After a walk, the five stood together, looking into what would seem to be the abyssal desert. Clarence raised his hand up and placed it against something. Something that mirrored the desert behind them. James and Lioa looked at him impatiently.
"It is an illusion made by a type of trick-room," Clarence said. "Trick-room is usually used to reverse the speeds of Pokémon. This, on the other hand, is used to reflect speed, time and space. The mirror in the desert. It's so clever. The festival is about being courageous. Therefore we need to do something courageous to get inside. Who wants to go first?" Clarence gestured at the illusion.
James stumbled forward. "I understand. I'm being brave because I am stepping into the unknown by stepping forward. Therefore I can enter." He was transported to a vague dimension. The air seemed thick, and he felt dizzy.
A shadowy figure approached him. James gulped and readied Okta for combat. "Welcome to the tournament. We apologise for the field, but did you know a new Captain is going to Fehahra? Apparently, Lord Piscar sent him himself." The woman shivered, thinking about it.
Andrew spoke up. "We are here to win. Well, I am going to win."
"That's a joke, right?" A medium height man with a green streak through his short brown hair perked up.
"Grektox, be nice," the woman hissed.
"If you think you will win runt, you also believe Cresselia and Darkrai are real." Grektox jumped off the barrel he had been sitting on.
"People like him make me sick to my stomach. He would happily throw anyone to the slavers or the Elite Guard to please his masters," Clarence sighed, making James look into his narrowed blue eyes.
"Do you think he is the new Captain of Fehahra?" Lioa asked.
"No, he isn't exactly inconspicuous," Clarence replied, signing his name on the challenger's sheet before handing the pen to James.
James quickly signed in and handed the pen down the line.
Kitiku gently tugged down on James's shirt. "Lioa and Andrew are off to get food, right? Why don't we go give gifts to Cresselia?"
James nodded and walked with his friend along the dusty, sandy path past all the shops and stalls. All the food stalls gave off an enticing smell. They stopped at a booth that had a massive crowd building up. James started to scowl at a man standing in front of them. His back was turned as he chomped down on a Qwilfish snack. His blue shirt had wet patches in places due to his sweat. It didn't help that his shirt was tucked into his beige shorts.
"Excuse me, mister. Can you please move out of our way? We are trying to get through to the idols." James shunted the man forward. The blond-haired man turned around. "You? How did you get here? What are you doing here? Haven't you got something better to do than follow us?" James blurted.
"I could easily return all of those questions," Sutton said, flustered about having his disguise blown. "You are in so much trouble when I take you back to Fehahra once I report the entire activities here to the new Captain."
"Why does he care? Akrat isn't his responsibility!" James shouted.
"Lord Piscar wants this shut down. As his personal favourite soldier, he was sent here to resolve all resistance activities. A person or persons from Fehahra may be participating. Regardless of the location of the crime. Now please be quiet," Sutton whispered in a panic. Slurring his sentences into a slurry of Colrat and Elkrat. "Why aren't you in Fehahra?"
"I am competing, and I am going to win. Then I will crush the South myself. You are murderers." James spat, enraged.
"How about when we get back to Fehahra, I hand you straight over to the new Captain? He will have gathered evidence of you being here already. As he is here, somewhere. He will have all of these people thrown in prison. I will get a promotion."
"Keep talking, and I'll out you," Lioa said calmly from behind Sutton. "Andrew and I want payback for yesterday. You let that Guard hit us."
"Lioa, one day, you will understand. I was doing my job." Sutton turned around and gently ushered Lioa and Andrew to the same side as James and Kitiku. "Let's sit down over there. We can talk there in peace and quiet." He pointed to a piece of ground by the back of the stalls
The boys followed him. Lioa crossed his arms impatiently as they walked. Although it took them no more than a minute or two, Sutton had noticed Lioa's growing agitation.
Lioa scoffed, "I want you to pay!"
"Lioa," Sutton's face turned stern, and his eyes narrowed. "We make these rules for a reason. We don't want any more innocent people getting hurt. This festival is dangerous. People and Pokémon die at this festival."
"That's why we gift the idols," James said. "They protect us from that."
"When you have been injured by a Pokémon, I don't want to sit by your hospital bedside and watch the Guard decide your life isn't worth maintaining. I won't let you compete" Sutton looked genuinely concerned. "Kitiku, I thought you would have known better. Besides, you won't make it past the first round."
"Okay. Let's make a bet," James lit up at the opportunity to try and beat Sutton at his own argument.
"Betting is illegal," the Sutton sighed.
"Being here is illegal," James answered back. "So here is what I propose. If one of us makes it through the first round, you let us compete until we get eliminated, and then you forget we were here. If we all lose in the first round, you can throw us all in jail and throw away the key. Deal?" James said.
"No. If you lose the first round, you fix the mess you made in Fehahra, and you will behave," Sutton scowled.
Lioa said, "We won't lose."
"I worry about you kids more than you know," Sutton paused as Kitiku gently rested his head on Sutton's arm.
"In a few hours, I think entry will be closed to applicants. I guess until then, I should keep an eye on you boys," Sutton sighed, turning to Kitiku. "I never asked. Are you feeling better?" Sutton asked.
Kitiku nodded.
"Silent as ever," the man remarked. "I guess one day you will pick up the courage to speak to me. That is what your name means, right? Courage," Sutton whispered.
Kitiku nodded again.
"Another border dweller? I don't trust him unless you know him," Clarence was holding the Northern snack of Kikirotiki. The ice cubes were starting to melt, making the sticky sugar drip the berry seeds down the spiral.
"His accent sounds too Southern," His eyes narrowed in on Sutton.
"We know this idiot," Lioa said.
"I see. Well, in that case, allow me to introduce myself. I am Clarence." "I guess you aren't hungry. What is your name again?" Clarence asked.
"Incarero Sultan," Sutton stuttered, grasping at straws for a fake name.
"Incarero Sultan, ruler of the lamppost," Clarence said.
"Well, I guess we should be off to the battler's dressing tables. I wish you luck Incarero," Clarence said, smiling.
Incaresta, blushing, stood up. He thought back to his first days in the North as a soldier. He had gotten lost on the way to Fehahra after accidentally getting on the wrong Sawsbuck coach. He ended up in Akrat, and the slavers took advantage of his nervousness and lack of experience. Tak Bryson saved his life that day. He didn't know how, nor why, only that this labourer had done whatever it had taken to free him.
Sutton's arm was gently tugged by Kitiku. "All tired out, Kitiku?"
The boy yawned a giant yawn and nodded.
"Missing your mother too, I suspect. Okay. Let's set up a camp. Where shall we sleep?" he whispered.
The boy quickly buried his head into Incaresta's shirt. Making him place his left hand on Kitiku's shoulder and gently push him away from his chest only to have his hand taken straight away.
"Kitiku, you can't be so clingy. You are thirteen years old. You don't need to hold my hand, do you?" Sutton sighed as he accepted that Kitiku wasn't going to let go. 'This nervous child,' Sutton thought, 'he won't last five minutes in the world on his own.' "You can speak to me whenever you want. You know that."
"Y-Yes," Kitiku whispered. His grey eyes appeared more void than before. "Mister Sutton?"
"Hmm?" Incaresta stopped walking.
"Y-Y-You won't r-really let the n-n-n-new Captain p-punish us, w-will you?" Kitiku sniffled, "P-please? I-I-I-I am sc-sc-scared."
He heard tears in the young boy's voice. "You broke the rules. You are fortunate that that doctor yesterday didn't have you punished," he said.
"S-So y-you w-w-would let the n-n-new Captain k-k-kill us?" the boy said, stuttering.
Sutton saw tears starting to run down Kitiku's face as he spoke. He had to think of something quickly. The guilt was starting to eat him from the inside out. "Kitiku, why don't you pick somewhere to sleep? I will keep watch all night. No one will kill you. Okay?" He would have crouched down to make Kitiku feel taller, but Kitiku already felt like a freak. Making him think taller would have had the opposite effect on feeling safe and comfortable. Much to his relief Kitiku drew a circle in the air with his fingers.
"P-Promise?" Kitiku said while signing.
"I give you my word." Both of them let out an enormous sigh of relief. 'It was hard to communicate with Kitiku,' Sutton thought. 'The boy rarely talks'. In fact, this was the longest conversation he had had with him. "You are a good boy Kitiku. Go to sleep now. Soon the morning will bring new adventures. Also, the tournament starts tomorrow. I hope that Lioa, James and Andrew do okay," Sutton whispered.
"We will," James responded.
Clarence stood behind the boys. His hand was resting against his chin. "We were thinking we should spend the night out here with you and Kitiku instead, Incarero."
Sutton scowled for a brief moment as Lioa sniggered, then he raised his right hand a little to let the group know they had to be quieter. "Kitiku is exhausted. All the excitement from yesterday has really messed his energy up. Even his Klink is tired." He listened carefully as the boy breathed lightly. His eyes then snapped up to Clarence, looking suspiciously at him.
"I still think your accent sounds too Southern. Incarero. Why don't you tell the truth? You were raised in Mesk. Your accent says it all," Clarence said.
"What's Mesk?" Andrew asked.
"Mesk is a mining town near Kishnar. The Elite Zone," Clarence calmly answered, it is too far inside the Southern border to be classed as a border town," Clarence calmly answered. "Judging by your thick accent, I will also hazard a guess that Incarero isn't your real name. It is possibly Mylious, or Kirkit or maybe even Incaresta. I think the last one sounds pretty obvious. You boys covered for this Southern imposter."
"You know an awful lot about the South. All your accusations are false," Sutton said in a panic. He was sweating more so than in the heat.
"I am thirty-nine years old. I have fought in so many battles between our Elite Lords. You learn a thing or two. You are a young soldier trying to be a hero. I tell you, as someone who has witnessed some atrocities, that being a hero gets you killed," Clarence smirked. "It would be cruel to let you die to a mob."
Kitiku stirred a little at the noise.
"Kitiku, go back to sleep, okay?" Sutton held Kitiku tightly with his left arm. He watched as the boy pressed his head harder into his shoulder.
Clarence sat down quietly and carefully. Andrew wandered over to Incaresta Sutton and sat down next to him. "I suppose you want this arm?" he said, offering his right shoulder as a pillow. Andrew pressed his wrist into his eye to rub them as he nodded. He leaned against Incaresta. "What are you going to do?"
"Nothing. I want to know about you. I am surprised you didn't compete." Clarence smiled.
"Oh. My Pokémon and I don't battle unless we have to. Battling isn't something I am particularly skilled in," he laughed a fake laugh quietly.
"The kids seem to like you. Do you have a family of your own?" Clarence remarked.
"A wife and two kids. My little girl is four, and my little boy is two. I can't believe how quickly they grow up," Sutton sighed.
"My eldest would have been twenty-two this year," Clarence replied.
"You have a family too?" Sutton asked, with a curious peak in his accent.
"Indeed. When it boils down to it, the flag we stand in front of, be it blue or green, doesn't matter. We are all one people united in front of a purple flag. Stand two young children, one from the North and one from the South, and they know no difference. Stand two grown men next to each other, one from the North and one from the South and expect some caution to be had." Clarence allowed Lioa and James to rest their heads on his shoulders. "These kids are exhausted. They have come a long way. They almost got enslaved. Slavers are such a big problem. The Lords need to do something about it."
"It's none of my business," Incaresta said hesitantly. "They need to stop the slavery of children for sure. Adults maybe not yet." Clarence, intrigued, listened harder. "I guess if they suddenly removed slavery altogether, there would be a complete and utter breakdown of society. It is part of how the world works. It cannot continue, but it is something that has been around our entire lives."
"Over-freeing society too quickly would cause a complete collapse, I agree." Clarence's blue eyes met Incaresta's green eyes. "We should get some sleep. You will take first watch."
"You do not fear me running away?" Sutton said warily.
"With those kids pinning you down asleep, and your emotions tied to making them stay asleep? No. Nor do I fear you trying to kill me. Again, you wouldn't let these children be traumatised. It is clear to me that as a father, you wouldn't want these kids to go through anything your kids could." Clarence rested his head against a rock and closed his eyes.
'He wasn't asleep yet, ' Sutton thought. He was right, though. Three of the children who lay asleep tonight under his watch were on their final warnings. He looked up to see the stars and the moon.
"You are so clean tonight. No clouds or darkness, no secrets hidden anymore. Just the clear blue sky and its shining lights in all its glory," Sutton whispered in his native tongue. "Mehal, I hope our kids are okay. I hope you are okay. I love you." He closed his eyes and softly whispered, "Giratina, ruler of our fate, please forgive me for I have sinned. It has been four years since my last confession. I have betrayed my Lord tonight and the night before. My body is possessed with the need to complete orders. My mind is confused. It hides lies, guilt and treachery. I am a bad man Giratina. I shall offer you the most sacred of gifts as an apology for my betrayal."
Sutton reached into his pocket, carefully avoiding Andrew, who snored a silent snore. He pulled out a photo of his wife and kids and tore it in half. Then tore it again, so it became a quarter of what it once was. "I offer you to share in my heart. I hope that is enough."
Clarence listened to the man speaking in Elkrat. He liked Sutton's attitude to sacrificial offerings.