New chapter. I have lost a bit of confidence though so don't be too harsh

I don't own Pokémon or its characters

Chapter 23: Going home

May and Arden followed the direction they were pointed in. First it seemed ridiculous as there were quite a few docks. But at some point they heard a man yelling. They looked at each other and shrugged: it was worth a shot.

They followed the wooden planks over the water, guiding Blaziken and Umbreon by the hand. They had silently decided that it was safer to walk as they could give the two horses an optical focus point. There were a lot of people passing them on the docks, often with full hands and they had to be careful to not bump into anyone.

At a certain point they had reached the end of the wooden platform above the water and a large bulky man was vehemently discussing something with another man, wildly gesturing at a creature that was so stooped and pitiful looking that only after a moment's look May recognized as an actual human being.

He was bared above the waist and barefooted. He looked a bit older than Arden but it couldn't be much more than that. His hair, ashen blond, hung in his eyes and he refused to look up.

Finally the discussion between the two men seemed to have ended and the larger of the two called over some nearby guards and told them something in the national language. The two guards, wearing pale brown tunics, belts with swords around their waists and arms wrapped with leather, grabbed the poor man May had been staring at and shoved him roughly towards the left dock the T-point they stood on pointed out.

Arden didn't need to tell May that what she just had witnessed had been the selling of a slave into the galleys. The slave wasn't even struggling and May wondered if he thought it was even worth the effort.

She wouldn't find out because the seller had slinked off and the man with the loud voice and the burly stature was visible to them. He was wearing a tunic of the same color as the two guards but it was embroidered with gold threads and something told May that whatever he did paid well.

His face was clean-shaven but it did him no good in attractiveness. He had low-slanted eyes and his nose looked as if he had gotten a shovel to the head. He was by no means a good-looking man. He was putting something away in a small pouch around his middle and then looked at them ominously. "Fer!?" he asked angrily,

Arden stepped forward. "We are here for information," he said.

The man raised a brow, "Why would I help two strangers like you," he looked pointedly at May. "One of which is a woman?" he asked. His voice was gruff and deep: Suha's accent sounded in his speech too but whereas the headmistress had sounded sultry this man sounded retarded as if he was unsure of his words.

May saw an intelligent spark in his eyes, so despite that he came across as a moronic brute, she knew they should be careful. Arden was aware of this as well apparently since he got out the scroll they had gotten from Suha. "We want to find a slave sold by headmistress Suha. Here's your why," he said and handed the man the scroll.

The man scanned the paper quickly and narrowed his eyes. "Such a long time too. Rotten woman," he muttered. Then he raised his head again. "Ge!" he snarled to one of the other men standing by: this one was carrying a stack of scrolls. "Der fets lazketen, mit nortrondere dersta," he ordered. The man scurried away quickly and the big man turned back to May and Arden.

He scoffed seeing their questioning gazes. "I ordered him to get the records of that day. You can't expect met to remember every slave and every transaction." He gestured with his hand to the ships. "I trade a lot of slaves every day."

May didn't want to question any further. She was quite aware of what this meant. And it made her sick. Of course, if humans were sold as goods, there were traders to sell them.

The man he had sent away returned carrying instead of a stack of papers just one scroll. "Ah, yes," the trader muttered, scanning the paper, incidentally checking the other paper Suha had provided. "I see," he said as he rolled the scroll back up. "The man you are looking for was sold to a trading ship that traded on the Woodsland Gulf."

May recognize the name, even if she had never been there. It was the water found in the mass between Kamesh and her country, north-west of Kamesh's desert. The name was derived from the forest area that bordered between the water and the mountains. She was also familiar with the furious storms that haunted those waters and the treacherous rocks.

"Well, where is it now then?" Arden asked urgently.

The man raised a brow: "It sunk last winter," he said easily.

"No survivors?" Arden asked hoarsely, for once looking as distressed as May felt.

The trader seemed to have reached the end of his patience: "The slaves are bound with metal, did you think there were any?" he snapped.

But May already didn't hear him anymore, "How dare you!" she hissed. "How dare you ask so easy? That slave was my fiancé!"

The man merely seemed amused by her, "And I should care? Just marry another, missy?" Despite having trouble with their language, the trader apparently had no trouble speaking harsh words.

May snapped up her head, "That man was the general of my country! I am the princess, I am May!"

She no longer cared who heard her: rather, let them hear her! Let them hear her grief, let them hear her rage! Let them know the wrong they had done her. "May!" Arden tried to keep her back but it was as if a switch had been flipped. Anything was better than that all-consuming void. And then May didn't see the trader anymore, nor the people that were staring at her. All she could see was the endless blue sea that had taken her lover from her.

"Drew!" she yelled as she ran out to the edge of the dock. She didn't even register Arden holding her back, suddenly afraid she'd do something stupid. "You promised!" she screamed. "You promised to come back to me! Drew!" An ugly sob rose up from her throat and she slumped in Arden's arms.

"You said you'd marry me! We'd grow old together! You can't leave me alone!" she sobbed. Arden held on tighter to her when she surged again. "Drew! Drew!" she yelled in her furious struggle. "Come back to me!"

"Drew!"

"Drew!"

With a jolt, Drew woke up. Confused he looked around: he was still in the bumbling cart going back to Fern and Loua's house.

The market had ended.

"Did any of you call my name?" he asked warily.

Fern and Reod looked back at him from the box. "No?" Reod answered, but it sounded like a question.

But Drew shook his head, "No, I thought... never mind." He didn't want to worry them even more. He knew he had been acting off these last few days. He slumped back against the stack of furs they had traded. It was by far the softest of the things to sit against.

Fern had already turned back to the road, but Reod eyed him critically, "If you say so," he said slowly.

Drew refused to meet his gaze. It had been stupid to ask them anyway: the voice that had shouted his name had been female: a distressed female voice. He clenched his eyes trying to remember what he had been dreaming about but he drew up a blank. Even though he was curious why the female was shouting his name and why she was distressed, Drew was hit with a wave of homesickness.

He wasn't sure of what but he did know that the voice had everything to do with it. He did also know that it also had everything to do with the voice. He did also know that it had everything to do with his wiped memory. He let out a slow breath opening his eyes again. He hadn't decided what to do to be honest.

He wanted to stay with Fern and Loua, but he was afraid of his past. He thought about leaving but even if it was the fairest to do, Drew didn't want to become a wanderer. The man of the market came to mind: he didn't want that.

He watched the gold leaves fall. Soon it'd be winter again. He'd been with the elderly couple for a year by then. He felt good with the two, but thinking back to his talk with Reod he might not really belong. The long knife had felt good in his hand.

It was easy to stay but his gut told him that that wasn't all to his life. The voice had called his name: did she need him? And why? Was it imagination? A memory?

Drew wanted answers but he wasn't sure he'd like them. What if he had hurt the woman? Drew didn't think he'd ever harm a defenseless woman. Had he done her wrong? Did she, at one time, belong to him? Was she another's now?

This thought, even if he had never had met this woman or knew who she was, felt like a stone in his stomach. The person behind the voice needing him was a good thought. It filled him up with warmth. He couldn't remember feeling it before but it wasn't unfamiliar.

With that he closed his eyes. Soon they'd be back at the house. Loua's have them prepared something good and they'd sleep early. Then the next morning they'd wake up to prepare the fields for winter. And then…

Drew didn't know what came after that. And that effectively removed the good feeling. If he was truly honest, he didn't see himself do this year after year. Unlike Reod, he hadn't found his place yet.

"We're almost there," Fern's grumble came. Reod made a noise that showed his pleasure at that but Drew felt oddly sad: it was good being on the road. But he didn't let it show.

"Boys!" An elated Loua greeted them, her hands covered in white powder that Drew strong suspected was for baking. "Did you bring back the threads I asked for?" she asked Fern.

The man grunted as he nuzzled her cheek, not at all embarrassed to show affection for his wife in front of the two young men. "I'm not even inside yet, love," he replied. The soft note in his voice betrayed that he too had missed his spouse. Drew and Reod smirked at each other: it was always amusing how Loua could pull things like that from the gruff man.

The two jumped off the cart and helped bring in the stuff they had bought: furs, metals and colorful fabrics and of course the threads Loua had requested. Most of it they stored in the storage behind the cooking area. It was between the big storehouse and the living area.

It didn't take long to put it all away: most of the money they earned was meant to get through the year.

"Now," Loua said, "It's time to get you three some food." She pinched Reod's cheek who looked torn between amusement and annoyance. "You look as if you haven't had a decent meal in days!"

"I didn't starve them!" Fern argued, but Loua silenced him with a look.

"And tell me all you have experienced."

Fair enough, Loua had whipped up some beefy broth. Drew had yet to eat something that he disliked of Loua's cooking and this was no exception. First Fern told his wife of what they had earned and she seemed content enough.

Then Reod told the woman of how they had encountered the robbers and Drew felt himself tense up. "Oh my!" Loua exclaimed. "Were you alright?"

Reod nodded. "Yeah. Actually," he frowned, "Drew protected us."

Loua's brows rose: "He did?" she asked and Drew wondered if he should feel insulted. He let it slide: it wasn't meant badly. "But the robbers in this area are vicious. How did you do that?" The question was meant for Drew, but Drew had no answer and just shrugged.

Reod answered in his stead. "He just picked up this big ass knife and went on like a master swordsman: as if he has done it the whole of his life. The robbers just didn't stand a chance!" He sounded a lot more enthusiastic than Drew felt about it.

Loua looked at him for a moment not saying anything. Then she sighed: "Well, I am just glad you are alright," she said. Then she looked at the tired faces of the males. "And I think sleep will do you all good. Drew, would you help me clean this?"

It was normal that one of the two youngsters helped her clean the cutlery but from her pointed look, Drew could easily figure out she had not missed his tension and he nodded. Fern and Reod quickly left the kitchen to get some easy rest and Drew stacked the plates to bring them to the bucket of water they had for that purpose.

"Are you alright, Drew?" Loua asked softly.

Drew thought about lying but the woman was perceptive if anything. "I guess," he said, "Just a bit bothered."

Loua blinked, "Because of what you can do?" she asked. When he nodded she said: "I see. What is it that bothers you the most?"

Drew rinsed off the plates silently, "How can I do all that?" he finally said. "And what did I do with it?"

Loua looked contempativily for a moment, "You are afraid you did bad with it then," she made her conclusion from Drew's silence. "But Drew, instead of an attacker, you could also have been a defender. You can do more than bad with extraordinary swordsmanship."

Drew didn't reply. It could be like that, but there were so many things to consider. Loua smiled and patted his cheek: "Don't make hasty decisions dear. We are happy to have you here."

When Drew finally caught sleep, he felt a bit more peaceful.

"Come on, May. It's time to go."

May didn't know how long she had bent here sitting on her knees. It was already twilight when Arden gently shook her shoulder. "Just a bit," she murmured.

Arden shook his head, "It wouldn't bring him back, May. It's time to go home."

May felt her eyes burn but tears wouldn't come: she had cried them all. She didn't want to believe it: she had travelled for almost a year only to find out Drew was…gone?! She couldn't even bear to think the word.

"Drew wouldn't want you to weep for him, May," Arden said, crouching next to her, staring at the water.

May felt her throat choke up: "He was your friend, Arden. How can you continue like he was never there?" she asked.

Arden snorted, "I am not pretending to be sad, because I am. It was will stay hurting for a little while, catching you unaware at times."

May looked at her protector: he wore a self-depreciating smirk, and May could see that this wasn't the first time had lost a friend. "How do you continue?" she asked. "I don't want to accept he's gone. It hurts, Arden."

Arden sighed, "It will stay hurting. But don't let it cripple you. Drew wouldn't want that. We have to live for him."

May didn't reply, she couldn't. This feeling paralyzed her. Living for Drew? How could she do that?

"Come on, May," Arden said, "Let's go home"

And with that, May grabbed his hand that he had put out for her to haul her up. Suddenly she was tired, tired of the sea wind. Tired of the hot sand, tired of the dragging aura. She longed for green fields and blue lakes. She longed for the cool protecting walls of her castle, her home and she wanted the meat on the fire at home, the songs in the halls.

"Yeah," she said as she looked up when Arden pulled. "Let's go home."

It was as if the horses shared their silent grief because they didn't make a sound. Arden guided them back the city in, stopping only once to buy proviand at an exorbitant price. It was late on the day but neither of them wanted to stay longer in this blasted city of clay and sand.

May let him do as he thought necessary. She didn't care: all she wanted was to go home. She didn't know what was waiting for her there but this city had taken Drew from her and she wanted nothing with it.

Arden checked once more the water and the food were secured safely and then got back on Umbreon. The city was dying: fewer people on the streets and they were able to pass easily through the streets. He looked at the young woman, worried about her silence. He'd expected her to cry longer, get angrier and scream more but he hadn't thought she'd retreat in herself.

They had to get out of here.

Arden looked around. The houses were getting lower, and indication they were almost at the edge of the city. He was disgusted with the place. He had known: seen even some of those practices these people did to others now that it was so close to him… He shook his head, praying Drew hadn't suffered too much.

Drowning was a horrible way to die.

Then he jolted: May! She wasn't covered! Two people escaping the city in the evening was already suspicious enough! But they had already reached and the guards were already nearing them; hands on their swords.

"Werde!" one shouted, signing for them to get off. Arden felt a moment of panic. If they got off and got searched, their weapons would get found!

Instead of getting home they would find out exactly how nasty the prisons here were.

But apparently, May was more fed up than he had suspected. Without hesitation she drew her sword and pointed it at the guards. The two males stopped in their approach and stared nervously at the point of her sword.

From her horse, May had a wider reach and a more powerful down stroke. But the fact that she was a woman confused the males: "I don't know what you just said," May said, her icy voice betrayed nothing but impatience. "But I am going to leave through that gate in a few moments."

The guards glanced at each other. "Pointing your weapon at guards is punishable," one guard said. He apparently spoke their language well enough and Arden was momentarily impressed with the education of this land.

"I don't care, I am leaving. You can let me or not," May replied.

The guard that had spoken raised his head, strengthened by his sense of justification. "I am afraid we will have to take you into custody."

Arden saw May clench her jaw and he reached for his sword himself. "I am going away from this place; either you let me or you will be a head shorter."

The men clearly didn't understand how real this threat was and didn't lower their swords. May didn't waste any more words and put her heels in Blaziken's sides and stormed towards the guards. Worried Arden followed her but there was no need. One of the guards ducked away from the storming horse, but the other bravely raised his sword.

May met him mid-air and sparks showed when the two metals clashed. The man had to put a step backwards to catch the brunt of the blow. He cursed in his own language, or it seemed like that from the harsh mutter.

May pulled the reins harshly and Blaziken turned back sharply. "Again?" she asked and Arden wondered whether he hadn't taught her too well. The man on the ground didn't meet her eyes but the other guard stared at her incredulously.

Then he narrowed his eyes and turned to Arden: "You accompany this…indecent hellcat?" he asked. Arden shrugged; he didn't really want to answer that.

But May had heard him and was pointing her sword at this throat, high from her horse. "You want to repeat that again?" she asked icily.

The man scoffed visibly in the dark: his cloth that shielded him against the sandy winds did not hide that. "Indecent hellcat!" he said vehemently. His eyes flitted from the sword to her face with distaste: "A woman wielding a weapon. It's nauseating."

May pressed her sword forward, the tip now touching skin. The man almost went cross-eyed. "You know what is nauseating?" she spat. "The way you treat your fellow humans! Enslaving people, forcing them to be anything but human: drive them to their death! You took my fiancé from me and I swear by god, if you don't let me go, I'll take your head!"

The man sputtered and that was the last thing he'd ever do. May had severed his head with a clean stroke and it rolled to stop before the feet of the other guard.

He was still on the ground. Arden thought him fairly young and judging from his pale and wide eyes, he had never seen a torso-less head before.

"Give Kamesh my regards," May spoke before turning Blaziken with a sharp tug.

Arden quickly followed her into the desert before her dust cloud disappeared in the darkness. "You know you might have started another fight," Arden told her quietly. "Drew's sacrifice might have been for nothing."

May didn't stop Blaziken but slowed down the pace. "I am not doing this for Drew. I am doing this for myself. Let them come," she spoke coldly. "I'll command our side myself: that is for Drew."

Dear lord, it is done. We're almost at the end of the story now. Just about 2 more chapters I think. A lot has happened in these few weeks so my delay was, though rude, excusable.

Leave me a review yeah?