Chapter Six: Lock and Klefki

Seafolk’s alleys were almost a relief compared to the docks. Cramped, piled with nets and traps and other old fishing equipment, lurking under the shade of the buildings and towering platforms jutting from the roofs, really, they weren’t that inviting.

But the bay wasn’t getting another visit from Solder if he could help it.

He must have looked like a lunatic walking around the docks, sidling alongside the seafront buildings and sending nervous looks out to sea whenever a wave crested the dock and splashed against the stone. Honestly, taking a minute to slide into the spaces between buildings was a great relief from the docks. He didn’t get much trouble, thankfully, and the alleys weren’t the shady crime dens he expected. Mostly, they were too open, enough that any passing pokemon knew what was going on in them with just a glance.

And in a rare stroke of luck, Solder’s search hit on something quickly.

It started with a blink. A flash of purple at the end of some shady valley between a boathouse and a row of apartments. He paused, climbing onto a doorstep and lifting himself to two feet to peer over a stack of chipped bricks and rain-soaked furniture. It vanished around the corner almost as soon as he saw it, but he did see it. He clambered down the steps and into the alley, shivering as the shade washed over him. Grit clung to his fur in the muddy, sand-piled edges of the buildings but he just grimaced and bore it as he snuck around the refuse.

But it didn’t seem like anything was there. He blinked, looked over his shoulder, back to the docks, then around the corner into the darker passages further into the mass of buildings. Nothing.

He huffed. But just as he turned, a clattering sounded from further in. He snapped to it, watching a tin can roll into view.

Not suspicious. Sure. He figured letting himself be known would probably be a good idea.

“Hello?” He asked, edging closer, craning his neck out for a better view. The can stopped rolling, seemingly the only thing that had heard him.

Still nothing. He waited a second, brows raised, then shrugged. Oh, well. There’s—

Something sharp. Cold and solid resting against his neck. He hardly even noticed the claw until he tried to turn and felt it dig into his windpipe. It’s wild how aware you become with a claw riding your adam’s apple—Solder had never heard his heartbeat pounding so loudly.

“Let’s take this a bit deeper in, eh?”

Without much to say, Solder gave a shaky nod and let himself be dragged into the darker recesses of the alley. He didn’t get much to look at—just the fading light of the docks and the faint glint of claw against his neck. The smooth press of scales settled against his back. And the voice rang a familiar bell in his mind.

The grip only lessened once they were fully out of sight.

“You’ve been hitting every alley by the harbour. Someone tell you where to find me?”

Solder just stared down a stain on the far wall, thoughts racing through his head too fast to voice them. Then, just as quickly as it came, the claw drew away, leaving nothing but a phantom pressure where it was.

“Oh. You’re just the new kid.”

The instant the claw disappeared, Solder threw himself away from his attacker, scrambling to shove himself against the wall and out of reach. He sucked sharp breaths through his teeth, eyes bugging from the pressure. He got a good look, at least. Another lizard lurked at the corner, blocking his escape. He looked nearly identical to Unico—same coiled tail, same head crest, even the same wrinkles lining his eyes. They only differed in colour. While Unico was a lush green, this one had stoney purple scales. The shade made him seem to be covered in pebbles.

“So who told you?” he asked, voice a low drawl. “Nah, not Unico. Landy? Does he know where I hang? Yeah, like he’d tell you.”

This must be Soleiro. Unico had made such an impression it was almost hard to shake off the image as Solder watched his twin, but at the same time Soleiro didn’t seem like a pokemon who had ever smiled, even sarcastically—a far cry from Unico’s manic grins.

“Why… do you want to know? Solder finally choked out, rubbing his throat to relieve the pressure.

“Are you listening? I bet it was Bastaya, huh? I’ll have to get him back for that.”

Solder paused, trying to search for an out. Honestly, now that he’s found Soleiro, he’d prefer to be surveying the streets again. But Soleiro sat right in the middle of his path out, and Solder didn’t want to take his chances sprinting into the maze behind him. He had to entertain the kecleon. Unfortunately.

“You’re looking for something,” Soleiro said. As he took a couple steps forward, Solder took the same back. “Nobody ever taps my back unless they want something. You want to ask or should I guess?”

Solder worked his jaw to say something, but he couldn’t dredge his thoughts for anything coherent before Soleiro cut in

“There’s a certain klefki you’re looking for, eh? Not many klefki out here, don’t know why anyone would start at seafolk.” Despite sounding teasing, Soleiro had all the enthusiasm of a corpse.

They share a blink.

“You know,” Solder said, caution creeping into his voice.

“I’ve heard some things. Here and there. Some pokemon like to talk a lot, is all.”

But that didn’t really mean anything. Solder cocked his head, trying to figure out the kecleon’s angle—where their knowledge started and ended, but nothing came from their staring match. The faint buzz of adrenaline still shook him, but the promise of klefki kept him in the alley. He tried to straighten his back and push up against the wall for a bit of confidence. Not like Soleiro seemed impressed.

“Tell me where she is.”

“Have you met the mayor? If you haven’t, that’s good. He’d hate you,” Soleio said, waving off Solder’s question with a limp hand’ “He’s started cracking down on… stuff recently, so I’ve been taking odd jobs. Course, it’s always odd when someone comes begging for a place to hide. She even got it for free. If you know what everybody wants, where they are and what they’re doing, you can get away with anything, eh?”

Solder clicked his tongue. “Just tell me where she is.”

“She doesn’t have anything you want.”

“You don’t know that. Or me. You’re fucking with me.”

For the first time, something different crossed Soleiro’s features. Some mix of a sneer and a squint. He shrugged.

“I guess not. Sure, I’ll tell you.”

All of a sudden Solder was back on his haunches. Nothing in his tiny life had gone well so far; this seemed far too easy. But what could he do? Say no?

“You’ll just… sell her out like that?”

“She gets what she paid for.”

Solder matched his sneer.  The more he talked to Soleiro, the more difficult it was to choose which kecleon sibling he’d rather not have to talk to. Maybe he just hated everyone. Shaking off his melodrama and the faint greasy feeling settling over him, Solder gave a tight-lipped nod.

“There’s an abandoned house up in the hills, you walk right before the valley to the guild and you’ll find it in a copse of trees a kilo or so out. Pretty hard to find if you don’t know where to look. You could’ve been searching for months.”

Soleiro picket at the scales on his palm, this odd, listless air sneaking into his voice like he’d gone all in and lost.

Solder recognized that tone. He sighed “What do you want for it?”

As quick as it came, it fled. “Good. You’re quick. Just a favour. Collection. With interest.”

“I’m not going to kill anyone for you.”

Soleiro snorted. “If I wanted someone dead, I’d kill them myself. Or hire someone with the guts.”

Comforting.

“Don’t worry about it, too late to renege anyway. We talk more, I’ll find your limits eventually. I’ll come back with an option you can’t say no to.” Soleiro continued.

So, not much better.

After finishing, and with a satisfied nod, he moved from the middle of the alley and settled into a corner—leaning into the mass of an ivy climbing up the wall. Like he’d granted permission for Solder to leave.

Which Solder reluctantly took—edging around the far corner, not daring to take his eyes off the kecleon for a second.

Unfortunately, it seemed Soleiro still had something to say.

“You ever read The King of Clear Waters? Oh, sorry, who am I talking to? You ever had someone read it to you?”

Solder froze. He knew. He wasn’t bluffing. He’d thought all the vaugeries meant Soleiro was just screwing with him, but he had to have known. And what was that look? A sneer? Some suppressed pain? It was jagged and awful on his face, looking more like a wound than an expression.

“… but those who look in the pond for ripples exhibit an ability to envision something greater. It’s not for us. Neither does it exist on the walls of our king. It’s a great piece. I think you’d find a bit of yourself in it.”

Solder scoffed, not even bothering to play his game.

“You knew. You weren’t bluffing.”

“People talk. What, you don’t remember seeing me around?”

Remember? What the fuck did he think?

“What a stupid question.”

“I guess.” Soleiro shrugged, letting the tendrils of vines fall over his shoulders. Then he… vanished. At first, Solder blinked, thinking he’d sunk back into the mass of plants. But no, he simply evaporated, nothing left of him except the rustling of leaves, the clicking of claws against stone and one last smear of purple rounding the far corner of the alley, just at the edge of Solder’s vision.

Solder smacked his lips, mouth suddenly very dry. A couple nervous sparks escaped from his back. He had to reign himself in before slowly inching backwards out of the alley and back into the streets.

Then everything was back to normal. Pokemon passed back and forth, the ocean exploded into his vision and drowned his thoughts of Soleiro.

But those thoughts still bubbled from the bottom. Little questions streamed up, eroding what little confidence Solder had.

Soleiro had talked to klefki. No way he knew anything about Solder otherwise. But that just made Solder wonder what the kecleon had found. It seemed like he didn’t want Solder to talk to her, but it’s not like there was any attempt to stop him.

Solder sighed, rubbing his temples between two paws.

Only one way to find out.

~(0)~

True to Soleiro’s word, Solder never would’ve found the house on his own stuffed as it was into its own little corner at the base of the cliffs round town. It looked like a decades-old hurricane victim, tilting dangerously to one side, windows blown out and whatever material used for the roof long since peeled off and scattered. The only thing holding it up was the rows of trees it leaned against, leaves spreading out to shelter it from the blazing sun and reducing it to a green blur from the distance. Even as Solder reached it, he took several minutes to parse the walls from the forest around it.

Doubtful that the klefki took shelter there. Solder would rather sleep on a park bench, himself.

But he did his due diligence. The wind spurred him on, down the slope, rustling the leaves around him and hiding the crunching of his steps on fallen branches. He crept around the house, doing a full circle. He never dared to get close but a quick glance through skewed windows showed him a flickering light—a candle, maybe: something unsteady but warm.

Then he reached the door. It, too, sat on a slant. A crack split it, large enough to feel the wind but not to see through. Should he knock? Why bother?

Solder shrugged. Without any fanfare, he shoved through the door with his shoulder, a splintery, cracking sound following it as it slammed into the wall and spat him inside. He landed on all fours (yes, on purpose. Definitely) and let the tension in his chest spark a mane of fire across his back.

He heard her before he saw her. A sharp cry; the familiar jingle of keys shaking against each other. He snapped to the corner of the room. There: she huddled in the slanted corner of the room, hovering over her bedsheets and rucksack and the ashy remains of a campfire.

But as Solder crouched low to the ground, staring up at the wide eyes of klefki like a predator waiting in the bushes, he recognized her.

Words fled his mind. He hesitated.

“Y-you,” she chimed, voice ethereal, prodding the soft parts of his mind. She seemed to share his hesitance. “ Oh, goodness gracious, it’s just Solder! I— uhm… how have you been settling in, sunshine? I, well, I’ve heard you’ve been looking for me?”

Solder just realised he’d never experienced knowing someone before—having distinct memories of them sitting beside his bed, speaking softly to distract him from his own nausea. He’d spent a whole week with her, which he couldn’t pretend was a lot, but it was something. And now, here she was. Real like in his memory. Her appearance struck him. stupid. A fire lit under his fur.

“You…” He sputtered, caught between fleeing and rushing forward.

He lurched forward. He only made a few, awkward steps, but it drew a worried whimper from Klefki. She backed further into the corner, the bulb of her head turning to the window across the room.

“Don’t,” Solder said.

She froze. The keys hanging off her loop swung under their own momentum. She’d found her escape. And Solder wouldn’t be able to sprint across the room in time to tackle her. He doubted she’d stay frozen for long.

“I didn’t come alone.” Solder lied. “Soleiro’s waiting outside. Don’t even try it.”

That got her. All attention shifted to him.

“W-what can I help you with?”

“You know me. You knew me.”

“No, no, no, look I—”

Total garbage. Solder didn’t even need to hear her half-mumbled excuse. He took another couple steps forward, letting his flames spill out, the heat lifting the leaves above him. She squeaked, dipping lower to the ground until her keys scraped the floor.

“No. Shut up. Let me get this out. Guess who got a letter from his brother? And guess who addressed me by name? Now, take a swing at who told me my name first when even I didn’t know?”

She didn’t need to answer, of course, but she still turned left, then right, searching as if anybody else was there.

“M-me.”

Solder waited for her to continue. Whether for an answer or another excuse, he didn’t know, but it became clear quickly she wouldn’t. Solder grit his teeth, his last threads of patience snapping.

“How do you know me?”

She continued to look. And sink. And look, jerking back and forward, desperate for someone to step in. Her breathing shuddered.

“I-I-I’m—”

With a great inhale and a heave, she wailed, pitching backward. Her flat black eyes narrowed, but no tears came. Still, her metallic jingling shifting into something harsh. It echoed painfully through the room, vibrating through Solder’s bones.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t— I didn’t know what to do! You were hurt— and then you said you couldn’t remember a thing and it was just too cruel to leave you like that, so, oh, goodness, even though Linch told me not to, I had to tell you your name at least! Please don’t hurt me! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, sorry, sorry! Please!”

The sobbing continued. Klefki seemed pitiful lying in the corner, as discarded as the house she’d taken shelter in. That awful metallic wailing ground against Solder’s eardrums.

 The whining didn’t help. He jabbed a paw at her. “Don’t talk if you aren’t going to tell me what happened. I don’t feel sorry for you—I just want to know who I am.”

That certainly didn’t stop her wailing. She kept going. For minutes on end, leaving Solder’s paw to float aimlessly. His glare wavered until it broke. What’s the point? Times like these he wished he looked like one of those monsters stomping down the docks. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t even tell if she’d broken out of fear or guilt.

His anger settled like sediment at the bottom of a river. But it still waited to be stirred up again. As the crying mellowed into sniffling and hiccups, Solder took a few cautious steps forward and sat in front of Klefki, paws open and resting on his lap.

He sighed. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk.”

For a while, it didn’t seem like anything would change. They sat in the snivelling and sounds of wind rustling through the leaves. Brief spears of light piercing through the foliage and scattered over them. Klefki eventually calmed—enough to lift herself off the ground and face Solder.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll— I’ll talk.”

Finally. Solder let out a deep breath through his nose. All this anticipation had built up inside him. He leaned in a bit, clutching his paws together so they didn’t shake.

“Then start. What do you know about me?”

“We met on the boat. Linch and I—she’s the feraligatr, you must remember her.”

He nodded. Linch was that hulking blue alligator that prowled around the deck, steadfastly avoiding him. Whenever it stormed and she took shelter in the cabin with them, she sat on her bench in the far corner, her head tilted, eyes so narrowed she looked asleep. If she ever passed by his bed, she growled so lowly he could almost mistake it for the creaking of the boat.

He couldn’t say he was a fan.

“She and I—we were uhm… smuggled into Seafolk. We met you on the boat. Oh, everything was great for a few days, but you found out somehow and started yelling at her about it. And— and—” She paused, trying to raise herself higher only to slump back down. “Oh, you two had a big, big fight below deck, with all the shouting and the crewmates scrambling; I was so, so scared. She almost drowned you! You were… different when you woke up. Linch wanted me not to tell you anything, but that seemed so cruel…”

“Like leaving someone with no memories alone in a town they don’t know?” He scoffed. “Whatever. I’m not trying to be your friend. Where’s Linch? I need to find out what she did to me.”

“I-I just told you: she drowned you…”

“Right, but— Okay. Fine. Just tell me where she is.”

That got a nervous jingle out of her. Her… eyes widened, shifting back to the window.

“She’s— oh, have you heard of the ruins that opened up beneath the city?”

“Yes.”

“She was very, very interested once she heard about them. She kept trying to drag me along, but I was a little nervous so she went off on her own to investigate. Then… she… disappeared.”

All of a sudden Solder felt the familiar shock of water rushing over him, smothering and frigid. He shivered.

“What?”

“I swear, I checked all the entrances, but they were blocked off or way, way too small for her to get in so she obviously didn’t go in and, I suppose, she could be waiting or went inland to find some of her buddies, but she didn’t tell me anything so now I’m stuck her waiting for her and, oh, I’ve been so worried…”

And that’s that. Solder felt his vision tunnel, narrowing to a point between her eyes. He slumped back.

“So she could be anywhere. Literally anywhere in the whole fucking world.”

“Not— not really…”

The awful current continued to run through Solder, kicking sediment off the bottom of his river. He felty cloudy, each grain of dirt stuck in his fur dug into his skin, itching and cutting. Klefki must have seen it in the way he grit his teeth. She took a deep breath, voice shaky.

“She doesn’t know you. We only met on the ship. I don’t— I don’t think she can help you.”

“She did something to me, she had to.”

“She drowned you! I told you! Please, believe me, she’s just a normal feraligatr. It was an accident!”

An accident.

“An accident?”

An accident.

That’s it. He felt the crushing weight of it on his chest as he leaned back. He slammed his head against the floor, but that didn’t matter. It gave him time to search the leaves above as if the answer would fall from the sky.

Had he even considered that before? Had he considered anything or did he just try not to think about it and hope some random Klefki would have all the answers for him?

“I-I’m sorry,” Klefki mumbled, “I wish I could help more, but— maybe it’s time for me to leave. I’ll just… uhm…”

“Just leave. I don’t want to see you anymore.”

“O-oh. Alright.”

He couldn’t tell if she actually ever left. He stared up, hoping to catch a glimpse of the sun again. All he heard was the jingling of her keys. The sliding of something leather and fabric rubbing against each other. Then, nothing.

He waited. And waited, spread eagle on the floor, emotions spiking in him until he forced himself to breath. Slow and deliberate.

“I just want to know who I am.”

A gasp sounded from behind him. He tilted his head back—the upside-down form of Klefki floated in the doorway. Sunlight gleamed behind her, forcing her metal to shine. She almost looked like a halo.

“I thought you were brave,” She mumbled. “The way you tried to stand up to Linch even though she was so, so much bigger than you.”

Solder shook his head. “Or stupid. Just a stupid pile of garbage. And now he has a screwed up brain. Useless.”

“Oh…”

“Weren’t you leaving?”

It was hard to see with the wash of light, one moment Klefki shone in the doorway, the next she was gone, leaving just a faint impression behind until Solder blinked it away. He turned back to the leaves.

He wished this creaky, old house would just collapse on him already. He wished it would rain. He’d be miserable, sick and numb, that familiar tightness clutching his chest and the frigid cold smothering his fire. At least then he’d know the reason..

He’d wait for whatever came first.

~(0)~

 By the time Solder got back to the guild the sun had begun to sink into the mountains. That seemed ideal, apparently, because even from down the road Solder could spot a handful of Pokémon lingering outside the guild. Unico and Bastaya picked through the bulletins, Auloin had escaped her bush and relaxed on a chair beside the gatehouse, Veille snoozing at her feet. He caught the tail end of Larcen heading back inside. Even Landy stood, deep in thought, in the shade of the mountain.

Solder’d cooled down a bit since meeting Klefki. Or maybe that was the wrong word. He’d… flatlined? Normalised? Sure, normalised. He’d realised that if he had no expectations for anything he’d never be disappointed again. He could sit back and let the numbness take over. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so irritated all the time.

But he hated himself for that, too. Every time he imagined a conversation with that flat-faced quilava in his reflection he winced. Imagine getting flatter. Worse. No thanks. At least now he could look other Pokémon in the eyes without wanting to torch them.

He saved his concern for what Larcen was doing. And food; his stomach ached as he crested the hill towards the gatehouse, walking past Auloin.

“Ah, Solder. I’ve got something for you.”

Solder blinked, turning to the gardevoir. Her one leg crossed over the other and she leafed through a stack of papers in her hand. Veille snored, body twisting to fit underneath her chair.

“What?” Solder didn’t mean for the bitter note to slip into his tone, but he wasn’t in a great mood for talking. Still, she was so engrossed in her papers she didn’t notice.

“Veille?”

Auloin prodded the luxray with a foot. She rumbled something unintelligible and uncurled like a sprouting fern. Those golden eyes pierced through Solder as they connected. Then she hit him with an aching yawn.

“Good morning,” she said.

Solder spared a quick glance at the moon peeking over the other side of the valley.

“Sure.”

“It’s morning somewhere. What can I do for you, Auloin?”

“Could you fetch the item for him, Please? The one that Klefki left for him? Oh, Solder, the Klefki you were looking for stopped by to give you something. I imagine she’s left by now. There certainly wasn’t anything I could do—ethically or legally—to stop her, so I apologise for that.”

“That’s fine. I talked to her already.”

“Well I apologise for not being of assistance in finding her.”

“Whatever. It’s not like I got anywhere with her.” Solder spat, biting his tongue.

Auloin must have felt his frustration; the trace of her finger slowed across a page on her lap, paused, then folded itself back in her hand. She gave an understanding hum.

“Veille?”

“Don’t be impatient, I’m awake,” the luxray said. She stretched out, shaking her mane to whip it back into shape. “Follow me, Solder. Come see our house.”

For a minute Solder thought she’d walk all the way back into town, but she turned back towards the guild, took a sharp right, and led him to a door at the other end of the gatehouse. The door swung open under the weight of her shoulder and she padded inside, swishing her tail to wave Solder in.

Solder had never seen the inside of the gatehouse. Not with the road-facing windows always being shuddered. To be honest, it was never really interesting enough to think about—if it was part of the guild, he expected it to be a disaster, too.

So when entering it felt like walking into someone’s bedroom, he did a double take.

The shudders were closed, but a lit fireplace stood in a stone alcove in the corner. It bathed the room in a warm glow. Two desks rested under the windows—one tall, another half-size, presumably for Veille. The far wall was filled with rows of cabinets that, while cluttered, still seemed organised, stacks of paper tied with twine and placed in evenly-arranged baskets. A sleeping mat spread out in the far corner, rucksacks and bags lined up between it and the fireplace—a big enough space for two.

It looked Cozy. Surprisingly cozy. Solder wondered why Veille seemed to sleep everywhere but the bed if this is what her room was like. He wouldn’t mind crashing here every once in a while. Maybe he and Larcen could storm the place and take it for themselves.

“You live here? I thought the guild owned it.”

“We don’t own it, we squat,” Veille said, regarding Solder with a faint grin, “better than being homeless, I suppose. Now, where’d she put that bag?”

Veille skimmed the back of the room, then wandered over to the cabinets and began pulling drawers open with her mouth. Solder just sat in the entrance and stared at the sway of the luxray’s tail, ears pinned against his head.

Homeless? The duo struck Solder as many things, but homeless wasn’t one of them. He voiced the same thought out loud.

She shrugged, face buried in a drawer. “We’ve saved some money. But a psychic and electric type in Seafolk? Not a comfortable proposition for most.” Despite seeming flippant, an edge lined her voice. “The napping scene isn’t there, either. It’s either the streets or the parks, both too noisy. Perhaps homeless makes it sound unappealing, but we like it out here in the mountains.”

Solder didn’t have anything to say to that; he just watched her go about her business. Yet the thought stuck with him—he’d met a good number of guild pokemon so far, but they all seemed… uncomfortable with Seafolk in some way. He hadn’t yet heard a good thing about it and the more he went into Seafolk, the harder it was to visualize someone like Landy or Brute chatting with sellers in the market or lounging on the docks.

Solder took a step back. It felt like a fog had cleared from his mind, but the landscape behind it was no less blurry.

“Why are you here?” he asked, “Why is anyone here? What’s the point of this guild?”

Veille popped her head out of the drawer and flashed him a wide smile. Solder couldn’t help shivering at the gleam of her teeth.

“Have you ever wondered what I do most of the day?”

“Sleep.”

Veille let out something between a purr and a chuckle. “I sort through job requests from the morning mail. Used to be, pokemon would come up here and post, but that didn’t last long. The proximity… well, how about I read you a selection of rejected letters?.”

Before he could answer, Veille dove into the bin beside her cabinet and pulled out a stack of letters, spreading them across the floor with her paws. She squinted, nose inches from the text.

“Ah, here: Stop wasting our money! That’s a classic, shows up every day, You did good work for my cousin, but I don’t want to see those psychics walking around in the streets where my kids play, oh and this next one’s just a suicide mission to the Green Bay mystery dungeon. They want morning dew, but if you enter the dungeon early to collect, the tides will rise while you’re inside and you’ll drown.”

Solder grimaced, wondering what other opinions made their way into the garbage. Suddenly, he felt very nervous taking the requests of random strangers.

If Veille shared his discomfort, she didn’t show. She pushed her papers back in a neat little pile and slid them into the trash again.

She continued “I almost feel sorry for Haxorus sometimes, even if he’s insufferable. Rejected by the mayor from Seafolk, but he had pull inland. Money, too. The mayor couldn’t say no, so he stuck us out here. Oh, he’s tried to embrace his outcast status. Unfortunately, the fringe pokemon our guild attracts aren’t always fringe in decent or sensible ways, yet this is where they collect because they can’t in Seafolk—and Seafolk is not unique. So which is it? Is the guild a dysfunctional mess because of its own intrinsic failures, or was it simply set up that way?”

Veille paused, staring deep into the firelight across the room. Resolute. She knew the answer. Solder had a feeling he knew, too.

He cleared his throat. “What’s your damage, then?”

That got a chuckle, deep and rumbling. The first he’d heard from her.

“I suppose you can know. Perhaps I’m more lazy than most luxray, but did you know we’re one of the few electric species with no need to actively discharge electricity?” She punctuated the thought with a quick discharge, sending sparks scattering across her fur. “Long hours of sleep are healthy for us. Unfortunately, in an integrated society, it’s difficult to be healthy and compete with other, more active, species—especially other electric types.”

She shrugged, but Solder could see her claws slide out, glinting in the light as they dug into the wood floor.

“I won’t bore you with all my trauma. In summary, Auloin is the only pokemon satisfied with my existence. I love her, and I know she loves me back because despite me not having much to offer, her askings are not greater than I can give. So I follow her. Where she is, I’m home.”

Maybe she saw the unspoken question on Solder’s lips, because she continued.

“And for some reason I couldn’t say, Auloin loves it here. Maybe it’s the history; she inhabited an ecstatic work ethic after learning about the ruins.”

And that was that. Solder frowned. Maybe he struggled to relate—as much as he liked Larcen, he wouldn’t follow him literally anywhere—but he also couldn’t help being a little disappointed by the explanation. He struggled to dredge up a thought that didn’t make him itch under his fur—like, what could he say to that? He was happy to share the moment with Veille, though. To bear witness. They hadn’t talked much, but she seemed alright. Willing to tolerate him, at least.

The ambient crackling of the fire spoke for the room, Veille giving him a lazy smile until he got uncomfortable and looked away.

“Ah,” Veille said after a while, turning to snap onto something across the room, “Turns out I didn’t need to search so hard, the bag was just over there.” She padded over to her bedroll, picking up a shoulder bag laying in… plain… sight.

There’s no way she missed that entering the room. Solder raised his brows as she came back over, dropping the bag at his feet.

“Oops. I suppose I was just wasting time. I apologize for that. Also for—well, that klefki said maybe a little more than she meant. I’m sorry about your memories.”

Solder paused, caught on her last sentence. A sudden swell of irritation caught him.

Oh, that overgrown keychain better hope she doesn’t meet him again.

“You… know?”

She hummed an affirmative. “Not that it bothers me. This whole time, I considered lecturing you about trails—something Auloin says a lot. That someone’s trails are the most revealing; where you’ve come from determines where you are and where you’re going. Perhaps you don’t want to hear it, but it’s all the help I can offer.”

Solder brushed off her kindness, slumping down on his haunches with a tired sigh. If she was right about one thing, it’s that he didn’t want to hear it. Not after a day of thinking the same and being proven wrong.

“Again, I apologise. But I don’t bring this up for no reason.” She pawed the bag closer to him, sliding it between his legs.

Solder stared dully at it—some sort of old leather satchel. Stained bronze clasps held the straps on and capped the edges of each pocket. The leather was stuffed and lumpy and stretched to the point of cracking, sending little spiderwebs across it like a shattered window. And the soot—Solder almost refused to touch it with all the black smears coating it but a cursory wipe revealed it to be baked in.

He held it, flipped it over, felt the weight in his paws. Something warm tingled in him as he slipped the strap over his shoulder. It settled nicely, sitting in a comfortable nook above his hip. Turning to stare over his shoulder, the sootmarks seemed so much more deliberate, matching perfectly with the vents on his back, like just another part of his body. He petted it. Drew his claws across the seams and felt the gaps where some had snapped. He breathed. Settled.

“This… is mine. This is mine. I own this.”

“I figured so. At least that’s what klefki told me.”

But Solder was so engrossed the words barely reached him. He brought it back into his lap and it settled with some sharp clinking. It held something. He shook it again just to make sure.

“This must be why Auloin’s so fascinated by the ruins,” Veille said.

Solder broke his concentration to give her a questioning look.

“It’s the stuff they left behind; the objects ancient pokemon used to impress upon their world. How do we piece these things together? Who were those pokemon? What does that say about us now? In your case, you exist as both the dead civilization and the archeologist.  I suppose you’ve got it rougher than most, but it happens to everyone, eventually—the person we are now dies and leaves us to pick up the pieces. I prefer to live in the present, personally.”

Veille hit him with one last smile. Then it broke out into a yawn.

“I apologize. All this talking exhausted me. I’ll be going back to Auloin.”

Solder nodded numbly, clutching his bag closer and watching her leave the room without another glance.

He wanted to open the bag. Desperately. He wanted to be the archaeologist, but at the same time he wanted to wait. He couldn’t pretend he hadn’t been given clues to who he once was, but… did he like that pokemon? Did he want to be them? Maybe. More than who he was now, probably.

Though as he felt the shifting lumps in his bag and thought on Veille’s words, he realized it wasn’t him who would decide who he used to be. He could only choose if he wanted to follow that.

So Solder was alone. Just him and the fireplace.

~(0)~

“So, you gonna open that thing yet?”

Larcen became Solder’s first priority. It took no time to spot the buizel at the back of the lobby, relaxing on a couch. A new path had been cleared straight across the room, enough that the scuffed stone tiles revealed themselves and Solder didn’t need to weave in and out of castles of trash.

Larcen looked like he’d been working. A coat of white dust dulled the orange of his fur and had certainly not made it any less scruffy than the morning. He looked close to nodding off, whiskers drooping, as Solder approached, but perked right back up again once the quilava threw himself on the seat beside him.

Then Solder explained the bag.

“I don’t know.” He shifted it into his lap, clutching the strap tighter for the brief second it left his hip. “I kind of regret talking to klefki. I guess I have nothing to lose now, though.”

Larcen grinned, leaning into Solder until they were both shoved into the corner of the couch. Solder grumbled, tolerating the sudden weight without the energy to throw him onto the floor.

“C’mon! This isn’t a little exciting for you? Solving The mystery of the missing mind?”

“How long have you been working on that one?”

Larcen shrugged, throwing an arm over Solder in the process. Solder flicked his ear in annoyance as a paw grazed it.

“Eh, Brute bailed on me a little after you left, so I was by myself all day.”

“I can tell.”

Larcen ignored Solder’s venom. “Open it already! This is boring. You’re boring.”

Solder shook his head; he should’ve done this on his own. He grunted and wiggled under Larcen until he got the hint and sat back up, letting Solder turn the bag to face him. He ran his paws over the clasps. With a couple deep breaths and some impatient prodding from Larcen, Solder finally flicked them open.

As the flap slapped against his legs a burst of odour spilled out—something old and woodsy, yet burnt. The smell of a forest fire, maybe. Or the ash left over after a cookout.

Solder took it in. With shaky paws he turned the bag over onto the couch. A pile of assorted junk tumbled out between him and Larcen, landing in a chaotic mess. But it all fit, each item waiting for Solder to appraise it.

He picked through them: a rusty utility knife that he had to pry open with a grunt; a small collection of chain necklaces, melded with bits of gems; a canteen, brush and empty coin purse. Finally, Solder stumbled on a dented metal…. Item. Something square, blooming with distortion and barely holding together between a hinge and flimsy latch. He popped it open with a swipe of his claw.

A photo.

Solder blinked. The photo stared back at him, two quilavas side-by-side, posed in the entrance of some building with an arm each over each other’s shoulders. Two smiles—one skewed and awkward pressed against the other, placed under two pairs of narrowed eyes. The scene drew a warmth over him, like a blanket. A feeling of familiarity like he didn’t experience often. But something drew him back to the photo.

Solder blinked again, returning the squint in the photo. He bit his lip and tried to piece together the static bits of expression with what he remembered of his own face.

“Which one am I?” he asked, holding the photo for Larcen to see. After a moment of silence, he turned.

Larcen stared back open-mouthed.

“You’re kidding, right?”

Solder frowned. He shook his head. Larcen pointed at the one on the right.

“That’s you, for sure. Same pointy face, same posture. And your fur colour’s a shade greener.”

Solder turned his arms over just to confirm; sure enough, very green compared to the dark blue of his… brother. Presumably.

He couldn’t for the life of him figure out how Larcen figured otherwise, though. Solder picked apart his image, tilting his head back and forth as if he could get a better angle. But he never saw what Larcen did.

Maybe it was the smile. Solder tried to copy it, but it slid off his face like oil on ice.

Smiling just didn’t come easily to him.

“Yeah. No, you’re right. I see it,” he responded. He sighed. Then, before they could dwell on it, snapped the case shut and threw it back on the pile.

Larcen took the opportunity to slide back into his personal space.

“Excited to meet your brother? He’s comin’ in what, a week or so?”

Yes. No. Solder had no clue. He wanted to know who he was, but he didn’t want to ruin some innocent pokemon’s relationship. He didn’t want to be someone else to Cauter. Just thinking about it made Solder curl his hind paws, desperate to wrap himself into a cocoon , stuff himself into the crease of the couch and vanish from the world.

He couldn’t. He sniffed, tensing all his muscles. Other thoughts crawled out to bury him, returning him to things he’d put off. Unfinished conversations. All Solder’s cowardice and failure and he still needed to say what he felt to Larcen.

“Solder?”

“I’ll never hurt you again.”

A pause. A beat. Solder held his head so firmly he could feel the muscles bulge, pulse pounding in his ears.

“What?”

“I hurt you yesterday. I meant to say this yesterday, too. I’m never going to hurt you again.”

“Oh, the… argument. umm—”

Solder wanted to turn and look Larcen in the eyes but he barely had enough control to keep his breathing steady.

“–I kinda forgot about that.”

Solder snapped to him. Quickly enough to wrench a muscle in his neck. Larcen shrugged, an odd, uncomfortable tilt to his grin. For a moment, it felt like they were in a void, alone together except for the sound of their breathing.

“I’ll never hu—”

“Stop!” Larcen shouted, paws flying up out of his lap, “Just… okay. I don’t want to hear it anymore. I get it.”

Solder couldn’t tell what had happened. Larcen’s mood cratered for no reason and left him fumbling, his confession smashed to pieces on the cold stone floor.

“What do you mean stop? I’m doing this for you.”

“You can’t keep that promise.”

That really lit something up in Solder. He couldn’t explain where the sudden spark came from except that it fuelled the fire on his back and dented a scowl into his face.

“I’m trying to be honest with you,” he spat, “now you’re calling me out on it. I was sitting on this all day and now—”

Stop. No. Stop it.

“Getting a little upset, huh?”

Larcen’s tone was gentle, but Solder still broke eye contact, shoving himself into the corner of the couch and staring down the barrel of the guild’s entrance as a rising heat spread over his face.

He just needed a moment. Deep breaths—remind himself why he’d tried to make the promise in the first place. He was thankful Larcen gave him some space to level out. Let him preserve some dignity as he rubbed his paws across his muzzle.

“My dad was a drunk.”

What?

Larcen’s words struck Solder. He froze.

“He sailed with a lot of crews—job didn’t matter, just the money. Anything he could get, really, and the sailors ah… weren’t a great influence, I guess. Ha. Drank more whiskey than water, y’know. Anyway, he’d be gone most of the year, get a couple months off to come home and…”

Larcen’s tired sigh washed over them—it sounded like sitting in bed alone, under the creaking of neighbours upstairs and the roar of waves through the open window.

“He’d drink out the house. And all the money he made. He’d… well, you can guess. Then, when it all ran out, he’d come crawlin’ back. Oh, please, I’ll never do it again! I promise! Whatever. Next time would roll around and he’d be back to the shouting and the fighting.”

Larcen paused to take a breath. His voice hitched. Solder turned to him. He seemed like a different pokemon, someone older and smaller, his tails drawn up into his lap, laying peacefully as he combed the dust from them.

“Yesterday I said he thought being in the guild would help me. That’s not true. I’m here because he didn’t know how to deal with me. He only wanted kids so they could grow up and go on benders with him; not that it matters anymore. He’s dead. He hurt me more than anyone ever will, and maybe he really wanted to change, but then he just fucking died.”

Solder had a lot of things he could say to that. None of them were great. These were things he couldn’t help, and every time he tried opening his mouth the smart part of him forced his teeth back down on his tongue.

“I’m really sorry, Larcen,” he mumbled. Finally.

The buizel tried to smile. It didn’t fit with the sheen in his eyes.

“So I don’t want any dumb promises from you. I don’t want apologies. If you say you won’t hurt me, you’ll be hurting me and lying at the same time. What’s the deal, anyway? Where’d this come from?”

“I just… want to do better,” he mumbled, taking his paws off his muzzle. He tried to sit up a little straighter, but his arms shook as he planted them on the couch. He felt like he could break if he stood up too fast. He had to remind himself to be strong.

“Better than what? My dad? That’s not hard.”

“Better than myself. I want to know who I was and be… that. Or better than that. Or something.”

“I dunno, Solder. If you gotta change, that’s fine. Just… do it. Next time you want to tell me about it don’t say anything.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“But I don’t think that matters. A fight is a fight—I’m over it. And you’re you. You’re pretty cool. I like you, I like being around you, I like talking to you.”

Solder felt exhausted. Drained and strung out. Drunk.

But he would stay strong. He’d ignore the closing throat. The wet eyes and wavering frown that threatened to sink him. He’d stay level.

Then he caught a glimpse of Larcen. The buizel returned to what Solder knew of him. In the persistent, stony grey of the guild, Larcen wiped his eyes and shook off sadness and glowed brightly. Solder ached.

He couldn’t do it.

With a swipe of the paw, Solder grabbed his metal picture box and popped it open again.  His own image stared back at him, confident, smiling. As he traced the lines of his face, he sniffled. Struggled to keep his face flat. His ears pinned to his head and the quake moved from his arms and into his face.

“Solder?”

He would keep strong. He would be strong.

“Are you crying?”

He might’ve done it if Solder didn’t feel Larcen’s weight shift closer to him on the couch. If Larcen hadn’t wrapped him in an embrace and Solder found himself shoving his face into the crook of Larcen’s collar and shoulder. Warmth bathed him from all sides.

“What are you doing?” Solder asked. He couldn’t help leaning into Larcen despite himself. “Y-you should be crying. You’re the one with the dead dad.”

Larcen’s chest rumbled against his as he chuckled.

“Eh, it’s okay. You gotta be tired.”

Solder broke. For the first time, he found himself returning the hug, wrapping his arms so tightly around Larcen the buizel’s breaths turned into a weeze. Tears streamed down his muzzle, soaking into his fur.

Why was this happening? Why was he crying?

Solder hiccuped, only clasping harder against the confusing swirl of his emotions. Shame and anger and grief mixed into a nauseous slurry inside him. But he was out. Every time he tried to put himself back together, tried to extract himself from Larcen, he’d feel the same punch in his gut and collapse again.

They stayed like that for a while—Solder only dimly aware of the awkward shuffling of pokemon going in and out of the guild. Eventually, he levelled out. The tears stopped and despite his sore throat, he felt like he could breathe again. Still, he held onto Larcen for longer. His shame won out over everything at the end of the day, so he hid himself against Larcen’s shoulder until he could stand to be seen again.

Unfortunately, it had to happen at some point.

“You alright?”

Solder’s face flushed as he turned away. He wiped his face with his paws. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Larcen hit him with an excited grin before it melted into something more gentle.

“Hey, I cry all the time. Don’t worry about it!”

It didn’t do much to comfort Solder, but he appreciated the effort.

Nobody seemed sure of what to do after that. They rested next to each other on the couch, exhaustion keeping Solder rooted and quiet. Separated from Larcen and with night fully here, he could finally see the pokemon trickling in. Or, he could see them watch him. It didn’t help the shame, but he’d recovered enough to hit back with a flat glare.

“Maybe I’d like to… be better, too.” Larcen broke the silence after a while.  “We can do it together.”

Solder nodded beside him, head feeling like a rock as he bobbed it. He yawned.

“You want to stop stealing?”

“Something like that. Just… can I ask you to keep me in line when we go out together? I can get you back. I’ll just give you a little soak when you start sparking.”

Solder shivered at the thought. “Don’t you dare.”

“Will you do it, though?”

Larcen poked Solder in the ribs. He winced. Turned, greeted by a sincere bob of Larcen’s whiskers, expression turning into something pleading.

In that moment, Solder knew Larcen wanted this. Truly. He saw something in the buizel that reminded him of himself—a spark of desperation behind the eyes, eager to get out.

“Yes.”

Solder tried to smile, which Larcen returned.

“You hungry? I’ll go get us something to eat before bed.”

Solder nodded again and off Larcen went, leaving Solder alone to relax, limp on the couch. The air seemed a little cleaner, the guild a little less cluttered. He opened his photo one last time before shoving all his stuff back into his shoulderbag.

He couldn’t help the shame, though. It latched onto him like a parasite, swimming through his body. Even now, feeling as clear as he’d ever felt, the parasite found something new to latch onto.

With thoughts of his brother and his old life popping up again, he wondered how much Larcen would hurt once he had to leave.

In a moment of weakness, Solder crouched behind the back of the couch, peering into the buzzing light of the larder as Larcen threw some ingredients in a bowl, humming a jaunty tune as the meal came together. The image made Solder forget the thought, if only for a second and remember himself.

He didn’t know what to think of himself anymore. Of any of the praise he’d received. The criticism—mostly from himself, as well. He could take these thoughts, transmute them, turn them into something tangible and hold them up to the light. He could shock himself with the way they changed colour. Drop them to the floor and hope to find answers from them.

No answers came. Solder just hid behind a couch until Larcen noticed and gave him a wave.

Maybe it wasn’t Larcen he should worry about.

But he knew that already, didn’t he?