"Coffee, Steven?" Birch called out, lifting the mug in his hand. "I had my assistant buy some the other day. Quite good, want some?"

The former champion, however, paid no attention, focusing his gaze intently on the electronic reader in his lap. Furrowed grey eyebrows became deeper as his eyes skimmed through its contents, oblivious to the world.

"Hellllooooo?"

He blinked, the professor's voice finally reaching his ear canal and filtering into his brain instead of passing right through to the other side."Sorry. You were saying something?"

"It's not nice to ignore people, Steven. You've been so caught up in reading- whatever it is you're reading- and skipping sleep that you've been wearing yourself thin." Birch set down a hot coffee mug in front of him. "Relax a bit. French vanilla with cream. No need to thank me."

"Thank you, Birch." I'm going to need it after what I just saw here… Taking a sip, he held out the electronic reader towards the professor, placing a finger where the important details were. "I just can't help it. Look."

"That's… an excavation finding in northern Kalos?" Birch read, wild brown eyebrows arching upwards. "I get that there are interesting things with the mega stones there and you did take a trip there and got attacked by Rayquaza but-"

"Birch, read the file, look at the picture of the object and the date it was recorded found. Fantastic doesn't quite do it justice."

He did, eyes widening as he saw the picture of what was unearthed. A black metallic wedge with a lustrous sheen was shown displayed in a glass case, glowing white markings running along the length of the metal. From the shape, it seemed to not have one, but two halves, like the piece of a key of sorts. But that wasn't what hit Birch.

"The markings-" He stuttered. "They're…"

"The same as the azure sphere, yes," Steven stated, a light giddiness in his voice. "It's certainly not an evolution sphere, but it bears identical markings as an object found hundreds of miles away, in Hoenn."A smile broke out of the man's mouth, like a child's after being given a chocolate- a golden wrapped chocolate."With the timestamp being twenty thousand years ago- knowing this, Birch, what can we conclude?"

"A global society," Birch whispered, almost breathlessly."…I think I need to make some calls," he said, holding a hand to his forehead. When Birch saw Steven's face, it had the look. The look.

Oh no, Birch gasped. The last time Steven got that look, he went off in search of the origins of mega evolution and nearly got blown to bits by Rayquaza. The one prior to that was nearly getting buried alive in a cave near the Forinan wilderness looking for rare stones."Don't do it, Steven. Don't. If this is the Kalos I know, it'll already be up for auction. Please tell me you're not thinking of buying the thing, are you? Your father won't be pleased about spending an enormous sum of money for some piece of metal."

"No- you're right. I won't buy it," Steven nodded absently, seeing the logic behind that. "I'm going to try and see if I can convince the buyer if I could study it for a while. Although… I don't think my former champion status will help me in persuasion." He pursed his lips, thinking. An idea popped into his mind and he raised a finger."I do know the gym leaders. Depending where the auction is happening, I may be able to get something of value." I need to see this. I need answers.

The professor raised a finger, then set it down, swallowing. "You do that. I'm going to go get something to help numb my mind, then maybe pass out."

Shaking his head, Steven took out of his phone, skimming through the contact list. "Let's see who we can get…"

After calling in a few favors and some references among the gym leaders, he finally managed to get Clemont to spill, as well as keep an eye on who bought the piece. A private auction between the nobility of Kalos had already been set up for it, and the bidding prices were… outrageous to say the least. The amount of shapely 0s weren't sexy, but terrifying. Nevertheless, the gym leader had (reluctantly) agreed to keep him posted after some prodding, and didn't seem to care as to why a former Hoenn league champion was so interested in a chunk of metal.

That's good. Clemont never did ask much questions, despite how devoted he is to his inventions… Steven took another drink from his now cold coffee, making a scrunched face at the taste. He put the coffee down and rested his chin on a fist.

The city of light… What a beautiful place…

This place blows.

Riven stared absentmindedly out at the street in a reclining chair on the balcony, watching people come and go across Vernal Avenue, counting how many Furfrous he'd seen so far. Well, he stopped counting after the fiftieth one. He picked up his smoothie and took a long drink, then went back to staring at nothing relatively important.

Nice weather was nice.

Sunny. Refreshing breeze. Blue sky. White clouds. There was nothing to complain about.

Except for being bored out of his god-damned mind, that is. A large sigh came out of his mouth after watching a white cloud shaped like a Seviper drag itself along the blue, slowly losing its shape gradually. There weren't any current jobs for him, and he'd already visited the marketplace to buy groceries. The day before he'd visited the Prism tower, which did serve to lessen the boredom. Key word, did. The gym battles were sort of exciting, but they left a bitter taste in his mouth and reminded him of Gale. Every passing day he spent here made him feel progressively like more of an ass. He wondered if she even remembered him anymore. To say nothing of his pokemon.

What'll I tell her? Oh, I've been gone doing deeds for a morally ambiguous group of mercenaries, here's some money! Screw it. One thing at a time. I'll deal with them when the time comes. If I still can, that is.

Hmmm. No annoying Fletchling around to give him grief either. That was a small relief. No Vizi shrieks were a good thing, but he'd gotten used to the aggravating little shit. He blew out a breath and ran a hand down his face. The others had stepped out to do whatever it was they did, leaving him alone in the house with nothing to do. Extending a leg out, he eyed the blinking tracker on his leg and scowled.

When is this going to come off? He reset his Furfrou counter. It's already been six damn months. Nera had called a few times, probing to see if Riven was in a divulgatory mood. Obviously, he told both her and her proverbial couch to go royally fuck themselves. Hence, the tracker still latched onto his leg, and even more surveillance after he'd been questioned about why he was spending so much time in the shadier parts of Lumiose. Like he was going to tell them. Cormac and Isole weren't too bad once he got used to them but still, they were loyal to the red devil.

His mind drifted off, thinking about the fight with the Pangoro. As strange as it was, he kind of missed almost dying. After taking it down, he'd felt incredibly proud and a little exhilarated, like winning a battle back when he was in the army. He laughed darkly.

I think I might be insane. No- I am insane. Or maybe I'm sane but I just don't realize it? And there's another Furfrou. Ouch. Just came out of the groomer, poor bastard.

The glass door to the balcony slid open behind him, followed by the shuffling of feet and a very half-assed attempt to scare him. Normally, Riven would have reacted, but he was so lethargic that he didn't even bother to check who it was.

Oh, it's the idiot."What do you want?" Riven asked lazily. "I'm busy doing nothing important. Go away, it's hard work."

"Huh. I was half expecting you to jump me with a knife or some sharp object," Cormac smirked, sitting down in the chair next to him. He set his wine glass down on the chair's arm, staring at the bored individual sitting across from him with bemusement. "You nearly broke my shoulder the last time I tried scaring you."

"I could have, but I didn't feel like it," Riven responded flatly.

"I bet, you look bored out of your mind."

"It's worse than it looks. There's nothing to fucking do. And I can't leave the city unless I'm on a job." He pointed at the tracker. "Thanks for that. So I've been here counting Furfrous for the better part of two hours. I need to do something. Any-" Riven stopped himself. "No, not anything." Sometimes, you need to learn how to shut up before shoving your foot in both your ass and mouth simultaneously.

Cormac frowned."Shit. You should have kept going. I was getting ideas. Errand boy, personal butler, punching bag…"

Case in point."Yeah, well, too bad. Where did you get back from?"

"Ironically, a client."

"Really?"

"Maybe." The older mercenary shrugged, chuckling lowly. "Who knows?"

Is that shit-eating grin his default face? Riven shot him a look of disapproval. "You're an asshole."

"And so are you," Cormac retorted. "I can just keep up with your sarcasm. Sometimes you make Isole want to kill you herself. Although personally, I'd rather have her suffocate me with my face in between her thi-"

"Cormac."

"Yeah?"

"There's a naked girl running across the street," Riven deadpanned, pointing a finger to the outside.

"Really?!"

"No. Tell me about the client."

"You're a dick. Are you sure you're not one of us?" Cormac asked, disappointed. "Sound awfully similar. You should be worried."

"True, maybe I'm an asshole. No- I am an asshole. I just don't want to be part of the asshole brigade Nera has going on. She doesn't understand the meaning of 'I'm not going to tell you shit', does she?" Riven scoffed. "So, did you get a client or not? If not, then shut the hell up and drink your nasty wine in silence."

"Hey, I'll have you know that Kalosian wine is the finest wine in all the regions. Well worth the money. Oh, but that's right! You're not old enough to drink. Poor baby Riven." Cormac let out a holler of laughter, clapping the young man on the shoulder. He was not amused.

"Do you want me to stab you?" Riven warned, lip twitching from the comment. A knife spun in his fingers from seemingly nowhere. It was amazing how he seemed to materialize the things like it was some sort of super power.

"Where do you even stash those things…? And how many of those do you even have?"

"Sixteen. What? I like knives. They make me feel warm and fuzzy inside." He still held the knife up, a nonplussed look on his face.

Reaching over, Cormac slowly put Riven's hand down. A large sigh and another shrug came from Cormac. "Okay, I've got bad news, and not so bad news."

"Great."

"Right. The bad news is that we got complaints. Lots of them."

"Complaints? Do mercenaries get those?" Riven asked, incredulous. "I thought being a mercenary was all freelancer business, and doing questionable things for people of ill repute. Or have you conformed to the law too? Kind of lame."

"Remember what I told you about reputation? And how it means whether you get contracts or not?" The other mercenary leaned in close, an aggravated expression on his face. "Well I meant it. And ironically enough, all the complaints are about you. I know you've been busy these past six months with jobs around Lumiose-"

"I hear a but," Riven said, feeling lethargy creeping in once again. Lecture mode. Fantastic.

"Lot of buts. One, when we told you to get information from that Veyan smuggler guy, we meant talking to him. Not sending half of his guys to the hospital and breaking both of his wrists. You also trashed the damn place and left blood everywhere from knife lacerations."

"He attacked me, with a pipe. Do you know what you can do with a pipe?"

"I want to know what the fuck you were doing," Cormac demanded. "Everywhere you go, there's either broken limbs or a trail of blood. We're asking you to tone down the violence just a tad, Rambo. There are rumors going around, mentioning your name. Well, your self-appointed name. And Viola hasn't been too successful explaining to Clemont about how virtuous you are. That's why we're shit out of work lately. Nobody wants to talk to us. At least not about domestic problems."

"Domestic problems?" Riven repeated, confused. Do they mean outside of… No. Not again. "Cormac, you know I hate those kinds of assignments. I made it perfectly clear last time."

"Yes, yes, I know. You don't like ranger assignments. You nearly died once and the last one you went on they had you use a wingsuit to ground a Noivern. That must have been traumatizing." Wish they recorded it…

"You have no idea. I still have the wingsuit too. They gave it to me as a 'souvenir'. God, they were assholes." Riven hissed. Why don't you try and plummet to the ground hundreds of feet in the sky while on top of a Noivern that can't fly because you just stuck a knife in its wing? It's so fun! "Crazy bastards… remind me of her…"

"Ooooooh. Remind you of that girlfriend of yours?" Cormac chided. "Circuit said she was really pretty. Well, he said both of the girls he saw there were pretty hot. He got a little jealous, you know. Ben said you were shit with women but I don't believe that for a second."

"She's not my girlfriend, Cormac." Riven corrected, giving him a pointed glare. "We're not anything like that. Just friends."

"You friendzoned her? God. So she's available, right?"

Three knives flew past Cormac's face and into the wall behind him. He turned around and saw the three objects firmly embedded into the wall. "Three? Where the hell did you get three from?"

"Next time it's going to be five. And they'll go straight for your happy place. One's bound to hit a ball. No more fun time for you. Then we can see your luck with women."

"Okay, okay. No more jokes about your not-girlfriend. I know it's a touchy subject, and I'm sorry you can't get back to her still but I don't call the shots." Cormac plucked one of the knives out of the wall and fiddled with it. They remained silent for an awkward minute, until the older mercenary spoke up, curiosity in his voice. "Say, Riven."

"What."

"Just wondering… What was the old world like?"

"Where's this coming from?" Riven asked. The question was out of the blue.

"Curiosity that killed the skitty."

"Didn't Isole tell you?"

"She basically said that it was cold and there was lots of ice."

"Figures," Riven muttered. "She spent all of her time in that ice city of hers; Raksa's hardly left their lands and the city's location in the mountains made it nigh impossible to siege, even for the Rose clan. They could have if they wanted to, but there weren't any hostilities between them, they were an entirely neutral bunch of cowards... I'd imagine she didn't know much about how chaotic everything was outside, or even how it looked. Very, very sheltered."

"How did you see it then?" Cormac inquired again. "You traveled a lot didn't you? Errrr, chased- but still. Nera and the twins told me bits and pieces, but they didn't know much either."

"Well, when I was a kid, I read once that there used to be grand cities, almost as big as the ones now. Whether that was true, I don't know. Those stories were ancient even for us, if you can believe that. They were probably already sacked and stripped of every usable material already. In our time, resources were scarce and the houses were shite. That's why seeing that beautifully manufactured signpost near Littleroot kind of surprised me. But if I were to give an example-" Riven thought briefly for a moment. "Comparing the two worlds, this one is like grabbing a bowl full of sugar biting into it, then drinking a barrel full of soda."

"Shit, that bad?"

"That bad. I hadn't felt a bed in a good six or seven years until I woke up in a hospital bed in Oldale, and that's after nearly getting turned into shredded cheese. And the food… You ever taste wild Seviper meat? You practically need to drink two pitchers of water to get it down your throat. Oh and did I mention everyone hated us and wanted us dead? The Roses even burned down the forests so we wouldn't be able to hide, even pushing us north so the cold could kill us instead. Bathing? What's bathing? When I finally got the chance to clean myself, the dirt peeled off like snakeskin."

"Geh." Cormac was taken back a bit. "Remind me never to want to be you. That's some fucked up stuff right there. Is that why you have a sweet tooth that can rival a kid's?"

"Hey, when you can finally get confirmation that your sense of taste works after years of eating nothing but roots, dry meat, the spare berry or two, and nuts- you tend to cherish food. I gorged myself the first few days here. Got seconds, thirds, fourths and the cupcakes- MY GOD, the cupcakes."

"You didn't get that as a prince? Nera told us you were like nobility of sorts." He scowled, recalling his last dealings with a pompous Kalosian noble. "God damn nobility. Dealing with viscounts and dukes is the most annoying thing you can ever do, let me tell you. It's like climbing a mountain barehanded."

"I've done that before," Riven said simply. "My combat teacher made me do it to build finger and upper body strength, I was practically a stick. Didn't get much in the ways of food in a shitty rundown town after my home city burned down."

Cormac blinked at him.

"What?" Riven cocked his head nonchalantly, sipping from the smoothie.

"It's just you saying, 'my home city burned down', and 'I've done that before', so nonchalantly. This is normal for you? You're starting to make a hell of a lot more sense and I don't know whether to be off-put or genuinely terrified."

A shrug answered him. "Different times then. And being from a great family back where I came from was a little different from what you're probably thinking."

"Did you get lessons in fighting and the arts?" Cormac asked, rolling his eyes. "You did, didn't you."

Riven was about to interject, but bit the inside of his cheek instead. Damn.

"You're quite the tragic prince archetype aren't you?" He mused, tossing the knife back to its owner.

"Guess it's more common than I thought?" he said, flipping the weapon in the air.

"It is in fictional stories and legends, but in real life? No. The kings and princes are usually dicks."

"That's comforting," Riven shrugged. "My dad- father- was the warlord. We didn't have kings, not really. Only the best commander lived in the 'palace' of sorts, and my father just happened to be really good at battle strategy. Come to think of it, my family name had the most warlords of them all. Cerul kind of became a name associated with ruling, I guess?"

"And your mother?"

"She was basically the one who ran the city. And she was not a useless 'Queen', by the way. We taught everyone to fight. She used to fight with my father on the frontlines until they, you know, fell in love. Wow, that's creepy." He twitched at the thought of them doing "stuff". "Cerul's also had to have blue eyes. Don't ask me why it was a thing, I never got a clear explanation."

"But you're heterochromic."

Riven gave an obvious nod. "Can't believe the shit I got for that. Seriously, kids are assholes."

"Hmmmm. Blue eyes only huh, that's pretty weird. Still, it's fairly progressive compared to our history. Nera told me that Rosan women couldn't fight or hone their abilities. And she had nothing but sisters."

"Maybe because the Roses were a gigantic bunch of phalluses and had their heads permanently stuck up their asses? Nah, the Roses had allies and a large expanse of land. Their women didn't need to fight. Stupid idea but I could care less what those bastards did. All I know is that we didn't have a choice." Riven laughed ruefully. "You don't have time to be picky when everyone wants you dead. We had no allies, no one to support us. So women fought on the frontlines too. My CO was a woman, actually."

"Really? You took orders from a girl? You can barely take orders now."

"Yeah, but-"Riven fixed him an incredulous look. "She was scary, man. Best hand to hand fighter in the entire army, no one was able to beat her in spars. I was better using a sword, but she was good- really good. Deadly with just about every weapon, but her favorite weapon was a dagger she always carried around. Watching her fight was something…"He looked longingly at the knife in his fingers, starting to tremble. He paused, pocketing the knife after what seemed like an eternal minute.

"You sound fond of her."

"I thought of her as a mentor, a crazy mentor, but a mentor nonetheless. She always knew what to do. I didn't. Still don't."

"Did she… you know?"

"Yeah... I knew it would happen someday… but I didn't think I'd ever be ready for it. I was kind of hoping I would go before she did, but things didn't happen that way. We got ambushed on the plains somehow- outnumbered and with nowhere to run. So we fought and drove them back, but -" He shook his head.

"A pyrrhic victory," Cormac nodded.

"Too many of our own died that day. She took a blade to the gut. Died in front of me." He paused. "I had to bury her. Along with almost all of my squad."

Cormac was deathly silent, surprised at the person he was witnessing right now. Guess that snark is his form of coping. Heh. Show me a sarcastic person, and I can see a wounded person. We all have our scars. Some just run deeper than others. "I probably shouldn't be asking this but, you ever want to go back? Isole and Nera thought about it, but I'm not sure if you would."

"…No, I don't think I ever want to go back. There weren't any happy endings there. There never will be," Riven replied quietly, noting the tranquility of the clouds as the clash of steel, claws, and flame rang fresh in his mind. Traces of anger and hatred filtered up, but he suppressed them. I'm not there anymore. I'm not. Forget it. The sounds of battle ceased."Can we talk about something else?"

"Yeah… I think I've had enough depressing stories for today too."

"I agree."

Both men chuckled.

Cormac waved a hand, trying to dismiss the depressing air around them."Anyways, my curiosity is sated for now. Onto more uplifting matters. I did manage to find a job for you. But it's less of a job and more of an… investigation, per say."

Riven's gloomy mood was vanquished, replaced by intrigue."Per say?"

"Yeah… Apparently the owner of Parfum Palace is paying some serious cash for someone to investigate a series of… incidents."

Hmmmm. Parfum Palace. Yes… that was the popular tourist location full of expensive gold lined everything. It brought in a large sum of money from tourists who came from the other regions to Kalos, paying exorbitant amounts just to get a tour inside. Stupid? Yes. Profitable? Hell yes. He crossed his arms. "Let me guess, deaths? Because if so, then that can't be good for business. I'm going to go out on a limb here- dead tourists?"

"Ehhhhh-" Cormac waggled a hand. "Not so much dead tourists, but it sure is turning their collective pants brown."

Riven winced. "Mauling? Stabbings? What?"

"More like, uh, veggie sliced."

"Veggie sliced."

"As in, chopping vegetables. Only with humans."

Riven winced again.

"Yup. But the problem is, the killings are way too close to the tourist grounds. The only reason the bodies were discovered was because a girl strayed off too far and saw corpses everywhere, with all the messy details. Screamed her tiny lungs out. You can imagine what that'd do to the palace's reputation. Kind of like the shit you're pulling lately."

"You did say build a reputation," Riven deadpanned, "didn't say how."

"Oh, playing with semantics? Those are dangerous waters, friend. Regardless, all the attacks have occurred between a rough window of midnight to early morning, around three to four a.m. Interesting thing though, is that all of the victims were actually trying to break in."

"They were criminals?" Riven asked, confused. That didn't make any sense.

"Mm-hmm. You would think the late night shift guard would get attacked, but nope. He said that he always feels like he's getting watched, but that's the nature of the job. There's pokemon everywhere. Still, it's incredibly odd that only good for nothings and thieves are the ones getting cut to pieces." And the ones trying to investigate…

"Could be Scyther?" Riven guessed. "I've had an encounter with them. A very painful one. Those chitin blades of theirs are sharp enough to cut through a torso if needed."

"No," Cormac disagreed. "The cuts are too clean. Almost like a blade did it. Could be a killer. If it is, then it won't be long before he moves on to someone innocent. We're not police to be handling this stuff, but that also makes us the most qualified. We can offer a more… permanent solution." His tone turned grave. "If it is a psychopath. Don't hesitate. I probably don't even have to tell you that though. We don't have enough information yet to give a definite answer about what it actually is, but you should perform some kind of reconnaissance first. You used to be a scout, right?"

A slow nod.

"Good. Check the place out, take a tour of the palace. Here's a map of the grounds and where the corpses were found. There were no signs of blood anywhere but the places in which the corpses were, most likely indicating that they were killed within seconds. Not even a trainer could react that fast. There's also no lights there. Whatever is doing this is striking from pitch black darkness. Which is why we need your eyes, Riven."

He cringed. Sure, just send the only person who can see in the dark to investigate a murderer of sorts in a hedge maze. What fun.

I suppose it doesn't matter. Cut apart though… That's disturbing. Very disturbing. He shrugged once and stood up, checking for the twelve knives he had in his jacket, as well as grabbing his sword case. "I'm off then. I'll be back tomorrow… maybe." Grabbing Cormac's wine, he stared at it for a couple of seconds, drank it, twitched furiously, and lept off the balcony, startling a few people below.

Cormac scowled. "We have a door! Use that next time, you uncultured swine!" Shaking his head after Riven shot him an obscene gesture, he settled back into the chair, grumbling about having to refill his wine. "Reckless kids I swear…" Shuffling into the kitchen, he met Isole, who was currently munching on an apple with the enthusiasm of a Miltank chewing cud.

"Did you send him on the Parfum assignment?" She asked, taking another bite. "You did tell him how many people died trying to investigate that, right? That's six detectives and three rangers. Not counting the fatalities that already occurred. I told you to hold off on that and you disobeyed. Do you want him to die?"

"It's not suicide. He's good; he'll be fine. Danger is his thing isn't it? Definitely needs to think about getting pokemon though- reckless, prone to violence, and just being human puts you at a disadvantage." He gave her a sidelong glance. "You had time to get that apple and wait for me to come out. You could have told him the risks yourself, but you didn't. Something up your sleeve?"

"Perceptive," she grinned, crunching into the fruit. "I had a talk with Circuit."

"That phallus muncher. What about?"

"Riven's behavior lately."

"You talking about those frequent 'strolls' of his?" Cormac guessed. "Yeah, I didn't find him going into extremely shady and gangster filled parts of Lumiose suspicious at all."

"Not just that. I'm also talking about- well… he spent six hours in the same spot in an alley, then stumbled across the western side of Lumiose before getting back. It was really odd, and it's happened like four times this month alone." She paused. "And the sleep talking is starting to worry me."

"Sleep talking?"

"Yeah. Not mumbles either. Like full blown conversations with someone."

"Could be calling someone," Cormac said, throwing up ideas. "Or maybe he talks to himself. He does that a lot on his own. Wouldn't be a longshot to say he does it in his sleep too."

"I thought about that, but his holo caster has only been used a few times, all calls to us directly. No, it's like listening to a person speak over the phone on the subway. You listen to them talk but-"

"You only hear one part of the conversation."

Isole nodded. "And the cold sweats."

"Huh?"

She scratched the side of her head, then threw the apple core in the trash. "I went into his room to check up on him the other night. Fast asleep but he was sweating a river and his skin was cold as ice. Sometimes, he even growls. And the atmosphere in the room just feels…wrong. I got uncomfortable just being in there."

"You talked to Kai about it?"

"Tried. He refused to talk to me." Isole looked downcast, almost sorrowful. "I shouldn't have asked him for this…"

"He's not too happy about Nera wanting to question the kid is he?" Cormac winced. "I knew they weren't on speaking terms but I never thought it'd be this bad. You being here must be making things difficult. You and him had… history."

"That's over now, Cormac."

"Sure it is. That's easy for you to say; you're the one who left without saying anything, you icy bitch," he said bluntly. A dagger of ice pointed towards his throat, feeling the cold sting of the blade on skin. "Hurts, but it's the truth, Isole. He was your mentor and almost like a brother to you. You living here must bring back memories for him. I just don't want to get caught in the crossfire if Nera and him decide to have words. Even if I work for her, I don't trust her very much, especially with how ruthless she is. Should've heard what she suggested. Yeesh."

"What did she suggest?" Isole asked. "Don't tell me she-"

"No, she didn't. Ben and I told her why that was a very, very stupid idea. You want to keep someone working for you by using their friends? You don't harm them. Usually they're complacent and follow orders to the letter because they're kind and afraid of the repercussions. Also, they tend to be naïve and not very bright. Something Riven is not. We're at an impasse and he knows it." He scoffed. "What happens when you try the same thing on someone who lived their entire life telling their enemies to go shove it, while paired with the fact that they care very little for their own safety?"

"It's like trying to make tea at the top of a mountain," Isole muttered, crossing her arms. "This is problematic."

"Yeah, so she tried taking it to the next logical step. Which usually works under normal circumstances. Key word, normal."Hmph, logical isn't always synonymous with intelligent.

"Hurting his friends?" Isole looked shocked, and a little uneasy. "Are you serious?"

"It's Nera, after all. Don't look so surprised. But if she went through with it, there's no way it would end well for us. That much despair and hatred… That negativity? It'd be bad, really bad. Knowing how he is, he wouldn't stop. Crazy bastard didn't then, he won't now. Loosening the few screws he does have tight in his head would be unwise. The only way we're going to get him to spill is if we give the freedom he desires."

"But if we do, he might just disappear. He has no records, or name anywhere. He could become anyone. Tracking him down would be impossible."

"I think it's a risk we have to take. Although, it's not the most popular opinion." Cormac gripped the bridge of his nose. "And we might have fucked everything up already with how everything was handled. If I was him, I wouldn't trust us either. It'd be a small miracle if he continued working with us- small meaning practically non fucking existent. Any luck tracking down what we're looking for?"

"Yes, I did. After dealing with those annoying and perverted nobles, I got a place and information about the artifact."

"Did they grope you?" Cormac's eyes turned deadly. "If they did I'll break them. Those lovely curves are mine. Only I get to massage those lady lum-"

She kicked him in the shin and elbowed him in the ribs. "They're going to auction it out. And there's no way we have enough money to buy it. We're going to have to get creative."

"Shouldn't be a problem," he mused, massaging his shin. "Where does Nera get this information about what exactly we're looking for?"

"The psychic, remember?" Isole reminded. "The ancient pieces of man, shattered in halves, one in a King's land, the other in sky's hand, wreathed in dragonfire's wake. Ridiculous riddles, but the first part is talking about Kalos, at least that's the only place with a recognizable history of kings. And two halves to form a key… but a key used for what? So unclear, we just have to find them and see with the psychic says, maybe then we can get some concrete answers and not confusing riddles."

"I'm kind of bothered only Nera knows who the psychic is. And how do we know that the psychic isn't lying?" Cormac asked. "Seems fishy is all. I definitely wouldn't trust someone who talks in riddles, and I've read stories like that, it never ends well."

"This isn't one of your adventure novels, Cormac. So far the psychic hasn't let us astray. Least not deliberately. It did lead us to Dewford, but Riven got there first, and is stubbornly refusing to share what he found."

"Good point. But why is Nera so obsessed with finding out what happened? Riven told me that this place is leagues better than the old world, and from what he looked like describing it, let's just say I'm happy I wasn't born there. Happier still that I wasn't one of Riven's people, dear god that was some fucked up stuff… My real question is why all the resources and time spent searching for dusty old relics that may or may not be related to the world you once knew. I don't get it. We're mercenaries not archeologists."

"You don't understand," Isole said plainly. "You were born here. I mean, I did come here when I was really young but- to get taken to a world that isn't your own… it just- it bugs you. Like a splinter that just won't come out. None of what was left behind exists today and it's weird. I think about it all the time and just wonder…"

"Maybe these are things man isn't meant to know?" Cormac suggested, putting on his best conspiracy theorist impression. "Or maybe, not meant to rediscover?"

"Cormac, go get drunk, you'll make more sense."

"Hey, just throwing it out there. So this artifact. Where is it being auctioned?"

Isole let out a small smile, heading to the balcony, and pointed north.

"Oh." Cormac said. "Well that's convenient."

So much gold it's hurting my eyes, Riven thought, blinking furiously at all the gold laced paintings and décor within the palace.

It had taken him the better part of a day to traverse the route to Parfum(skates were great) and it was already late afternoon. The gatekeepers initially questioned why he was coming so late since the tours had already ended(there weren't any because of the incident, he just guessed the gatekeepers were full of Tauros shit), but one mention of the attacks and he was let in without so much as a word.

The guide nervously gave him a layout of the palace and its grounds, growing more unsteady as they approached the maze. At one point Riven had to move the poor guy back to the main section of the palace so he wouldn't have an anxiety attack. He guessed that this was the guide that witnessed the corpses. Pieces of the corpses, anyway.

Making his way through the maze to get to know the layout, he came across the statues of the Unovan Legendaries. He stared in fascination, wondering just how powerful a legendary was. If they were powerful enough to send him and others through time, then what did the others do? The sun was trickling downwards, which meant there was still about another five or so hours until the time window for the attacks began.

Guard was right. It feels like the entire field is watching me, Riven noted, the hairs on the back of his neck rising on end. Walking through the maze in the darkness of the early morning gave it an entirely different atmosphere. Creepy couldn't quite describe it.

So far, however, he hadn't seen a single pokemon. There was no sounds of scurrying in the grass, or the telltale clicking of bugs, nor the fluttering of wings. Just… silence. And yet, he felt eyes on him. Opening up the map and using his holo caster's screen as a light source, he found his position on the map. The murder sights were just a little further. They were a bit spread out, so he had to check them all out. They all seemed to be in the dead ends of the maze too. Strange.

When he arrived at the first location, he didn't feel anything particularly off. The grass was stained from the blood, but that was understandable. The bodies had long since been removed. Judging from the flaking, it was already a few days old. The other locations didn't have much of merit either, just stained grass and the smell of iron.

There's nothing here, and no pokemon at all. This might be a person. He's probably watching me now. I should head to a more open area, leave less room for sneak attacks.

Riven vigilantly stood near the Reshiram statue, looking for any threats. A rustling of ferns came from one of the hedges, and he instinctively drew his sword, the zing of metal piercing the silence of the night. He pointed the blade at a small creature with matted grey fur and two large ears. It stopped in its tracks, staring at him with beady, lifeless purple eyes.

"The fuck...?" Riven put the sword down, staring at the small pokemon. It didn't show an ounce of apprehension or wariness. It simply… stared. After five minutes of standing in the same spot with the same look on its face, he was starting to get a little uncomfortable. "Can you stop staring at me?"

The little creature didn't even blink. In fact, it hadn't blinked at all. Its eyes seemed to look straight into Riven's soul.

Oooooooookay… Riven moved his hands forward. "Shoo. Go. Away. Over there," he said, pointing to the other side of the hedge maze. "Please fuck off, I can't keep watch with your creepy little ass here."

The furry pokemon continued staring at him, like it was mocking him. Or maybe it wasn't. It's expression was as unreadable as a blank slate of rock. What startled Riven was when its eyes began to glow blue and a collection of berries emerged from a nearby bush, slowly levitating around the tiny creature. The pokemon slowly turned around, eyeing him as much as it could, and made its way across the maze with its tiny legs and a casual stroll, floating berries and all.

"Now I've seen some shit," Riven said, slack-jawed. "I don't even know what to say to-"

Swordsman…

Riven whipped around on heel, glaring into the dark corridor of the maze, sword at the ready. His eyes scanned the darkness around him, seeing only hedges and faint contours of objects. Whatever he'd heard, and oh he heard something, it didn't strike him as a human voice. It sounded… disembodied, like a whisper of the wind in a meadow at night, there, but not there. And not at all pleasant. The tone was raspy, deep, and unnerving.

He crouched in expectance, but couldn't help not noticing the grey creature standing on the other side of the field, munching on levitating berries with those lifeless eyes. It was still standing there, looking at him, as if he was some kind of entertainment or amusing sight. Its behavior was starting to raise mountain sized spikes in his paranoia.

Are you the one doing that? Riven speculated. The levitation explained a lot, indicating that the pokemon was most likely a psychic. A very creepy psychic. Everyone knew that psychics were capable of strange things, even simulating poltergeist behavior if they were unable to control themselves, or make people hear voices. But telepathy didn't work on him. Baron tried. There was no way that thing was behind this.

Steel in hands… Opponent… Test, came the voice, this time directly behind him.

Metal swung through the air, a nearly soundless movement, like the blade of an assassin. Riven turned halfway around before falling ungracefully on the floor in a split second effort to avoid decapitation. As he was falling, he caught the outline of a thick, double edged blade the color of freshly spilt blood, its crimson metal a blur in the speed of the next attack. The follow up blade sliced into Riven's cheek, the acute pain of the wound causing him to shut his eyes momentarily.

Ruler's blood…

Trying to get his own sword up, Riven lifted it with his hand, but was stopped when what felt like silk wrapped around his arms. Within the next few seconds, excruciating pain raced through his body, his own ability to stand being drained out of him. His body grew sluggish nearly instantly, and even his eyelids refused to stay open. His willpower, his strength, his thoughts; hell, his very soul was being sucked out of him.

You're not going to take me… You. Will. Not, Riven ground out mentally, resisting. In a desperate bid with the few seconds he had left, he felt the other inside stir. Dark energy exploded outwards in a violent burst of black wisps, freeing him from the soul sucking touch of his assailant. The world faded to nothingness as he collapsed.

"Ri…"

Voices. Kind of annoying too

"…ven!"

Huh? Isole, Cormac? What are they doing here?

Opening his eyes, Riven noticed that he was in one of the palace rooms, the golden highlights of the wall making it painfully obvious. Wait, what am I doing here? His handlers were staring down at him, concerned. Not concerned in the parent-ly sense, but more like the-

"What the fuck happened to you?"

-Sort of way.

The younger mercenary winced as a sting came from his left cheek. It seemed that they had already dressed the wound, but it was still fresh- and large enough- to sting. He shook his head weakly, still feeling horribly exhausted."Trust me, I'd like to know too. God, why do I feel so weak?"

"You feel weak?" Isole inquired.

"Yeah, my arm feels like a noodle right now." He looked outside into the courtyard from the bed, seeing the bright rays of the sun blanket the grass and the clouds. "It's daylight out, how long have I been unconscious?"

"Couple hours," Cormac answered. " The keeper found you. And uh… the entire area around you was trashed, like an explosion went off. You were in the center, out like a light with a bloody mug and constriction marks around your forearms. What attacked you? Did you see anything strange?"

"I don't know what did, all I know is that it happened way too quickly for me to get a good look at the attacker. I did look at the weapon though," Riven said, recalling what little details his exhausted mind could muster.

"What did it look like?" Isole asked eagerly. "Could I.D. whoever's doing this."

"It had a completely crimson blade, almost like a sword dipped in a pool of blood and never cleaned. Double-edged. Thick. Looked like a shortsword. I couldn't tell if there was another, I only saw a blur before I got jumped."

"This guy snuck up on you? Of all people? I thought you were cautious," Cormac said, disappointed.

"I am cautious. No one is more cautious than I am, there was something going on there. You mentioned if I saw anything strange? Well, there definitely a whole lot of fuckery going on. There was that creepy little shit-"

"What creepy little shit?"

"Uh, a small grey pokemon with these lifeless beady eyes. I saw it come out of a bush and it stared at me for a good five minutes or so, then it just left and went over to the other side and did it again."

"That was an Espurr," Isole explained. "They're, erm… creepy. Especially at night. They're generally harmless- at least physically. For your sanity? Fairly devastating."

"Fairly is putting it lightly," Riven said, getting a shiver. "Creepy pokemon are creepy…"

"You see anything else? Or hear?"

"Hmmm. Before I got attacked, I heard a voice. Sounded male, and not friendly at all. I couldn't pinpoint the exact location of it though, it was like whoever it came from wasn't even physically there. And no, the Espurr couldn't have done it, it's a psychic. The reason I got jumped wasn't because I was careless."

No. His caution was on overdrive at the time. He wouldn't miss anything. Usually, when someone approached you, your intuition gives a feeling that something is behind you, whether it's a small tingle, or shivers. On grass, however, a human or pokemon would have made some sort of noise. Even the most light-footed would have made some form of audible sound with the quiet of the maze. The maze had been dead silent at the time, Riven would have heard a pin drop there.

"Whatever attacked me didn't make a sound until the blade swung in the air and nearly separated my head from my neck. I would have heard someone approach me if they were human, and I was the only one there at the time. The Espurr was too but it was on the other side. You could say an assassin, but I've never encountered one that good."

"I would've said ninja," Cormac muttered. "Sounds more correct."

Isole frowned at him."Ignore the idiot."

"Implying I don't already do that?" Riven scoffed.

"How do you feel then? Apart from extremely tired?" She asked.

"Now that you mention it… I do feel kind of strange." He said, looking up at the ceiling. "I-I can't quite describe it, I feel something inside- it's … flowing." He held out a hand. Is it like what Will felt? Maybe I should try it…

He focused his thoughts on the sensation and flexed his hand. Nothing happened.

"Well, that was disappointing," he murmured, fully expecting something amazing. At least Will shot fire out of his hands.

"What were you doing?" Cormac asked, raising an eyebrow. "Trying to touch the stars, about to make some corny speech about your dreams and aspirations?"

"No, you fuckwit. I was trying to see if I could-"A blast of dark energy shot out of his hand as he waved it, startling Cormac and Isole, and destroying a nearby painting, leaving it blackened and ruined."-Do that." Realizing what just happened, Riven grinned up at them.

Like a bastard.

"Call Nera," Isole ordered, scrambling. "Call her now."

I know this one took three weeks to come out, and it may be kind of slow, but I've been very busy as of late so forgive the lateness/sloppiness. Enjoy the chapter, I'll try to update sooner next time.