"In hindsight, I did not do a… particularly good job at hiding my relations, did I, old chum?"
It took a fair amount of willpower Chimera to belay the urge to nod. Binair's head drooped, glancing toward the photo of the Girafarig, Zoroark, and egg in between. Only the tumultuous groans of the automobile engine sounded as it slowed to a crawl, kicking up bits of dirt and pebbles in the open field of gravel rock adjacent to the sizable manor before them. On instinct, the Bagon raised his hand to shield from the sun before it was obstructed by the jungle canopy, only to let out a defeated sigh upon reminder that the only thing they could reach was his mouth.
Instead, he stared over the Girafarig, as well as the continues entourage of carriages moving past the rear view mirror. His eyes shot open, a tinge of adrenaline running up his spine as a foreign noise sounded from his side. Was he… laughing?
More of a chuckle than anything, a tepid, defeated chuckle that only ambled to something manifesting humor, but a laugh nonetheless. The Bagon lurched over on his seat, finding that a beaming smile had replaced the Girafarig's earlier melancholy.
"You're too kind, Chimera, though you don't have to hold your tongue for my sake. I'm sure my behavior didn't help, but it was the picture that really gave it away, wasn't it?"
The Bagon blinked, needing a second to comprehend that Binair's tone was an invitation, and not a threat. Ever so slowly, Chimera's heart fluttered, until his own two teeth seemed to flash in the sun, a grin taking up his own lips.
"W-Well, I wasn't about to suggest that you were the photographer, sir," Chimera replied. "But… yeah, just give it time, I'm sure she'll come around. At least if that plan you talked about has any merit."
Binair gave a slow nod, dip in his head giving the Bagon a complete view of the facility before them. In many ways, it was a dichotomy to the original guild hall. Like the plain dressing, shyer cousin that would rather hide behind a potted plant during a party than show itself to others, the structure as a whole conveyed a more utilitarian feel. While similar in grandiose size, and adorning the same orange tiled roofs, the whole structure was more of a box than anything. Rigid brick columns took the place of marble pillars. Simple glass windows replaced intricately carved outlines of what he had seen. On the left and right of the row of red bricks making up its frontal wall, the Bagon could see plots of well watered soil, suggesting some sort of garden opposite its northern face.
"Yes, yes, thank you, old chum. You'll be happy to hear that, if everything goes as suggested, it should already be in the works. I can only hope."
Open setting eyes on the structure, the Girafarig's posture perked up. A soft click sounded as the aura-lined gear shift went into park. Binair turned, giving the hood of the vehicle a slight tap of his hoofs upon turning to meet Chimera.
"As much as my actions have suggested, I did not bring you all the way here to mope about my own family life. We have a grander purpose here, old chum, one that will hopefully begin with a few questions: How was the progress of your team's exploration? Were you able to recover the time gear?"
Chimera's muscles tightened immediately at the question. He put up a smile, careful to look directly to the left of the Girafarig, as not to flinch under his gaze. Again, the question arose of what pokemon was more worth betraying, though its answer was only moderately less clear in the Bagon's mind. His eyes closed, a brief image flashing of a familiar, grey charmander, adorned with a device of undiscovered power, stumbling with him side by side through blizzard winds. Upon opening, he shifted on his seat to face forward, setting his gaze on the three, omnipresent letters that lined the very top of the building before him. With bated breath, the Bagon couldn't tell whether his eyes were more comfortable shut or open. He shook his head, turning back to Binair to let out a heavy breath.
"I… no, we didn't. Got really damn close, was even able to recover it from some powerful pokemon, but one our way back from the mountain we ran into some complications."
Binair did not say a word, only a faint furrow of his brow showing any change in his expression. The Girafarig took in a deep breath, letting it exhale through his nose. To his credit, the Bagon only flinched a tiny bit at the gesture. A moment passed where neither knew who was supposed to speak first, leaving Chimera to question whether it was anger or disappointment in his eye.
"What sort of complications?"
Again, Chimera's vocal chords failed. He lowered his gaze, settling it with a slight cringe to the golden badge pinned onto his exploration bag. Were the Bagon's thoughts running any faster, he would have sworn he was back in a cubicle.
"When we were waiting in an icy cavern just outside the extraction point, me, Argon, and Eoin suddenly came across a… pallid. One that seemed dead set on getting out of that cave with the time gear. It stole Eoin's bag and started running off. Me and Cerise tried to chase it, even threw myself off a cliff after it did the same, but by the time we regrouped with Eoin… well, let's just say that the pallid was a bit too smart for us to get it back from. W-We had to get ourselves out of there, would have made our injuries worse if we didn't. I can't apologize enough, Sir. Shouldn't have let the grey bastard out of my sight."
Only the brown seat leather and his own two legs filled Chimera's vision. That, and the gold badge, already within the Bagon's grasp as he began to unbuckle it. Through the exploration, it had lost most of its metallic sheen, now only barely able to reflect his own drooped face. With every second, the question reared its face again, ever probing of whether the color gold or grey was better worth sticking true to. He took a corner of his rain cape in his other hand, finding that one of the corners had been worn to a lighter shade through its use, while the other corner reflected through the badge seemed to have taken a slight rip.
A hoof on the Bagon's shoulder shot him to attention. He jolted up, finding the Girafarig looking toward him with none of the expected scowl.
"A shame, certainly a setback, but nothing to berate oneself over. On the contrary, I still hold quite a bit of pride in you from that exploration."
Chimera did not need to ask why, for his face set it all. Only the burdening sun prevented his eyes from widening further as he repinned the badge to its rightful position.
"You showed grit, old chum, all of your team did. Only gold level for a month, and already you undertook an exploration few other teams would. You climbed a mountain, in blistering weather, for a relic you very well might have doubted was even there, all in loyalty to this organization and a desire to complete your mission. True, trials and tribulations might have stolen your success at the last moment, but in your circumstances I would have done the same. You know what I see there, Chimera?"
The Bagon shook his head, only tentatively able to return Binair's ear to ear grin.
"Potential, old chum. Potential for more, to do more. You need only maintain hard work, dedication, and ambition through the guild, and I can very well see such traits blossoming into a trailblazing career with a steady hand of leadership over others."
Had the Bagon been the Chimera standing atop the icy harbor, he would have snorted. He had heard the pitch many times before; platitudes, half-truths, and promises that sooner meant all nighters than anything approaching purpose. However, in the Girafarig's cocksure stare, he saw something else. Something genuine, something that said that the pokemon before him actually gave a damn. Sure, there wasn't any guarantee that the boulder wasn't destined to roll down the hill again, but nothing the Bagon had seen had steered him clear yet.
"Damn, I-I'll keep it in mind. I don't know what to say."
"Well then, old chum," Binair replied, "save your breath, for there are some things in that building I've been anxious to show you."
Chimera nodded, joining the Girafarig's canter toward the main entrance to the facility. Upon turning back toward their origins, a single thought crossed his mind.
"For an armless giraffe with two heads… you pull off a real nice parallel park."
Binair seemed to walk with a small skip in his step as he led the Bagon through the facility. In most aspects, it was equally as unassuming as its outside. Only the various storerooms of vegetables and grains were of note as they went to the second floor, along with doors to three buildings. Each was marked 'domestication', 'research' and 'analysis'. All blandly labeled, and each guarded by a pair of soldiers held in adjacent barracks. On the former room, Chimera could barely see a large door on the side of its wall, presumably built for ready access by the entourage of carriages moving adjacent to the building.
Upon climbing up the stairs—with some telekinetic assistance from Binair to speed up the process—it was in many ways the same story, in exception to a single door on the end of the hallway, clad with engraved gold carvings and finely carved mahogany that made it the only place in the structure encouraging its own attention.
"And now, Chimera," Binair side, horns liting up as the door handle did likewise, "before I demonstrate the true reason I brought you here, I figured a little history lesson was in order, courtesy of some exhibits in my personal office. Sound agreeable?"
"No problem, Sir," Chimera replied, a slight tilt in his head. "You've-uh… really gone through a lot of trouble for this. Not that I mind, though."
The Girafarig gave a small chuckle, handle clicking softly as the door began to open.
"True, true, though with a pokemon with such potential as yourself, I figured you'd be better off learning this from myself than under other circumstances. Besides, I'm sure after recent events we both could use a respite; all the money in the world, after all, is no substitute for some companionship."
The Bagon's mouth opened to speak, but was left agape as the full room went into focus. Natural sunlight filtered into the spacious room, cutting through thick, fringed shades that gave only the blurriest appearances of the outside patio. Directly in the center of the room was a boxy, tall desk, nigh the size of a dining table. A tinge of Binair's horns surrounded some of the disheveled paper splayed out next to the bowl of fruit placed atop the desk. Eight sheets stood on end, reorganizing themselves like they were held by a tidy, ghostly octopus.
Below the marble floors was a large, circular pattern, well alike to the green and gold pattern omnipresent through the badges, flags, and logos of Faire. Upon reorganizing the papers, Binairs horn again glowed, this time surrounding a brown leather office chair stationed behind the desk. While normal upon first appearance, the Bagon quickly noticed that the bottom end of the chair was significantly longer than normal, giving it the bizarre look of a cross between an office chair and the bed for an especially long rottweiler. Chimera looked toward the chair, then toward the Girafarig at his side; when was the last time Binair had ever sat?
The question was left unanswered as the chair rolled towards Chimera, rattling all the while until it was directly before the Bagon.
"Care to take a seat, old chum? Seems like it will fit your size, would be a waste to let it go unfilled."
The Bagon nodded, setting his crutches on the ample extra space as he clambered on. His last step off the ground was the slightest bit clumsier. From his motion, the chair began to spin in a circle, giving the Bagon only periodic looks at Binair as his own brow furrowed.
"Yeah, 'preciate the consideration. Though sir, would you mind if I ask you something?"
The chair halted, motion stopped by one of Binair's hoofs as he shook his head.
"Thanks. Well, i-if you don't mind me asking, if this is your chair… why does it have a back rest? I mean, you're a girafarig and all, I just don't get why it's necessary."
The Girafarig blinked, pausing as if he himself needed a moment to answer the question.
"Old habits, I suppose. Could never understand how those of my kind sit the way they do. But anyway, onto our little demonstration."
Again, the chair spun from the Girafarig's influence, lurching the Bagon to the side like he was on a roundabout. It stopped upon almost completing a rotation, placing Chimera in plain view of a leftmost mural covering nearly the entirety of the wall.
"A thought provoking sight, isn't it, old chum? If a drab one."
Fine brushstrokes of green, red, yellow, and nearly every color in between blended together in a sweeping landscape. Tall grass and natural, undomesticated trees—more so than the Bagon had ever seen prior upon leaving the beach—dotted the exterior. Thatched roof huts went from the bottom up in two distinct rows, while a squalid dirt path lined the space between them. Merely a dozen or so pokemon of varying sizes dotted the road, each laden with glum expressions and stomachs that told of life where a bale of grain shined as brightly as gold. On the left and right of the two rows of houses, were large fields of tilled soil. While speckled with occasional plots of green, the majority of the field seemed lined with little more than the putrid gray of decaying leaves and plant matter.
"Well, it's not something I've ever seen," Chimera replied. "Money might have been tight where I came from, but you don't ever really see something like that when your main job is plugging numbers into a spreadsheet."
"That was the worst of the years," Binair replied, a slight slump in his step as he made his way next to the mural. "I was still young then, in a manner of speaking, at least. Brimming with energy, and happening upon fellow pokemon that had developed into agriculture only a few years prior. 'The Starving Time' they called it, brought upon by pokemon too civilized to eat any meat other than the trickle of aquatic and avian pallids from East Faire, yet too uncivilized to understand the tonalities of crop rotation, fertilization, or parasitic crop infection."
The Bagon gave a slight nod, scanning over the various features with a hand to his chin. While from a sweeping view, the painting seemed beautiful, further analysis left a chill running up his spine. A monotonous life, one without importance, without variation, where even the various pokemon written in brushstrokes went unnamed. On the very bottom, however, Chimera paused, eyes narrowing. Almost concealed by one of the faded crops was the yellow and brown head of a Girafarig. Infinitely more youthful than the one at his side, yet put to life with an energy again only matched by the smiling Zoroark. Her hand was on his hoof, beckoning him towards lands cut off by the edge of the frame. One second passed, then two, then three, before the memories flashed, and the Bagon's mind clicked.
"S-Sir?"
Binair nodded, gesturing for him to go on.
"When I was with Cerise on the mountain," Chimera said, "she outlined her whole scheme and exactly what she wanted to get out of it… what she had lost. That Zoroark, she was your wife, right? Now she's… my condolences."
His mouth shut, regretting the words before they had even left his tongue. Again, the Girafarig's facade cracked. For a moment, his head drooped, both of them, each staring off into a wall with a glazed over expression somewhere else. Before Chimera could say another word, he rallied, returning him a smile somewhere between past assurance and melancholy.
"Ezra, was her name. Sweet, wonderful Ezra. Firebrand of a 'mon. From her demeanor you'd think she could save the entire world all by herself. Had a knack for legends and lore, too. Was the force that truly fostered my love for the wonderful pokemon of Faire, as well as a driving aspiration for seeing everything that the Eastern region has to offer. I… I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree in that regard."
Chimera tucked in his arms, staring aimlessly to the floor as an especially morbid question pinged through his conscious. His eyes again drifted to the Zoroark, seeing her gaze point to the water and land beyond, as well as the three, pale grey Murkrow circling above.
How?
"She loved them," Binair continued. "Every single one. Every single pokemon of Faire regardless of age, background, or appearance, she threw herself in service of. I remember it being infectious as the years went by, until… until…"
He shook his head, tail giving a slight scowl as his horns glowed, and an orange levitated into Chimera's lap.
"Apologies, apologies. Damn memories catch up to me at the worst times. Care for a snack, old chum? Your team hasn't eaten since the exploration."
As if on cue, a heavy growl from Chimera's stomach corroborated the statement. Without another thought, he began peeling, heedless of any possible blemishes on its surface; why bother when the insides were already so sweet?
"N-No problem, Sir," he replied. "I-uh… know the feeling. People who can be a ray of sunshine to others, even those that don't deserve it are a rare find."
The Girafarig gave a soft 'hmm' in response, taking a few steps past the first frame until he was just in front of the second.
"True, though I prefer it best to keep ambitions on the present, even if that apple did fall far. Why don't we take a look at our second mural? At the very least, those overpaid artists from the institute did their damndest. We should really take a visit there when we have the time, schedule been too busy for an earlier visit?"
Chimera gave a light chuckle, subconsciously reaching for armrests the slightest bit out of reach.
"Well, you see Sir, in my past life, my artistic appreciation was about equal to my talent in it. Unless you want to slather paint onto my forehead and watch me headbutt into a wall for a particularly abstract interpretation of your visage, it's something better dealt by the professionals."
The Bagon nearly jumped out of his seat when Binair's horn glowed, and the handle to a cupboard on the opposite side of the room did likewise. It faded in an instant, leaving only a hint of the paint bottles held within, and Binair's cheeky smirk.
"Maybe some other day. With some dedication, you might even beat some of the drawings Cerise would send me on business trips during her hatching years. You underestimate yourself. Now… as for the painting, a fine improvement, wouldn't you say?
Chimera nodded, giving only a slight huff as he analysed the mural. Brushstroke and format wise, it was similar. Same clear sky. Same faint blotch of green in the distance above a sea of blue. While the layout was identical, the contents couldn't be more different. Where thatched roof had been, brick shingles took their place. Houses were closer together, taller, and infinitely more numerous, stretching out well into where the green had been. Front and center, was an enormous structure that stood out among the rest, adorned with ornate windows, marble pillars, and a courtyard with enough pokemon to easily quadruple the haphazard population of the earlier village.
"Recognize it, old chum? The WFG Guild Hall?"
"Sure do," Chimera replied, a slight plasticity in his smile as he scratched the back of his neck. "As clear in my head as the paperwork you gotta sign there for missions. Not to mention that time I went to check on Argon after having one too many. Not doin' that shit again. Looks, I don't know… newer, I suppose."
Freshly tiled floors took the place of farmland, while a faint trail of smoke billowed in the background. Pokemon stood before the guild hall, in groups of their own each devoted to a different task. A Decidueye and especially well groomed Dugtrio stood in the shade, serenading a crowd of onlookers while another group was in the background, paintbrushes in hand or claw behind a half filled canvas. Sculptures, poets, seemingly every kind of artist seemed in attendance before the guild hall, all the while a pair of psychic types stood in the background levitating metallic joists for the construction of what the Bagon knew would become the Guild Hall's western half. On the very top, the balcony where Binair and Chimera had met previous, stood the same Girafarig. Perhaps a few grayer hairs than normal, but not yet equalling what stood before Chimera. While the Girafarig was still smiling, only a hint of the previous energy was there, seemingly as spent as the Donphan below soothing out rolled concrete with… themselves. His tail seemed to sway, pointed towards the mass of green over the sea as if searching for something that would never come.
"Damn," Chimera said, eyes glazed onto the mantle. "Not too shabby of a sight. How much time did all this take?"
"Well, you see, old chum," Binair replied. "That's the beauty of it. In your previous life, you came from a relatively… advanced civilization, wouldn't you say? How would you describe your time there?"
The Bagon closed his eyes, needing a few moments to even remember that neither the scales that lined his body nor the partner at his side were always his. Ever so slowly, it all started to come back. The putrid grey carpet. The computer that would heat up and freeze so much even then it made him feel a slight urge to jump off a cliff. The claustrophobically tall skyscrapers that served to make him feel smaller everyday.
"In a way, I suppose. Guess it depends on what you call 'advanced'. I can vomit out a finance report from a computer like clockwork, but I wouldn't trade it in the world for what I've seen here."
Binair gave a slight chuckle. In the two faces smiling towards him, was a certain empathy Chimera doubted he'd seen before in the Girafarig.
"Time and hardship are a powerful combination, one that can make us make more of the bad in something than the good. Still, there were facets of your world the pokemon from those murals, or even today would consider miracles, correct? Computers? Modern medicine? Infrastructure and transportation that one can go from one side of the world to the next and still have time for brunch?"
The Bagon bit his lip, for once feeling the claustrophobia of the office fading. Recollections dawned of thin instruments of metal and glass that gave him the world at his fingertips. Where the common cold was that and, even in its deepest drudgery, he always knew where his next meal would come from.
"Yeah, we did… never really gave it too much thought until now. Was something we all just accepted. Even if shit had to be sacrificed for it, it never bothered too many people when the next luxury was a paycheck away."
"And at that," Binair replied, "we appear to have come at a crossroads. When I first entered my world, pokemon were given time to develop magnificent infrastructure and breathtaking culture, yet were too preoccupied with the quest of maintaining food and basic shelter. When you first entered your world, the modern luxuries of technological progress were already apparent, yet at the cost of many drudgery filled positions that endeavoring beings such as yourself had to undertake. A wasteful prospect, wouldn't you say? On both fronts?"
Chimera nodded slowly. His eyes narrowed at the Girafarig's words and tone, yet his mind maintained no readily apparent counter.
"Makes sense. I assume you were the mastermind behind all this then. You can't just snap your hoofs and make railroads and factories appear out of thin air, at least if you're not Jirachi and this isn't some elaborate prank. Question is, if you truly are aiming to replicate my world, you'll be shooting for one where schmucks like me work a hundred hours a week to not end up on the streets. Yet everywhere I've gone there's been this greater sense of… hope, of luxury. What have you done differently? How are you sure it'll even be different?"
Binair simply smiled, motioning the Bagon to his feet, and ambling towards a door leading into the outside patio. Along the way, the Girafarig's horns glowed, this time opening another cabinet to levitate a small device. It was well worn, about the size of a mouse trap, and with a similar design. Two painted, metallic Rampardos figurines sat on opposite ends of its wooden platform, facing each other. The one on the left was particularly well polished, holding in its claws a wooden barrel with a small slot carved into its top. The one on the right, by comparison, was much more worn, and attached to a tensioned lever that would carry it through the air towards the former. Most of the paint seemed to have been chipped off its head and body, leaving only a silvery, grep texture left. Its claws were clasped together, gap between insinuating they were meant to hold something. After a second of thought, the Bagon tilted his head, letting out a slight chuckle; since when had Binair ever been a penny pincher?
"I asked myself the same question, when I was still the naive Girafarig in that earlier mural. Though on the contrary, old chum, I never designed to replicate such a world, my intention was to combine the best aspects of both. In those earlier years, it seemed like an insurmountable task, but with the power of knowledge, and after some… peculiar inspiration through my explorations, I had it all planned out."
Binair's wallet floated into the air, giving only a brief glimpse of the picture inside before a gold coin popped out. It, along with the mechanical Rampardos piggy bank, levitated before Chimera. The coin gave a brief spin on its axis like it had been spun on a table, before placing itself in the gap in the faded Rampardos' arms. Chimera blinked, looking between Binair and the device before returning the Girafarig's smile.
"Givin' me my Christmas bonus this soon, sir? I'm flattered, though it's a little early, don't you think?."
"Some training and experience in leadership," Binair replied, "and there will be far more where this came from. The pokemon of that village were just as curious when they were introduced to the gold of industry. As the bricks were laid, the locomotives built, and the resources collected from mystery dungeons, a part of me feared that I would never live to see the true culmination of the fruits of their labor, nor provide the time and opportunity for the true culture and lifestyle that made Faire the envy of the world."
Binair took a position next to the door, Chimera taking it as a cue to do likewise. From his saddle, the Girafarig's cane levitated, placing its end just under the bottom of the door handle, ready to open at a moments notice.
"So… how did you do it?" Chimera asked. "Whole process in my world took millennium. I-If you don't mind me saying, Sir, it's hard to see how you could pull it all off in twenty years.."
Binair paused, letting out a deep breath as his gaze settled between Chimera, the door, and the two Rampardos facing each other on the toy. His hoofs tapped, smile wavering for a millisecond as the rare yet familiar sign of bated breaths, and his tail looking everywhere in the room but towards them.
"Chimera, old chum, I'm sure you know as well as I do that every rose has its thorns. In building up a world of leisure and consumerism, the tale is no different. As time marches on, and worlds progress, would it be fair to say that there will inevitably be those who are saddled with the burdensome positions? Those who become too inundated with the arduous yet necessary tasks to enjoy the culture that such a civilized world bears?"
The Bagon lowered his head, as if needing a second of contemplation. In truth, however, the answer had popped into his head immediately. It was familiar, after all. The boulder. The monotonous and sometimes dangerous task carried out for hours and hours on end due to having no conceivable alternative.
"Y-Yeah, no doubt. Back where I was from, it seemed like you could find it almost everywhere you went. Somewhere in the world, there was always someone who had to be sacrificed for the grunt work."
"Suffering was an omnipresence," Binair replied, giving a solemn nod. "I'm sure you could probably tell by now, old chum, but I am a historian. Though, in my line of work, study and business usually become intertwined. Through my quest to build up Faire, I searched desperately for a way that the wonderful pokemon that inhabited it could avoid the worst of the necessary drudgery and danger. Upon analysis of nearly every civilization I had knowledge of, however, it seemed unavoidable. Did you know that at the time of that first mural, villagers such as that one required ninety percent of its occupants to devote their time solely to agriculture? To casting away their very ambitions of creating a better future simply to not starve?"
Chimera shook his head, vision settling between the plows and scythes of the first mural, against the chisels, paintbrushes, and screwdrivers of the other. He looked back to Binair, a slight furrow in his brow.
"Can't say I have, sir. Never really gave much thought to it. If you don't mind me clarifying though… what exactly are you getting at?"
"What I am getting at," Binair replied, voice beaming, "is that in my further analysis of Eastern Faire, of the rock and grass around and below this very building that we stand upon, I came across an epiphany that would lift that burden off of Faire's pokemon. The worst of the dangers. The tedious task of agriculture. The greatest of hardships. All allowing its residents to continue the construction of the architecture, industry, and fine arts that marked a region of prosperity, to truly become the arbiters of their own destiny."
Binair drew closer to the door, cane under its handle raising ever so slightly as his voice took on a boisterous tone. Feet straight. Both heads raised high. Had the Girafarig been any more vibrant, all he would be missing was a podium. Though at the very least, he was content with his sole audience. With heavy breaths, he paused, before lowering his gaze from the endless sky over the roof. A second of silence passed, then another, then another until the Girafarig settled. He locked eyes with the Bagon, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips upon finding a quint smile looking back at him.
"Apologies, old chum. I… did not come here to bore you with my rhetoric, either."
"Eh," Chimera replied, "I've seen worse. You've got more energy than any of the presentations I've been to. Makes sense, too. First job I've been in where there's something actually worth fighting for. No need to keep buttering me up though, Sir. That epiphany, it's here, right? Might as well get down to brass tacks and see it."
Binair's eyes closed, a smile slowly taking to his lips as he let out a deep exhale. The toy bank floating before the Bagon lowered, gingerly placing itself in Chimera's arms.
"I… yes. We've delayed long enough in that regard. I simply thought you would be able to achieve your aspirations better if you saw it from me firsthand. Before we do so, however, I would like to propose a simple promise."
Binair approached, watching with a slight grin as the Bagon ran his hands over the device, finding a spring loaded button keeping the grey Rampardos with coin in hands in place. The Bagon looked up, raising his posture the slightest bit upon seeing the Girafarig's hoof raised before him, mimicking the same familiar gesture that had first set him off on his exploration.
"I require no oath of loyalty," Binair continued, "rather, simply that you pursue any career through this guild with an open mind. A willingness to learn. A drive to understand the reasons for why everything works the way it does and avoid hasty conclusions. Today will mark the start of such a venture, in essence. Does this sound agreeable?"
Chimera bit his lip, casting a quick glance between Binair, and the Girafarig-sized chair just a few feet away. In his tour, it had been a strange fit, yet one a part of the Bagon couldn't deny he could get used to; the thing, after all, had plentiful legroom. Without another second of hesitation, he nodded, leaning in to meet Binair's hoof with his hand.
"No doubt. You have my word. I guess… time to start that new beginning?"
Binair nodded, meeting the Bagon's eyes with an appreciation he could scarcely remember on either worlds. A soft click sounded as the cane lifted, letting blinds part and light to flood in from the porch. Another similar ping went through the air as Chimera pressed the button. The spring-loaded, grey Ramparods shot forward across the base plate, depositing its coin safely and efficiently into the barrel.
"Well, old chum, how does it look? Suffering is a blight, but in growing the fruits of progress, what good would come in letting the pith rot in the dirt?"
Chimera did not respond, eyes wide and staring off into the miles upon miles of farmland that stretched into the distance. Roots, berries, seeds, every single food or vegetable imaginable seemed tilled into the soil. Continuous sunlight stretched down onto the fields, reflecting against long, angular lines of barbed wire set around the field's perimeter like a cattleman's fence. High cedar towers dotted each corner, each garrisoned with a pokemon looking downward with the watchfulness of a battement sentry. However, in the grand scheme, their numbers were few, dwarfed by a crowd stationed on the inside of the fields, and watched with a careful eye by the pokemon above. A heaviness filled the Bagon's chest, swirling through his body every which way upon realization.
They were pallids. They worked the fields with plows, hoes and scythes in hand staring down towards either the ground or crops. Glazed over stares suggested they knew little else existed. Chimera turned toward Binair, meeting the Girafarig's eyes with a quiver in his arms, and a slacked jaw in limbo between horror and awe. His eyes shut, a sobering voice telling him that for all of the efficiency of the process, there was another, much greyer pokemon who would see things differently.