Two figures on the back of a glowing steed leap forth from the treeline, bursting from a cloud of snow which follows their every move. In the distance, a bright blue aura emerges on the other side of this clearing, and two bolts of water sling out towards them. Lucario turns towards the shots, locks eyes with the Lizard, and throws his Aura Sphere towards them.
One of two shots hit Whiskey's back. He yelps in pain, and the trio comes collapsing onto the snowy earth, rolling away from each other like logs in a snowy stream. It feels like something is stomping on Lucario's chest as the snow plugs up his mouth and nostrils.
Lucario rolls to a stop as he turns his sights to where the sphere flew. The earth from here to there is perfectly flat, they're on the frozen river Masters had mentioned, and so was their foe. There is a bright blue glow in the distance, not from his aura sense - he lost his focus when he fell on his face - it's the aura sphere.
The light wobbles in place, like something is blocking it from moving. Lucario shakes the snow off his face as he stares the lizard down, holding out the hand which had let loose the Aura Sphere.
A read on Louisa's aura, line of sight, the intent to strike the target. He has everything - why did Aura Sphere stop?
Two loud cracks ring across the frozen river, and the Aura Sphere is reduced to sparkling ashes by the Inteleon's shots. He stands behind it, completely unharmed, holding something in his off hand. A badge?
Lucario looks around in a hurry. Whiskey is still on his side, slowly kicking away, and Masters is there with his body flat against the snow. The fire on the phantom's back are pitiful embers.
" 'M!" Lucario calls out to him, trying to keep his voice hush over the wind. "Did you see that? Aura Sphere didn't work!"
"What?" he asks, muffled. "I'm not a Lucario, I can't help you there-"
"I told you how it works! I had him right in my sights!" Lucario snaps back, the sweat trailing down his forehead freezing into tiny droplets. "I shot out the sphere and it didn't work! It's like he stopped it mid air!"
"What about the two shots? He could just be a crack shot, Lucario, just look at how far he's got on us!" Masters and Lucario peer over the distance where an Inteleon is standing like a tower watching their every move. "He knows we have nowhere to go, 'Luc. We are right where he wants us to be. He could've shot it down."
There was nowhere else to go. This whole river is a hunting ground for anyone with marksman skills. They need to get back to the woods, to cover. If they stay here for too long they're basically doomed.
And what about Whiskey? The Inteleon knows he is swift, and he has put him down first and foremost, leaving the two explorers as sitting Psysduck staring down their fate. Lucario turns to Whiskey. The horse is still kicking.
"Whiskey." Lucario says. "Can you sit still, play dead for us? He only wants you because you're our ticket out of here, so if you stay low he's not gonna do you in! He's looking for us, not you!"
"Sire!" The horse grunts. "The floor is frigid. My bones ache, not just from the wound! I can't stay for long!"
Lucario turns back to the Inteleon, keeping his eyes on their distant adversary as he reaches blindly around his pack, letting the lighter of the two bottles roll free.
"Just take the Aspear." He says, whipping it towards Whiskey with his tail. "Drink if it gets too cold. Don't you go anywhere!"
"And what of you, Sire Lucario?" Whiskey spins around in place, grabbing the bottle with his mouth. His haughty voice gets muffled. "You're wounded, you're in no position to quarrel either. Might I suggest surrender?"
"No, he wants something of ours and I am not giving it up again." Lucario keeps his sight on the Inteleon, watching his every move. "It's our fight, if you get seriously hurt we'll freeze over before we make it back to Lapis Town."
"But you are foolish, sire."
Whiskey drops the bottle out of his mouth, inching towards Lucario with every kick on the snow. Before he gets a chance to question the horse, a bright flash of pink light shines behind Lucario. The warmth lingers in the air like a summer's breeze, entering into his lungs, and clinging to his bones. In an instant, the pain inside Lucario's chest fades away. The small welt where the bolt hit vanishes. It is as though he had never been wounded in the first place.
Looking over his shoulder, Whiskey smiles back at him. A glow radiates from his horn.
"A fool barges into battle wounded. Thou'rt no longer a fool." Whiskey lowers his head, coiling his neck around the bottle. "This is your battle, and I shall no longer intrude."
"What did you do?" Lucario pats his missing wound.
"I performed a prayer to the great Light: Heal Pulse." Whiskey answers. "I can mend the wounds of my rider and his fellows, but I cannot heal myself. I possess other abilities, however I shall not interfere with your bout any more than I have. This battle is yours to resolve, Sire."
If he were to keep on healing him, yeah, Louisa would be forced to put the horsie down and they would turn into ice statues out here. Lucario turns back around. Louisa hasn't moved, but Masters has, standing up next to him with his hands on his lanterns, both glowing with spectral fire.
"Let's not keep this Louisa person waiting." Master speaks. "My flames are getting cold, they're itching for a fight."
"You sure?" Lucario speaks up.
"No one's gonna shoot us unless they want what we want. I'm not letting him get away with this." Masters steps forwards, the Lizard in the distance folds his arms. "You there! Is Louisa your name?"
The Inteleon chuckles from afar.
"Indeed it is, Louisa is my name. I am a hunter of treasured relics." He keeps one hand on his needle-thin hips, the other sits by his chest, finger pointed to the snow like a sword in its sheath. "It has come to my attention Lucario here knows more about the gears than he lets on, and may or may not be in possession of one as we speak. It was never my intent to hunt him down, but fates drew us together tonight."
Louisa brings out a badge from his little mantle. Lucario can't see it from here, and so steps forward along with Masters, until the familiar shape comes into view. Two wings, a diamond in the centre. This one is an emerald green, identical to Whiskey's in every way but its colour.
It's clearly from the same guild, the same other world Whiskey supposedly arrived from. Torchbearers, right? Did Louisa have to put someone six feet under for this badge? How did he get his claws on it?
"These badges are worn by people from a different world." Louisa stows the stolen trinket away. "If you recall, you had lost your Time Gear to Halcion of the Sundown Guild. She would lose it shortly thereafter, to a being from another world bearing this same emblem."
"This badge has the ability to locate others within its guild. Said guild would use these so they would never lose each other when invading other realms. I took mine from Xatu - so I could hunt the very person who took the gear from Halcion."
"Unfortunately for you, she was there when I had retrieved the gear, and warned me you might be searching for these little things once more. She said you were persistent. It's an admirable quality to have, but I'm afraid it will be your undoing."
Louisa raises his finger, a glowing light forming just at the edge of it. He locks his eyes with Lucario, and the lanterns on Master's waist rattle in anticipation.
"If you're in possession of those gears, kindly leave them at your feet. I cannot have anyone the likes of a Criminal wielding such power. It is a matter of temporal safety for the world, surely you would both understand."
There it comes again, his past bubbling up like bile. What did Halcion say? He was a pitiful mook working for the Krows. He is not some maniacal mastermind, just someone who does jobs for money. He is no different from all these explorers, yet here is one breathing down his back as if he were the scum of the earth. It's exhausting, but being in possession of a gear leaves Lucario with no recorse.
Before he can bellow out something stupid, Masters lays a hand on Lucario's chest, and steps out instead of him. He reaches down into his neck, pulling out his time gear.
"I'm the one you want, Lucario's some fellow I hired off the streets because he was in desperate need of money." For someone who vehemently hates lying, Masters has been consistently good at it. His voice is full of an explorer's pride. "I plan on turning this one into the Krows, a hundred thousand is a hundred thousand, no matter which way you cut it. My friend here's getting fourty, and I'm getting the rest."
Louisa's stern look of disgust slowly turns to Masters along with his finger. The energy in the Inteleon's hand flickers.
"You're going to sell them?"
"There's a bounty you know, who wouldn't sell them?" Masters takes a step forwards, putting himself in between the pair. His hands remain on the lanterns, gripping them and the gear tightly. "You see, my friend here has been wanting to leave his life of crime since forever, but he can't just run off. He has some debts owed. Unless I turn them in, there's no way he's gonna ever be able to pay for them."
"So you're giving up a time gear, a temporal artefact - an object of power, just so your friend can pay off some debt?" Louisa is flabbergasted. "Are you so dense?"
"I had no idea these were so important." Masters once again flashes the gear. "I just thought they were these expensive trinkets you see, obviously they are important enough to warrant a bounty, but I didn't think they were that important."
"They are." Louisa doesn't flinch. He begins to step closer, finger trained on the fire type, ready to shoot right through him with a flurry of aquatic bullets. "I shouldn't have this, neither should you or your friend. I don't want to use them and I don't want to sell them either, they don't belong to us."
Masters cocks his head to the side.
"You shouldn't have this? What, do you have one?"
Louisa takes a big step forwards in response. He has one. The unexplained thing from earlier has got to be his ability. They now know what they're dealing with: another gear user - just like Honchkrow. Unlike Honchkrow, the Lizard might know what he is doing with his.. Lucario looks at Masters, who is smiling. Is he trying to get them shot?
"Drop it." Louisa says, stepping no further, his finger trained right between Masters' eyes.
Masters shrugs dramatically.
"If you say so."
The rattling of two cages overwhelms the sound of the gear dropping. Two purple flares shoot out: one at the floor beneath them and the other directly at Louisa. Anticipating this, Louisa reaches underneath his cowl. There is a flash of orange.
Color, light; everything resembling the flow of time is sucked into the gear in his hand. All short of living, breathing creatures are stopped in this monochromatic landscape. The snow falling hangs in place, both of Masters' fires freeze in time.
The Inteleon fires off a shot at the parade heading his way, dispersing it into a shower.. He sprints away, making a wide berth, but keeping his fingers trained on the Typhlosion. Masters, stunned by what's happened, looks straight down at the gear and fireball he dropped - both are a foot off the ground.
Crack!
Lucario throws himself towards Masters, punting the fireball into the floor, and grabbing the gear. His weight sends them down as a Snipe Shot narrowly passes over. A loud hissing sound ripples out from where Lucario stood. The snow melts around them, creating a veil of pitch white mist. Masters, shaken by this ordeal, stares blankly at Lucario pinning him down.
"Well, guess we know for sure." He chuckles nervously, trying to keep his voice down. "I think he bought it, but whatever he's doing with his gear, it's a lot worse than Honch."
"You weren't the one who got aged." Lucario pulls off of him, keeping a low profile as the mist billows all around. "You have Smokescreen, right? You said that was your fourth?"
"Yes it is. Louisa is ranged. As long as he can't see us we're okay." Masters crawls up onto his feet, looking at where his fire landed near his feet. Everything other than the thick layer of ice has been melted away. "I'd keep our voices down, though. Don't want him listening in."
Lucario stares through the fog, his ears twitching. He hears the crunching of footsteps far into the white cloud, but can't see a thing. He's probably run to a vantage point, the wretch.
"Okay, so he has a gear, right?" Lucario murmurs. "Then it's easy. We find out what his gear does - then we either beat the snot out of him or we run away. I think you know which of those two I prefer."
"Of course I do!" Masters remarks with a grin. "At least you're open to options. If we can knock him out that's another gear for us, but defeating him isn't my goal: I think getting us out of here scott-free's more important than us beating this man to an inch of his life for his gear."
Lucario keeps an eye on the fog around him, it's thinning, slowly but surely. Lucario taps Masters on his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, then spews out a crackling, purple smoke. Smokescreen engulfs the two, buying them a couple more seconds.
"I'd beg to differ but you're obviously the smarter of us two." Lucario groans. "Assuming he can block everything we shoot at him, what's your plan for taking him down?"
"Closing the distance, getting him, and beating him." Masters strokes his chin. "If he had the ability to freeze us we'd be done for, but if he can only freeze some things in time, we absolutely stand a chance."
"You're gonna smokescreen, and get me in there" Lucario finishes the thought, summoning up a femur-shaped club. "If I can get to him, I'll club his dumb head in with a bone rush, how does that sound?"
Masters takes in another breath, spitting out a wispy flame into his open hand. He nods at Lucario.
"You look ready. Are you really?"
Lucario stares out into the smoke, seeing a thin figure behind the veil.. He grips his bone club tightly, glaring at his foe.
"Ready."
He bursts out of the purple shroud as it disperses. Club in hand, he readies to swing at the figure only to find someone else standing there: an ice type with a shining claw raised above her hatted head.
As he swings, she swipes down. A shot rings out from afar, shattering his club into glowing blue chunks. The Sneasel unleashes her claws.
He powers through her slashes with his steel-typing, throwing bullet punches wildly. He hears a crunch as one of them connects into her icy body. She screams. A second shot rings from afar. He goes in for another punch, and a Snipe Shot greets him square in the chest.
Lucario crumbles, the Sneasel Scurries off. Masters covers him with a plume of smoke and they have made no progress whatsoever. The Typhlosion's faintly glowing eyes assess Lucario's damage.
"Not nearly as bad as last time." Masters looks him over. "No bruising."
"Not nearly? You try getting shot, see how you like it!" Lucario wriggles away from him, standing up. "There's a Sneasel out there, would've had her if mister Lizard didn't shoot me.. I don't think I can take a third one of these"
"He's got a partner." Masters doesn't seem phased by this revelation. "You and I have the advantage over the Ice-Type; it's that Louisa fellow we have to worry about. Any idea where he is?"
"None, he did this same thing last time." Lucario's ears twitch, peeled for the sound of footsteps past the smoke. "The Sneasel is probably his eyes. He's a water-type, I don't think he's got as good eyes as say a ghost or a dark-type like her. We put her down, he's blind, and we maybe stand a chance."
"What makes you say that, other than her typing?"
"She's up in our faces, and she had one of her shiny claws overhead, I don't have the time to explain myself 'M." The purple smoke begins to thin. He gets to watch his safety fade away before his eyes as he spins up an Aura Sphere. "I'm gonna get her with an Aura Sphere, and make a break for it, you?"
"That's a bad idea, first of all, but I'm gonna try to throw one of these at our sniper friend." Masters holds up a wobbly ball of flame. "My Infernal Parade seeks life relentlessly, if I can throw them in the direction of Louisa they'll flush him out of hiding. They won't hit, but they'll expose him, and that'll be our chance."
"Chance to what?" Lucario spits.
There is no time for him to answer, when the smoke clears, there's no one in sight. The two pokemon stand with moves in their hand, waiting for the inevitable to happen. A second passes, the snowy wasteland around them is as still as death. The wind howls across the emptiness. Lucario looks around.
They're standing there, two glowing spheres in their hands. Masters realizes what's happening before Lucario, and shoves his body into him, letting the parade run loose from his fingertips - seeking life as two distant shots fire - one missing them and the other hitting firm onto the fire-type's side. Masters lets out a horrid sound, and smoke gushes out of him like ichor.
Another Snipe Shot fires. Lucario shields Masters just in the nick of time, and a cold, icy bolt rips across his back. The fourth shot grazes Lucario's hat, spewing snow into his face. He grips onto Masters for dear life as another smokescreen forms.
Both pokemon hear a sizzling explosion. The ghostly flames hit someone back there or were stopped at the last moment. Either the Inteleon or Sneasel - it's impossible to tell at this far away. Masters shakes Lucario off.
"Go!" he shouts. "Don't waste this opportunity! Get in there!"
Lucario sprints out of the cloud without a second thought. He sees it: a section of the surrounding forest is now engulfed by ghastly flames. He sprints across the river, blazing a trail of snow behind him. There's a cracking sound. Lucario throws himself down.
Then there's another cracking sound, then another. By the time he realizes he is not being pelted by bullets it is too late. The ice below him cracks open. A hand reaches up for his legs, pulling him down into his icy grave. Lucario looks at his assailant.
It's the Sneasel. There are three claw marks on her nape bubbling with water-type energy, and her claws webbed like a fish's fins. She can breathe, he cannot. She is going to drown him!
He swings wildly. Trying to move through in the ice cold water feels like wading through icy sludge. The more he thrashes, the more he weakens. She is able to overpower him like nothing, and the Sneasel constricts her slimy claws around his neck.
He can't move, his arms are too weak to shake her off, and what's worse: she starts talking.
"It's better for you if you stop squirming!"
A familiar, paralyzing sensation enters his metallic bones. With what strength remains, he reaches up for his shoulder. His hands touch a metal object.
"I hate doing this, you-" She cuts herself off, grabbing Lucario's hand. "What you got here, eh? Trying to trick me? Trying…to…"
Her voice is slowing, deepening. It takes watching her claws wilt before her eyes to realize what is happening. By then, Lucario is able to brute force out her grip with an elbow. He powers through her rubbery claws with a flurry. The steel-type Bullet Punches don't have the effectiveness they should, yet each successful strike pushes her further and further towards the sooty riverbed.
She lands, crumbling onto the soft earth in an instant. The Sneasel goes to stand but falls apart. Her legs have become too big for her. The skin sags off her brittle bones as she lies there, trapped in an icy prison - too weak to swim out.
Lucario looks up. The light from whence he fell shining down on his face. He shuts his eyes, feeling two auras: the empty glow of a ghost-type and a particular blue friend.
It took a second of Lucario running across the frozen landscape for him to disappear, gone, sunken below the river. It could've been a rogue water-type, could've been anything really. Thinking about the what, the why, and if he's deserved it isn't going to do anything other than let despair set in. Masters can still fight, just ignore the fact a single shot will absolutely do him in.
If he is a master of one thing: it is his super secret ability of bottling everything up for later. He'll put the fact he is in a bad position and save for later when he is sane enough to confront what just happened. Like in life it's always important to look on the bright side of things; his ride's fine, albeit only a little bit injured; Lucario's a fighting type with plenty of resistance to the freezing cold, so maybe he can last longer than most swimming; he himself is not entirely unconscious just yet.
And being unconscious is not fun - more so the dreams. Chock it up to being an undead creature, he never gets decent sleep. He cannot win a fight by going in like a brute, he has to think this through in his own weird ways. Though his cards are few, a hand is a hand.
Masters stands, his side still hurting like a thousand Beedril stings. He takes a look at his icy surroundings, which save for the hallmarks of a fire in the distance, nothing has changed. The snow falls; winds blow.
His lanterns are out, he has not had the chance to properly replenish them since he dropped the gear. Which, speaking of, is still safely within his possession - thank goodness.
Keeping his eyes peeled on his snowy surroundings, Masters spits a glob of fire into his hand and holds it out-
Crack!
A Snipe Shot explodes the fireball. Sparks fall off his visage like harmless raindrops, and he looks towards the shot, seeing nothing but the vast empty snowscape.
"You're done." The voice of the Inteleon echoes. "Surrender. Give the gear to me, and I will rescue your friend from the depths below."
"Other than saving my friend, why should I?" Masters calls back. "Do you have any idea what these things do?"
"Of course I do, everyone knows of the tragedy which happened on the Grass Continent." The footsteps get closer. "I can't let us repeat the mistakes of our past. There is only one person I trust with these, and even then, I can understand why you would be hesitant to surrender your gear. You don't have much choice here."
"Don't you wanna use 'em?" The facade is dropping, Masters can't care to put it back on. "Why should I give my gear to you, what makes you special?"
"I don't want to use them. I just want to keep them out of the hands of criminal scum." Though he cannot see them, he can feel the Inteleon's finger on him, waiting. "I don't care what history you have with this Lucario, but he is a criminal, and I can't let that Gear be anywhere near him. I thought an explorer would understand."
"I do. I understand plenty. The last time a criminal scooped the gears up, time itself was threatening to crumble apart. I get it, I'd be scared to let anyone have these too."
The snow falls slowly around him, hiding the moonlight with a thin veil of clouds. He is a ghost-type, a creature of the night, but even he can't see where this lizard is hiding. He has to be close though, the question obviously is where? There is nowhere to hide in this snowy wasteland, and were he under the water, his voice would be muffled by the thick sheet of ice below.
Stall for time, try to get a read for where he is. Masters reminds himself.
"You're not answering me. What makes you the exception?" The Typhlosion calls out. "How can I trust you to not use them for evil or whatever's got you worried?"
"You can't trust me." Louisa affirms. "I'm a person as well, just as vulnerable to temptation as anyone else is. I barely trust myself with mine. I wish I could say the same for all these explorers."
Masters' ears twitch in response. He has a Time Gear, of course he does.
"That's not a good reason."
"I know it isn't."
Louisa is somewhere right in front of him, somewhere between the fiery tree and where Masters stands. Masters squints, racking his brain, focusing on wherever the sound came from. Although this Time Thief may be more charitable than most, he is running his patience thin.
Think. What can he use? Masters pushed his luck with a second parade, so that is out of the question. His dark vision, though impeccable, is not working here. His hearing is giving him direction. How does he narrow it down?
The answer is right in his face the entire time. A little flake falls down on his nose and is sizzled into nothingness. It's snowing everywhere except for one little spot in front of him.
There are the faint muffled sounds of a fellow below. Something is happening under the ice, Masters' time is running out.
"Give me the gear. Criminal or not, I don't want your friend to drown."
How long can a fighting-type hold their breath for? A minute? Several? Come to think of it, why was he worried in the first place? Lucario has something Louisa doesn't know they have. Maybe he is going delusional at this point, ghost-types are all a little funny, because Masters just starts to giggle.
Louisa, rightfully confused, speaks up.
"What's wrong with you?"
Masters smiles at the invisible man.
"You're worrying about the wrong friend."
The ice explodes infront of masters. An Aura Sphere carreens up from the river, ripping through the floor, uppercutting straight into the invisible inteleon's jaw. A familiar sight unfolds as the droplets of water, chunks of ice - everything freezes in time.
A layer of water is pulled off of a figure like a sheet, revealing the Inteleon who had been hiding in plain sight. Water camouflage. Because on top of him sniping them from miles away and being able to stop time, of course he has the ability to become nigh-invisible in snow or rain.
Like Lucario before him, someone grabs the Lizard before he can slither away from the hole. Masters sprints towards him amidst the shock and confusion. Louisa swipes his hand, unleashing a blind Air Slash, but the floating chunks of ice around the hole shield the Typhlosion running towards him.
Seemingly out of options, Louisa dunks into the water before Masters can reach him. Masters stands above the hole and peers down to see Lucario wrestling the water-type, trying to reach for the gear suspended around his elongated neck. Lucario is about to hate him for what he is going to do, but he gets the feeling he wants the gear more than he wants to walk for the next few days.
Masters takes a deep breath, rubs his hands together, and sparks fly from his clenched fists. The glow from his hands shine down into the frozen depths as Louisa and Lucario look up with fear in their eyes.
"Don't! St-"
Masters' fists come down on the water's surface like a drum. Ripple after ripple, crack after crack, the lightning from his fists pulses through the water - surging through every poor creature caught below, including Lucario. Lightning dances over the Inteleon's body as he goes limp. Lucario reaches for him and pulls a gear from under his cravat as the water-type sinks like a stone.
But as Masters watches Lucario swim up, there's not just one gear glowing in the darkness. Louisa takes his one of two to the abyss while Lucario emerges, and Masters reels him up like a fish. His face is white, his fur is fried. He lets out a weak cry.
"There's a second gear!" Lucario wriggles towards the opening. "He had two, we gotta - I gotta…"
"Getting out of here is what we need to do, nevermind the second gear." Masters grabs onto his shoulders, ripping his hands away from the ice. "I can't swim, I hate water. I'm not going to let you do something I can't save you from, you understand?"
"We came here for the gears, that's why you and I are partners!" There's a sudden surge of fervor and youth in the fighting type. He's using the infinite trove of years named Masters to heal himself with his gear. "We have him by the ropes, keep on smacking the water, we can do this! I need that thing!"
"You don't need it. You got your freedom, don't waste it all doing something that's gonna wind up with you gone forever." Masters can feel it. He is inches from screaming at him. "We came here with two gears, left with three, that's one more gear than we didn't have earlier. We're leaving while we're ahead, I'm not losing you to a gamble."
Lucario manages to squirm away from him and runs all of a few meters before crumbling on his own legs. He folds up into a shivering ball. He can barely keep his mouth open to let out these pained, pathetic sounds. Lucario was just in ice-cold water. No matter how resilient he is, he is just not built for it. Nevermind the gears, he needs shelter fast.
Masters grabs onto his shoulders, lugging around this dead weight of a Lucario to the Rapidash waiting for them. Whiskey, still not a name he's used to, peeks his head up in surprise.
"Sire, were you successful?" He asks, his mane glows with delight.
"A little too successful, Whiskey." Masters hoists the Sire in question over his shoulder. "Help me get him on your back, we need to get him to shelter fast! Are you okay to run?"
Whiskey squats down, and allows the waterlogged Lucario to be lugged onto his Back. Masters saddles up, keeping Lucario close as their steed takes off without further ado. Once after he's sprint well enough away from the dreadful river into the safety of the trees, their ride slows down enough to begin speaking instead of panting.
"Will my sire survive?" The Horse glances over at them. "He seems terribly wounded. I can heal him if you wish."
"It's not something you can just heal off because if it were, he'd be back in the water and I'd have no way of stopping him." Masters chuckles, the ridiculousness of this whole situation is starting to get under his skin. "He's going to be fine, he just needs somewhere which isn't out here in the cold. I can keep him breathing with my flames until then. How about you?"
"More than fine! That brew put some pep into my hooves!" He bellows joyously. "Not a particular flavor I enjoy, but potions aren't meant to be enjoyed per say. I feel fine, warm like a mother's embrace."
Mentions of a potion makes him laugh, of course this odd fellow would call wine potions - this weird explorer is a one person show. Maybe he should not be laughing at someone who takes their mannerisms deadly serious, so serious as to refuse to call Lucario anything other than sire, but there is a little bit of joy to be taken in his archaic ways. Helps him ignore the fact his partner, Lucario, is barely alive.
"Potions? They have potions where you are from?" Masters leans in, his warm chest blanketing Lucario. "Everything is wine here. Berries all have healing effects, so if you squash them down into wine, you can make them real strong. Iapapa is my favorite. It's not for the faint of heart, it'll floor you if you're not a fan of sour stuff."
"Oh I could imagine. Indeed we have potions whence I came. Potions were indeed made in the same ways as your brews, our wines were lighter, yours is close to what those concoctions tasted like. I would gladly regale you with stories of my world but as if you'll recall - my memory is a great and terrible fog." He once again peeks over, steering them out of the way of a giant collapsed tree. "Do you think that is intentional, my Amnesia?"
"That's a question you should save for Lapras, not me. I don't know enough about the Sea and it's best if we keep things that way." Masters reaches for Lucario's hand, prying the gear away from his cold, half-conscious fingers. There is a chain attached to it, and he dons it just like his other, safely hiding it under his cowl. "I think these gears have a part to play with the Sea, I don't know. That's a question future me can tackle."
"Ah yes, the gears. You've kept on mentioning them since we met, and I assume you were attacked for carrying them? What are these gears of yours, if I may ask?"
"They're called Time Gears. There's two sets, one controls time, the other distorts it. We're looking for the Black Time Gears, and by collecting them, you can supposedly do something beyond time and space. Like a wish." He holds the cold metal close to his chest. "There's this crazy bounty on them right now, and people are losing their minds trying to claim it. The guy we fought wasn't looking to get the bounty, and those are the guys we gotta worry about. I call the crazies Time Thieves in my head, helps differentiate the two."
"That's quite the title, one I'll truly remember. Where did you come up with such a name?"
Here it comes, an awful, mournful feeling. He should have expected it would veer its face once the words "Time Thief" slipped out of his mouth.
Masters glances at the fighting-type, his body barely clinging to the Rapidash and his own life. Was he conscious? Can he even hear them? It's impossible to tell, and the cold has frozen his eyelids shut. It is not too late for him. Focus on the now, keep the past where it belongs. Lucario is one thief he can actually save.
"You remember how I said there were two sets? Someone tried stealing the other set, and got labeled the Time Thief." Masters explains, his voice as dry as sand. "We're stealing other gears, it fits."
This seems to satisfy the horse as he grows quiet. All they hear is the crunching of his hooves on the snow, the wind in his ears, and the queasy breath of Lucario near his lap. Three gears, three gears down out of however many. Just getting to where they are now would have taken years off his life if he was still mortal. Masters will not find rest on the Dusk Continent, not while this hunt is on. And Lucario, who knows how long it will take for him to be in fighting shape once more?
There is somewhere he could go, a hidden place few souls have even heard of, yet alone travelled. If he wants answers about the sea, he knows who he can rely on. If he wants to be in hiding, he knows where to go. If for whatever reason he wants those other Time Gears, he knows where he can find them. If the gears are not in the land above the world, then they are in the safe possession of people who would remember his face.
He would be pushing his luck some by asking for another ride so early. Unlike Lucario, his naval friend was built for the iciest of waters. He can take them there, cold season or not. It's just a matter of if he wants to play this card so soon.
They have no leads after this save for hunting Louisa or another explorer down, both times they nearly lost their lives. They can rest now because they are ahead of the game, and holding onto three of these puts the completion of the full set on hold. There are people out there, people who know him, who spend their entire lives focused on time and distortions. Maybe he can ask them a favor or…
The more he thinks of it, the more he convinces himself. With a stern, defeated sigh. Masters taps the horse on the back of its head, and Whiskey looks to him, eyes glittering in the darkness.
"Whiskey." Masters clears his throat. "You've only been awake for less than a day, are you okay with taking a sudden vacation?"
"Vacation? Why most certainly, my heart has been frozen for too long. It yearns for the warmth of my fellows and adventure." Whiskey nods eagerly. "I entrust you and my sire with my reins, you may take me wherever you choose."
"It's - it's not about whether we want to drag you along, take us out of the picture. Do you want a break or do you not?" He leans in as close as he can without smothering Lucario in his fur. "Remember what I said about a friend who can help you with your Amnesia? Well, they're the ones who will be taking us there. You will have a whole day out on the Sea to talk his ears off."
"Wonderful, but you mustn't concern yourself with my troubles. I serve you and-"
Masters, at this point, lightly slaps the horse on the side of his cheek. He looks utterly astonished, not angry or frustrated, he just has the look a hatchling does when they ask something rather silly.
"Yes, friend of my Sire! I, of my own volition, agree to vacation!" He nods along. "Lead the way to the landing and I shall carry you until the sea stops me in its tracks!"
A bit overdramatic, as per usual. The point is made clear. He has two votes on vacation. No matter what Lucario says when he wakes up he is outmatched. He is going to make sure this thief gets all the care he needs or so help them all.
The feeling looming over him is replaced by an odd warmth, a hopeful sensation that keeps his ghostly flames burning brightly. Guided by a waterlogged map, their steed carries the two to safety. Eventually, they leave the evergreens of Jade Forest, making it to another swathe of open, snow-covered landscape. This time, there are no Inteleon or Time Thieves to stop them on their ride towards safety.
Although his flames are not the blazing fire they once were, they are enough to ward off the elements for however long. Soon, amidst a night which never seems to end, they spot the distant blue glow of a town lying in the tundra. Glowing windows, cozy bungalows, safety is in sight.
And come morning, or however long it will take for his friend to be well, they will make for the nearest port and cross The Sea of Time.
/ Expect some impromptu non-linear storytelling in the future. Plans changed with some of the story structure.