Cavespider_17
Charlie
- 105
- Posts
- 7
- Years
- She/Her
- U.K
- Seen Feb 26, 2025
Summary:
When a peace summit in the neutral town of Marsten is interrupted by a trainer and a rogue charizard, war between the two Coltese regions: Colran and Elktan erupts. James, a fourteen-year-old Colran boy finds himself in occupied Fehahra. With his bloodline mercilessly being hunted by Elktan, James must find a way to live in the new upside-down world. Meanwhile, an ancient prophecy has failed once more, and has decided to reroll its candidates.
Warning: This story is rated Teen. It contains: Strong Language; Moderate Violence, such as: non-explicit examples, indications and outcomes of abuse, depictions of blood, depictions of death, depictions of threat and depictions of injury, and a few cases of more explicit injury; Mental Illness: such as PTSD; Moderately Mature Themes: such as: slavery and war, and Substance Usage: Mostly alcohol with the occasional drug mention.
These warnings are for every chapter, although they may not be present in every chapter.
In the event that something seems too much, please let me know and I'll happily change or censor it.
Chapter List
01. The Marsten Hall Tragedy
02. The Scars of Marsten Hall
03. Hero in Akrat
04. The Festival Begins
05. A Close Call
06. The Finalists
07. The Captain
08. Cruel World
09. Breaking Free
10. Secrets and Promises
11. Satchels Full of Beautiflies
12. Dorms and Detention
13. Takui Family Hell
14. Past Pain
15. Tale
16. Deeper Than a Flesh Wound
17. Trusting Lord Ikur
18. Truths and Secrets
19. If Only, If Only, You Didn't Come Out Today
20. All That Turns to Dust
21. Interrogation
22. Roar
23. The Missing
24. Trap
25. Reroll Your Odds
26. Memories
Sunday, February 14th, 1989
When a peace summit in the neutral town of Marsten is interrupted by a trainer and a rogue charizard, war between the two Coltese regions: Colran and Elktan erupts. James, a fourteen-year-old Colran boy finds himself in occupied Fehahra. With his bloodline mercilessly being hunted by Elktan, James must find a way to live in the new upside-down world. Meanwhile, an ancient prophecy has failed once more, and has decided to reroll its candidates.
Warning: This story is rated Teen. It contains: Strong Language; Moderate Violence, such as: non-explicit examples, indications and outcomes of abuse, depictions of blood, depictions of death, depictions of threat and depictions of injury, and a few cases of more explicit injury; Mental Illness: such as PTSD; Moderately Mature Themes: such as: slavery and war, and Substance Usage: Mostly alcohol with the occasional drug mention.
These warnings are for every chapter, although they may not be present in every chapter.
In the event that something seems too much, please let me know and I'll happily change or censor it.
Chapter List
Spoiler:
01. The Marsten Hall Tragedy
02. The Scars of Marsten Hall
03. Hero in Akrat
04. The Festival Begins
05. A Close Call
06. The Finalists
07. The Captain
08. Cruel World
09. Breaking Free
10. Secrets and Promises
11. Satchels Full of Beautiflies
12. Dorms and Detention
13. Takui Family Hell
14. Past Pain
15. Tale
16. Deeper Than a Flesh Wound
17. Trusting Lord Ikur
18. Truths and Secrets
19. If Only, If Only, You Didn't Come Out Today
20. All That Turns to Dust
21. Interrogation
22. Roar
23. The Missing
24. Trap
25. Reroll Your Odds
26. Memories
The Marsten Hall Tragedy
1
Sunday, February 14th, 1989
Moonlight gleamed through the blue and green panes of the stained-glass window onto a torn-up piece of crinkled paper which lay on the table at the entrance of Marsten Hall. The light divided perfectly along the middle, with the top half being the northern forest green and the bottom the southern navy blue. Eyes of former rulers from Elktan, Colran and Kilgor staring disapprovingly from their old painted portraits, which were peeling away in places. Each with their own golden inscription along the bottom. The most notable being that of Igor Rett, considered to be the first ruler of Kilgor.
The flags of each nation hung down along the wall, unswaying, as the wind blew gently down the corridor, like the nations themselves. Unchanging, determined, and locked into their own cultures.
The purple carpet, matched the colour of the Kilgorese flag, and led up to the crinkled paper, on which a former peace treaty had been written in fine prose. The carpet was coated in new dusty boot prints, and high-heeled shoes led into the ballroom. The footprints flickered under the light of the chandelure, which danced above the room. The music leaked out of the ballroom, flickering between string Colran and woodwind Elkran tunes. The waltz escaped the hall and down to the bottom of the hill as easily as the single state of Kilgor had been divided into Colran and Elktan.
Despite the music filling him with energy, James could feel a burning in his stomach. He had held off eating all day, and he was glad, as he squeezed through the smallest gap in the entranceway towards the main ballroom. He could see the Lords congregating inside, blocking the view of the negotiation table in a sea of green and blue. To his surprise, he couldn't spot a slither of purple amongst the crowd.
Lord Elite Madison must be there, he thought, eager to meet his hero. James felt his fingers grind against the fray, and his knees, through his trousers, touch the dirty carpet. He took a deep breath in. His vision blurred a little, and his hands started to sweat as he could hear the footsteps of Lords and Ladies surrounding him. He felt more nauseous with every single sound.
Focus, I need to get in. It is so busy, with all these people there is no way anyone would notice me. I must see Madison. James felt a gown brush against his head. That was his cue. He dived forward to get through the gap in the door. His throat tightened, and his legs froze. His fair skin started to turn pale when he heard a bombardment of words shouted at him as his red hair was flung in front of his red eyes.
"I don't understand! Talk Colrat you jerk!" James said. His right-hand trembling and his fingers twitching, he could feel the spinarak silk shirt, but not the tooth button. More words passed through his ears, and he took a deep breath as his knees ached. James looked down and saw the carpet with tiny specs of blood on it. His knees tingled.
"Hey, sorry about my colleague." a man said as he waved his arms in front of him. The man knelt beside James; his blue tie brushed against James's head. "What are you trying to do? I guess it has something to do with going somewhere you shouldn't, am I right?"
"Fuck off, you Elktan jerk!" James pushed his hands against the ground and darted forward. However, the man's hand was bashed against his chest. James looked up at the dark-skinned man standing a foot taller than him. His blue uniform jacket drooped down over the top of his black trousers. His blue buttoned up shirt was tucked in tightly.
"What's your name? I am Lord Orag, from Elktan. You aren't in trouble, but you can't get in here. You aren't a Lord or a young Lord." Lord Orag smiled at James. His hand pressed against his sword, with the tips of his fingers stretched out ready to grip the blade.
James screwed up his nose and gritted his teeth. He pushed Lord Orag, however, his push was met by what felt like a wall. "Why do you care? You and Lord Piscar are jerks!"
Civilians and Lords surrounding the entrance stiffened up, and a deafening silence fell. They stared down at James with piercing eyes. Their lips pursed. Sweat rolled down the faces of some, while others closed their fists.
Lord Orag, however, placed a hand on James's shoulder. "It is just important, and I don't know what Lord Piscar has to do with any of this. He is very busy. Calm down and be respectful or I will have to drag you away from here." He tilted his hat back and locked eyes again with James.
"I am not bowing to you, you jerk!" James reached into his pocket, pulling out a poké ball. Its green top glistened in the moonlight. The hook-like clasp which held onto the base swung up with the flick of James's fingers. James, glancing up from the Eldredge knotted tie of Lord Orag, pulled his arm back and swung it around forward with force.
A voice called out from amongst the crowd. "James? Where are you, James?"
Holding onto his poké ball, James turned his head, trying to pinpoint the noise. Before he could finish the throw, he felt his wrist being grabbed. James's eyes shot wide open and he saw the guard's fingers wrapped around his wrist. Quickly, James placed his hand on top of the guard's fingers, and tried to pull them off.
"James! What the… oh my… cressellia's moon! My Lord, I am so sorry. I humbly apologise for him. Please, sir, do not report this. I beg you," a boy said. The base of his green jacket brushed against the dusty footprints on the carpet. He winced as his shin pressed into the carpet. "Sir? I apologise, please, let him go."
"I can take care of it myself, Pierre!" James snapped.
Lord Orag smiled at the boy, and glanced at James with amusement. "No harm was done. I have nothing to report. If I did, I'd be a bore. I have nothing against a little enthusiasm. I was a kid, too, once. However, sneaking into a building one is not supposed to be in is a bit of a stretch." He released James's wrist and pressed his fingers against his ear.
Why does he have a hearing aid? Is that why he didn't hear Pierre the first time? James thought. And his ear has burn marks all over it. I guess he sucks in battle and got fried. Serves the bastard right.
"Just try to keep him out of trouble from now on. I wouldn't want a war accidentally started because a Colran kid started a battle with an Elkran Lord, letting a large Pokémon like an onix loose and smash through walls, killing innocent people. I wouldn't have cared if it was against me on the fields, but some others might take it personally." Lord Orag opened his hand and reached to Pierre. "Maybe later, if you would like, we can have a battle. I am sure it would be beneficial for you. Always something to learn."
Pierre opened his left hand, taking a deep exhale. He took Lord Orag's hand, and with his right hand, he pushed his glasses back onto his nose. "Yes, sir, thank you. Honestly, I wanted to get inside myself as a young Lord. However, I should take James back to his parents. Thank you again, sir." Pierre pushed his fringe back, and tightened his ponytail.
James felt his feet being dragged along the grass, and away from the hall. "What are you doing? Let me go!" Digging his heels into the ground, he screamed, "I want to fight that jerk!"
"James, stop. You could have been arrested or, worse, executed. Come on, what's this really about?" Pierre eased his grip, and James's arm slipped through his grasp. "You are way too angry today." He glanced at James, who shrugged at him, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Show me," Pierre said, reaching for James's shirt. His hands got pushed down, and a soft throbbing echoed through his wrist. "That bastard…" Pierre's eyes focused on James's chest. "Hey, I promise when tonight is over, I'll deal with that bastard myself. Screw getting in trouble. No one messes with my brother's best friend and gets away with it. Especially not a psycho like him." Pierre reached up and adjusted his hat. "Come on, Kuti saved you some qwilfish sticks. Also, your other friends Lioa and his brother, what's his name? Andrew. They should be coming soon with their parents."
Should have said that sooner, James thought as a smile crept across his face and his stomach rumbled. The waft of smoked qwilfish crossed his nostrils. His feet followed his nostrils down the hill.
James scooted onto the picnic table next to a boy with short black hair. His eyes were dimly grey, just like his brother, Pierre's. The boy reached over, keeping his eyes fixated on the table. His hair draped over his pale skin. He picked up a qwilfish on a stick and lifted it. He smiled as James took it from him before staring back at the table. A klink whizzed around behind him.
"Hey Kitiku. Hey Rusto. Hey James! Did you get to see them? Huh? Huh? Did you?" a boy with messy cyan hair and dark beige skin asked, nudging him.
"No, I was 'augh' 'y an El''an 'er'," James answered.
"In a language we can understand, twat." The boy squeezed next to James. His green eyes glimmered in the moonlight.
James swallowed. "No, I was caught by an Elktan Jerk. And you are the twat, Li. Where is Ano? Never mind, it doesn't matter." James looked at Kitiku and smiled.
Lioa shoved his hands in his pockets. "Rew is with dad. Mum and dad had another fight, because she doesn't appreciate the fact he is a soldier and a hero." He slammed his hand on the table and grabbed some fried miltank. "At least Kitiku and Pierre's parents remember to bring food."
"Hey, Kuti, thanks for saving me some qwil-" A shiver shot down James's spine, and he felt the bites on his chest stab him in pain. His eyes shot wide open.
A voice stabbed through the air, like the pains in his chest. "That's where you went, little runt." The man's swinging arms were blocked by Pierre using his forearms. His fists clenched, and he rushed forward, slamming them into the man's chest. The man staggered back, and Pierre touched the first poké ball on his belt.
"Veravoso, let's deal with this bastard." Pierre pressed the poké ball's button, and a sawk poured out in front of him. "Use fire punch!" The sawk bounced back and forwards on the tips of its toes and lunged forwards, striking the man in the chest. A bell rang out over the village, and Pierre turned to face the hall for a brief moment. "If you want me to beat you up, keep going, Hanson." Pierre pressed the button on his poké ball, returning his sawk. "You and I will talk about this later. I, unlike you, have Lord's business to attend to." Pierre raised his fist up to his face, and a brown stone shimmered on his watch.
"As do I, and as does Carla," Hanson Rei replied. His ginger hair blowing from side to side.
"Lord's business? I doubt that. You may have been born in Kilgor but even they didn't want a monster like you." Pierre glared into Hanson Rei's eyes. "I'll be back soon, James."
James looked down at the floor and shuffled his feet. No, he thought. His shot forward after Pierre, who was walking towards Marsten Hall. "D-don't go, Pierre…" The words barely hearable escaped his breath. His eyes flicked back up to where Hanson Rei was standing. Another shiver went down his spine as the psychopath was nowhere to be seen. Why did you marry that… Why did you go and die? James looked back at the ground, watching his shoes sink into the grass.
Warm air passed over James's skin, and a loud sound echoed through the village. James felt his hair blow over his face and a stinging sensation erupted from his head.
"J-! -ey? James?" Lioa called out.
James looked up. "What?" He placed his hand on the back of his head and sat up. He looked at his hand to see specs of blood on it. He reached up and took Lioa's hand. His bloody and sweaty palm slipped a little in Lioa's hand.
Back on his feet, James's stare ignored Lioa in front of him and fixated on Marsten Hall. Specks of orange and red floated through the air, and the smell of burning flesh and roasting pokémon flooded his senses. Pierre? James shot a glance at Kitiku. Kitiku's eyes were wider than his own, and his body shook. His shoes pressed against each other, where he stood frozen in place.
The roof crumbled, and James's focus snapped as a charizard shot through the roof, scars coating its wings from tip to toe. Windows shattered as it roared, flying off into the night sky. Mum? That's your charizard… why is it coming from the building? Why is the building on fire? Mum?
Silhouettes stepped into the smoke, catching James's eyes. He turned to face them. Their swords were drawn and pointed at one another, with a samurott and aggron alongside them.
The first called out into the night, "Setting fire to the building, really? That is a low from even you." The voice was elderly, but sounded hostile.
"I don't attack my own. Simple as that," the second replied, with a younger, deeper tone.
Immediately, the elderly Lord responded, "That's a lie, and you know it. This means war. Attacking at a peace convention, at a ball… that's what you stand for. I will make sure this never happens again."
As the smoke cleared, the figures had disbanded. James's stomach started to churn at not knowing who had said what. Only that he could take a guess. He had never seen Lord Piscar, not even on a leaflet. All he knew was war was coming now. Lord Elite Piscar and Lord Elite Madison had initiated it. Piscar is a monster… and now… now… mum... Is it over?
The flags of each nation hung down along the wall, unswaying, as the wind blew gently down the corridor, like the nations themselves. Unchanging, determined, and locked into their own cultures.
The purple carpet, matched the colour of the Kilgorese flag, and led up to the crinkled paper, on which a former peace treaty had been written in fine prose. The carpet was coated in new dusty boot prints, and high-heeled shoes led into the ballroom. The footprints flickered under the light of the chandelure, which danced above the room. The music leaked out of the ballroom, flickering between string Colran and woodwind Elkran tunes. The waltz escaped the hall and down to the bottom of the hill as easily as the single state of Kilgor had been divided into Colran and Elktan.
Despite the music filling him with energy, James could feel a burning in his stomach. He had held off eating all day, and he was glad, as he squeezed through the smallest gap in the entranceway towards the main ballroom. He could see the Lords congregating inside, blocking the view of the negotiation table in a sea of green and blue. To his surprise, he couldn't spot a slither of purple amongst the crowd.
Lord Elite Madison must be there, he thought, eager to meet his hero. James felt his fingers grind against the fray, and his knees, through his trousers, touch the dirty carpet. He took a deep breath in. His vision blurred a little, and his hands started to sweat as he could hear the footsteps of Lords and Ladies surrounding him. He felt more nauseous with every single sound.
Focus, I need to get in. It is so busy, with all these people there is no way anyone would notice me. I must see Madison. James felt a gown brush against his head. That was his cue. He dived forward to get through the gap in the door. His throat tightened, and his legs froze. His fair skin started to turn pale when he heard a bombardment of words shouted at him as his red hair was flung in front of his red eyes.
"I don't understand! Talk Colrat you jerk!" James said. His right-hand trembling and his fingers twitching, he could feel the spinarak silk shirt, but not the tooth button. More words passed through his ears, and he took a deep breath as his knees ached. James looked down and saw the carpet with tiny specs of blood on it. His knees tingled.
"Hey, sorry about my colleague." a man said as he waved his arms in front of him. The man knelt beside James; his blue tie brushed against James's head. "What are you trying to do? I guess it has something to do with going somewhere you shouldn't, am I right?"
"Fuck off, you Elktan jerk!" James pushed his hands against the ground and darted forward. However, the man's hand was bashed against his chest. James looked up at the dark-skinned man standing a foot taller than him. His blue uniform jacket drooped down over the top of his black trousers. His blue buttoned up shirt was tucked in tightly.
"What's your name? I am Lord Orag, from Elktan. You aren't in trouble, but you can't get in here. You aren't a Lord or a young Lord." Lord Orag smiled at James. His hand pressed against his sword, with the tips of his fingers stretched out ready to grip the blade.
James screwed up his nose and gritted his teeth. He pushed Lord Orag, however, his push was met by what felt like a wall. "Why do you care? You and Lord Piscar are jerks!"
Civilians and Lords surrounding the entrance stiffened up, and a deafening silence fell. They stared down at James with piercing eyes. Their lips pursed. Sweat rolled down the faces of some, while others closed their fists.
Lord Orag, however, placed a hand on James's shoulder. "It is just important, and I don't know what Lord Piscar has to do with any of this. He is very busy. Calm down and be respectful or I will have to drag you away from here." He tilted his hat back and locked eyes again with James.
"I am not bowing to you, you jerk!" James reached into his pocket, pulling out a poké ball. Its green top glistened in the moonlight. The hook-like clasp which held onto the base swung up with the flick of James's fingers. James, glancing up from the Eldredge knotted tie of Lord Orag, pulled his arm back and swung it around forward with force.
A voice called out from amongst the crowd. "James? Where are you, James?"
Holding onto his poké ball, James turned his head, trying to pinpoint the noise. Before he could finish the throw, he felt his wrist being grabbed. James's eyes shot wide open and he saw the guard's fingers wrapped around his wrist. Quickly, James placed his hand on top of the guard's fingers, and tried to pull them off.
"James! What the… oh my… cressellia's moon! My Lord, I am so sorry. I humbly apologise for him. Please, sir, do not report this. I beg you," a boy said. The base of his green jacket brushed against the dusty footprints on the carpet. He winced as his shin pressed into the carpet. "Sir? I apologise, please, let him go."
"I can take care of it myself, Pierre!" James snapped.
Lord Orag smiled at the boy, and glanced at James with amusement. "No harm was done. I have nothing to report. If I did, I'd be a bore. I have nothing against a little enthusiasm. I was a kid, too, once. However, sneaking into a building one is not supposed to be in is a bit of a stretch." He released James's wrist and pressed his fingers against his ear.
Why does he have a hearing aid? Is that why he didn't hear Pierre the first time? James thought. And his ear has burn marks all over it. I guess he sucks in battle and got fried. Serves the bastard right.
"Just try to keep him out of trouble from now on. I wouldn't want a war accidentally started because a Colran kid started a battle with an Elkran Lord, letting a large Pokémon like an onix loose and smash through walls, killing innocent people. I wouldn't have cared if it was against me on the fields, but some others might take it personally." Lord Orag opened his hand and reached to Pierre. "Maybe later, if you would like, we can have a battle. I am sure it would be beneficial for you. Always something to learn."
Pierre opened his left hand, taking a deep exhale. He took Lord Orag's hand, and with his right hand, he pushed his glasses back onto his nose. "Yes, sir, thank you. Honestly, I wanted to get inside myself as a young Lord. However, I should take James back to his parents. Thank you again, sir." Pierre pushed his fringe back, and tightened his ponytail.
James felt his feet being dragged along the grass, and away from the hall. "What are you doing? Let me go!" Digging his heels into the ground, he screamed, "I want to fight that jerk!"
"James, stop. You could have been arrested or, worse, executed. Come on, what's this really about?" Pierre eased his grip, and James's arm slipped through his grasp. "You are way too angry today." He glanced at James, who shrugged at him, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Show me," Pierre said, reaching for James's shirt. His hands got pushed down, and a soft throbbing echoed through his wrist. "That bastard…" Pierre's eyes focused on James's chest. "Hey, I promise when tonight is over, I'll deal with that bastard myself. Screw getting in trouble. No one messes with my brother's best friend and gets away with it. Especially not a psycho like him." Pierre reached up and adjusted his hat. "Come on, Kuti saved you some qwilfish sticks. Also, your other friends Lioa and his brother, what's his name? Andrew. They should be coming soon with their parents."
Should have said that sooner, James thought as a smile crept across his face and his stomach rumbled. The waft of smoked qwilfish crossed his nostrils. His feet followed his nostrils down the hill.
James scooted onto the picnic table next to a boy with short black hair. His eyes were dimly grey, just like his brother, Pierre's. The boy reached over, keeping his eyes fixated on the table. His hair draped over his pale skin. He picked up a qwilfish on a stick and lifted it. He smiled as James took it from him before staring back at the table. A klink whizzed around behind him.
"Hey Kitiku. Hey Rusto. Hey James! Did you get to see them? Huh? Huh? Did you?" a boy with messy cyan hair and dark beige skin asked, nudging him.
"No, I was 'augh' 'y an El''an 'er'," James answered.
"In a language we can understand, twat." The boy squeezed next to James. His green eyes glimmered in the moonlight.
James swallowed. "No, I was caught by an Elktan Jerk. And you are the twat, Li. Where is Ano? Never mind, it doesn't matter." James looked at Kitiku and smiled.
Lioa shoved his hands in his pockets. "Rew is with dad. Mum and dad had another fight, because she doesn't appreciate the fact he is a soldier and a hero." He slammed his hand on the table and grabbed some fried miltank. "At least Kitiku and Pierre's parents remember to bring food."
"Hey, Kuti, thanks for saving me some qwil-" A shiver shot down James's spine, and he felt the bites on his chest stab him in pain. His eyes shot wide open.
A voice stabbed through the air, like the pains in his chest. "That's where you went, little runt." The man's swinging arms were blocked by Pierre using his forearms. His fists clenched, and he rushed forward, slamming them into the man's chest. The man staggered back, and Pierre touched the first poké ball on his belt.
"Veravoso, let's deal with this bastard." Pierre pressed the poké ball's button, and a sawk poured out in front of him. "Use fire punch!" The sawk bounced back and forwards on the tips of its toes and lunged forwards, striking the man in the chest. A bell rang out over the village, and Pierre turned to face the hall for a brief moment. "If you want me to beat you up, keep going, Hanson." Pierre pressed the button on his poké ball, returning his sawk. "You and I will talk about this later. I, unlike you, have Lord's business to attend to." Pierre raised his fist up to his face, and a brown stone shimmered on his watch.
"As do I, and as does Carla," Hanson Rei replied. His ginger hair blowing from side to side.
"Lord's business? I doubt that. You may have been born in Kilgor but even they didn't want a monster like you." Pierre glared into Hanson Rei's eyes. "I'll be back soon, James."
James looked down at the floor and shuffled his feet. No, he thought. His shot forward after Pierre, who was walking towards Marsten Hall. "D-don't go, Pierre…" The words barely hearable escaped his breath. His eyes flicked back up to where Hanson Rei was standing. Another shiver went down his spine as the psychopath was nowhere to be seen. Why did you marry that… Why did you go and die? James looked back at the ground, watching his shoes sink into the grass.
Warm air passed over James's skin, and a loud sound echoed through the village. James felt his hair blow over his face and a stinging sensation erupted from his head.
"J-! -ey? James?" Lioa called out.
James looked up. "What?" He placed his hand on the back of his head and sat up. He looked at his hand to see specs of blood on it. He reached up and took Lioa's hand. His bloody and sweaty palm slipped a little in Lioa's hand.
Back on his feet, James's stare ignored Lioa in front of him and fixated on Marsten Hall. Specks of orange and red floated through the air, and the smell of burning flesh and roasting pokémon flooded his senses. Pierre? James shot a glance at Kitiku. Kitiku's eyes were wider than his own, and his body shook. His shoes pressed against each other, where he stood frozen in place.
The roof crumbled, and James's focus snapped as a charizard shot through the roof, scars coating its wings from tip to toe. Windows shattered as it roared, flying off into the night sky. Mum? That's your charizard… why is it coming from the building? Why is the building on fire? Mum?
Silhouettes stepped into the smoke, catching James's eyes. He turned to face them. Their swords were drawn and pointed at one another, with a samurott and aggron alongside them.
The first called out into the night, "Setting fire to the building, really? That is a low from even you." The voice was elderly, but sounded hostile.
"I don't attack my own. Simple as that," the second replied, with a younger, deeper tone.
Immediately, the elderly Lord responded, "That's a lie, and you know it. This means war. Attacking at a peace convention, at a ball… that's what you stand for. I will make sure this never happens again."
As the smoke cleared, the figures had disbanded. James's stomach started to churn at not knowing who had said what. Only that he could take a guess. He had never seen Lord Piscar, not even on a leaflet. All he knew was war was coming now. Lord Elite Piscar and Lord Elite Madison had initiated it. Piscar is a monster… and now… now… mum... Is it over?
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