stretched out underneath her feet. In the center of a maze of tables, cushions, and small booths with food, a stage sat. A small, circular wood stand elevated it enough to stick out. It sat dormant, for now.

Abigail saw all of it from the very edge, under a short building sign. Aaron and Zen walked out to the plaza as soon as they got out. She followed close behind. Their carriage drove off, to return when the concert was over.

"So, uh, where are we watching?" she asked.

"Wherever," said Aaron. "There's no boundaries here for people that are famous or not. Think of it like a party."

"Oh, huh. How do you stop people from swarming you, though?"

"They don't. People ask for signatures and pictures, that's all."

Up ahead, Quilava Gawain stood idle all by his lonesome, with a yellow jacket on. As he turned to them, away from a Swellow, she noticed lines under his ruby eyes, though they lit up the same.

"Hey," Gawain said, lifting his head.

The Swellow behind him froze up as they walked closer. Abigail smiled as she drew near. Swellow raised a wing in front of her beak. She seemed around their age. She held a small notepad on her wing, with Gawain's name on it in black ink.

"Hey, check it out," Aaron said. He raised his claw up to Swellow. "You want a complete collection?"

"I would-really-you see-wow thanks, uh…"

Swellow failed to form a sentence. Instead, she held out her notepad and pen. They shook so fast, Aaron struggled to take them for a brief second.

"Not many people are here yet," Gawain said. "I came early for fresh air. Why'd you guys?"

"Figured we'd warm our leading lady up to the idea of a big crowd," Aaron said. "And she'll get to see backstage."

"There's a backstage?" Abigail asked, looking around.

"Figure of speech."

Aaron handed the pad to Zen. He signed it next.

"T-thanks your majesties," Swellow said. "I'm, uh, a big fan…"

Aaron's head bobbed up and down with a chuckle. "A fan? None of us do much of anything yet except the Lodestar."

"W-well, I watched you all fight against the Rioters on that street before. It was really brave standing up to a Sacred Treasure like that."

Zen handed the notepad to Abigail. She signed it last in cursive.

Zen and Aaron's handwriting seemed messy, and Gawain's too stiff. They were horrible signatures. She had to give her's some more flair. She drew a quick, mini Compass Rose after her name.

"I think anyone should be willing to do that for friends," Gawain said. "But, I can't really say whether or not Aaron counts as brave, since…"

"Hey," Aaron interjected. "I could've run away just as much as you guys."

Abigail handed Swellow back her notepad. Her wing trembled so much, Abigail thought it'd fall until she clutched it close against her chest.

"Thanks…" Swellow squawked.

"No prob," Aaron said.

"Hey Abigail, "Gawain said, "could I show you some stands?"

"Ah, sure," she said.

That must've been the first time Gawain wanted to talk to her without the other two. His ruby eyes seemed closer than before, more focused.

"Some of the stands will probably sell out," Gawain said. "Follow me."

"Right." Abigail waved at the Swellow. "Uh, nice meeting you."

"Y-you too…"

Furret Abigail turned and walked away with Quilava Gawain. The air seemed to cool without the warm presence of Zen and Aaron.

Gawain didn't lead her to a stand. He walked towards a building on the side of the plaza, one without lights on. As he turned around, his face scrunched up, like he wanted to talk in private and didn't have a good way of asking.

"Uh, actually…" Gawain said. "I just... got you something."

Gawain reached in the pocket of his yellow jacket and pulled his paw back out. A glimmer of gold caught her eye.

Crap.

"I figured I'd give you something I crafted myself," Gawain said. "So, I've been learning lots of metalwork kind of stuff."

Gawain pulled out a long bracelet. It shimmered with hazel gems as it wound up in a huge bunch in his paw. If she wore it as a necklace, it'd droop down to the floor. She couldn't tell what it was.

"Oh, Gawain…" she said. "So, what is that?"

"It's a tail bracelet," he said. "I've never seen you wear or look at anything like it, so, I figured…"

"I've never heard of one before. May I try it on?"

"Of course. Made it for you."

Gawain handed the bunch of gold to her. She swirled her tail in front of her as she unwrapped it. She found the hooks and both sides, wrapped the bracelet around her tail, and connected it. Laid flat, it appeared more noticeable than she thought it would at first, even on the surface of her gold fur, though she put it on a ring of light brown fur instead.

"It matches your eyes," Gawain said. "Amber, I mean."

That must've been the gemstones. "Oh, my eyes are hazel, though," she said.

"There's a distinct difference between hazel and amber. I think most people would say yours are amber."

Now she got curious. "Maybe I'll ask around."

Gawain smiled. "Well, my vote is amber, but you're free to ask around. Let's head back."

"Alright, sure. Thanks."

Abigail grimaced as she followed Gawain back.

Buying jewelry meant one thing, but making it by hand for a specific someone involved a lot of… motivation. She couldn't read Gawain by his face, or even his body language at times, but this sent a message, and as luck would have it, she was wearing two more messages in the form of earrings and a necklace.

This would get to be a problem soon.

For the next hour, the crowd grew. Furret Abigail walked around with Quilava Gawain, Zoroark Aaron, and Floatzel Zen, greeting a good portion of them. Twenty minutes before the concert, they made a retreat to a rooftop, on top of a salon, much like the one Helen brought her to the night of the Royal Parade. Four cushions were waiting for them, so she guessed this was their plan all along.

Abigail sat down with Aaron and Zen on either side. Gawain's cushion sat dormant on Zen's other side. He opted to pace around behind them.

The plaza crowd grew into a miniature ocean, and a struggle for breathing room.

"So, what is the difference between amber and hazel?" Abigail asked.

"Simple," Aaron said. "Your eyes are hazel, and the bracelet is amber."

"Hazel's like, darker than amber, sort of-ish, I think," Zen said.

She shook her head. So far, the answers were split down the middle. The amber bracelet matched her, at least.

"Esmeralda must be running late," Aaron said. "We would've seen her fishing for pics with all of us if she had time before the concert."

"Yah, I checked," Zen said. "Traffic accident got in their way. They'll be on time, though."

"Could dip before she tries to take pictures with us. Whatcha guys think?"

"Sure," Abigail said.

"Feeling torn?" Zen asked.

"Maybe a little. I still really like her music. I'd listen to it training all the time. Besides, she didn't say anything that bad."

"Nah, she sucks."

Abigail flinched away from Zen's scowl when she saw it. He really hated her.

Then again, she could've guessed that from their conversation at the restaurant, or when they all seemed pissed the first time they met, or when they literally told her to make them a sandwich when they evolved…

Crap. They really hated her… She had gotten a lot more popular, though. They probably saw her as a leech.

"But I have to say, you're probably my cutest fan, so you can call me Es."

Her face warmed. Celebrity crushes really insisted that she throw logic out the window, which was bad. She did that too much lately.

"She might not be the best person," Abigail said, "but, uh, maybe we should tone it down from… You know…"

Zen glanced her way. He could probably sense some level of what she just thought. Shoot.

"Whatever you say," Aaron said. "So, did you find that bracelet at some sort of jeweler's stand?"

"I made it for her," Gawain said.

Zen and Aaron turned back. Abigail did, too.

"Figured it'd be more personal than just buying some random thing for her."

Abigail's heart thumped. Her ears stood up.

"Well, wasn't random," Aaron said, smiling. "I had a skilled artisan personally make her earrings. You know, someone with experience who knows what they're doing."

"The necklace was my mother's," Zen said, with a frown. "She wore it the night of my dad's Royal Parade, when they first met."

Aaron turned. "So just a hand-me-down?"

"Preferable to just trying to buy a heart, wouldn't you say?"

Abigail coiled her tail around herself.

"Sounds to me like you both didn't put effort in yourself," Gawain said.

"Nah," Aaron said. "I just don't give gifts with origins from my newest hobbies that I'm not even good at yet."

"You just give gifts with the power of our status and money, right?" Zen asked.

"Well, I'm not lucky enough to have the option to be a mama's boy. And I'd rather spend time than disappear and make a crapfest that could be replicated with a snap of my claws."

"She likes it," Gawain said. "I wouldn't insult her taste in jewelry."

"Uh, g-guys?" Abigail squeaked. "I like them all, really…"

"You don't always have to play nice," said Aaron. "You can admit you like mine best. It's just jewelry."

"Uhm… It doesn't feel like it…"

The lights underneath them dimmed. The crowd's voices got jittery and quieter. Abigail saw Lilligant Esmeralda pacing around on the stand, with Inceneroar Stacy and Pangoro Brittany on either side of her.

Saved by the bell.

"Heeeeeeello, southern Valoooooooor!" Esmeralda sang. Her voice boomed from a microphone. "Who's ready to make some nooooooooise?"

Zen and Aaron's face smoothed out, and Gawain sat down next to Zen.

Abigail really did like all of them. Picking a favorite would only cause even more problems, and she didn't even have one.

Esmeralda went right into her music. Abigail uncoiled her tail and started to mutter the lyrics to herself. She spoke them when the beat dropped, and then sung them to herself after the tension left the air. The crowd below vibed to it.

She balled her paws up and rubbed down her sides. Despite the heat of summer, it cooled down a lot at night. She wished she brought a blanket or something. Aaron's fur would be perfect right about now, but Zen and Gawain would kill him.

"Hey," she said, "what's life in Valor really like?"

"Sort of like this," Gawain said. "You're either in the crowd, or you're out of it."

"Ain't that the truth," Aaron huffed.

"I was just wondering…" she said. "But, how is it possible you guys didn't have that many friends back before the parade?"

"Oof."

"Damn, okay," Zen said.

"I didn't mean it like that!"

"Being royalty makes us feel seperated," Aaron said. "Like we're split off in our own worlds. No clue about Gawain though."

"I just default to keeping my distance," Gawain said. "I just haven't made the effort to be close to someone before. I'm still trying to...figure it out."

"I didn't mean to imply anything," Abigail said. "I was just sort of surprised. You're all really sweet. I mean, it's like you guys could get any girl you wanted…"

They really could, and they all had to pick her. Why would she even come close to the be all, end all? They had options. She couldn't be the only pretty girl in Valor.

"Already made my pick," Aaron said.

"But, I mean…" Abigail thought up a random person. "Esmeralda's right down there. She's pretty, right?"

"Abigail," Zen said. His head dipped a little lower and tilted. "Gross."

"I could tell you why all day long, but you won't believe me anyway," Aaron said smiling. "Should I make an illusion and have Esmeralda think a meteor is falling on her head?"

"Aaron, don't be mean," Abigail said.

"Just putting the option out there."

The conversation turned to what illusions Aaron could create. After a while, Abigail stopped listening. The list got so long, it seemed like anything was on the table. She focused on the concert.

The live experience made it better. In between songs, Esmeralda called up random pokemon up to the stage and talked to them. Hanging out with Aaron, Zen, and Gawain made it all worthwhile.

At the end of her seventh song, about half an hour in, Esmeralda stopped and looked around in the crowd. She took longer than usual. Her eyes turned up towards the rooftops.

Abigail registered it too late; Esmeralda's mystical red eyes locked on.

"Yoo-hooooooo!" Esmeralda waved up to them. "I see my cutest fan up there… Can she come down?"

"Meteor?" Aaron asked.

"Only go down if you want to," Zen said.

She wanted to. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Just have some fun," Aaron said. "No meteor. I got it."

Abigail stood up and nodded.

Without thinking, she hopped off the roof, bounced on her feet, and went right into a walk on the hard cobblestone. She startled an Azurill off of her tail. She swung back around, helped her up, whispered an apology, and continued.

She walked forward through a dense crowd, though most noticed moved out of her way. She made sure to at least smile back at them for being so polite. An Aggron with a hearty voice took notice, and raised his arms in a gesture for her to continue past. She muttered her thanks.

Up close, the stage almost hurt her eyes from how much light shone on it. Lilligant Esmeralda reached her arm down off the front of the stage, the one not holding a microphone. Abigail took it.

She struggled to pull her up. Abigail ended up hopping up on her own. Esmeralda didn't skip a beat.

"So," Esemeralda spoke into the mic. "Ladies and gentlemen, as most of you probably know from my Chattoter, the Lodestar's a fan of mine. Ain't that something?"

Esmeralda paced around the stage. Abigail stood stiff with her paws and teeth clenched together.

"When I first started singing, it was at a friend's birthday party in elementary school," Esmeralda said. "And it just kind of clicked from there. I did my first street concert on my thirteenth birthday, and it was rough. Only my family really showed up. I remember looking online hoping that what I found to be a spark was making a difference. And now that I know it was, I feel a little more complete than before.

"Valor's a lot safer with the Lodestar around, and I'm a lot happier, too! So let's give her a round of applause, right!?"

Applause broke out. Abigail waved one paw and clenched them back together. Lucky for her burning head and shallow breaths, it didn't last long. Esmeralda gave her a swift pat on the back. Her red eyes locked on again.

"For my cutest fan," she said.

Esmeralda leaned in and pecked her on the cheek. Abigail's tail lashed against the stage. Her lower lips trembled relentlessly.

Without another word, Esmeralda guided her over to the edge and helped her down. She zombie-walked as the crowd parted. Most comments pointed in her direction failed to register.

Once she reached the edge, she walked back inside the empty salon, paced around for a minute, and climbed back up the ladder to the roof. Zoroark Aaron, Floatzel Zen, and Quilava Gawain stared back at her. She didn't have words to offer.

Aaron smacked his lips. "So, meteor illusion. Fire and brimstone or eerie silence?"

"Let's just take five and enjoy the concert," Zen huffed. "Abigail, you alright?"

"What?" she asked.

"Kind of look like you got struck by lightning."

"Oh, yah, I'm fine. Just didn't expect…"

It felt so soft...

"Expect…?" Zen lowered his head.

Abigail blinked. "What?"

"Just drop it," Aaron said.

Abigail came back to reality.

As usual, she couldn't read Gawain's expression. Zen turned his hard, blue eyes back to the stage with his back hunched; ticked off.

Aaron didn't gaze down at the stage, or anywhere in her direction. He stared up at the sky with droopy eyes. With everything happening below, Abigail didn't realize there was a crescent moon out tonight. She used to be better about seeing things like that.

She couldn't imagine how split off they must've felt to not have anyone they knew from before with them now. She had a bit of an invisible wall herself. For whatever reason, she preferred it on this side.

She sat down in her spot again with them and glanced at their faces.

"Thanks for this, guys," she said.

They all smiled.


At the end of the concert, they tried to rush Abigail back in the carriage, but she insisted they stay. She wanted to talk to Esmeralda, face to face, the last thing they wanted. She understood why, but she wanted to decide right here whether or not she'd talk to her more often or lean away.

After a lot of the crowd cleared out, Lilligant Esmeralda made her way to them, alone. Furret Abigail stood facing the top of the ladder on the roof to greet her first. Quilava Gawain, Zoroark Aaron, and Floatzel Zen stayed behind her.

Once Esmeralda climbed up, she took a second to straighten herself out, then looked up and smiled.

"Hey," Abigail said. "Uhm, what was that onstage just now?"

"What do you mean?" she asked as her eyes fluttered.

"I'm not from the city. I don't… I don't understand how to play your games."

Esmeralda's face steadied out. "Hang out with me one day. Just the two of us."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Yah. Really. If you don't get the game, I'll teach you how to play. It's the least I could do."

She didn't expect this, at all. She glanced back.

Aaron shrugged and smiled. Gawain stared blankly (per usual), and Zen's lower lips folded over his top.

"Alright…" Abigail said.

"Okay!" Esmaralda's smile returned. "I'll text you, 'kay?"

"Okay."

As Esmeralda climbed back down, Abigail slowly turned around.

"Nice idea today, Zen," Aaron said, nodding right at his face.

Zen glared.


Furret Abigail walked through a familiar hallway, dark and dreary, made to look like stone, in contrast to others in the building. She followed behind a Dartrix as he guided her through the maze. Their footsteps echoed on hard steel.

"I don't quite see why you want to talk to him, miss Lodestar," Dartrix said. "Personally speaking, I think the guy is nuts."

"I think I should take matters into my own hands more often," she said. "Starting with a fair shot."

"I understand. You are the Overlord now, after all. Right here."

Dartix stopped in front of one of the cells. The sound of grinding steel hissed in Abigail's ears. Before she could ask, Dartrix pulled back a pitch-black curtain from in front of it. A Hypno looked up from a wheel…

A sharpening wheel with his foot on a metal petal. He sat down in front of it with a knife in his hand. As he stopped pushing on the petal, the spinning wheel slowed down.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm."

"Why is he sharpening a knife in his cell?" Abigail asked.

"It all started when I was given bread with frayed edges…"

"It didn't happen on my shift…" Dartrix said.

"How are you supposed to let the knife do the work in cooking when they're like this?" Hypno asked.

"Listen, I'll be over at my desk." Dartrix turned away. "Call if you need anything."

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm."

Abigail huffed and approached close to the bars (not in knife distance). He tilted his head in her direction.

"You have to know more than what you said earlier," Abigail said.

"I do," he said, "but I don't trust… Let's see… Literally anyone that you talk to these days. How did you track me the first time?"

"The first time?"

"When you came to my apartment door in the middle of the night. How did you find me?"

"We tracked you through that game. Street Brawler."

"It's Street Fighter, damn you… And that's impossible."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Listen here, farmgirl. It's impossible to track someone's real location through a video game. That's not how it works. Whoever told you they did it that way was lying."

"Well, why should I believe you? I mean, not to insinuate, but you are literally sharpening knives in your prison cell…"

"I didn't whip the knife behind my back though, did I?" Hypno sat up straighter. "Listen, Lodestar. You're unprecedented as an Overlord. The last Overlord, Kite August, had ties to the World Peace Organization. The Overlord before that was Lancelot Acuity, which people figured out to be the White Star's father. They were people who held power, not the kind to know the growing season for wheat."

"What are you trying to say…?"

"You're the Overlord now. If you really want to take matters into your own hands, you should look through all the data that's available to you because of your status. Don't take what people say to you at face value. Research it. Your only enemies aren't the ones who're sharpening knives five feet in front of you."

Abigail stared at him, silent.

"The point stands," he said.

"Well," she said, "you've all kept me so busy on the Nightlight side, I barely have time to think or move, just react to what you do next."

"I was selling at a convention. Don't tell me that's the most evil thing on your menu."

"I don't even know where to look."

Abigail glanced off to the side. She probably shouldn't have shared that with him.

"The Overlord's quarters, obviously."

"Quarters?" she asked.

"It's fallen off in recent times, but it used to be where Overlords lived and operated. It's possible Lancelot Acuity used that room, to some degree, in his early days as Overlord."

"Where are they?"

"Up top. Just keep going up, and it should be there. And when you find out what bullshittery got me in prison, you're more than welcome to share."

"I'll think about it?" she said.

"Good. Now leave me to my beautiful work."

Hypno pointed a finger up. He swished it to the side. The black curtain flung itself back in front of his prison cell. The grinding sound resumed.

"And who gave you a knife in a prison cell?" she asked.

The grinding stopped. The curtain moved ever-so-slightly to the side. Hypno peeked out of the opening. He raised a finger vertical to his mouth.

"Shhhhhhh," he hissed. "I'm listening to thesteel."

The curtain closed again, and the grinding resumed. She nodded and backed away. She had enough creepy to last a few weeks.

She'd heard of the Overlord's quarters in passing, but never about anything of note being inside. The highest room she knew about in the building was the Nightlight Hub. She'd look there.

Datrix eyed her as she walked past the front desk. She passed him a nod.

"Going so soon?" Dartrix asked.

"Can't even get past the starting line," she said. "You should…. Probably take that knife back from him."

"Didn't happen during my shift. I'll leave it to the guy who gave it to him."

She should probably have gone in there and disarmed him herself. The entire idea that someone gave him a knife and a sharpening wheel freaked her out.

Unless, of course, he employed some kind of psychic suggestion. She was trained to deal with that with ease. Any training against ailments might not be necessary for some of the guards here.

He could've escaped. Instead, the lunatic wanted to sharpen a knife?

She turned back around. "Change whoever's watching him," she said. "He could have used some sort of psychic ability."

Dartix's eyes widened. Clearly, he hadn't even thought of that. "I'll alert them right away."

"Good."

Abigail swung back towards the elevator doors. As she stood in front of them, waiting, she considered what just happened. He told her a lot more than when she was with Anne. She couldn't operate in black and white anymore. Her mom didn't let any of the Rioters hurt her. That meant she at least believed she was doing what was best for her. She had knowledge Abigail didn't. Maybe that Hypno shared some of it.

He made it clear just now they only would talk to her without anyone listening in, and not enough to speak outright. She had to pick up their hints.

After a few minutes, the elevator came and took her the highest it could go. It brought her to lonely metal hallways. All of the scientists and engineers would be asleep this late, most likely. She kept her steps soft. She continued up a rampway to the top most floor, then to the double doors of the Nightlight Hub. She gazed at the wings of Lugia, etched into their surface, for a moment, then opened it.

The Council floor made the Nightlight Hub mostly useless as of late. She could call meetings here with the other Nightlights, but felt split off from them in another world. They wouldn't be as useful against the Rioters, due to the skill difference.

The lights came on. As expected, the round room sat vacant.

She walked through it, to a thin hallway on the other side. Each of them had empty name plates.

At the end of that hallway, a small archway led to a gray stone ramp further up, in a spiral. A door stood in the archway before. They must've taken it out, for whatever reason.

Her feet hit a layer of dirt, and her fur a layer of cold air, enough for icicles, she thought. She'd have to take another bath after. She kept her trail stiff behind her, so it wouldn't brush up against the stone walls.

The building seemed to transition from normal to medieval. Paintings hung on the wall, though it was too dark for her to see details. She used her phone's flashlight, but it didn't help enough. She had it on power-saving mode after she forgot to plug it up, yet again. She kept it trained down so she wouldn't step on anything.

After two go-arounds, she hit a doorway. She expected a lock of some kind, but when she pushed, it creaked open.

"Hello?" she asked.

No response. She pointed her flashlight inside.

Black metal coated the floor. She rubbed her feet on its cold surface; no dirt. In fact, everything she shined her phone light on seemed spotless. Small, metal tables against the walls, which seemed to be in a wide, square shape, had nothing on them. She saw windows covered up with thick black tarps, and an overhead light. She grazed the front of the room for a light switch, found it, flicked it, but it gave no reaction. She sighed.

She looked for objects of interest, and found two. On one side of the room, a huge steel bulb, like the center of an unfurled flower, sat idle. On the other, a computer. She walked over to the computer first.

With a massive keyboard and monitor, it had to be designed for a species bigger than her. She shined her light and found the power button.

The monitor blinked to life. She rolled around on the touch screen. It seemed normal enough. She scrolled through its files and applications. It seemed to match her phone in some ways.

She stood there for ten minutes, then twenty, looking through all the clutter. She found some objects of interest, though she didn't linger on any single one of them. She continued long enough to get some common threads to ask Anne about, then finished up. She turned it off and spun around to investigate the weird black pod.

As luck would have it, she didn't see a control panel until she brought her phone light right up. She clicked a power button, but nothing happened. She doubted she could figure it out by herself, and decided to scan the surface of the pod instead.

She didn't see much, except an imprint of the number 'one' high on top of it. In the corner, she noticed a metal spike of some sort jutting out from the wall. She leaned over, stepped back, and took it all in.

Six black metal spikes connected to a metal box on the wall. They formed themselves like the underside of a spider. She grimaced at the thought and backed away from it. Though unsatisfied, she left the room.


Anne wasn't awake to ask questions, but the others probably were. She gravitated to Aaron's door first.

She hadn't seen his room in the Nightlight Association yet. As she knocked on the door, she double checked the room number and crossed her fingers.

"Coming," a voice groaned. It sounded like Aaron's but she couldn't be sure from behind the door.

Zoroark Aaron opened the door. He wore a blue pajama shirt and a brown blanket as a cape over his shoulders. He slapped both sides of his face with his hands, flat.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Making sure I'm not dreaming like the last time you came to my door at midnight," he said. "So, you come here often?"

His scent hit her nose like a salty, sweet tidal wave. She glanced around and scratched her arm.

"I, uh, wanted to ask some questions. Not really sure if you know the answers or not, but…"

"You can ask me anything, at anytime, in any way, in any-"

"Can I come in?"

"Uhhhh… Can I tidy up first?"

"Oh, of course."

"Coo."

Aaron shut the door.

Abigail bounced up and down on her feet. She let her eyes drift.

She flinched.

Inside, she heard an avalanche of noise. Glass breaking, a lighter being turned on (for whatever reason), and a mess of Aaron's mutters under his breath. He opened the door fully twenty seconds later.

"Okay," he said. "Come in."

Abigail smiled and kept her head low. The lights inside were set on dim.

His room looked a lot like her's. It had a bed in the middle, a water pit, at its base, a lounge area with a TV on the wall…

A candlelit table covered with a white tablecloth, and a single red rose in a vase in the center. Why did he have that…?

"Have a seat, have a seat," he urged.

"Oh, uhm… Okay."

Furret Abigail walked over and sat down on a cushion facing opposite of another. Zoroark Aaron snapped his claws. As he did, his pajamas morphed into a white button-up shirt with a black bowtie.

"Everything is on the house on tonight's menu," Aaron said. "Dinner, me… You name it, you got it. Candle flames are illusions, by the way. Couldn't get the lighter on…"

"I just wanted to ask you about something Nightlight related…" she said.

Aaron's butler appearance faded back to pajamas. He frowned and sat down across from her. With a short puff of air, he blew out the candles (though they were illusions, so).

"I was looking around the Overlord's quarters."

"Oh yah," he said. "Forgot that existed. Most prefer the cozier rooms down here to the whole medieval dark lord kinda vibe."

No kidding. "Yah, I was just looking through some files. I was wondering if you knew about them."

"What kinda files?" he looked up.

"Well, all sorts of science mumbo jumbo… But, they kept calling the N.A. the 'Surface Dragoon unit'. I was wondering if you knew what that meant."

"I'm not too familiar with Nightlight stuff," Aaron said, leaning closer to the table. "But, I hear Anne talking about plenty of old, dead projects, from before our time."

"There was some word device kinda things in the room, too. Like some kind of, container, and a spiked metal thing."

"The previous Overlords were Kite August and Lancelot Acuity," he said. "People are worried about Kite ever since he went missing, but, Lancelot seems to be the most suspicious for that stuff. He was the last person to really use those quarters. But, you've heard the gossip, right? That people think he's the White Star's father."

"Yah," she nodded.

"Well, people have come up with all sorts of shady stuff. Amadeus never chose one of his sons to be an heir, but, rumors have it that he wanted the crown pretty badly. Amadeus might not be around, you could always ask Gawain's father about him."

A solid place to start. "Thanks, Aaron," she said.

"No prob. Is that the only thing you wanted to ask me?" His voice lowered. "You've got my full attention."

Abigail's tail flourished. "Not really…"

"We're friends. You can ask."

Screw it. She might as well.

"Why'd you guys pick me at the Royal Parade?" she asked. "I mean, you guys were princes having your moment, right? Didn't anyone else interest you guys?" She glanced to the side. "I haven't even heard a peep from anyone else at the parade."

"I don't know," Aaron said. "Call me corny, but from the moment I first saw you, I could tell you were the real deal. Every single time I talk to you, I just feel that way more." His eyes fell. "I met all of the others from the Royal Parade. Some of them seemed nice, but I couldn't look at them the same way after I met you. So, there you have it."

Abigail stayed silent. She clenched her paws together.

"Although," Aaron said, "I prefer when you don't have bags under your eyes, so how about you go get some sleep?"

"Yah," she said. "Right."

"I'll escort you to your room to make up for all my latest bad jokes."

"Okay."

Aaron pushed and stood up, with her. They walked out of the room side by side. Abigail waited for Aaron to close his door and make sure it was locked. She held onto his arm as they went.