If it was at all within Dorinel's power to put this meeting off, he would've. After all that had just happened, he spent the past five days drowning his sorrows alone in the Guild's basement, and now he was more hung over than he ever thought possible. But unfortunately for him, the Solstice was coming up, and there were only a few more days until Renegade's Edge security got too tight for him to take an Air Taxi. Whether he liked it or not, this had to happen now.
Ordinarily, he'd get Quincy to give him a lift, seeing as how that was the only thing he was good for, but he had been absent for the past few days, so he arranged for a private Corviknight flight instead. In retrospect, it might've been a blessing in disguise that Quincy was unavailable, as that bird's nonstop ramblings could've actually split Dorinel's head open with the state he was in.
The voyage apparently took a full day, but it passed in no time. Dorinel didn't sleep– he rarely did anymore– but he did his best to appear professional anyway. He couldn't remember the last time he made a visit to the Head Guildmaster unannounced, and he really didn't want to irritate him more than he was already going to.
Dorinel knew Renegade's Edge to be at once beautiful and miserable in a way unique only to itself, and had no interest in taking in any more of its nauseating glory than absolutely necessary. As such, he mostly crept through the dim indoor halls to reach the peak of Renegade's Edge, despite it being far slower than the outside path.
Eventually, he arrived at the top platform, a location that served two purposes: it was the place where executions were conducted, and the place where Head Guildmaster Atlas recharged.
Head Guildmaster Atlas was powered off at the moment, as he was for the majority of the year, to preserve his charge for the Solstice. At first glance, one might assume he was a Gardevoir, and another might call him a Gallade, but any amount of further inspection would banish either notion. He was built entirely out of perfectly sleek metal, his scythes were glowing an unnatural pink, and altogether, he was unlike any living creature Dorinel had ever laid his eyes on. The inner workings of Atlas's mechanical anatomy was a complete mystery to everyone, and even the man himself was no exception.
With a heavy sigh, Dorinel tapped his claw against Atlas's chest, and his magenta eyes lit up.
"Ah, Guildmaster Dorinel," Atlas stated. "What business do you have here, so many days before the Solstice? I don't mean to disrespect you, but I would like to conserve as much power as possible." He motioned towards the network of cables protruding from the back of his neck.
"Y-Yes, of course," Dorinel stammered, fishing through his bag to find the document he needed. "I- Well, I'm sure you've been made aware of everything that happened to my son."
Atlas nodded. "Fabian Vanadis, Dialga's newest Successor. It truly is a shame, that he would be forced to subvert fate in such an unfortunate accident, and I offer you my deepest condolences in advance for what we must do to him."
Dorinel produced a document, a formal appeal to waive any and all of Fabian's potential wrongdoings. Generally, Dorinel would have the authority to sign these himself, but only the Head Guildmaster had the power to dismiss crimes as serious as Succession. "I understand how devastating Successors can be, and I know that better than most, but please, Fabian is my son. I know he wouldn't dream of hurting this world. If you could just allow him to live, even if it was only for an ordinary Pokémon's lifespan, I promise you that he wouldn't cause you any issues."
Atlas held the paper in between his scythes for a moment, his unchanging expression inscrutable. "It's far too late for that, unfortunately. By merely existing as Dialga's Successor, he has already rejected the destiny I had planned for him. As he now exists outside the bounds of fate, it is utterly impossible for him to continue having a role in this world."
"But, you're the one in charge of his fate!" Dorinel protested. "Surely, you could find a way to fix it, or at least allow him to keep living!"
"Hm. 'Fix' his fate?" Atlas stared at the document in silence for a moment. "I will consider your request, if you can complete a task for me."
"I'll do it," Dorinel said, not even needing to know what the task was.
Atlas tore the document up and sprinkled the shreds onto the ground. "Un-tear this sheet of paper," he plainly said.
"I-I…" Dorinel stammered, his hands shaking in disbelief. "D-Do you want me to- to tape it up or-"
"No, I'd like you to un-tear it. Simply make it as if this sheet of paper had never been ripped to shreds. It should be an easy task. You are a Guildmaster, are you not?"
"That's not possible-"
"Correct," Atlas said. "Just as you cannot 'fix' this pitiable document, I cannot 'fix' your pitiable son. Out of all Successors, none are as capable of undermining fate as Dialga's. In just seven days, your son has mangled his own destiny beyond salvation, and he wreaks havoc upon the destinies of any who cross his path as well. It is crucial that he is apprehended and banished by the end of next week. Thank you for understanding."
Before Dorinel could continue making his plea, Atlas's eyes dimmed and his head lowered. He cursed as loudly as he could, but nobody was around to listen.
"I'm sorry, Fabian," Dorinel muttered. With the last avenue of an easy way out firmly dashed, he had no choice left but to accept what it was that he had to do.
Nurture and protect order, at all costs.
AN 9/7/24:This officially marks the end of Part 1, and the start of my break! Trailblazers Part 2 will begin releasing on September 27th.