A guild's light guides Prinn through the streets of Calico Town as he chases the explorer's shadow, weaving as fast as he can through empty markets and closed stalls. Prinn can hear her footsteps in the night, scratching the stone with its claws, hammering the earth with its stride.
Why is she in such a hurry? Is it the "bad luck", the "unwanted attention"?
There is no reality where this silly toy she is worrying over is worth endangering everyone he calls friends, but he'd like to know why he'd be throwing it into an ocean first and foremost.
Nothing is open at this hour, not even the ghost's orb nor the Psychic Emporium. The only places which are open are taverns like Vileplume's dingy little establishment. Either she's heading to another bar to drown her troubles in peace or back to her Guild after an extended period of being "bar-ridden."
He makes it to the bridge, catching Halcion just in time.
"Hey, Halcion!"
From atop the bridge, the Haxorus is more intimidating than she's ever looked before. Friends do not frighten Prinn however; his feet slap across the cobble streets till he stands fearlessly in the Dragon-Type's shadow. A welcoming smile spreads across his beak.
"My name's Prinn." He extends a flipper in greeting. "I don't think I ever-
Her claws grip his hand, shaking it with a strength to topple a boulder.
"Halcion." She introduces herself with a smug nod. "Four-Point explorer of Team Vanguard, but I suppose you already knew this."
No, he didn't actually. The Team name is entirely new, and given who was checking up on her when she was out - it's a team which comprises her and their suspect.
"I had to get some air. Your Smeargle pal was barking up the place." She pulls her hand away, folding her arms against her burly chest. "Couldn't keep his mouth shut for the life of him."
Sounds like Leon alright.
"You're not much better," a grin curls up her mouth and reveals jagged teeth, "but at least I can stand you."
This must be a compliment of some kind. The ever-elusive thing someone as stuck-up as Leon refuses to dole out. It fills him with a fuzzy warm feeling. A chilly breeze from the river reminds him what he is here for.
"I hope you're okay with more questions then. You did kind of run off before I got to y'know - ask something? You seemed, erm…"
"Miffed, yeah." Halcion snorts. "I don't think I'm usually this grumpy. Being stuck in a sleep coma is not something which happens often, it's been a ride but I think it's let me off the hook for the night."
"What makes you say that?" Prinn asks.
She doesn't answer straight away, instead she blinks. Counting the seconds which pass by on her three-clawed hands till an arbitrary amount of time passes.
"You know how I get up every once in a while? I never made it this far out of that hole without fighting, look at how far I've got! Fate's blessed me today!"
Her guild's light shines on her armour-like scales as she reaches out to the sea. Taking a deep breath its winds blow over her, causing her new scarf to flutter like a tattered flag. She cackles like a mad pokemon in the face of the Sea's arctic cruelty; nothing can phase her.
Except for her sickness, of course. When her laughter dies down, her eyes close for just a second and this thing takes hold. Prinn is helpless to catch her as she topples like a statue onto the railing.
Prinn grabs her shoulder in vain, shaking her.
"Hey! Are you-"
Her scarf flows wildly, stronger than it did when the winds blew through. Its garish, almost-golden fabric sparkles in the artificial sunlight. He hears a faint sound - bells. He glances to see the bell-shaped patterns animate, creating a brief cacophony which awakens Halcion in seconds.
They both stare in bewilderment at the animating scarf, watching the bells ring till their magic turns them back into ordinary patterns. The Prinplup's eyes are glowing.
"Wow! A real one of these?"
This is a scarf! Not the kinds tailors make - what she has comes from fabric found in the deepest depths of dungeons. In the Dusk Continent, they were utterly invaluable. And their rarity made them a luxury few are lucky to find, and even fewer could afford. Other than a badge, it is the mark of a true adventurer.
Didn't this belong to Minstrel? Prinn ponders. Where in the Dusk Continent could someone find this thing? Maybe he brought it from abroad? He wasn't here this morning; it's not impossible he could have spent all day hunting for it.
"Never seen one?" She huffs, leaning against the railing for support. "I know they're not much of a thing around here, but you're a guildie aren't you?"
"Ye-" Prinn slaps his forehead, oh right. "Um, no- not yet sorry! Guess I'm technically an indie explorer right now."
There's a bitter taste on his tongue when he speaks this; a pain of so many failed applications all for nothing. The miraculous, almost story-book discovery of an amnesiac on a beach with a badge was the only way he was even let into their doors. He should feel fortunate.
"Huh, I thought you were at least part of the Scholars." She sighs. "We were all your age when we started taking interest in this life. You have this certain angle to you which puts you above the dozens of younger adventurers I've seen - what's your schtick?"
He unbuckles the tube from his waist. With a pop, the map slides out into his flippers and he hands it over to her. She reaches for it with her claws, then smartly decides against tearing it to accidental shreds.
"I was always good at remembering places so I got into making maps. I figured a lot of scary stuff happens out there in the Sea so I wanted to use my typing to help chart it. I made this tube-thingy myself. It's airtight so the currents will never mess it up!"
Maybe it's the fact he's a flightless bird, but it's always been easy for him to visualise things as though they were from high above. Combine this with some slightly-above-average drawing skills for a poke his age and he's able to draft up maps on the spot. The all too familiar large rooms and corridors scribbled onto this side of the map elicit an amused "huh" from the experienced adventurer.
"Not bad. Those weird places mix-up and change too often for it to be super useful, but…"
"It's something I drew while we were walking in there," he rattles his tube, "I could show you a better-"
"You made this while walking in there?" Halcion suddenly flares up. It takes the kid by surprise.
"Y-Yeah!"
"During it?"
Prinn shakes his head again, he gives the map an eager tug.
"Yeah! I wasn't in the front, so I had time to draw on it every other minute or so? I can make something better when I'm not worried about the dungeon guys."
"Don't undersell yourself, brat!" Halcion's smile softens the blow. "Mienshao mentioned you were just some cute kid, but you actually know what you're doing!. This is enough to get you into any place worth their salt, so why aren't you getting exploration done?"
Because he's on here investigating her very partner and guild, that's why. Her words cause some frustrated feelings to bubble up. There is nothing wrong with gossiping a little bit, right?
"I'm technically independent, and I've been trying to get into the Scholar's Guild forever because they've got the big library. It's the only place you can really learn stuff here, but Everytime I try to show them the maps I've made - they never accept my application no matter what I have." Prinn bemoans. "They only now wanna see what I can do. Leon's here to watch me and I'm gonna stick a leg out for me but there's no promise I can even get in after we get back. I'm lucky Leon's even doing this."
She's absorbing every word, watching like a beast from its cage. When he's done, the growl Halcion makes could shake the earth.
"Gah! Always those snobby Scholars! They get three good people at their jobs and they think of themselves as special!" A guild rivalry shows its scowling face in her voice. "Don't you listen to them for a second Prinn! If they don't want you, then it's their loss!"
She sounds too furious for it to just be her trying to make him feel better; there's truth under her child-like anger. She might actually believe in Prinn. Being told day after day his work was never good enough to be allowed into a guild, to travelling alongside a bickering old bird, having a stranger defend Prinn feels so unusual. It's no wonder he took a liking to her.
"They aren't even as hot as they think they are!" Her claws reach for her badge, and rip it off her sash. "You ever see one of those nerds with these?"
She sends the badge soaring through the air, Prinn catches it with ease. It's the same sort of badge as Mienshao: a semi-circle either representing a setting sun or a moon on the horizon with four instead of five points on one side. The badge is, at least in comparison to braviary, sort of heavy. It's probably all the spikes which have been grafted on by a fire-type.
"Every guild worth their name, even those spooky-society folks up north have a badge to represent them. Some don't have power like mine has, but as a guildie you're nothing unless you have something to stand for." She reaches a claw over and taps the badge in his hands. "If a guild stands for nothing, and no badge to show for it, then what's the point in joining one? You're better off running indie jobs than you are singing for a guild who doesn't have their act."
She spits into the waters behind her, hissing under her breath.
"You'd think with so many books these nerds wouldn't lose sight of the Knight's legacy. Utter amateurs."
Just as questions begin to form about this murmured knight she turns around with a half-grin. Halcion swipes her badge out of his flippers, and holds it in front of him.
"Wanna see a trick?"
What he actually wants to see is what the deal with this Knight is. Perhaps if he were to get her to begin rambling she would spit out a thing or two about this knight. She has a trick to show him. It's bound to be cool, right?
Prinn nods his head eagerly and watches as she holds this badge up to her temple. It shakes like a Magikarp trapped in her claws, shining for a brief second before she talks at it.
"Lunatone?"
The badge acts like a gateway; a voice speaks on the other side.
"You're nineteen nights late." The voice is monotone. There is an odd way which it echoes from the badge. "Is this to signal the end of your extended break?"
"Possibly." Halcion chuckles. "I won't be able to use this thing again for another day, so I may as well ask right now: are we looking for newbies?"
Prinn's heart begins pounding like a drum against his ribs, and he waddles up, shaking his flippers back and forth and sweating bucketloads. She just grins back at him, her crooked teeth shining like pearls.
"We have an open recruitment policy, yes. Nothing has changed, Halcion of Team Vanguard. You have not been gone for too long" Its answer sounds exceedingly tiring. A sound of a huge tome hitting a desk booms through the gateway. "Do you have more questions, Halcion of Team Vanguard? There may be others waiting to converse with me."
She hums, and haws for a second. "Nope!" Then places her other hand over the badge, clasping it like one shuts a book. She pins it back onto her red sash, scrubbing the iron clean with the back of her hand.
"Our guild does work from sunset to sunrise, travelling with caravans all over this darn rock. We can pair these things with another badge and talk through them once every day or two." She points to it as if the person on the other side's watching. "The fussy guy you heard is Lunatone, they're the night coordinator - the day guy is Solrock. They share the same badge which a lot of guildies pair to by default. They're pretty good to have on hand even if the night guy's kind of a…"
She was probably about to say something nasty because she cut herself off. The second of silence allows Prinn to step in.
"Before I ask, what does your badge-"
"Standing strong in the night, till morning." She gives a confused shake of her head. "What it resembles, I don't care. It's a circle someone was too lazy to finish."
Prinn didn't even need to pry her for that nugget of information, huh. Now onto the real question. He swallows hard.
"You weren't serious about what you said, right?" His courage builds with each word. "You wouldn't have asked that of Lunatone if I wasn't standing right here. As nice as you've been to me, I don't know if you guys have the stuff I'm looking for - the resources you know? I've been trying to get into the Scholars for ages. I know I don't belong to any guild just yet. Changing my path now feels…"
"It's fine, Prinn." Stoic understanding overrides the anger in her voice. "I'm pulling your leg. The road's only open if you want to take it. I get all worked up when people badmouth the Knight; drives me mad."
Freezing water runs below their feet, glacial winds pour in from the Sea, but the warmth inside him burns hotter than Calico's beacon. He has tried, and is still trying to earn his right to the Scholar's Guild. Braviary and Leon are betting on him succeeding. He owes it to them to succeed in this little investigation for everyone, and Leon's guild. After this, who knows what his future holds? As of now his burning loyalty has made its home in the Scholar's archives.
If only he knew what the Scholar's really stand for, then perhaps he would know where he wants to end up. A tiny guild of troubled souls with no belief to define them. He digs into his carrying tube and pulls out a second badge, the featureless emblem of Braviary's guild which taunts them day by day. A thought occurs to him.
A guild with nothing to stand for.
No badge to show for.
Could the creation of a badge like Halcion's or Braviary's be simply a matter of group mentality - of perceived worthiness? Did he just figure it out?
"Indie, are we?"
As if the badge in Prinn's flipper summoned it, a voice appears from the blue. The plumage along his neck rises up as he snaps towards its source.
Nothing. Two lampposts and the guild's beacon light a street void of life. The windows have no light from within them; no doors are open. Even Halcion sounds perplexed. There is no place for this mysterious voice to hide.
Other than in plain sight.
Emerging from behind a lamp is an impossibly slender lizard even taller than even Halcion. A membranous pink crest runs from his down to two coattails. His hands are sterile white, and their eyes glare like two gold rings in the darkness. A white cravat ties a mantle to their shoulders - he dresses like an explorer.
Prinn shrinks into Halcion's claws, holding Braviary's precious medal close to his chest. The Lizard steps forward, stopping a distance aways with a hand on his toothpick waist. His eyes don't leave Prinn for a moment.
"We're cut from the same cloth." He dusts his cravat. "But my way of independence has taken an abrupt turn as of late. My long, lonesome path has led me to where we are now, on this lonesome bridge."
Everything about them is a mystery, but Prinn is sure they've seen the gaudy crest in the Tavern. There was another pokemon at their table, right? Where were they?
"Why are you out here?" Halcion speaks up. "If you want somewhere to hang, the Hollow Dream's Tavern is the way you came."
"I know. You were there Hal, and so were you, boy." They restrain a chuckle. "Sorry, Prinn is your name, right? You're the friend of Burke?"
He drops the name like Prinn did not spend a whole day trying to figure it out.
"Halcion is my name." She retorts with cold indifference. Her claws are the only things between Prinn and this stranger. "And we're not friends. Now If there is something you want to say, spit it out already."
"Fine. I'll forgo the pleasantries then."
He steps forwards, extends an acusitory finger, and hold the pose. His reptilian eyes past his hand, locking the duo in their sights. Prinn flinches.
"One of you is in possession of something important to me." His voice is drenched with determination. "Ordinarily I'd rather we speak in more cordial circumstances, but fate has not afforded us this luxury. Be thankful you've forgotten, Hal, and I caution you not to waste this fortune chasing a sense of nostalgia."
"I am sure we could arrange a day at the Emporium to have Xatu pick through your mind, but he's been suspiciously absent since you showed. Thanks to Burke, I have it on good word psychic tricks are useless on amnesiacs."
Halcion was as silent as she was in her death-like slumber. Her grip on Prinn tightens as do his flippers around the badge. The Lizard has yet to move.
"Neither of you have or could lead me to what I'm looking for, but I know what can."
A membrane flicks over his eyes, blotting their eyes black and turning their pupils pink. Prinn hears Halcion take a deep breath.
"Sorry, Hal."
Two cracks akin to the sound of shattering ice sound off. Before Prinn sees the attack, Halcion spins her around as two watery bullets splash against her armour scales. She releases Prinn to grab her badge, and a look of terror overcomes her face.
She already used its ability.
Prinn looks past her to see a going on the Lizard's fingertip. A third shot is coming. An Bubble wells up out of his throat and punts it with his free flipper.
He leaps out of the way, landing on the balustrade with precision. He bolts across the tightrope, and Halcion stares down an imminent fourth shot.
"Gotta slow him." She tells herself.
The bridge beneath Prinn shakes as she slams her talons into the stone. A chunk of rock rises up in front of her and she whips her tail around pitching a Rock Tomb at their foe. It careens straight into his path and-
Stops.
There's no glimmer, no sign that a psychic held the shot in the air, just a deepening feeling of dread in his stomach. As like a thousand unseen hands have put themselves infront of the Inteleon, catching the hunk of stone till it freezes mid air. He bounds off the attack like a spring, leaping over.
Prinn looks up to see the Lizard clutching his cravat, lining up a shot.
PLINK
Braviary's badge endures the blow, sending itself soaring out of his flippers downriver. There's a splash below the bridge, and their foe is gone.
No! No! His mind races as he scurries towards the other side of the bridge. He scours the abyssal river from the edge trying to spot a glimmer of gold among the waves of darkness, but every second he wastes here is another for it to drift further towards the heartless Sea. Prinn can't afford to lose it, but the ever-tightening dread inside his stomach glues his flippers to the floor. He can't bring himself to move even if he wants to.
No matter how brave he can be, Prinn is weak. Either the currents or the lizard somewhere in those waters will do him in. There is no time to think this through; the panic is eating away at him.
He nearly jumps off when Halcion suddenly slams her claws onto the railing, chipping the masonry.
"Damnit!" The Dragon-type curses. "They were waiting for me to use my badge the whole time, the sly bastard! Them running off like that has made it personal! You and I are gonna get my guild, then we're gonna find them and rip this fool to shre-"
"No!"
Prinn shouts. She swerves back to the little bird, her expression turning from wrath to bewilderment.
"N-no!" Prinn lays a flipper on his chest, feeling his heart pound. "T-That's my friend's badge! It's my fault I lost it while out here, and I don't wanna make this any more worse for him by dragging another guild into this!"
"I can fix this, I-it's my problem anyways! I really don't want it to be a bigger mess than it already is." Prinn begs. "Please, if I ever need your guild's help by tomorrow you know where you can find me, okay?"
He can tell she's just chomping at the bit to get her gaggle of guildies to find this thief. With a deep breath, her fury leaves.
"Prinn," she says slowly, "what does that thing mean to you?"
The badge?
"It's my friend's. For all the everything he puts me through and all the trouble that badge gets, it means the whole world to Burke." He says the name - she knows it now anyways. "I don't even know if he can get another from his guild, Halcion. I don't want him to lose this."
"It's Hal."
Guess he's the newest member of the Hal Club after the previous guy left: second being Mienshao.
Without warning she hoists the boy off his feet like a hatchling with one arm while she draws imaginary lines with the other. Was she about to-
"I think I saw it go to the market's side, which is good for you. Your friends are gonna hear you scream if this turns out to be a disaster."
She's the catapult and he's the stone. Prinn takes a deep breath, tucking himself up into a feathery blue sphere.
"Spread your wings and fly, little squire!"
A powerful Dragon Tail whips him right on his back. He flies outwards with all the grace of a flightless avian leaping off a cliff, soaring high into the air while his back screams in agony.
And for a few beautiful seconds up in the skies everything seems so quaint. Thieves, magical trinkets, wine - none of those awful things exist. Up here it's only him not-so-gracefully soaring over the world.
He plummets into the river with a ginormous splash, Halcion's move sending him speeding against the opposing current. Streaks of the guild's light shine from the waves above and coat the riverbed with a soft glow, he can see shadows of driftwood and rocks in the silt.
Glacial waters, winter currents; Prinn is in his element. He tucks his flippers in, kicking his webbed feet and letting the momentum carry him against the tides. A sparkle in the silt to his left cries out to him. He immediately shifts course, holding out a flipper in anticipation.
Closer and closer, he can nearly feel the metal in his hand when he hears a loud crack from behind.
Prinn kicks off the dirt below whilst the shot comes careening behind him. His flippers wreath around the emblem as a bolt bites into his leg, forcibly making him twist around. Prinn meets eyes with the thief.
The momentum provided by Halcion's throw could carry him for a good while, but the thief needs no head start to compete. The Intelon is practically gliding through the river, his membranes acting like a ship's sails. His tail doing most of the work swimming, his hands are free to shoot Prinn down.
He kicks off the silt again, clutching his goal tight to his chest. He waits for the second shot, then blindly tosses a bubble behind him.
Good news is, he didn't need to focus on hurling up the water for Bubble because there is plenty to go around at the bottom of a river. Bad news is blowing bubbles at people is just as, if not more useless while underwater. The second shot harmlessly collides with the Bubble, but when Prinn tries to follow up with another it hardly reaches its mark before it's sent floating up to the surface.
Oh right, bubbles do this.
The thief bolts downriver, making a long way around Prinn whilst he fires off bubble after bubble. Every time he comes close to even grazing the Inteleon he reaches into his cravat and causes the bubbles to freeze. His move becomes so harmless he is able to kick himself off of them.
And now he has cut him off
He sees the Inteleon ahead and jams his feet into the silt, kicking it up like murky dust. The Guild's sun shines through the water upon their sandy surroundings and the two stare down, the river current humming in their ears.
The Inteleon stands in front of them, his tail already folded along the river's floor ready to spring him - quite literally - into action. At this range Prinn's bubble could hit them, but projectiles don't work on this person. If Prinn wants to do anything - which he's still a complete rookie at battling - he has to fight him in flipper-to-hand.
Pecking at his eyes would put the badge in arm's reach of the Inteleon. Prinn is effectively stuck between a thief and a wharf too far to make running worth it. With him cornered, the lizard speaks up.
"I admire you and your friend's ingenuity, but this is where your stream of fortune peeters to an end." His voice dances between the line of pity and praise. "Should you relinquish your badge to me right now I shall let you swim away."
"What's so important about the badge to you?" Prinn keeps an eye on his hands, watching them rest around his hips. "I-If you have a good reason for wanting I think we can work something out with my friend, I wouldn't mind."
"I have my reasons, but I don't tell secrets." He flinches as their hand moves, only to see them wag a finger. The jerk. "You should have listened to Hal when she was growling in the tavern: I am the unwanted attention she tried so hard to warn you about. Burke's badge will lead me to what I want."
No point in asking what their wants are, they're gonna side-step it. He's got maybe one or two more questions before they ask before it's go-time.
Speaking of this Burke, there were more names on the list of regulars. Out of all the names there's one he doesn't recognize. It's worth a shot to connect the two.
"Are you Lou T, an Inteleon? You're the guy with a three hundred tab at the tavern?"
"It's Louisa." They do a short curtsy, their membranes flap in the tidal currents. "I'm a gentleman. What more do you know?"
Louisa T, male Inteleon with three hundred debts. It would help to write this down but he's not going to soil his maps. There's something he knows he's forgetting. He's not going to waste his time thinking."
"I don't know, but can you tell me what's under your cravat?" Prinn squints at the flowing white fabric.. "Every time a move gets thrown at you, it slows and acts funny when you touch it."
"Tardy more and you will find out."
Very succinct. Now comes the part where he asks Prinn for the badge where Prinn inevitably says no, and they fight again.
Prinn takes a split second to look at his cards:
Bubbles are quicker to come out underwater, float up rapidly, and have their range reduced. They're also sturdy enough to bounce off. Good to know.
Peck might be useful as a last resort, though he's really not a person to go for a pokemon's eyes - which is the only way it's going to be effective. Bad overall option, may have its use.
Whenever Louisa reaches into his cravat he freezes things. He's done this two times. Maybe he has an orb that does-
"Now, as we've discussed." Louisa doesn't wait for Prinn's thoughts/. "Will you fork the badge over or are you going to be difficult, Prinn?"
One hand pointing forward, the other cross over his cravat, he's absolutely ready to fire a bolt. This is going to be exceedingly difficult. Prinn is way over his head. He's still sore in two places, his heart's racing, but the only thing on his mind is saving the one thing Braviary holds dear.
Prinn steels himself, taking in a gulp of the cool water surrounding him. It's either this, or having one heck of time explaining to Leon. It's time to go.
Louisa's water bolt sounds off like the ferocious crack of a vine whip, Prinn immediately spits out a bubble and the two connect. A second bubble, a second shot. His shots stop coming after Prinn continues with a third bubble. Four, five, exhaustion threatens to take him but he manages to throw out a good seven globs in Louisa's way. With the eight, it lands as a sad glob at his feet. He holds the bubble down with his good foot.
Seven of them hover in Louisa's direction, most already beginning to rise. Louisa's tail launches him for an aerial strike as an object attached wire floats out of his cravat.
This thing is gear as dark as iron and no bigger than the size of his gangly hand. The deep black metal consumes any light around it. The ornamental clock-like engravings on each of its faces glow red in the darkness. His eyes lock onto Prinn as he clutches the gear, causing it to shine brightly, then…
The bubbles stop, the ripples in the water freeze. For those brief seconds the rivers no longer flow and nothing other than the two water-types that seem to exist.
A second flash, everything other than those bubbles flows once more. Louisa, floating above, shoots downwards - cutting through Prinn's minefield.
Only for them the ground beneath him as the pathetic eighth bubble rises, taking Prinn to the sky along with it. He sees the Inteleon up above gritting his teeth, and fires off a third shot right for Prinn's badge.
It's no use, the bubble carrying him blocks the shot aiming for his chest. Though it leaves the Prinplup helplessly adrift, he's a water type, and there's already five bubbles waiting for him. Prinn's good foot finds the nearest bubble, pushes off as hard as he can, and launches him face to face with a bewildered Lizard.
Please flinch.
Prinn's beak digs into the back of Louisa's shooting hand like a beaky spear. Thies gives him the one precious second to float up, and towards the river's glistening surface
The Prinplup's body launches out from the water onto the cobblestone where he tumbles onto the streets like a boulder.. Prinn's body is caught on a lamppost, slamming him to a bone-cracking halt. He gasps in pain
It wasn't the landing he wanted, but it got him onto dry land far away from the river monster. Now Prinn's whole body is sore all over: his back from the Dragon Tail, the shot which got his leg, and now his entire left side feels like something's broken..
He clutches the badge. This thing is more trouble than it's worth after all, but forking it away to a stranger as determined as Louisa seems like a bad idea altogether. Whatever he wants it for - it's probably to do with a crime. And what was the thing in his hand anyways? It looked like a piece of a contraption.
Despite its crimes against Prinn, the pole helps in getting onto his one good foot, but his walk's an even worse wobble than it usually is. If he can limp to the tavern then he'll be safe in his friend's arms.
He is going to get better at this whole fighting thing some time in the future but oh dear has it wrought a terrible feeling brewing inside of his stomach. There was no way two water-type pokemon spitting at each other in the depths of a river was going to do either of them in; yet tthat was a person he was shooting at - not a bottle sitting up on a beach.
Prinn swallows these thoughts for a moment. He peers into a nearby alleyway, then squirms past it. He's at the square now. Though its lights are no longer on, the tavern's safety is only on the other side of this huge wide open space where there's nowhere to hide.
Except for the ghost's tent, maybe.
Looking from side to side, and on feet which aren't made for sprinting at all - the flightless bird makes a stumbling break for it. Anxiety builds with every brick he crosses. He looks all around, down every adjacent street, from right to-
Someone emerges from a perpendicular street. The Sneasel's fur is as dark as the night but their big blue hat catches the guild's glow. He sees the shine of their deadly hook-shaped claws and he wants to scream in horror. He was so close.
They just stay there, standing at the other side of the square raising their shining claws while Prinn's freezes in fear. They swipe the air, and-
Prinn leaps at the sound of a distant pop. A water bullet explodes a brick near his foot, turning his dive into a tumble as he rolls towards the only place he can hide: the tent.
Its owner is nowhere to be seen. The wares are half-packed, as if the spectre vanished in a hurry. He's safe.
The Inteleon's moves could through the tent's walls if they were butter, it is the precious goods Prinn is surrounding himself in which made any shot nigh-impossible.
Coming here is still a mistake, there is no way out other than towards the Sneasel. There is no way out other than towards the Sneasel. Prinn looks around for anything which could help him.
He can see their reflection in the orbs. They are closing in. Prinn grabs the biggest orb he can carry, neither sure if he should throw it or toss it at his feet, but priming it in his empty flipper for when the ice type crosses-
They stop..
He peers through the door. The Sneasel is looking off towards the tavern.
"Sorry, dearest. We may be creatures of the night, but even this is too late for me to be open."
Sneasel peers up from their hat to reveal a look of dread upon their face. They leave like a creature into the night. Who is this voice?
"What an oaf."
A purple phantom floats into the doorway and Prinn is hit with dread. Her black eyes, slit like a serpent's, have a malice this world has never seen, and two long fangs peek out of her terrible scowl. What is he looking at? She's nightmarish!
The orb he's holding slips out of his flippers and she catches it before it shatters. Her hat's bands drape past her face; a mirthy smile instantly washes over her face.
"My kind possesses an ability to induce hallucinations. You may have seen something which was never supposed to be seen by you; I assure you it's only as real as a bad dream."
Her words are more akin to a cold dismissal than a friendly assurance. After all he's been through this evening, her words aren't convincing in this lightest. Prinn is too exhausted to bicker.
"Umn, thanks." Prinn warbles out. "That person isn't coming back, right?"
"The Sneasel?" She's already stocking her orbs away, putting them into silk-lined boxes. "If she has any sense of preservation she'd be far, far away by now. Her lizard friend is probably coddling her. I'm more curious to know how you attracted the ire of those two.."
"Protecting this." He flashes the bird's badge to her then tucks it away - this time depositing it into the carrying tube. "The uh, Lizard? Well his name is Louisa and he wanted it so much he attacked me. I would've been done if you hadn't given the Sneasel a scare."
"No need to thank me, think of it as an apology." She laughs softly. "T'was rude of me for not letting you in when you first strolled through, your friend had the demeanour of a man who talks business so I only thought it right to speak with him one on one. He's a busy-body, is he not?"
"Do you know him?" He asks.
She waves a cloth appendage. The boxes begin to organise themselves, most vanishing underneath the lavish tablecloth. The phantom turns around with a smirk.
"Leon wears who he is on his chest much in the way your other friend dons the strange badge." Her voice has a hint of curiosity. "A badge so peculiar as to attract such rambunctious adventurers to it."
"Your friends' badge is not the first of its breed I've seen, the identity of its wearer I shall keep to myself. For what I deemed as a paranoid warning at the time, I've hence realised it is their ability."
"Louisa and other sorts are seeking your badge to locate something, or someone. Your imperative as the badge's holder is to keep it out of their grimy palms."
"Something?"
She raises her hat. Her glowing pupils dilate in the dark.
The pitch black gear comes to mind. What is it? What does it do? In all the time he's heard stories of Guilds not a single one of their badges come as close as to halting everything in a space at once. What he saw was deeply unexplainable, more magical than the hundreds of orbs surrounding him as he struggles to speak. It's like anyone has ever seen, yet he was using it like one would use an orb or a seed - a tool to get him closer to what he desired more: Burke's mysterious badge.
What does this unknown guild stand for? Can Braviary even use it? It's all so exhausting. Prinn's head is pounding.
"Maybe, uh…maybe it could locate me a bed…oh dear I'm tired."
She laughs.
"Want me to accompany you, then? If you worry so much about thieves, that is."
He'd be off the walls normally; however she seriously frightens him. He's not afraid to admit it. All Prinn does is shake his head. With her eyes watching from her domain he returns to the tavern, opens the door, and steps into its soft gold glow.
Safe at last.
And for a place presumably well after working hours it was surprisingly lit. The bar is not open, but downstairs is Smeargle rummaging through bottle after bottle while a golden feather shines down on his crimes. A bard at the bar tries to convince him of his wrongdoing.
"You already smashed one," a tired Minstrel laments, "if you keep tasting them you're gonna ruin the batches and rack up a tab to make your friend blush!"
A bottle of oran lies in ruin beneath the chatot's stool, its bright blue guts tainting the wooden floor. Leon is behind the counter digging through the oran part of the rainbow, leaving half-opened bottles all along the bar. Leon takes sips out of each and every one.
"My guild will cover the damages. If they don't then I'll pay out of my own pocket." Leon marks this bottle with a swipe of his tail, leaving a green splotch. "Do you even work here?"
"Why should it matter?" Minstrel shrugs his wings. "I'm more worried about you than I am about my venue. You could get your entire guild into a fuss if you keep this up."
"I'm not getting them into any 'fuss' because you're going to tell Vileplume to put the mess you see on the tab."
Leon glances the way of the door and his baggy eyes shoot open. Minstrel notices Prinn as well. The silence is palpable. The only thing heard about the tavern is Prinns shuffling towards the bar.
"I'll handle it." Minstrel completely changes gears, swiping one of nine Oran bottles and holding it out to Prinn. "Just have a seat and take it slow. You look like you had a rough night."
Prinn flops onto the nearest seat to minstrel, and wets his beak with Oran. The sweet taste reverberates through his body, refreshing him like a bath.
"What happened? You look rough." Leon's already on him. "Don't tell me you've lost-"
Prinn lays the badge on the counter. The rainbow feather's light makes the damp metal sparkle.
"A lot happened, Leon." He explains between small, meticulous sips. "I got hurt, but I'm okay. I think I'm safe here."
Leon glances between the two, hands clasping together. Waves his tail at minstrel.
"Could you leave me and him be? I need to talk to him."
"Already planning to, it seems only right." Minstrel swerves around in his stool. "Hope you can figure out what's the deal with the Oran supplies around h-"
"No! Please let him stay!"
Prinn's squawk catches them by surprise, and Minstrel slowly spins back to him. Out of all the people he's met that Prinn trusts, maybe the bard knows a thing. Prinn takes one final sip, then speaks.
He tells them everything. The secret to the Sundown Guild's badge, his guesses to how badges work, how the Inteleon shadowed whilst inside and outside of the tavern and the battle which ensued in chase of the badge downriver, there being more badges out there. The only thing he left out was Halcion's stunt of suggesting he should join their fold, and the one he is leaving for last.
"Louisa, the guy who I had to fight. He had this thing under his clothes the whole time and when he touched it, objects seemed to act funny. I don't know how else to describe it other than it's like they froze in mid air."
The bard leans in, taking in every word he has to say and Leon is as retentive as always.
"It was shaped like a gear." Prinn explains further. "It was pitch black with these glowing markings."
Minstrel was mystified. Something behind his eyes clicks, it's like watching an old memory bubble up to the surface. He speaks up.
"Prinn?"
The boy nods, listening.
"I've come from a place called the Grass Continent. It ain't where I was born, my birthplace being on the more green side of the Desert Continent, but the Grass Continent's recent legends brought me there to seek stories to write and sing about. One of them has stuck with their people ever since it's happened."
There's the hint of a quiver in Minstrel's voice, but he sounds utterly sure. Prinn was absolutely right to have him on this.
"This gear of yours you saw in Louisa's possession. The way it slowed things down, how he used it."
"Could you say it distorts time?"