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step thirteen

Sometimes Things Get Out Of Hand

David's vision swam in ghostly clouds and lines of blue and purple and red and why was he on the floorboards of the wagon again?

He pulled himself up.

Oh. Right. He dozed off watching the sea.

He chose to watch the sea off the cart's right because the city was going by on the left. Watching the endless mess of the older districts go by just made his stomach churn.

So, he chose to watch the sea and dozed off in the sun with his eyes open, so now his eyes were complaining about the sun. And his arms were complaining from being locked to hold him up on the wall of the cart. And his shoulder complaining of the fall he took from the cart's stop.

Wait, they stopped?

Why did they stop?

"Hey, ah, Dimas? Why'd we stop?"

His blind feeling around found the lacquered wood of the driver's seat and he pulled himself up. The colors were still there when he closed his eyes.

"...Dimas?" He fished leftward and found the Lombre's lily pad an arm's length away. He shuffled over. He poked at it. "Dimas, we're still on the Harmonia Walk, right?" …he took the silence as a yes. "Why'd we stop?"

"From a fear of obliteration."

"Uhhh."

"Not ours. Theirs."

"Disma Boasorte," a deep voice announced from ahead of them. Its owner was hidden by the clouds in David's eyes. "Disma Boasorte, did I not tell you this morning that the Walk in its entirety was closed this day from sunrise to sunset?"

"Sir Gregory," the Lombre replied softly. His tone shared Seve's thick, grandiose accent and yet had none of the grandstanding. "If it is truly barred, then why permit entry?"

Oh and then David's grip failed to handle his fright because Arcanine huge Arcanine Arcanine taking up his entire vision gigantic gigantic huge Arcanine

"Every soul in the Square knows, without question. The Harmonia Walk. Is allotted. For Baron Cadre drills. On every. Single. Eve. Of a Ruination. Be they commoners, nobles, thieves, murderers, cowards, or even ilk; they all understand that if we fail our duties, every single life in the Square is at forfeit. Posting guard is redundant. No one dares the thought of jeopardizing the wall that has kept them, their wealth, their family, and their victims safe for over two thousand years. Am I being clear this time?"

Big dog. Biiiig doggie. Big doggie with very unhappy eyes. Unhappy teeth. Teeth.

"Most minds retch of pandemic fears beyond days past, Sir Gregory. Hold, one moment…. Pandemic fears, of days past, reach beyond most minds. Yes, like that."

Very, very, very, very, very, very very very big dog. Teeth. Teeth as big as his head. Big dog has big teeth.

"Just leave the Walk before you get the Duchess' pets hurt, Disma. Iuris knows what they did to earn her favor—no disrespect to your brother, of course, but a cavalry is unnecessary for someone within the walls."

"A truth bears no disrespect. It only is a happenstance that I am eternally grateful for the chance they had across him. …no. ….yes. Yes. I think?"

Very gigantic dog backed away with a barely hidden growl.

"Aren't we all, if only to have the Armada boring down on someone else for this. Take the next ramp down to the main streets, Disma. We still have some time before we begin cannon drills. The walls will be open again just before sunset for all the evening travel you could desire."

The cart lurched and moved again. "The starbound wind will tremble at your impasse, I am certain."

"One last thing, Disma." The cart did not slow. "Tell your.… Ghrmph! If you were Seve, this… this would be easier to put into words. Disma, I will, hmph, I am detailing a report for Teresa regarding the actions of her daughter. Trespassing and public disturbances all over the Wards and Stovepipe, damage to four merchant stalls of the Soottown Market—does she not have any idea how this will reflect on her mother? On the Triangle as a whole?"

"…tolo cego—Sir Gregory, may I ask your rank of the Cadre?"

"Earl of the Bastion."

"Will Earl Gregory suffice?"

"It will. As will Bastion Earl Gregory, should proper honorifics be needed."

"Bom. Very well. Excellent. Bastion Earl Gregory, besides vigilating perpetualance of an extinct threat, what else is the position to your domains? …pertains to your dominion?"

Doggie stood taller. "As one of the three Basion Earls of the Commoner's Square, I oversee to the needs of every Battery Fief on the Harmonia Walk and, as such, their Ballista Lords answer directly to me and me alone. I mediate over the Counts of the Ward and manage their jurisdiction and cooperation as their adviser, their provisioner, and as their voice in the Baron Cadre—my domain consisting of Sky's Row and eastward."

"Including the Triangle?"

"The Triangle's Sherriff is considered an honorary—I see what you are asking now, Disma, but you are missing the point."

"Then if that is not, allow me to strike the other. Should you truly sail for galleons long over the horizon, no rowboat in the bay will fly your flag. Earl of the Bastion Gregory, your crest means nothing to a harbinger. Fate shuttles this Cubone elsewhere."

The cart turned. Doggie disappeared behind the wall. The cart descended down a long, gentle ramp.

Big dog.

Biiiiig dog.

"Tolo cego. Corrigir o meu próprio nome, e talvez eu irá fornecer guia. Do you still breathe, David."

"Why was that dog so big?"

"Bom bom. Ele faz."

"Why was that dog so big."

"Melhor ainda, ele não tem isso."

"That dog was big."

"Meu fio para venda, por que eu esperar o contrário…."

"That dog was—" POP

something is digging into his scales something is digging into his scales his arm his arm his arm its going right down his arms and digging into all of its going to the bone to the bone his arm is—

"Owwwwwwwww. Oh ow. Ow. Oww-ww-w-ww. Was that really needed!?"

He wiped off the film of water off his arm with his other hand—oh and now his hand was tingling in a very unhappy matter, that's exactly what he wanted! He shuddered and shook off the rest of the water.

"Was that really needed?!" He repeated.

The Lombre twitched the reins and the Numel pulling the cart slowed to round the turn in the ramp. David's ignored glare withered, and his attention turned to his arm to find himself clawing at it; he already had lines of agitated scales.

His hand only tingled, but the spot where the bubble hit him felt like something was pulling off his hide. He crossed his arms and pinned his hands against his sides. It was a fight to keep them there.

He slumped against the driver's seat—that was just a singular bubble. One bubble attack is causing him some more-than-mild discomfort, and no doubt it was a purposefully weak one.

One little bubble, and his entire arm feels like it is peeling. What if it was an actual blast of water? Or if he fell in a pond? What then?

"I'm going to melt, aren't I?" he gloomed. "I am going to melt. What a world. What a world."

Dimas scoffed. The Minun scowled from her hiding spot under the driver's seat. Sobek said nothing, wherever he was hiding up front. David wanted to ride in the back so he can watch the city go by and, well, that certainly worked out well for the brave leader.

The cart completed another turn and the Windfall Spire came back into view. David immediately spotted the Sixth Floor Medical Pavilion, a ring of carved stone and iron supports a fourth of the way up the spire. Everything up from that was smooth grey stone, up and up and up to its flat peak to where a tree grew. He could only see the roots as they grew down the sides of the stone, the unmoving canopy above, and the very edge of a gleaming green building. The Ducal Mansion.

That's… awfully high up there. Freakishly high up there. How can anyone bear to live that high up?

He rolled his shoulders and tightened his scarf. He was suddenly very cold; the wind was licking the water from his arm.

"Where is all this wind coming from anyway—with the wall and that huge spire there? I mean, it's called the Windfall so—"

"It goes through it," Dimas interrupted. "Other side towards the ocean, the wall itself, it is called Lugia's Harmonium. Very beautiful, stunning, to see it from the water. I expected Duchy craftsmanship, but it is far beyond what I heard. A great Lugia sculpture, wings outstretched along the wall, head towards the water, tail snared by the roots of the Windfall Juniper. It catches the wind and carries it through the wall and spire…." He took a breath and hesitated. "I heard it is to make music on certain days."

The motion of Dimas' lily pad moving caught David's attention and he found Dimas meeting his eyes. In the shade of his lily pad, Dimas' green eyes seemed to glow against the rest of his darkened face. "I wonder where the sea air goes to."

David took an equally deep breath. The air was fresh but the Lombre was right, it wasn't salty. "Um."

Dimas turned away and pulled on the reigns. The wagon veered onto the main avenue and the wall disappeared behind the stone-and-wood buildings. They were deep in the older part of town, and David quickly became keenly aware they were not the only ones on the street as the huffing and clattering of pack-Pokemon trotted past.

"…hear Lyall said he got us posts on the wall for tomorrow?"

And the chatter from the pedestrians walking by.

"Aye, it's great. So what is it then? The Walk? Riverrun? Stars, it's not Pavetracking, I'll even take the Flue."

David swallowed and pulled his coat tighter over himself as he shrunk further into the floor of the cart.

"All I know is that it's a vesper shift, so pack your mints and chestos. Till then, Hervey's? Food and see where the other…"

They were mostly the same height, the buildings, but had varying rows of windows. Some had three large ones; others had four or five smaller ones. Very few had actual glass, instead having those wooden door things on them. Wooden doors covering windows. …that could keep the rain from blowing in his house and the warmth from blowing out. He could open them up in the morning, greet the sun in a song.

Er, perhaps not a song. Certainly not in a song. In fact, if he had his way, those pidgey will learn not to wake him up with their own tunes.

"…of Gracidea Academy?"

"Well it's not going to ring then, right? I don't see what the big deal is."

"The big deal?! It's an eight hundred seventy-three-year-old bell gifted as tribute from a country that only existed for nearly a quarter of that—"

"The Gracidea Bell is not what is being rung and you know that! It sits in the spire's base, all safe, and the one up top is the seventeenth copy in use, each made by the same family in the same village that's only a five days' ride to the west where the only thing that's changed is the flag on their gate. And it's the headstock that needs fixing, not the bell itself—just-just let this go!"

"My point is you don't just get someone from Remik or Ferrocala fix a national symbol! Someone from outside the Duchy just can't…"

A few blooming flowerboxes hung here and there, colored in deep wooden colors that trimmed the white walls and roofs. Most of the buildings were made of that white stuff, with wood or stone or both keeping up the corners and outlining the floors of the building on the exterior.

One of the shutters—shutters! Window doors are called shutters! The motion of one opening caught David's eyes. The top floor of one they passed a minute ago, the shutters had flown open so harshly that they had bounced back closed again. It took a moment before they opened again, this time much more gently, and an Axew's head glumly planted itself on the windowsill. Her paws slowly fell away from her nose to let her eyes skim slowly over the traffic below.

They stopped immediately on David.

She visibly recoiled only to lean forward again to squint. And then she was gone.

"Oookay—so, uh, Dimas? Where exactly are we going? …um?"

...they were in the old part of town. Going down the big avenue away from the Windfall.

That's eastward then. The old part of the city was a huge chunk of the eastern half of the Square. From above, the streets seemed like a mess and the buildings almost haphazard. If they were heading into that, David didn't know if he could find his way back out without help.

"Hey, Dimas, is there like a map of the city I can get somewhere?"

…east was also that odd walled-off part of town with the chimneys and smokestacks, but that sounded claustrophobic even to a fire breather, nevermind an ice-type.

David flinched—if they're going east, that means they're going farther down the peninsula. That means farther away from home!

"Dimas, how does everyone get around the Square anyway? This place is huge! It's going to take me all day to walk all the way to the other side of town!"

…at least it will be an interesting walk with a lot of things to look at. And maybe by then the Walk will be reopened, he wouldn't have to go through that chaos of that marketplace. That place is too chaotic to ever sleep.

But there was also the, what did that Kirlia call it, the Dawnfall Lighthouse? That sounded right, the Lighthouse and that curious bit of town way out towards—"What are you?"

"Gffffaauuugh—ack!"

The shuttering of the cart helped David take his face off the wall and a blur of green whirled around from the driver's seat. "This is my cart! What are you doing on my cart!?"

"I'm seeing what this thing is." The voice was female, brisk, adolescent. David blinked and an Axew's head formed from the blurs atop the wagon's opposite wall. The same Axew from the window. The cart lurched as she crawled completely in. The Numel lowed on protest, huffed steam, and kept pace. "I've never seen one of these before and I'm seeing what it is."

Dimas' claws rapped the wood of his driver's seat sharply and he spoke through a stiff jaw, "But this is my cart. Who gave you permission to be on my cart!?"

"My aunt did."

"Your aunt." The words were almost lost under the straining of the wood.

"Yeah, my aunt. She said I could jump on Seve's cart anytime I wanted."

Dimas stood on the driver's seat, eyes wide. His claws had sunk deeply into the back of it. "Tell me. Does this look like the cart of Severino Odilon Boasorte!?"

The Axew looked left, and then she looked right. She tapped the floor, and then she nodded. "Yeah. It looks just like it. No other cart in the Square is made from Tapren whatever-wood-this-is."

She… she had a point with that one and it more than visibly blindsided the Lombre. He recovered quick and his head fell with a scowl.

"You telling me it's not his? Who are you then?"

"I am Dimas Boasorte. I am Seve's brother."

"You don't look like a Sneas—"

"By family. Not. Blood."

"Oh. Like that. Sure. Okay. …so you sure this isn't Seve's cart?"

"This is my cart. I ask you to leave it."

"No."

"…no? Tell me. Why 'no?'"

"If that thing that I don't know is on your cart, why can't I?"

"Don't bring me into this!"

"Oh! It taaalks~!"

"Why wouldn't I? And I'm not an 'it.'"

"So what are you?"

"What do you think I am?"

"I dunno. A monster?"

"A-a monster? Why would you think I'm a monster!?"

"Well, as a Rilou, I'd be pretty scared."

"But you're an Axew."

"Yeah, I am. Which is why I'm not scared."

"I—what—so why would you think I'm a monster then?"

"I dunno. What else could you be?"

"A… Pokémon maybe?"

"Pffff. My aunt has taught me the names every single kind of Pokémon in the Square and I'm really good at remembering and you don't look like any of them. So, you're not a Pokémon!"

"I-wh—? Oh good gods…!"

She's just sitting there. She is just sitting there—is she enjoying this!? No, she's just sitting there! Looking at David with this weird half-interested look and ignoring the glare Dimas was giving her. The cart has long since pulled over and stopped, but Dimas was slowly shrinking back down into the driver's seat from all the odd looks from everyone passing and she's just sitting there!

"Cubone. I am a Cubone."

"Oh, hmmmm... Oh-oh-oh, you mean one of those lizard things from Ferrocala! Cubone! Oh! I remember now! Hah, I just forgot! My aunt mentioned you! She wanted to meet you—something something skull and club and a brain in the skull, yeah, a real Cubone, that's what she said!"

"Little Axew girl. You are being very rude—"

"Oh. Sorry! My name is Luna. Hello, Mister Seve's Brother, hi not-scary monster."

"Why me, Palkia, why me."

Where was the Minun to toss her off the cart…!

"Little Luna. You do know it is insufferably rude to just hop on someone's cart without permission."

"But I have permission! From my aunt."

"And just who is your aunt!"

"Oh. Um. I-I don't know her name really—she's always been j-just Auntie to me—I'm-I'm new to the Square. B-but she's really big and important. She's a master! I think. I don't know. Like, um, not completely a master though? She's half a master Salamance! Yeah! A Salamancer-"

"Quartermaster Kimura."

"Yes! Yes, that's Auntie! But what's a Quartermaster?"

Dimas sat down. Why is Dimas sitting down, why is he not booting this Axew off his cart.

Why is the cart moving again.

"In his merchant duties, she is Seve's superior. And… my own."

David's head hit the wall of the cart.

"Yeah! And that's why I have permission!"

David's head hit the wall of the cart.

David's head hit the wall of the cart. "Can-can we get that Monferno back here?"

"It kindly succumbed to the Nidoran's poison," Dimas mumbled.

David's head hit the wall of the cart.

"Hey, so if this really isn't his cart where even is Seve? I've been looking for him everywhere for a week and I can't find him! I need him to give something to Mister Budget when he goes out of the Square and sees them again."

That's strange.

David opened an eye. "Wasn't our crashing into the Square a big deal? One of the nurses said—"

"What's a 'nurse'?"

"Acolyte." David scowled. Luna chirped in understanding—what is that grin? It's supposed to stop at the tusks, not the ears, what is that grin?! "One of the acolytes said we made a bit of a panic when we crashed over in—I think she called it the Boiler? Why haven't you heard—"

"Oh, the Boiler, euuuugh." Luna gagged, tongue stuck out and all. "It's like Stovepipe but none of the cool things it has. What does the Boiler have? Fire. That's it. Boring. It's worse than boring. It's stupid boring. I'd rather see weird Soottown than the stupid boring Boiler."

Dimas almost leapt to his feet, "Little Axew girl—this reminds me of a talk your aunt and I had the other day. Something about a niece of hers being grounded for a week because she went to the Soottown Market alone and without permission. Oh my, such an inconsiderate girl! Ignoring the rules of such a protective and doting guardian."

The Axew paled. "Um! Not-not me! I—if I-if I went to-to-to Soottown on me-my own, it'd b-be because-cause I was told to! Not me! Not on my own!"

"Hmm. I'm not quite sure I believe you, little Axew girl. Ah well," the Lombre held up his hands in indifference. "I'll be sure to tell your aunt that she need not introduce me to her Axew niece, as she rudely joined me on my cart as I returned home."

"Oh. Um. Y-you don't need to do that! Really!"

The cart stopped and Dimas turned. "Please leave my cart, Luna. You are upsetting Fausto."

"Oh. Well. Um. You can always feed it more coal! There's this really nice—it's right in Stovepipe so it's not even that far—Numel love coal! Did you know that Mr. Not-Monster? They really, really love coal. They just eat that stuff right up!"

"But Rhydon do not eat coal," said the Lombre.

"I… what?" Luna's mouth fell as she blinked harshly. "Um, is this a Tapio joke thing? I don't get it. Or like from a Tapio fairy tale or story? I think I read a few but not—"

"Yes. Yes, you have caught me. Please leave my cart."

Luna glanced around, eyes pleading with anyone to help her in her predicament. She only found David, and even then he was suddenly asleep. Oh, Cubone with their strange narcolepsy issues, how unfortunate for her! He was so completely and utterly unavailable to aid her in her pointless persistence.

"Não se enrosque nos pesadelos. Vai! Vai!"

Luna's tusks fidgeted as she chewed on her bottom lip.

"Vai!"

The Axew jumped off the cart and the panic of her scrambling was quickly lost to the crowd without a single ripple in the din. Fausto snorted happily and the wheels rolled.

"...anything? Every penult, you forget something—last month it was flour, and before that, firewood. What baker forgets..."

"...Mithra that Flintstrike duty is not the worst thing to be stuck with! She listens to you—look, how about this. Tell her this is the last…."

"...flash above the Garden? Tonight over in the Triangle will be my fourth viewing and I still have no idea how they're doing it!"

"Psychics."

"It can't be psychics—we're dark type, we'd know! And besides they'd… t-they'd… by Aivas…!"

Heavy footsteps deafened the noises of the crowd and they kept pace with the wagon.

"Hail, friend Dimas!" This new voice was was loud, and proud of it. The wheels wobbled with as the pavestones shook from his voice. Or perhaps it was just the cart after all.

"Hail to return." Dimas was barely above a whisper.

"How fairs brother Seve?"

"Unfairly."

"L'angoscia intacca l'acciaio…. How it pains me, tears a jagged hole direct to my heart!" It was like the entire crowd was being deafened by this one Pokemon. "Please! Give him our well-wishes! All of Illimitato stand by him, as he has stood by us. Tell him that. Please."

"Why not tell by your own?"

"Hah! How refreshing to speak with you, Dimas. I wish more here had the resolve to not hide behind their words."

The entire crowd did stop. Even the pack-Pokemon had quieted and slowed to a crawl around them. There were only the faintest of whispers in the air, and all of them had the gasps of wonder and awe.

"But tragedy is inconsiderate by nature, and every time we have a sword to spare, we just can't find that crafty Sneasel! Even bedridden—even bedridden! …he is like a blade in the oil. We… we just wish to see him recover without further pain to all involved."

"I will carry your message then."

"We thank you, and I thank you. Take brightsteel for Spadaleone, Dimas."

"As Teucrizion draws swift, Laelius."

"Say, before we part, was that not Kimura's niece I saw running back home? It takes quite a lot to get her excited—"

"She mistook my cart for my brother's, nothing more. ...he spoils her greatly."

"Ahhh I see, I see. And here I thought she was on to something—you should know, Kimura has a favor for the one who finds a certain… …ah, right. The precious time of a day such as this is sadly not worth a favor of Kimura, certainly when I have so many already. Fair well, Dimas." The heavy footsteps trotted away.

That certain someone was no doubt a certain Cubone. Dimas quickly steered the cart down the first lane he crossed and left the stunned crowd behind.

David finally opened an eye. "Dimas, you have no idea how thankful I am right now."

"It will heal the contempt for what drew that intolerable child in the first place."

"Heal the—oh." David swallowed. "Sorry. Should I, um, hide up front like the others?"

"There are many more flowerpots in this city, but no other bears curiosity."

"I, uhhm. Okay."

The rolling roofs framed the deep blue sky above them, spitting out a cloud every so often that lazily made its way to the other side. There were also these iron-work Lampet things, elevated above the street on iron poles and, here and there, the sun poked out between the buildings, casting warmth over the cart and David.

How late in the day was it anyway? Mid-afternoon? Late afternoon? David didn't really notice how close the sun was towards the horizon, he had just lost himself in the sunshine and the endless waves.

He wanted to go home. Sure, he only spent one night in it, sure it was in ruins, sure his sleep wasn't the best, but he had decided it was his home and that was that. He just wanted to be as far away from this hustle and bustle as he could right now and home was that answer. Certainly Sobek and the Minun wouldn't complain.

He still needed a name for the Minun, now that he thought about it. She'd been far friendlier since he'd woken up, and it was more than clear by now she was going to stick with them. Even if she wasn't though, she still needed something she didn't respond to with a swift kick to the ankles.

There was a Meditite floating by, elbow-deep inside one of the iron Lampets with a toolbox hovering at his knee. He soon pushed himself out and pulled a switch inside the ironwork. In response, a crisp yellow flame erupted within the glass orb of the Lampet. It burned strong for a second, but soon sputtered out, and then it all vanished behind the back wall of the cart.

So they're streetlights. The Meditite was fixing that one, and the rest probably don't turn on until evening.

Lampet-like streetlights, with possibly some oil-based flame? Lampet was an interesting choice for designing a streetlight after. Then again, it's a lantern to begin with. That really isn't that big of a leap between inspiration and utilization now was it?

"You still breathe, David, yes?"

"I'm still here, I'm still here. You don't need to check on me every five minutes."

"I'd rather you not fall asleep while we move through the wards."

David glanced up. Dimas was back to his rigid, unmoving driving posture, looking straight forward.

The cart jostled as it dodged left faster than it should—David skittered to his feet to look over the side. There was a cart stopped in the middle of the road, its heavy wooden boxes lurching dangerously to one side held only by iron chains. A quick hop up to look revealed two agitated Taros and the cart's front-right wheel in splinters. A Pidgeot wearing a sunset orange scarf was questioning its driver, an extremely nervous Vigoroth.

Dimas grumbled lowly before shouting something in Tapren to get the attention of the Pidgeot. "Back away! Let no one to that side! It's rot! Phagewood! The entire cart!"

The bird's eyes narrowed while she watched the Vigoroth's anxious fidgeting immediately stop. "Phaage-wud?" She replied. She spoke almost in song. "Th'ent iiireing? Not juust th'eels?"

"The chain by sitting there is sawing the wood. The entire thing will fall soon enough over! The cart bears the Cadre's crest—report that imbecile at once to the Quartermaster, on behalf of Dimas Boasorte. That's Dee-maas! Not! Dis-mis!" He turned forward. "They'll need the cart immediately, before it crumbles."

The Pidgeot ruffled her wings. "Ahhhh! One of th'Age Caarp-in-dur's, I see! I see!" The whole singing accent must be a bird thing. Or, she was doing to be heard over everything else—her voice rang above it all like a bell. The Vigoroth moved to escape but the Pidgeot batted him back against the broken wheel. "And you, for en-daangering th'se streeets and whatever nafaaarious deeds lay in your head, you will be mooost forthcoming, th' first wee've had to talk! Oh, yes, oh yes."

Her wings flashed white—David winced. The Vigoroth's second escape ended with him skidding into the far wall of the buildings. Well. That's a way to stop them. She nodded to her officers and they dragged the dazed Vigoroth away.

David pulled himself back up on the driving seat. "How, um, important is this Quartermaster Pokémon?"

David said Quartermaster and his mind echoed with images of… someone storing weapons and armor. Training. Combat. Sprinting. Throwing a ball. Catching a ball. …dancing?

"Kimura? She does only what Seve and I do, get Teams the items they need and the means to send it their way."

"That sounds—"

"Though. Seve and I only have a… select clientele. Trusted Teams, heavily trusted Teams. Small in number, wide in influence, them and only them. But Kimura? She handles teams of several thousand all over the Duchy, Shiiram, western Krozem coast. Trustable, to nebulous, to despicable. From large and larger to largest and fathomless. Spends her days in the Bazaar, moving inventory across nations to teams, merchants… and more. Her methods are perfect…." A great crashing came from behind them. "Unless an imbecile repairs his entire cart using firewood."

Dimas turned to the Cubone, in the sunlight, his eye was plain and empty. "Do your best to never meet her. There are few I trust in this madhouse of a city. She is not one of them. Do not dare. To learn why."

David swallowed. The Quartermaster that… that had to be that Salamance he saw up from the Pavilion, over in that chaotic marketplace to the west. The Bazaar, that's what Dimas just called it?

"R-right. I'll keep that—" he swallowed his nausea. "I'll keep that in mind."

Dimas just faced forward again.

"But, um, Luna? She mentioned Kimura saying I'm a real Cubone? What does that even mean?"

"I have no proper idea, and this disturbs me greatly. You are very almost similar like the Cubone I knew in Tapio." He paused, running the words back over in his head again. "Very almost similar? …isso faz sentido, Dimas. Bom, bom. Similar very almost? Almost very similar—you are almost very similar to the Cubone friends I had in Tapio."

Very almost similar? A shame Sobek was asleep right now!

"How so?"

Dimas opened his mouth but paused. He soundlessly talked to himself for a few moments. Then, finally, "I lack the words but, for one, you are tall. Taller than them even. Second… errr… para falar da loucura forçado em cima de você…." He scowled. "An essence? You are to wear that."

David followed the Lombre's motion to his jerkin. He grimaced. "Just what is wrong with this thing?"

The Lombre took in a deep breath and scowled. "Through the little words, you enjoy wearing it?"

"Yes. I do. What is so wrong with that?"

Dimas said nothing. Instead, a very familiar groan came from below.

"We look silly," said the snout of a Totodile as it poked out from under the driver's seat. "That's what's wrong."

And, as comfortable as his coat was, David agreed with him. Sobek looked absolutely silly in that Priplup jacket, the weird hood over his face wasn't helping matters. It formed a low, rigid triangle over his head from stiffer whatever material was in it, and the edges were traced in dyed lines of red and yellow that then ran towards the Totodile's back.

Minnie had voiced her own opinion of David's own jacket by falling over in laughter back in his hospital room. He kinda deserved it, he almost did the same when seeing Sobek.

The hood was pulled back and a glassy eye glared upwards. "That girl back there is gone, right?"

"Dimas scared her off, yeah."

Sobek blinked, his snout curling like he was fighting a sneeze. "…must have actually nodded for an entire minute then. The Minun snores, by the way." He shook his head a bit too fast and a bit too long for comfort.

David pulled himself over the seat and offered a hand. "You're doing a lot worse than I thought you were."

Sobek groaned with his eyes rolling, but took the help up. Though he less flopped onto It than he did melted. David helped him sit up. "Listen. I really…." He teetered as the cart turned down an alleyway towards the wall. "I can spelunk dungeons all day. I can take on monster house after monster house. I can walk for hours on end with no problem."

"You can put up with me."

"I can put up with you." At least that got a humored scoff out of him. But he slumped, eyes wide and bloodshot. "I can't. Take. The Square, David." His voice was cracking, falling apart almost. "I can't take it. Too many Pokémon, too little sky. Too loud, too chaotic—I feel like the walls are about to squish me." He swallowed dryly. "I'm… I'll give Little Tapio a shot—singular shot. But I don't think I can ever come back to the Square again. Er, no offense Dimas."

"Wisdom faces no contempt," Dimas replied simply.

Sobek nodded, and kept nodding a bit too quickly as he pulled his hood as far over his head as he could get it. "I need to get out of here. I need to get out of here—I need to get out of here before I lose it completely, I need to get out of here—"

"Hey, hey, hey, don't do that!" David shook his friend's shoulders. "Breathe, Sobek, breathe. Don't go having a heart attack on me. We know what I am now, I'm…. um. Some kind of medical-doctor Pokémon that isn't really a doc—okay, look. Just let me to help you. I think I can, I just need to try. Line-of-sight, remember?"

Sobek took in a rattling breath. "Just hit me as hard as you can with that club of yours and maybe I'll be fine once I wake up. Hopefully, hopefully, in another hundred years or so. That sounds nice."

The cart turned eastward again, Sobek teetered again. David pulled him upright. "Take a rain check on that one, sorry. Can't have my partner in a coma."

Dimas looked down. "Where would the rain be of currency?"

"Um. I… I don't know." David crumbled into nervous laughter. "Don't know at all."

Sobek buried his eyes in his palms. "Probably a desert. I'll deposit it there. Make a fortune. Use it to buy heat. Sell it up north."

"This is the best get-rich-quick scheme I've heard. Let's do it."

The stoned-faced Lombre cracked a frown. "Do you not have amnesia? Your views on these things are meaningless."

"That's the joke. You can laugh if you need to."

The Lombre shifted his jaw and looked ahead, eyes falling distant again.

"It's getting less and less funny, David," Sobek groaned, hissing as he rubbed his eyes again.

"Nonsense!"

"How many times have you even pulled the 'I'm an amnesiac!' gag now…?" Trees rustled. The wagon wheels clacked a different pattern as the large pavestones changed to a much smaller cobblestone road. Sobek took his hands away from his eyes. "…this is not what I was expecting."

They were entering another park. One planted far more densely than the Garden ring in the center of the city. David couldn't see even ten feet off the path because of the trees, and in the space the trees didn't take up there were large leafy bushes instead. The canopy dropped right down to the bushes and covered the road with woven arches of branches above.

The noise of the whole city behind them fell to a whisper on the wind and muffled by the leaves above, the creaks of the cart below, and the faint bits of conversation from the few walking Pokémon they passed.

"I saw this from the Pavilion," David mumbled his thoughts. "I thought it was just an odd little park." An odd little park next to that odd little neighborhood.

Turns out that the park was actually the neighborhood.

The trees thinned and worn cobblestone paths struck out into the woods and returned with children's laughter. Strings of buildings sat alongside the cobblestone roads. They were smaller than the ones in the rest of the City, more humble, more… more flawed. They looked like they were made by the Pokémon that were living in it, rather than the builders of the city. They were oddly spaced, and oddly shaped. A few made from brick, a few from wood, a few made into the tree, one gigantic treehouse that disappeared up into the canopy, a few large enough to hold multiple families, a few that that probably only served to protect an entry to an underground den, a… few that looked like giant cocoons? None of them were shaped the exact same way and the path lacked the Lampet-adorned lamps the main roads had.

David quickly made a promise to himself to never use bug-silk in building his home.

He saw that Ariados. Thing could eat him in one bite. His home was not going to be a pre-made oven for the first gigantic spider that comes his way!

…this road didn't have the Lampet-adorned lamps either. There were these neatly kept rows of grass in the middle and sides of the road where this odd plant was planted every so often. They looked a lot like a persim berry plant; thick stems leading up to a spherical bushel of leaves, tall enough for it seem like a low lying tree for David. Except they didn't have flowers or any fruit on them, the golden leaves just glowed a soft yellow in the afternoon shade. They… just glowed.

Dimas did a panicked double-take at the next one that went by; someone had taken a large bite out of it.

"Another rubori for replacing," Dimas put words to his grumbling after a moment. "if you see a child looking ill, having a purple glow about them, making wooshing sounds as they run along, please point me towards them."

"You mean if they look a bit green?" David asked. The Lombre turned and sat.

"The wooshing is new," Sobek said.

"Yes. It is."

"Oh." David coiled his tail around him.

Sobek plucked a small leaf off the next one they passed, smelled it, and then examined with a frown it as the glow slowly faded. It left a trail of glowing powder through the air. "I don't remember these things smelling… nutty?"

"….hmph! A strain from inner Krozem. Is brighter, lives longer than Ducal rubori, doesn't spread like weeds. …I heard it tastes like nougat. Very strange, no?"

"Seriously?" Sobek smelt it again. Confused curiosity had overtaken the tiredness from his face. He bit into the leaf but immediately spat it overboard. He coughed. "Whoa! That's-that's that's way too sweet! Where in Krozem did you say these are from?"

Dimas shook his head. "One of the new northern states, not Gilded aligned. I know little, other than children eating their rubori. Make wooshing noises."

The cart turned onto one of the cobblestone paths and almost immediately there were the sounds of a small stampede below.

"Fausto! It's Fausto!" A child cheered. A chorus of other voices laughed behind his. "I dug up some rockroot for you, Fausto!" The numel huffed in interest and he fought against the reigns. The cart veered rightwards.

"No you didn't, I did! You just sniffed it out!" A second child said in a pout. The cart veered to the left.

"We all dug it up, Fausto!" A third mediated.

"Yeah! We all did!" The first butted back in. "Podemos alimentá-lo, Senhor Dimas?" Dimas nodded and cheers erupted below. David scrambled up the back of the seat to sit on the top, there was a crowd of seven children of different species and types all walking alongside the numel as it happily bit down on the dull, brown crystal.

Dimas grabbed David by the shoulder and pushed him back down into the seat proper. "A child is not a flowerpot. A child is a garden," he mumbled.

David shrunk.

"Senhor Dimas, quando tenciona Tio Seve voltar para casa?" The second voice asked.

"Yeah, when is he coming home? He's not dead, is he?"

"In two days, if not this evening, he will return. But he will need rest, and we must give it to him."

"And Glessy?"

"She… will need more time to recover."

"Told you they're not dead, dummy!"

"I am not a dummy! I'm…."

"Children, children," Dimas said with a patent sigh. "You spoil Fausto, but what of Ollie and Lino? He is quite ill and certainly could use a present."

"I knew we should have gotten stuff for them first!"

"But what does a Girafararaga like?"

"Rapidash, remember?"

"Oh, right!"

"I am not the one to ask," Dimas spoke before they could ask him. "Perhaps there is someone else much more knowledgeable in such matters nearby."

"Oh! Kasi will know! Obrigado, Senhor Dimas! Let's go!"

"But-but Kasimira is scary, can't we just go to the Library? The Librarian is way less scary and-and I want a book. Huh? …hey wait! Ahhh…! Rebanho! Es-espere por mim! Por miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim….!"

And then small stampede went off through neighborhood with one straggler scrambling to catch up.

Dimas shook his head. "Um jardim selvagem não pode ser cortado pelo desespero. Eu não vou fazer isso." He scowled. Fausto lowed happily and sped into a trot.

"Quando começamos a puxar ervas daninhas?" another voice spoke up. The wagon shifted, and suddenly there was an Ursarig on standing on the running board.

That's a huge bear. David was glad it was smirking in humor, but that still is a huge bear.

Dimas remained motionless. "Quando os prados se tornarão pedreiras apesar das orquídeas."

The bear's grin slid into a frown. "I'm not following you on that one."

"It means nothing to everyone. Apologies, I am late. I can only assume the Abbey Doctor is to blame."

The bear nodded, "Don't be too hard on him, he's our first line of defense against Groudon."

Dimas snapped alert. "I… pardon me! I did not realize the importance of an Abbey Doctor to the Square."

"Dimas, relax." The Ursarig clapped the Lombre's shoulder. "It was a joke."

"Pardon you then for taking your demons darkly." Dimas snorted. "lightly, I mean. No, hold—"

"You really don't know how to laugh, do you?" His eyes shifted to David. "So these are our heroes?" He squinted. "I had forgotten how small Cubone were. Look atcha! Teeny-tiny. David, was it? Good on you for having a good proper helm there. And Sobek? Greetings. Wasn't there a third?"

"Ai! Tsk-tsk!"

"Huhhh…." The bear pulled at his whiskers. "I should have known. The muted Minun, she shows up again in the strangest of places. Is this the first time you've actually made it into the Square before?" The Minun scoffed. He waved his thoughts away. "We've an hour or so still, Dimas, you've plenty of time, stew is still hot. I'd actually say it tastes better from the delay. I'll drop on by and introduce myself proper when Schwarz returns, give 'em the tour."

"Much appreciated, Valter."

The Ursarig nodded politely. "I would have picked up our heroes myself, but, well…"

"Janet?"

"Janet." Valter rubbed his eyes. "I've gone and lost track of her again, today of all days and with tomorrow?" he sighed. "I don't know if she really understands what that means for us. She hasn't been here for one before."

"I assume she still has the wool hood?"

"What are you—oh. Oh! Hah!" Earnest slapped the wall of the cart. David and Sobek teetered. "That's good, that's very good! Yes! We're all still trying to keep the wool over her eyes. Those three—ehh, the Minun can't actually say much, can she? I need to go find her before she gets into more trouble."

"Um! Question?" David piped up.

"Oh, have you picked the worst time for them!" Valter laughed. It was deep, rich and genuine, and the cart again rocked as he did so. "I am the Triangle's mayor, I'll answer them later. Right now, ah, how to say it. No, actually, you'll just be squared away inside so there's really no issue, is there? Hah! Now, pardon me, but I've a Façade to chase down. And she's way too fast for her own good." The cart lurched and the bear was gone.

David looked to Sobek and found him frowning in thought, "There's a country called the Masquerade, an eastern country of the Krozem continent. I think I've been there? No, don't give me that look. The place is literally called the Masquerade, the 'the' is part of the name; it's so foggy you have no idea where you are. Also, all the dungeons there around its borders have their exits on the far side of the country. …or maybe I got them backwards and the Façade is the country and Masquerade is its capital—anyway, it's very hard to get into it and a lot of it looks like other places in the world. Right, Dimas?"

"Krozem is beyond my knowledge or care." The cart stopped at the stable doors of a building much, much larger than any of the others they've passed since they entered the forest. "What I do care about is how it pains me that Seve is not the one to welcome you to his home. But, I pass along his hospitality as my own: hundreds of years ago, if not thousands, these roads used to be the original Town Square of this city. It since has grown out and away from its roots and now holds the humble home of my brother and I.

"Welcome to Little Tapio. Or, as we call it, the Triangle."

With a bow, Dimas hopped off the cart and set about unlocking the doors. David glanced around, they were still among the trees, but they were thin enough for him to see the wall go up and up and up and that's not just the wall that is the Dawnfall spire's base within a stone's throw. Or a few stone's throws. More than a few.

They were right up against the eastern edge of the city.

"Uh, thanks," Sobek said since David was busy getting dizzy at how high the spire went. "But, err, why do you keep calling it the Triangle?"

"In Seve's own words?" Dimas turned. He was grinning. He was grinning far too much and was holding back far too much laughter. "It is because Commoner's Square is awfully round, is it not?"

David caught Sobek's unsure glance with his own.

"Now then! Now then, allow me to invite you inside for a well-earned dinner. It is the least I can do for the ones that rescued my brother. Oh, how it is but very least I can do."

It took a long moment for David to remember that Seve was some sort of representative of his home country—Minister, was it? He… never did ask Seve what that actually meant, did he? The echo in his head agreed with 'representative.' But then it pinged 'Bishop'.

Chall called himself a Bishop, which meant that was an Abbey title, and David had the impression that Seve wasn't exactly fond of the Abbey.

He went with representative. The sheer size of the house convinced him. David would be quite ecstatic living in a place as large as just the stable. Fausto had more than enough space in his pen, even if he was asleep on his feet the moment he entered. The gate closing behind him sent him falling onto his front but he didn't seem to mind.

Lino and Ollie slept on their side in the next pen over. Both of their rear legs were in heavy splints. The Minun joined him in looking through the slats on the gate.

In all seriousness, David really just helped to keep everything off the wagon; they still had to pull the thing. It was a miracle they only got hurt when the wagon fell apart in the Square. A good long life in retirement might be the best for them, if they could ever regain the legs to stand for it. But David doubted they could pull anything again.

There were two other unused pens, and space for four wagons. There was a pair of tracks worn into the brick floor leading up to one of them. Dimas had pushed his one opposite it.

David turned away, but the Minun refused to budge from Lino and Ollie's stable. She ground her teeth and pushed him off her elbow, her face twitching in anger under glossy eyes. She quickly found a compromise with her thoughts through a scowl and let David pull her along without further sound.

The team was led into the house proper, into a moderately sized room. Moderately sized room for Dimas—it was absolutely gigantic to David. His legs moved him towards the darkened fireplace and nevermind the stable, David could live in that fireplace and be absolutely content with life. He could stretch out in that thing and not even touch any of the walls. The hearth was big enough to fit anything else he'd need: table, chair, desk—all his size, of course. There was even space for a small cooking fire! Why weren't Cubone part fire-type, anyway? Stick a flame on his tail and he'd easily be a Charmander, asleep in a crackling fire.

In all seriousness, that was a good thought though. Why hadn't a fire pit for his house crossed his mind yet anyway? Sure, he could stick it anywhere in it now and the smoke won't be a problem, but those cracks need to be fixed sooner, not later. Making an actual fireplace now would make things far easier down the road. His house would look good with a chimney. It'd actually look like a house then.

He'd need to get these tiles for his house too. Fired clay of sorts, about his height squared. They felt incredibly sturdy under his feet. So completely unlike that fake stone in the pavilion. And they were this great earthen black cloth covered his face "Take these and put them under your scarves. Right now. Right now!"

"Mmt—mmt! Off!" the Cubone gasped, prying himself out from Dimas' grip and away and onto his back.

"Dimas, aren't these thngh—"

Thud.

David threw off the fabric launched to his feet—Sobek was on the floor, hands on his face. Minnie immediately skidded in front of him, entire face sparking, snarling. Dimas stepped back. His arm wound back again.

"Dimas—what—" The whirl surprised him—claws bounced off his helm. That would have gotten his eye if he was any closer! "What are you—"

"Quiet!" Dimas hissed. His eyes narrowed as they darted between the two. He skittered back a few steps. "You will each be quiet! …not a word. Not a single word. Not now, and not a single word of what these truly are." He licked his lips anxiously. He stepped towards David, the Minun pulled the Cubone behind her. Sparks bounced between her cheeks and her hands and the stone floor. "Listen once, and never again say. Not to me. Not to each other. Most of all, not a single word to Seve. I am ashamed to call myself his brother after all the horrible things I have done to make him believe these were lost. None can know. Do you understand me? Do you understand me!? None can know!"

His eyes darted between the three of them. He was panting, panting in genuine fear but, no, not from them. His eyes were too wild, too unfocused for anything in the room. The Minun's sparking dimmed as she balked—she had picked up on it as well. David patted her arm. She nodded and dropped the sparks to dart back to help Sobek to his feet. She had yet another oran in hand. The Totodile large couldn't look away from the large amount of red on his hand.

"David, I'mmmmmahah. Aha. Ha. hahhahaaaa..."

David spun on his heel and the Minun whirled forwards again over his tail. Lightning cracked into spheres around her hands, snapping louder than a Minun cheer had any right to be. They even almost muffled her snarls.

Dimas didn't seem to realize he was backing away but the Minun seized any ground she was given.

Three lines of red flowed over the square of Sobek's jaw and fell to the floor in steady drops.

"Minnie, how many orans do you have under that hat?" The Minun shook her head and handed back a cup of water and washcloth, hands sparking despite them. David didn't care how she found them so fast or where she learned how to look terrifying while still looking so concerned. The small glances she was giving them over her shoulder snapped from a rage to worry to fury again so fast it was frightening in it's own way. "That's okay. Nothing too deep, nothing hit bone, no other injuries; just one will do stop this. Can you got Sobek?"

She nodded, the two spun around each other again.

Sobek bit into the oran, but his eyes were locked on his hand, blank and distant. Minnie dabbed at his wounds. He burst out giggling again.

David regained the ground Minnie bought with a sideways hop, and with a half-spin he gained an extra step. He drew his club with the motion and the metal rings thrummed. The sound made Dimas blink and he was in the room again.

Lotad's are very reliant on the water for their survival. Lombre, not so much. Their front and back sets of legs have developed into much more powerful arms and legs while the middle set was lost in evolution. This middling stage can have sharp claws and while the bite isn't strong, the point of the beak can be.

David postured himself low. "No. You understand me, Dimas. That's my friend you just attacked there. You drew blood, and you almost drew more. We're going to leave now."

Dimas held up the black cloth he had forced on David. He whispered something.

"We're going to leave, Dimas." The Cubone repeated firmly. He began to edge his way toward the stable, the one door he knew that ultimately led to the outside. Chase Dimas back to the side and away from it and they'd be good as gone.

"This is a Shade Scarf," Dimas hissed, barely any louder. David hesitated. "A cloth that muddles any thoughts a Psychic holds you to. Wear one, and they sense you as dark-type unless they lay their own eyes upon you. Unless they break through its barrier with exact focus, your thoughts are barred from their passive prying. The cloth does not make you immune, the Psychics merely need to work harder."

He shuffled closer. David backed away, giving ground, retreating to his allies, club winding back, shifting low on his right leg. Not too far, keep that escape route open!

Lotad's have six legs; Lombre have four and two anomalies in their ribcage, the remnants of the middle hip. The leg joints, now half-formed and missing the casing of the socket, they're two big holes in the ribs. Lombre instinctively posture themselves to protect the closer of the false-sockets but fall easily to feints on the further. This one is not very old, evolved in the past eighteen months by the coloring of its lily pad. The ribs wouldn't have reformed themselves, though instincts most likely have been tempered against bluffs. Right at where the lighter markings end on its sides, that's where the phantom leg will be.

That's where David needs to strike.

David spun the point of the club forward.

"These though—these though! …they are cut from a very, very different cloth. Perhaps… perhaps from the very lord of nightmares. No, hold. I choose the wrong words again. They do not hold that sheer strength; perhaps his handkerchief then? These. Unless a psychic commits their entire will towards their effort, your mind is sealed. Moreover, you will know. You will know."

David glanced down to the swath of cloth Dimas was holding. It was a faded gray, the edges tattered, and whole thing incredibly thin. Thin enough that it should be see-through, but it wasn't. "What's your point, Dimas, why the secret? Why did you attack Sobek?"

Dimas laughed. It was uneven and broken with sharp wheezes. "Ask yourself—ask yourself, David! What bandit cares if their motives are known? What bandit, who on their mind in the middle of a slaughter would be dwelling on things other than the rush of the battle, the trill of killing the defenseless, and the gold to be reaped from their corpses? What else would possibly be on their mind?"

The Minun hissed. David chanced a glance back, she was frowning but nodding. Worse, David agreed with her.

"Are you saying those weren't just bandits then?"

"I do not know. I do not want to know. Most of all, I do not want my brother to have even the chance to know that he does not know that he could, indeed, know." Dimas looked away, his eyes glancing through the wooden walls. "Months. Mere months. He cannot be consumed by this…."

If David didn't know any better, he'd think Dimas was the one that came under attack days ago. He's hyperventilating, cradling own his arm like it was injured and—and his guard wasn't even towards David, but readied to slash at something that could burst through the walls at any moment. Or wave off Seve who could return at any moment.

So Dimas does know how frustrated Seve is, how useless he feels about this. These scarves, they're like the most tangible thing that Seve needs to start putting all the pieces together. He's the Minister—whatever that means, but he has to have some connections somewhere somehow. That's even without going to the teams he supplies. That's even without the, er, Illuminate-o thing that boisterous Pokemon spoke of earlier.

If Seve just knew about these scarves, then he'd have some means to actually do something! The first clue to get him on track and get some sort of vengeance for his friends, for his apprentice, and stop whatever this group was before they hurt someone else! And to finally put himself at ease.

Dimas had two scarves here, one from the Monferno and… and the other must be the one Sobek pulled off the Cyndaquil before he lost track of it in the smoke. Seve just needs one, and maybe that's enough to identify the bandits? By these Shade Scarves?

These… stronger than normal Shade Scarves. If every member of the bandits had these more powerful Shade Scarves, how would they have gotten them in the first place? If it's as powerful as Dimas says and as uncommon as he's implying… well, it'd either be rather expensive or rather well protected.

Both of those options, well, both elevate this group from being just bandits.

That must be what Dimas realized. They must be something bigger, like some sort of evil Team? Heartless mercenaries? Marauders?

…marauders are above bandits right, it sounds weirder so it has to be.

But Seve got away from them.

They all got away, somehow.

…some of them got away, somehow.

If Seve started hunting them, they would certainly come after him again and they wouldn't let him be as lucky next time. …and that's what Dimas is afraid of, isn't it?

He's just afraid. That's just all there is to it. He's just so incredibly, incredibly afraid for his own brother's sake and is going about the worst way to do it. Dimas just doesn't want his brother to get hurt again, enough to attack someone he's trying to seek help from.

David sheathed his club in his coat's rings on the fifth try.

"Okay." He finally said but kept a hand on his club. "We won't tell him. I don't like what you're doing. I don't like that you attacked my partner. But Sobek and I consider Seve our friend. We'll hide the scarves, but only because I don't want to see him on another burning cart. Even if it's not going to be easy."

Dimas' eyes snapped into focus and he suddenly was in the room again. He glanced over it wildly. "Ah. You forget. The only gem the Meowth does not see, or remember, is the one it carries."

"...hidden in plain sight, right under its nose." Over its nose. "Why not just burn them?"

Dimas' shaking stilled and the frantic fear on his face solidified into a blank stoicism.

"Fate alone has neither a blade so sharp nor a care so precise to weave such a tapestry around the solidary skull of a Cubone. And so, I betrayed my brother, and hid these scarves away from him and his petty vengeance. It is more proper to use piece of the cloak to seal and keep its master at bay." He turned and walked away. "And far, far away from the looms of own nightmares."

"Away from your own—Dimas, what does that mean? Dimas? Dimas!"

But the Lombre had already disappeared through the door by the fireplace.

David turned to his friends but the Minun was squinting, her face forced into a focused frown as she washed off the final bits of blood off Sobek's jaw. Sobek was still locked looking at his hand. Minnie shuffled to put her back fully to David.

"I don't understand. What—"

Kah. Kahah! The only nightmare worth fearing is the one still felt during the morning. Worry not, worry not…. ...though the more pressing horrors of the moment are those forced upon you by that infernal tailor….

"I… what—I don't get it. It was just a nightmare, one I don't even remem… ber."

David, if you're going have nightmares like that, warn me. Geez.

Geeeuuughhh.

I… remember something, something telling me stuff. What to do? I'm not sure what and I don't remember any of it, but… it didn't feel like a nightmare.

...that's probably for the best.

"B-but—warn? What does that even mean? You and Seve, why aren't you just telling me what happened, what is about this nightmare that you are all so afraid of? 'Looms of our own nightmares'— what does that even mean?

"Looms make fabric, not dreams—literally, I mean. David, we're not talking literally—but then whoever—whatever is giving me these dreams, they'd just give them to someone else who doesn't have a scarf! That's not even a seal then, it's a charm, a ward, a-a talisman! It'd… it'd be a…."

…must have actually nodded for an entire minute then. The Minun snores, by the way.

I'd rather you not fall asleep while we move through the wards.

"Charm. It'd be a charm if protected me. It's not a charm, not like this."

David picked up the Shade Scarf.

It was three of his arm-spans, a hand-width wide, and smooth. Unnervingly smooth. Smoother than the silk of the bed he woke up on a few hours ago, slippery even. The ends hung in the air long after he had moved it. He let go, and it only fell a minute later.

A pull at his own scarf had it undone and in his hands. He spread it down on the floor and folded the Shade Scarf into it. It added nothing to his scarf's bulk. No one could know it was there.

Shopping list.

Paint, clay, medical supplies, food, needle and thread.

The scarf doesn't stop the nightmares from happening to him.

The scarf stops them from getting out.