It is easy to see Braviary from afar: he's the sad little lump on the edge of the old dock, sitting staring out in the sea with an empty look on his face. The guild's tower casts its gaze shining down on him like a beacon of shame.

This is the exact spot where Leon has first seen their target. Why Braviary would choose this place out of everywhere in Calico Town he doesn't know, what he can know is if anyone's secretly following them. He looks over shoulder. The guild casts its light into every nook, alleyway to reveal nothing. They're alone.

The old boards hold firm, but the sound they make with every step is nerve wracking. They creak all the way up until Leon stops.

Not even the sound of another creature approaching him from behind wrests Bravairy out of his stupor. Braviary looks dumbstruck. His eyes are empty, his beak is agape as he stares out at who knows what.

There's only the ocean out there; the stars, constellation and nearly full moon are almost blotted out by the intense light overhead. The water glitters like silver under the guild's watchful eye and stretches until it greets the sky.

Braviary takes a deep breath, as though only now noticing the Smeargle standing over his shoulder, and he mutters.

"I don't want to go."

"You're not going anywhere." Leon answers. "As a matter of fact, the only place you'll be going is back to the Tavern. You don't want to be out here in the cold. There is nothing here for you, Braviary."

"But I..."

He sounds like an overgrown child, muttering nonsense and begging to sleep in one place forever. Leon can't carry him, so there is no choice for him: it's convincing this codger to move or Braviary stays here until he keels over. Leon's always imagined he'd be a belligerent, angry drunk. He didn't think he'd be like this.

"Why don't you want to go then?" Leon stays right where he is, arms folding. "Is there something I should be aware of? We're still part of a team, whether we're official or not. We've had this conversation before. If it's too personal, then keep it to yourself."

"It's…It's not personal."

"Then what is it?" Leon asks.

Braviary's feathers fluff up, his breath quickens. Braviary looks much too weak to stand alone and instead looks behind him. His feathers are rustled, his eyes wide.

"Since we've got here I've had this sinking sensation at the back of my mind. I don't know what it is other than it's frightening, but I've come to accept it. It took that psychic fellow picking apart my head for me to realise what this thing is.

The bird turns around completely. A thin wooden railing props him upright, but he still very much looks like a straw doll. He seems unable to look anywhere other than dead forward.

"I'm gonna have to leave you sometime. This is what the feeling's trying to warn me about. I did it twice, maybe three times already. Whatever it takes for me to leave you, I feel like I'm gonna do it all over." Braviary trembles, taking in a breath. "I don't even know how old I am. I've been running…"

"...y'all wanna know why I drink as much as I do?"

It's a rhetorical question. Leon stays quiet.

"It's to forget."

It makes sense now. Braviary drank as much as he could, wandered into a dungeon, then woke up one day with nothing inside his head. The question is what he was trying to forget, and this was not Leon's to answer. There is still time to finish this investigation. When it's over, Braviary can freely walk away. No strings attached, nothing forcing him to stay. If he wants to move on and forget then Leon is not going to stop this bird from living this cyclical existence.

It almost feels wrong to help or console him. But Leon's got to get him through this wreckage of an investigation. He needs time to figure out this badge, Braviary needs time to figure himself out. They'll both win if Leon keeps him along.

Leon extends his hand, and Braviary takes it. Using his shoulders as a leverage, he's able to get this bird onto his talons. When both of his feet are on the ground the man doesn't let go. Braviary keeps to him like glue, sobbing ever so softly.

Leon doesn't fight it.

The second Braviary hits the bed he falls under a sleeping spell. The old man, having too much in this system and having done too much in a single day splays out over the blankets like a hatchling. Leon sees him grab a pillow, scrunch up in a burgundy-colored ball, and shut his eyes. Not even the sounds of music or the rabble of bar-dwellers stir him. Braviary is gone.

Leon stands there, waiting in their room till Braviary's gaping mouth lets out a horrible snore. It's loud and obnoxious, perfectly fitting for Braviary. Unless this was a drunk Bird's way of cracking a joke, then he is out cold.

Braviary wears his get-up to bed. The old man's hat is scrunched up over his scalp, his poncho's wrapped around him like a second blanket, and most notably his badge is still pinned to his chest.

So Leon inches forward, watching the Bird after every step made until his hands touch the cold metal of the badge. With a quick jostle or two the badge slips off with a silent clink and the slumbering Braviary is none the wiser. And with a badge in hand, Leon slips away.

Downstairs Prinn isn't sitting where he left them. He's taken the bowl as well as the bottles to the booth across from them to be in the company of the Sleepyhead. Who since Leon has left to deal with Braviary has not moved in the slightest.

He looks across the Tavern. It's the same crowd with the addition of a dopey-eyed Quagsire sitting with the Braixen and the obvious absence of Braviary. The water-type and their friend are still here, the tall former stranger smirks his way. Leon waves back, and then joins Prinn at his table.

"Hey!" Prinn looks up from his cup. Around him are the bottles of Aspear, Oran and what's left of Braviary's Enigma reserve. "You found him?"

Leon would've otherwise taken the opposite seat, but there's a giant Haxorus there. He settles for the one right of Prinn.

"He was out by the dock." Leon swipes the bottle of Aspear, and though bitter and harsh, it feels like paradise after dragging a big bird around. "He's fine, he just had a moment."

"Fine?" Prinn tugs on his cravat. Miraculously, no one's spilled wine on it yet. "He was crying earlier, didn't you notice? I could see the tears in his eyes!"

Okay, there's no way he didn't see something so obvious. He's a little drunk after all. Good going, Leon.

"Oh." Leon puts the bottle down. "I did hear him sniffing on the way back. It's not my business, I doubt he could give a straight answer in this state."

Speaking of answers, Braviary's badge is being kept under the table, out of sight from anyone who may be watching them. So the second Prinn looks at him with his big eyes begging to ask about Braviary, Leon drops the dreadful symbol onto the table. It makes a dense thud.

The two go silent.

"There was no way I could convince him to let go of this." Leon explains. "I'll put it back when we go upstairs later. We don't talk about this, understand?"

Leon looks at the little guy in the eye. Prinn accepts the terms with a nod.

"Good. Now…" Leon taps the badge, causing it to wobble briefly. "This thing?"

"Yeah?" Prinn asks. "That's a badge. Doesn't every guild's badge do something, did ya find out what it does or…?"

"I did see it do something." Leon recalls. "When Judeau, the local psychic, prepared our friend for his examination he had asked that he put everything metal aside. This included the badge. Mid-procedure the badge starts to shake, turning back and forth on a swivel. I swear the thing was pointing back to the tavern before it stopped when Bravairy woke up."

"Shaking?" A tiny sip from the glass seems to keep Prinn on track. "How bad was the shaking, was it about to blow up on you?"

"I'd hope not. A badge which explodes on you sounds counterintuitive." The Smeargle laughs. Imagine that: an exploding trap badge. "It could be fun to throw at someone. That aside, I think this badge is a warning system of some kind. It pointed at something this way, I'm sure of it."

"And it was shaking right before it pointed here? Like it took time to get rowing?"

They're talking in circles.

"Prinn." Leon sighs. "Spit it out, please."

"Well - um, when you were gone, and when you were here, uh.." He's tapping his flippers together again. It's obvious Prinn is extremely nervous. "She passed by."

A sinking feeling hits Leon like the arm of a Rydon. The hairs on his back stand, and his tail flicks like an agitated serpent. He grabs the bottle, takes a swig and everything cools down. Not another drop more, the Smeargle tells himself.

"And…" Leon rubs his temples. "What happened? Did she ask you anything?"

"Didn't say a thing to her, Leon."

The Smeargle breathes a sigh of relief. Prinn continues.

"It was like, an hour or more after you left? She kinda talked to me and I pretended not to hear her. She knew I wasn't sleeping but she didn't like, interrogate me about it." Prinn motions to the stage where the feathery bard strums and sings. "Halcion throws all her bottles up there, when she goes to pick one up she grabs her badge. Then boom, she takes off! Like she saw a ghost!"

Leon looks to the stairway, trying to imagine what lies beyond the market which would be so important. Maybe a meet up of some kind? An out of town job? The only building he knows on this side other than the numerous shops is The Emporium. And in turn, where else could Braviary's badge point other than the Hollow Dream's Tavern?

A freak coincidence, or a key to what this thing does. Leon takes a stab.

"Perhaps his badge warns its wearer of…" Leon's tail paints circles in the air. "...other badges? It pointed this way when Mienshao was around here."

"Okay, but wouldn't it have started rattling yesterday?" Prinn hums inquisitively. "Halcion's been snoozing right here and she's got a badge. There's all sorts of adventurers who visit the market, so what gives?"

"Well of the two adventurers we know visit, one is always in here. Fill in the blanks, Prinn."

"If it doesn't detect badges, then how about uh… threats?" Prinn's crossing out an imaginary list. "Maybe he's scared of you know who?"

The thought of clearing an exhausting dungeon only to be met with her staring him down was terrifying. As it should. Skilled adventurers have reputations for a reason, and he'd be little more than another bandit to her: a C-Rank bounty at best.

"Ask him later." He looks away, and blindly reaches for the badge.

But instead of the cold metal of a badge his hands wrap around a pair of deadly claws where it should be. A shiver shakes his shoulders as he turns to face a Haxorus. Her red eyes convey a malice only matched by ferals and dungeon-crazed madmen.

Her grip tightens. She could probably crush it into a misshapen brass ball. The only thing preventing her is a Smeargle and a frightened Prinplup.

"Let go." She commands, as if the message wasn't already clear. "Or I will take it."

"This doesn't belong to you." Leon speaks

"You're one to preach." She strikes back.

Leon tugs on the badge, but her claws are planted there like a statue. There's no way to make her budge. Leon looks to Prinn as though expecting him to have a plan, but the boy is frozen by fright.

"It's Braviary's, and-"

"Did he ever tell you how he got it?" Halcion takes on a mocking tone. "What's his story? Don't tell me you're enough of a featherbrain to believe every word out of that drunk's maw."

Leon grits his teeth.

"Lemme guess, he didn't tell you, huh?"

Keep it together, Leon.

"You're going to give me this." Halcion lurches over the table. "And in return, I won't tell everyone you're housing a criminal in your guild, Scholar."

Seriously? She's threatening their guilds over one badge? It'll be disastrous for the both of them!Threats of this calibre shouldn't be shot around with all the grace of a Water Gun.

There's something wrong with this thing, and if she wants it so bad, then there has to be more than anger driving her.

"What do you know about our Guild?"

Leon's question catches her attention. She raises a brow.

"Enough to know you're propped up entirely by your little library and those three in your guild who give a damn."

Heads turn to the Haxorus and the Smeargle, staring each other down. It seems each passing moment Leon could end up as a smear on the wall but he stands his ground, never moving his hand from the badge.

"Then you're familiar with the fact our Librarian does regular background checks on anyone who enters our guild. Do you believe she, with all the resources of our guild, would allow a criminal to join us?"

His hands occupied, he flicks his tail in the direction of Halcion's badge. Fourth rank.

"Acquiring your badge must have been difficult, I'm sure. Would you be willing to throw it away for a baseless accusation, or are we gonna talk like civil people?"

Halcion's eyes gleam with the fury of the sun. After what seems like minutes of agonising silence she relinquishes it. Crossing her arms and spitting on the floor.

"If you're so smart then you'll throw this thing into the ocean." She snorts. "It's going to bring you bad luck, and way more attention than me."

"We'll take our chances."

A badge without a guild to speak of which matches not a single one in their entire library. What was its purpose? Who made it? There were many hints but none were as eye opening as another guild having such a vehement reaction to a little piece of metal.

If they want to get rid of this cursed thing, then it's up to Braviary. Hesitant to take the badge, Prinn reaches over the table and swipes it.

"Um…" the boy looks at the trinket in his hand. "Hey, Halcion?"

"What is it?"

She changes the second she speaks to the boy. Halcion's anger is gone, hiding under a thin veil of warmness. Maybe she's happy to move on from this awkwardness? Leon is too.

"Remember when I asked you earlier about Braviary?"

Halcion nods.

"When you got up last night you weren't just pointing at him, you were pointing at this." Prinn flashes the badge. "I don't think Braviary did anything bad, he seems nice. Did someone else in his guild hurt you?"

She looks towards Leon and she climbs out of her seat. Her sash sways behind her like a dark flag as she walks away. She doesn't say a word.

"Hey!"

Prinn's cries are ignored. Halcion moves swiftly, carving a trail with her tail and stride out of the tavern. This may not be the answer they were looking for, but it satisfies Leon. Prinn didn't seem so grateful. Prinn lets out a little squeak, sinking back into his seat as he tosses the badge onto the table. A sigh of defeat cements the boy's mood.

"I uh…"

Prinn reaches over the table, corking the bottle of Oran and ignoring the Aspear. Strangely, he slides the enigma wine over.

"This stuff just tastes like Oran to me." he explains, taking the tiniest sip of the mysterious brew. "I, uh, just wanted to see if it's still the case."

Or he wants to taste something stronger than watered down Oran, or Prinn is actually curious. Leon's not one for sweets; it's a good thing Enigma Wine tastes nothing like Oran to him.

"Unless you've had some kind of crisis or the brew was botched, it wouldn't change." Leon's eyes briefly latch onto the Aspear. "If it's Oran-tasting, then I presume you've got deep blue?"

"Yeup."

Mapping skills would help a future mariner in some way. Maybe there is a future for the boy where he becomes a legendary sailor of some kind. The Sea is said to be home to dungeons which make their romp through the forest seem like leisurely stroll. If their track record of stumbling into a dungeon persists, the boy's gonna need to train like mad if he wants to go this route.

"Mine was blue too, much darker. It was more of a darker grey now that I think about it." Leon rambles. "I tasted Coba Berry - which is where the blue must have come from, but I don't think those berries are supposed to be as spicy. Must've been the actual Enigma Berry in it."

The Cyan berries are famously dry and bitter. It's no wonder the Aspear-guzzling traveller didn't sense it, Leon's taste buds must have frozen off.

"So like, was it more black or more blue? Like a big ocean, or like a dark and spooky night?"

"The latter. Tail Glow made me a good night watchman." Leon flicks his tail. "The trick is not a hundred percent, though, no aura reading as good as one from a pokemon whose life is seeing into other people. If you don't ever like yours then try again some day, could always have been the batch."

"Nah. If I'm seriously re-thinking the aura stuff, I'd look for a Lucario instead" Prinn smiles. "I like my fortune, so I think it got it pretty right."

Could the Emporium provide readings similar to their Wine? Prinn wouldn't have to go very far if he wants a second opinion.

"I did the trick with Braviary, you know? When I brought him to Scoria Town."

"He probably just wanted your drink." Leon snorts.

"Yeah, of course. But when you said you had a really dark aura, it reminded me of his. The bottom of his cup was all black, not like the sea, or night, or even grey. His aura was like…" Prinn makes a snapping motion. "Like he had none. Maybe his head was all foggy, maybe it's gotta do with the amnesia. Iunno, I just thought it was…"

"Weird." Leon finishes the boy's sentence. "You may be correct with the amnesia. The trick isn't always right."

He was too tired - his mind too addled to properly theorycraft. Just another oddity for Leon to throw up on the all-consuming pile of weird things about their bird friend. A trick failing to read him is nowhere near the tip of the bird iceberg.

A minute passes, then a few more.. Minstrel's playing switches its tune to a soothing rhythm as the night goes on. Leon's eyes slowly to close and-

"Uhm, Leon?"

The squeak of a Prinplup calls him from the depths. Leon grunts. Prinn is rolling his map up, tucking things away.

"I'm gonna go look for Halcion. There's something I gotta ask her. I won't be long, okay?"

What was he going to tell the boy no? Of course not. Leon waves him off.

"Don't lose that badge."

Webbed feet fwip and fwop away as Leon shuts his eyes once more, letting music fill the nothingness. Leon deserves this. At this moment he's nothing else but another regular, passing out whilst a bard's song eases him to slumber. Glasses clink, voices murmur.

But those voices begin to simmer. The crowds disperse, leaving behind a relatively empty tavern with him, the owner, the bard and two others. The strumming of a lute keeps him attached to this reality, and if it were to leave, so would Leon.

Bottles are being stowed, chairs pushed back in. The music stops, and falls aslumber-

"My, oh my, couldn't wait for me at all?"

Leon's eyes shoot open, and across from him are a pair of purple irises, slit like a Seviper's - staring at him from the darkness. The flick of an unseen limb ignites a candle-sized flame between them to reveal a grinning merchant.

With a curtain draped over the golden feather, the entire Tavern becomes the cold dark basement it always was. The flame is kept alive long enough for Leon to sit upright, then she extinguishes it. All he can see are monochromatic shapes and her mystifying stare.

Before he can speak; a question immediately rings through his groggy mind. Why now? Did she want everyone to leave first?

"You're late.." Leon grumbles.

"Mind my tardiness, Dear. I prefer to engage my partners one on one. Earlier today was the exception." The hatted Spirit laughs. "I don't believe there is such a thing as "wasting time" but there are instances where it could be better spent."

The guildie's gone, and now it's only him, sitting alone in a guildless Tavern where even its owner is busy asleep. If she wants to be alone with him, she's got him. But why couldn't she speak with him in their room? Does this ghost fear eavesdroppers, does she fear crowds?

It's peculiar; as if it's somehow pivotal they only speak when he's isolated and cut off from his comrades. The lights too - why does it have to be so dark? Is this some manner of intimidation tactic? It feels wrong to think these things.

"Your fire." Leon shifts the conversation. "Couldn't you have kept the light on? I thought it was only Dark-Types and cave dwellers who like dark cold basements."

"Can't you see me fine?" She asks.

There are tiny beams shooting out from the gaps in the feather's curtain but none reach their seat. The only light is from her eyes, which catch on the brim of her hat, travelling no further. Leon barely makes out a grin.

Leon begrudgingly nods.

"Then why keep Mystical Fire alight? Sounds like a waste." She holds her appendages together like clasped hands. "We can see ourselves fine, Leon. But if the dark frightens you I could…"

"No." Leon clears his throat. "The dark doesn't frighten me. I was not hatched yesterday."

Using Tail Glow, uncovering the feather, or asking for her flame trick is an admittance of defeat. This atmosphere is deliberate; far different than the glamorous warmth of her shop.

"Of course not." She chuckles. "Allow me to be brief with you: the only order of Enigma Wine was made two weeks ago."

"Even if this exchange were a secret, the usual loud-mouths would have made me privy to it." She sighs, or emulates the sound of one - ghosts don't need to breathe exactly. "No guildmates were cast to retrieve the drop and there's no cause for their Guildmaster to be hush."

At least the guild's not publicly trying to cause trouble. One answer, more questions. Leon wants to take another swig, but keeps his arms to himself.

"And Guildmaster Rattata would have noticed anything off about the order," Leon says, "and it's assumed these orders have the approval of the Sundown's higher-ups…"

Where could Mienshao hide this in a Town bustling with crime-stoppers? Would she expose by picking it up, and where did the Aromatisse leave? There has to be an accomplice.

His head pounds like a hammer, and he groans in defeat. His back is to a wall.

"Are you well, dear? I am only the bearer of news." She pauses, and then there's a soft clink in the dark. "A drink for thy troubles? Oran is a common cure-all."

What is one more?

"Light first."

"You'll get your light." She chuckles. "I must retire, you'd do well to take care of yourself. You know where I can be found."

At the drop of a hat she's ready to leave. This is his one chance.

"Can you wait?"

She turns around. Her expression remains, yearning for his question.

"This would be the third time we've met, and I don't know a thing about you. Could I get a name? Something for the record."

Her body drifts towards her. She is a table's length away, then half a length, until he can feel the glow of her eyes upon his face. His tail demands everything from him to keep it from igniting.

"You have everything I've allowed you to know. What more is there to ask for?"

Only the purple in her narrow eyes give off light. The gemstones on her robe seem like three diamond-like slashes, and her hat casts a permanent shadow over her features. The phantom's uncanny smile twists her fabric mouth into a monstrous maw. And it's when she speaks he sees it.

Hidden on the opposite ends of her oddly-shaped mouth, are two fangs. Ivory and bone - something which does not belong on a being sewn from cloth.

"I fancy no labels. If you are obliged to give me one, Mismagius shall serve well."

The face-to-face staring contest ends when Leon blinks. She's gone. Shadow Sneak, probably, the library is a spirit as well.

He lights his tail at last, revealing an empty tavern and a half poured glass of blue wine. He gathers the bottles, and stands. He looks back - alone and not wanting to leave a mess behind - he takes a swift drink.

The burst of Oran-sweetness fills his taste buds. Then a sudden bitter taste afterwards, leaving his hatch with a final sting of spiciness.

Coba Berry?