Chapter Three: Morning

By the time Solder and Larcen got back to the guild it was late, the dusky grey sky melting into a pure black. Larcen had shuffled back onto his couch. He’d conked out the second he sank into the cushions, kicking up a cloud of dust that Solder watched settle back onto the floor.

Meanwhile, Solder couldn’t sleep. He stretched out into his blankets, stared at the ceiling, hummed a little tune, turned over, then went back to stretching. Over and over again, watching other guild members slowly trickle in and settle down. They were bleary and tired, passing over him as they filtered into their own rooms—or into other secluded portions of the lobby each sequestered by their own walls of furniture and junk.

Solder could pretend he’d got enough rest earlier, and that’s why he couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t. Mostly, nighttime seemed like the perfect time for his mind to dislodge thoughts he accumulated throughout the day, like flecks of mud spitting off a spinning wheel.

Most focused on finding klefki.

It should calm him, maybe. A nice, easy path to success. Instead, he felt this anxious itch at the back of his mind. Thoughts of meeting his brother for the first time drove that itch deeper.

Still, he would find her because he had to. And he would meet his brother unless he found klefki first and bailed out of Seafolk.

That insidious thought dangled above him. Tempting. Very tempting. He shut his eyes, barely noticing a change in the darkness, and exhaled slowly, blocking out the snoring and shuffling and sounds of sleep around the room.

But he had nowhere else to go. And Larcen was willing to run across town for him, pay for his food and talk with him for basically no reason—gods knew he wasn’t worth it.

Solder tamped everything back down so he could ignore it, leaving him with the daunting task of entertaining himself until everybody woke up.

One stubborn idea rattling around in his brain was type. He spit fire, he remembered—a very normal and unconcerning thing to do. He should be able to do it again. So, naturally, he practised. He sat up on the couch. He huffed. He moved muscles in his throat he didn’t know were there. He coughed—quietly, so Larcen didn’t wake up. Eventually, with a sore throat and beaten spirits, something clicked; a brief tongue of flame flicked from his mouth and across his chest. The loose threads of fabric from his blanket curled in the heat and the brief ember splashed a bit of light over the room.

Enough to reflect in Larcen’s eyes, cracked open slightly in a dark corner of the other couch.

Turns out he was awake. They spent an awkward few moments staring, then another few fumbling around in the dark until Larcen stumbled to his couch with a half-melted candle, yawning and adjusting his collar. Solder took the hint, lit the candle, and they started talking.

It started as an excuse for Solder to learn something—mostly about the eighteen types of pokemon and random trivia about seafolk. Enough time spent talking in the flickering candlelight floated the idea of reading between them and they decided they’d spend the rest of the morning trying, picking up a random pamphlet shoved between the stack of crates behind them.

And they did try. Really.

“What?! I told you, Th— th—- not ah—”

“That was a smudge. You said that was a smudge.”

“It was red! It obviously wasn’t part of the rune! Are you blind?”

“Shut up, weasel. So that’s the shuh— “

“No! No! Ugh… that’s an accent…”

“It’s the same. Stupid. Rune.”

“You’re an idiot! It’s in a different direction!”

“Looks the same. It’s not my fault your writing sucks.”

“Yeah, well it’s not my fault you can’t read!”

“—Excuse me?”

A gruff voice cut in from across the room. Solder and Larcen stopped whisper-shouting and shot up to stare at the towering form of Haxorus standing next to the pit of broken furniture. He lumbered in silently, somehow. Or, as Solder noticed that the guildmaster must have stood there for a while, they were a bit distracted.

“I’m glad you two are so excited about reading, but I’d appreciate your attention,” Haxorus said, giving them a warm smile and a condescending bow.

Solder blinked and surveyed the room. While they were busy, the lights had turned on and the room had filled with pokemon. Well, filled was a strong word. Five or six pokemon collected themselves in a rough ring around Haxorus. Landy relaxed in his own chair, combing through his sleek blue tail, but he was one of the only pokemon Solder recognized; the other being Brute, hiding behind the guildmaster like an unwanted guest. He stared off into space, red goggles hiding his eyes and his claws clasped before him. Yet, despite how tense he seemed, that couldn’t hide the jitters running through him. Even from far away, he looked like a wreck.

Solder yawned and stretched out on the couch. A quiet gust ushered the smell of morning dew and grass through the entrance tunnel.

“Sorry guildmaster,” Larcen muttered, smoothing out his whiskers and tossing the pamphlet to the floor. Solder said nothing, not quite over how intimidating Haxorus was.

The guildmaster fixed his stare on them for a few more moments, then cleared his throat. Still, it couldn’t clear the heavy gravel from his voice.

“Good morning, everyone. I know it’s uncommon for me to speak to you all as a group these days, but recent developments made it necessary. Plus it’s not often I find so many of you collected here.”

It must have been meant as a joke, but it barely got a snicker. Haxorus’ smile waned.

“In any case, I’ll start with something light.” He gestured toward Solder, “We have a guest! He’s Solder the quilava and he’ll be staying with us for the foreseeable future so please, everyone, treat him with respect.”

Solder didn’t like the pleading note he ended that sentence with. As much as he would rather relax back into his bed and ignore the room, that wouldn’t be a strong introduction. He popped his head over the back of the couch and shot the crowd his best neutral face; some pokemon said hello, but most just threw up a quick wave.

“Alright. Now, I’m sure some of you have already heard that I will be leaving. However, I’ve not really explained why until now. To begin, I intend for this to happen in a couple stages. First—“ He held up a claw. “I’ve discussed this with Brute—” He gestured towards the flygon. At his name, the Brute jolted, wings buzzing behind him. “and, unfortunately, the urgency of the situation requires that I can’t stay here long past noon. I’m not certain how long I will be gone for, but it shouldn’t take more than a month. In the meantime, I will trust Brute to carry out the daily operations of the guild in my stead.”

That caused a bit of a rumble around the guild members; Solder caught Larcen pulling a face beside him.

“Sir, may I ask a question?” Landy spoke up. Then, without waiting for Haxorus’ mouth to open, continued. “Why Brute? In my professional opinion, he’s incompetent and unstable. He’s barely capable of functioning in everyday life. Frankly, the guild would collapse with him in charge.”

Oh, Solder could feel the atmosphere shift in the room, like a storm just rolled in, enveloping Brute and wiping the smile off Haxorus’ face; he collected himself a moment before responding.

“I chose him because we work together very closely, I am certain he understands my duties, and I trust him completely to be the best pokemon for the job. Is that clear enough?”

Placated but visibly unhappy, Landy scowled and sat back down.

“Unfortunately.”

“Good. As for my reasons, I’ve needed to get my Guildmaster’s Certification settled for quite a while now. I’ll admit to putting it off, which is my fault, but that’s also why I simply can’t anymore. I’ll be travelling to Treebow and will only return once that is completed—”

He stepped forward, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture to the lobby and tried smiling again.

“—This is all in preparation for some big news I received not too long ago.” He paused—again, for some sort of reaction. Solder had no clue why when nobody had given him much of anything yet.

“Some of you might know of the ruins a major earthquake recently uncovered under the Jawbone Mountains just outside Seafolk. Well, other guilds have finally caught wind of it, and have collected themselves to make the journey. Before anyone asks, I’ve tried dissuading them, I’ve tried stalling them, but the best I could do was limit the number of members they sent.”

He sighed deeply, tracing the edge of his axelike tusks with a claw.

“We will need to prepare for a camp of nearly a hundred pokemon—from all major guilds, but mostly from Treebow. They will arrive in a month’s time as well. I plan to come alongside them, if I can’t make it earlier.”

The chatter increased. Not enough for it to be an uproar, but more than Solder would expect from less than a dozen pokemon. And Brute wasn’t the only pokemon falling apart anymore — Larcen, at least, groaned and flopped back onto the couch, paws cupping his muzzle in disbelief.

Despite it all, Haxorus stayed stoic, surveying the room for interruptions. A faint cough sounded from behind the crowd. He focused on that one spot, and most pokemon not talking or having a crisis on the couch followed. Solder himself didn’t see them at first, but once he craned his neck up and peered past some stacks of wicker fishing baskets, he spotted them. A short(shorter than him, for once, thank the gods), impish pokemon with dark brown skin, amber eyes and a massive puff of frizzy, white hair bigger than itself leaned against the wall there. They leered over the room with a brightness suited for the morning, arms crossed and hips askew.

“Actually, I do have a question, Axy~,” they said in a sing-song voice that Solder found faintly familiar.

Larcen jolted out of his funk at that, turning to Solder. Solder just raised a brow at him.

“That’s Bastaya, a whimsicott,” he whispered, “he runs the morning radio. You’ll probably get to hear it later. Ready for a shitshow?”

So that’s where he recognized the voice from—the morning he arrived in Seafolk, Solder remembered hearing an energetic radio broadcast crackling away by his bench on the docks. Bastaya fit the voice perfectly.

The whimsicott sauntered from his spot by the doorway, leaped over a couch and drifted like a wind-caught leaf until he hit the ground in front of the guildmaster. He didn’t disturb a speck of dust as he landed, seeming almost weightless. Solder watched, slightly bemused, and resolved not to be surprised by anything anymore.

“Now is not the greatest time for this, Bastaya,” Haxorus said, voice dropping as he stared down a pokemon less than half his size.

“Oh, but I disagree. You only sacked Zazz two days ago! Maybe Treebow flexed their big, strong muscles and tried to keep us from exploring the ruins, but—oh no, she won’t back down! What to do~?” He cocked his hip to the side and smirked, though it seemed more malicious than playful.

Whatever attempt at levity Haxorus had concocted vanished. All he had left was a tired frown.

“To be perfectly clear, the ruins exploration restrictions were of my own initiative. And the battle between Zazz and I was a mutual decision, no matter the results.” An expectant sigh crept into his voice. “Is that all?”

“You knew she wouldn’t back down. Aaaaaaand she wouldn’t take it well. But you didn’t know she would quit, and now you get to go on a nice vacation, ignoring the poor peasants here.” Bastaya’s smile turned grim.

“That’s enough.” Haxorus lifted up a leg and brought it down, hard, on a stray piece of wood. It shattered, spitting splinters across the floor. Bastaya stood strong, but Solder noticed a flinch. “I’ll admit to mishandling things, but I will not entertain your accusations. Now, I will ask you not to share my news on your show, at least until the guild is settled. Understood?”

“Can you stop me?”

“No. That’s why it wasn’t an order.”

Haxorus stepped back, clasping his hands behind him and staring out on the crowd with a strong jaw, a note of finality. There’s a final standoff where the two face each other in silence, then Bastaya huffed and spun around. He faced Solder for a brief moment and, with a brief sparkle in his eye, sent him a wink.

“So you’re the newbie, huh? Cute, but a bit stern. We can chat later~”

Then he floated off again, back towards the door he came through. Solder followed the path with his eyes, as if waiting for another chat. Nothing came. The weird imp disappeared around the corner. Solder huffed.

“I’m not that cute, really, Cute things don’t breath fire.” he said to Larcen. It got a ‘nah’ back in response, the buizel too busy staring at bumps in the ceiling.

The rest of the meeting wallowed in unmotivated silence, groups of chattering pokemon breaking up and slowly trickling out of the lobby as the minutes ticked by.

“That will be all. I’ll return to my office to pack, if anyone needs me.” Haxorus turned, tail scraping across the floor with enough weight to leave jagged white scratches in the stone. He stomped back up the stairs.

The guild did not settle easily into the announcement. Brute seemed nearly catatonic—sitting in a chair and staring at the ceiling, the rest sat with concentrated expressions. As Solder scanned the faces of the remaining pokemon, an air of worry etched into their features. Even Landy showed hints, scratching at the button nose at the end of his blue muzzle, eyes scanning the air as if reading.

Larcen didn’t fare much better.

“You okay? Something you want to talk about?” Solder said. Larcen didn’t answer, but he tilted his head and fixed Solder with a flat stare over his yellow collar.

“Yeah, I’ll talk. Let’s just take a mission or somethin’. I need to get some air. Ah… exciting morning, though. Right?” Larcen got off the couch and waved Solder along behind him. He hit him with a smile, but his energy seemed slow to return.

Larcen led them through the maze of furniture and up to a rack of hooks nailed into a wooden post. He took one of the leather satchels, yanked open the flap and took out a dented brown canteen before throwing the strap over his shoulder. With a few adjustments, the bag rested on his hip. He took a second to uncap the canteen and take a swig.

What was in the flask got answered very quickly—Larcen scrunched up his face and shook his head like he’d just smelled a dead body.

“That’s some strong water,” Solder said.

“It’s ah… pinap juice. Kinda gross when it’s warm. Here, take one.”

For a second Solder thought he’d get his own canteen, but instead Larcen unhooked another bag and tossed it to him. It hit his chest with a thump. Empty. Well, at least he had something to keep his possessions in if he ever got any.

“You want to talk?” Solder pushed.

Larcen smacked his lips. He took a deep breath, then wilted like a dying flower.

“Yeah. I guess you’re wondering what the big deal is.”

Solder nodded.

“Bastaya’s kinda right, I guess. Zazz discovered the Seafolk ruins in the middle of nowhere and came right to Haxorus, so he must’ve told the guilds and they got him to close off the ruins; big guilds’ll want to be the first to explore. Then they’ll turn it into a historical site or a spelunking area or somethin’…” Larcen busied himself by sorting through his bag, maybe just to keep himself from fidgeting. “But they need to develop it first, y’know? Build some stuff in the valley so travellers can make the journey, bring their guild system over here. Fix our guild. Whatever.”

Oh.

“Are They really that ah… prestigious?”

“Sure.” Larcen shrugged. “Treebow saved the world once.”

It was the type of comment that took a while to process. Solder heard it, it bounced around his head for a second, then it slapped him in the face.

“What? How?”

“I dunno. It was before I was born, probably like three decades ago when a group of pokemon stopped mystery dungeons taking over the continent. So, yeah. There’s a pretty high bar.” Larcen stuck his paw in the air, high above his head. “Like, this high. We couldn’t make it if we tried. And that’s only if they don’t sack everyone immediately.”

Solder wished he could say something to that. Despite how casually he talked about it, Larcen’s distress was obvious. He wasn’t smiling, for one—and his tails were dragging limply on the dusty ground. The best he could do was give Larcen a halfhearted pat on the back.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

A disturbing silence reigned for a couple of seconds. Larcen took a swig from his canteen. Solder awkwardly adjusted the bag’s strap around his neck. It smelled antique, somewhat comforting and perennial.

“Let’s just get something to eat and do a mission.”

~ (0) ~

“~about that, big changes are coming. Yes, very, very big changes. A little dragon gagged me—not literally—but you’re in for a treat tomorrow morning. Can’t say why, of course, I guess that would ruin the surprise~ So I’ll just ignore it and move onto more important things, like the weather. For an update on—”

Solder’s first true experience with Bastaya’s radio show confirmed a lot of things. First, that it was possible for so much passive aggressive energy to be crammed into a tiny radio transmitting a tinier imp’s words. Second, that the conflict between him and the guildmaster was very earnest. Almost uncomfortably so.

“Why not just fire them?” Solder said, eyes on the radio. He and Larcen had finished in the guild and wandered to the notice boards in the courtyard outside. The radio sat on a shelf in the guardhouse, chatting away through an open window on their side of the structure.

After the meeting, Solder and Larcen had stopped by the guild’s kitchen—empty, seemingly for a long time based on the dust—and snagged some big, blue fruit from the larder. They were sweet, almost sickly, and the juice matted the fur around Solder’s mouth and chin into sticky tufts. Even a wash from a wet cloth didn’t get it out completely.

Outside, the early morning sun didn’t quite reach into the valley that housed the guild, instead bathing it in a dark shadow that ended in a crisp line of light on the other side of the road, drawn against the cliffs. That and the dew-flecked tall grass brushing against Solder as they idled beneath the notice board left him with a bit of a chill.

“We don’t have a lot of staff,” Larcen responded, toying with his whiskers and combing over the posts on the notice board. “Landy is the closest thing we have to a medic. And Bastaya’s show is super popular in town. Wouldn’t be a good look. Guildmaster has to play nice.”

Solder just hummed and tested Larcen’s reading lessons on the board. No luck. Whatever information he got that morning filtered through his mind like water through a sieve.

“What are you looking for?”

“I want to take you to a mystery dungeon.”

“Sounds terrible.”

“It’s a great place to teach you to fight.”

“Did you hear what I just said?”

Larcen snickered. He tore off a couple leaves of paper off the noticeboard, scrutinized them, then tossed them to the ground.

“You gotta learn sometime, kid. What if that klefki wants to scrap? They don’t look like much, but they can be kinda annoying. ”

Solder disagreed heavily with that; the thought of fighting any of the pokemon he’d seen so far was stupid. But that seemed like something he’d want to keep to himself. Larcen could do all the work.

“I’m a pacifist.”

“I dunno. That letter made you sound pretty cool.” Larcen said, and hit Solder with a side-eye as he tore down another couple notices.

Solder paused. Thoughts of his brother flitted through his mind. His brother. Yet he didn’t feel it, at least not like in the letter. He felt like a ghost walking in someone else’s skin. An imposter. Thinking back to the docks, to when he first saw the reflection of that sharp-eyed quilava in a puddle—did that look like him?

Or maybe he was broken. Solder had spent most of his last few weeks gathering his shattered mind. But brokenness implied fixing.

He felt ill at either idea, a sudden chill washing over him like a wave—the memory of breakfast on his tongue. Torn between running away and leaning into the illusion. So he liked to fight, right?

“I’ll… give it a shot.” Solder sighed. Larcen’s returned wink made him feel marginally better, at least.

“Great! Y’know, the best way to not hurt pokemon is to learn to fight—so you can control yourself.”

Solder blinked.

“That’s kind of wise. For you.”

“Hey, I’ve got like, a thousand anecdotes! I know things! I know a lot of things!”

“Like what?”

“Like how to read.”

Little bastard.

Solder knew the irritating buizel was smirking before he even saw Larcen’s face. He fixed him with a sharp glare. This was not going to be a trend; he wouldn’t allow it. He raked his mind for a comeback, but as he stared past Larcen’s cocky grin, a strange, black mass on top of the guardhouse distracted him. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust in the darkness. Then something flickered and he found himself staring at another pair of eyes—golden and piercing.

“Hello?” He asked. It came out as a whisper.

The black mass stretched out and Solder took a big step back, but as he squinted and his eyes adjusted, he relaxed.

“Don’t mind me,” Veille said, unfolding herself from the shadows.

Turns out Veille had taken to the guardhouse roof as a prime napping spot. She laid on top of it, stretched across the edge like a liquid trying to flow down. Black and blue blended in with the shadows, although the fearsome illusion was ruined somewhat by her sleep-flattened mane showing as she lifted her head to greet them. At this point Larcen noticed her as well.

“What’s… up?” he asked.

“Torturing Auloin—” She yawned.

Solder, very concerned with where that sentence was going, took another step back.

“ —she’s been irritating lately. So I hid. She’ll wonder where I am all day, but she’s too stubborn to search.” She rolled over on the roof, knocking off some dead leaves and letting her star-tipped tail flop over the side.

Solder sighed, caution evaporating.

“How sinister,” he said.

“It’s what endless numbers do to you eventually, I suppose.” Veille glanced at Larcen. “Destroying evidence again, Larcen?”

Larcen paused, dropping a fistfull of notices he’d been holding. He didn’t bother to pick them back up, just leaned closer to the board and hummed a little tune. A gust of wind snatched one up and whisked it over the gatehouse. Veille twisted upside down to watch it go.

“Has he explained the boards to you?”

Solder was a little too busy scrutinising the growing pile of torn notices at Larcen’s feet to respond.

“The board on the other side,” Veille continued, motioning her tail to the other side of the square. A couple stray papers fluttered on two identical boards. “Is for more serious jobs—criminals and such. Or higher paying labour. Not much there, as you can see.” She rolled over, craned her neck over the edge of the gatehouse. She didn’t smile, but there was a curious, childlike air to how she regarded them upside down. “These notices are for petty grievances, low paying work. You know, escort requests, item retrieval, reports of theft. Things of that nature.”

It didn’t take Solder long to connect the dots. Larcen hadn’t stopped combing through notices the whole time and the little pile by his feet grew to an alarming size, like white leaf litter fallen from an autumn tree.

“It’s alright, I know already,” Solder placated. It didn’t seem to help; Larcen snatched a listing from the board with entirely too much force.

“This looks pretty good! Let’s talk to Auloin on the way out, alright?”

Solder didn’t get a chance to react as Larcen brushed past him, scampering straight for the gate, bag thumping against his side. He could only offer Veille a quick word before turning to follow.

“Thanks for making things harder, Veille,” he sassed. She let out something like a purr in response.

“Oh, anytime. I suppose you’re joining the guild? If so, good luck.”

Solder snorted, waved her off and followed in Larcen’s footsteps, meeting up with him again at Auloin’s bush. He prodded Larcen on the shoulder, but the buizel shrugged him off with an uncharacteristic frown and muttered a quick ‘later’.

“Hey, Auloin?” he asked. It remained quiet for a moment, then an invisible power bundled up the branches of the bush and peeled them back. They spread apart like a blooming flower, revealing Auloin to be the stamen.

She sat over her folded legs, scribbling something onto her clipboard. She seemed pristine, somehow—pure white and green without a hair out of place. The only hint she’d moved was the flattened grass to her side.

“What can I help you with?” she asked, still focused entirely on her writing.

“Have you seen a klefki pass by since yesterday? It’s kinda important.”

She considered for a moment, pursing her lips and flipping through pages on her clipboard. She poked a line of runes, hesitated, then flipped through. Forward, then back again.

“No, unfortunately,” she said, “There’s been three this year, emigrating; however, the last one went a month ago.”

“That’s… good. Could you tell if one does, please? I’ll give you…” Larcen tugged his bag open and made a big show of sorting through it, though Solder was sure there wasn’t much in there besides his canteen. He came back out with an empty paw. “A hug? I dunno, I’ll think of something.”

“It’s certainly not going out of my way to do this for you. Data is meant to be used, after all—if not by the guild, then who? I’ll notify you if I come across a klefki.”

She gave a brusque gesture with the tip of her charcoal. Larcen smiled at her, then Solder, who answered with a cross of his fuzzy arms. Larcen’s smile wavered.

“Thanks, Auloin. C’mon, let’s go.” And he stumbled out of the bush, barely avoiding getting caught in the reaching branches.

Solder watched him go,  the buizel wandering down the path a good ways until he realised the Solder wasn’t following. Once he paused enough to glance over his shoulder, he turned and threw up both arms like he was a stranded pokemon signalling for help on a desert island.

Solder sighed, held up a paw, and turned back towards Auloin just in time to catch her rearranging the mass of the bush.

“Thanks,” he said, “Veille’s hiding on top of the gatehouse, by the way.”

Auloin snapped to him and he winced, feeling like he was about to be slapped. He hadn’t seen her eyes much before, but they glowed, an eerie pink energy spilling radiating from them and casting an unnatural glow over her cheeks.

“Oh, is she?” she asked, voice taking on a cold edge. Solder nodded and she directed her power towards the gatehouse. Nothing happened for a few seconds, then a sharp yowl and sudden crash echoed across the valley. “I should’ve figured. For a horrible second, I thought she had abandoned her duties to laze about inside the guild, but oh, the betrayal. I imagine she couldn’t even step across the foyer.” By the time Auloin finished talking, an invisible force dragged Veille from around the corner as if by an invisible hand, her tail leading her limp form across the path and straight through a dense part of the bush. She emerged next to Auloin, eyes wide and mane a nest of branches.

“So you told her, huh?” she asked, pawing a wild bit of mane from her mouth.

“Yup.”

She yawned.

“Fair enough.”

Then the branches slapped shut. Solder stumbled back, hitting the dirt path with a winded grunt. Bits of spit leaves and a harsh vegetal smell followed him down. It was all he could do to stand up, brush himself off and pointedly ignore the sharp scolding coming from the bush.

Larcen eyed the path of flattened grass and displaced dirt with a raised brow.

“So you ratted on her, did ya?” Larcen asked, taking point down the path leading back to town.

“Sure. Partners are supposed to enact petty vengeance, right?”

“Is that advice your dad gave you?” Larcen gave him a quick smirk, his tails whipping into a spin behind him. Solder huffed a hot breath through his nose.

“Are you ever going to shut up about that?”

Larcen ignored him.

“You want to know what my dad told me?” His smirk only grew. “Don’t steal.”

Damn it. Solder kept all his attention on the high-growing bellflowers swaying at the side of the path. He had to bite his cheek to keep from smiling.

“Thanks, Solder.”