"Beautiful, isn't it, old chum?"
The rains had stopped, letting morning fog clear to give the two pokemon on the upper balcony of the WFG hall a view of Pith Town and beyond. White-stone buildings of nearly identical size with red-tiled roofs extended outward. Expanding as such were congested inner streets, ceasing only with the presence of oceanside harbor on one corner, or monumental factories on the other. Chimneys jutted out of the structures in the distance, releasing grey smoke that drifted in the wind like octopus tentacles. Nearly concealing by this exhaust was a massive blob of green to the east. Chimera would have indeed admitted that it was an impressive sight, if not for the fact that the Bagon standing next to Binair over silver balcony rails had his head locked straight down. His eyes didn't blink, nearly lost within the call of the void.
"Most any other bagon I've known would have jumped by now; why haven't you?"
It was a question the former-human had been considering heavily in the past month. The first time he had done it, sightseeing on that familiar cliff side with his companion; next to her one moment and with rocky forehead dug into the beach below the next, it was more a matter of satiating boredom. As frail as his new body was, a certain routine had developed in the Bagon's free time, despite having grown inconsistent as the days went on.
"I...don't know, not really. I can still feel it looking over the edge, this shot of adrenaline crawling up my spine. But when I hit the ground, there's only a shiver. Something in my mind...this feeling is telling me that what I'm doing is wrong, that it's against my nature."
Binair walked next to Chimera, occasional glances shifting to the weapon at his side and the grey cape over his back,
"If we're to analyze this dilemma, old chum, we have to figure out the cause. You know that bagon jump in order to prepare their bodies for evolution, correct? To harden their cells so their forehead grows into a cocoon that protects the development of their wings?"
Chimera nodded, not shifting his head from the entourage of pokemon below walking into the guild hall entrance. With Binair's info came another cringe, tiny hands shaking with the morning breeze,
"Of course. Just last night I told someone that they couldn't always fight nature, and that it was in my nature to jump, but the more I do it, the more I realize my mind is shouting at me that it isn't right. I don't understand."
A pink aura emanated around Chimera's crossbow, shocking him from the trance of below. Peripheral vision showed that a similar light had appeared on the Girafarig's horns.
"May I?"
Chimera gestured in approval, letting the device unsling from his waist and float in front of Binair. The Girafarig's eyes narrowed analyzing its inner mechanics from every angle, ending with a smile toward the pokemon at his side.
"Fine craftsmanship no doubt. And I think we've come to the source of your conflict old chum. You have a particular talent for working with your hands, and with this comes a question you've yet to answer: Do you even want to evolve?"
"Well, if I did," Chimera replied, flashing a grin to Binair somewhere between humor and melancholy, "I figured I could just mount a giant ballista to my back, how hard could it be?"
The Bagon turned back toward the ground, letting cool air swish past his scales as he tried to parse whether the way his breaths quickened and his vision narrowed was due to excitement, or dread, or perhaps both. If keyboards still existed in this universe, Chimera figured his words per minute would already suffer with arms and fingers as short as they were, never mind having neither at all. On the other hand, their foes were bound to become more formidable if they were to accept Eoin's offer, and not having access to his elemental abilities had been a source of frustration since his arrival. He closed his eyes and sighed, focus stuck between the stubby appendages he could feel and the crimson-red ones he couldn't, unsure which path to take.
"Huh," he said, turning back to Binair with a snort, "In all seriousness I'm not sure. God...am I really like that pikachu?"
"I beg your pardon, what pikachu?"
"Forget about it. Anyway I've avoided the issue until now, even to my partner, but I think I'll have to say no. If nature is something that forces me to lose my arms...then I'll fight it, even if it makes me a disappointment."
The Bagon expected Binair to object the statement, or at least nod in disapproval, but on his visage instead appeared a nearly imperceptible grin.
"On the contrary, I couldn't be happier, old chum. I'm willing to bet you aren't fighting your nature at all, only you're more of a chimera than most realize."
Chimera nodded and returned the grin, but his hands shook even more with the Girafarig's praise. Something about the way he said it seemed...off, like a teacher spouting vague generalities to lead a student to the correct answer.
"What do you mean by that?"
Binair's grin only grew, accompanied by an ornate cane levitating from his side to direct the Bagon to the town below. Chimera's vision followed the pointer. He saw a group of pokemon in the harbor stacking crates onto a three-sailed supply ship, most adorned with tricorns or other appropriate headgear. On the grassy field below was another group, with a Breloom that had thrown his croquet mallet to the ground in frustration just as he had one month ago. Past furnished houses and paved streets was a Meowth, returning to town with soot on its face from being in one of the dirtier factory positions,
"The world we live in, the games we play, the culture we appreciate, doesn't it seem the least bit...familiar, to a pokemon such as yourself?"
The answer in Chimera's mind was a yes, if only tentatively. The glazed over stare the Chatot that organized their missions gave hunched over a stack of papers was a familiar one, and the vessels, fashion, and infrastructure throughout Pith Town seemed to be ripped straight from a history book, but he'd be lying to say there were no differences. Just the concept of a mystery dungeon had no equivalent to the world he once knew, and the various tools he had crafted along his journey often drew wandering looks from pokemon that had the power of flight or fire at their figurative fingertips. A second passed until the repercussions of Binair's question followed Chimera's conscious, arms shaking ever more despite his attempts at keeping a straight face. He wanted to keep it a secret, something only his partner would know, but the grin on the Girafarig's tail conveyed what its face couldn't,
"You...you know, don't you?"
"How could I not, old chum?" Binair replied, hoof raising to pat what part of a bagon could be considered its shoulders. "The way you fight, the way you think, I've studied humanity enough to know that this weapon isn't something native to this world. The reason you've arrived has yet to be revealed, but rest assured, your secret's safe with me."
The weapon levitated back into Chimera's hands, helping to alleviate their quivering. Had the former-human's secret been known to most other pokemon, terror would have stricken his heart, but there was a sense of familiarity in Binair's grin that he couldn't put his finger on, one that assured him that the Girafarig was both genuine and able to be trusted with maintaining it. They both turned outward, looking upon a world as recognizable as it was foreign,
"Knowledge is a beautiful thing, wouldn't you say? And with knowledge, comes power. In the days before the WFG, most pokemon wouldn't give two figs about humanity's history, but I think we both see now that they were fools. Success doesn't come to many, but when one understands the economy of the caravel, the efficiency of the assembly line, and all the other innovations and systems that humanity took thousands of years to develop, one need only know the sacrifices of integrating them into a world such as this to prosper."
He recognized the feeling: the satisfaction of brewing curiosities being satiated just as they had talking to his partner in the dead of night. Just as before, answers brought even more questions. The most important difference, the Bagon figured, of living in a world privy to such a crude emulation was that, for once, he was on the right side of it.
"But...how did that knowledge even get here?"
"An interesting story, but one for another time," Binair replied. "Right now, I figured we should discuss your purpose for coming here."
"Oh, of course. Argon and I met this Charmander yesterday, and I think he wants us to go on an expedition with him to that island: Eastern Faire. We've been there before, but only to the mystery dungeons around the coast, and he seems pretty adamant that we head into the mainland. I came here to see if you have any missions available that would fit the bill."
For probably the first time since their initial meeting, Binair seemed shocked. His poised grin soon returned, but for barely a second, the Girafarig froze up, as if the calculations going through his mind had taken priority over keeping his two faces locked in a cordial demeanor. He cantered around the balcony in a pause to consider his options that Chimera couldn't determine as genuine or pretense.
"I must say, I wasn't expecting this proposal so soon, considering the nature of your partner, but it does make for a fine opportunity. As for a mission you three could go on...you remember the time gears, correct?"
"Of course," the Bagon replied with a chuckle, "I'm not sure what you're doing with them, but I am sure they would do a fine job at holding down paper."
"Very funny," came the deadpan reply, "If you're curious, I've been studying the one you and Argon returned, as well at holding it in protection against less scrupulous pokemon. From what I can ascertain, their presence is in someway related to the existence of mystery dungeons, and if they are brought together, the full extent of the powers they each contain will be discovered."
Chimera could see where it was going, though thought of their inevitable mission came with another resurgence of memories. His fingers twitched, contemplating the possibility that the yellow orbs that surrounded a Togetic would inevitably appear over him,
"Hey Binair, would-uh...would the name 'Temporal Tower' ring any bells?"
He blinked,
"I don't believe so, should it?"
A breath of relief escaped Chimera's mouth, whether from the Girafarig's ignorance or simply that whatever knowledge of prediction his memories had given him weren't perfect,
"No, it's just that...nevermind. So you want us to get more of the time gears, how many are there?"
"Two," Binair replied, "not counting the ones you've already delivered, guarded by Azelf and Mespirit respectively. I'll tell you their locations when your team departs, but more importantly, I was hoping to accompany you for after the job is finished, to instruct you on a little side business someone with your nature would be well suited for."
"What sort of side business?" Chimera asked, tone shifting. "I can understand why, but you haven't been too keen to giving out details on missions like these."
A hoof again raised to Chimera's shoulder, followed by a hearty chuckle from the Girafarig directed toward nobody but himself,
"I prefer to think of it as on-sight instruction being the superior method. Just know that it's an essential position. Without it, our world would have never advanced to the prosperous state we enjoy."
Indeed, a light seemed to flash in the Bagon's eyes from the proposal, but it quickly extinguished with consideration of its consequences,
"It sounds interesting, but...I made a deal with Argon a while back, that we'd try to keep all our missions close to home, I think I might be breaking it by agreeing."
"But there's a difference this time," Binair replied, "you wouldn't have met me here unless you thought your partner must at least have some interest in going. With this, comes opportunity. If she approves of going on this mission, what harm is there in finding some industrious use of your free time?"
Chimera's head sank, taking great deal to not let it wander over the edge of the rails. His director was correct in that there wouldn't be harm in a single mission, but after staying with Argon to this point, it would be a shame to see it again snowball into an instance that again left their paths divided. On the other hand, the past month of missions had been as unchallenged as it was monotonous, and the Bagon figured that if it kept up for another year or two without something to break it up, he was bound to go stir crazy. His head returned upward, finding that the hoof once at his side was now suspended toward him, mimicking a gesture no other pokemon on Faire had yet understood,
"Care to shake on it, old chum? Forgive my bluntness, but I can see it in your eyes: that potential. That drive for more that proves we're two threads in the same stitch. I respect Argon's desire to appreciate the smaller things in life, I wouldn't have been able to mark my legacy without pokemon like her, but...you're different, and in my opinion it would be a waste to let this offer slide. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life where you are now?"
Chimera already knew the answer, even as his conscious considered the possibilities of where it would lead. He had made a promise to his partner, but he had also made a promise to someone he knew before all of this, illusion or not. If he played his cards right, the Bagon was hopeful he could uphold both. Without another thought, he grasped the Girafarig's hoof with his own stubby arm, resoluteness replacing the gesture's initial awkward nature.
"No, I don't. I suppose you can't fight nature."
Chimera was soaring through the air, or at least the next best thing, and so were his companions. After a brief rendezvous, Bagon, Raichu, and Charmander found themselves in a fragile, narrow box of wood and canvas construction. A large, green wing jutted out from each side of the frame, giving the glider flight despite the Bagon spotting not a single engine for propulsion. In its place, was a Fearow, Staraptor, and Pidgeot, all wearing harnesses tied to sections of the craft that kept it airborne for the vast amount of distance they had to cover.
"We'll be dropping you three off at Mount Shayne in five minutes, hope you all don't mind the cold!"
An omnipresent shudder ran through every passenger. Argon nodded toward the source of the warning: a speaking tube that ran alongside the Fearow's harness through the tug rope and into the fuselage, barely able to convey the message against buckling canvas and winds. Chimera's eyes remained glued to the window, gazing toward the top of the nearly endless canopy of trees precluding their destination that concealed whatever happenings occurred below. Eoin held his fire close as he cast a glance at the various crates contributing to the craft's crowded nature. Though the Pallid's doubts were the highest, hopefully Binair had been honest in his promise that no expense was spared in providing supplies for their journey.
"You know," Chimera said, chuckling as he turned to the others, "I couldn't stand traveling like this back in the day, now…"
He plastered his face to the window, in the process nearly breaking the glass with his rocky forehead. The exhilaration in the Bagon's smile seemed like a bizarre contradiction to his partner, for the trembling that divulged terror in his heart was equally present.
"It's amazing."
Eoin snorted, still feeling the citrus-like aftertaste of a heal seed reverberate through mouth.
"Speak for yourself Chimera. I read about these craft for a short while, there aren't many ways a catastrophic failure could occur, but I know them."
"Are you afraid of heights?" Argon asked. "I-I'm sorry we didn't ask sooner, it's just that, well...when you reverted after we took off, I guess the thought didn't cross our minds."
The Charmander made his best attempt at a reassuring smile, before his eyes closed and he buried his head toward the floor,
"Only a little. The more I read about it, the more illogical it seemed; trusting your life to an amalgamation of plywood and cloth. The mission comes first, however, and I suppose this is better than climbing Mount Shayne from the bottom."
The Pallid had removed his goggles, and Argon spotted a slight taper of his pupils. While not nearly as prevalent as when she watched Eoin jam a stun seed into his mouth at the start of their journey, the effect was noticeable. What truly surprised her, however, was that a grin on Eoin's face had replaced the usual cringe of pain.
"Luckily I have not had to bear the brunt of it today. The Beast seems to be far more ignorant of the dangers than myself, and the more I succumbed to its control...the more I felt my fear drifting away. It is a bizarre advantage, and to have two recursions in the past day, with any luck my instinct will be more kind for the road ahead."
"Hey, if I wasn't here, you might not of even needed the stun seed," Chimera replied, previous excitement interrupted by deep breaths and a nervous look toward his partner, "and speaking of which, what even is this mission you keep talking about? I know my stake in this, but now that you're back, I'd be nice to know why you even agreed to come with us on this expedition."
Eoin's eyes shut after the remark, and he continued fidgeting with his hands, clutching a stun seed as if afraid to let go. Whether from recurring memories, or simply to avoid looking out of the windows, both pokemon would never know.
"When I went exploring into the forest, and came across the sight that lead to my mission, I was just as mentally unprepared as you two are now. Just know the...shock, the helplessness I felt, and the knowledge of its repercussions lead me to organize a movement, of which I am the leader. I apologize for my obscurity, but there are times when words can only do so much justice. I only ask for your belief that what I say is genuine."
The beginnings of a smile attempted to make their way to the Pallid's face, subsiding to the middle point between neutrality and frown,
"As for this specific expedition, I follow you both in the hopes that after this is finished, you will allow me to show you what I speak of in person. Besides, if Uxie chose to remain at its post guarding the time gear, I would be months behind my current intelligence. Having Azelf abandon its fool's bargain, that is a cause I can follow."
"So...you're doing this to get us to join the group that you've created," Argon commented.
Eoin nodded. His head shifted to the crates of supplies, grey ember escaping his tongue as it settled on the stack of rations packed for their trip.
"You know," Chimera said, eyes likewise closed in recollection, "you gotta wonder why they even guard those things. When Uxie teleported us out of the dungeon with that gear, I thought for sure that time in the area would stop, or...something. But no, unless you count nearly drowning as irregular, nothing happened."
Argon turned to her partner, faded paperback cover of a childhood story fresh in her mind,
"Y-Yeah, so did I. If the legends are true, and they really are in place to keep the flow of time in order, then it should have happened. My best guess is that there's someone or something keeping time in place after they're removed, or there's some other effect that we haven't seen yet."
"And with no Temporal Tower…" Chimera muttered under his breath as he turned to the Pallid, "Eoin, you were there after me and Argon left, did you see anything that might have been caused by the time gear being removed?"
It took a couple seconds before Eoin could raise his voice. The metal cover religiously attached over the Charmander's flame had been torn off, revealing a grey cinder that divulged how ill-suited its host was to their high altitudes. Despite this, no notion of complaint had been raised throughout the flight, and after preparatory hyperventilations Eoin seemed satisfied that he had an answer.
"I do, in fact. Most of the memories before my awakening are little more than hazy emotions and feelings, but just before I was able to teleport myself out of the dungeon, I remember this sensation of...pain, followed by a period of nothingness, then a quiet euphoria. Any movement I tried became heavier, as if with every second my very being was continuously sucked out and put to some higher purpose. For what reason I cannot imagine, but the instant Uxie made contact with me and dove into my mind, it ended, and I felt whatever I had lost being returned."
Bagon and Raichu shared a glance, each confirming that they were equally surprised by the story.
"T-That doesn't sound pleasant," Argon said, "are you sure you're alright with coming with us on this mission? I wouldn't want the same thing to happen to you."
"Of course," Eoin replied, "my purpose is bigger than myself, and I am hopeful whatever powers Uxie used have given me an immunity to any future dangers. Forgive me, it gets a little choppier from here, but the look on its face after the experience was akin to...guilt, a sense of culpability that pervaded all of our future interactions. I occasionally asked the lake guardian about the sensation, to no avail. Only just before we parted ways did I question why it was me specifically who was saved from the dungeon's effects. Uxie's answer was the last word we exchanged: 'Redemption'.
A call through the speaking tube jolted the trio to attention, bated breaths present in all three exacerbated through the Fearow's voice,
"We're...just about to drop you 'mons off, hold onto your tails! We'll be back here in a day or so. Air 'till this point gets too thin to fly, you'll have to hike the rest if you want to get to the mystery dungeon at the top. Articuno knows why you'd even bother, but may fortune favor the bold."
A sharp snap of tow lines detaching pierced through rattling support frames and buckling fabric. All three pokemon sat down and scrambled for something to hang on to, being jolted from their seats with a roaring thud accompanied by skiis skidding against frozen lake water. Every second of deceleration brought fears of a tree shattering through their fragile craft like claws through caterpie, ending only in the brief second where momentum brought the fuselage backward. Thankful breaths, most noticeable from the Charmander, echoed through the narrow confines.
They unpacked and equipped clothing supplied for the journey: a blend of mareep cloth sewn into thick blankets and coats. Chimera opened the exit. Chilling air and snow rushed through immediately. Partly concealing by such was view of their means of locomotion, visibly exhausted flying back the way they had come. The Bagon turned, grin forming on his face with sight of the gray and white mountain face in the distance no doubt concealing their goal,
"Well," Chimera said, snow condensing on his forehead doing little to cull enthusiasm, "shall we?"