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[PKMN FULL] The Age of Heroes [IC]

Which of the Legendaries/Paragons would the heroes meet in their quest?

  • Total voters
    24
Cassiopeia


"Here, here, little rat, I don't wanna hurt you."

The Rattata squealed, running as best he could through the empty, morning streets of Skyhaven. He was chased by that hungry menace who had no coin or desire for the luxuries the restaurants of Skyhaven offered. "I just want to kill you," Cass sneered, panting from the effort of running on all four. The Rattata took a turn in the dark alley. She turned, too... and bumped into somebody. She tumbled on the dirty ground, letting a scream of frustration for losing her balance.

Cass jerked her head up to see who she had bumped into, showing her teeth. It was a Pokemon in a black hood and cloak with runes glowing on its lining; the sun was against her eyes, right above him, so she couldn't quite see in the darkness of the hood. But she could see that a pair of fiery emerald eyes were locked upon her. That man was offering him his arm, which she took reluctantly. Normally, she wouldn't have. She needed no help from men. But she was intrigued.

"Are you alright?" the hooded man asked her kindly. Their eyes were on the same level; she glanced at the belt, where a small bag was hanging from.

Wonder what's in it. Lucky me if it's gold. "Of course," she retorted, somewhat aggravated. "You think a fall would faze Scorpius? You haven't been on the deck of a ship that sails right through waves twenty feet tall."

The hooded man gave a short laugh; she could see a half-smile in white fur beneath his hood.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" she demanded to know suddenly.

He removed his hood and she took a step back, seeing the Zangoose. "Alex!" she exclaimed. It wasn't the first time she had seen him. A few years ago, when Scorpius had docked in Port Ragho for the last time, she had met this man. It was Alex the Blackluster, a household guard of the Sinclair family. A Tauros ****s a better story than that. If he's a guard, then I'm a queen. He's an assassin, that's what he is. That lady just sends him to do all her dirty work, Scorpius thought contemptuously, not for the assassin, but for the noble who could fall so low regardless of what they preached of nobility. The last time she had seen Alex talking with the captain, she thought he looked like a boy then. A handsome one, but a boy still. Now he had grown. Towards an interesting direction.

"Cassiopeia," he bowed his head slightly with his wicked smile.

"I am..." Scorpius, she was about to say, but then she remembered that Alex knew the real Scorpius personally.

"You are... charming, yes," Alex finished her sentence. She stared at him wildly, but before she could say a thing, he went on. "Your Rattata appears to have vanished," Alex said softly, without looking behind her in the alley.

"Aye," Cass said and poked his chest through the cloak, hard. "And I don't tolerate losing stuff. You owe me breakfast."

He shot his eyebrows playfully. "By all means," he said.

There was some sort of cafe, nearby, with the sea as view. The place wasn't close to the docks, so it didn't smell like ship and rat ****, so Cass was a bit disappointed as they were sitting down on a table. However, the hot cheese pie Alex bought for her served to sate her hunger. The Zangoose had gotten nothing for himself. He simply watched her eat it, having his hood put back on. The waiter looked at him questioningly, but he never spoke.

Cass gobbled up her cheese pie with no care for her manners. When she was done, Alex reached for her snout with his claws, stroking the cheese off of her fur... she let him, for some strange reason. Originally, she was planning to jet and leave him to pay the bill, but his green eyes kept her locked down on her chair, almost forcefully. It was an intriguing, beautiful and complex gaze. But she was still convinced he was just like any other man, wanting to get with her, albeit a little slow with his advance... how come he hasn't hit on me yet? Cass wondered. It was that sharp smile, though...

Alex put his small bag on the table and opened it. Inside was a small parcel. "Cassiopeia, I need you to do me a favor," he said, his voice a bit too commanding for her liking. She'd have refused immediately and punched him just for that, but again, something was stopping her. "Take this to a very special person. He is a Grumpig, namely Cenar, attending the Looking Glass auction in the West Wind district. In here is his payment for a dear service of his to me."

He pushed the parcel across the small table to her. Curse you, Alex, Cass thought, her fur bristling as she reached for the parcel, unable to resist. Alex leaned on his elbow, the end of his sleeve disappearing within his hood and his green gaze scrutinizing her. She avoided that gaze. She was like to fall for him.

"Not so bright, are you? How do you know I won't just keep it to myself?" she snickered, examining the parcel. It was too small, and there were no sound of coins in it as she shook it.

"Ah, that would be such a shame," Alex said softly, his dangerous smile still playing on his lips, "Cenar is a rather persuasive man, with friends in high places. Should I tell him that I was crossed by a Braixen, he'll go hanging all the Braixens in the city."

She laughed shrilly. "I'll be long gone. He won't find me."

"Perhaps not," Alex said, "but I will."

Cass tightened her snout, looking at the parcel again. "If it's so important, why don't you give it to him yourself?"

The Zangoose laughed, and she frowned. "Are you going to do this, or what?"

"Scorpius never backs down," she snapped at him, grabbing the parcel and bolting off. In her hurry, she had forgotten to ask for her reward. When she turned to look at the table, she found no one there. The hooded Zangoose had vanished.

"Kyogre take you, Alex," she shouted angrily, then looked down in embarrassment mixed with fury. He'll think I'm a fool, she thought, but why do I care what he thinks of me? That was a good question.



Alexander
​


It was the start of a sunny, cloudless day in Skyhaven. The streets were damp from last night's downpour, but the birds were happily chirping above him. Wild Pidgeys and Pidoves were oblivious to what was happening in the city. They were worried of no Zeal, nor were they leaving their homes. Taking his eyes off his newspaper, he looked hungrily at two Pidgeys that were sitting on the edge of a roof. He hadn't had his breakfast yet. He wouldn't fall as low as to eat on some lesser restaurant by the sea; Cassiopeia had no problem with it, though.

The Zangoose made his way down the street while reading his newspaper, feeling the sun warm his pale fur. He wasn't wearing his cloak, now - it was carefully folded inside his small bag. The street was filled with the jingling of the gold inside the many pouches that were hanging from his belt.

There was an uproar last night; people were starting to leave the city. The word had spread like wildfire: King Aion was marching to the city with the Crimson Company. Yet, there was no word of that on the press. The newspaper he was holding didn't mention the King at all. Its headline was, Zeal strikes again! Three ships had exploded in the docks, where he was right now. No one was killed. No one had Zeal's 'seal carved upon them'. And the author said nothing of the notebook the serial killer had used to talk to the Council with. Further on, the author mentioned the Council granting heroes access to the Pinnacle, an act which was supposedly outrageous... a mellow smile formed on his lips. The author claimed Rayquaza had been sighted in the sky, among the clouds to the north, early in the morning.

He made a tight scrap ball of the newspaper and pushed it down a bin as he walked down the path leading to the docks of Skyhaven. The sea's extent covered all the horizon, shining as the sun beat down upon it. The south seas. It was so beautiful, the world was so beautiful. It was sad to realize it would end, some day. It had to end.

A meek voice brought him back to reality. Turning around to see, it was a Scrafty, sitting on the dirty ground with his back leaning against the wall of a house. He was elderly, that was clear enough, and he had his hand extended. Begging. Alexander kneeled next to him, smiling broadly and genuinely as he looked at the coins the beggar had gathered in a hat that was turned upside down. A silver coin. That was one of the old, round coins; the new ones were shaped as berries. No, only a round one will do. He picked it up under the confused stare of the elderly Scrafty.

"I'll trade you a silver one for a golden one," Alex said, reaching for the small pouch on his belt; he tossed a single golden coin. The Scrafty looked at him suspiciously, then bit the coin, to ensure it was real gold. His face lit up when he realized it was true, and he nodded his head multiple times in pure bliss, to thank him. Alexander nodded back curtly, then got back up and left the old man.

Before the Zangoose had turned round the corner, he heard the elder man drop to the side on the cold, hard pavement with a thud.

He spun the silver coin in his black claws. Suddenly, his breath became fire. A tongue of flame was shot from his mouth, taking the coin and his claws. His claws had become white hot, the coin had started melting. He fiddled with it, reshaping it... now it was still round, but it had tiny, sharp edges that were not visible from a distance. Using a single claw, he chose one side and carved into it a word.

A dozen of Hussars - Archeops, Sigilyphs - were standing out of an inn that was on the road next to the docks and the sea. Their eyes met with his green gaze, but they didn't seem to tense up. What was a Zangoose going to do against all of them?

Above them, one of the windows of the inn burst open, a hand waving at the watching Hussars. "Let him in," someone shouted. "Alex, it's you, isn't it?"

"It's me," Alex confirmed quietly. The Hussars let him pass; as he entered, a pretty Glameow got past him. "Pardon me," he pleaded, and the lady spared him an interested glance.

The room he was looking for was in the last floor... as he got past more guards outside the door, he saw the huge Slaking laid on the couch next to the window. He was so fat, it was a wonder the couch hadn't collapsed on itself.

"Alex, Alex," Horace said with a scornful expression on his ugly face. "I have to get going, get out of this damned city before it swallows me whole! Where have you disappeared? What of our arrangements?"
"They had to be put off," Alex said calmly, tightening his fists into knots, the silver coin biting into his paw. Horace was a rich merchant from Hoolefar Island who owned a fleet of ships that sailed the south seas. He had offered to transport Lady Adelaide from Port Ragho to Skyhaven safely, and gave her dozens of gifts, in hopes of her accepting his marriage proposal. The thought alone made Alex bust a broad, wry smile at the merchant. He was certainly amused. Clearly, all these merchants were not aware who they were dealing with. Fat fool. Sure enough, my Lady would marry someone not quite to her liking, for the sake of Ragho. Never in a billion years would she marry a nigh uncivilized ape such as yourself. No. I have far grander plans for her...

He took a chair and made himself comfortable. "I must apologize, but a smart man like you surely understands the circumstances of our situation. It has been made apparent to me that you are not the only candidate for my Lady's hand."

The rich merchant's face darkened. "Sure, yes. Every single merchant wants her to grace him with marriage. But, I have told you how far our business can reach, should we marry successfully--"

"You have," Alex cut him off, rather abruptly. "And honestly, that is what everyone is speaking of. Like Briello." Talking like that to a person as powerful as Horace wasn't fitting; Alex was no one, not even lowborn. He lived to serve his Lady alone. But his nerve showed otherwise, and his manners surely classified him in the upper class. That is what gave him power over others. He could see Horace coming to this realization, that Alex was no mere servant of Lady Adelaide. He was her ally. They plotted for their own gain, together - Lady Addy would not marry any one without carefully thinking it over, and without considering Alex's opinion first.
The Zangoose spun the coin between his claws, but the merchant paid him no mind. The Slaking's face was full of doubt and fear. "I heard of my antagonist's death, Briello." He said, voice full of spite. "Lady Adelaide was staying in his palace, no?"

"She was, and I with her."

The merchant chuckled. "Poor fool, I told him not to mess with Januario. That Pikachu sends his puppet out to kill anyone who turns out to be trouble."

"It was not Januario who killed him."

"Then who?"

The Zangoose spun the coin in his hands, holding it in the same level as his eyes. As he stopped it, it was showing the merchant the word that was carved on the other side of the coin. Zeal. "It was me." Horace's jaws dropped down, his mouth wide open. Alex flicked his claw, sending the coin flying. Time had slowed down as he watched it; it flashed mid-air, headed straight for the Slaking's open mouth, right down his throat. The massive Pokemon gurgled, his eyes widened in horror, as his hands gripped his neck in a vain attempt to make room for the painful spiky silver coin to pass through his air pipe. The merchant struggled, watching the Zangoose stand up from his chair with a sharp smile of amusement on his face. His features were twisted in a way that made him look menacing and beautiful at the same time. His soft manners, his delicate exterior, it all made sense now. He was no mere smallfolk, but a professional assassin.

There was something in those green eyes that wasn't there before. Cunning. Power. Intent enough to fill you with dread. It was the look of a Lord, looking down upon you for your crime. Alexander had his hands behind his back, watching him choke loudly on the silver coin. "Briello was bothersome, you see. As you are. Farewell."

He turned around, exiting the room without sparing a second glance.

The Hussars that were standing outside the inn started when he got past... he tossed them four big pouches full of golden coins. "Thirty golden for each of you, for your silence, and anything in his room is yours. Don't make me hear any rumors about a Zangoose," he smiled genuinely at them. "That would truly ruin my day."

​

​
 
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*bulbagarden.net image removed*Vincent 'Vince' The Wanderer & Cassiopeia - West Wind District

As morning broke past the windows of Vincent's room in the 'secret' tavern the heroes were staying at, it didn't take long for him to get up and perform his routine morning meditation. Afterwards, he grabbed his gear, went downstairs for a quick breakfast before heading outside, taking a deep breath of the morning air, a light smile grazing his lips, though the events of the day before was still clear in his mind. His master had taught him to enjoy the little things rather than focusing on all of the grim in the world, lest you be consumed by it.

He went over what he had heard from Tsulong as he bumped into him on his way out. He'd talked to the others and they'd agreed to head for the pinnacle at 3 in the afternoon. Enough time for a good, long stroll through town and possibly some training with his new sword as well. He'd need to get accustomed to it, despite how well it already felt in his hand.

Making his way through the bustling streets of the West Wind district, Vincent made sure to take the most interesting route. He always loved visiting Skyhaven, the streets were crisscrossing back and forth between each other, and even after his many visits, he hadn't quite figured out where every street led to, so it almost felt like he was exploring it for the first time, everytime he went down a new street.

However, after turning down one particular street, he came to a stop, seeing a familiar figure. It was a Braixen who seemed to be in a hurry, carrying some kind of parcel in her arms. At her side was a sword sheathed and Vincent instantly recognized her. That's the woman from yesterday... His eyes narrowed a little and he raised a hand, pulling the slightly tattered scarf sitting snugly around his neck up over his nose as he turned down the same way she went, doing his best to stay among the larger crowds, or behind a crate or a barrel to keep out of sight, should she turn around and spot him.

Among the stands of the loud merchants crying their wares, a darker presence crept up to the Braixen. It was a cloaked man, moderately tall, clad in a jet black cloak with glowing blue runes on the lining. He walked quickly and stopped, occasionally, to check out any items on the stand that perhaps caught his eye. Or not... the man in the cloak was following the Braixen with the parcel, it was clear, as he took the same turns as her.

Narrowing his eyes as Vincent noticed the man following the Braixen, he made sure to keep behind the cloaked figure as well, following the two for a little while longer to make sure he was actually following the Braixen, but it didn't take long to convince him. What's going on...? he thought as his left hand lowered to rest on the hilt of his sword, deciding to simply tail them and see just where the Braixen was going in such a hurry. She didn't seem the type to be doing others any favors.

The Braixen continued walking through the market, often taking turns. Her hand swift as lightning, she picked up a sitrus berry from a stand without being noticed. She took a bite, then bumped into a Lilligant, throwing her to the ground.

"Watch it," the Braixen snapped, without looking at the fallen lady.

Then she took a sudden turn to the right, and her eyes met with Vincent. Fiery, ruby-like eyes. She knew she was being followed. Yet she did nothing; she only kept walking.

In the end of that street, there was a big palace. Polished, it was made of white marble that shone brightly under the sea. It was supported by thick columns with archs. Stone gargoyles stood above each column: Rhydons. It didn't take much wit to figure out that this was a traditional, old building, perhaps from Daeron's era, the first King of Altica.

Many century-old trees formed a circle around the building, as if they were some kind of fence. The trees were so tall, they were the same size with the building itself. The shadows they shed on the grass below looked most refreshing for a humid day. Some important looking Pokemon were gathered in groups under the trees, or some basked in the sun, talking excitedly with each other. From the strange garments, eccentric appearances and exotic accents, one could tell they were merchants not only from Altica - but from other places as well.

The Braixen walked right under the shadow of a tree, ignoring some sullen looks she received, then right between the columns and into the building. The cloaked man followed her right in, seemingly without caring about hiding himself from her anymore.

Vincent stopped a little away from the building, trying to judge the situation. Something fishy was definitely going on, and he wasn't even sure if the cloaked figure was with or against this Scorpius person. Nor if either would be good or bad for him. Shaking off his doubts, he proceeded, following the two figures into the building.

​
 
Elizabeth & Vincent
​


Elizabeth watched quietly as the hooded figure had made his way down the street. It seemed that he too was following someone, a Braixen to be exact. However, what he was doing or who he was following was of little concern to the Roserade. The only thing on her mind was making the hooded figure pay up for pulling the wool over her eyes. Not only had the payment of coins he had supplied Elizabeth with had been pathetically small... But they were not even real coins!

"No one... Never... EVER tries to outwit me..." Elizabeth muttered as she began to follow the hooded figure once more, following him inside the building. "I think it's time for me to show you just how much I love you right now..."

The entire building was one room, chairs and cushions laid all across the room. Almost every seat in the grand room was occupied by a rich individual; some chattered excitedly with each other, some pointed at the Dusknoir in the dais in the far end. There was a pedestal, and on it, a shard of glass. Or what appeared to be a shard of glass. A sign next to it read, 'A legendary auction for the legendary Looking Glass!'

There were Winged Hussars in every corner of the room, keeping a silent vigil over the auction house.

The Braixen that had entered the building had taken a seat next to a fat Grumpig; the cloaked man that was following her sat a couple of rows behind her.

Elizabeth took in the scenery of the room quietly. If anyone probably looked out of place at the moment, it was most likely herself and the hooded individual. The Roserade decided to stay to the back of the room for the time being. She kept her sights focused on her target as she took a seat in a few rows back. Elizabeth was not too comfortable being in a place such as this, mainly because of how many members of the higher class were around. However, because of the hooded figure, she was more than willing to put up with it just this once.

Elizabeth watched those around her, trying not to stick out worse than she probably already was. What really surprised her was how no one seemed to be drawing much attention to her target. The Roserade could not help, but wonder why.

Just about at the same time as Elizabeth had entered the gigantic room, Vincent stepped inside, his eyes resting on the two figures he was following. He gave a quick glance around, most of the Pokémon in the room sitting in the chairs set up for the auction. A few people were standing about, but most curious of all, was a Roserade near the back, only slightly in front of Vincent and to the side. She was staring intently, not at the Dusknoir further in the room, but at a particular guest. After a bit of looking back and forth, it wasn't hard to tell who she was looking at, and that just made this whole ordeal that much more confusing. I'm tailing someone already being tailed, who's tailing someone else? ... How do I keep ending up in these odd scenarios?

None the less, he moved over casually and took a stand next to the Roserade, folding his arms across his chest after pulling down the scarf to blend in more easily. After standing silently for a few moments, he gave a glance to the woman at his side, speaking quietly. "Care to tell me why -you- are after our mutual friend?"

Elizabeth glanced up at the Dewott, a small smile gracing her lips as she shifted slightly in her seat. "I don't know what you mean... Isn't the Looking Glass lovely? I would not mind having one to add to my collection, you know."

"As far as I would guess..." Vincent started, keeping his eyes on the crowd in front of him, slowly looking over the mass of people. "... I doubt the looking glass is being held by the cloaked fellow sitting eight rows ahead of us, that you've been staring so intently at."

"He is an interesting character, isn't he?" Elizabeth questioned with a shrug. "It's hard not to look at someone so oddly dressed, wouldn't you say? After all, one normally doesn't hide themselves behind a cloak such as that in broad daylight."

Vincent turned his head to give the Roserade a little glance-over, looking thoughtful for a moment before looking ahead of himself again. "I suppose I can't make you, nor should I care. He isn't my real interest either way."

Abruptly, the room went quiet. When the brawny Dusknoir floated higher on the dais, he gained everyone's attention. Then, he spoke with a low, mysterious voice that sounded like a buzz coming from the underworld. "Gentlemen - and ladies - I welcome you to the auction of the famed, yet elusive Looking Glass, an artifact of the legend that is said to have been crafted by the Fenju. But I am certain, each of you have heard a variety of tales about its many powers. So, without further ado, let us proceed. The bidding starts at ten thousand golden berries."

Many of the merchants started jumping up, shouting their offers. Even the cloaked man shouted an offer. Soon, the bidding had reached fifty thousand golden berries, and was still going. The shard on the pedestal looked like any other piece of glass, whatsoever... suddenly, a strange spraying sound was heard from the room - a purple, poisonous mist rose in the air. The Pokemon started screaming, rising from their seats to start a stampede towards the exit. The Braixen was the first to run from the room, her features strung in fury. The cloaked man was seen to be going to the opposite direction, vanishing amongst the desperate, frantic crowd

"Ooooh... that's unusual..." Elizabeth mused. She watched as the crowd began to hastily make for the exit. The hooded figure moved in the opposite direction, something that was quite unusual in the chaos as well. The Roserade stood from her seat and gave a small smile to Vincent. "Well, this has been lovely... But I think I should make sure that the Looking Glass isn't harmed... among other things. Take care, yes?"

"You as well, miss." Vincent replied, not quite caring enough about the Looking Glass to concern himself with the fact that, despite the chaos, this woman wanted to take care of it. Instead, he got up from his seat and hurried out of the building after the Braixen that had stormed out moments before.

Elizabeth began to run into the crowd, making her way towards the stage and the Looking Glass. The smile on her face grew as she was able to walk through the purple mist as if it was not even there. The Roserade climbed up onto the stage, taking hold of the Looking Glass carefully. She eyed it from various angles, before giggling lightly. She reached into a pouch on her belt, pulling out a soft cloth. Elizabeth wrapped the glass in the cloth carefully, before placing it back into the pouch she pulled the cloth out of.

"And now that that's taken care of... I think it's time to find our good friend," Elizabeth decided.
 
*bulbagarden.net image removed*Vincent 'Vince' The Wanderer & Cassiopeia– West Wind District

Meanwhile, Cassiopeia bolted out of the building, red-faced and seething. The moment that fat, greedy merchant had opened the parcel, this poisonous mist was sprayed on his face. I thought that was his payment, Alex, she thought angrily, tightening her fists as she ran past the trees of the garden and into the street. She should have known better. Alex intended to kill her with the poison as well... tricky landlubber, when I find you, I'll strangle you with my bare hands! she kicked a rock in the ground, continuing towards the docks. The last she had seen of the cloaked man was him going towards the Looking Glass. Was Alex after that silly glass?

"Scorpius! Stop!" Vincent called out, having more or less caught up with her. He was standing at the other end of the street, staring her down, and his shout had caused the bystanders to stop and stare at him, though he didn't seem like he cared.

She stopped abruptly, jerking her body around to face the Dewott, her face still seething, though a brief flash of surprise passed her red eyes. "Who are you?" she demanded to know.

"I'm someone who witnessed your duel last night." He answered, stepping closer now that he didn't have to run to catch up with her any longer. "And I am also the one who saw what you did to that man in there." He stated, keeping his left hand grasping the sheath of his sword as he came to a stop, staring the Braixen down.

Her own claws brushed the black hilt of her sword, realizing he would be bothersome. As she eyed her foe's sword, she forgot her anger and a mild smile spread on her snout. Then suddenly, she drew hers with a steel sound that rung all across the street. Inazuma flashed in the sunlight, being fully unsheathed from her scabbard. "What are you gonna do about that?" she purred, sword in hand and teeth bared.

Vincent's eyes narrowed as the woman drew her sword as he suspected she might do. He lowered his right hand to grasp the black, wooden hilt of his own sword, slowly drawing Hayate from its sheath, creating nearly no sound, as the scabbard was made out of wood. Letting go of the scabbard, he held his sword in one hand, slowly and methodically moving out to the side while holding his left hand in front of him, his muscles tensing. "I'm going to make sure you aren't going to murder another."

It was no use explaining she was tricked. She spat embers, which soon joined into a long serpent of fire around her. "Pretty self righteous of you," she said mockingly, charging forward. She brought down her sword in a vicious, two handed blow, her fire swirling along with it.

Seeing the woman charging directly at him, Vincent stepped halfly to the side, grasping his sword with his other hand as he moved it upwards at an angle, managing to deflect the powerful blow, rather than meeting it head on, the two blades clashing in a flash of sparks and steel as the Dewott spun around, going back to using one hand as he flicked his wrist in a swift, horizontal slash aimed for her midriff.

Hayate was swallowed by the fiery serpent of Cassiopeia; she raised her arm, using her sword as a wall to parry his. The blow sent a ringing pain up her arm, making her realize she wasn't facing an amateur. That only served to fuel her fury. She let out a shrill battle cry, swinging Inazuma in another reckless two-handed blow. The Dewott had to die.

Vincent managed to duck under the next blow, but he felt the air blow against his head as the sword sliced past him. I have to get my defenses up, don't underestimate her. Quickly stepping backwards, he held is sword at the ready, the Pokémon all around the two having started scattering, yelling out in fear and, in some cases, began watching the duel between the two. Vincent breathed deeply as he stared down his opponent, feeling a strong breeze starting to blow through the streets as he narrowed his eyes and went on the offensive, darting forwards as he spun around just before reaching Scorpius, swinging his sword with one hand in an upwards-down diagonal strike, emphasized by the spinning motion.

Seeing him approach, Scorpius laid a paw on the wet ground and instantly, pillars of fire shot upwards all around her. His sword sliced through all of them, without hindering the fire, and she sidestepped in an attempt to dodge his blow. The tip almost caught her chest, glimpsing Hayate flashing past her. After sidestepping, she didn't risk another blow in range of the Dewott's sword. She jerked back, her fiery serpent roaring and growing every time she took breath. The serpent and the pillars of fire joined together, closing around the Dewott.

The sky had gotten darker, as if a cloud was right above them. Scorpius looked up with an expression between a smirk and a grin, then she pointed Inazuma at the Dewott, her eyes burning with determination. "I am the best swordsman of Altica," she declared, "no random maniac will take that away from me."

As the crown of flames filled the street and slowly closed in on itself, it left Vincent with proceedingly little room to maneuvre about, his jaw clenched as he looked left and right for a possible way to escape. He glanced up, noticing the dark clouds above the flames surrounding him, his eyes narrowing. I saw this yesterday as well. He turned to the part of the fiery wall where he knew Scorpius was waiting on the other side to attack him as the flames would smash down on top of him, but he wasn't going to give her that satisfaction.

He lowered his sword down to his left side, held by his right hand, his eyes fixed on the wall of flames in front of him as he bent his knees, taking in a deep breath. Just as he let it out, he felt the wind that had become increasingly stronger blow a powerful gust through the streets of the city, and just then, he set off, dashing through the flames in front of him much faster than he had anticipated and in a mere moment, he was out on the other side, his fur singed, but otherwise, mostly unharmed. His speed kept up as he was aimed straight for Scorpius, his eyes locked with hers, intending on cutting his sword upwards in a diagonal strike once again, this time aimed for her chest.

Scorpius widened her eyes, witnessing the speed in which the Dewott had launched himself. But just then, a lightning strike descended on Inazuma from the dark cloud that was hovering above them. The sword was electrified, sparks flying everywhere to light up the darkening street. Seeing the Dewott spinning his sword, she sidestepped, slashing to her side. The swords clashed with a ringing sound, but hers sort of deflected his, getting past it. The tip slashed past the Dewott's torso, the electricity on Inazuma instantly spread in his body, blasting him off to the side. The Braixen let a victorious cry, watching Vincent as he rolled on the ground, Hayate tumbling out of his hand and onto the cobblestones beneath him, leaving him wincing in pain on the ground.

She grinned at him voraciously, still holding her intensely electrified sword, which lit the whole street with sparks. Inazuma was as beautiful as ever. "Never should've messed with me," she growled, "cross Scorpius, and you're a dead man." She stood above him, knowing he was paralyzed, then raised her sword, inteding to finish him off.

​
 
Roscoe the Leech
Skyhaven
~~~~~

In the predawn morning, the suite of rooms on the inn's top floor was quiet. The Medicham kept his back to the bedroom door, his bored eyes drifting over the front room he stood in. Three other guards were stationed inside as well - two at the door that led to the hallway and one at a window. Their employer, Bohumil Braschke, had ordered everything of his in the suite packed up for the trip back to Port Rhago after hearing of the disturbing event during the show in the square, and of King Aion and the Crimson Company's impending arrival.

Ahmed frowned slightly, head turning toward the door at his back. The Medicham's sixth sense was tingling, something that hadn't happened for a few months now. There was a reason he was head of security for Bohumil, a rich merchant. Pulling a dagger out of his belt, Ahmed turned and quietly opened the bedroom door, alert for anything amiss. Set in the opposite wall was an open window; the curtains fluttered slightly with a morning breeze. The Medicham turned his attention to the bed to one side, where Bohumil slept. Standing above the Persian was a Sceptile, a dirk in one claw and his back toward the door.

Ahmed didn't waste any more time. He darted forward, the dagger in one fist already swirling with green energy, hardly considering why the Sceptile only turned around instead of running. When the Medicham's Drain Punch was a few feet away, the Sceptile sidestepped, grabbing Ahmed's arm and redirecting the dagger. The Medicham watched, mortified, as his Drain Punch-dagger slid cleanly into Bohumil's chest. The Persian woke with a start, a gurgle leaving his throat before he went limp.

"Huh. How about that." Ahmed pulled his dagger out, turning to face the Sceptile who'd spoken. "Didn't think Bohumil's own guard would kill him." Though the intruder spoke normally, he was giving Ahmed a blank stare. He could've sworn the Sceptile's eyes flashed purple for a moment.

The Medicham quivered slightly with anger. "You—" He lunged forward, his dagger catching the Sceptile's throat. To his surprise, the Sceptile faded out of existence. A Substitute?... Before he could react, the real intruder dropped from the ceiling and struck Ahmed with a ThunderPunch. He dropped to the floor, twitching slightly as paralysis set in.

"Lucky me." The Sceptile stepped forward and twisted Ahmed's hand with the dagger. "Suicide, as well. At least, that's prob'ly what they'll think." He shoved the dagger, still in Ahmed's hand, into the Medicham's own chest and watched as the light faded from his eyes. Standing up, he stepped back over to where the Persian was breathing shallowly with eyes half-closed. Laying a claw on Bohumil's head, the Sceptile hissed, "Ye should let those on th' other side know. The Leech sent you both there." With that, he Drained the last of the Persian's energy.

The Sceptile was back out the window, which was closed again, by the time the remaining guards thought to check the bedroom. On the horizon, the top edge of the sun peeked over to illuminate the crime.

~~~~~

In his room at the secret inn, Roscoe pushed himself up from the bed of moss with a groan. "Hm…sun's been up for a bit." He slid out of the tree and rubbed his eyes; half a night's sleep didn't sit well with him this time.

Roscoe was halfway toward the door to the hallway when he halted in his tracks and turned back. Eyes narrowed, he approached the wooden desk that sat against one wall and looked down at a silken coin-pouch. The Sceptile kept the pouch at arm's length while he pulled its mouth open with one claw. Nothing. No cloud of poison or anything else. Roscoe stepped closer for a closer look. Inside the pouch sat ten golden berries.

Roscoe stared at them for a moment before rubbing his eyes again. Seeing that the pouch didn't disappear, he groaned. "Not seein' things, then." Glancing at his door, Roscoe grabbed the pouch and crouched down to where his sack sat on the floor beside the desk. In a minute, he had buried the new pouch under his other belongings. He didn't know what to think, except that it felt wrong somehow to let the other heroes see Roscoe's new wealth.

A couple minutes later, Roscoe descended the stairs to the inn's front room. With Guardian dead, he needed to check something. "Hey, miss?" The Azumarill turned as she was exiting the kitchens with a tray of food. "Which way t' the cellar, where Guardian slept?"

"You'll find the entrance that way," the innkeeper said politely, bowing her head in the appropriate direction.

"'Kay, thanks." Roscoe headed that way; soon he walked down the staircase to the cellar. He trailed a claw along the wall as he walked around the perimeter of the room. It wasn't long before Roscoe could pinpoint the direction in which he felt the Grass Plate's power. He strode toward it, stepping around barrels, shelves, and other objects. Before he got too close, though, Roscoe stopped. I know where it is, more or less, and it's still here. Why pinpoint it now?

Still, the Sceptile hesitated, eyes closed. The power he felt, oh, what he could do with it… Roscoe abruptly shook his head and pivoted, heading back for the ground floor. They could pick it up later, when it was time to leave. Maybe he'd have time to look at things around town again, like an auction.

Auction? What am I thinking?
 
Elizabeth The Deceitful​

Elizabeth began to look around for the hooded figure. She had honestly been so distracted by the Looking Glass that she had almost forgotten all about him for a moment. However, as she looked up and around, she noticed him slipping out the backdoor of the building. The Roserade smirked as she quickly began to chase after the cloaked target.

Elizabeth needed to stop the figure from getting away. Thinking quickly, the Roserade took a handfull of her Toxic Spikes and launched them overhead, splattering them on the ground in front of the figure, who tripped and stumbled upon the cold, hard ground with a cry.

"Excuse me, sir..." Elizabeth said as she moved to catch up to him. "I think we have a thing or two to discuss, yes?"

"N-no! Leave me alone," the cloaked man screeched, trying to get up and run. He stumbled and fell again. "I have done nothing," he said, a bit calmer, after composing himself. The sun fell beneath his hood, revealing dirty, white fur and a grimace of pain.

Elizabeth sighed. "I think you are quite confused..." She made her way over towards the man. Her usual smile and pleasant look being replaced by a quite annoyed frown. She stood ready, preparing more Toxic Spikes. "Quite frankly, I'm finding myself a bit tired of your antics..."

"Help! Guards!" he shouted, raising his hand, looking past the Roserade, where two Hussars were fussing over the poisonous mist that leaked off the building. "Guards!" Then, he coughed, spasming violently. The poison from the Toxic Spikes he had stepped on was slipping into effect.

"What's the matter? When faced with actual confrontation do you really end up turning into a little coward?" Elizabeth asked, clearly not amused or convinced with the man's panic. "Or are you still trying to trick me? I fell for your tricks twice. It won't happen a third time."

The cloaked man let out a choking sound, ceasing to struggle to get up. He laid there on the ground, motionless, dead. Perhaps he was too old and weak to manage the suffering the strong poison brought him. Just as he had died, two shrill voices cracked the air.

"You! Murderer!" it was the two Archeops Hussars. Having seen what just went on, they flew towards her intending to arrest her.

"What...? But... who?!" Elizabeth was now more curious than ever. Against her better judgement, the Roserade took hold of the man's cloak, lowering it to reveal just who was beneath it. It was an old Vigoroth, fur pale and thick with sweat. He had closed his eyes upon death.

But something else caught her eyes - someone was standing on the lowest branch of one of those massive trees in the auction house's garden. It was a Zangoose, leaning against the trunk and watching her with a wicked, amused smile. His lips formed two words, thank you, as he bowed slightly, perhaps in a mocking gesture. Meanwhile, the Hussars had called for help, screaming that they'd found the perpetrator.

Elizabeth said nothing as she turned her glare on the Zangoose. It was becoming increasingly hard for her not to lose her temper at this point. As much as she wanted to confront him here and now, doing so with all this commotion going on would not be possible. Cursing under her breath, Elizabeth unleased a blinding Flash in the area, before taking off to try and shake her pursuers.
 
Adelaide Sinclair
​
Auction House​
Alex sauntered towards the pale, white building with thick, tree-like columns, his Lady Adelaide by his side. A few of the ever important-looking people in the yard turned to look at the Ninetales, some admiringly, some blankly, and still others with contempt.

"So, a looking glass," Adelaide mentioned absentmindedly as they strolled along. Ignoring the looks others gave her as they approached the grand building, her attention once again was solely on her companion. There was nobody here of any particular interest to talk with and she had to admit, it had been a while since she bought something both expensive and completely frivolous. Perhaps this looking glass that everyone was so enamored with would fill that void and further reinforce her status in the minds of others.

It was a gorgeous day. The kind she associated in her mind with mild, spring afternoons spent in her family gardens with grandmother. Alex was even so kind as not to wear that dreadful cloak he so loved today. "Why is everyone so riled up about this piece of glass?" She looked over and asked Alex with a mild tone that betrayed nothing. Trying not to reveal how much interest she actually had in the object; she didn't want Alex to get the wrong idea and try to steal it for her. Of course, she fully intended to leave here with it, but she wanted to make a scene. It was the way of a Lady after all, to flaunt her wealth and buy obscenely expensive things to establish your position above others. It was all for show, but it didn't hurt that it was also fun.

The stoic Zangoose looked past the crowd of rich people, to the pedestal, where the glass was placed. "They say the Looking Glass grants truth to the eyes that peer through it," he said, interest hinted subtly in his voice. "But I believe it is some sort of beacon."

"Sounds like a bunch of hokum if you ask me," she replied and glanced around the room for the first time as she neared her seat. Addy had payed a sizable fee beforehand to procure a private balcony seat in the auction hall for herself and Alex. Looking down on the others, as was her norm, she could see all the goings on of the pre-auction proceedings. People mingled and took notes of the auction lot, floating about the room with much anticipation. Adelaide, of course, knew she would not jump into the auction fray right away. She would wait and once the price had risen to a sizable and ridiculous cost, she would bid. Preferably, right before it was sold off to the current highest bidder.

"Well, if anything," she continued, as she sat and smoothed out her tails with a gentle flex, "It will make a splendid engagement gift for my prince. I dare say he will be delighted." A wide smile spread across her muzzle. One of contentment and regality.

Alex, standing behind the Ninetales, ran his claws through his hair thoughtfully, even doubtful at his Lady's words, taking a good look at the Looking Glass. His head often turned to the crowd of aristocrats and merchants, too, as if in search for somebody. "Do you think Prince Gale would cherish such a gift, my Duchess? Out of courtesy, perhaps... but then again, I may be speaking out of context..." They did not really know the Prince of Indrasil. They had seen him in a couple of feasts where Lords and Ladies of both Indrasil and Ragho joined company, but no more contact was allowed between them.

"What ever do you mean, Alexander?" She turned and looked at him suddenly, her gaze intense but curious of his words. Her face actually looked a bit sad in that moment, no, worried. All this time, she had thought the looking glass a splendid engagement gift, one that would be a valuable treasure to present upon their next meeting.

"I… I thought it rare and valuable, with interesting lore. Would it not make a good gift for a future King? Just because I think its powers a lie, doesn't mean the story of granting truth is any less fascinating for a ruler." She sighed and looked back at the crowd, her eyes catching sight of a man in a cloak. Not just any cloak, Alex's cloak.

"Quiet," Alex said imperatively, throwing worried glances at businessmen nearby. "Aion is our King, my Duchess. To speak of other Kings is treason in the wrong ears." King Aion was old, though. One day, he would die, and without heir as he is, his seat on the throne of Hellcrown would remain vacant. It would be given to another man, the most powerful in Altica. Lady Adelaide hoped that other man was her Prince Gale... and Alex did not doubt that. With Indrasil and Ragho joined in a bond such as this, Prince Gale was the best candidate for the throne. But that had best be left unsaid. Should word come out of this union, that would put both of them in danger. Aion was known to be jealous and wary of others gaining power in the Kingdom of Altica.

Addy quieted herself with a resentful huff. She did not like being told what to do, by anyone, especially her servants. It was impossible for herself to be too mad at Alexander, because she knew he was right. Losing herself in the moment, she had allowed herself to daydream and imagine herself and the Prince in a higher station than was their place…for now.

"Fine, I will be quiet for now. But just remember Alex," she whispered to him under hushed breath with a bit of an edge. "Prince Gale is far too handsome, charming and powerful to be held down for long. I am quite certain my prince will be a king. In my eyes, he already is. You will see." Feeling quite confident in her words, she turned her eyes back to the ground below, her posture regal and proud once more.

"A king," Alex muttered flatly, repeating the word. "Absolutely."

"And once you have apologized to me for your rude behavior, would you be so kind as to tell me why that man down there is wearing your cloak?" She gestured with an open paw to the aforementioned man in the crowd.

The Zangoose shrugged his bulky shoulders, a dangerous smile spreading on his face. "Who knows? Mayhaps I lost it and they found it. Now, my Duchess, brace yourself for your flight. It will be brief and painless, I assure you."

"Flight? Alexander, now is not the time for your games or levity. Pay attention to the auction and prepare my purse. I have a feeling we will be needing to pay quite the pretty berry for this eye glass."

Suddenly, a loud and dreadful hiss eminated from below. Screams broke out and people in the room started moving in a panic. From their balcony, Alex and Lady Addy could see a purple, poisonous gas rising to the ceiling. Everyone hurried to the exit, except Alex, who grabbed his chair and hurled it at the window behind them, shattering it to pieces. He made sure to stand in front of Lady Addy, to prevent any glass from hitting her.

Turning around, he gave his Lady one of his wicked smiles. "Please, my Duchess, leap to your safety. I would hate to see you hurt by my own machinations," he said, lightly scratching her side as he walked past her. "I shall handle this with the boldest confidence and utmost dexterity," he declared. Then he ran towards the edge of the balcony and leapt off, right into the purple fog.

"Just once I would love to have a normal day…" she called for Alex after he leapt into the fog, her view of him vanishing in an instant. This was not a plan that Addy had been aware of. Yes, she knew that Alex schemed and handled things for her benefit all the time, that was his job after all; but if she was going to be present, he would usually inform her. Did he have to do this now of all times and places? With a sigh, she rose from her seat and calmly walked to the broken window, her paws stepping daintily around pieces of glass scattered about the balcony carpeting.

Looking down at her inevitable leap that awaited her, she froze and panicked for the slightest second. "If I sprain my paw, Alex, it will be on your head." Grumbling and with held breath, she leapt down with as much grace as she could muster, but still staggering and rolling into the landing at the end. The momentum was too great and she plowed into a nearby official who had come to help on the scene.

"Oh, my apologies, sir!" She curtsied and did her best to maintain face. He didn't say a word, his gruff exterior hard even for a Graveler. Walking away, trying her best not to chastise the man for his lack of manners or respect, she looked behind her at the scene that was unfolding. What exactly had Alex been doing? Better yet, what was he doing now? In the end, it served little purpose for her to sit around and wait there. He always turned up one way or the other.

Going against the flow of traffic, she began the trek back to her pleasure cruiser that she rented for her stay here. It was a modest ship by her standards, not as luxurious or large as the kinds she saw in the ports back home, but it sufficed. That greedy little Mudkip at the docks had insisted this was his best boat, but she didn't think so. It hardly mattered, it was only temporary. That and it was nice to have a backup plan when not being hosted by merchants in their villas.

Her thoughts were broken by the clanging of steel and boisterous words just up ahead. Turning the corner, she spied a heated battle between what looked like a Dewott and Braixen. Whatever was going on, it looked serious enough. The two seemed to be going at each other relentlessly. Addy thought the swords were a quaint touch. Finding a warm patch of grass on the sidelines, she sat and watched the two battle with great interest. It was good entertainment, nice, high stakes. Was it a lovers' quarrel? Adelaide did hope so, in her mind that was the story, it made it much more intriguing.

In a swift stroke, it looked as if the Braixen quickly gained the upper hand. The Dewott surely appeared to be done for. Addy yawned and watched on, not planning to interrupt in the least bit. This was not her problem, and she didn't want to be on the end of that sword herself. In her heart, she did hope somebody would come along and stop these two before a death occurred. It would be a shame for them to rope off access to her boat for an investigation.
​
 
Tsulong

​
The massive Arcanine strode through the morning streets of Skyhaven, his head held high and alert. But there wasn't anyone to be alert of. The people had started to leave the city by the hundreds, either booking passage to Argos or to Port Ragho. It was well known now, King Aion was marching to the city. The denizens of the Kingdom of Altica were well aware of a King's march. The wise ones had run to find shelter in another city, until the storm passed, thus leaving the streets near deserted. And whoever met his fiery red gaze quickly turned away, fearful to face such a big Pokemon. Ser Tsulong was looking to harm no one, though. He meant to spend the hours of the morning bracing himself for the scaling of the Pinnacle. And he always braced himself with a good drink.

His feet brought him in front of an inn with a sign above the entrance, swaying with the wind. The Blue Tauros, it read. Tsulong squeezed himself through the door, hearing raucous from inside. He walked into people drinking and singing with all their heart, hanging from the bars like dead men. There was a company of Tauros sitting on a patch of hay, having great frowns on their faces. And then there was one Pokemon who was staring intently at them, a Heliolisk that was leaning against the bar. Once Tsulong entered, blocking the sun that was coming from the door, some heads turned and conversations died down.

He strode to the bar with heavy steps, placing his front feet upon it. "Flame Quiver," he grumbled at the bartender, a Duosion with dirtied, dark green gel. The conversations in the tavern were enlivened once he made his order, though they were a bit quieter.

"I could serve you water with grog and call it a Flame Quiver," the Duosion joked with a groggy, friendly smile. "But I'd rather tell you we've none of that fancy stuff here."

"Rum, then," Tsulong.

"No rum here either, friend," the bartender said.

"What manner of tavern are you running?" Tsulong said loudly, making the Duosion cower for fear of making him angry. Then, the Duosion gestured to the Tauros, who were now staring at Tsulong, their great frowns still about their faces.

"The Tauros claim all the rum."

"Wine," Tsulong said, and was at last served a bowl. It was as sour as it smelled, and he almost retched it back up. "Wenches," he cursed quietly.

"Bothersome bunch," said another voice. It was the Heliosk that was eyeing the Tauros before; he had approached Tsulong. "They're real trouble, where I come from. Always stealing our crops and violating our Miltanks!"

Tsulong examined the Heliosk. His accent betrayed his origins; this was no resident of the Uplands of Altica. He was from Shamar, the desert. And judging by his dirty legs and remark about crops and Miltanks, Tsulong knew he was a farmer of the desert, of the sort who herded Mareep through the sands and kept domesticated Miltanks in their secluded gardens to yield them milk when they had need of it. Looking back at the bunch of Tauros, Tsulong could tell they were Pokemon up to no good. His fiery gaze met with a black, stubborn one.

"You come from Shamar, do you not?" Tsulong said to the Heliosk, seeing fire in his eyes. "You seek revenge," the Arcanine deduced, somewhat amused.

The Heliosk nodded positively, then threw him an examining look. "You're bright, Arcanine. I am Ivan, a proud farmer."

Tsulong drank a little from his bowl of wine. "You speak with Ser Tsulong."

"Ser? You're a knight?" the Heliosk said, a bit of wonder and reluctance in his tone. He seemed wary out of a sudden.

"I am," Tsulong confirmed, then looked at him. "Is there a problem?"

Ivan hurried to clear up, "no, no, 'course not," he chuckled, although his laugh was a bit biased. His face darkened, then. "Knights are rare in Shamar is all." The Heliosk turned his head to stare back at the Tauros. "Excuse me, Tsulong, I have some open tabs with these Tauros that I mean to suspend today."

As the Heliosk left the shop, the bunch of Tauros who were staring back at him got up as well and exited the shop. Tsulong took his pouch within his teeth, placing it upon the bar and managing to pull out a silver coin. His bowl of wine was left unfinished as he went out of the tavern. The autumn wind raced through his fur as he stood there, tracing the thick scent of the Tauros. Sure enough, he saw them down the street, having formed a half circle and attacking the Heliosk, who snapped lightnings at them to ward them off.

The massive Arcanine became a blur as he shot himself in an ExtremeSpeed, bashing the first Tauros in the group from behind. As he stirred, he let out a great roar and his breath became fiery, to engulf his jaws which closed around a Tauros's back, his heavy front feet holding the Pokemon down, immobilizing it. The Tauros' around him moaned in fury, shifting from attacking the Heliosk to attacking him. One tried to ram him, but he swirled his massive body in an Iron Tail that sent the Tauros flying. The other Tauros that was coming straight at him was hit by a lightning produced by the Heliosk's black hand.

"Filthy sacks of Grimer waste!" Ivan snarled.

Tsulong turned to the last Tauros standing stubbornly. The Arcanine went in for a Take Down and his foe was quickly overwhelmed. The impact cracked a sound of bones breaking. The Tauros staggered, dazed, then fell; he stirred a bit, as if to rise, then fell silent. His horns had drawn a blood line through the fur of Tsulong's head, but he seemed not to notice at first. Having obliterated every Tauros, he sat on his rear, licked his hand and brought it on his spinning head, to wipe his fur clean of any blood.

"I hope you're unhurt," he told the Heliosk, who was staring at him. "You crossed the desert just to get revenge on them?"

"That I did," Ivan said, looking at the bloody mess the Arcanine had made, "but it looks like you snatched that pleasure out of my hands."

"Don't be a fool. They would've killed you."

The Heliosk sighed, looking down. He was younger than Tsulong, even. "You're right," he said.

Then Tsulong was hit by his earlier words. "Hold... you mean to tell me that you reached Skyhaven, coming from Shamar?" he asked, incredulous. Between Skyhaven and the desert, there was an enormous cliff that was impossible to be climbed. The hard rock made it impossible to dig through, too. There was no convenient route between Skyhaven and Shamar, not even the sky - the often sandstorms and thunderstorms that ravaged the area made flight extremely dangerous.

Ivan nodded, confirming, glancing around as if to make sure no one was hearing. "Let's get outta here, 'fore those winged bastards arrive."

Once they were at a safe distance, the Heliosk spoke up. "Listen, man, I'm not supposed to speak of this. You helped me, though, and I appreciate that - kindness is rare, especially in knights." Tsulong nodded in agreement. "I can trust you with this secret. There is another route to Shamar from Skyhaven, other than the sea."

Tsulong was suddenly interested. He nodded, as to prod him to continue. "There are tunnels, far beneath Skyhaven's sewer system. They lead straight to the desert, but finding them won't be an easy matter."

The Arcanine thought about it, then conceded, thanking the farmer. Ivan could prove a great asset, if they decided to travel through the desert, as he seemed to know his way around.

A while later, he found himself in the deserted Court of Winds, facing the Pinnacle. The pale castle rose high above the clouds, imposing and overwhelming as always. That was where the Sky Plate was held... and today was the day the heroes would retrieve it. The noon had come, so Tsulong expected his comrades to start arriving soon.
 
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Telmund glanced to his mentor as he adjusted his bracers in agitation. A mixture of excitement and dread flowed freely in his mind – first of all, no-one had entered the pinnacle in a century. On the other hand; no-one had entered the Pinnacle in a century! There could be anything in there – all manner of dangerous creatures, villains, murderers, aliens-!

The Metang stopped himself, taking in a calming breath. The pinnacle was under protection. It had to be safe. If anything, it was the safest place in Skyhaven. And… out. Fine. Reasonable. Of course, he still had a lot more reasonable worries – with the King on his way to do Arceus-knows-what, all the Hero and Plate business and on top of it all the general complete uprooting of his life, Telmund the Learned was Telmund the Worried. He paced back and forth, bouncing his levitation slightly to compensate for his lack of legs. He was nervous enough normally; by all means, he should have the right to be a blabbering wreck on the floor right now.

Telmund opened his eyes, looking to his teacher again – a Gardevoir by the name of Hender the Seven Eyes – and spoke, his voice thoroughly (you guessed it) worried.

"Why do we have to do this, Hender? You know I don't like the aristocracy."

Hender sighed, "No-one likes the aristocracy, Tel. Besides; I'm hoping our dealings will be primarily with the Heroes, rather than with the aristocrats who granted them passage."

"But why should we trust the heroes any more than the aristocrats?"

"Don't compare them to the aristocrats, Telmund. No-one deserves that."

Tel looked down, smiling slightly, "Yeah, sorry, that was out of line…"

"Anyhow, Durand was very specific. At the Court of Winds, we're to meet an Arcanine named Tsulong."

"An Arcanine?" Tel recoiled, well aware of his weakness to fire types.

"Now now, Tel. I trust Durand with my life, and he trusts the Arcanine with his. We'll be with allies – the few of them that are left in this damned worl- uh, anyway…" Hender stopped himself, too late, to keep from furthering his student's agitation. "If you're ready, we should leave. The time approache-ow…" The old Gardevoir twirled his quarterstaff in a hand as he got up, stopping it suddenly with a pop from his elbow. He sent a quick Heal Pulse to the joint, which he gave a tentative flick. He looked to Tel and rolled his eyes in jest, though the Metang could see the sadness behind them. His master was old, older than anyone else he knew – though that didn't stop The Seven Eyes from trying.

"Ready when you are." Telmund told him.

- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~-​

Telmund had packed fairly little. He could eat pretty much anything, and the rocks that he generally consumed were understandably fairly available. Food in general wasn't a worry for him, thankfully – another worry was hardly something he needed. He'd taken some of his favourite books and scrolls with him, but other than that, it was just him, his scroll case and his bracers. It surprised him – with all the attachment he had to his home, in truth there was little to tie him down there, other than Hender or the library. Neither would fit in his scroll case. To his shame, he had tried.

The Pinnacle stretched high above the Court of Winds, though to be fair, the Pinnacle stretched high over pretty much anything. It was a strange experience for the two to be there. On previous visits, the Court had usually been decently populated by at least a few people. Arriving there, they found the place deserted. Well, deserted besides the one person. Despite the warm noon sunlight, Tel couldn't help but feel a little cold with anticipation. Telmund and Hender approached slowly, the former taking short, cautious shuffles of levitation forwards every half-second or so. Hender's eyes were suspicious, darting at the slightly ominous surroundings. Soon, though, as he came closer and got a better look at the Arcanine before him, his face broke into a warm smile and his body relaxed, leaning slightly on his quarterstaff.

"Tsulong! How nice to finally meet you in person."

On his mentor's greeting, Tel glanced up to look at Tsulong. Unfortunately, it didn't take long for him to start struggling to rest his eyes on anything but his own claws. Not one to be intentionally impolite, though, he gave a short, timid wave and a "Hello" that probably only he heard.

Tel sighed inwardly, Nice one, Tel. Really nailed that one.
 
Roscoe
Skyhaven
~~~~~

After a somewhat hefty breakfast - they had until the afternoon to meet up for the hike, after all - Roscoe changed his mind and began packing up what he had. That also meant buying a travel-pack and some food from the innkeeper, for the road, and sneaking back down to the cellar. The Sceptile made sure he hadn't been followed before pulling the Grass Plate out of its hiding place. Two feet tall, one-and-a-half feet wide. Roscoe had to move the rest of the pack's contents around in order to fit the Plate inside his pack.

"Oof. Thing's heavy," Roscoe muttered, pack on his back as he walked back up the stairs to the ground floor. Not gonna be speedin' around much, that's for sure. Thankfully, the Azumarill didn't ask Roscoe any questions as he headed for the front door. He was sure the size of his pack would make him stand out on the streets.

~~~~~

Roscoe needn't have worried so much. There were enough Pokemon on the streets with large packs and the like that he could have been any one of them. Honestly, Roscoe didn't pay much attention to where he walked; he was busy enough with listening to the conversations of passersby. Much of the talk concerned the Zeal strikes and the King's march. No doubt he's comin' for the Sky Plate, Roscoe thought to himself. There could have been other reasons, sure, but why march on Skyhaven and ignore one of the Plates?

Throughout the morning, as he wandered the streets, Roscoe asked a few questions here and there concerning Reginard. 'Have you seen an Alakazam around? About yea high, carries a staff.' 'Heard o' the Chronicler of Tales? Yeah? Happen t' know where he is?' Nothing. There were no leads that Roscoe could follow, which was understandable since Reginard had disappeared the night before and could teleport. Roscoe had nothing better to do, though.

When noon rolled around, he sighed and shook his head before turning his feet toward the Court of Winds. He'll prob'ly find us later, anyway, if he wants to. Or we may never hear from him again. Part of Roscoe's mind was a little relieved; he hadn't quite forgotten Reginard stopping him back in Duskwood. Or his extended talking on the way to Skyhaven.

Unlike the rest of Skyhaven, the Court of Winds seemed content to remain deserted. Well, mostly deserted. Roscoe stopped at the edge of the square and stretched his arms and legs briefly, giving himself time to observe the few Pokemon that were already here. There was Tsulong, who was standing there with a Gardevoir and a Metang. His eyes lingered on the Gardevoir a moment longer, narrowed. "Better not be Manly…"

Shrugging slightly to readjust a strap on his pack, Roscoe approached the trio of Pokemon, wary of the Gardevoir at first. As he got closer, the Sceptile relaxed and put on a smile; it wasn't Manley after all. "Hey, Tsulong," Roscoe greeted, coming up beside the Arcanine. "Couple new friends?"
 
Vash the Bullet and Tsulong

[PokeCommunity.com] The Age of Heroes [IC]

To the The Pinnacle
​

Tsulong looked up to the Metang and the Gardevoir that approached. They were almost alone in the Court of Winds, save for the heroes who were joining them.

"Tsulong! How nice to finally meet you in person," the Gardevoir spoke to him.

"Ahh, and you must be Hender," Tsulong said, nodding slightly, his gaze falling onto the Metang, who seemed withdrawn. Roscoe's voice made him turn around, to face the Sceptile as he approached.

"Hey, Tsulong," the Leech greeted, standing besides him. "Couple new friends?"

"Aye, friends of Grandfather, and therefore friends of ours." Grandfather was the nickname Tsulong had given Elder Durand, since it was he who had raised him.

Looking at the two of them, teacher and student, Tsulong busted a broad smile. "I trust you will aid us in our quest... we certainly lack a hero of the steel-type mastery."

"The others are late," Faolan said suddenly and curtly, as always. The Mienshao had his hands behind his back, his head raised high, watching the Pinnacle. "My punctuality is guaranteed at all times, why should theirs be not?"

The Arcanine shook his head, watching Vash the Bullet approaching them from the Pinnacle.

The Crobat decended from his steady glide, landing on his usual perch within the Court of Winds. His attention was immediately drawn to the two unfamiliar psychic types. "Preperations have been made for your arrival...though may I ask who these newcomers are?" He pointed directly at the Gardevoir and Metang.

"Hender and Telmund," Tsulong said, "they'll be coming with us. Shall we be off?"

The Bullet nodded, then looked to the Pinnacle. "I suggest we make haste. The path to the Pinnacle is narrow on foot. I will guide you there from the air." Vash's wings were stiff as he flew. It was the first time in years he would allow anyone to enter the giant castle.

Tsulong smirked, looked at the path that led to the mountain where the castle of the Pinnacle was built on. "The mountain, we need to scale, before we reach the Pinnacle," he announced to everyone, although some were lucky. Telmund could float.

Tsulong went in first, his head held high so he could keep Vash within his sight. There was nothing in the end of the path but rock - and a rocky, narrow and steep path that was going to take them up. The Arcanine disliked the prospect of scaling a slithery path with unstable footing that required immense attention from a four legged creature. It would be treacherous to tread on rock that was washed with rain the night before; the path could send any of them to their deaths. Tsulong only gritted his teeth, forcing his paws upon the rock and clinging to it with desperate power.

"Was it so hard to have an actual path made?" Faolan was heard from behind as they balanced their steps on the narrow path. "Not that it is too much of an inconvenience. Just a thought of mine."

"Nay. Why should they?" Tsulong shouted, so he could be heard. "The rock is simply another obstacle to hinder ambitious intruders."

He risked a glance down, noticing they were starting to put a good distance between them and the ground. After a while of scaling, he was panting from his effort to keep up with the narrow path that was circling around the Pinnacle. "I would seriously rather be in a battlefield right now," Tsulong muttered under his quickened breath, placing his paw carefully on the edge of the path. He almost slipped right there. In a battlefield, he could not merely slip. There, he had stable footing and the ability to roast black anything in front and in his wake. The rock was toying with his paws, and it was already black and moist from the rain.

The wind was getting fiercer the higher they went. Tsulong's mane was racing with it, and it almost seemed as if he was flying. For a moment, he wondered how it would be, to soar the skies... then he decided he'd rather not find out and clutched tighter on the rock.

"Tis a pity Reginard's not with us," the Mienshao almost groaned, "elsewise we would have a smooth teleport up the Pinnacle."

Hearing this, even through the wind, Vash lowered his altitude just enough to be auidible to the heroes. "That is not possible," the bat called to the grounded pokemon below. "The Pinnacle is enchanted with a spell that prevents such ease of access to its walls." Looking down, the Mienshao looked to be even more displeased.

At long last, they reached the top. The great white marble castle rose sky-high, its towers piercing the clouds. The massive arcs that surrounded it seemed to heave, move with the wind as it blew betwixt them. Are those really moving? Tsulong had the faintest clue that the stony arcs that formed a circle around the Pinnacle moved ever so slightly, with no hint of sound whatsoever. Were they indeed moving, if they ever collapsed upon Skyhaven, that would be the end of a great and ancient city.

Ahead of them was the castle's gates. Tsulong approached warily, watching Vash at the same time. "Go on, open them."

Vash remained silent but nonetheless complied. Lifting his four wings and releasing a powerful flap, all at once a gale formed that seemed to pry at the castle gates. Vash's body pulsating with energy flaps once more and the doors swing open at a speed that seemed impossible for a gate of such size. "I'll lead the way, per usual." Taking lead once more, he flapped down the dimly illuminated corridors. He remedied that by sweeping a Heat Wave down the passage, lighting countless candles in sequence.

The candles floated mid-dair, shedding a dim light across a long room. The floor was golden marble, the walls white. Thick columns with sculptures of Archeops were on either side of Tsulong as he walked and walked, towards what seemed to be a huge screen, at least twenty time his size. A screen? What is it used for? Tsulong thought in wonder. Then, he abstracted his eyes from the black, empty screen to his sides.

There were two doors, one on the left and one on the right.

The right door of the room was open, light coming from inside.

The group stopped abruptly, just as Vash had stopped moving forward. "That's...peculiar." His eyes narrowed and then squinted into door to his right. A dim light emanating from the center of its otherwise jet-black interior. "That door...has never been open before. It's always been locked from the very first day I've served in this castle." He looked to the others, then back towards the foreign passage. "Our path that takes us to the plate is to the left...However, I don't know what to make of this door suddenly open. Now even, of all times."

Tsulong stared at the door like a hound, his ears perked up for any sound that might catch his attention. Indeed, there was a strange, erratic yet distant sound coming from there. He could tell that it was coming from below, and the echo made the sound travel to his ears from a long way down. He looked at the other heroes. "Someone is down there," he said solidly.

"That is none of our concern," Faolan stated, headed for the left door. "We're here for the Plate. Let Vash deal with this."

"Gentlemen," another voice said suddenly, making Tsulong jump. It was Pierce, who had appeared out of nowhere, as per usual. On his great teeth, the candles' fires were reflected. "We will require Vash's help in retrieving the Plate. And since the Caretaker cannot possibly be in two places at once... some of us must investigate in his stead." He gestured towards the door, where the ominous sounds were coming from. Tsulong thought Pierce didn't sound happy at all.

"Let us be over and done with this farce," Tsulong muttered and headed for the right door, where the sounds were coming from. "Who's with me?"

Vash sighed and looked toward the left door. "There wouldn't be any point in me going to investigate if the other party could not access the Plate. The Mienshao and I will take the flight upward. The rest of you can take that path that you desire. Take heed in the fact that I don't know what's down there."
 
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Januario
​

Januario walked inside his palace's quarters. There was Alysanne sitting gracefully on the huge feather bed. The courtesan was as beautiful as ever, having put on every jewel she had; red ruby earrings to match her eyes, a golden belt with emeralds and sapphires, golden braces on her thin wrists.

Now here is a beautiful Mienshao, if I have ever seen one, Januario thought, stopping on his tracks, transfixed, with a wan smile on his face. It wasn't in his character to be sad, but he was. It was a strange, alien feeling to him. Sadness he hadn't felt in years. This would most probably be their last meeting in perhaps a long time.

Alysanne hadn't noticed him standing there. She was looking into the mirror Pierce had given her, brushing her shiny, elegant fur of her head.

"My lady," the little Pikachu said suddenly. He jumped on the bed next to her, noticing her face as she looked in the mirror. She was sad, too.

"Am I beautiful, my Prince? Tell me I am beautiful."

"You are the most beautiful of all women I have ever seen," Januario said truthfully. He didn't like complimenting his courtesan, as his place was to just sit back and let her do her business, not comfort her. But throughout the years he had spent with her, the effort it had taken from him to find and hire her, Alysanne felt more than just a possession of his. She was a treasure.

The Mienshao's face twisted in fury and pain, her features changing from beautiful to menacing. She hurled the mirror against the wall. The frame cracked, but the mirror itself... not. "Break, you vile thing," she hissed at it, then raised her arms to cover her face. A soft sob shook her delicate shoulders.

Sigmund had warned Januario of the properties of that mirror. It wasn't just any mirror. It showed you what you wanted to see; and after Faolan's rejection of her, Januario could understand how the courtesan would think. She'd think she wasn't pretty enough. And that's exactly what the mirror showed her. Dammit, Pierce, he cursed at the ghost, the Gengar's cunning smile coming to mind, you REALLY had to mess with her, hadn't you? That was Pierce, alright. Those passive aggressive tricks and pranks of his could reduce one to tears. And it wasn't only Alysanne... it was him, as well.

I am losing her to Faolan, Januario realized, and he almost laughed grimly at his luck. It was to be expected. Faolan was a strong Pokemon, perhaps one of the most dangerous of the Realm, good looking and tall. And what was he? A stumpy little Pikachu who looked like a five year old; his only asset was his wit and ability to rub two golden coins and give birth to a third one. He was accomplished, having managed to bend every merchant in Altica under his rule as the Trade Prince, he was disgustingly rich, alright. That's what Alysanne was after thus far. His riches, and his title. And he was about to lose both. Who remained, then? Faolan... and her love for him.

He put his paw on her arm, rubbing it gently. This time, he wouldn't jump on her lap. He couldn't help her anyhow; nor did he think she wanted his help. "Sweetheart," he said mildly, "your vault is full of gold. Get someone to take it out tonight."

She peeked through her hands, looking so young and fragile. Her red eyes were mixed with confusion, frustration and sadness.

"You... might not get a second chance," Januario forced himself to say.

"Why is that?" she demanded to know. A tear dropped when she put down her arms.

Januario couldn't bring himself to tell her. He knew the day would come when he would regret bonding with a courtesan in such way. "Just take it away," the Trade Prince commanded, without looking at her. "And look for Faolan for protection. Don't count on Sigmund. You know how he hates you. When... I won't be around, he'll kill you without second thought."

"What talk is this, my Prince?" Alysanne said softly. She grabbed and lifted him up to her eyes... I love it when she does this, Januario thought to himself, shutting his eyes, almost better than the jingling sound of gold. I'll miss you so, Alysanne. Maybe fate will bring us together once more...

"Do as I say," he said, pushing away any thought of telling her everything. About the impending war, about his Plan B... about the terrible conspiracy and betrayal that was carefully plotted in the shadows. About that Charizard, Ser Raleigh, about the cloaked man, the Blackluster. About Zeal. The brewing storm was more threatening than that the clouds brought. He just wished he and Alysanne would meet again...
 
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Hender returned the nod the Arcanine gave him, nodding several more times at the others arriving. Tel, for the most part, continued to stare intently at his hands. It relieved him that they were being referred to as 'friends' – Arceus knows how he would have felt with a less welcome greeting. The broad smile was admittedly a little disconcerting, but that was his fault, he knew, not Tsulong's. It was simply his nerves getting to him, and his logical side told him that the smile was genuine.

"I trust you will aid us in our quest..." Tsulong said, "we certainly lack a hero of the steel-type mastery."

"Oh! I'm a hero of the steel-type mastery." Tel said excitedly, brightening up for a moment. Hender swiftly prodded Tel in the side with his quarterstaff.

"He knows," He whispered, "That's why he said it."

"Ah," Tel whispered back a little disappointedly, looking down, "that makes a lot of sense, now that I think about it…"

The Gardevoir cleared his throat, then spoke up, "We will assist you in any way we can."

Shortly after Faolan's arrival, the two recognised Vash the Bullet, caretaker of the Pinnacle, descending towards them. The Crobat seemed a little cautious with them, but considering the importance of the Sky Plate, it seemed reasonable enough to be. Tsulong introduced them, but Hender thought it best to be a little more formal and polite, giving a short bow, after which Telmund quickly followed up with his own.

"Hender the Seven Eyes, at your disposal. This is my student…" Hender motioned to Tel, giving him an encouraging smile.

"Uh- Telmund the Learned. Or, uh, just Tel… erm… also at your disposal…?"

The heroes seemed to be quite intent on scaling the mountain leading to the Pinnacle, which thankfully meant that there wasn't as much time as there could otherwise have been to focus on Telmund's pitiful social skills. It may seem at first that Tel would be well-fitted to the climb: lucky in that he could float using magnetism. Such… wasn't exactly the case. He also had Hender.

"Don't you think… this is a little tiring… Hender?" Tel panted at his mentor. The Gardevoir in question was perched comfortably, cross-legged, directly on top of Telmund's head. He had formed a small psychic umbrella above himself at the end of his quarterstaff, currently enjoying the surrounding scenery of the climb. The Seven Eyes had reasoned that he was far too old and fragile to make the rocky climb himself, and he'd be damned if he missed out an opportunity to visit the Pinnacle after all these decades. He glanced down at his student with an amused smile, smugness almost radiating from him.

"Oh, don't worry about me, Tel – I'm not tired at all. Carry on."

The Metang let out a metallic groan, grumbling incoherently to himself.

"Just- move your legs, I can't see."

Hender chuckled, "Oh, no, I'm sure you can't."

Telmund sighed, resigned to his fate. There was occasional conversation, but mostly silence on the journey up the mountain. The Pinnacle was truly a masterpiece of architecture, both inside and out. Delicate sculptures, levitating candles and glistening marble made Tel's eyes widen in amazement. And then… there was the open door.

Vash stopped, "That's… peculiar."

Telmund winced, "How reassuring."

The open door seemed to be a dilemma – both Telmund and Hender found it very disconcerting. If the Pinnacle had indeed been breached, then that proved to be a very serious problem, considering the security of the place and the importance of the treasure it held. Tsulong confirmed the suspicions, seemingly quite confident that someone was down there, and yet, Faolan seemed a tad dismissive.

"That is none of our concern. We're here for the plate. Let Vash deal with this."

"Gentelmen," said the voice of a Gengar, appearing out of nowhere. Tel cried out in surprise, psychically flinging a candle. The object sailed quite slowly through the air, landing rather pitifully with a splat a few feet in front of the ghost. Seeing no hostile reactions, Tel returned to staring at his claws.

"Erm, I thought you could, uh… make use of the, uh… candle…"

Hender shushed his student, listening intently to the plans of the others. He said nothing, but brought Telmund along to follow Tsulong – he was, after all, the one they had been told to meet. What awaited them through the door to the right, neither knew.
 
Alexander​




He could see all of the city, white marble flashing against the sun, as he was sitting on the branch of a tree on the highest hill. Next to him, on the fat tree's trunk, he had carved a word with his sharp claw, Euphoria, while eating the apple he had plucked. The warm, fuzzy touch of the sun, along with the moist ground's scent and the beautiful sight of the shimmering sea brought him a soothing feeling of euphoria. After the rush of adrenaline on duty, this was a feeling he cherished. But most importantly, it was the sense of satisfaction of a job well done. Everything had gone according to plan. In a snap of his fingers, at one time literally, lives - important lives - were removed from the chessboard of the Kingdom of Altica. Most accomplished businessmen of Skyhaven, possible matches for Lady Adelaide had been killed, either by his hand or by the results of his machinations. His Lady's secret marriage was secured from the prying vultures... though many were alive still.

Alex dropped from the branch to land softly on the ground, having had enough of the view. He dusted off the lapel of his cloak, then started making his way down the hill, towards the docks and the sea. The grass was wet under his paws, just how he liked it, and there was a slight, refreshing breeze that made his cloak billow behind him.

His eyes fell onto a patch of flowers by the fence of a lonely house. Curious, he thought, taking a better look as he approached. It had lush blue petals. He thought Adelaide might like such flowers... not these flowers. Upon closer inspection, he detected their spiky stem. That alone classified them as dangerous; he knew, though, they were no common flowers. They were mageroyals, which produced a poison with varying effects depending on the species of the victim. To some, it brought hallucinations, to others, it brought insomnia and shakes. It was used as a medicine, even, but it could bring death, too.

Alex kneeled on the ground next to the mageroyals, engaging the blades hidden in his sleeve. He cut a plentiful amount of the rare flowers and put them inside one of the multiple inner pockets of his cloak.

When he got to his feet, he came eye to eye with a vixen. Indeed, Cassiopeia froze in the middle of the road when he saw him. Her red eyes blazed, her face twisted with fury as she strode to him in big steps. He opened his arms wide, as if to hug her.

"Poison!" she shouted in his face, when she reached him. "That's a foul way of paying people!"

"Your lot is fouler tenfold, why should you care of my methods?" he questioned her, his voice calm, his arms still spread. When she tried to punch him, he caught her thin wrist in a solid grip. She kicked and punched against him, but he managed to tug her hands behind her back with one hand, the other resting next to her throat.

"I almost got killed," she cried angrily, squirming, then stopped to think. She continued in a softer tone that perhaps hinted she was hurt. "Part of the plan, wasn't it? Get rid of that Braixen, too. No witnesses."

Alex made a hissing sound to shut her up. "I know you are not just any Braixen. Could you ever blame me if I had confidence in your survival?" Cassiopeia seemed like the kind of person who was sick of being pushed around, so a little credit to her abilities would give him what he wanted... the trick was done. She lowered her eyes on the grass and stopped struggling against his grip, and the hint of a smile formed on her pretty snout. In her scent, he could smell a hundred things, from the stench of ships and the docks, to the perfumes of the rich merchants of the auction she had been into.

Then, she suddenly pushed him away, still hinting she was trying to hide a smile. "You knew, then. You'd make a swell first-mate, Alex. What do you say? Join my crew. Leave that lady of yours to mingle with her class." Now she was grinning.

Mingle with her class she has, and I with her, Alex almost said. "I was not made to be first-mate on a ship," he said with a solid, superior tone. He couldn't even begin to imagine himself on a ship, part of a pirate crew. They were nothing but a bunch of cutthroats, eager to spend their gold the same day they earned it in shallow fancies like drinking.

"Well, you can't be captain, for the captain of my ship is me. What would you be, if not first-mate."

"The storm that strikes your ship," Alex joked, getting past her as he walked off.

"Oi! What of my payment, you pompous gasbag?" she shouted.

Alex kept walking towards the docks, without turning back. "I have no gold, if that's what you're asking," he lied, "although you can try to rob me and find out if I'm lying."

"Rob you?" she repeated, astonished. He laughed briefly, deeply.

"Pirates tend to do that, yeah? And you're not afraid of me."

"You got that right. Scorpius fears none, not even the Lord of the Twelve Seas."

"Sounds like a thick fellow," Alex said softly, sneering slightly. Fear makes us wary... which, in turn, makes us strong.

Cassiopeia took a moment to realize what he'd just said. "To hell with you, Alex!" she yelled, running after him.
 
Roscoe the Leech
Skyhaven - Lovely Pinnacle hike, don't you think?
~~~~~

Waiting with Tsulong for the rest of the heroes to show up, Roscoe looked up at the mountain on which the Pinnacle sat and chuckled briefly. "Twice now we've had t' do such a hike," the Sceptile muttered. Faolan's words brought Roscoe's attention back to the group, and his mirth died. There was Tsulong, Faolan, himself, Telmund and Hender, and Gaius. And Vash, now that the Crobat had just joined them. Roscoe didn't see Pierce at first, but the ghost could be present without being visible. He shuddered slightly at the thought. Still no Reginard, though, or Vincent for that matter.

As they began heading for the path up the mountain, Roscoe lingered until he was one of the last few to leave the Court of Winds. Vincent couldn't have abandoned them...could he? The Sceptile blew a sigh and focused on the trail for the time being. Two things quickly became clear for him. The trail and walls were slick with the previous night's rain, making it more difficult for the Sceptile's grip to hold. Roscoe was sure he could have climbed the walls anyway, if it wasn't for the second thing: the weight of his pack wouldn't let him stick to the wet vertical walls.

Some way up the mountain, Roscoe looked up at the Metang and his passenger. Hearing Telmund's woes, Roscoe couldn't help letting out a laugh despite the wear of the hike. It reminded him of himself and his former mentor, Phillip. He also found it a bit amusing when Faolan virtually complained about the trail, twice.

At the top of the mountain, Roscoe's yellow eyes wandered over the masterpiece of architecture for only a few seconds before he sat down for a moment and blew a sigh of relief. "Trail's harder with a pack, y'know?" It was only a minute or so before the group had to move on.

Inside, when Vash stopped and commented on the open door to the right, Roscoe warily turned around to look back the way they'd come. Open gates...just like when they'd entered the Inner Sanctum. The Sceptile cracked his knuckles before making a slight chopping motion with one claw. In a moment, an after-image of Roscoe phased into existence to one side and became solid. The Substitute looked exactly like him, except it didn't carry a pack, belt, or weapons.

Before the group could split up, Roscoe asked, "Hey, Vash, mind closin' the gates behind ya? I wouldn't want anyone else comin' in behind us." Whether the Caretaker heard him or not, the real Roscoe headed for the left door while his Substitute made for the right alongside Tsulong.

On the left, Roscoe walked up until he was just a couple feet behind Vash. "So, what's with th' screen back there?"

In the group to the right, Sub-Roscoe* drifted toward Telmund's side. "So, Telmund the Learned, is it? Name's Roscoe."


*Roscoe's Substitute shall be referred to as Sub-Roscoe.
 
Gaius the Disciple
​

Gaius was mostly silent as the Heros ascended the mountain, keeping his eyes on the rocks ahead while his mind wandered. Heights had never really been something he had needed to think about before, but being hoisted through the air like a rag-doll had indicated to him just how dangerous gravity could be. This terrain was more comfortable that that at least - he knew from experience that if he needed to he was capable of piercing rock with his hand spikes to get a grip - but he still breathed a quiet sigh of relief when the group finished their climb and entered the castle.

The Pinnacle was almost as impressive from the inside as it was when seen looming overhead, filled with slick marble and statues. Gaius had just about started to calm down from the nerves the unpleasant climb had awoken when he noticed the door. Great, it seemed this was going to be much less simple than expected.

Gaius was still debating whether this was a good thing or not - excitement was good in small quantities after all - when the others started to move. He snorted scornfully when the Meinshao walked off to the left, ignoring the open door. "Leaving a potential enemy behind us would be unwise." he stated flatly, moving towards the right door even as Pierce appeared to convince the others.

He wouldn't be alone at least then. Most of the assembled Heros were moving towards the door except for Roscoe who had split himself in two and gone both directions. Taking cue from the Sceptile to prepare himself Gaius placed his hands together briefly and focused his energy until they glowed green. When he unlinked his fingers and spread his arms a line of green followed his hands, abruptly becoming solid when it was just shorter than Gaius was tall, leaving him with a glowing green staff. One end of the Bone Club ended in an exaggerated bone feature like the Cubone weapons the attack took it's name from, but the other had been formed into a sharp, jagged edge by a violent twist of Gaius' hand. Holding his weapon at the ready Gaius strode carefully towards the open door, alert for anything that may lay beyond.
 
Faolan
​


The steps up the Pinnacle were endless, the polished steel corridors drawing on and on... it was easy to get lost in this castle, but the path the heroes that had taken the door to the left wasn't complicated. Following Vash the Bullet, they took an elevator up many floors, then took a left in a circular corridor with massive windows. Faolan could see all the extent of the grasslands around Skyhaven from there, basking under the sun. Soon, as they escalated further, the view was covered by the clouds - they were finally above them.

"What is this place?" Faolan muttered in wonder, looking around as they reached a circular chamber with a stage in the middle. It looked like an opera theater. "At first glance, it appears to be a castle... but what's with the screen and the stage? And the lift we took earlier?"

There was another lift to be taken. This one would take them to the top of the central tower of the Pinnacle - the highest tower. "We're in the peak," Pierce announced, his voice sounding meek. The cold air whipped Faolan's face hard, and he found it was difficult to breathe up there. All around them, the blue extent of the sky was overwhelmingly beautiful. It was soothing to Faolan, somehow, even though the wind was roaring in his ears; perhaps it would be a good spot for meditation.

But before he could think of doing that, his eyes fell on a massive golden sphere in the middle of the circular platform that was the peak of the Pinnacle. The sphere was about ten times Faolan's size, looming huge over them. It appeared to be turning round and round clockwise, and the wind was much stronger the closer they got. Faolan took a few steps forward, as if to inspect it, reaching his hand out to it. It didn't look dangerous, but he knew there was a catch. He could feel it in his bones. That was no normal wind.

"No touching," Pierce said from far away. Faolan noticed the Gengar was keeping his distance for some reason, and he detected a hint of nervousness in his flat smile.

"Is this where it is? The Sky Plate?" Faolan asked rhetorically, staring dubiously at the golden sphere. If the Plate was anywhere, it would be inside that sphere, but it didn't look like it had any ways of breaking open. Faolan had the faintest suspicion that his own strength would fail to crack it too, but he quickly pushed that thought away and looked at Vash. The Caretaker would know how to open it.

The inside of the sphere was empty, but for a circular, dark object placed on the bottom. The Plate, where is the Plate? Faolan tried to keep his calm. He leaped in the sphere, looking at the item on the golden bottom. It was a disk, made of stone, with one word engraved on it: Zeal. Faolan jerked his body around, in search for Vash. "Vash!" he roared, "where is the Plate?"

Vash was nowhere to be seen. Faolan grabbed the disk, but as he touched it, the world shifted around him. It fazed for a second. Faolan was midair, leaping out of the sphere, when a vision appeared before him. His feet touched the steel-like cold floor, but he couldn't see it. He was seeing something else, as were the other heroes.


***

"Let the feast begin," Lady Tanda said, although her Ser Tevalis had not arrived just yet. She felt alone without him, surely.


Their tables were forming a circle around the fountain, the scent of delicious food (roasted Swanna!) emanating everywhere, drawing the birds. The Hussars were eating as well, a rare exception, but celebrations called for exceptions.

Supposedly, they were celebrating their victory. Soon, the heroes would be coming down the Pinnacle with the Sky Plate, and they would be killed, as soon as they exited the castle. Lady Tanda's sources had informed her that the newcomer in the Council, Pierce, had also been part of the group of heroes once, and that he was still, potentially, a dangerous ally of theirs. Chance had brought Lady Tanda and Pierce next to each other in the table; she was looking at him intently, a little sleepily from last night's nightmares. She had been sick, only for a day, just enough to be left out of the decision of whether the heroes would venture up the Pinnacle or not... she was content with the final decision, though, so she said nothing.

Pierce's red eyes met hers. She had the impression his smile was more cocksure than it was before, his eyes always having that cunning glow she did not like at all. "The meal is exquisite, my lady," the ghost said, yet he hadn't touched any of it, "give my regards to the cook."

"The Swanna is far too spicy," Lady Tanda complained, her throat burning. Pierce chuckled at that.

"Of course, my lady."

"Say, Pierce... you work with the heroes, don't you?"

His eyes went wide, but he quickly got over his surprise. "Yes," he stated with brute honesty. "As is the Trade Prince, as you are well aware of."

"Then you do realize... that we cannot simply allow you to step out by the end of this session?" she said, her voice dangerously low. Her smile was small and sadistic, a maniacal glow in her eyes. "Having you warn the heroes of our plan to confront them... that will not do, do you get me?"

Pierce sighed, looking down at his untouched meal in a pretended sad expression. The glasses were empty, there were no drinks to be brought. Lord Zygon was coughing and cried out for water, the Hussars said none had brought any to the tables.

"I know, my lady. My life is forfeit, it seems. Perhaps you have won this game... I understand you must be a good Lady for King Aion and hand him the Plate. You shall be the Lady of Skyhaven for the rest of your life."

The Gothitelle blinked, staring at him with her disgusting smile. Then, she called out. "Hussars. Seize this ghost. If he dares move, kill him."

Pierce was quickly surrounded by Hussars, Sigmund put a psychic cage on him just in case he escaped. The Pikachu, Januario, ignored the whole situation and continued to gobble down on his meal like a man who hadn't eaten in days.

The ghost had an impassive expression, almost lifeless, when Lord Zygon coughed again and Lady Lyra trembled a bit on her seat, looking at the imprisoned Pierce. It seemed as if he had gone stale all of a sudden, which made him look scary. A Gengar without his smile was scarier, oddly. Lady Tanda smirked her eyes, touching her neck lightly. "And bring me a glass of water. This Swanna has proven to be a pain instead of a pleasure."

"What a crime," Lady Lyra the Luxray said, "we are quite undeserving of such punishment... to ruin a good Swanna with so much pepper, who would eat a thing such as this!"

"I love it," the Pikachu said, "I love the Swanna, bring more..."

"Water," Lord Zygon cried out, still recovering from his wounds from last night's duel.

The Hussars saw the flowing fountain and headed there immediately, scooping up the crystal clear water into large glasses. But they wouldn't be enough, glasses... it was a vain attempt at relieving the heat. The heat in their throats drew them to the fountain, they threw their glasses aside and started drinking straight from it. Some returned to the tables to fill the Council's glasses.

"Gentlemen!" Pierce announced suddenly, his big grin having returned. "It is a time to be celebrating. Today, you will have captured the Sky Plate and my brave comrades. I admit I sought to help them. Now I also admit my defeat at this very moment, but I would also like to entertain you a bit."

Sigmund's prison broke to pieces and a massive shadow bloated to gargantuan size in the middle of the square, right before all of their eyes. It was the shadow of Pierce... a cunning shadow, grinning down at them with vicious satisfaction written on his scary, shady face. They were paralyzed by fear, trapped under this menace. None of them shouted at first. Their insides were burning, the whispering of the fountain got louder, it was speaking out loud. The head of the Rayquaza's statue turned to look down upon the Council, grinning along with the Gengar. It was like fireworks appeared in the sky in broad daylight; the Hussars started coughing and stumbling and shouting, the Council as well. Lady Tanda fell backwards from her chair. Januario's little body was going through violent spasms. Lord Zygon was gasping for air and Lady Lyra's body sparked with faint electricity. Lord Archelon the Carracosta had fallen on his back and flailing in vain. They were unable to get up, despite any effort - the fire inside them was eating them away quickly as if they were leaves.

"You have caught Zeal," Pierce said, his voice twisted and heavy, "and you will be made to regret it. Try stopping the heroes. They are the least of your worries now... welcome to your nightmare."




***

​

The Council was silent for a long while, after they had finished their meal. Traditionally, they would feast under the statue of Rayquaza in the middle of the fountain, where the 'holy' water of the mountains was flowing freely. Ser Tevalis had attended countless sessions, but never again had he witnessed this. The five members of the Council, including his Lady Tanda, were seated on the tables that the Hussars had brought, silent and still like the statue of Rayquaza that towered above them. The Winged Hussars were standing back, respectfully, keeping their vigil. The only sound was that of the water of the fountain.

Ser Tevalis looked past his spiked shoulderpads at Lord Archelon, who had never finished his plate. The menu of the day was exquisite, and the old Carracosta always had quite the appetite, despite his age. Yet, his plate was unfinished. He was looking forward to nothing in particular. Lady Tanda as well. And the ghost, that Gengar... Ser Tevalis stared at Pierce, who returned the stare. But the sinister red gaze of the ghost was a blank one, as if he saw past the massive Conkeldurr.

The lull was almost unbearable for the knight, who couldn't wait any longer. He took a step forward and talked without permission. "My lords, my ladies... I purchased a doll from this man," he pointed at Pierce, "a Gothitelle doll. It was stolen from me the next day; however, I found it again, the night of the fireworks."

That night, he had given his Lady Tanda the Gothitelle doll, and she had fallen sick. It was destined for her, he could tell, for Lady Tanda was a Gothitelle as well.

"I know nothing of sorcery, but I believe that doll was cursed by the Cunning Shadow," the Conkeldurr said.

They all slowly turned their heads to look at Tevalis. The ghost's expression worried him. He seemed not to react to his words, and he was quiet; Ser Tevalis expected Pierce to start to panic, yet the Gengar seemed calmer than ever. He would also expect his Lady Tanda to seize the man at once, but she was unmoving, her stare unyielding. A queer feeling struck him, seeing those blank stares, and his voice cracked a bit from hesitation when he continued.

"I was given to hold the notebook of the fiend that is haunting our city, Zeal, after it was left in the Court of Winds. This morning, I brought the notebook to my Lady Tanda, who was recovering from her sickness. When she attempted to... sense any possible magic bound with it, it vanished."

No response, only dead silence. He swallowed, sweating, wondering if what he was doing was wrong. Something was awry. His words should have provoked a reaction by now, by any of them. "I realized, the notebook was nothing but an illusion. A well made, powerful illusion made by the Zoroark I had caught, whom he freed," he said, looking threateningly at Pierce. "I had caught the right person," Ser Tevalis declared solidly, "who was defended in court so valiantly by Pierce... whose doll I found on the crime scene. Therefore, I can assume they are tied together, and therefore, I can assume they are in league--"


Suddenly, he was shot up in the air, his eyes rolling on the back of his head from the tremendous psychic force that crushed his head with pressure enough to make blood leak out of his ears and nose. His spiky shoulderpads crushed against his neck, impaling it fully. He tried to shout, his senses screaming as he gurgled in his own blood, unable to shake off of the psychic attack despite his massive size - its intensity was beyond natural, the pressure was unreal and the pain was blinding and unbearable. Any lesser Pokemon would have died instantly from this force, but the Conkeldurr was a big man, strong. Yet his body yielded so easily, as if it were a leaf.

They said nothing of him squirming to his death, drowning in his own blood. Not even the Hussars around him tried to help. They were all bewitched, that was one of his last thoughts. Fire engulfed his body, making a torch out of him. Through steel and blood, his vision was limited, but he managed to look at the silent, lulled Council one last time. Lady Tanda was staring at him, her eyes empty of emotion. The rest had fixed their dark gazes at him too, and in the panic and realization of the impending death, he thought madly that they were hateful gazes, many black eyes to stare down at him. There was only a pair of eyes that glowed a different color, with power - green, ominously, and with a sick satisfaction, but he couldn't quite comprehend to whom they belonged to.

An alien laugh cracked from somewhere ahead as he collapsed on the ground, broken.

"You were on the right track, I believe."​


***


It was the inside of a building, a desk in an important looking office. A fat Tangrowth was seated behind it, and a Kirlia was standing next to him. Across the desk, the Trade Prince was seated on a silk red chair, his little arms crossed. Sigmund was standing just behind him, with eyes glowing faintly in the color of dark green.

"I truly am sorry," the Tangrowth was saying, somewhat sarcastically, "but the Plate shall not remain in the city. Lady Tanda has already decided it will be so."

Januario sighed. "That's true, I grant you that. It won't remain in the city. But if it's the King you want to give it to, I'm afraid you won't succeed. The heroes are coming, and it's them who'll be leaving with the Plate. I have already decided it is so."

With that, the Trade Prince left the office. The Kirlia turned to Franklin the Cyalan Ambassador. "Mister Franklin, do you really believe they have got a chance?"

"No, dear, even saying that is laughable," the Tangrowth shook his head, "it might be true that the Trade Prince is helping them, but he is their only footing in the Council. And Lady Tanda means to expel him immediately. After that is done, the heroes will be banished from the city - if they want to get into the Pinnacle, they will have to face the Hussars... no man, hero or not, may stand against dozens of thousands. And... I will be the one to personally carry the Sky Plate from Skyhaven to the King's hands."

As they were standing with their backs against the wall, neither seemed to notice the red eyes that were showing behind them. Red, cunning eyes, yet full of worry.


***


The images shifted again. The ghostly form of Pierce assembled in front of the eyes of the gathered heroes, but the ghost didn't seem to notice them - he was merely a vision, nothing else. He was in a narrow room that was no doubt a privy of a luxurious building. The Gengar was furiously pacing up and down, fingering his spiky chin and grinding his teeth together, often meeting head to head with the wall and almost slipping fully inside it. He was in deep thought, stumbling on his feet as he looked intently on the marble tiles of the floor. The voice of his thoughts seemed to reverberate in the vision: this is no good, this is no good at all. Frantically, he looked around as he paced, rubbing his hands nervouslywith eyes wide open. This path we're headed to, it has to change...

Suddenly, the door of the privy burst open and in levitates Sigmund. The bulky bodyguard's mean eyes fell down on Pierce. "Well, what do you know," Sigmund said sarcastically, "a ghost in the toilet. It almost sounds like a horror fiction story. Don't spend too much time in here, or else you'll smell like **** and Client will hate that. You're smelly enough as it is."

While he was talking, Pierce's face had been lit up with an expression of awe mixed with surprise, as if he'd just been hit with the wrecking ball of a brilliant idea. This is what I need. "I know what Januario hates," Pierce said cunningly, giving Sigmund a little smile, "it's disloyalty. Give me your hand."

Sigmund was way slower than Pierce, who grabbed his fat gel-hand with both of his own ghostly ones. The bodyguard screamed in agony, his hand engulfed in dark flames that burst out of nowhere. Immediately, the Gengar was trapped in green psychic bars and immobilized. "I knew you were up to no good. You're dead," Sigmund announced furiously, raising his hand, glowing brilliantly with green psychic power. He was about to channel a psychic blast of energy that would send Pierce face-first into the Purgatory.

"Not yet," Pierce said calmly behind the bars, "I suggest you put that down. Our lives are bound now."
​

​
"What?" the psychic boomed, exasperated, confused. His dangerous green eyes were widened in fury and confusion, but he suddenly seemed to understand.

Pierce grinned. "Don't do anything reckless. It's called Destiny Bond. You do like to live, Sigmund? Kill me, and I take you with me. You do know what that means: if I kill myself, you are dead too."

"You tricky bastard!" Sigmund boomed.

"Keep your voice down, and remove these bars, please. Let us talk like civilized Pokemon with a common purpose."

It was done, the bars were removed. "Now, listen closely. I know what Franklin intends. I can't simply let him do as he pleases. If he continues to exist, he will make sure Lady Tanda is successful in expelling Januario from the Council. Then, every chance we have of getting to the Sky Plate will be gone, and our well being will be in danger. Now, I'm not fond of murder, but I truly don't see any way around it. He is my enemy, after all."

That's how Tsulong deals with his enemies, right? Pierce's voice echoed, and a brief vision covered the already displaying one. It was Tsulong, charging at the Cyalan camp in Westfall with a deadly, roaring inferno of his flames following behind him and engulfing everything in his wake. Hundreds had died by their hands.

"Go, and remove him," Pierce ordered him, "quietly, and do not speak a word of this to Januario."

Sigmund was left without words for a few moments, calculating his options. It seemed the intelligent Reuniclus had been willing to hear him out, for an odd reason, as if he had been expecting to be tricked. Pierce locked his red eyes on the Reuniclus. I see now that he was aware I knew how to use Destiny Bond... he did expect me to use it. But he didn't know when. Just what kind of Pokemon is Sigmund? Do I know anything about him? Is he truly loyal to Januario? His loyalty sure changes fast... Pierce's voice sounded in the vision, just before Sigmund spoke up.

"I've no choice, do I?"

"I thought it over, and you did, too. You don't have any choice. Take this," Pierce revealed his suitcase and took out a disk. It wasn't made of stone; it was a steel, polished one, with a tag on it, Hidden Power. It flew over to the Reuniclus, who grasped and looked at it. "Whatever your Hidden Power is, use it to kill the Ambassador. We do not need Januario's attention on you - he does know of your usual moveset." Instead, we need to draw attention on another person... someone who is far more dangerous than the heroes...

 "Leave a note nearby, 'Zeal'."

"Got it. Zeal. For the Ambassador's zeal, right."

"And remember, do it quietly," Pierce pleaded.

"Quietly, sure," the bodyguard laughed his alien laugh that echoed horribly in the vision. "I'll show you quiet."

Oh no. Pierce remained in the bathroom of the Embassy when the screaming started. He clutched his head and faced the wall. No, no, no... Sigmund was letting his rage on the innocents inside the building. And his Hidden Power had turned to be fire.


***


"I am Ser Raleigh," the Charizard stated, and Pierce shook his hand. He needed to levitate mid-air above the fresh grass to achieve this.

"My pleasure," Pierce said with a mellow, yet cunning smile plastered on his dark face. "Although I doubt that's your real name."

"How acute of you," the Charizard responded with a muddy expression, frowning down upon him.

"Well then," Pierce said suddenly, interrupting the fearsome warrior, "we are settled. You will let us rest here," He looked to the inn amidst the forest. "Safest place in all of Skyhaven, you say?"

"Indeed. You need not worry of anyone looking for you here."


​
"Splendid. I would hate it if Hussars interrupted my thinking."

"Likewise, my stumpy friend."


***


Sigmund sneaked into the dark forest, meeting up with Pierce at the spot they had agreed.

"How is the spying going?" Pierce asked bluntly, his teeth purple from the poisonous drink that lady at the inn was serving.

The bodyguard shrugged. "I've some bad news for you and your lot. The previous plan to banish the heroes from the city has been cancelled. Instead, those bastards have cooked up something better for you. The moment you set foot in the city, you're to be arrested and brought to the Council, where you will suffer an 'accident' and die. All of you."

"Accident?" Pierce said, flustered and worried, "no, that can't happen..."

"Too bad, isn't it? You work so hard to get the Grass Plate and then you come here to die." Sigmund roared his laughter.

Pierce rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That can be avoided. The Hussars aren't what they used to be. Gold is sure to grease some of their hinges... I'll go greet the heroes. Stay in touch."
​


***


"Faolan!" the Gengar exclaimed merrily, "I trust you had a good stroll around? Isn't Skyhaven lovely?"


​
"Yes, lovely," Faolan muttered, picking up the nest in front of him. Pierce dropped from the branch he was sitting on to snatch it off his hands and rose to sit on the branch again, placing the nest next to him. His delicate fingers brushed on the inside, his wide smile waning, tortured by the weight of thought. Turning to Faolan, he said, "this nest is like Skyhaven."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"It's a comfortable place to be... and occupied by sweethearts. However, a certain somebody arrives without notice..." he raised his eyebrows in a pretended suspense, "and scares them away, then knocks it over."​


***


"These letters you are writing, what are they?" Sigmund demanded to know, standing behind Pierce as he sat on the desk, writing furiously with his pencil.

"These letters," Pierce said, holding the inkpot with his tongue, "are the key to our salvation."


***


"Could you please deliver these to the Knights of the Iron Circle?" Pierce handed Ser Raleigh a bag that was full of letters. He grinned cunningly at him. "I believe you and the Dragonlords of Acanthus are all too... familiar with each other, yes? Especially with one of them, the leader... Chieftain Dragonlord of Acanthus."

"Ah, indeed," the Charizard grinned back, "Lordus Rivendare and I have enjoyed battle side by side in our younger days. You are a rather bright fellow, I suppose you would know already."

"By all means, my lord. I can see you enjoying battle once again, soon enough."

The Charizard looked at the bag with the letters. "So, these are an invitation to battle?"

"It's an invitation for an alliance," Pierce replied smugly, "if it's war and freedom the Dragonlords want... let us work together on granting them that." And thus create a most dangerous enemy for King Aion, while gaining a powerful ally of our own... well done, Pierce.

Ser Raleigh said, "that sounds quite beneficial... for all of us."

"I trust you will deliver the letters privately, then."

"By all means, I shall."


***


"Ah, Toa, good to see you," Pierce greeted his old ally in the dark, quiet road. There was something he didn't like about him, though. The Zoroark was looking around frantically, his red eyes widened as if in fear of encountering his worst nightmare around the corner. "Everything alright?"

"Don't raise your voice," Toa ordered him.

"Edward," Pierce whispered in a blank expression, making sure not to show any emotion, "it was you who killed him, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was me."

"I'm thankful for that, it helped us greatly in our cause. With Mantarys leading the Company, we were able to thwart them... excellent thinking from your part." But Pierce had a thoughtful, rather disturbed expression on. The gears of his mind were working like crazy, and he could hear his ears buzz with that sense of dread he felt when something did not go according to plan. Toa, you wandered on dangerous grounds... very dangerous, indeed. The Stranger could be nowhere else but in Westfall camp before the battle started. Given his obvious affinity for dark, he would have spotted you from miles away... this gives me a hunch that I can't simply ignore.

"Of course it was, you didn't expect any less, did you?" Toa snapped, but then jerked around to stare into a dark corner.

A little search of the mind won't hurt."Toa!" he gasped suddenly, flying in front of him to grasp his furry shoulders. The Zoroark stared straight in his red eyes with his own eyes widened in terror. He fell hard on the cobblestone after the Hypnosis, sleeping almost peacefully... Pierce dove right into his dream, directing it, but not touching it. That would cause pain, and he wanted to do his best to avoid that.

It was vague, but he could tell he was in Cyala's throne room, King Aion seated on his throne with the flames of his fiery beard licking the Dark Plate above him. The Stranger stood tall over Toa, who was thrown in front of both of them. The fiend had his hood removed. It was a Zoroark underneath...

"Father?" Toa cried out, but the dream shifted. Another figure from the back took a step forward; it was a huge Pangoro with a staff sheathed on his back of his chestguard.

"I bestow upon you, the Fire Plate. You shall be the new Ambassador in Skyhaven," King Aion declared in a powerful voice that seemed to ring in the dream, echoing between the walls of the throne room.

Master Zhao has the Fire Plate!

Then a whisper echoed, making the hackles behind the Gengar's neck rise. "You may all touch the Dark Plate. Forever be blessed by darkness."

It was Mantarys, Toa, Zhao and a Garchomp who reached for the Dark Plate, which had descended to the ground so that they could touch it. They all touched it at the same time under the Stranger's gaze, and all were shrouded in darkness, their eyes changing to black for a moment.

Toa was stirring in his sleep. The dream threw Pierce right into a forest. It was a dark swamp with running waters, black roots of corruption pulsing around him. This place... what could it be? Corruption, here? Is the Dark Plate to blame for this? Is this... the power of the Dark Plate?


***

"I am Zeal," Pierce told Toa. "You know why. I had no choice. I'm going to warn Reginard about Zhao... I'm not sure if he has the Fire Plate or not, but if our allies go looking for him, we'll find out, eventually." He said to Toa, who immediately gave him a notebook. The notebook had a word, 'Zeal' written on it.

Pierce was astonished for a moment, staring at the notebook.

"Take this. It contains a message that needs to be heard," Toa said.

"What kind of message, if I may ask?" Pierce opened the notebook. It was empty.

"You'll see. And read all of it."

"But, we can't have Zeal talking about you, else you'll be blamed--"

"Do as I say."



***


Reginard's mind... it is infected, same as Toa's. That area that resembles a swamp, that is corruption, I know it well... I now am sure this is no normal phenomenon. It is an unholy spell. And the worst part, this is no amateur's work - I cannot possibly find a cure. This cannot be good. Two heroes are already infected... and Toa already almost foiled my plans with that message he had me read from the notebook. The notebook appears to be a beacon for his powers to create illusions. Another creation of dark magic, no doubt. An ability he surely did not possess before. I wonder, on whose side is he now? He did touch the Dark Plate... the Stranger, if it really was his father, would Toa do as he commanded? I searched further and found nothing inside his dreams. Perhaps the time has come, I need to deal with this... else, I will have to kill him.
​


And Reginard... he acts strangely. Not as I had expected. As is Toa... that 'seed' that has been planted inside their minds is causing them to lose it. How long will they stay on our side, if they have not gone already?


***


"You didn't read all of my message," Toa snapped at him. Pierce was standing at a safe distance, lest the furious Zoroark attack him.

"The message claimed that you were Zeal," Pierce said, trying to maintain his calm. He barely managed to contain his anger for what had almost been said through the notebook. "That would compromise my plans. Toa, do you realize what it is you'd accomplish? You'd slip into the role of the enemy!"

I am Zeal, Pierce thought, no one else. The others were his tools.
​

"If that is what it takes to be recognized for my actions... Reginard completely ignored my orders. He will suffer for that."

He is mad. Pierce faded into the wall, only his eyes and voice remaining behind. "Toa, heed this warning, for your own good. This is enough fooling around, so let me state this clearly. I am Zeal. Not you, nor anybody else. Should you do anything reckless, I will crush you." The old friend was finally becoming an enemy.
***

Oh, what have I done? I should have predicted this... and now Guardian has died, because of me. Toa's mind has snapped, he's with the enemy now. Why else go after Guardian? He was the one we trusted with the Grass Plate! He wanted the Plate... the Stranger wants the Plates. It makes sense.

Pierce was in the Court of Winds, staring at nothing with a distraught expression. It was raining. They were about to prosecute the captured Toa. Pierce was conflicted. Would he let Toa die? He did cause all this, after all. But then, the black notebook on the ground appeared out of nowhere, along with the voice...

Ahh, what do we have here... a corrupt system and a victim deemed as the perpetrator, ready to be prosecuted. You have the wrong guy... as per usual. There was a laugh, a laugh that would sound charming in other circumstances. The silence hung heavy in the Court of Winds after the laugh died down; the Hussars were on guard, looking away, searching for the one who spoke. But there was no one. Only that notebook. None dared approach it. Pierce was staring at it, wide eyed, his instincts dulled with fear and his logic frozen in place. This is an illusion, he thought, only an illusion. But Toa would never speak like that, if it was him producing the illusion.

The voice came again. Forgive my misguided friend Reginard over here. He would lead you to false conclusions... of course, that is all you need to function as Council, false conclusions. You would take innocent men into prison in my name, blaming them for MY actions... why should they take the credit? What a hideous system you have. I intend to change it. Forever. Mark my words. And I am starting now. I will prove the innocence of Toa. Look to the south, my lords. And do send your Hussars. I will carve my seal upon their bodies. Au revoir.​

Who is that speaking? Pierce licked his lips, his eyes open in terror, that's not Sigmund or Toa... who is that? Who pretends to be me?

I know what I will do with Toa. Enemy or not, I need him to stick around. I hate to do this, but it must be done, for the sake of the heroes. He looked at Toa, who had asked him to make them understand. Then Pierce did what was necessary to free him of any charges.

​
As Toa was leaving the scene, Pierce saw Vincent stopping him. The two Pokemon talked briefly with each other. Pierce's eyes were fixed on the pair when Toa pointed at Pierce in a fearful expression, so unlikely of him, who was standing close to Januario.


***


He was the one who had sent Sigmund to the docks immediately after seeing the fireworks forming the word Zeal, one of Toa's powerful illusions, no doubt. Sigmund had been given Zeal's notebook that Pierce carried and took it to the docks. Apparently, Toa could create as many notebooks as he wanted, and they all could communicate with each other. Strange, strange powers, Pierce was thinking, I must resist giving in to practicing such dark arts. The dark draws you... then swallows you, like it did with Toa and Reginard.

The moment he got the signal, Sigmund blew up everything in his path while in the docks, according to plan. The Council witnessed the explosions and could not prosecute Toa for being Zeal... Somehow, Pierce had predicted that Sigmund would be needed there, before Toa was captured. Call it a mastermind's intuition, he already had a plan in case Toa got captured after his follies.

But there was one thing that did not go as planned. Pierce had agreed that it would be Sigmund that would speak through the telepathetic link of the notebooks. It wasn't Sigmund. When Pierce confronted him about it, he only said, "it was an old friend of mine who is better at acting than I am."

Sigmund had also said Toa was the one who had sent the Trade Prince the threatening letter, and that he had let that thief, Elizabeth, deliver it safely - explaining that if he had seized her, Januario would start asking her questions about the man who gave her the letter, and they could not afford that.

Januario must stay in the dark... and then, he has to die.
​


***

Toa was staring in a mirror, his fur drenched in blood and the downpour. His red eyes were enlarging constantly, until he figured out something was up with the mirror. Before he could react, he fell hard on the floor, snoring heavily, as Pierce slipped out of the mirror. The ghost had a tricky, cheerful expression on his face as he descended on his former ally, grabbing his bloodied hand. Black, ghostly flames erupted for a second, only to vanish right after.

The Destiny Bond was set.

I'm not going to kill you. This corruption in your mind, I will turn it to my favor - this, the Stranger will not expect. You will be my trump card, Toa... you are not lost yet.

The last phase of the plan is set in motion. The pawns were in position.
​

​


***


​
"Why so smug?" Sigmund asked him, the night before Zeal's nightmare begun.

Pierce was splashing on the fountain in the Court Square, the statue of Rayquaza towering high above them. It was a starless night, Pierce's favorite. He'd stuck his tongue out like a jester of some kind, widening his red eyes and cackling with laughter.

The Gengar was laughing uncontrollably still. "You say, Tanda intends to ambush the heroes after they retrieve the Sky Plate?"

"Indeed."

"Kehehehe, fancy. You think I did not foresee this? You think I did not think ahead of all of you?" He started laughing again. He felt accomplished. All his work had paid off.

"The criminal mastermind's lost his mind," Sigmund said sarcastically.

"Look at me," Pierce said, nudging the Reuniclus as he flew mid-air. His long tongue dove right into the waters of the fountain to retrieve back into his mouth, only for the liquid to fall back out of his body. "Keheh."

"It's over, Sig. I've won."

"Sure... what have you won, exactly?"

"The Council, the war for the Plate. Dominion over Skyhaven. I've won in every single field there is to win."

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

"Keheh. I know what Januario intended. He does want the Plate out of the city... so he can steal it from us more easily. If it did fall to the hands of the King, it would be beyond salvation, but the matter is quite different if it would be our hands. You knew all along, but you didn't tell. It's alright, I forgive you. I've already won, because I thought one step ahead of him. The Trade Prince dies by sunrise... his estates will be transferred to, hmm, do you know who? Alysanne."

The bodyguard's expression was constantly darkening. A green flash of fury passed his eyes.

Pierce was almost left breathless, at the peak of his ecstatic planning. His grin was wider than ever.

"And do you know who it is Alysanne will marry? Oh, I made sure that would happen. You know very well who..."

Sigmund had his teeth clenched, but his psychic voice sounded alien as always, filled with hatred and jealousy. "Faolan the Wicked."

"Correctly. And with the Council gone... the richest man in Skyhaven will be Faolan. He will become the Trade Prince. It is him who will rule Skyhaven... it is us, through him."

Pierce looked upon his reflection on the waters of the fountains. What he saw was a big, shady, brilliant and perfect grin.


***


​
 
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