Of a Dragon's Bond
Chapter IV
"What did you have in mind? A short, blunt human pyramid?"

World of white once more laid before Ash Ketchum.

He lifted his head, trying to make sense of his surroundings. In front of him stood a man – a silhouette of one, Ash thought. The world was perfectly bright white, so why was it that he was unable to see the man's face? Or the whole body, in retrospect. Having experienced many strange things while he was unconscious, however, this turn of events did little to surprise Ash. Just another meaningless time where I've been pulled into the Ethereal.

"Events must play themselves out to aesthetic, moral and logical conclusion." The figure stated.

Ash eyed the figure curiously. First Dalmatian, now this? He inwardly cursed. "…And what would that conclusion be, in this case?" the young man asked.

"It never varies – we aim at the point where everyone who is marked for death dies."

"Marked?"

"Between "just desserts" and "tragic irony" we are given quite a large scope for our particular talent. Generally speaking, things have gone about as far as they can possibly go, when things have gotten about as bad as they can reasonably get."

"That seems hardly fair," Ash muttered. And absurdly complex. "Who decides?"

"Decides? It is written."

"Pre-determinism, is it? 'tis certainly something I do not adhere, unfortunately."

"We are tragedians, you see? We follow directions. There is no choice involved. The bad end unhappily, the good, unluckily. That is what tragedy means." The figure then lifted an arm and pointed at Ash's right hand. "You are no exception."

Ash looked at his right hand and saw the marking that appeared during his fight with Dalmatian. "'XX'…? Why would such letters be imprinted on my hand?"

He then felt a strong burning sensation, the letters constantly changing. XX, XLI, LVI, LXV, and finally settling back on XX.

"It would seem that you are a random variable. The first, to boast. One can only hope that 'tis a good thing."

"Then hopeful I've become," Ash commented, clutching his hand, still in pain. "Tell me, what do these letters represent? What do they mean?"

"The answer," the figure said as it turned around, walking into the endless white. "Is not present."

"Igarashi, Zen. Twenty-four years old, blood type O. One hundred and seventy-nine centimeters tall, weighing sixty-eight kilograms. Hair colour is dirty blonde, eyes gray. Weapon of choice; a single-edged curved long sword-"

"Why are you reading your own profile, Zen?"

"…No reason, really. I'm just bored." Zen promptly replied as he placed the bulk of papers back on the desk next to him. "Should I read yours, brother? It's right here, see – Riley Gen – twenty-six years of age, blood type A-"

Riley snatched the files from Zen and threw it back on the desk. "I think I know myself pretty well, thank you very much. Besides, we don't want to be too loud; we might wake brother up."

"Isn't that why we're here, though? To wake him up?" the Second Knight said, lazily sitting and crossing his legs.

"We're here to wait for him to wake up, brother. Whatever happened in the forest wasn't a small matter." The older Knight corrected as he pulled a chair and sat beside Zen. "Still hard to believe though, the fact that we'd come to find brother unconscious. He's practically unbeatable."

"Uh-huh…" Zen mumbled, staring blankly into space.

"What's wrong? You're quieter than usual."

"It's nothing, really… It's just, we really have a high opinion of our brother, don't we?"

"We wouldn't have become sworn brothers if we didn't, would we?" Riley chuckled and looked at the unconscious person lying on the bed in the room, with a Pikachu sleeping on top. "From the very start he was different. Suddenly brought by the old man for a match – and winning it – the very person we couldn't beat unless we trained for another decade. He was brought into this situation directly after unwillingly pulled into performing 'Separation', yet he didn't back away. Quickly learning the ways of our Order, he changed our system for the better – all that in less than two years. He's become an outstanding Aura Guardian indeed – and a fine leader for the Order. I've had my doubts, of course, but now I can't think of anyone else better suited for the position."

Zen silently nodded along and lightly hit Riley on the back. "Somebody's more talkative than usual today."

"You asked for it." Riley shot back, laughing.

"You're right, though. Can't think of anyone better than him." The Second Knight added, turning his gaze to the unconscious Knight General. "Though I can probably live without his strange manner of speech."

"It is strange, isn't it?" Riley agreed quickly. "He would always reject formal speech directed to him, yet he only talks in that formal tongue. We don't talk like that, do we?"

Zen snorted, waving his hands. "I don't. You, on the other hand – well, not really, I guess."

"That's right, I fall under normal, still."

"You want to try speaking like brother?" Zen suggested, sitting up. "To pass time. The Ball doesn't start for another good four or so hours, right?"

Riley shrugged. "I don't see why not."

"Excellent!" the younger of the two claimed. "I can start. Is any topic fine?"

"That would be satisfactory, yes."

"Alright, here's a possible argument brother would have." Zen started, crossing his arms. "Did you ever think of yourself as actually dead, lying in a box with a lid on it?"

Riley thought for a short while, "No."

Zen coughed to clear his throat. "Nor do I, really. It's silly to be depressed by it. I mean, one thinks of it like being alive in a box. One keeps forgetting to take into account the fact that one is dead, which should make all the difference, shouldn't it? I mean, you'd never know you were in a box, would you? It would be just like you were asleep in a box. Not that I'd like to sleep in a box, mind you. Not without any air. You'd wake up dead for a start, and then where would you be? In a box. That's the bit I don't like, frankly. That's why I don't think of it. Because you'd be helpless, wouldn't you? Stuffed in a box like that. I mean, you'd be in there forever, even taking into account the fact that you're dead. It isn't a pleasant thought. Especially if you're dead, really. Ask yourself, if I asked you straight off, "I'm going to stuff you in this box. Now, would you rather be alive or dead?" naturally, you'd prefer to be alive. Life in a box is better than no life at all, I expect. You'd have a chance, at least. You could lie there thinking, "Well, at least I'm not dead. In a minute somebody is going to bang on the lid, and tell me to come out.""

Riley looked at his sworn brother in surprise. "…You've actually given that a lot of thought, haven't you?"

"…Maybe."

"Didn't you have some more… Constructive things to do?"

Zen shrugged and stretched back. "What did you have in mind? A short, blunt human pyramid?"

"That would be a sight to behold, I would have to admit."

The two Knights immediately turned their heads to the source of the voice in the room. "Brother! You're up!" they said in unison.

"Apologies for the shameful display." Ash muttered, massaging his temples. "Still a bit wobbly… But fine nonetheless."

"We're glad to see that you're okay, brother." Riley said, patting Ash's shoulder. "It was a definite surprise seeing you all shriveled up like that."

"But man, to sacrifice all your aura for that forest," Zen interrupted, leaning on the bed. "You're really something, ya' know that, brother? You could've died if we didn't get there fast enough. Luckily, we sensed your aura getting depleted."

Riley nodded and went back to his chair. "What caused the disturbance in the forest, brother? That was hardly natural."

"It's… Nothing that would endanger the Palace nor the Order, I'm sure." Ash briefly answered.

"How so?" the First Knight asked again.

Ash blinked a few times. "Intuition, I suppose."

"Don't feel like talking about it, huh?" Zen chimed in. "Well, whatever it was, be careful, brother. If, as you say, the Palace or the Order is not its target, then…"

"He's targeting me, huh?" the Knight General muttered, closing his eyes and sighing. "Well, it has little significance on tonight's schedule. I'll take a shower, freshen myself up, probably take a walk around the castle to get some air."

Riley gave an audible sigh. "As restless as always. Just take care you don't hurt yourself, brother."

Ash chuckled, getting off the bed. "Brother, that shouldn't even be a concern."

"Before you go, brother," the oldest of the tree continued. "There's a letter dropped off in front of your door when you were out." Riley handed a black envelope to Ash.

Ash inspected the object. "Strange."

"What is it?" Zen asked, trying to get a glance on the letter.

"This has no sender, only my name written on it. My full name, at that. Title included." Ash explained. "Well, I will certainly give it a read once I've freshened up."

Zen shrugged. "Ball starts in four hours, don't be late."

The young general laughed. "Brother, I do not spend that much time in the shower."

"Pikapi, pika pika!" Pikachu cried happily, rustling Ash's hair.

"Pikachu, I spent half an hour styling my hair. If you mess it up further, you get no dinner." Ash firmly stated, pulling a now sad Pikachu off his head, putting the rodent on his shoulder. "…It won't happen again. I promise, little guy." He continued, petting Pikachu's head, answered by a happy cry.

Having finished his rather lengthy personal preparations for the Royal Ball, the young Knight General wandered around the castle, greeting familiar faces, with many concerns over his health being put forward. Assuring them that his health was perfectly fine, Ash headed over to the courtyard to do his daily activity. Finding his spot close to the fountain, he sat on the grass and took out his equipment; a pen and a piece of paper.

"It would seem that we are close to fully translating the passage Ser Aaron wrote before he passed, Pikachu." Ash said to Pikachu, who hopped off his shoulder to play in the fountain with some of the Palace's Pokemon. "I think I've become fluent in the ancient language. A blessing that I wouldn't have thought of when we were just starting out, right?"

It took the young man another peaceful hour to finish his translation of the old script. Once done, he stood and stretched his back, wiping the sweat off his forehead. He then sat on the edge of the fountain and presented the finished script to Pikachu. "Look, it's done! All that work breaking the Aura Seal on this document will surely be worth it, I'm sure. I do wonder why it was sealed, though."

"Pika, pi, pika?"

"Yes, of course I understand it. The ancient language is quite hard to understand when transliterated – like it is now – but I'm able to reorganize the sentences here and there – 'tis not exactly very hard." Ash answered lightly patting Pikachu's head. Looking back at his newly written script, he glanced over it before reading it aloud to make better sense of it.

"The end of the war is nigh, but so is the conclusion of this humble life, as dictated by the sign imprinted on my flesh. The morrow is the day of the year that I was birthed, so will it be the day of my death. If this meager self could be the martyr for another hundreds years of peace, then so shall it be. As the Nineteenth Aura Knight General of Cameran and the Fifth Knight of Cinder, no greater honor could possibly exist."

Ash chuckled nervously and exchanged glances with Pikachu. "'Tis… Quite dark, isn't it? A dying will…" the young man gulped and continued reading.

"As done by those before I, so shall I leave this message for the next. To Ashton, the Sixth Knight of Cinder and thirty-second Aura Knight General of Cameran; a job well done indeed for solving my seal on this letter. Sixth, heed this well; Thy cause is just, thy cause is just. The time imprinted on your flesh shall arrive unmistakably, 'till then a piece of advice is all I can offer; We, the Knights of Cinder, cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered. Burn it unto your soul and remember; Thy cause is just, thy cause is just. Thine life belongs to Thee and Thee alone."

Ash could feel a bud of sweat trickling down his cheek as he sat motionless. "This… Is impossible." He muttered. "I waved it off as mere coincidences when transliterating it, but how could this be? This is clearly addressed to me."

"Pikapi, pika, pi?"

"Yes I'm sure, Pikachu." Ash answered, regaining his composure. "It says 'Ashton' ri-i-ight here."

Rustling noises, an Aura signature.

The young man nodded to his Pikachu, quickly sending the little rodent to investigate the source of the noise.

"Ah! No!" a womanly voice shrieked.

Ash turned around to see Pikachu sitting on a rather messed blonde hair. "I wouldn't have expected you to be the sort of person that… Snoops around, Miss Shirona."

"Well, I wouldn't have snooped around if I didn't catch you reading that letter by accident, Mister Ketchum." Cynthia replied after putting Pikachu on the ground, attempting to fix her hair afterwards. "It took me forever to do my hair…"

"One would assume so, seeing the abundance." The young man light-heartedly commented. Looking over the woman once more, Ash noticed that she was wearing a traditional eastern wear – a black Furisode Kimono, graced by patterns of white flowers. Keeping his questions to himself, the young man congratulated his Pikachu for a job well done.

The Sinnoh Champion brushed the last few leaves of her shoulder and looked at Ash. "In any case, what do you think it means? That whole metaphor about crossing bridges… Or something along those lines. Are you sure you translated it correctly?"

"I'm quite sure my understanding of the ancient language is better than yours, Miss Shirona, so yes – quite certain 'tis correctly translated after carefully transliterated." Ash answered, placing Ser Aaron's letter in his pocket.

"Cheeky, aren't you? Even more so than when you were little, mister Knight General." Cynthia replied with a chuckle.

Ash sat down on the edges of the fountain, Pikachu occupying his lap shortly after. "If I understood it correctly, then 'tis quite sad."

"Pardon?"

"The metaphor."

"Ah, of course – the bridge metaphor." Cynthia said as she tied her hair up. "How so?"

The young man smirked and looked at the woman. "You might find my explanation to be quite long and boring."

"We've got time, don't we? Still a few hours away from the Royal Ball." She said, also sitting down on the fountain's edge. "Besides, it piqued my interest."

"Very well, then. I'll try to keep it short and simple." Ash sighed, pulling the letter out. "It would seem to me that this 'bridge' is another word for a problem or an obstacle that may or may not happen. So then for the people involved here – that is the Knights of Cinder – the problem will undoubtedly come, and it will be dealt with. However, just as the conflict is solved and the bridge crossed, it was never to be brought up again, as the bridge burns behind us, leaving nothing to show for the progress made. Then all that remains is the memory of it – or experience, rather – or what have you. With nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered."

Silence loomed over the two people, to be broken by the Sinnoh Champion minutes later.

"That's… Quite the fate the Knights of Cinder have in store, isn't it?" she asked, turning to Ash. "And according to the letter, you're one of them?"

The young man simply shrugged, unconcerned. "Then for once I hope I've made a mistake when transliterating the ancient letters. But if it is true, then, well… We cross our bridges when we come to them."

"You're a very laidback person, you know that?" Cynthia said with a giggle. "Are you sure about disclosing all this information to me? I'm an outsider, after all."

"Calling the Queen's baby sister an outsider is something I'd never dare do, Your Highness." Ash said with a smirk.

The blonde quickly turned to Ash and let out a scoff. "Baby sister? I was not that spoiled when I was little – wait, you know about my royal blood?"

"It's only natural, he's the Aura Knight General of Cameran after all." A man said, gaining the attention of both persons in the courtyard.

Ash looked at the man, quickly scanning him. Roughly the same height as him, the man wore a neat black three-piece suit, with long, messy jet-black hair tied in a ponytail. Giving off a strong charisma, the man stared at Ash with his auburn eyes.

"Mister Aylward! I take it you're representing the G-Men?" Cynthia said, shaking hands with the man. "What of Lance's father?"

"Evening, Miss Shirona." The man identified as Aylward greeted without taking his eyes off the young Knight General. "And hello to you too, Ash. It's been a while."

Ash smiled and sighed. "Good evening, father."

"So what's the big news, Aylward? All the people you told to come is here." A man wearing a black tuxedo said, his spiky red hair contrasting.

"In a minute, Lance." Aylward said, arms crossed.

Ash looked at all the people present in the courtyard, the fountain's water filling the silence. Standing across from him were Cynthia Shirona and Clair Blackthorn, the latter wearing a similar Furisode Kimono, albeit different in colour. Beside the two was Lance Blackthorn and his grandfather, Mr. Blackthorn. The young Knight General then took a quick glance at the person beside him, Aylward Ketchum.

Pokémon G-Men's Vice-Chairman.

"Now that we're all here," Aylward started. "I'm afraid it's time to convey the grim news."

"Are you sure I can hear this, Mr. Ketchum?" Clair asked, unsure of her position. "This looks rather serious."

"Me too," Cynthia agreed. "I mean, we don't belong to the Order nor the G-men."

Aylward shook his head. "This relates to you very much, Miss Blackthorn. And Miss Shirona, I believe you will find some relevance to this piece of information I'm about to release as well."

"Then let us cut to the chase, shall we?" Mr. Blackthorn quickly said. "And when is my son coming? He should be with you, no? I can't wait to start drinking with him already."

Ash briefly raised an eyebrow, sensing the uneasy aura emanating from his father.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Blackthorn, that won't be possible." Aylward humbly said. "Your son, Vance, was – has – he is… He is no longer with us. Unfortunately, he was… Taken down."

Silence filled the group's atmosphere once again.

"…What? This must be a joke, right? Dad can't possibly just die like that!" Lance shouted, voice shaking. Seeing as Aylward kept quiet, Lance took a lengthened breath and sighed. He then sat on the fountain, hands folded.

"Uncle Vance really has…?" Clair's question trailed off.

Aylward simply nodded.

"How?" Mr. Blackthorn finally asked, after another few minutes of muteness. "How did he die? He was supposed in the G-Men headquarters all day."

"Yes he was, Mr. Blackthorn. It shames me to say this, but, he was killed in his office, Mr. Blackthorn."

Unable to contain his rage, the Royal Trainer stepped forward and grabbed Aylward by the collar. "What the hell has the G-Men been doing, then?!"

"Whoever killed Vance certainly caught us by surprise, Mr. Blackthorn. I was away when this happened, but according to his guards, three men dressed in all black suddenly appeared and threw throwing knives at him, many piercing vital spots. Similar like how they came, they just disappeared afterwards." Aylward explained, the grip on his collar weakening. "We found a strange letter on him."

"A letter?" Lance shot, looking up.

The G-Men Vice-Chairman nodded and took out a letter from his inner pocket. "Yes, one of my men quickly gave it to me for inspection. It's an ominous thing; no sender, all black in colour. And there were only two things written on it."

"Embrace Death." Ash suddenly interrupted, all heads turning to him. "We've begun."

Aylward turned to his son, confused. "I don't think I've told you that yet."

"I received the same letter." Ash took out the letter he got earlier that day from Riley and gave it to his father. "Men dressed in all black, is it? Then I assume white hair and eastern throwing knives were involved?"

"Yes, that's certainly the case…" Aylward answered, looking over the letter. "And this letter looks to be the same as Vance's."

"It seems that we're dealing with the Shadow Clan here," Ash said as he stretched his body. "Troublesome bunch, they are."

Lance took the letter and read over it himself. "Shadow Clan?"

"I believe some of us here came across them a few years ago during the Plasma fiasco," the young General continued, putting on his gauntlets. "Though the people in question were only runaways from the Clan, naming themselves the Shadow Triad. We are to deal with the whole clan this time, seemingly."

"I remember them," Cynthia added, getting her turn of reading the letter. "Did they merge back with the clan?"

"No, those three would most likely have committed seppuku – a form of… Honorable suicide. Ghetsis was their only reason to live, after all." Ash took the letter from the Sinnoh Champion and ripped it to shreds. "But a thing of the past, all this. "Shadows" in the past, "Shadows" still. They clashed many times with the Order, only to have their sorry hides sent back to wherever they came out from."

"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting," Clair stated. "Shouldn't we be more careful right now? If you received one of those letters, isn't your life in danger?"

"When is it not?" Ash smiled, straying from the group.

An ambush.

A meaningless word to a Ki user, much less to an Aura Guardian.

Being able to sense their enemies from afar really reduced the chances of being caught in a surprise attack. Whatever the situation, they were always ready.

And such was the case for Ash Ketchum. He and his father, Aylward, had noticed the unwelcomed presence of the attackers in the courtyard in the midst of their conversation.

Would it had been a better choice to notify the others about the incoming threat? Quite possibly. There were two Aura adepts in the scene. Either he or his father could have protected the others, while one fend of the attackers. Then this would give a small window for Ash to summon his special unit, the Honor Guards, to come and help protect the civilians. A couple of them were in the vicinity, after all.

But what fun would that be?

Ash Ketchum, the second youngest Aura Knight General of Cameran after Ser Aaron. Growing strangely undefeatable in combat, he missed the thrill of having the odds against him. In this situation, letting the attackers gain the upper hand would surely make for a good skirmish.

He felt his father glare at him, he did. By allowing their enemies to roam free, it would of course increase the danger they were in, especially the three others, who were unable to defend themselves against the Shadow Clan. Even Lance, who was carrying a firearm, would be unable to even get the chance to draw it. During the conversation, Aylward sent out a distress signal with his aura multiple times to call for help. By this time, Ash had assumed that their enemies had no affinity with Aura whatsoever. If they did have it, the signal would have been noticed and they would have attacked right then.

The young General felt his lips curl upwards. What fun would it be if Zen and Riley got here to participate in the fight? It would be over too quickly. No blood rushing moments, no heated exchanges, no fun. So he did something that caused his father to cast another glare at him.

He cancelled out the distress signals.

After Clair's question about the danger to Ash's life, he distanced himself a little from the group, giving the attackers the window to attack.

Logically, it would make sense to attack the person standing alone. But two of the shadows appeared behind Clair and Cynthia.

Smart. Ash thought. But too predictable.

Ash turned around and released the two Aura Spheres he had been preparing, hitting the two targets. The spheres blasted a Shadow to the wall, exploding once it made contact. One managed to evade the Sphere, though he was greeted by Aylward's fist.

Three Shadows then appeared behind him to catch him off guard. Supposedly.

But that too, was predicted by Ash. He side-stepped to dodge a downward sword slash, using the momentum to hit the attacker's head with his elbow. He caught the Shadow's head after and pulled it down for his knee to strike. One Shadow down.

The two remaining Shadows attacked simultaneously with side swings, one high and the other low. Ash held the two off in an angle with his gauntlets. Receiving a swing horizontally could cut through his gauntlets, even if it was made of steel. Ash quickly formed an Aura Sphere in each hand. The balls of energy exploding in contact with the swords, flinching the two opponents. Before they could retreat, Ash grabbed the collar of each Shadow. Once again, he formed an Aura Sphere in each hand, the two exploding in contact, rendering the two unconscious.

Ash turned to see his father finishing a fight with a seemingly higher ranked Shadow. Using a seemingly Aura-formed sword, Aylward finished the battle with a passive, counter-attacking swordplay.

"I wouldn't look away if I were you." A voice said in front of Ash.

Ash slowly turned his head forward to see another Shadow, this one giving off a more ominous Aura than the others. "The leader of this pack, I presume?"

"That would be correct." The Shadow answered.

"Be careful Ash, he's different than the others." Aylward chimed in after making sure the others were safe.

Ash chuckled. "He can be as different as he wants to be, it would not change the fact that he is unable to best me."

"You are too arrogant, young General." The Shadow stated, readying his sword.

"'Tis not arrogance when true, lad." The young man said. "I'd recommend you fight this battle long-ranged."

Without another word, the Shadow charged forward with a sword thrust. The attack evaded easily, the Shadow continued the attack with a side kick, Ash successfully catching the leg.

"I've told you," Ash said, smirking. "Making contact with me is suicide."

Ash concentrated on his palm. Imagine yourself a vacuum and open a path to your reserve.

Effectively performing the Absorption technique, Ash could feel the Shadow's energy filling his body. A second later, the young man stopped the technique in order to let the Shadow live, though unable to move.

"That technique," Aylward started, sounding a little on edge. "What the hell was that? I felt his Aura transfer into you."

Ash felt out the energy that he absorbed slowly integrating with his Aura. He took a deep breath to get used to the sensation. "Absorption, I think it was called. A lost technique, most likely. Like its name, it allows me to absorb the Aura from any source that… Well, contains Aura."

"You could've killed him," the older Ketchum continued. "Aura techniques weren't made for that."

"I'm aware," Ash replied. "That would be why I stopped before he died."

Aylward clicked his tongue. "That's not the point here. What were you thinking, cancelling my distress signals like that? Forget your little ego, you were putting everyone here in danger!"

"That's not exactly the case here, uncle Aylward." a man said from one of the windows facing the courtyard. "He didn't block all of it. So we came here with a couple of the Honor Guards."

Aylward and the others looked up to find Zen leaning on the window, Riley at the next one.

"Brother may have never had a formal Aura training," Riley commented, "But he sure has a knack for it, uncle. Whatever he does is well thought, albeit reckless at times. Well, most of the time."

"All this talk is surely pleasant." Ash interrupted, gaining everyone's attention. "However, I'm sure that Mr. Blackthorn and Lance would like some time to regain their bearings."

Lance agreed, sighing heavily. "I think that'd be best." He simply said as he left the scene with Mr. Blackthorn.

Ash looked around, taking short glances at the unconscious bodies. "So, what to do with these?"

"I'll tell our men to clean up," Zen answered. "The Ball starts soon, brother. You should hurry and report to Sanzou-jii. Uncle, come with Riley, he'll show you where to go."

Aylward turned to Ash. "I suppose we can talk later. I have a quick question, though."

"What is it?"

"Why are they calling me 'uncle'?"

Ash chuckled. "Ask Riley, he'll explain a lot of things."

"Alright then," Aylward said, reluctantly turning after ruffling Ash's hair. "I'll see you later… Son. It's good to see you alive."

"I would have replied sentimentally," the young man muttered, fixing his hair. "If you hadn't ruined my hair."

Watching his father leave, Ash felt himself smiling. Even the stoic old man had difficulties controlling his emotions.

Feeling a pat on his shoulder, his train of thought was disrupted. He turned to see Cynthia, a rather serious look plastered on her face.

"I need to talk to you about something."

A/N: Before any questions come up about the name 'Aylward', I might as well explain where I got the name.

Since in this fic 'Ash' is short for 'Ashton', which came from Old English (meaning 'Dweller at the ash-tree town; from the ash tree'), I figured having his father's name from Old English would be appropriate. And a name starting also with the letter 'A' would be neat. So I looked up some Old English names, and decided on Aylward, which means 'Noble Guardian'.