Chapter 24: Cri de Coeur
"Is it?"
Nida and Elty fidgeted their claws and fumbled around for something to say back as Pleo's words lingered in the air. Margi said that Protectors like Pleo were responsible for getting rid of humans in their world? It was crazy-sounding, but even so…
Just what could they tellthe troubled little Lugia to try and make him feel better?
"I… I don't know, Pleo," Nida finally replied, going up to the white bird and nuzzling at one of his wings. "I really don't think it is… And I don't want it to be-"
"Dosyć. It's been a terrible day and I don't want to be out here if we're not getting paid for it," Elty interrupted, shaking his head. "Let's just go find something to do in town to scrape together enough to get something for dinner. No sense in beating ourselves up out here."
"Maybe that is the best thing to do for now," Nida sighed, looking up at Pleo. "It couldn't hurt to calm down, at least."
"I… I guess…" the young Protector reluctantly answered. The three then set off on the path back for town, their spirits lowered by their work being snatched away from them at the last moment and an uncertainty that gnawed at Pleo's mind…
Could Margi be telling the truth? Were Pokémon like him really responsible for the hardships the world had been put through? Did they make the humans disappear? And if so… would he wind up hurting the Pokémon he had befriended?
"Eh?! Kiran?! I thought that Osmund's debriefing was at the Guild Hall! Isn't that where the medic's hut is?"
In Bluewhorl, the Guild Hall stood on the bluff overlooking the harbor, but instead of going there, Kiran had lead Crom along to the town's Guardhouse. Even though the young Druddigon had never been inside, he passed by the place now and then, and was pretty sure that the local guards saw the medics at the Guild just like everybody else.
Then why were they here?
"I honestly don't know what got into that gecko," the Swellow sighed, shaking his head as he alighted on the eave of a roof. "Stubborn pride, perhaps, but if you want to be technical, we aremeeting him at a Guild Hall. A former one, anyways."
"We… are?" Crom asked, tilting his head.
"Yep, this Guardhouse used to be the Guild Hall back when I was a wee little Taillow," Kiran chirped. "After Hatteras wound up becoming mayor and the guards shifted around a bit, they traded places with the Guild."
Crom supposed that the surroundings looked the part. The pair passed the administrative shacks and the open-air stump-desks of the local school. The place where young Pokémon, after leaving the care of guardians like Hariti, came to learn simple math and how to read the town's record of its history and fairy tales. After being fed stories of legendary dungeon explorers such as Shiren the Wanderer or Poulet the Adventurer for a few seasons, there would inevitably be a stream of young recruits for apprenticing teams like Kiran's to pick up and show the ropes of traversing Mystery Dungeons.
Still, it was hard to guess how the two-story structure built into the side of a hill ahead of them with its flat, earthen roof could possibly have once been the Guild Hall. While the building ahead certainly wasn't small, it certainly seemed too small to hold everything that the guild did today! And most puzzling of all…
"How did anything ever work when everything was under one- oof!"
As the Druddigon plodded along, he bumped into the large, chitinous carapace of some passing Bug-Type and stumbled backwards, the unfortunate Pokémon stumbling forward with a cry.
"Ack!"
Crom brushed himself off and opened his mouth to begin to apologize when he noticed that the Pokémon nursing the spot where Crom had scraped him, was a male Scyther with a five-tailed blotch on his head…
"Eh?! Ander?!" Crom stammered, the Druddigon unconsciously folding his wings back. "Wh-What are you doing here?!"
"I've been busy all night putting things in order back at the shop for my departure!" the Scyther blurted out. The mantis lowered his head and turned the cutting edges of his blades inwards towards his body, as Pokémon of his species did whenever the occasion called for making themselves seem smaller. Once the Druddigon seemed to be sufficiently calmed, he eased out of his stance and continued on. "I couldn't just leave Sandra and Cassie completely unprepared, and… Well…"
The mantis sighed and buzzed uneasily, looking down at the ground.
"Truth be told, I'm honestly not sure if I'm ready for this… Why do you insist on putting yourselves in all this danger? And for-"
"They're my friends!"
The Bug-Type's words felt like a jab to the Druddigon's gut. He had already failed his teammates once trying to come to his aid. How could he just turn away from him?
"And Pleo too, Ander!" Crom huffed back, his words coming out with an exasperated growl. "He's our Protector! And-!"
"Easy, Crom!" Kiran's voice interjected, the Swellow swooping down beside the young Druddigon and training a stern gaze which made the young dragon bite his tongue. The bird shook his head during the uneasy calm and cleared his throat to speak up. "I understand that we have some, rather- er… opposing views about what we'll find once this mission is over. But we can agree that we still need to find the kids, yes?"
"Of course!" Crom cried. Ander tapped his scythes together nervously, and begrudgingly chimed in.
"Well… they would need to be found eventually, but-"
"So then, shouldn't we find out what it is we'll need to do in order to reach that goal together?" the Swellow chirped, beating his wings out wide for attention in his usual, cheery, and somewhat oblivious way. "Why, knowing your objective inside-out is the first rule of being part of a Rescue Team!"
The Scyther stared and blinked at the blue and white bird. Wasn't this the sort of routine Kiran went through with the Pokémon he helped train? Why was he talking to him in such a manner?
"Erm… Kiran, you do realize that I know how a Rescue Team works, right?"
"Oh! That'll save some time, then!" the bird warbled back. "But… let's head in for now, shall we?"
Ander sighed and shook his head as the group pushed aside a curtain of dried reeds covering the entranceway into a room with earthen walls and floors. There was a collection of papers posted on a wooden board much like the mission listings back at the guild near the front. Further back on one end was a room with a simple stump-table. A pair of idling guards were chattering in between mouthfuls of some small donuts set out on it with a similarly furnished, but empty room on the opposite side, likely a waiting room.
There were a pair of rooms towards the back of the room, their entrances located behind sturdy-looking doors that chanced to be left ajar. One next to a sign labeled "Records" held a large number of chests filled with various scraps of paper, the other a trio of empty stone-lined cells that were blocked with metal bars (the oppressive atmosphere over the last few days must have kept the customary bar fight of the week at bay), and a hallway that continued on further ahead. Along the wall outside the waiting area, there were stairs that led up to the second level made of tile steps atop compacted earth. The floor above had some rooms that the three couldn't seem to get a handle on, but… which of them was Osmund in?
"So," Crom murmured to himself. "Where is Osmund anyways?"
"Why, at his desk, of course," a voice answered from behind along with a soft prod at his back. Crom flinched, flattened out his wings, and whirled around, where much to his shock, he came face-to-face with a horned, blue-furred spike ball with piercing red eyes.
"AAAAH! K-KIRAN!"
The Druddigon yelped and quickly darted behind the elder Pokémon with him. After exhaling the Dragon-Type slowly calmed down, though stubbornly refused to get any closer to this most sneaky Cazadragones.
"Erm, Marley," the Swellow sighed, putting a wing over his face. "You really do need to work on being a bit more disarming."
"Eh? But I can disarm Pokémon just fine!" the Nidorina protested. "Why, I've even done it literally once before! Remember that Starm-?"
As some wide eyed looks went about the three, Crom flinched at the idea of what 'literal disarming' might entail, prompting Ander to hastily buzz in interruption.
"Aherm. You mentioned that Osmund was at his desk?" he asked. "Shouldn't he… well… be at bedrest?"
"He chose to put his bed a bit closer to his normal work. Nothing wrong with that," the Nidorina responded, licking her paw. "He's in the room up the stairs and to the left. Follow me, we've been expecting you."
The Nidorina hopped on ahead, leading the group up the stairs, and into a room overlooking the main foyer with a glassless window. In the back, on some hastily matted bedding next to a wooden table, the form of a Sceptile with bandages about his abdomen sat up uneasily with Marley's help, struggling with the lingering aches from his wounds.
"About time," he grunted. "I was kinda hoping that I wouldn't need to give another rundown in the morning-"
"Eh?!" Crom cried, as he shrank back and began to look more and more sheepish. "Oh! Er… sorry."
"No, it's fine! It's fine!" Osmund insisted. "I understand that Pokémon have their own things going on, and I can't really begrudge a Pokémon also trying to sleep off wounds."
"So what is it that we need to know for this mission, Osmund?" Kiran asked.
"Well, first off, we're going to need to teach you a thing or two about blending in with the right crowd," the Sceptile answered. "Can you do the honors, Marley?"
The Nidorina fished about a satchel slung across her shoulder and brought out three lavender scarves, unfurling them on the table. On each of them was a solitary, purple square…
"Huh?!" Crom cried out. "But those are Company scarves!"
"They are, yes. And they're your lifeline for this mission," the Sceptile instructed. "It'll get you in the door to enough places to be useful as long as you don't make too many visible waves."
"So… then we should wear them like we see the guards around town wearing them?" Crom wondered. "As headbands?"
"Eh?" Marley replied, tilting an ear back in puzzlement. "Of course not!"
'Of course not'? That seemed strange to Crom and drew a puzzled head tilt. After all, the guards in town wore them as headbands… So why wouldn't they also want to do the same?
"Huh? But… wouldn't that make us fit in better?"
"Well, for one, local styles are exactly that. Styles worn by locals," Marley responded. "Why, if you wear un 'Cintillo Trombense' and say 'Hola, buenos días' bright and early in the morning there, you'll reveal yourself as an outsider right away!"
"To be fair, you might have some luck pulling it off in some bigger settlements," the Sceptile added. "But yeah, the safest route when you need to wear those things is to wear them normally…"
Osmund undid the band around his head and unfurled it. After quickly draping the lavender cloth about his neck and tying a loose knot at the back, he revealed a distinct, if wrinkly square with four smaller ones anchoring its corners.
"Like so. Keep the edges of the squares parallel to your chin. It won't make you popular in many cases, but you'll be better off your lumps in most of those cases."
"Mind you, you'll need to act differently in different situations," Marley said. "If you act the same way to First-Ranks and Third-Ranks alike, you'll just be begging to get smacked around."
"Third-Ranks?" Crom asked.
"Company scarves show off their rank by the pattern on them," Kiran explained. "These scarves on the table are First-Rank scarves, and the one Osmund's wearing is a Second-Rank."
"That's right, and long story short, the more purple squares you see and the more complicated the design, the higher-ranked the Pokémon you're talking to is," the Sceptile grunted. "If you get stuck with a chore by a higher-ranked Pokémon, just take the job to get them off your case, and ditch it when they're not looking."
"Eh, why I'd never recommend that level of passivity, Osmund," Marley scoffed, waving a paw. "Not in all cases anyways. If there's a higher-ranked Pokémon that has worse bark than bite, take it out of their hide if you have to!"
The three looked at each other warily. That was something that would probably work for Marley, but… for them…? In potentially unfriendly places?
"Erm, I think we'll stick with the stealthier approach, thanks," Ander buzzed. "But why would we need to deal with other Company Pokémon in port again, Osmund?"
"It's how you'll get information if you have to! If you've got a scarf, you can go into Guardhouses like these and pick up the news from the bulletin, like ours out in the foyer," he elaborated. "Not to mention, a little berry juice never hurt to get a Pokémon's guard down and their mouths moving."
"That said, you should be mindful that not everyone's going to be quick to talk around a Pokémon in Company lavenders, and it'll bring you trouble in some places," Marley clarified. "In those cases, stick to your normal scarves, and turn tail if you suspect anyone's growing wise to you."
"Wait a minute, the kids are on Boisocéan. It's a neutral island outside of the Company's control, isn't it?" Kiran asked. "If we're headed out as a Company ship, wouldn't we attract suspicion just coming into port thanks to the sails we'd need to sell our disguise?"
"That's… something that you'll have to work around, unfortunately. There might be some times when it'll be better to use the normal white-and-blues instead of Company sails. But any spotters will notice the change and pass it along up the chain, and the only really safe excuse I have for all of you showing up on the books right now is that you're being tapped to crew a new ship," Osmund replied. "That said, you might be able to still get what you want even with suspicion if you're smart about it. And I'm sure they've figured out that Company Pokémon from Tromba are just a little more reasonable than average."
"Eh?! 'Swapping sails'?! Why are you telling us all of this?!" Crom cried. "If Pleo's not even on an island run by the Company, why do we have to go through all that trouble?!"
That was right. Pleo and the rest of the team was on Boisocéan, they were safe and well there. And Kiran had just said that it was a neutral place! So it's not as if they'd run into Company Pokémon there, would they? And why did Osmund and Marley look so hesitant all of a sudden?
"Well-"
Before Osmund could continue speaking, he was interrupted by the sound of Pladur, a Raichu, and a Servine boisterously entering the room from the back. The group was in high spirits, and all of them were decked out in lavender scarves, clearly they had already gone through their own debriefings.
"Hey! We're back!" the Raichu cheered.
"Debrief going well?" the Servine wondered.
"Well enough," Osmund grunted. "Ready to push off, I take it?"
"More or less! Those Company sails you set the Siglo Swellow up with worked great on the test run around the island last night!" Pladur reported, the eager, cheerful words from his mouth making Osmund and Marley blanch.
"You… left harbor with Company sails?" Marley asked, her ears shifting uncomfortably and her words coming hesitantly. The Fraxure failed to detect Marley's unease, and prattled on happily to the rest of the room.
"Uh huh! They're even better at catching the wind for that old hull than-!"
Only to grow wide-eyed and drop to the floor with his Raichu and Servine crewmates to dodge some spikes flying overhead.
"Tontos! What were you all thinking?!" Marley fumed. Before the Fraxure could began to explain himself, his eyes went wide as he felt himself being lifted by his scarf by a forepaw and being drug face to face with a seething Nidorina.
"A-AAH!"
"Of all the reckless, stupid things you could have-!"
The others in the room leapt up and pried the two away from each other. As Marley struggled lividly against Ander and Kiran, Pladur hastily retreated and fell behind his similarly-rattled companions. In an attempt to prevent the situation from escalating any further, Osmund cried out for calm.
"Marley! Easy! Seeing a Company ship isn't out of the ordinary for the sea spotters!" he exclaimed. "Besides, that information still has to work its way up the chain! Don't get yourself so worked up!"
The Nidorina folded her ears back and muttered nervously to herself as she paced back and forth over and over again.
"Right… It's just a ship… The Company surely spots their own ships around here regularly enough…"
"Marley, it'll work out. I'm sure of it," Osmund answered as he tried his hardest to try and soothe Marley's rattled nerves. "To answer the earlier question, the reason why we're telling this all to you… is because you might need it. We're here, and the Protector's in Boisocéan…"
"And Lyn's still out there!" Marley cried. "That Samurott could chase him and my niñita off!"
All of a sudden, her nervousness, her anger at Pladur and the others, all of it seemed to make sense. But was it all really that dire?
"But- But- Pleo and the others told us they were alright!" Crom interjected. "And we haven't heard of any trouble from the island since then! They couldn't have gotten into that much trouble… could they?"
It was a beautiful day back in the hills over Bluewhorl, the skies were blue, the neighbor Pidove was singing a song with her mother to greet the morning as usual, and the town down the hill was lazily returning back to life. Her parents and siblings crowded around to cheer her on from the welcoming mat, and the little blue Nidoran was happy.
Yes, this was the way things were. The nightmare away from home had been dispelled and she was back where she meant to be. She heard a cry from further down the path and saw her teammates, with Crom at the head of the group, waving at her and beckoning her "Hurry up!"
The Nidoran whirled about, dug her feet against the ground, and just as she was about to hop off…
"Aherm."
A harsh voice suddenly called out and the scene suddenly evaporated, leaving behind only darkness and a gnawing feeling in the Poison-Type's stomach. It was all a dream! The team was still stuck on Boisocéan, still waiting on word to come back for if it was safe to return to Bluewhorl.
"Hnn? Are we getting up already?" a sleepy and tired-sounding voice chirped, Pleo's she presumed.
Last night had been a fiasco. No one on the team had found any work to do to get food for the night, and by the time the team got to the mats that Maranda had talked about, the only ones left unclaimed were a handful on the very edge of the wooden platforms they were spread out over. On top of all of that, no one had dinner! No wonder why Pleo still sounded so tired and her stomach disagreed with her so, they'd both not eaten a bite since they left the Medic's Hut yesterday!
"Whuh?" Nida yawned, finally cracking her eyelids open and uncurling. "What's going on-?"
Only to come face to face with the Galvantula, Seismitoad, and Crustle from the day of the Gummi Fab tour… Except this time, the three sported piercing leers directed at the team, the Water-Type among them holding a hogtied Growlithe up by the scruff of his neck.
"Is this yours?" the toad growled, leaving Nida to flatten her ears and bite her tongue.
"Er…"
"Uh huh! That's Elty, he's our teammate!" Pleo cheered, bobbing his head in affirmation. The Lugia then paused and tilted his head curiously as he recognized that something was amiss with this scene. The mats were empty of the Pokémon who were there the night before, the sun was higher in the sky than he expected. But…
"Where are all the other Pokémon? And why do you have him all tied up?"
"We asked for the other Pokémon to give us some privacy," the Water-Type croaked back. "And the mutt had a few things to answer for."
The Seismitoad abruptly tossed the Fire-Type onto the mat, who came to a rolling stop between Pleo and Nida, head under heels.
"Ow!" Elty yelped. "Seriously, it's all an overreaction!"
As the Growlithe fought with his bonds to try and right his body, Nida sighed, shook her head, and pressed the little dog…
"Elty, what did you do?"
"Relax! It wasn't anything serious," the Growlithe answered, as the leers on the group of guards grew sharper and more pronounced. "Just a little forgery."
"WHAT?!" Nida cried, hopping back in a shock as Pleo tilted his head and wondered… Just what was…
"'Four'… 'jury'?"
"Your buddy tried to pass off a fake signature to get into the food line," the Galvantula hissed. "And to help himself to food that belongs to Pokémon that do actual work for the town's guild."
"Oi! We did the job, and we still didn't get to eat anything last night!" Elty huffed back in protest. "What difference does it make if another Pokémon fills in the signature?!"
"A world of difference," a voice from behind the guards chittered, its owner stepping forward and revealing to be none other than…
"Maranda?!"
"At the very least, you could have been a bit less transparent about this whole affair," the Leavanny muttered, shaking her head.
"You can say that again," the Crustle chimed in. "Attempting to forge a completed Mission listing is grounds for a long Community Service stint doing something like scraping gunk off the docks around town."
Elty flinched and folded his ears back at the idea of having to wade into the swampy water around town on a regular basis. He fudged a signature on a clutter mission! Wasn't getting water involved as a punishment just a little much?
"Not to mention, it's also an offense subject to Command Responsibility!" the Seismitoad growled, glaring at the little spike ball before him.
Nida's ears drooped and the Nidoran audibly gulped as soon as the words 'Command Responsibility' left the guard's mouth. She had heard it come up in stern lectures with teams at the guild who had recruited a feral who was slow to take up the town's rules. She was also certain that back home she had overheard Kiran wondering aloud several times if it would come back to haunt his decision to take Elty under his wing…
Now she was about to live through it for herself.
"Eh? Nida?" Pleo asked. "Why do you look so nervous?"
"Command Responsibility means that the leader of a team will get in trouble for something her subordinates do," the Crustle lectured. "Especially if it can be shown that she knew what they were up to and did nothing to stop it. One of the first rules of a Rescue Team, really."
"That said, this does seem to be a rather peculiarly trivial reward to run your names through the mud over," Maranda interrupted, as she looked down at Team Traveller. "You didn't happen to just run off and forget to get your listing signed first, did you?"
Nida traded looks with her teammates as she debated just how much they should tell Maranda about what happened with Daraen and Margi yesterday. After an uneasy silence, she finally turned back to Seahive's medic leader and shook her ruff.
"Something like that, yes," she muttered.
"Understatement much?" Elty whispered. The Leavanny turned to the waiting guards and summarily dismissed them.
"I'll take over from here," she said, waving a leafy hand. "I don't think this will take too much longer, and I should make the most of my rounds about town before my shift at the hut starts up again."
The Galvantula, Seismitoad, and Crustle traded wary looks with each other, but in spite of their hesitation, one after another, they deferred judgement to the leafy bug.
"Understood, Madame."
"I still think you're going too easy on them, but if you think this is a good idea…"
"Yeah, I was looking forward to sticking it to that tubby mutt!"
The three turned and headed down the path back towards town, leaving Elty to fume and bark after them.
"Oi! It's a seasonal coat!"
"I think that if you can go do your paperwork properly, I can talk the guild into leaving this little incident off the record," Maranda interrupted. "Just go back to Daraen, explain the mistake, and get the signature you need."
The team's expressions sank. They were going to have to try going back to Margi? Pleo in particular betrayed his unease as his head and wings drooped.
"Uhm…" he replied uneasily. "I mean, I guess we could try…"
"Was there a misunderstanding between you all?" the Leavanny questioned.
"More his mother, but yes," Elty answered. The team shrank back and bit their tongues as the Bug-Type paused and visibly pondered how to respond back.
"… Maybe it would be best to also try and work through that," Maranda suggested. "I can't promise you'll succeed, but it seems like something that would probably put you at ease, and Daraen and his mother too, for that matter."
"What are we supposed to say?" Nida squeaked, hopping up and down in a start. "She thinks Pleo's evil!"
"I don't really know anything I can tell her to change her mind," Pleo murmured.
"Just go as you are. You don't have anything to hide or have anything against either of them, do you?" the Leavanny asked. "So just show that when you talk with them."
"Okay," Nida answered, nodding her head back. "I think we can manage that. But… where would we find them?"
"Well, I overheard a few Pokémon while passing by the Gummi Fab Margi works at, that she abruptly called in sick from her custodial job a few days ago," the Leavanny mulled. "She obviously sounds more well than what she let on, but knowing the circumstances, I'd imagine she's been staying around her home at la bastille."
"What is it?" Pleo wondered.
"It's a neighborhood past the fringes of town, nestled in some trees past a clearing around a creek," the Mairesse explained. "Just head opposite the direction of the shrine from here, and you'll find its approach soon enough."
"Oh, one last thing," she commented. "Be sure to walk to la bastille. Even if you were able to find it from above, I'm not sure that surprising the Pokémon that live there would do you any favors for getting your signature."
"Right," Nida said. "Thanks for the tip."
The Leavanny turned and left the mats, and the Nidoran finally stretched out, and watched Pleo beat his wings a couple times to get his blood flowing. After the two seemed energetic enough, they turned for the path, and chanced to see a Fearow pass by overhead in a hurry, probably someone else who overslept like them. It wouldn't hurt to pick up their own paces a bit either, but even so… Nida and Pleo couldn't help but feel that something was amiss…
"Hey!" Elty barked. "Are you two going to untie me or what?"
Oh. Right. Still, in spite of all of the trouble the Growlithe had caused earlier… it couldn't hurt to have an extra set of paws to help, could it?
After following Maranda's lead, Team Traveller came to a portion of Seahive's sprawl of wooden pathways that came to an abrupt halt next to a broad, marshy field of leafy green plants that tracked a small creek. The plants were apparently of a kind called "nettles," with thin spikes full of irritants that had a tendency to lodge themselves into Pokémon that brushed up against them. "Just like you, spike ball," the Growlithe on the team noted, much to the Nidoran's annoyance.
The sole route across the field was a rickety-looking rope bridge that lead to another platform at the edge of a much denser patch of trees at the other end. As the group made their way over to the other side, they saw that along the bottom, the lower branches had been stripped, and the nettles grew up in between their trunks.
When the three reached the other end, they saw another rope bridge heading deeper into the cluster of trees. Pleo alighted on a peg holding one of the bridges in place, only to flutter off in a panic after he felt it wobble under his weight. The bridges here seemed much less sturdily built than the passages back in town… Why, a particularly mean-spirited Pokémon could just tear up the bridge by pulling out the pegs on this end!
But then again… considering what had happened yesterday with Margi and Daraen, maybe that was the point. Perhaps they had been made that way specifically in case of the arrival of a "demon", which made Pleo pause and grow uneasy about pressing forward, prompting him to turn to his shorter blue-furred partner.
"Nida… is this really a good idea?" he asked. "What about when we went to Ander?"
"Of course it is!" Elty barked, leering determinedly back at the little Protector. "If you want to stay and eat at the guild today, we need that signature!"
Nida lowered her ears and rolled her eyes at the Growlithe's words. While his motivations for going here were transparent as always, it was hard to argue with them… And after all…
"Pleo, I know that the last time didn't turn out so good," she sighed. "But Maranda suggested this, that means there has to be a way for it to work out… I hope."
The Nidoran looked ahead down the path warily, and thought about turning back for a moment, when some words came back to her from a few nights prior. She had promised Pleo that they wouldn't give up, no matter how bad things looked. Well, here was food and shelter being held from them thanks to an obstacle… Were they going to give up here?
No, they wouldn't. The Nidoran shook her head and hopped down the rope bridge, beckoning her teammates to follow after her. Elty trotted along hot on her heels, and Pleo followed after him. Before too long, the rope bridge had taken the group past trunk after trunk of the same, tightly-spaced trees, with little to show for Pokémon life around them.
All of a sudden, the quiet was broken by Pleo looking back and pausing.
"Eh? Didn't Maranda say that you could see the shrine from the entire town?" he called to his teammates. "I can't see it anymore!"
"What are you talking about?" Nida asked. "It was visible right-"
The Nidoran turned back, and saw nothing but the forms of her teammates, and the tops of the trees. She blinked a moment, and then hopped up Pleo's back for a better view…
"Behind us…"
Only to see that the shrine that stood over Seahive really wasn't visible, it was blocked by all of the trees around them! Nida hopped off her companion, and shook her head before pressing on with the team in tow. It was a little disorienting, sure, but they were on a bridge. One end lead back to the way they came from and the other-
"A-Aah!"
Towards their destination, a collection of thatch and shingle-roofed shacks and huts, along with platforms with mats spread out that were firmly nestled under a canopy that only let little rays of light in from above. With a panicky Croconaw and Forretress at the end starting to pale at the sight of the group on the path before them.
"It's here! The demon's here!" the Water-Type cried.
"Don't just stand there!" his wide-eyed companion chastised. "Hurry up and pull up the bridge!"
Nida and Elty froze as they saw the crocodile reach for one of the pegs holding in the rope bridge at the destination platform, only for a squawk to ring out…
"A-Ack! Don't do that! You'll make my friends fall!"
And all eyes to see that Pleo had taken flight for the platform, much to the horror of the two guards.
"It can f-fly already?!" the Croconaw whimpered. The Water-Type and his companion froze in visible fear as the still squawking and shouting bird flew nearer, and nearer… Finally, the Forretress' nerves gave way, and he turned and fled hopping along with his counterpart shouting.
"E-Everybody run!"
Nida and Elty quickly dashed after the young Lugia as he alighted on the platform, lest someone more collected come by and pull up the bridge while they were still on it. From the platform, they could see the neighborhood ahead explode into a frenzy, as Pokémon rushed here and there in a panic for shelter, or to be anywhere where the white bird wasn't.
"Whelp, so much for us getting food and shelter today," Elty grumbled. Pleo's head and wings drooped, they had just got here and his efforts to keep his friends from getting hurt had just made all of these Pokémon upset with him again! Frightened cries of "I-It's the demon from the Abyss!" and "He's here to destroy us all!" sailed through the air, leaving a little Deino stumbling around confused and disoriented by the tumult around him…
Hold on a minute! That Deino was-
"Daraen!" Pleo squawked, and drew a stunned yelp from the little dragon.
"H-Huh?!"
Only for the creature to turn and try to run, which lead him to stumble over a sagging plank in the platform below his feet and pratfall. As the creature picked himself up, Pleo flew after him, crying out and begging with him all the while to stay.
"Please don't go! We need you to-!"
A loud roar and a blue and black blur suddenly swooped down between Pleo and the Deino. The little bird hopping back with a squawk as he came face to face with one of Margi's snarling heads.
"Stay away from him!"
Only for her growling to suddenly be upstaged by another roar from behind Pleo.
"Na litość boską! GIVE US OUR REWARD!"
Everyone flinched and turned around slowly to see a glowering Growlithe with his paws stubbornly dug in into the rough wooden planks underfoot, prompting Nida to clutch her ears and mutter an exasperated "En serio?"…
That roar was… Elty's?
"You're not stiffing us again!" he growled. "We went to bed hungry last night and slept on mats under the stars thanks to you!"
The Hydreigon blinked and craned a head down at the Fire-Type, was this really all about…?
"Did you seriously come all this way for a few berries?" she grunted unimpressed.
Elty's determined leer wavered as he saw Margi's snout meeting his, the much bigger Hydreigon's much bigger teeth coming into clear view, her growling breaths reaching his nose and his ears. Nonetheless, he still attempted to muster the bravest face he could find. After all, food and shelter were at stake here.
"Th-That's right! We did!" he insisted. "I-Isn't that right, Nida?"
Nida shot a glare at Elty for getting her involved and hopped forward as Elty inched back away from the Dragon-Type's head; she then began to explain their predicament to the mother Hydreigon.
"We really didn't come to cause any trouble!" she assured "We just need a signature to show the guild that we did Daraen's request yesterday!"
"Um, but didn't Margi come while we were still-?" Pleo murmured, only to be met with a simultaneous pair of hisses from his teammates.
"Not now, Pleo!"
"Th-Then why did you lie to me?!" Darean cried from behind the Hydreigon's legs. "Why did you tell me you were a Goélise when you were really a monster?!"
"Er, technically you thought that Pleo was a… whatever a Goélise is," Nida replied. "We just never corrected you."
"And I'm not a monster, I'm a Protector!" Pleo protested. "Why you keep saying I'm supposed to do awful things?!"
"It's because of what you are," Margi growled back. Pleo froze, and unconsciously shifted back a couple paces from the big and belligerent-sounding dragon. "It's a part of your nature, as it was for the old Fiends in the old world!"
"The old world?" Nida asked. "What would be wrong with it? It was supposed to be a better place than ours all the way up until the old gods died!"
"It was that way because the humans and Pokémon of that world constantly clawed their way to having that better past!" the Hydreigon thundered before she trained a leering gaze on Pleo. "An era when humans and Pokémon lived together, combining their cleverness and strength to form a better age that existed long before things like that came along from the Abyss."
Pleo began to shrink back uneasily from Margi's glare, but still, there was something that he needed to know. What was this…
"Abyss?"
"Pleo!" Elty complained. "Don't let her change the subject! We were going to get that signa-"
The Hydreigon growled at the little Fire-Type, who quickly bit his tongue and as Daraen continued on after his mother.
"It's a space between worlds where dreams sometimes come to life and enter worlds like ours," the Deino explained. "That's why in the ancient times, both Pokémon and human knew better than to get too close to any entrances to it, and to avoid anything that came from it."
"Wait a minute… This 'Abyss'… it's a world of dreams?" Nida wondered. "But I've never heard anything bad about such worlds before! Why would you want to shut it out?"
"Because along with good dreams, nightmares would come to life from it! Without regard to how ready our world was! Why, this whole mess is due to such nightmares coming to life during an age of weakness like the one we live in!" she glowered. The dragon moved forward, Team Traveller uneasily backpedaling as the dragon's voice and demeanor began to shift to one of bitter consternment. "An age where hardship and despair lurked around many a corner and life struggled just to get by. It bred yearnings for stability and a defender. And in response, the Abyss created the archdemon that you call 'Arceus'."
Nida's jaw slackened and dropped at Margi's venomous gall. Arceus, the god whom the Cradle owed its very existence to, an archdemon? Why-? How would she even-?
"Are we seriously putting off getting that signature for this?" Elty grumbled. The Growlithe looked back and saw that they had backpedaled a ways back to the bridge already, and from the look on the Hydreigon's faces, she seemed to be keenly aware of it.
"B-But that's not right at all!" Nida cried. "Arceus created the world!"
Every so often, one of their number would dig in with some attempt to hold their ground, only to cede further ground after another growling push forward by the large, intimidating Pokémon
"You're wrong! That's a history that's been fed to you!" Margi growled. She shot a glance over at the rope bridge, which in between chunks of story and continued backpedaling, drew closer and closer to Team Traveller. "By the archdemon himself after he conquered our world and fashioned servants like that bird from the nightmares of the creatures that live here! After that, they spread lies such as that one to exalt themselves and keep simple-minded and easily cowed creatures from questioning them!"
Pleo curled in his head uncomfortably at the Hydreigon's cutting words, and Elty and Nida traded incredulous glances with each other. The Nidoran was sure that Margi couldn't be correct, and what she was saying seemed to be so obviously detached from reality.
But no matter how she tried, she found herself drawing blanks again and again for forming a counterargument, and Margi's tirade went on uncontested.
"It's a falsehood that blotted out the truth for many eons, consigning it to be forgotten entirely, until the humans chanced to discover great magic," the dragon continued. "A magic which enabled them to fashion great cities made of metal and glass, boxes that shared sounds and pictures across space and time, and allowed for an age of unparalleled prosperity."
"Hey, this is a wonderful story, but can we get our-" Elty began, only for his teammates to both swiftly meet him with a stern…
"Shush!"
"I-It was that same magic that would've let the world know the truth again, and the demons knew it!" Daraen added. "They became afraid of being exposed, and time and time again attempted to destroy everything that the humans and their allies had built!"
"Daraen, that's crazy!" Nida spluttered. "The gods are Protectors! Why would they want to destroy anything?"
"Oh really now?" Margi asked. "Is that why they sent storms to wipe their towns away? Why they stirred up land and sea against them to try and burn and drown their nations? Why they lent their power to fiendish devices to try and annihilate entire swaths of the world in a fell swoop? Why they even attempted to unmake our world from the archfiend's throne? That's what you call a 'Protector'?"
Nida winced and lowered her ears, "Uhm… well, no, that's not- but-"
"Nida," Daraen explained. "That's what really happened. The Pokémon you call the old gods really did all of that… I mean, even you have to admit they'd have the power to do it, right?"
It wasn't like they didn't have the power to do that… While they weren't favored by anyone for obvious reasons, Nida herself had heard of legends of calamities brought about by spurned Protectors in the old world. But, those calamities couldn't have happened maliciously as Margi was alleging, could they?
"When they made all those attempts, they led the generations of the past to discover the truth and brought the humans to war with the parasites from the Abyss. With the great magic that had been discovered, they fended off the demons and their deluded cronies, before finally attempting to put an end to this madness with mighty blows from the heavens," Margi muttered. "It was our world's moment of victory, our emancipation from these tyrants! But before the archdemon could finally be cut down, his servants in their dying rage brought destruction on our world."
Pleo turned nervously to his teammates and saw that while Elty and Nida both were visibly uncomfortable, they seemed entranced with the story, to the point where it seemed they scarcely seemed to notice that Margi had all but herded them back to the platform at the entrance of la bastille! Were… were they also worried that somehow, this awful story might be true?
"What happened next?" Nida asked reluctantly.
"That left Arceus free to reshape what was left of the world, forming what you now call the Cradle. He put an end to the presence of humans in our world, which is why their magic has been forgotten with time and why the feeble resistance our ancestors could muster afterwards came to naught," Margi explained. "There, he spread his spawn like that thing, ensuring that one day the world would be theirs to subjugate once again-"
When suddenly, a stammering squawk cut off the Hydreigon's words mid-sentence.
"But- But- I don't want to be mean like that!"
Everyone blinked and all eyes turned to Pleo. Daraen and Margi were at a loss of words… Here they were with a 'demon'… who didn't want to be one? A thought crept into the Deino's mind, as he realized a simple enough explanation for Pleo's outburst.
"But don't demons like destroying things?" he murmured. "It's what they do, so it wouldn't be mean to you!"
"But I don't want to destroy anything! I like this world!" the little Protector cried out, hoping to communicate his earnestness by beating his wings. "I like Seahive and Bluewhorl! I like being able to play with other Pokémon like we did yesterday! Even if there's bad Pokémon in it, there's nice ones, too! Like Hatteras! And Kiran! And Crom! And-! And-!"
The little bird shook his head and, with the loudest voice he could muster, blurted out his feelings.
"I want to be their Protector!"
The two Dragon-Types stared blankly as voices began to murmur. One by one, their neighbors uneasily returned from their hiding places among the huts and the branches of the surrounding trees, carefully maintaining their distance. Whispers of confusion and incredulity floated around as Margi paused, and craned a neck down to her son.
"Yesterday, out in that clearing," she began. "Did- Did he try to hurt you, mon petit?"
Daraen paused, and as his mind floated back to the day before, and the fun he had had… the Deino had to admit:
"He didn't, no…"
"Doesn't really sound like a 'monster', if you ask me," Nida said.
"So… can we finally get our reward now?" Elty asked hesitantly.
"Er… I mean, you technically still owe me one more match, but," Daraen murmured to himself. "I mean it went well enough… And if maman is okay with it…"
Some uneasy whispers went about the watching neighbors as all eyes waited to see what the Hydreigon would do, until finally, she spoke up.
"Fine," Margi grumbled, training a focused gaze on the little white bird before her. "But if your intentions are as pure as you claim, you will leave this island as soon as you hear of somewhere else you can shelter."
"H-Huh?!" Pleo squawked.
"Look, Pleo, there's obviously some things about you that don't match with what we've been taught," Daraen explained. "But those teachings obviously must have some truth to them, otherwise maman would have never known about what you are!"
More murmurs of "That's right!" and "We can't get too close to the thing, no matter how nice it seems!" went about the crowd. Pleo's head and wings drooped, before he had his attention drawn back to the Deino as he began to speak again.
"In that case, we have to stay careful," he said. "You understand, don't you?"
"I… I guess," Pleo replied. "But I really don't-"
"It's good enough, Pleo," Nida sighed. "We'll be headed home soon enough anyways."
"And besides, we need to get some food in our stomachs! We haven't eaten since last night!" Elty cried, as he dug a paper from the satchel on Nida's back and slid a dog-eared sheet of paper in front of Daraen.
"So… about that signature?"
A few moments and a dusting of Daraen's foot in some charcoal powder later, the mission listing was finally signed with Daraen's footprint. Team Traveller gave their thanks to Daraen and Margi, and turned to trek down the rope bridge for the thick woods outside the Marked neighborhood, now with two Oran Berries, a Rawst, a Pecha, and a Chesto in the team bag. The guarding Croconaw and Forretress warily returned to their posts, and the other Pokémon slowly returned to their day's routine.
Daraen and his mother remained at the platform's edge, wondering just what to make of the exchange they had just gone through.
"Maman…? If a demon doesn't want to be a demon," the Deino murmured. "Will it really still be one?"
"I don't know, mon petit," the Hydreigon sighed, as she watched Team Traveller slip into the trees at the end of the bridge. "But… part of me hopes it won't."
Unbeknownst to Team Traveller as they made their way back to the guild hall in high spirits, the skies and seas around Boisocéan had fallen into a precarious tension. Pokémon flew and swam along the loose cordon that Lyn had enacted- far enough from the island to elude suspicion from watchers on shore, but sufficiently close for Lyn's spotters to make out the Pokémon that came and went. And most importantly, still near enough to ferry word to prowling pods of lackeys lying in wait to pounce.
At the hub of the operation was Lyn's still-stricken vessel, the Samurott taking some time out from inspecting the half-done patchwork on his sails to press a group consisting of a Ninjask, a swimming Furret, and a Fearow of their findings.
"I want a status report, now."
"Well, he wasn't by the gummi fa-," a Ninjask began, only to clamp his mandibles shut, grimace, and hastily amend his words. "Er… we didn't see him in town today!"
"So then one of your squads on the cordon caught him, then?" Lyn demanded. The otter hardened his gaze at the three Pokémon, who gulped and paused noticeably before continuing.
"I didn't see anything on the far side of the island when the dive team there took me down," the Furret bobbing in the water said. "And there were no signs of the Lugia at the end of the Subway path offshore-"
The Surfing ferret was interrupted by the sound of a sudden commotion and splashing further away from the ship.
"Ack! Bird! Bird!"
The group turned to see a Goldeen thrashing while a group of irked-sounding blue and teal seabirds were pursuing and pecking her. Lyn's Weavile first mate chanced to pass by after an inspection of some recently untangled rigging, and sent a frigid, cutting gust of wind just overhead of the birds. The Icy Wind quickly sent them flying away in a panic, much to the Dark-Type's smirking amusement as the red-and-white fish sidled up against Lyn's ship.
"Well, we found some white and blue birds," the Water-Type sighed, shaking some sensation back into her pecked fins and flank. "But they were just feral Wingull. Nasty little buggers, too!"
Lyn's face fell, and the Samurott growled and seethed. Picking a crew on short notice and drastically changing their orders would lead to some degree of sloppier work, but this was ridiculous! What sort of cordon was ringing this island?
"Do you mean to tell me that an overgrown seabird and two landlubbing runts slipped past us again?"
"I-Impossible! I caught a glimpse of the target just half an hour ago on the fringes!" a Fearow nervously stammered. "The group looked about as prepared to leave as an Ingrained Oddish! I would've swooped in, but there were some tough customers around them and I lost them as they went through Seahive..."
"They could just be doing work in the Mystery Dungeon, Captain," the first mate added in between disinterested picks at his claws. "After all, even amateurs need to put food in their stomachs."
The Dark-Type's words made Lyn pause, and his posture slackened from resignation.
"That's… true," he admitted, even if it was not the least bit reassuring. He could tighten the cordon and whip the current shifts into better shape, yes. But even sharp and focused spotters would get worn down if pressed for too long… Bah, this ought to be simply going ashore and claiming his prize! Why couldn't the Guardian have tumbled down onto an island that wouldn't have geopolitics to complicate the matter?
"On the other fin, we'll have some more help with this cordon soon!" the Goldeen piped up in a cheery tone. "One of our ships was looking for your coordinates earlier!"
"One of our-?" Lyn asked. The Samurott scarcely got in a couple puzzled blinks before he heard a buzzing voice call off from behind.
"Lyn!"
After turning towards it, he saw a Mothim flitting from a two-masted ship with the patterns of a Second-Rank captain on its sails further out at sea… heading directly for his deck.
"Of course," the Water-Type sighed, as Ellsberg flitted over the deck and came to a fluttering rest on the railing beside the Third-Rank. The moth's expression betrayed an uneasy and exasperated impatience. It was no secret to Lyn what the culprit was…
"I thought you said that the Guardian of the Seas was facing imminent recapture!"
"For crying out loud, it's the second day," Lyn growled. "How much more imminent do I need to get with a potential diplomatic powderkeg like Boisocéan?"
"You didn't include that in your message!" the Mothim cried back, hopping up and down on the railing with idle flutters. "Is it my fault that the Board wound up coming to their own assumptions with such an evasive account?"
Ellsberg shook his head, drew in a deep breath, and calmed himself. Impatient Administrators or not, Lyn did have a point. Even if they wouldn't be pleased, they would surely understand the delicacies of the situation, wouldn't they? And it wasn't as if he only had bad news to deliver to the Commissioner…
"On the positive side, I think the Board must have anticipated that this mission would potentially run into trouble. They seem to have been able to put together a second crew quietly enough to help you after all," Ellsberg buzzed. "Why, I heard from a spotter that one of our own ships pulled out of Tromba last night. It could be a coincidence, but-"
Ellsberg flinched as he saw Lyn tense up and sink into a crouched pose that the moth normally saw whenever the Water-Type was about to pounce at an opponent while training. The Samurott twitched his whiskers, shook his head, and grumbled back in a low tone.
"That's not a coincidence. That's a sign we're running out of time."
"E-Eh?" the moth asked. "How do you figure-?"
"Think, Ellsberg!" Lyn roared at the Bug-Type, startling him off his perch on the railing and into the air. "Who is on Tromba and what's happened there lately?"
Tromba? But the only Pokémon there were the locals, Osmund, and Hatterby… Wait a minute, surely Lyn didn't mean that he expected them to somehow be involved.
"You can't honestly be suggesting that those rubes would try and-"
"That's exactly what I'm suggesting, Ellsberg!" the Samurott cried. "From all the runs I've made to that accursed sea rock, I know it's exactly the sort of stunt that Hatteras would try and pull!"
Lyn looked out at the sea. He had already stretched his numbers thin with the cordon, and leaving his ship to be a sitting Ducklett without defenses during any move on Seahive would be asking for trouble. The cordon could be condensed around a narrower portion of the island if he had an idea where Pleo would try and fly off from, but too many unpatrolled patches raised the risk of the Protector slipping away under his nose.
The Samurott then cast a glance over at Ellsberg's craft in the distance and, after pausing in thought, spoke back to the waiting notary.
"We're going in."
"Eh?! But your sails are still half-torn!" the Mothim spluttered. "You'll wear out your escorts just by having them help you limp into port!"
"I said we're going in, Ellsberg," Lyn corrected. "You have a ship and I can lend a few paws already out and about to it."
The Mothim stared back blankly at the Water-Type. It explained the look at the craft, but Lyn couldn't be suggesting that he use it like he would his own, right?
"You can't seriously hope to intimidate a town into submission with my ship!" the moth protested. "It's got half as many cannons and crew members as yours!"
Indeed, Ellsberg's craft was very much like the Mothim himself. None too imposing or spectacular on its own, but rather reliant on the unstated threat of bigger problems coming in its wake to arm-twist locals into compliance. How would he be able to apply that to an island that wasn't even under Company jurisdiction?
"We won't need to, Ellsberg."
"But what are we supposed to do otherwise, Lyn?" the Mothim pressed. "You can't quietly snatch Lugia away without good intel on his location! What are we supposed to do if not use brute force?"
"Tell me, Ellsberg, what do you do in our ranks?" the Samurott barked.
"Deliver and notarize messages of importance to our realms, of course!"
"Such as say, extradition notices?"
Ellsberg paused. That… actually made quite a bit of sense. He supposed he had underestimated Lyn as merely a more accomplished brute. An extradition notice provided a decent cover, it was something that he as a notary could do, but there still was something that didn't add up…
"It could work… But just what can you say to get an island that has stubbornly refused to pick a side all these years to cooperate?"
"It's simple really," Lyn explained, as he nonchalantly fished out a seamitar from along his right arm and began to idly toy with it about his knuckles. "If Seahive were to harbor cutthroat pirates that raided and attempted to burn a Company vessel on the high seas, that's not just a reckless disregard for local safety…"
Thunk!
The sound of Lyn's blade striking wood reverberated along the deck. As Ellsberg looked down, he saw that Lyn had thrown the blade into the timbers underfoot, leaving it stuck blade-first in the wood.
"That's a stunt that no one this side of the Cradle would tolerate. After all, neither us nor the Imps have any interest in seeing a second island become a pirate haven, neutral territory or not! Their leader's only real choices there then become stalling for time- which allows for an extraction team to either grab or flush out the Protector- or handing him over to us directly," the otter said, smirking. "And if they attempt to mount forceful resistance in defense of these 'pirates', why that's grounds for military intervention in the imminent future!"
"One that you're there to harbinger, I take it?" the Mothim asked as Lyn pried the seamitar out of the wood.
"Would you expect me to have it any other way?" he chuckled. "Inform your deck hands of the new plans. We're setting sail immediately."
Author's Notes:
- Dosyć - Polish: "Enough" (Interjection)
- un 'Cintillo Trombense' - Spanish: "a 'Tromban Headband'"
- Hola, buenos días - Spanish: "Hello, good morning"
- Madame - French: "Madam"
- la bastille - French: "the fortress, "the citadel, "the bastion"
- Na litość boską! - Polish: Interjection roughly analogous to "For crying out loud!" or "For goodness/God's sake!", lit. "For divine mercy!"
- mon petit - French: "my little (one)" (Term of endearment)
