A/N Thanks so much for all reads, reviews, faves and follows! =D Sorry this is a day late. I was away visiting family, enjoying the company of two playful puppies! =3

53 - Tyrix

Shadows flickered up the walls and shrank away as the orange flames swayed towards Cleo and her friends. Red eyes glared at them, and beneath those eyes a pair of canines glistened. Cleo took a step back and raised her paws. Psychic energy hummed in her ears. Spark crackled beside her with her tail raised. Only Faith didn't look ready to attack.

"Outsiders?" the large pokemon's masculine voice barked. "On my island?" Flames flickered out between his teeth, lighting up his pointed muzzle. "What are you even doing here?"

Cleo's heart raced. A typhlosion? She'd never seen one in person before. He towered over them, his body hunched as his shoulders blazed in a threatening display.

"We were-" Cleo's words cut out as the typhlosion's terrifying glare snapped onto her. She cleared her throat and tried to hide her fear by straightening her posture. "We came here looking for help."

The typhlosion narrowed his eyes, prompting her to elaborate.

"We need a fire-type pokemon to help us," she explained. "We were suggested to try Fire Island."

"So you came here looking for help?" Flames flickered around his fangs and black smoke billowed from the sides of his mouth. "Not enough fire-types on the mainland?"

"It was fire-types who sent us here," said Faith. "We're looking for one fire-type pokemon who can help us to defeat the Wildfires."

The typhlosion jerked his head towards her, his eyes flashing with anger. "The Wildfires?!" Flames trickled from his mouth with each word, and black smoke billowed around him making the flames and his eyes stand out like rubies. "You dare to come here spouting such tomfoolery with that glaring weakness of yours, mawile?!"

Faith didn't flinch back but she clenched her fist at her side, meeting the typhlosion's glare with an unshakable confidence. Cleo could almost hear the air crackling between them, yet Faith didn't back down.

Cleo turned back to the typlosion and grabbed the iron bars. They felt warm beneath her paws. "Look, we're really sorry we came here. If you let us out, we'll leave. You won't see us again."

"No." Faith placed a paw on her shoulder, still looking up at the typhlosion. "He might be the one we're looking for."

The large fire-type looked between the two. The anger in his eyes faltered with confusion.

"This guy?" Spark waved a paw towards him, drawing the typhlosion's glare. "Mister Anger Management here? Really?"

The typhlosion snorted black smoke as a smirk tugged at his lips. "Wait, there's three of you in there? You've got a large mouth for such a tiny rodent."

"Excuse me?!" Electricity crackled around Spark's whiskers and danced up the iron bars.

Cleo yanked her paws back with a hiss. "Spark, cut that out!"

"No." Regardless, Spark reigned in her electricity until only her whiskers crackled with static. "I wanna know what else he's got to say about me."

The typlosion let out a burst of laughter that was cut off by a dry cough. He doubled over, spewing black smoke with each hacking cough. Cleo stood back from the bars, watching helplessly.

Faith released her hold on Cleo's shoulder. "It's just as I thought." She stepped close to the bars. "You're sick."

The typhlosion jerked his head up scattering embers from his muzzle. "Back off!"

"Never!" Faith swiped stray embers from the fur around her face. "We can help you. We have berries."

"I have all the help I need here! I don't need pity from some outsiders like you!"

"Pity?" Faith gasped.

"I think you're lyin'," said Spark. "'Cos all we saw during our trek over this barren island was a bunch of overripe razz berries. And they aren't gonna fix you up, pal."

"Spark," Faith warned with a whisper.

"What?" Spark gestured widely towards the large fire pokemon. "Unless he's growin' berries underground which I doubt-"

"I'll let you out," the typhlosion scoffed, rising. "And I want each one of you off this island by sunfall."

Cleo blinked at the terminology.

"Understood?" he growled.

The trio stood silently, staring up at the typhlosion.

Finally, Cleo nodded once. "We understand."

The typhlosion grunted acknowledgement and tugged a set of keys off his waist. Each movement made him wheeze in the dusty, hot silence. Finally, the bars swung open as a large, iron gate. As they stepped out he glanced up at the hole in the ceiling.

"Should've read the sign," he grumbled. "It said to stay away."

"What, that was a warning?" Spark asked.

The typhlosion nodded. "This half of the island is riddled with sink-holes. That's what happens when pokemon burrow underground. This way."

"And here I thought you were just really hostile or somethin'." Spark waddled after him as he lead them back down the corridor.

Cleo fell into step beside Faith as they followed the typhlosion through the dark corridor. Each step he took was laborious, his large feet slapping on the dry floor. What Cleo had took to be the footsteps of a large, heavy pokemon stomping towards them had turned out to be the lurching gait of a sick, tired typlosion trudging along with what strength he had left in his body.

The tunnel turned sharply upwards in a flight of grey stones pockmarked with air holes. Even during the dampest season they wouldn't be slippery. They were well worn in the middle from countless feet flocking up and down them, and Cleo found herself wondering if what they'd been trapped in wasn't a cell after all. Or if it hadn't been originally.

The typhlosion stopped and gestured towards another small flight of stairs leading to their right. "There. Go through that tunnel and you're out."

Spark squinted to see down it, and was about to voice her concerns when Faith stepped past her. The mawile grabbed the edge of a curtain of ivy and tugged it aside. The typhlosion recoiled with a hiss, and Faith glanced back at him. She gasped, letting go of the ivy as her paws flew to her mouth.

The dwindling rays of the setting sun leaked into the corridor, lighting up their acquaintance for the first time. The typhlosion hunched against the wall, breathing heavily. The fur around his eyes was moist, and his fur was heavily matted and thick with dust. Cleo could count each one of his ribs, and the rope belt he wore hung lose around his jutting hips. Her throat thickened and she fought back tears.

Spark's whiskers drooped as she trailed her eyes over the typhlosion. "When did you last eat somethin'?"

The typhlosion pulled his lips back in a low growl.

"Cut that out!" Cleo snapped. She reached into her satchel and pulled out their rations. "I want you to help yourself. Take as much as you need."

"I already told you I don't need your pity!" he growled.

"It's not pity," Cleo told him. "Consider it a thank you for getting us out."

"Yeah, and take some back to your friends too," said Spark.

The typhlosion's eyes blazed and his back erupted with flames. He opened his mouth in a loud roar that shook the walls. Spark leapt onto Cleo's shoulder, her fur crackling with electricity. The typhlosion's roar cut out with a spluttering cough and he collapsed against the wall. Dirt and dust clung to his fur as he sank down against it, landing in a crumpled heap in the waning light.

Faith dropped to his side and placed a paw on his chest. It rose faintly with ragged breaths. "He's unconscious." She looked up at Cleo. "Can you carry him? We need to get him somewhere comfortable."

Cleo eyed the typhlosion warily. She hadn't ever carried a pokemon much bigger than herself, but there was barely anything to him. "I can try."

Faith stood back as Cleo trapped the typhlosion in a bubble of psychic energy. He rose as easily as if she'd lifted Tinker. Faith moved on ahead of her further down the tunnels. Spark scurried on ahead, using her electricity to light the way. Cleo hadn't noticed the tunnel continued on ahead of them. She followed after her friends, the typhlosion bobbing along just in front of her.

"I don't want to leave him," Faith told Cleo over her shoulder. "Not while he's in such a bad way."

"I'm with you on that one," said Cleo.

"It's just such a shame," said Spark. "He's got too much pride to accept any help from 'outsiders', and it's lead to this." She swallowed as her voice wavered. "It makes me want to cry."

Faith mumbled an agreement.

"We'll get him somewhere safe," said Cleo. "There has to be a nest room somewhere in this place. Then we'll ask Reshiram if he can find some food." She grimaced as her gaze wandered over the typhlosion's ragged body. "I don't think I've got enough sitrus berries to help him."

...

Flames swept through the village with the sound of snapping wood. Pokemon fled, screaming, as the dark, lithe shapes of the Wildfires chased after them. Those that were unfortunate enough to get caught in their jaws were tossed behind the houndour, back into the flames. The dogs left them behind, spewing fire over anything that wasn't yet burning.

Howlinger towered over the cowering sandshrew. Mud splattered the houndoom's fur from the ground-type's feeble attempt to subdue him. Howlinger's canines glinted orange in the flickering flames beneath a pair of glowing red eyes.

"Where are they?!" the houndoom barked.

"I t-told you! I don't know who you're looking for!" The sandshrew peeked up at the leering hound.

Howlinger lowered his muzzle until it was a mere whisker from the sandshrew's face. The rodent flinched back, screwing his eyes shut.

"A meowstic," Howlinger purred, "and a whimsicott. Perhaps dragging an unusual zorua with them? No? Not ringing any bells?"

The sandshrew shook his head sharply. "No. No, I've not seen them!"

"Well they work for you Outcasts!" Howlinger spat.

"Please!" the sandshrew begged, a sob choking his words. "I don't know them! I honestly don't! None of us do. Please! Just let us go!"

Howlinger raised his head back as a low growl vibrated in his throat. His muzzle split into a sneer of a grin. "Oh. I can't take the word of outsiders like you."

"Please-"

The sandshrew's words broke off into a shriek as flames spewed from the houndoom's mouth, engulfing the small ground-type. Flames licked up into the sky as Howlinger gave a tremendous howl. He turned and raced along the path, flames on either side of him. He launched another flamethrower behind him at the burning town, trapping his victims within it, then howled again, joined by the rest of his pack.

The canine army raced away from the anguished screams, onto their next target, leaving the sandshrew's town a blazing smear against the darkening sky.

...

The tunnels wound through the belly of the volcano. Cleo's throat tickled with every breath of the warm, dry air. She'd been back to the exit Tyrix had shown them to call for Reshiram. He'd appeared in a heartbeat after hearing the tuneful whistle from his feather. He'd hovered in the air as she'd relayed what had happened, and the white dragon had wasted no time in taking off to find food for the starving typhlosion.

Every corridor she'd stumbled across had been empty. The whole island seemed barren. They'd not encountered a single pokemon to help them. It was Faith who'd spotted the little room off to the left, deep in the belly of the volcano. A torch flickered weakly on the wall, scattering shadows across a nest of dry hay. The typhlosion lay curled up on it, positioned as best as the trio could place him. His breathing was irregular and Cleo feared it would be a long time before he woke, if he even did. Just in case he woke before Reshiram returned, she set two sitrus berries and a scrap of fish from her own supplies near his nest and cast a wary glance towards the slowly guttering torch.

"We could be here a while," she said. "Reshiram said he'd be as quick as he can. Hopefully he won't be too long."

"He'd need to leave this island," said Spark. "There's nothing here."

"Spark's right." Faith shifted her weight against the wall, not taking her eyes off the typhlosion. "It's not just berries this place is missing. There's nothing here."

Cleo looked up at her. "What do you mean?"

"You must have noticed it." Faith's voice was quiet as if she feared rousing their new acquaintance. "This place is empty. He's alone here."

Cleo had noticed it, but she'd not wanted to admit it. She looked back over at the typhlosion and her chest clenched. What Torch had told them must have been true. The fire pokemon had all left, leaving behind this lonely typhlosion.

"Do you reckon that's why he's so unwelcoming?" Spark asked. "He's not used to the company? Bit of a lone wolf?"

"I think it runs a lot deeper than that, Spark," said Faith. "He clearly doesn't trust us."

"He was kind enough to come and help us when we fell through that sink hole," said Cleo.

"Yes. I believe he's a kind pokemon deep down," said Faith. "But he wants us off this island. I'm curious as to what's happened here. Why he's alone. Is it voluntary? I mean, surely he could leave as he pleased? Yet he's staying here, starving to death, apparently by choice."

"There's obviously more to that story than one would think," said Cleo. "Maybe there were problems with the mainland. A fall out or something?"

"Perhaps the war?" said Spark. "I mean, if Hydreigon ain't interested in this place then that's a pretty obvious reason to stay in my opinion."

"Then why didn't the others stay?" Cleo challenged.

A laugh came from the nest, cutting Spark off before she could give her answer. They all turned to look at the typhlosion. He pushed himself up slowly onto all-fours.

"You wanna know why?" he wheezed as he settled onto his haunches. He fixed one watery eye on Cleo and her friends. "You wanna know why they all left? Because I wanna know why you lot are still here."

"We weren't going to leave you in the state you're in," said Faith.

"Why not?" he growled, smoke leaking from between his bared teeth.

"Why?!" Spark almost screamed, drawing his glare. "Because we aren't heartless, that's why!" She picked up the sitrus berry, staggering under its weight. "Now eat this before I force it down your neck!"

The room fell into silence. Faith stood with both paws clasped over her mouth, her violet gaze going from Spark to the seething typhlosion and back. Cleo readied herself to leap to her friend's aid. But instead, the typhlosion chuckled and took the berry. He bit into it, its juices trickling over his chin and claws.

"Quite a feisty little pipsqueak, aren't ya?" he said.

Spark's whiskers crackled and she flicked her tail. "If you weren't in such a pathetic state I'd give you a good shocking for that remark."

He laughed again and winked. "Not afraid to stand up to someone bigger? I like that. You've got a lot of guts in such a tiny package."

Spark stuttered, conflicted.

The typhlosion ignored her, his gaze wandering over Cleo and Faith. "And what about you two? Either you're really brave to go against my orders or just plain stupid."

"I'm not scared of you at all," said Faith. "Even if you were in top condition I would have been reluctant to leave. We've been sent to look for a fire-type and I want to be certain it's not you before we leave. But that's not my priority right now. You're sick and in need of help."

"And why are you so insistent on helping me? Can't you let an old pokemon die in peace?"

Faith diverted her gaze, lost for words. The typhlosion didn't seem to care. He turned his head slowly, looking at each of them in turn.

"A mawile, meowstic and dedenne… The past just can't stop haunting me, can it?"

Cleo's ears pricked up. "What are you getting at?"

"Don't play dumb!" he spat, scattering sitrus juices. "Surely you three must blame me?"

"For what?" Cleo spat back. "For hiding out on this island during the war? Anyone would want to hide away. And it's not as if Hydreigon's armies can't fly."

"What, you think I'm avoiding fighting in this war?" he growled. "I raised an army here. We'd travel over to the mainland to offer help. Our strength, medicine, rations. No, I've not been hiding, meowstic. Not from that." He paused to lick the juices off his claws. "I'm talking about the Wildfires."

A chill ran through Cleo. She exchanged glances with her friends. "What have you got to do with the Wildfires?"

"What, so you're not here for revenge?" The typhlosion straightened. "'Cos I thought you three would bare the biggest grudge of all! 'Oh, old Tyrix did it! He raised an army of houndour and let them loose on the mainland! Run for your lives!'"

Cleo's claws dug into her pads. She was speechless. All she could do was stare at him, but she wasn't seeing him anymore. All she saw was fire.

"I know you two are from the Sparkling Forest." He pointed at Cleo and Spark. "I know what Howlinger and his dogs did to your home. And you, mawile. They torched the Iron Canyon. My army pointed their claws at me for all that massacre, all because I raised that pup."

Repressed psychic energy hummed in Cleo's ears. She was speechless. Was she actually hearing all this?

"I'm not from the Iron Canyon," said Faith. "I'm from the Fairy Garden."

Tyrix sat up straight, his eyes widening. He picked up the other sitrus berry and absently started peeling it. "Fairy Garden? That old tale? Pull the other one. It's more believable three survivors from that rotten mutt have turned up here for revenge!"

"We're not here for revenge." Faith placed a paw on Cleo's shoulder and took a step towards Tyrix.

Cleo felt shame heat up her face and she relaxed, uncurling her paws. Her pads stung. She closed her eyes briefly and took a steadying breath. "No, we're not."

"Then why are you here?" Tyrix asked.

Cleo met the typhlosion's gaze. "Xerneas sent us to look for a fire-type who can help us defeat the Wildfires." She paused, giving Tyrix the chance to speak but he didn't take it. He simply stared at her, seeming conflicted. "We've met a few fire-types, and on more than one occasion we were suggested to try Fire Island."

"I didn't expect to find a fire-type here, I'll be honest," said Faith. "But what I definitely didn't expect was that we'd encounter a fire-type who knows the Wildfires as well as you do. I always thought that when we found the pokemon we are looking for it would be as clear as day."

"Wait a minute, mawile." Tyrix blinked a few times and turned the half-peeled sitrus in his paws. "Are you suggesting that this fire-type you're looking for is me?"

"You know Howlinger," said Faith. "From what you've said, you raised him. Do you think you could stop the Wildfires?"

Tyrix threw his head back and roared laughter. His body shook as he was suddenly racked with coughs, spewing black smoke into the room. Cleo had to waft her paw before her face to avoid breathing it in. After a long moment, Tyrix gathered himself and wiped tears from his eyes.

"You think I can stop them?" he wheezed, waving a paw at his frail body. "Have you seen me?!"

Cleo couldn't deny that it seemed unlikely Tyrix would be able to take on the Wildfires. He barely looked like he could handle a bulbasaur in a drought.

Tyrix looked at each of them. "Did Xerneas really send you?"

"Yes," said Faith, and Cleo and Spark nodded.

The typhlosion stared at them for a moment. "So all those stories are real? Wow." He closed his eyes. "Either I'm going crazy in my old age, or I've died or something."

"It's none of those things," said Faith. "And even if it isn't you, good has come from our visit here. We won't leave until you've got your strength back. We can help you get off this island if you want to."

He looked up at her and grunted. "I dunno. Let me think about that one." He shifted in his nest. "You really think I can help you defeat the Wildfires?"

Cleo sighed and sat down against the wall. "I really don't know. We were told to fight fire with fire. Would that even work?"

"And if not," said Spark, "does Howlinger have any weaknesses you know of?"

"Weaknesses?" Tyrix scratched his head and took a bite from his sitrus. "Aye. Yeah, he's got one. A big one." He paused as he swallowed his mouthful. "It's his ego."

"Ego?" Spark echoed.

"Aye. He's got a big ego." Tyrix took another bite of his fruit.

Spark grunted a 'huh'. "I thought you were gonna say 'water' or somethin'."

"Water puts out fire, sure," said Tyrix. "But fire also dries up water. You ain't gonna put the Wildfires down with that alone, little mouse. Pokemon have tried and failed."

Spark deflated into the hay. "Well I'm confused."

"You're not alone there, Spark." Cleo met Tyrix's eye. "Could you elaborate? How is his ego his weakness?"

Tyrix licked his paws clean before answering. "Growin' up, he was a real piece of work." The typhlosion sat back in his nest until he was comfortable. "Howlinger always challenged those bigger than him, and he had a sneer that could put another pokemon off their berries. To be honest, looking back I should have seen it coming. Howlinger always wanted his own army, so he rounded up a pack of houndour. He was to be the only one to evolve, and any that challenged him were swiftly dealt with. He killed his own brother, Wailwolf, in a test of strength. He claimed it was an accident but he never seemed remorseful. After that, none of his pack dared challenge him again.

"He was careful about who entered his pack as well. They all had to be like him. The same skills, the same attacks - long range fire, and close range dark. Those who didn't fit the bill were exiled. One of my soldiers claimed he'd seen Howlinger toss them into the sea, but I didn't want to believe it. You see, Howlinger was the runt of his litter. His mother died shortly after childbirth, and his father couldn't cope with raising two pups on his own. He mysteriously vanished, leaving two orphaned hatchlings. I was soft on 'em, so I raised them both myself."

Tyrix trailed off and his eyes glazed over. For a moment, Cleo feared he was going to faint again. But the typhlosion took in a ragged breath and shook his head sharply.

"You couldn't have known," said Faith.

"I should have though," Tyrix growled. "The signs were there! That mutt was obsessed with training his army. I always thought it was for the greater good. He trained separately from us. Me and my army, we'd fight back with fire and wade right through it. But Howlinger couldn't handle the flames. Neither could any of his army. It would hurt them, so they'd race on ahead torching things as they passed, and any of their targets that escaped would be flung right back into the flames."

"So that's why they leave a trail of fire!" Spark gasped. "They can't run through it!"

"Exactly," Tyrix grunted. "But fire is a devastating thing. You've seen it yourselves. Howlinger saw it as power. As a tool for destruction. That cur was corrupted from birth. The houndour were the only dark-types on Fire Island. It had always been the case. We prefer the heat here, the mainland is too cold. I always assumed he'd fight alongside us, but I was wrong. He was swayed by the Darkness, wanting to join something he saw as superior. The next thing I know, he's tearing across the mainland torching down villages to win his way into Hydreigon's ranks.

"Since I raised that pup, Fire Island got the blame. Even some of my own soldiers turned against me. Everyone fled to the mainland in a desperate bid to make up for what they felt was their responsibility. But me, I couldn't face anyone. I stayed here, moping in my own guilt."

Everyone was silent for a moment as they digested all that. The psychic hum in Cleo's ears had died down. She felt humbled. She'd been blaming Tyrix for the Wildfires just like many others had, but it wasn't his fault. He'd tried to raise the houndoom just like Tinker was doing with Starshine. As far as the old typhlosion was concerned, Howlinger was going to be a member of his army, fighting against the Darkness. How was Tyrix meant to know the entire pack would turn against him?

Cleo cleared her throat, breaking through the silence. Tyrix fixed one eye on her.

"I still don't understand," she said. "You said his ego is his weakness. But how is that meant to defeat him?"

"Simple, kitten," said Tyrix. "He sculpted his army to be like him. None of them can stand in their own flames. Very little can stand against fire. Even water-types have a hard time. They burn, like everyone else. Except those who can stand in the thick of a blaze. An ability Howlinger shunned in favour of his own intimidating countenance." He paused, looking at each of them in turn. "You see, I don't burn like they do."

Cleo blinked, but it was Spark who spoke up. "What on earth does that mean?"

Cleo's heart was racing. She had an odd feeling Tyrix was about to drop something huge on them. There was a glint in his eye, a fire that wasn't there earlier. Even his ragged form seemed transformed with an uncanny energy.

"Oh, very simple, little dedenne." Tyrix chuckled and flashed his canines in a grin. "Fire gives me strength."

...

Fun fact - Wailwolf was Howlinger's original name, but it got changed at some point during the original write-up. Embarassingly, if you read the old 'fic you'll find him called Wailwolf the first time he's mentioned by Tinker very early on. So I decided to recycle it as his brother's name. It gives him a bit more history, too.

Thanks for reading! Please R&R! =D