"What?!" Vallon shouted. "Since when… are we leaving?"

"You heard what I said," Prince answered roughly. "Yes. We're leaving. By the end of the week, I expect to be rid of this place."

Vallon and Legend stood there in the main corridor of their team's quarters, confronting their leader. They gaped in disbelief, unable to conjure any sort of response.

Just moments ago, it had been a standard day for Team Flamewheel. Legend and Vallon had just returned from a two-day post in Iron Town just the previous evening, and had set their sights on preparing for their next task: they were to be exploring a newborn dungeon, formed in the core of a humid jungle many miles off. They had spent the day gathering notes on this area, and recruiting the help of several grass-typed Pokémon to their effort. They'd just enjoyed a pleasant meal with their colleagues, at which Arrow the Grovyle from Team Absolution had signed on to their task, and were heading back to their planning room and looking forward to organizing their supplies for the mission…

…And then, Legend happened to overhear a conversation Prince was having with Canniah…

And now they stood incredulously before the Infernape who lead their team, surrounded by all the comforting, luxurious things they took for granted—the vivid red carpets depicting the glory of fire Pokémon, the dozens and dozens of ghastly torches lining the walls, the gold-polished furniture… wondering why they had to give it all up. Wondering if their journey to Folly Jungle would indeed be their last among what had become their beloved home…

"I don't understand," Vallon finally said with a cutting edge to his voice. "You—you're disbanding us from the division? You… want us to become independent?"

"Yes," Prince responded, nodding confidently. "That would be the case… If Lucario rejects us. We will first apply for a post at the Emerald Division, and hope they will give us quarter there."

Again, a tense, burning silence between the Infernape and his two team members lingered through the hall. The Rhydon's rage grew as his mind circled with questions and implications, and the eyes of the Ninetales glazed over as he wondered whether or not he'd been displaced into a different team, as this was not the Prince he knew. It was the unity, the brotherhood of Team Flamewheel that they were always on the same page as one another, always acting as one entity, never changing the plan without a thorough and intelligent consultation… And to have Prince make this declaration, this decision, without so much as the consent or even the knowledge of the rest of the team… It made him begin to feel weak, a little part of his status quo shattered to pieces…

"My Prince… is it… is it something we've done? Something the Division… has done? I don't understand… where has this decision come from? Speak to us; what is the reason?"

Prince glanced for a moment into the eyes of the Ninetales, then turned his gaze back onto the floor. His flames wavered strangely.

"What if I were to tell you there is no reason?" Prince questioned oddly, but still confidently. "What then, Legend? Would you desert me and leave the team to remain here?"

"Of course not, my Prince," Legend managed to gasp out. "I will remain…"

"And you, Vallon?" Prince questioned him, looking into his eyes.

"You need me," Vallon answered strongly. "Without me, this team doesn't have a chance. You'd never pull off another Barricade."

"Yes… that much has been established…" Prince trailed off before a slight pause. "This team needs all seven of us if we are ever to pull off another Barricade. The truth is that… there is a reason… but I haven't decided what it is yet. As of now, there is only the decision."

Vallon stamped his foot in rage, rattling the nearby torches and almost knocking them over. "I have a better question," he boomed. "Why were we not involved in this 'decision'? I have responsibilities to this place, as a matter of fact. There are promises I have made! Scythe has been speaking of returning to the Basin Canyon, right? Well, he invited me to help next month. And Syr invited me to help with a training mission nine days from now. And not to mention Legend here… he has…"

"Yes," Legend interrupted, cutting him off. "I don't think Team Stripes will be pleased to hear that the Tale of the Needles will never be finished. Not to mention the rest of the Division. My Prince… surely you can tell, we are not an insignificant presence here. We have done much. We will be missed here! Alakazam will be dismayed to hear of this."

"There, you have answered your own question," Prince grumbled. "See, because, if I would have placed the issue on the table, the six of you would have rebuked it in whatever ways you could think of. You would have done everything in your power, used every word in your vocabulary necessary to make sure it would not come to pass. I'm sorry, but… it is something I cannot allow. This is something which needs to be done. I need you to trust me."

Legend was dumbfounded. He took a step backward, letting his head nod quietly. Vallon growled wordlessly.

"I'm sure it can't be too hard to cancel a few invitations," Prince barked, anger seeping into his voice. "We've done more difficult things, have we not?"

"Yes, my Prince," Legend said quietly, bowing his head. "We have."

"Hmm. At any rate, enjoy your mission," Prince said with unsubtle sarcasm. "Give yourself a good lasting impression of this place, if you must. And… tell no one else. I will tell the others when I am ready. Understand?"

"What about the other teams?" Vallon demanded. "When will you tell Team Absolution? Team Remorse? High Intelligence, huh? When will they know?"

"They will know," Prince replied, "only once we are long gone."

There was a sudden clanking of rocks as Prince disappeared into his room, closing the door forcefully behind him. Stifling a roar, Vallon stormed off. Legend remained standing for a moment with a hanging jaw, as if deciding what to say to the empty air.

---

Prince sat in the corner of his room, the light of his bedside pyre at the other end glaring in his eyes. His gaze was intense, calculating; his mind raced with thoughts, doubts, and many unknowns…

But his heart was still. Fixed in place. Frozen.

Life in the resistance, by its very nature, was never easy. Nor would this be. It didn't take an Alakazam to guess that every other Pokémon he considered a companion would disagree with him. Why wouldn't they? They had every reason to. The Gold Division was a respectable, fully functional place, and several of its members, including perhaps himself, were legends incarnate… In fact, just earlier that day, he'd run into Daemon from Team Remorse in the hall, who had congratulated him on his previous victory.

"You have done well," the hound had said. "But, in time, I have come to expect no less. It is an honor to have you as an ally. May your fire always burn brightly."

It was curious; Daemon was not the social type, nor did he commonly give out complements. In fact, the Houndoom was most of the time quite a disagreeable, stern Pokémon, tasked with keeping his leader's thoughts in line when they would fall astray. But even he had acknowledged the good work Team Flamewheel had done, for whatever reason…

Yes, he knew: there was no sane reason to give up his current, well-deserved post. None at all. But… then, in that case, why was he doing it?

"Never, in my entire life, have I been as sure of something as this," Prince muttered. "Not when I formed this team, not when we built the barricade. I realize that I have never before known true certainty… not until now. Yet… such a certain emotion on such flimsy reasons… how will I expect any others to understand me? No one will see things the way I do…"

"I understand," said a soft voice from nearby.

Prince turned his head, lending his gaze to Canniah. She sat beside him, lending him the company he desired.

"You don't," Prince grumbled. "I don't believe you."

"I don't understand your reasoning, no," she admitted, staring him in the eyes. "But I know what it's like to be certain of something beyond the shadow of a doubt. It burns."

Yes, he knew, it did burn. He nodded.

"Perhaps it is how we have become complacent," Prince speculated. "Maybe that's what bothers me. If we are comfortable and happy all the time, our fire weakens, our status quo becomes corrupted… we lose sight of the war, the bigger picture… Maybe…? Why, how can I attempt to explain this… it's a calling, and it struck hard and fast… I feel as if I have been enraptured by The Call…"

"Maybe Arceus is just trying to tell you something," Canniah said, approaching him and gently nuzzling him on the chest. "Maybe Lucario really does need us more than we're needed here. Maybe that's where your destiny really is."

"Maybe," Prince sighed, reaching up his hand to stroke the fur behind her ear. "But just as well, it could be my own pride speaking… even so, I can't question it. I can't deny it… even if I should be questioning it, I can't… But what do I do, Canniah? I cannot mind control another Pokémon… how will I get them to see this? Will they still trust me after this?"

"I know they will," Canniah assured him. "We would follow you to the end of the earth, Prince… For better or for worse, we're here… Just follow your heart, and we'll be there with you."

Follow your heart. How many times had he heard that phrase? In every children's story, at least. Half the time, it was the moral of the story whenever Legend would lend himself to entertain the training teams with his fairy tales…

But as he sat there, his thumb absently tracing circles through the Arcanine's furry mane, he wondered… was his heart really to be trusted?

---

Through the darkness of uncertainty,
Through the troubled pangs of grief and fear,
Through the ashes of defeat, and shame,
Though everything is gone…
There shines a blazing candle-flame
to light the way another day
And, so, we carry on.

End of Verse 1