Chapter Two: Our House

Solder didn’t know what to expect when he entered the innards of the guild; he could only imagine as he squinted through the transition from the darkness of the hallway into the brightly lit main room.

Luckily, he didn’t have to imagine for very long.

The room was large, a space carved in the mountain that could potentially hold a hundred standing pokemon. Unfortunately, scattered furniture arranged in random circles closed everything in. Couches, chairs, and tables all gathered in their own little groups like opposing cliques, some housing pokemon, but most empty. Everything was further separated by piles of crates and boxes overflowing with random junk or stuffed with paperwork or simply discarded, empty.

There was a space in the corner, beside a wooden doorway, that Solder had to parse for a moment. It seemed to be a massive pile of shattered wood and stone rising out of a sunken hole like bits of broken bone. He bit his tongue as he tried to figure it out; then, in a flash, he got it. It was an arena—a pit where all the members were supposed to gather and sit on sets of sunken stone steps encircling a platform that presenters could stand on. But this one overflowed with broken furniture and more random trash.

He sat there, looking over the disastrous lobby, quirking a single brow and waiting for Larcen’s explanation.

“Soooo… this is the lobby.” Larcen said with a cautious smile. “It’s where we’re supposed to take clients if they wanna talk or a place to wait for help from Guildmaster Haxorus or whoever. Not many pokemon come in here anymore.”

Solder glanced at a particularly rickety stack of boxes that nearly reached the ceiling.

“Is that their choice or yours?”

“Uhh…”

“Nevermind. It’s not as bad as I thought.”

It was worse.

But Solder could keep expression stony and skirt around his disappointment. Still, it wasn’t very promising. Especially when all he’d heard about guilds on the boat were their wonders—their fancy architecture and impossibly hard workers.

Solder sighed. It turned into a groan as he felt his front leg seize up in a cramp, all the day’s walking finally catching up to him.

Really, it’s not like he could complain. Actually, this place seemed perfect for him.

Larcen hummed. Solder hummed.

“So you wanted a room?”

Solder’s body felt like an anchor at those words. His headache never really left, but the simmer raised to a boil. And now—as he was so painfully aware, cursing and shaking his paw—the cramps were setting in.

“Yeah.”

The spring returned to Larcen’s step in an instant.

“Well, follow me!”

With an infuriating amount of energy that made Solder wince, Larcen led them through the maze of boxes and furniture. Right, left, right, right, right, right, wait…

“And here we are!”

They didn’t exit through the wooden entrance to the right side of the room. They didn’t exit through the many sets of stone doors on the other side; instead, they wandered in a tight little circle until they reached a closed cube of couches. They looked well-lived, their cushions lumpy with stuffing, wool blankets draping off them like black waterfalls.

“This is it?”

Larcen chuckled and scratched the back of his head.

“Sorry, kid, we only have three rooms and the office, and all of those are taken. We get to sleep here unless —“

Solder interrupted him by powering through his last spurt of energy, sprinting forward, and leaping over the back of a couch to land with a satisfied whump in the nest of blankets. He melted into the cushions, giving into the instinct to work his way under the blankets and curl into a ball. A wave of bliss washed over him and he sighed into the wool that dampened the noise and light outside. It smelled musty and old, but that was fine.

“‘S fine.” He mumbled, poking his muzzle through the folds to watch Larcen squeeze between two couches and enter the square. “It’s better than the ground. Or the boat.”

“Ha! Fair enough. You still want to join, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Great! I’ll wake you up—”

Solder growled under his breath.

“—oooor I’ll just ahh… wait. Until you wake up. Don’t blame me if the Guildmaster’s office is closed by then, though.”

Solder let out a wide yawn, retreating under his blanket as Larcen settled down on the seat across from him. He felt the crash coming, his remaining energy dripping out of him like blood from a wound. He settled in, letting his eyes flicker shut and the bright lights and muffled ambience fade away.

Maybe the light and noise of the day were what constantly interrupted his sleep, maybe he just had too much to think about, but Solder had a fitful nap. Caught in a cycle of waking up disoriented in a different position that he started, by the fifth time he resigned himself to the waking world.

Still, considering he’d only existed for a couple weeks, he’d never felt better.

Solder stretched on the couch, reaching over his head to crack his back. It left him in slight awe of his own flexibility; by the time he felt the satisfying release of pressure his spine should have broken.

With a wide yawn, he blinked the sleepy tears from his eyes and looked across to the other couch. Larcen still sat there, staring at the ceiling as his tails slapped at his ankles.

“How long have I been sleeping?”

Larcen blinked. He looked back down and hit Solder with a grin.

“You’re awake! Thank the ocean, it’s been fifteen years!”

Solder scoffed and rolled his eyes. He picked himself up off the couch and craned his neck over the top, searching for the entrance. Through the holes in a fishing net stretched between two stacks of boxes, sunlight still streamed into the courtyard. Solder turned back around and settled into the couch again.

“You just been sitting there? Don’t you have something better to do?”

“No,” Larcen grumbled, “Are you still tired? I thought you’d be friendlier after a nap.”

“I’m friendly,” Solder shot back in his signature, unimpressed monotone, “I’m always friendly.”

Larcen squinted and scratched at his whiskers, giving Solder one long searching look before he gave up and flopped back-first onto his couch. Solder let him sit for a while in the quiet bustle of the lobby. He caught the leafy sound of flipping pages and gleaned across the room. Some blue, bipedal cat pokemon sat between a stack of books across the room, apparently ignorant of them.

“You alright?” Solder finally asked.

“Yeah. I’ve been thinking.”

“Really? Thinking?” Solder smiled, unable to help himself. It was an easy setup, to be fair.

“Oh, haha, very funny; you’re a riot. But, oh wait, it wasn’t me who—“ Larcen glanced at Solder, hesitating a moment as they locked eyes. He gasped. “You’re smiling!”

Solder screwed his face into a frown.

“What?”

“I thought you’d just be grumpy and boring all the time, but you smiled!”

“That was a smirk.”

“Nah, liar. I won you over with my charm, didn’t I?” Larcen smiled wider, staring at him with such intent it made Solder squirm

“Whatever. Who cares? You had a thought, huh? About what?”

Larcen’s expression lingered for another moment before it dissolved.

“I guess I sort of forgot how sucky this place was. I live here, so when you came in with that look on your face, I was like: ‘Wow! We’re a disaster, huh?” Larcen laughed, but it sounded hollow.

“It can be… cleaned up.”

That was technically true.

“Nah, it’s not about that.” Larcen said, “Well, look at me. Or Auloin and Veille, who never set foot in here.”

“I thought you said they were guild members.”

“They are, I guess they got their own place and now they keep to themselves. Y’know, they rarely come to meetings, just sit out there and do… whatever it is they do. And do you see him over there?” Larcen peeked over his couch and pointed to the blue, bipedal cat Solder caught reading earlier. Solder hummed in confirmation. “That’s Landy, the meowstic; he’s a psychic, too. But… ah… don’t talk to him, he’s nuts. Everyone here is nuts, too, but he’s the worst.”

“I can hear you,” the meowstic called out from across the room. His voice was low and cold, enough to make Solder pause before trying to parse his words. It didn’t seem like Larcen held the same reservations.

“Yeah, so?”

“I find it fascinating to watch you justify your own fear to me. So I’m ‘nuts’, yes? Ignoring the antiquated term, I’m not unstable, you just have issues to work out with psychics.” He flipped a page with force. It was only now, as Solder watched, that he realised Landy’s paw never touched the book.

“Oh, yeah? Then why do I like Auloin? Not like that, I mean, but… y’know—”

“Because she’s useful to you.” Replied Landy, as if on instinct. He turned to Solder. “You, firestarter.You’re Larcen’s friend, correct?”

Solder, cautious and intimately aware that question was rhetorical, nodded.

“Try not to let him influence you. We share a very neutral level of respect since we’ve only just met, but that drains quickly around the worst of us.”

With that note, Landy’s eyes glowed blue and he cast his arm aside, flinging the book across the room in a fit of violent, fluttering, pages. Larcen yelped, ducking just in time to avoid it.

Without a noise or a twitch of the whiskers to betray any emotion, Landy got up and padded out of the room, the door opening, then closing behind him without a touch.

Larcen waited a while, peeking over the couch until Landy’s steps stopped echoing through the room.

“He seemed charming.”

Larcen huffed and wrenched his glare away from the door.

“Yeah, he’s like Auloin if she hated everyone.” He sunk a paw into a nearby cushion. “Ugh, now I’m grumpy. Let’s just get you signed up. Maybe after we can do a mission or somethin’ before it gets dark.”

The buizel waved Solder behind him and sauntered to a door—one on the opposite side that Landy exited. On the other side, a set of carved stone steps led up, up, around a corner and out of sight. More lamps embedded themselves into the walls and cast a warm light through the narrow passage.

As the duo climbed the stairs, Solder noticed how good he felt. In his mind, he should be aching, stiff and sore from before his nap, but he could hop up the stairs with ease. Even catching up to Larcen presented no problems despite the buizel refusing to wait or pause between his chattering.

Eventually, they passed an offshoot hallway and the stone steps became wood. Solder’s first step brought an alarming creak, his weight shifting the board beneath his paws. As he gasped, sure it would break, he caught a whiff of fresh air—clean and slightly salty, a harsh contrast to the aged, musty air in the base. But the board held and not a dozen steps after, he realised where the fresh air came from.

A wide, open window stretched across the right side of the passage, the wooden staircase revealed as a built-in addition to the cliff. More importantly was the view. Solder couldn’t hold in a gasp as he took it in. It revealed the stretching, emerald planes of tall grass blowing in the wind, only interrupted by stacked cliffs. Solder could trace the roads, the pokemon that travelled along them drifting like blood cells. He could see the entire city now and it was both bigger and smaller than he thought—less spread out, but denser, taller, those bird-perches standing like a stripped forest. If he squinted, Solder thought he could see the boats bobbing on the sparkling waves.

“Woah…” Solder gasped, leaning halfway out the window and catching a cool breeze in his fur. He shivered. Larcen chuckled and patted him on the back.

“Yeah, pretty sweet, isn’t it? Every time some boring inner-continent pokemon come pokin’ around, complaining and wondering why anyone stays here, I show them this and they shut up.” He shot Solder a grin. “You haven’t even seen it at night yet. I’ll show you later”

And oh, Solder would hold him to that.

He returned the smile—thankfully with no comment this time—and continued up the staircase.

“And the guildmaster gets his office up here, can you believe that? Unfair.”

The passage ended in a quaint little antechamber, two log benches and some wild vines sandwiching one large door.

“Don’t tell him about the—” Solder tapped his head a couple times. “You know.”

“Eh, I wasn’t planning to—I’ll do most of the talking so don’t worry about seeming like dead weight. Besides, he likes me. You’ll get in fine!”

Larcen shot Solder a wink and he struggled not to roll his eyes; somehow, he doubted the buizel would have trouble talking. And Solder was less concerned with that and more concerned with keeping it a last-minute reveal. Honestly, telling Larcen might’ve been a mistake.

Without a knock, Larcen swung the door inwards, revealing the guildmaster’s office.

The office was tidy and contained—a marked difference from the lobby. A large desk sat in the middle of it and the walls were all lined with shelves of knick knacks: Giant pearls and jars of odd somethings and, to Solder’s faint horror, a collection of skulls stared at him from across the room. Naturally, the opposite wall was taken up by another window with another beautiful view.

Solder wanted to keep exploring the oddities, but the pokemon on the other side of the desk sucked his attention away. Guildmaster Haxorus, he assumed, was a massive, hulking lizard whose mere tail dwarfed Solder’s entire body. He looked covered in moss-green armour and had a massive axe jutting from his mouth. Solder froze, holding his breath at what appeared to be blood staining the axe.

“Hey! How’s it goin’, Guildmaster? Brute?”

At first, Solder winced as Haxorus shifted his attention from his desk to them, thinking Larcen insulted the massive, obviously dangerous creature, but only then did he notice the other creature beside him. It was fully green, maybe half Haxorus’ height, and much more slender. What appeared to be a pair of translucent red goggles rested on its muzzle and a set of sharp, membranous wings twitched behind it.

Dragon? 

It was the first thing that came to mind, at least.

“Larcen? I told you not to barge in without knocking. What’s so important you need me right now?” His voice rumbled lowly, from deep in his chest and Solder clenched his teeth as he felt it hit him, even from across the room.

“Solder,” Larcen said, ignoring the glares both dragons sent him, “meet Guilmaster Haxorus and Brute, the flygon. He’s the guildmaster’s assistant or whatever.” As Larcen motioned to him, Brute started, blushing faintly. “Now, since I got your attention, Solder—“

“Wait,” Haxorus interrupted, holding up a single, massive claw, “ It’s Solder, correct?”

Solder, confused, ignored the way Larcen spluttered beside him. He nodded in agreement, then winced as the guildmaster grumbled and traced his axe with a claw.

“Yes, I believe we got your brother’s letter. I’m glad you made it safely, too; I know from experience how hard the journey can be, especially for embers such as yourself.” He smiled. Or, he tried to. It seemed more like a grimace with that axe in his mouth. “ In any case, we’re glad to have you, even if only for the time being—your father and I have known each other for a very, very long time, so doing his sons a favour was no problem for me.” He chuckled good-naturedly.

If Haxorus said anything else, Solder didn’t hear it. His mind filled with hot static. It broke, thoughts snapping like a string pulled too tight. Still, he forced a smile—tight, way too tight—and laughed with enough force to hurt his lungs. Larcen gave him a wary glance as he toyed with his whiskers.

Father? Brother? What? He had a brother? There, out the window and very, very far away, on some island or continent or wherever, his family… existed. And that was enough. It should be enough.

“Letter— where’s the letter? Can I see— ah… sorry, I just…” Solder took a deep breath, fighting through the white noise. Calming himself. “I’d really like to see it.”

“Brute?”

“I’ll find it right away, sir.”

Brute leaned down and began pulling open drawers one at a time, sorting through stacks of paper until he found his goal with a sharp aha! He stretched out his arm, presenting the paper. Solder snatched it with shaking paws. He unfolded it, then began to read…

…all those illegible, scratchy runes.

Right. Can’t read.

So he pretended, staring blankly at the paper for nearly a minute. A little voice in his head screamed all the while and he felt his breath heat up again.

“I think you’d like this, Larcen.”

“Huh? Oh, nah, not really.”

“It’s a great letter and you should definitely read it.”

“It’s probably just stupid, sappy stuff. I’m not interested.”

“Just fucking read it.” Solder snapped, letting a tendril of flame escape his mouth and lick at the edge of the letter. He shoved the paper into Larcen’s muzzle. The buizel winced and shot him a bewildered look, but a moment of hoping they could share thoughts and the buizel’s mouth formed a small ‘o’.

“Oh! Right, I ah… your brother! You talked so much about him and I… I love him—  I’d love to meet him, I’m a big fan! Haha!”

“You’re pushing it.” Solder sighed, brutally aware of how the dragons stared at them—like a freak show which, if he was being frank, wasn’t far off. Larcen made a big show of thumping his chest and clearing his throat. For no good reason, naturally. At least he read the note seriously.

“To Guildmaster Haxorus,

I have to thank you once again for the offer. Despite your friendship with our father, you’ve never met us before and, although he’d never tell you this, I think he got a little teary-eyed at your response. Or maybe it was both his sons leaving.

Solder’s already gone ahead. I shouldn’t be surprised, seems he got most of his personality from dad. But you’ll probably get along fine with him. Ha! That is, if he even stops at your guild first. I told him to take some time to rest, but he’s never been able to sit in one place long and I doubt a boat ride would be enough to lay him out.

In more serious news, the storms have gotten worse in our port and the boat I was supposed to take is in the dry dock for repairs. Good thing the sailors are in a hurry otherwise it’d be there for months. As of right now, it should only take a week or so, so you can expect me in a few more.

If Solder reaches you, please try to keep him out of fights. I’ve heard about embers’ reputation in Seafolk town and I don’t want to break him out of jail first thing off the dock.

Thanks again,

Cauter.”

Solder mulled it over. He’d get to meet his brother soon—and wasn’t that the strangest concept? Still, he felt the burn of shame spread from his throat and through his cheeks. It wasn’t so much the guilt of not knowing his own brother, really he felt mostly nervous about that. And he had no memories to stew over anyway. There was nothing to do about it, therefore no guilt.

At least he could tell himself that.

But really, that ending, the caution about fights, got to him most. That wasn’t him, was it? He looked down his muzzle, at his paws, and felt the warmth of fire still lingering in his throat. He couldn’t fight. Most importantly, he didn’t want to. He was just as likely to throw himself out the guildmaster’s window than fight any of the monsters he’d seen.

Yet his brother thought otherwise. It made sense, and then it didn’t. Something nagged at him, but he couldn’t quite place it. Still, he could do nothing but wait. He sighed, tamped down the guilt with everything else simmering inside, and took the letter back from Larcen.

Haxorus and Brute still watched from the sidelines.

“Well, now that you’ve satisfied whatever curiosity you had, I believe I interrupted you.”

Both Larcen and Solder shrugged simultaneously.

“Nah,” said Larcen, “he was just gonna… join.”

“Join? Our guild? I thought you’d only be here temporarily.” An alarmed rumble layered his voice.

All eyes turned to Solder. He had no good answer for them.

“That’s what I meant. I just… didn’t want to sit around and do nothing. Figured I’d do some work around here while I recover from the trip. Besides, you guys need whatever help you can get.”

“Well, you read the letter, you’re welcome here anytime. And it would be unwise of me to turn down free labour.”

“Free?”

Haxorus paused long enough for Solder to fear he’d pissed him off. Then with a hearty chuckle, Haxorus slapped a claw on his desk. It rattled under his weight and knocked a pen to the floor. Brute yelped; he dove, catching it before it hit the ground. A misty, wistful look kept the guildmaster oblivious.

“You really do remind me of your father. In case of payment, it’s a good thing you got here before I left. You’ll get paid per job, of course, so it’s not strictly necessary for me to handle your coin, but if it goes through us we can more accurately monitor our income and our fees. I can get you set up with Brute while I’m gone. With a temporary contract, of course.”

Brute perked up from behind the desk.

“Sir? Y-you’re leaving? You said you’re leaving,  right, sir? For how long? Oh, um, I’m sorry, it’s just…” He trailed off, staring into the space between Solder and Larcen. Solder could see his jaw clench beneath his scales, eyes dilating to pinpricks.

Haxorus spared him a soft, knowing glance.

“It seems I forgot to tell you.”

“No, no. Nonono. It’s not that, I-I mean…”

Haxorus turned back to Solder.

“Sorry, you two. I meant to make this part of an announcement tomorrow morning, but I suppose I should’ve told Brute earlier. I suggest you leave us alone for now. As for Solder, you seem acquainted with Larcen so I’m sure he’d be willing to show you around and help you with anything else you may need. Feel free to ask me any pertinent questions tomorrow, before I leave.”

With a grim smile that really showed off the contours of his blades, Haxorus shooed them off. They stumbled out of the office and let the door creak shut behind them, pushed by the wind.

Solder did not move for several minutes. Not out of a desire to eavesdrop—though he did end up catching an earful of hushed, intense discussion muffled behind the door—but out of thought. He had to sort himself out, kicking around information in his mind until he could open his eyes again and walk down the stairs without fear of falling down them. Most importantly, a nagging thought still remained.

And since Solder waited, Larcen waited too, first trying to strike up conversation (with no response), then staring at the view out the window, then tying his tails into knots.

It was out the window, on finally spotting the boats that It hit Solder like a rock. The strings in his mind started slowly braiding themselves together again…

“I never told her my name,” he said, enunciating with painful clarity.

Larcen had lain down on the staircase and he craned his neck up, catching a full view of Solder’s chin. He raised a brow at Solder.

“So? Think I did, maybe. Wait, who is this?”

…the left string folds over the middle…

“No, I mean… I made it up. On the boat, I came up with Solder then.” Solder squinted, staring at the glistening waves of the harbour through the window. He recalled… waking up, the bruises and rocking pulsing through his body. He had no name, back then. While he slumped in bed, he and a crewmate talked.

“You probably just remembered it. It’s like, ingrained.”

But that still didn’t sit right. Solder screwed his nose up in thought, trying to recall the exact details. He’d cracked open his eyes in bed, focusing through the mucous and fever and meeting the keyhole-shaped smile on Klefki’s face. She’d brought a bucket of fresh water to drink and clean himself off. Every time she visited, they shot through a round of names.

It took two days. Calm waters let Solder sit up. He tried to nibble at a giant blue fruit, but the sweetness mixed horribly with the bitter taste in his mouth. Klefki was there. She cleared her throat and it sounded like wind chimes.

… the right string folds over the middle. Then left, then right over and over again.

…well, how’s about Solder? It’s a strong name, you know…

“It wasn’t me!” Solder shouted, too loud—the voices stopped whispering in the office. His heart hammered away in his chest, beating like fists on a drum. “Klefki—one of the sailors—suggested it! I just… it connected.”

“A klefki? Weird pokemon to be a sailor. Ah… klefki don’t really have hands. Nothing wrong with that, but you can’t really haul ropes without hands.”

Solder would have kicked himself, but he was too busy staring at the harbor, trying to pick out the ship he came in on from the others. No luck, they all looked like dead leaves from this distance. Larcen joined him in silence.

“She must know me.”

Larcen nodded vigorously.

“What’s the boat’s name?” He asked.

“The Amarinthine.”

Solder did one final pass of the harbour. He and Larcen shared a silent, knowing glance.

In perfect sync, they scrambled down the stairs.

~ (0) ~

Seafolk harbour at evening: sketchy, eerie, still miserably wet.

In any case, it couldn’t quell the rush of Solder’s heart as he pounded down the docks, nipping at Larcen’s heels. They’d sprinted the whole way, delirious and panting—twisting around corners and skidding down the slick cobblestone streets. Solder barely remembered the way but, luckily, Larcen took the lead. He kept up despite his own reservations—enough that they made it before the sun touched the horizon.

They scanned over each two-mast ship—the schooners, based on Larcen translating Solder’s description—picking up names until they cursed and moved on. Most were empty husks waiting for their crew to return, but a few had just disembarked in the harsh light of the distant lighthouse, spilling pokemon onto the docks. No dice.

Then, in a brief spark of recognition, Solder spotted the bench he’d rested on that morning, now struck by sunlight and carrying a small group of pokemon. A penguin, otter and what looked like an overgrown crustacean lounged in the fading light, passing around some sort of pipe. Solder spared them a glance that was returned with a waggle of the pipe between the otter’s lips.

“Should… be here.” Solder said, padding to a stop. The memory of running still ached in his bones, pounding in time with his panting as he blearily scanned the boats nearby. But looking out into the harbour, the dock he came in on lay empty.

It took him a painful minute to realise the Amarinthine had disappeared.

Solder felt like he’d popped, flopping to the ground and dulled to the painful chill of soaking wooden boards pressing against his belly. He groaned and rolled over, head in paws half out of disappointment, half from the adrenaline crash. Larcen crouched beside him, paws on knees.

“All this way… for nothing,” he said between gasping breaths. He lifted himself up, shading his eyes with a paw as he scrutinised stray boats floating near the jutting islands a little further out.

Solder, finally aware of his wet fur, grimaced and crawled to his feet. A grunt sounded behind him and he turned to the grizzled face of the otter. He rubbed at the stiff scruff of fur around his neck and hit them with a grin filled with missing teeth. It seemed edgy, if friendly. A warning.

“Wat’re you boys lookin’ fer? Nothin’ wrong, I hope.”

Solder took a moment to catch his breath.

“A ship. The Amarinthine? Have you seen it?”

“Dunno,” he said, turning to his crewmates, “we’re docked beside it, yeah?” He got a round of nods in return. The penguin beside him took the pipe from his beak and tapped it out on the edge of the bench.

“They’ve gone. This morning, not too soon after docking.”

Solder groaned and turned back to the sea. So they’d missed the boat after all. And as much as tried to scan the horizon in case it still floated out there, his fading hope told him he wouldn’t be able to swim there even if he found it.

“Did you see a klefki?” Larcen chimed in. The otter pursed his lips, whiskers twitching in the breeze.

“Aye. Think so. Hard ta miss, must’ve been off th’ ship. Anyone seen ‘er?”

A shake from the lobster-creature, a nod from the penguin.

“Seen her come down,” he said, voice frail, “didn’t see her come back up. Didn’t see her on the docks again. Y’know, if she comes here, she must’ve a reason. There’re better ports up th’ west coast if yer lookin’ fer a trip to th’ cities.”

Solder felt the swell of hope wash over him again. There was a chance. Even if he had to search the stacks of Seafolk, there was a chance. He shared a fleeting glance with Larcen and a brief spark told him they’d had a similar thought.

“Hey! Thanks, guys,” Larcen said,  breaking away from the connection and striding towards the sailors. At first, they were weary, drawing up their arms and shifting in their seats. That is, until Larcen shook their hands. One at a time, he took an arm, yanked it up and down once, then moved on, finishing with a long uncomfortable hug for the penguin. Solder shared a bemused look with him, who sneered and smoothed his ruffled feathers as soon as the buizel broke away.

With a final wave, Larcen hooked Solder’s arm and dragged him away from the sailors and into the nearest alley, ducking back into the main road before Solder could react.

“Are you always that touchy with strangers?”

“Hey, you’ve met me. I’m just friendly.”

Larcen smiled at him. Widely, but Solder could see his whiskers twitch. He could feel how his arm jittered under his own. Then he spotted Larcen’s other paw clenched tightly in a fist, hiding shyly beside him. A polished black stick stuck out between the crook of his fist.

“What’s that?”

Larcen’s smile dropped as he followed Solder’s gaze. He sighed. In resignation, maybe. Then he presented the sailor’s shiny black pipe between his fingers.

Solder could tell the buizel expected some sort of outburst, but really he just stared dumbly at his own reflection on the surface of the pipe, his soft features twisting into a confused scowl..

“How? Why? It’s just a dirty pipe.”

There was a moment of silence. The sun finally passed the horizon. As Solder finally started to feel the chill of night, Larcen tried to shrug it off.

“It’s fun.”

Solder let the sound of waves crashing against the dock fill the space between them. Larcen squirmed beneath it.

“Look, don’t worry about it. See?” He tossed it, flinging it behind him like it was nothing. It clattered across the cobblestones and came to a rest with some other trash, in a pile of dead leaves. “That’s not important. What about this klefki, huh?”

Solder was tempted to stand his ground, to force his way past Larcen’s smile and scratch at whatever was actually going on. But at the end of the day, klefki was more important.

“Fine,” he sighed, “how do we know she’s still in Seafolk?”

“Well there’s only one road out. Aside from the boats, obviously, but if she went back on the boat we’d never find her.”

Solder hummed. The logic made sense, but he couldn’t help but get caught on the mountains around Seafolk—or, their fading silhouettes as the sun disappeared.

“What about through the mountains?”

“Nah. Seafolk is shut in by mystery dungeons, might as well just walk through the valley.”

Oh, gods, did he even want to know?

“Umm…”

Larcen seemed to sense his confusion. He took the opportunity to goad Solder into following him back up the street, passing a couple of pokemon chatting in their arched doorways or putting out lanterns in their windows. They were settling in for the night, and Solder took the last-minute opportunity to watch. If life was kind, he’d have spotted Klefki in the first one, but…

Yeah. No.

“Dungeons are … well, Auloin calls them ‘anomalies’, like breaks space and time and yadda yadda…” He clapped his paws together and mouthed along to them. “You go in one place, get spit out another, hours later than you expect. I can show you one someday, if you want.”

“Why would anyone want to see that?” Solder scowled. Larcen shot back a mocking scow of his own, but he couldn’t hold it for more than a second.

“Because they’re weird and fun and weird, fun things are… ah… weird.” Larcen pursed his lips and looked up. “And good. Y’know, I think that sailor had a point. Why come here unless you have business in Seafolk?”

“I don’t know. Why did I come here?”

“Sounded like you came here to see your dad’s friend. I dunno, I only met you this morning.”

Solder wilted, hating how much he resembled that sentiment.

“Hey! Chin up, kid! Auloin’s a creepy weirdo that keeps track of the pokemon coming in and out, so we’ll just check with her, and you can look around the city without worrying.”

Solder should probably be more cynical—It’s not like Seafolk was a small city, and Auloin wasn’t omnipotent as far as he knew—but Larcen’s smile had quickly grown on him over the course of the day and he found it catching on. He threw back a wink. It felt jerky and awkward, but it got Larcen to chuckle, at least.

“You think she spends all day in that bush?”

“Maybe. She talks about setting up ‘psychic triggers’ that tell her when pokemon come and go, so probably not.”

“Well, her weird obsession will help us, at least. Shame to be anyone else.”

Larcen let out a quiet giggle. Then they wandered. At first, it seemed like their path led back up the hill, in the direction of the guild, but eventually Solder realised that neither of them were leading, really. He turned left, Larcen took another left and all of a sudden they were back on the dock; if Solder dared to creep to the edge of the dock, he could peer around the corner and see the sailors still chatting. They were alone, now. The ships were sleeping in the bay and more and more lights flickered off in the rickety windows overlooking the ocean.

They turned around again, committed to doing nothing for a couple more hours. Naturally, Larcen filled the silence with chatter while Solder scanned the faces of pokemon around him, shamelessly peering over window sills for a telltale glint or metallic jangle.

Eventually, they got tired and decided to sit down on someone’s front porch.

“Wanna get some food? I’ll pay,” Larcen said, swishing his tails through a pile of dust and watching a group of pokemon side-eye them from a bench across the street.

A little farther down, a little nook on the corner was still lit. Solder could see a line of stools and tables through the open door. It was too far to tell, but if he sniffed, Solder could catch the whiff of something sweet.

Right on cue, his stomach rumbled. He nearly jumped, so used to the nausea and lack of appetite from the ship that he hadn’t wanted to eat anything for days.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem! I think I’ve been here before, it’s pretty good.”

As they turned, Solder gave one last glance into an empty room across the street. As if it could sense him, the shutters rattled shut a moment later.

Solder found himself fairly content in the face of the shutters. He shouldn’t be, really, since his situation hasn’t changed all that much. But he had something to work towards—which was infinitely better than nothing—and the longer he spent off the boat, the more normal he felt. Food seemed enticing now, new smells and tastes an actual joy instead of another reason for his stomach to revolt.

He trailed behind Larcen as the buizel barged through the restaurant’s doorway.

There’s a reason to stay, at least.