"Owner! I bring news!"
A Tailow flew into a building as night turned to dawn, the room it found itself now in an alien mesh of anachronistic technology and seamless architecture. Even though it did seem rather homely, that did not change how the furniture was made of very simple geometries and a hard material in contrast to the roughly-cut wood and heavy metal that was found everywhere else, with even the most high-end of establishments having nothing like it. Of course, that was far from the most unusual thing there.
"I'm busy. What makes your news so important?"
The owner of the voice was a being in what could best described as a full suit of armor, much like what a guard would wear. Even ignoring the lack of sound made by the suit, their movements melded uncanny smoothness and jittery, lifeless motion that not even a living puppet could hope to achieve.
"Well, if you have received any reports of a local nobleman Braixen disappearing when we attempted to capture him, I would like to report that he is now with the Seeker given what she said while leaving a fortune teller's tent. I presume that she still has a use for him, given what you told me of her and those who deal with her."
"The Seeker… She must have delivered a package there. You did well, my pet… I figure I'll have use for you later, but for now, you deserve rest."
The stranger proceeded to pick up a sphere and aim it at the Tailow, which obidently stood there as a beam of colored light struck and apparently vaporized it. After doing so, he walked through his fortress that was isolated from the prying eyes of commoners, soon arriving in a room where a few pokemon were tending to a small farm of sorts. The amount of food there was only sufficient to feed those who inhabited their home, raising questions on just how they obtained income to keep things in operation. Upon their unusual leader arriving, they all stopped their activities and bowed before him.
"We have located where the Seeker is now, and a nobleman Braixen is with her. For all intents and purposes, we believe that he is willingly co-operating with her, and that she still has a use for him, likely for social situations. For all intents and purposes, we shall now reclassify both of them as 'Seekers' due to how we do not know their names. If we must refer to only the Zoroark, we shall call her 'Acrobat.' Likewise, if we are to refer to the Braixen by himself, we shall call him 'Speaker.'"
Upon announcing this, the stranger pointed at two pokemon, both of which clad in bizarre armor seemingly not of this world.
"Hunter, investigate Riverrend's fortune teller tents to find which one talked to the Seekers. It is very likely that the Acrobat has delivered a Jirachi deck to one and had her fortune told, which could compromise our security depending on its contents, and dissuade locals from investigating us further by going unarmored. Slayer, you are to either capture or eliminate the Seekers by any means necessary, and eliminate all witnesses upon doing so. As long as it does not reveal our presence as anything more than a rumor, both of you may use any methods or weaponry you see fit."
Upon the orders being given, the Ninjask known as "Hunter" got up and disappeared as it flew towards its destination, and the Gardevoir known as "Slayer" drew a tool that, while looking like a rapier, was evidently not given its smooth, cylindrical shape and the flat, disc-shaped surface that replaced the tip of the so-called blade.
"I trust both of you will see your missions to completion. And remember, that Ricardo sends their regards."
AVAVAVAVA
The Braixen stood on a tall platform, a crowd jeering at him from below in gibberish, potentially a language he did not properly understand. One figure proceeded to quiet the crowd, before saying something, likely a speech. After concluding it, they ignited the bottom of the platform, harsh smoke rising up and making his eyes tear up. The last thing he saw before his vision succumbed to the noxious, burning air and the raging inferno climbing the beacon he stood upon was a Zoroark with khaki cuffs. Her smirk was positively demonic in appearance as she threw the still-burning torch at him, and he felt certain she had lit the bonfire he stood upon.
The Braixen gasped desperately for air when he woke up, still quivering from what he saw. He soon realized it was nothing more than a mere nightmare, but nonetheless the fear it generated was paralytic. Eventually calming himself down, the Braixen realized that he was in a two-bedroom room somewhere with the Zoroark, likely an inn she carried him to in hindsight.
"Khaki-cuffs?"
His words were met with the answer of a mumbling snooze, which directed him to focus more on his ally as he got up and approached her mumbling form.
"Mrrgh… Night Daze…? What…? Zzz…"
"HEY!"
The Zoroark yelped in surprise and struck at him on reflex, her sharp claws being surprisingly ineffective and only lightly ripping the shirt's fabric. Equally surprised by what he saw as an unwarranted retaliatory action, he proceeded to spew forth relatively ineffective flames in an Ember attack. His ally readied herself to stab him with a corsola spike after taking the weak counterattack, but stopped her arm when she realized what had happened.
"The hell you think you're doing‽" said the Zoroark. "You should know better than to wake up a fellow adventurer!"
"How would I know you would attack me if I decided to get you up in the morning‽ You never even warned me you'd do anything like that!"
"...Bah, this is nothing to get worked up over."
The Zoroark took a few deep breaths to mentally steady herself, the Braixen still remaining agitated over what amounted to nothing. After doing so, she pulled out a piece of paper that depicted a bracelet that bore imagery depicting a meadow in its glistening gem.
"Moving on, I feel as if you need to be tested. Essentially, what we are after is the Meadow-Walker's Bracer, which supposedly resides in a nearby tomb. All we need to do is get it if it's there, and you'll have passed."
"Wait, are you telling me that we're going to be grave robbers‽ Are you out of your fucking mind? I didn't sign up for this!"
"On the contrary, you've come along for the ride the moment you decided to group up with me. Even then, are you going to doubt what a tool that Jirachi made to forecast our future told us? Sure, the world won't end tomorrow. Or the next day, or the day after that. But between the distant yet looming end and whoever wanted you dead or… somewhere else... Well, I don't see how you would be able to sleep at night knowing that Espeon told us that fortune, and that you walked off on one of the few people that you could have helped to avert this."
"So? For all I know, it could end hundreds of years from now! We could even have hundreds, if not thousands of allies, and all we'd be doing is acting as recruiters!"
The Zoroark gave the Braixen a grave look, before sighing in annoyance. Abruptly, however, her eyes lit up.
"Have you ever heard of Guzzlord?"
"A what?"
"Imagine a Hydreigon mixed with a Swalot. Now…"
She proceeded to draw a stick and handed it to the Braixen, who absentmindedly began chewing on it. The Zoroark proceeded to deliver a smirk, aware the Braixen had fallen into a trap that could get him onto her side with some slight encouragement.
"Now, imagine that stick is a tree. If you do that, you'll understand what a Guzzlord eats for a bite-sized snack."
"...Are you pulling my leg?"
"Why should I? You and I both know that Jirachi decks exist, so species with mythical presences do exist. I believe your kind is just some spinoff of mine or the other way around, so what's stopping there from being a bigger, badder Hydreigon that will eat an entire city for its daily meal? Or a Beedrill that spews a poison that seeps through your skin and… acts like… uh… mortar? Yeah, a poison so sticky it's more effective than mortar, so you're condemned to a slow and horrible death."
The Braixen stepped back in horror as he tried to process what he was being told. Sure, destructive forces existed, but something that could easily devour mass swathes of land in a day? How in the world could such a horrific demon exist‽ Unfortunately for him, the Zoroark could read his doubt.
"If you take me for a fool, then I can show you what one looks like."
"What one looks like‽ No! NO! If there's more than one of those… those things, then I'd much rather do whatever it takes to never see one in my life!"
"Well, look no further, since I'm your best bet."
The Braixen took a few moments to process what he heard, before sighing anxiously. Like it or not, he felt like he was trying to pick from one of two bad outcomes.
"...Fine, but don't expect me to like it."
"Ah, good. I already made the preparations for what we're doing, so we can go whenever you're ready."
"Well, might as well get it over with sooner rather than later."
With their discussion concluding, the Zoroark proceeded to throw a simple satchel to the Braixen, who promptly browsed its contents. Inside, he found some basic first-aid supplies, a few bundles of sticks and cacnea spikes, a couple days' worth of rations, and some sort of scarf.
"It's some basic tools you'll want to make use of," explained the Zoroark. "The scarf in there has some poison-diluting effect, I believe, but I got it more-so to act as a bandage if needed. I also got some sticks if you need some magic or something, but it's up to you if you want to use them or not."
"Duly noted."
The two then left the inn, and then proceeded to leave Riverrend to head to the graveyard that the tomb containing the artifact resided in. After about an hour's worth of walking that disproved the notion that it was nearby, both pokemon eventually arrived at a derelict gate that held a very prominent mausoleum behind it. When the Zoroark picked the lock, the gates collapsed into a pile of rusted metal rods with pointed ends that were originally meant to deter pokemon from climbing over it.
"Well, I can certainly see where the budget cuts went."
"It's more like people just… stopped coming here," replied the Braixen somewhat warily. "I mean, look at all those graves… I may be a castle-boy or whatever you call nobles, but I'm fairly sure a graveyard shouldn't have plants covering everything."
As if to prove his point, he gestured around to the several headstones that were covered in moss, and the vines snaking their way up the mausoleum. Even if nobody had came here for a while, there would be at least a gravekeeper to deal with the undergrowth to prevent things from getting unkempt.
"Good observation… we should watch each other's backs. Nobody simply stops tending to graves… unless something drove everyone off."
The pair of pokemon proceeded to warily approach the mausoleum, the oppressively lonely atmosphere keeping both of them tense. The simple rustling of leaves was enough to make the Zoroark draw a corsola spike in anticipation of an encounter, although none came. After what felt like an eternity, both of them reached the heavy stone doors of the tomb they sought. With some strenuous effort, they managed to push one of the slabs just enough so they could get inside the pitch-black confines of the crypt. In order to get some proper light, the Braixen took one of the sticks and ran it through his tail, igniting it in the process and illuminating the nine stone coffins in the first room they were in.
"So… I guess now we just open up each coffin in each room in this place…?"
"It shouldn't be that easy, White-Shirt… I wouldn't expect a mausoleum to have many traps, but if there are any, they'd probably relate to opening coffins. We should search for anything we can use to help us, first… like whatever that is on the wall over there."
At the Zoroark's gesture, the Braixen swung his torch in the direction indicated, revealing text that he was capable of understanding. Curiously, he proceeded to approach it and look it over, soon realizing exactly what type of literature he was dealing with.
"Hmm… This seems to be an ancient form of footprint calligraphy. It's still used today as a form of coded message thanks to its archaic nature, mostly between diplomats and military generals from what I understand…"
"So you can translate it?"
"I was getting there! Yes, I can translate this text, but at the same time I'll have to take some time doing so in order to make sure I'm not missing anything. It could tell us a clue for how to find the right coffin or something, so watch my back as I do it… I mean, we still don't know if there's anything lurking out there or not… or in here, for that matter."
With an affirmative nod, the Zoroark proceeded to look around the room they were in, taking in the dusty cobwebs and oppressive atmosphere. Her eyes soon drifted to the nearest coffins, which reflected some of the torchlight on the metal plaques they bore. Curiously, she investigated the plaques, but instead of finding anything that would identify the decaying corpse inside of it, she instead found numbers that she was able to identify as "1," "4," and "7" from left to right, with the rest logically being numbered in ascending order.
"Ah, here we go," said the Braixen after he finished deciphering the ancient language. "While it's not a perfect translation, it is a hint… Ahem. '23 is number 1, while 486 is number 9. Figure what lies in the mist in between, and the path shall reveal itself.' Or, in layman's terms, we seem to need to figure out some equation for each row to reveal the right path."
The Braixen proceeded to bow his head in thought, unsure what exactly was being asked of him by the puzzle. The Zoroark was equally puzzled, until an idea came to her mind.
"Hey, White-Shirt, you ever hear of a digital root?"
"...What?"
"Hmm… Guess not. Anyway, I think the hint is asking us to add up the number on each coffin, then add up the digits we get from that, and so on, until we're left with a single number."
"Erm, I'm afraid I don't follow…"
"Okay, you said '486 is number 9' while reading out the puzzle, right? Well, let's use that as an example. First, we pretend that we are adding the 4, 8, and 6 as separate numbers, which gets us… four and eight is twelve, twelve and six is eighteen… Yeah, 18. Then, we do it again since we have two digits, which would leave us with 9. Since 9 plus nothing is 9, that's why 486 is 9."
"Ah, I see… So if we add up all the coffin numbers, and then add up those numbers until we only have one number left, then that's our coffin."
The two proceeded to do the math, and soon came to the conclusion that the coffin they were looking for was number nine. Still, something bothered the Braixen, and he realized it just as the Zoroark began pushing the coffin lid off.
"Wait… '23 is number 1…' ZOROARK, STOP!"
Unfortunately, his warning came too late to prevent her from uncovering the lid. Still, without his exclamation, she would not have dodged a spear trap that would have easily impaled her had she reacted any later. Nonetheless, a deep, groaning sound rumbled from beneath them, as if they had disturbed some evil entity. After some time, as if it needed to wake up, it spoke in a booming, ear-catching voice that caused some pebbles to dislodge from the ceiling.
"PURSUERS OF THE SEALED TREASURE… YOU WERE LUCKY TO EVADE INJURY. NEXT TIME, HOWEVER, YOU WILL SUFFER. FAIL TO FIND THE RIGHT PATH ONCE MORE BEYOND THAT, AND BOTH OF YOU SHALL PAY THE ULTIMATE PRICE."
The groaning noise rang out again, as if the source were falling asleep, leaving both adventurers shaken from what they have heard. Even the Zoroark, who has seen many a sight in the world and gotten into just as many conflicts before, found herself growing anxious.
"...Okay, so I'd guess we have two more chances before we die," said the Braixen in a tense manner. "Erm, anyway, what I was going to say was that '486 is number 9' was the clue to '23 is number 1…' but still, how are we supposed to figure out whether it's 5 or 6, assuming my math isn't off?"
"...Hold on, you said 23 is number 1, right? Well, what if Coffin 5 is actually 1? So that means… six is two, seven is three-"
"The right coffin is 4, if that's what you're getting at… You sure about it? I mean, we haven't really seen anyone, and honestly, that floor ghost sounds pretty convincing…"
"Look, White-Shirt, sometimes you'll have to make tough calls. Sure, not all of them are going to be life-or-death decisions like this, but consider this a learning experience… It's just that it's 'swim or die' with a very loose safety net. Anyway, take your pick and I'll move it."
"That's hardly reassuring… I guess we'll try 4 and hope for the best."
The Zoroark proceeded to push the lid off of the coffin it lay upon. Agonizing second after agonizing second passed as anxiety steadily built up. After what felt like half an hour, a dull thud echoed throughout the mausoleum.
Judging by how the Zoroark wasn't skewered and how there was a staircase leading down hidden inside it, the fourth coffin was indeed the right choice, though there was a definite feeling they had merely had a stroke of luck. While they had indeed chosen the right path, that didn't dispel any tension that hung in the air. After all, there was still the matter of the mysterious voice and just who - or what - that owned it.
"You first, White-Shirt. This is your test."
Just as the Braixen was about to lead the way, he found himself hesitating as something caught his eye where the spear trap was, which raised his suspicions greatly and made him step back.
"Those spears in that trap you unveiled… are they made of rock?"
"Maybe, maybe not. Why do care, anyway?"
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't there moves that lay traps that activate if a pokemon gets near enough?"
"Well, duh, they're fairly common in certain tourneys from what I've seen. You've these caltrop things, poisonous thorns, floating rocks, and ensnaring string-"
"Do the rocks have a definite shape?"
"No, but as far as I know they can be altered somewhat. So I assume you want me to go on ahead based on that?"
"What else would you expect me to do? Blindly lead the way, well aware I could find my fire sac ruptured by a damned rock spear and resulting in my body literally incinerating itself‽ Even then, you said that this is a test for me, but nothing about being able to use you as a tool, either! Didn't you push the coffin lids, anyway?"
The Zoroark blinked some, not really able to come up with anything to refute his points. She opened her mouth a couple times as if she was grasping for words, only to chuckle somewhat nervously, sigh, and grin while shaking her head.
"...Hah, I guess you got me there. You could have just said 'ladies first,' but whatever works for you."
The pair proceeded down the stairwell, which due to being built with the concept of a coffin completely concealing it, was uncomfortably narrow. This only made the claustrophobic sensations brought about by the stagnant air of the deeper section of the crypt only more intense. After approximately 186 steps, the pair found themselves reaching a dead-end room. While there was no other obvious exits beyond one that a large statue crafted from obsidian stood in front of, the extravagantly-crafted pillars and the chiseled murals that lined the walls indicated that this was the resting place of an important figure… and the bones that covered portions of the floor indicated they weren't the first ones to come down here.
"We should be careful," said the Zoroark. "You never know what kind of traps might-"
She was cut off by the sound of a large stone slab falling behind them, trapping them in the room. She looked at the Braixen, then at her own foot as she realized she had unintentionally triggered a pressure plate that closed the door behind them. After shrugging, both pokemon found their attention directed to the statue, a rumbling voice emanating from it that sounded similar to the one they heard earlier.
"PURSUERS OF THE SEALED TREASURE… ONLY THOSE WITH CONVICTION MAY SEEK AN AUDIENCE WITH THE MEADOW-WALKER. IF YOU SHALL SURVIVE THIS ENCOUNTER, THEN YOU MAY PROCEED."
After speaking, an electric phantom of some kind sparked out of the pressure plate, and swiftly arced from stone to stone as if it was electricity bouncing from node to node as it went to the statue. The Zoroark went forwards as if to stop it, only to back off as it entered the monument and made it come to life.
"DESTROY ME, AN AVATAR OF NECROZMA, OR WELCOME THIS FORBIDDEN CRYPT AS YOUR GRAVE!"
At the possessed Golem's words, the Zoroark drew two corsola spikes, while the Braixen waved the torch in front of him with uncertainty.
"White-Shirt!" exclaimed the Zoroark. "This thing is a Rotom! If you have anything good against ghosts or rocks, now's the time to use it-Wagh!"
The Zoroark barely dodged a crushing blow by the golem, which was much faster than its lumbering appearance suggested. As it readied to swing at her again, embers collided against its rocky body. In annoyance, it proceeded to turn towards the Braixen, who had done excessively little to it.
"...Shit."
"FOOL. DO YOU EARNESTLY BELIEVE THAT IS ENOUGH?"
Before he was able to react, the golem grabbed the Braixen and glared as best as a stone statue could. As it reared back to crush his skull in a Head Smash, the automatous sculpture found itself dropping its would-be victim and glaring at the Zoroark, who had jammed a bone into a crack and was attempting to use leverage to cripple it. In agitation, it raised an arm crackling with electricity and fired off a Signal Beam. The room was filled with her pained scream as she was sent into one of the pillars, some rubble raining from the ceiling after she apparently fell unconscious.
"A NOBLE ATTEMPT TO SAVE YOUR LIFE. A PITY IT WAS IN VAIN."
The golem proceeded to stomp at the Braixen, who barely rolled away as it crushed the torch into burning splinters. In a complete panic, he grabbed the femur of a deceased challenger and ran it through his tail to ignite it, the flames taking on an unusual blue hue. Clearly unamused, the golem crackled with electricity as it pointed its arm at the Braixen.
"DIE."
The Braixen found himself hesitating. Despite being in a life-or-death situation, the thought of violating the magic taboo hung heavily in his thoughts. He was swiftly brought back to reality, however, when the golem was forced to cancel its Thunder and deal with the Zoroark when she abruptly threw one of the bones that littered the ground in a Fling, which was less effective than she expected it to be.
"White-Shirt, shoot it now!"
"DO YOU THINK A PATHETIC WARRIOR WILL SAVE YOU, ZOROAR-RRRRRRGH!"
The golem stumbled as a blue beam of chilled energy shot out and froze its dominant arm, it shattering from the attack. Everyone was visibly surprised at the Ice Beam, especially the Braixen despite casting the attack himself.
"Holy… The hell was tha- Gyaaah!"
The Braixen found himself cut off as a Thunderbolt emanating from the golem's other arm tore through the femur bone he wielded and his white shirt, and blasted him in the chest, his fur literally burnt off where he was struck. Further compounding the issue was the paralysis he experienced in the right side of his body, hindering his ability to fight back in turn.
"PARLOR TRICKS WILL ONLY GET YOU SO FAR. NOW, ZOROARK, SURRENDER AND MEET YOUR MAKER."
"Pah, why would I want to meet an old coot I don't even know now? If you insist, though, I'll let you throw in a couple free punches."
Unaware of the Zoroark's bluff behind her Taunt, the golem took a couple steps to try and attack her… only to trip over a rope that she had tied between two pillars, the end of which in her offhand so she could cover it in illusionary invisibility that was lifted as soon as the stone monster fell over it. Its own weight proceeded to work against it, as the fall caused its upper body to shatter into pieces. Despite this issue, it somehow managed to get back onto its mostly-intact legs.
"AS LONG AS I CAN MANIPULATE THIS BODY OF STONE, YOU HAVE NOT BESTED ME YET."
"Grrk… I don't think so… Telekinesis!"
The Braixen had managed to overcome his paralysis enough to draw a stick out of his bag while the golem was distracted with the Zoroark, and lit it as he spoke. After doing so, he threw his tool at his foe, lifting them up into the air once it collided with them.
"I FAIL TO SEE HOW YOUR ATTACK IS RELEVANT."
"Gah… It's not me attacking… What goes up comes down, right…?"
"WHAT‽"
What remained of the golem fruitlessly kicked the air as it was lifted up to the ceiling of the room, before the Telekinesis unceremoniously ended and it plummeted straight to the ground. The legs were completely pulverized by the fall, leaving nothing left of the golem that was able to continue fighting them. Tense seconds passed, before a series of blue sparks rose out of the rubble and revealed itself to be a Rotom.
"YOU HAVE BESTED ME…" muttered the Rotom in defeat, its voice still far louder and deeper than its diminutive appearance would ever suggest. "PROCEED, AND CLAIM THE TREASURE."
The plasma-based pokemon proceeded to jump into the door that it was guarding, a clicking sound echoing out before it reappeared, apparently unlocking some mechanism that prevented it from opening.
"ENTER, AND CLAIM YOUR REWARD. A SECRET PASSAGE WILL LEAD YOU OUT. AS FOR ME… MY DUTY LIES ELSEWHERE, NOW."
After saying this, the Rotom left for parts unknown. Both pokemon there merely shrugged as best they could, before tending to their injuries. After applying a simple paste made out of Oran and Cheri berries, both of them continued to the next room, where a single coffin covered in moss lay. It was somewhat hard to believe that foliage could grow down in the murky depths of the crypt, but more importantly was how it seemed to be the correct grave. After they had opened it, they were greeted with the bones of a human, a bracer clasped around where its wrist would be.
"W-What‽" muttered the Zoroark. "A human‽ What's it doing here‽"
"Beats me," replied the Braixen in a passive, tired tone as exhaustion gripped his weakened body. "Maybe they came in from across the sea, given that humans aren't native here, but are across the sea? Or it could be someone brought in from another world like those stories go…"
As the Braixen spoke, he reached into the coffin to pick up the bracer. When he gripped it, however, he found the world around him spinning around in a horrific mess of colors as his senses dulled. The Zoroark called out to him, but was only met with a lifeless gaze.
"F e h n… r i s…"
After sputtering out a name, everything he saw melded into a uniform black before he lost consciousness, his own body unable to keep up with its own demands.