15th Winter Moon, 907

If one were to ask Roscoe how is search for a new heir to Verde Kingdom was going, he'd be reluctant, dare one say agitated, to humor such a question with a legitimate response. He may even reconsider checking the orphanage for an heir.

He debated the purpose of searching for an heir in the lower class with himself for hours before going about his mission. Why not pay off a noble to have their kid take over the throne? If he asked, any noble would surely go along with it without question. It just meant more clout in the upper class society. Most noble families went about political marriages and, half the time, their kids went along with it for the good of the families. Taking up the throne would be a step up.

Thing was, Roscoe knew noble children too well. Many trained under respected knights to protect their lineage and themselves, with Luna Freia as a notable example. However, with Luna as a rare exception, noble children let the sway of power take command over basic logic. Roscoe wasn't any better, he admitted, but giving power like that to a spoiled brat would be the gravest mistake of his career.

He rationalized that someone who understood the needs of the people and lived through tough times would be a suitable heir to take command. Someone humble, stern, and just in all the right ways. That was his main objective. Sadly, there was a snag in his plan.

Rich or poor, kids can still act like total brats.

Roscoe would pull the kids off to the side for something of a chitchat under the assumption he wants to get to know the village better. For the most part, the first half of conversation went well, leading up to his questioning. Simple things like asking what they love about their village and what they would do if they were in charge. He would then propose the theoretical question of what they would do if they were royalty.

The answers didn't bestow confidence.

He could recall the myriad of responses he got from the kids. Most weren't anything special to write home about, but the ones that stood out shot a hole through his search.

One Inkay he talked to mentioned something about his parents complaining about the high taxes imposed by the kingdom, so:

"If I was king, I would make everything free so no one would ever have to feel burdened by money again!" Ignoring the simultaneously basic and complicated practice of economics, what the little squid boy proposed could be equated to stealing if left uncheck. The kid had good intentions, but clearly didn't know the purpose of currency.

Roscoe tried his luck with a young Deino and asked what she would do if she was the queen. Young, dressed in ragged clothes, and smiling with an upbeat attitude. Surely a positive sign, right?

"If I was queen, I would make a law demanding everything be pretty! I want all the fanciest clothes ever, and everything needs to be sparkly and beautiful! No ugly Pokémon allowed!" Well, that could've gone better. And the verbal lashing he got about his fake beard and clothes didn't help either.

Perhaps the shy looking Bunnelby could provide him some hope.

"…Death to all my bullies who stole my lunch."

What is wrong with kids these days?! Roscoe had thought.

His chances didn't turn out any better when he ran into the one type of heir he didn't have any interest in adopting: an arrogant brat. A Cubone he interviewed made it apparent he didn't have the best intentions when it came to assuming that much power.

"Clearly I would make an amazing king! I'd be super loved, rich, and command all the cutest girls in the kingdom to marry me! Then I'll crush any other stupid kingdom that doesn't obey me!"

That was the point where Roscoe gave up and took a break. He collapsed beside a house and massaged his face after six hours of interviewing children. Aside from those particular four, everyone else was either inadequate or just not right for the position. He knew none of the children would have the education necessary to be a true king, but he would've educated them just fine. It's their personality and beliefs he was looking out for.

Roscoe can someone sympathize with the terrible four. No doubt living under stressful conditions left them time to fantasize what it would be like to achieve power. They were young. The full weight of consequence and action wasn't at the forefront of their minds. Or perhaps that's what they believe how the rich should act.

The more time he spent in this village, the worse he felt. No doubt a lot of what transpired was his fault. If Odolina were still alive, she would've done everything in her power to give the people what they needed. She served to make the best of Verde's resources to give those under their domain comfortable, satisfying lives.

And yet, Roscoe tainted the Penworth legacy by selfishly hording those funds, all without a valid reason. He was in too deep to stop now.

Roscoe sighed and leaned his head back, gazing into the clouds as snow fluttered into his fur. "I wish I could ask for your guidance, Odolina, but I doubt you're smiling upon me with support. No, because you know the kind of cruel man I am, unabashedly continuing with my pursuits despite the conflict between mind and heart within. Does a man whose heart froze to empathy deserve to be treated with kindness when he selfishly does what is necessary for salvation?" He sighed. "And naturally, you would open up with warmth, then and now."

He hugged his legs against his chest and rested his chin on the knees. "Perhaps I should chance choosing the mediocre candidates. At least they don't present bad habits. Still, they don't have what I need. I need someone fit to rule in my place. I'm trying my hardest to make a difference, but I've never been cut out to be king. I'm trying too hard in something I…" He stopped himself and shook his head.

"At this point, finding a wife would be less hassle. I went through one political marriage without much care. What's one more, even if whatever woman I marry won't be Odolina?"

Tormented by his own thoughts, Roscoe decided he needed to take a long break. Six hours of interviewing was long enough, and he skipped lunch.

"I could go for one bowl of Keith's stew right about now," he muttered. He pushed himself up, dusted his clothes off, and dragged his feet to the pegleg monkey's stall. "Eating does comfort the soul, I suppose."

Roscoe arrived at Keith's stand and sat at his usual spot. He knocked on the front counter a couple times and waited until the peglegged Mankey stumbled out from the back, cleaning off his hands with a rag.

"Aye, there's my favorite customer. The usual?"

Roscoe smiled. "Please and thank you." He dropped the bits down, which Keith immediately swiped. Roscoe lay his head down to take a breather.

"Rough day?" Keith asked as he reached around for ingredients. "Actually, I could've sworn I saw you talking to a bunch of kids all day. Any, uh, particular reason for that?"

Roscoe waved it off. "Don't think too deeply about it. Nothing malicious. We talked about this when I first arrived, remember?"

"Hmm…ah right, I remember. You wanted to offer the kids out here your practical wisdom of the outside world. So, how's that working out for you?" Keith asked as he proceeded to chop up vegetables.

"Depends. There's quite a number of vindictive children out here, some worse than others."

Keith rolled his eyes. "Oh, believe me, I know what you mean. The kids out here can be a nightmare. Most would shamelessly flout the adults here, especially the loners and orphans. Most are all bark, but then you have those little weasels that steal from my shop because it's some game to them. Or, you know, food and junk. I tell ya, when pushed to the edge, kids can be pretty scary. Too unpredictable. Never know what they're thinking."

"Seems a little harsh, don't you think?" Roscoe questioned.

The Mankey waved his knife at Roscoe. "Let me tell you something, Fletch. There's nothing scarier than a kid that doesn't know what they're doing. They lack experience, the education to understand cause and effect. Some contribute lack of intelligence as a weakness, where they can't develop ways around basic logic. See, I interpret that lack of intelligence as an advantage. A trickster can bamboozle the average man and outsmart a smart man. But how do you trick a man already confused by the day-to-day course of life? Short answer, depends on what mood they're in that day. An idiot is a dangerous type of person, because they act like wild cards. You can't account for that kind of thinking. Sometimes they fall for the trick, sometimes they completely misinterpret it, thus ruining the trick.

"But kids aren't idiots. They're little devils. That lack of wisdom and intelligence is offset by a child's greatest weapon: curiosity and imagination. They're like mini alchemists. They hypothesize a question, despite how simple it sounds to us adults, but they go about answering it in the most unpredictable ways. Is it any wonder that parents can't take their eyes off their children for even a minute? You can't predict the randomness of a child's logic.

"So maybe I am a bit harsh with those brats, but I can't excuse the fact they're little devils making my life their personal playground in Hell." Keith finished chopping vegetables and dropped them into a skillet.

Roscoe, understandably, stared at the Mankey with a perplexed expression. "You've, uh, certainly put a lot of thought into your views on children."

"I've had a long time to simmer over it. Hell, most of the Foresters are made up of children or young adults. They have that youthful energy and imagination as a weapon. I certainly don't have that luxury. I'm just some cook making a living in my dirt poor village."

Roscoe crossed his arms onto the counter. "Right…" He tapped his arm a couple times, then asked, "Do you really believe all children are like that?"

Keith cut up some meat and threw it into the skillet. "Eh, maybe I'm blowing too much hot air. I don't know, maybe? I've just had that one ragtag group robbing me blind, so…"

"Hmm. Speaking of which, where's the little guy? Charlie?"

"I sent him to pick up some boxes from my pal at the tavern." Keith glanced over his shoulder. "And there he is now."

Roscoe turned around and spotted the little Clobbopus pushing a stack of boxes on a flatbed cart. Sweat dripped down the comparatively tiny octopus' head, working all his leg tentacles to push himself and the cart forward.

"H-Here's your crates, M-Mr. Tibia," Charlie whined.

Roscoe frowned. He had been keeping an eye on Charlie since their first meeting. Though Keith worked him through the wringer, the little octopus made good on his promise to pay off his debt, despite the struggles and herculean tasks he had to perform. Roscoe considered lending his assistance, as a handful of other villages attempted, but Charlie always protested that it was his burden to bear. He was dead set on paying off his debt, something Roscoe could admire.

Still, watching a child struggle when he clearly sat near his limits didn't sit well with the disguised monarch. He stood up and, without a word to Charlie, picked a box off the cart.

Charlie gasped. "M-Mr. Fletcher! D-Don't worry, I can handle—"

"I bet Mr. Tibia will want these put into stacks. You're too short to do that, so I'm simply making up for the effort."

"B-But—"

"Just take the help, kid!" Keith yelled over his shoulder. "I don't need you whining about it! Time is money!"

Charlie whimpered, but relented as Roscoe carried the crates into the stand. With the load lightened, Charlie pushed them with greater ease to the back entrance, where Roscoe helped unload and stack them.

Roscoe wiped his brow and asked, "You really got all these on your own, little fella?"

Charlie nodded meekly. "Y-Yes."

"Must've taken a lot out of you."

"M-Mr. Tibia is scary when he's mad."

"Yes, our earlier conversation made that pretty clear."

Charlie grabbed a broom from the corner and started sweeping out the dirt that trailed inside. Roscoe stepped out of his way, using the crates as a seat, and watched the little octopus work. A gentle smile appeared on Roscoe's face.

"Heh. So, how long do you think you'll need to work here until your debt's paid off?"

Charlie shrugged. "I-I don't know. Mr. Tibia said it could take months. My friends and I…stole a lot of things."

"Do you just target him?"

Charlie shook his head. "My friends and I steal from other people, too, but they like stealing from Mr. Tibia. They say he makes funny faces when he gets mad, and they like picking on him since he doesn't have legs. It's easy to run away from him."

"Well, you know you could run away, right?"

"Don't give him any ideas, Fletch!" Keith yelled over his stove. Roscoe chuckled.

Charlie stopped sweeping and looked down at the floor. "I…meant what I said when you caught me. I didn't mean to steal from Mr. Tibia. I don't like making people mad."

Roscoe narrowed his eyes. "And yet you were stealing from him with your friends."

"Yeah…"

Roscoe pulled his legs up and hugged them against his chest. "Kid, why do you hang out with those boys? They don't seem like the type of crowd you'd want to be around. There's plenty of other kids in the village you could play with…save for a few I recommend staying away from."

Charlie looked up at Roscoe wide-eyed. "But…they're my friends."

"They make you do things you don't like and used you as a distraction to take the fall. I wouldn't call those friends. If anything, they're using you because you're expendable."

Charlie shook his head. "That's not true. They care about me."

"Why are you doing all the work then?"

Charlie looked down sadly. "Because it's my fault I let myself get caught. I'm not fast or strong or brave like them. They say I'm too weak to take care of myself, that I'm better off helping them than starving for food. They let me stay in their underground hideout with a warm place to sleep for the night."

Roscoe squinted. "Why would you need to sleep outside, though? Don't you have—" Roscoe's eyes widened in realization. "Oh. Oh…" Roscoe frowned. "Kid, I…I'm sorry."

Charlie sniffled. "It's fine."

"How long have you been…on your own?"

"I don't remember. I'm not good at remembering days. I…I think I was five. My mom got sick, and my dad was killed fighting bandits. My friends invited me into their secret base so that I wouldn't starve or get cold out at night. I didn't like the things they were doing, but—"

"You owe it to them because they pulled you out of a difficult spot," Roscoe concluded. He sighed. "Now it all makes sense."

Charlie sniffled. "I don't want to be a bad Pokémon. They keep telling me it was for our own good, that adults wouldn't care what happened to us."

Unbeknownst to them both, Keith listened in as he cooked the stew. His eyes drifted down in soft glare as a heaviness burdened his shoulders.

"I…I didn't want them to kick me out for being weak or arguing with them, so I went along with whatever they wanted. I-I wanted to be just like them so they would see I'm important."

Roscoe glared. "And here you are, sweeping up floors to pay for their crimes."

Charlie looked down. "It's…better than all of us going down."

"But it's not right for you to be burdened with their crimes. You could've tried reaching out to someone."

"I was scared," Charlie whimpered, clutching the broom to his chest. "I…I didn't know if anyone would care about me. I always hear people arguing with each other over little things. Scraps, medicine, money, and other things. I was scared they might hurt me. I've seen Pokémon get into fist fights over loosing money. W-What if they hurt me for bothering them?"

Roscoe frowned. Have the people out here really devolved to their primal instincts over a few coins? He gripped his pants. Nothing's changed in so long. People are still acting like beasts. Have the last thousand years of civilization meant nothing to these people?

Charlie closed his eyes. "All I wanted was to make my mom happy."

Roscoe blinked back to reality and looked down at the Clobbopus. "What do you mean?"

"Before she…went up into the stars, she made me promise something. I don't remember everything she said or what she meant, but she asked me to…be a good person. She…Mom hated seeing people get angry with each other. It made her upset. It scared me. She didn't like the fighting. She asked me…to be a better Pokémon so that maybe others will be nicer. I tried being nice to my friend, and they accepted me."

Roscoe glanced over at Keith. "And you haven't ran away from your chores because it'd be rude. It's the nice thing to do."

Charlie nodded. "Mhmm."

Roscoe glared. That attitude of yours…it reminds me of Melissa. Though, you're much more docile than her. Roscoe sighed. "You really shouldn't hang out with those boys anymore."

"But they—"

"They took you in and kept you safe, I get that. That much I can respect." Roscoe narrowed his eyes sadly. "Still kid, regardless of their intentions, they left you to take the fall for them. I haven't seen much of them all week, either. Actually, come to think of it, where have you been sleeping?"

Charlie hung his head. "In here."

"Here?"

"I sleep in the corner with the blankets Mr. Tibia gave me. He keeps the fire going in the stove so I don't freeze."

"I see." Roscoe hung his legs over the crates. "Charlie, I can see you have a good heart, though there's so much more you could do for people if you acted more independent. You're probably the friendliest face I've seen from this village so far. If you want to make your mom happy, maybe you should try a different angle."

"But I'm just a kid," Charlie whined. "I don't know what to do. I can't do anything."

Roscoe chuckled. "Keith went into a long rant on how much he hates kids, but he said something interesting: kids have powerful imaginations. If you put some thought into it, maybe opportunity will find you."

"How?"

Roscoe shrugged. "Well, I don't know. What would you do if you were king?" he asked jokingly.

Charlie blinked up at the Lopunny, wiping away the few tears hanging onto his eyelids. "K-King?"

Roscoe shrugged. "You know, what would you do if you had the power to change the Verde Kingdom? Heck, change all of Virdis?"

Charlie narrowed his eyes, then looked down at the floor. Roscoe didn't expect an answer so soon. Well, at least from Charlie. A handful of the kids he talked to either had to think it over for a while, or they said the first thing on their minds. Again, that was usually the bad ones running their mouths off. Charlie's hesitance at least meant he would consider his answer.

Still, Roscoe didn't expect Arceus-like wisdom to come out of this cowardly child's mouth/beak/whatever orifice a Clobbopus had. Probably a mouth if their evolution is anything to go by. Actually, Charlie was the one kid he actively avoided, already noting he wouldn't be fit to take his position as king. Again, he reminded him too much of Melissa.

Charlie gripped his broom tighter. "I…I don't know."

Roscoe raised his brow. "Nothing at all?"

"N-No."

"I'm not expecting much. You could just say you want to live comfortably and get rich. There's no wrong answer." Okay, that's a lie, but I don't want this kid bursting into tears.

Charlie shook his head. "I…I wouldn't make a good king."

My sentiments exactly.

"I wouldn't want to disappoint anyone."

"…Hmm?" Roscoe leaned forward. "What do you mean?" Now he was curious. He got some pretty selfish answers, even some uncertain ones, but not from lack of self-esteem. No, this was a first. "Why would you think that?"

Charlie closed his eyes. "I don't have any great ideas. I let other people come up with ideas for me because they're so much smarter. It's not like I could contribute anything to make people's lives better. I'm just a nobody…"

"I have done everything you asked and have worked hard to be the next ruler of Verde Kingdom! Do not talk to me of JUST! I do not expect my due meed for my cooperation, but I do ask for respect in my wishes!"

Roscoe winced as a memory of that night flashed before him. One of the first and last times he ever heard Melissa lose her temper so…vehemently. She lacked the skill of a leader, but she certainly had ambition and heart. Charlie, however, lacked ambition and leadership, and his heart was easily swayed if the right words were used.

He imagined Melissa in Charlie's place and considered it the dark reflection of the young princess' fears. Roscoe could never grasp Melissa's darkest fears, but he had time to reflect on it after their fight. She didn't hide what she feared most, and Charlie stood as a prime example of what that fear led to.

He felt…sympathetic to the octopus.

"…I was a nobody once."

Charlie sniffled, then looked back at Roscoe. "H-Huh?"

Roscoe smiled. "It's true. I was just some nobody no one gave a passing glance at. I…didn't really have a home, the traditional kind. I just had the earth around me. I could've withered to dust, and no one would've known the tragedy of the wandering Fletcher."

"Oh. I'm sorry, Mr. Fletcher. Did you lose your parents, too?"

Roscoe frowned. "Yeah…something like that." He sighed and glared down at Charlie. "But kid, no one deserves to be a nobody. Even if you're the least important person in the world, no one deserves to be forgotten as some thing taking up space. The worst legacy is one that corrades. No one ever pays mind to the dust at their feet, wondering what it once made up. Could've been a mountain, a rock, or a forgotten grave. After all, isn't it our job to preserve history?"

"I…guess? I'm not really sure what you mean."

Roscoe shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Charlie, you may out here thinking you're a nobody, but you do have potential. It's just a matter of tempering."

"My temper? I'm not angry."

"Softening. Molding. Refining that potential tucked away deep inside you." Roscoe knelt down and patted Charlie's head. "Maybe you're not ready now, but perhaps you'll make a great king in the future."

"Really?" Charlie asked, eyes sparkling wide.

Roscoe laughed. "Well, hypothetically, of course." He paused on Charlie's confused look. "Uh…supposedly."

"Oh."

"In the meantime, just try to be a better person for your mom's sake. Maybe find some new friends. Take up a hobby. Be your own person."

"Be my own person…" he mumbled in awe.

Keith let out a loud snort, directing Roscoe's attention to him. "I hate to ruin this touching moment, but stew's ready."

"Ah, good." Roscoe stood up and stretched. "I'll be turning in early today. Maybe I'll swing by and help lighten the load for you."

Keith huffed. "Whatever. It's on your time."

Roscoe smiled down at Charlie. "Try to think about what I said, okay? See you later, kid." He turned and walked out of the stand, wrapping around to the seating area right as Keith poured a piping hot bowl of stew.

Charlie stared at Roscoe in silence, then turned away as he continued sweeping the floors. "Be my own person…be my own person…be my own person…"

Eyes scanned around the table, occupants eyeing each other up while keeping a tight hold of their cards. Masterfully crafted poker faces hiding either a winning hand or a terrible arrangement of cards. Experienced players skilled in the game.

Regina felt right at home as she looked around the table, not bothering to hide the smirk on her face. With a sizable hand of winnings stacked by her side, she felt lucky. It seemed nonsensical how easily she was winning to the point where many of her opponents called her out for cheating. The mere accusation offended her, stooping so low as to point fingers against a beautiful Zangoose such as herself for daring to partake in such an underhanded act.

Of course, it was true, but the accusation hurt.

Regina played smart with her cheating, though. She made sure to lose a few hands on purpose, folding when the loss to her collected winnings didn't impede her personal winning streak. It was one of the only useful skills she picked up after being disowned from House von Elmnou.

Behind her were two burly gentlemen, a Garchomp and a Hawlucha. Another useful skill Regina often employed was her irresistible charm. After a series of lucky hands, she wooed the two tough guys as her own personal guards in the likelihood she was caught and things turned violent. With Katsu gone, how can a helpless damsel such as herself go on without a big, strong man protecting her? She had an image to uphold, after all.

Though, to keep on the safe side, she kept one hand on a small gourd and satchel attached to her waist, both containing a little something in the event she had to raise her fists and fight.

Three players decided to fold due to Regina's confident grin, leaving only the Swadloon in front of her. With an annoyed grunt, he threw down his cards. "Two pair, threes and kings."

Regina's smirk grew. "Oh you poor fool. That desperate for a win?" She threw her hand down. "Three of a kind, fours."

Swadloon's eyes widened, then he bashed his face into the table, groaning as Regina shoveled the money pile to her side.

"Thanks for playing~!" Regina teased.

The Garchomp and Hawlucha clapped. "Excellent play, my dear," the Garchomp praised.

"You are on a winning streak!" Hawlucha cheered.

Regina tilted her head and flashed a coy grin. "Oh, you boys are too much." She gave them both a kiss on the cheek and nuzzled against them. "Perhaps a round of drinks. My treat~."

"You're too kind," Garchomp said softly.

Regina turned away and hid her cheeky, evil grin. "Oh, I know~."

The poker players groaned and, seeing they were low on money, stepped away from the table and walked to the bar counter. Regina sat down, shrugged it off, and pulled the hidden playing cards out from her sleeve, shuffling them around. "I must thank Katsu for teaching me these tricks. I haven't felt this wealthy in months. I'm over the moon! Hahahahaha!"

"You may save the praise for another time, Lady von Elmnou." Regina nearly dropped her cards, but caught them in time before looking up at the tavern banister, where Katsu descended down the stairs. "We need to talk."

Regina's guards reached for their weapons, but stopped when she jumped from her seat and rushed over to the Accelgor. "Katsu! Oh, I'm so happy you're back! Check it out!" She gestured to her winnings on the table. "I held up my end of the plan. We're swimming in riches."

"I can see that." Katsu squinted at her two men. "Annnd…I assume you've been doing more than just drinking. They certainly look like your type."

Regina waved it off. "Oh, don't overthink it, I haven't been having flings. They're just two nice men who realized I'm a delicate flower that must be protected at all times." She cupped her face and flashed a cute smile. "Can you really blame them?"

"Knowing you, I'm surprised they aren't being blackmailed into this." Katsu sighed and crossed his arms. "I'm glad you have money, because we're going to need a ride soon."

Regina tilted her head. "How come?" She pointed up the stairs. "Also…why did you come from upstairs instead of using the front door?"

Katsu turned and gestured her upstairs. "See for yourself." Confused, Regina followed him up with her two guards joining in. Katsu glared. "Lady von Elmnou—"

"Oh, they're fine. They can guard the room for me," she assured.

Katsu's glare deepened. "Lady von Elmnou, though I trust you, I would feel more comfortable knowing you weren't sleeping with random men—"

"I told you, I haven't been having flings!" Regina yelled, red peering through her white fur. "…Y-You know…right now, at least." Katsu just rolled his eyes and kept on walking. "Seriously, why did you come from the second floor?"

"Because I didn't want any patrons seeing me drag two bodies through the main floor."

Regina hummed to herself, then nodded. "Oh yeah, that makes perfect sense."

…

"Wait, what?"

They arrived at their room, where Katsu knocked the door open. Regina poked her head inside and saw the Whimsicott and Lampent rolling around in their bindings with gags covering their mouths. The Whimsicott looked absolutely terrified while the Lampent viciously scratched the walls with her lamp covering. The scratches spelled out letters that read:

"15th Winter Moon, 907. 17:47. Currently being held hostage by an Accelgor, and now a Zangoose. Signed, Saga the Chronicler."

Regina blinked at them, then looked down at Katsu. "When you said you were going to capture Foresters, I didn't assume that meant stuffing them in our room."

"Well, I certainly can't keep them in the forest, not with them searching for me."

"You've been spotted?!" Regina gasped.

"A slight miscalculation on my part, but it hardly matters to our real concern. We're on a time limit. Two Foresters are searching for these two. We have a few days or so before they come to Marshland Village and investigate every building for these two. I'm entrusting you to keep an eye on these nitwits while I try to gather more Foresters for our bounty quota."

Regina grimaced. "I have to watch over these grimy peasants? Ugh, seriously?"

Katsu glared. "Lady von Elmnou, you wanted to become a bounty hunter and I respected your wishes. If you are to make a suitable name for yourself, grunt work is essential. Besides, these two are harmless. Hardly put up a struggle. You just need to make sure to feed them the poison I'm using, and make sure they don't die from starvation or something. I prefer we take them in alive first before The Ghost gives us our bounty."

"Now you want me to feed them? Are you daft—" Regina flinched as the Whimsicott started going into an extra-frantic panic, even scaring the Lampent out of her chronicling rant. He seemed even more terrified than before, shouting something through his gag. "What's gotten into him?"

Katsu shrugged. "Not sure. He's been pretty fidgety since I'm captured him. Not this fidgety, though. Like I said, The Ghost will probably want them alive before we can cash that bounty in. After that, we'll dump these two off the mountain. Either Algus knights find them, or they freeze in the snow."

Regina tapped her chin. "Well, I wouldn't want to keep lugging around useless luggage." She groaned and slumped forward. "Still, do I really need to babysit them? That's so…ugh."

Katsu huffed. "Lady von Elmnou, the Foresters are made up of dangerous rogues. I wouldn't want you taking my place. Besides, I'm leaving you in charge to procure us a ride and to keep an eye out for those two Foresters. A Grumpig and a Mawile, to be exact. Make sure these two are kept dirty. We don't want their scent giving away their position."

Regina groaned once more, but this time in compliance. "Fine. As long as I get my land deed out of it."

Katsu nodded. "You'll be fine, my lady. I have the utmost faith in you."

"That means a lot coming from you, Katsu." She glared at him. "But are you sure you should be going back out there now that the Foresters know who you are?"

"As long as I remain patient, I can't fail. I have no interest going after the stronger members of the Foresters. That's why I grabbed these two first. I'll be sure to grab a few more, then we can meet up with The Ghost. After that, that land deed will be yours, my lady."

Regina rubbed her hands together and grinned. "I suppose I can play babysitter for a few days. You can count on me, Katsu!" She turned to the door and snickered. "And with some extra muscle to keep me safe, it shouldn't be much issue."

"But remember," Katsu warned, "try to avoid confronting the Grumpig and Mawile. They don't seem particularly fast, but I can tell they're both strong. Only fight in absolutely necessary."

"Yeah, yeah, I know what I'm doing, Katsu." She grabbed his cloak and pulled him out of the room. "Now, you've been gone for too long. Let me treat you to some dinner with my winnings!"

"Perhaps it was a mistake leaving you to gamble our money."

"I love being rich! Ahahahahahaha!" She turned to her bodyguards and winked at them. "Would you boys be so kind as to keep an eye on the door? We wouldn't want our two pests escaping?"

The Garchomp and Hawlucha rooted themselves beside the door and nodded. "By your command, my lady!"

"Hahahahahaha!" Regina laughed. "I love being rich!"

Katsu sighed as she continued to drag him. "And this is the other reason you were kicked out of House von Elmnou…"

Once the door closed, Thales went into full panic mode, flailing his body around the room while Saga watched on in disbelief.

What the heck has gotten into you, Thales? Saga thought. Like, I get we're being held captive, but this is pathetic even for you. She sighed to herself. Whatever. Better record this. She bent down and etched a new note into the wall.

If only she could read minds, lest she understand the depths of Thales' concerns. Capture merely stirred his anxiety and fear, but the conditions behind it sentenced him to an early death bed. One plagued by fears of the past and legends rooted in folklore, Thales foresaw disaster at the mention of a creature that shouldn't exist. A warning told to scare kids to bed come to life.

Whispered in a legend that never existed. From here to there, but never remembered. What is a comedian without tragedy? Fear the one whose name corraded with time itself, a ghost of Virdis' dark history.