Showstopper
by konkonocturneSalute and Pyrite lay flat on the grass, peering over a steep hill. They were just barely outside of the town walls, past the fields full of farms and cottages, staring down an old, abandoned building at total odds with its rural surroundings. Though its paint was stripping and its roof was damaged and fading, it stood strong, defiantly catching the moon’s glow to look grand and flashy. A dream that never quite died.
“That’s the one,” Pyrite whispered. “His very favorite of the theatres he had built. It’s why he chose to settle down in Epiphany after my parents were gone.”
“He’d really just go there right away?” Salute asked.
“Oh yeah, he wouldn’t waste a second. ‘sides, we were cooped up in his house. If he wasn’t gonna take Albata to the Chief, where else would he go?”
Salute nodded, a small huff escaping his nostrils as he realized Zazel had lied to his face without a second thought.
“So,” he asked, getting to the big question. “What’s the plan?”
“Honestly? I’m just gonna go right in.” Pyrite’s appearance changed, the form of a Lycanroc being painted over the Zoroark. “Like this, though. Maybe I can pull the legal card. Official guard business, y’know?”
Pyrite turned to look straight at Salute, making a gesture with his recently unbound arms. “But why’d you come? You remember that he’s a law-abiding citizen, right?”
Salute breathed in deep, two heads looking around as if the reason was just lying around here somewhere.
“I screwed up,” the Zweilous grumbled. “It’s my fault he has Albata right now.”
“Yeah, you’ve got that right. Seriously, you just handed her over to him?”
Salute’s cheeks began to burn up. “Actually, he teleported her from me the moment I didn’t say no….”
“You mean he grabbed her. It’s sleight of hand. Misdirection.”
“Yeah, that. Either way, I’m responsible for this. So I’ll make it right.”
Pyrite raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t sound like your normal brand of justice to me.”
Salute straightened his back in response. “Doesn’t matter. I know what’s right and wrong. If it feels like justice, then it is.
“Besides.” Salute couldn’t help but give a fanged smirk. “I’m not letting you go in without me. If you do, you’ll mess up everything.”
Pyrite shrugged, giving a smirk of his own. “Well played. We’ll need to do this right, then. You’re working with a criminal now. If Zazel figures that out, he’ll screw you over, especially if we win. He’s a sore loser, so he’ll tattle to the Chief just to spite you.”
“So, if I want to stay on the Guard, we need him to not realize….”
“Not just that, we’ll need him to think you’re on his side. I’ll go in through the front, you sneak in backstage and hang out up above. Assuming this ends in a fight, do whatever you can to trip him up while still staying hidden. When you do need to reveal yourself, you need to act like you’re helping while getting in his way.”
Salute frowned. “Sounds complicated.”
“Nah, trust me.” Pyrite’s smirk grew to a grin. “All you’ve gotta do is act like you hate me. That should be a cinch for you.”
Salute looked back at the theatre with a weak smile. He wasn’t sure how to tell Pyrite that doing that might not be so easy anymore.
“Alright,” he finally responded. “Let’s go.”
“For justice?”
“For justice.”
The catwalk of the theatre was absolutely a safety hazard. It was rusting metal shoved up right against the rafters of the house, both of which were threatening to fall apart at any moment. Salute wasn’t really sure where the term “catwalk” came from. Some sort of weird shortening of Delcatty? Seemed overcomplicated. Why couldn’t there be another term for it?
Salute shook his heads. He needed to focus, especially since balancing up here while remaining inconspicuous was more than a challenge. The aged iron mesh of the floor would creak or groan if he even so much as looked at it wrong. It was bad if he wanted to keep his legs unbroken, and equally detrimental for the far more important task of staying hidden. There were also blinding lights, a series of parabolic mirrors reflecting and focusing the glow of dozens and dozens of lanterns down onto the stage below. It hurt his eyes, and made every step a gamble.
Well, he was in place the best he could be. For now, it was up to Pyrite. At the very least, when it came to “tripping up” Zazel, the stuff up here gave Salute a lot to work with. Waiting for the show to begin, Salute held his breath and stared down at the entrance.
It slammed open, letting a howling wind inside along with the silhouette of a lone Lycanroc. Pyrite stalked down the unlit aisle and its dusty seats, glaring up at the stage as he drew near enough to be bathed in its light.
“Welcome!” boomed Zazel, taking a bow up on stage and tipping his hat. He’d done himself up, wearing a full, eye-catching suit and his favorite bowtie. “I am so glad you could make it. I see that that Zweilous wasn’t so good at his job.”
“No, he was.” Pyrite glanced to the side. Albata was stuck by the curtains stage left, chained to a notch on the floor and wearing some sort of copper collar. His frown deepened as he watched the previously unstoppably determined Zorua sit hunched on the floor without a struggle. “But the Chief agreed that taking her in was top priority. You’ll need to hand her over.”
“Oh, please.” Zazel smiled as he looked down on Pyrite. “I can discern a bluff when I hear it. Even if you were here on Ms. Hiketeria’s orders, this girl is family. This is nothing but a small spat best worked out privately. I won’t be pressing charges, so I’m afraid that she’ll be staying here.”
Pyrite clenched his teeth. The seething hatred emanating from him was strong enough to even make Salute flinch.
“You, on the other hand,” Zazel continued. “Should’ve been facing some consequences right about now. Theft, breaking and entering, and now even attempted kidnapping! Letting you roam among the populace would certainly be a problem. Ms. Hiketeria would never allow it. So, why don’t we cut the foolishness and stop pretending you’re here on her orders, hm? Kókkino? Lýkos? Vráchos? Which of them sent you?”
Pyrite’s illusion faded, shifting his body back into a Zoroark.
“None of them,” he growled. “I’m here for me.”
Zazel gave something between a sigh and a laugh. “Oh, goodness me. And here I was thinking that Argyros had actually managed to make a friend.”
Argyros?
“Don’t call her that!” Pyrite yelled. “It’s Albata now!”
The amused look on Zazel’s face didn’t go away. “Did you not hear me? We’re family.” He brought up both hands, opening them to reveal both the black and white pendants, one in each. “I’ll call her by her real name, not your little fake identities. Honestly, I’m disappointed that I didn’t realize it was you earlier. You intentionally skipped over your parents’ documents, didn’t you, Chr—?”
“You don’t get to use that name!” Pryite’s voice managed to cut through Zazel’s bravado. “Don’t. You. Dare. You of all people don’t have the right to call us by those names. Neither of us are going to listen to you. Not ever again.”
Zazel gave a light chuckle and made both pendants vanish once more. When he opened his hands back up, a copper wire was in one, connected all the way to Albata’s collar.
“We can fix that. All it takes is a little discipline. Your species’ illusions fail when you’re exposed to pain, yes? I’ve found that something of the reverse is true, as well.”
Zazel snapped the wire, sending a spark through it. Pyrite yelped and instinctively reached out, horribly aware of what was about to happen. Not even a second later, an awful crackling sound pierced through the air as Albata keeled over, violently convulsing. Though her mouth opened, no scream came. Instead, what showed her pain was the entire theatre rapidly flashing through every color of the rainbow before locking, each and every feature of the building stuck a different hue.
Zazel hummed, looking around at Albata’s work as the theatre began to fade back to its normal colors. “Wonderful! We’ll need to hammer out the details, but all that will take is some practice. I must thank you for keeping your skills so finely honed. I do hope you’ve enjoyed our dress rehearsal thus far.”
“Y-you…” Pyrite’s whole body trembled as he stomped down the aisle.
“Ah, that’s your cue to exit. I’m afraid you won’t be needed any further. Unless you’d be interested in joining our show, that is.”
“I-I’ll kill you…!” Pyrite was dangerously close to the stage.
“It may be for the best if you were to join, though. After all, that would be quite the load off Argyros’s shoulders, wouldn’t it?”
“I said you don’t get to call her that!” Pyrite leaped at Zazel, fully clearing the stage as dark energy began to seep from his claws, maw, and every other part of him that could be used to maim. He soared through, darkness trailing behind him as he approached his target.
Seeing a hate filled Zoroark going straight for his throat, Zazel grinned. Using a flipper, he slammed a floorboard down, causing the other half to fly up, smacking into Pyrite’s underside and sending him careening far past the Eelektross. He crashed through the curtain backstage, colliding with who knows what in the process.
“My word,” Zazel gloated. “It seems some repairs will be needed first. Perhaps after a little self-defense.”
Pyrite tore through the curtains, lunging for Zazel once more. He hacked at the man with blackened claws, his Night Slashes lingering like rips in the very air. Zazel himself skipped back, twirling and contorting around each attempted attack with glee. Each miss only increased Pyrite’s ferocity. His slashes built up speed until they were no longer of individual sound; a rapid-fire barrage of cuts that were dodged by their target like it was simply a part of his dance.
Snarling, the Zoroark accelerated into a final, two-armed slice, avoided by Zazel with a simple hop backwards. Pyrite made a move to charge back in, only to be zapped midway. Zazel threw his hands forward with snaps, multi-colored electricity shocking Pyrite. Seeking to copy his foe, Zazel performed his showy Thunderbolts repeatedly, laughing out loud as he sent Pyrite staggering backwards.
Pyrite snapped back. Mid stumble, he stomped back down and sent a red-black shockwave from his body. The Dark Pulse wouldn’t be so easily dodged, but Zazel remained jovial, leaning back as he snapped with both hands, a translucent pink barrier forming between them. The Dark Pulse collided with his Light Screen, bouncing off with a glassy clunk all the way up to the ceiling.
It flew right into the catwalk Salute was standing on, splitting part of it and making the whole thing whine ominously as it sagged under his weight. The dragon had to quickly shuffle back to safer ground or risk being dropped. By the time he looked back down, Pyrite was once again being electrocuted. Wait, this is an opportunity!
Salute jumped to the nearest mirror, forgetting about the noise, and used his hind legs like a Mudbray to kick it down.
The falling mirror crashed down right in front of Zazel, its shattering glass taking a Thunderbolt meant for Pyrite. The Eelektross began to look up to Salute, only to be blocked by Pyrite leaping over the new obstacle, landing in a dropkick right on Zazel’s chest. Before he could react or retaliate, Pyrite bounced on back with a green flash, back over the mirror.
Then, just as quickly, another Pyrite bounced on in from the side. Zazel easily sidestepped the falling Zoroark, only for it to smear away, drawing a gasp from the Eelektross as the real Pyrite came in from behind. Pyrite wasted no time, giving a Night Slash to his back and leaving a gnarly tear in his suit. He went in for another, but Zazel slithered off, popping back up a safe distance away.
“Engaging in a bit of trickery, are we?” Zazel’s grin was punctuated with a slight wince. “Finding a proper tailor is such a pain. But let’s focus on more extravagant things. Remember these?”
Zazel reached behind the curtain, fiddling for just a moment before pulling something. Trapezes dropped down, startling Salute as they made the catwalk shift.
Pyrite wasn’t about to wait. He and an illusory clone leaped in to claw Zazel, but the Eelektross launched up, a trail of sparks following him as he flipped onto the frame of the broken mirror. The Zoroarks turned and repeated their assault, but were avoided as Zazel jumped up, latched onto a trapeze and swung away.
Too high to be easily reached, Pyrite had to dismiss his clone and settle for using Dark Pulse, now being dodged by leaps and flips instead of ducks and twirls. Whatever difficulty would have been added by being actively attacked during a trapeze performance didn’t impede Zazel at all, hopping bar to bar as if nothing was wrong.
Pyrite turned and changed targets, aiming for the ropes suspending a trapeze. The Dark Pulse cut through just one, leaving the bar dangling freely. All part of Zazel’s plan. By the time Pyrite looked back to the Eelektross, it was too late. He flew off the trapeze into a dive, his whole body beginning to glint with a white outline during his show of acrobatics.
Acrobatics? Oh no!
Zazel slammed down onto Pyrite with a deafening crack. The floorboards under the Zoroark splintered and crunched as he buckled, leaving him collapsed in what was practically a crater on the stage. Zazel hopped off, floating back down to the ground as he posed victorious, even taking a bow to an invisible audience.
It was an early celebration. Blood trailing down his face, Pyrite staggered back up. He was shaking enough that even standing was nearly catastrophic. He tried to make some sort of illusion, but all he could manage was a momentary distortion of his own battered body. Completely ignoring it, he moved to pounce.
Salute couldn’t watch any longer. He leaped off the catwalk towards the curtain, catching it with his claws. He tore down the thing, ripping it in half and drawing all the attention away from his co-worker. The moment he was close enough to, he jumped off and landed in between Pyrite and Zazel, one head facing each.
“Hey! Um, stop!” he shouted, not sure who it was directed towards.
Zazel readied a Thunderbolt. “Audience participation will not be necessary.”
“I’m here to help!” Salute turned fully to Zazel. “He—” Salute wasn’t good at lying, so he had to find words that were technically truthful. “—can’t be allowed to do this like this!”
Zazel’s smile was promptly replaced by a condescending glare. “I am in no need of help. You may collect your quarry once I am done with my show.”
“But I’m trying to do the right thing!”
Zazel rolled his eyes. “Then stay out of my—gah!” A slash of darkness and blood exploded across Zazel’s chest, Pyrite having leapt over Salute to attack. It left him wide open to a counter, and the attack wasn’t strong enough to prevent one.
“I’ve got it!” Salute announced, swinging a double Headbutt up to Pyrite’s feet. It was a bit rough, but allowed for the dragon to toss the Zoroark backwards, away from the sparking Zazel. Salute suffered a few shocks in the process, but was able to hear Pyrite land safely behind him.
“Out!” Zazel bellowed, pushing Salute aside to pursue Pyrite. The Zoroark readied his claws in response.
Salute had a risky plan. It was also his only plan. He pushed himself in front of Zazel as his muscles began to burn up, feeling an uncontrollable frenzy begin to build in his whole body. It was the first stages of an exceptionally powerful move that had exactly one major drawback: if Pyrite stayed in his sight for too long, Salute would kill him.
As Tyrian purple flames began to pour out from his being, Salute ineffectually lunged for Pyrite, aiming just short of an actual hit. It came dangerously close as Salute’s legs suddenly flexed, his entire body starting to bulk up. The pulsating sensation accelerated his breathing and shattered the rational part of his mind. On instinct, he reared up, claws about to rip Pyrite apart. Blood filled Salute’s eyes, pooling inside with every thundering of his heart in his ears until everything was filtered through a crimson screen. Wait, not yet! Faces straining, body fighting against him, Salute came down, managing to downgrade his swipe to a rough shove. Even restrained, it was enough to send Pyrite back several yards down to the floor.
A feral growl rumbled in Salute’s chest, now dense with muscle. Heat flared in his brains; a sudden scorching headache that made him seethe. Everything burned, and it was suffocating. A Zoroark was in front of him on the ground. Salute wasn’t supposed to rip into this one, but that didn’t make any sense. Eyes twitching, fangs ready, Salute saw as the Zoroark threw an arm out, a small space between them warping. The illusion it managed was no more than a slight distortion of color, a wisp of light that whooshed past Salute. Despite the everything inside of him screaming not to, to stay the course and never take his eyes off his prey, Salute turned to follow the wisp, until he saw an Eelektross behind him.
No. Not an Eelektross.
It was something in his way. Something moving. Nothing should be moving.
“Don’t look at me, you dolt! Turn around and get him!” These words didn’t reach the dragon, lost in the screeching haze that filled his senses. A haze that could only be quelled with death.
The dragon threw his entire body at the moving thing, wanting to crush, gore, and quarter it all at once. He slammed into it and sank his teeth into the first surfaces he could find, desperately searching for blood behind the taste of cloth. He stomped the thing down to the ground to pin it, keep it from escaping, and let out a bestial roar from his still-biting mouths. Even as electricity coursed through and seared his whole body, the dragon readied his claws and jerked his heads, to tear it apart. When something dislodged his fangs, he brought his skulls back down to repeatedly bash the moving thing beneath him until some error began to seize up in his muscles, locking them up. The dragon’s rampage was reduced to small twitches as he was forced off.
“Useless fool!” Zazel screamed. He slammed the back of a fist into Salute’s side, the impact sending the paralyzed Zweilous off the stage and careening into a heap on top of the musty seats. “Using Outrage?! You really are as empty-headed as I thought! Interfere again and you will regret it!”
Salute spasmed in the audience, clarity returning to him slowly, along with control over his body. He was out. Any more, and Zazel would get him kicked out of the Guard. It’s up to you now, Pyrite….
Said Zoroark was crouched down by his sister, feeding her a Sitrus Berry from his bag. The good news was that he didn’t completely fail to pack this morning, as Salute had initially thought. The bad news was that Salute wasn’t that far off. That was the one berry he had, and he’d already burned all his other medical supplies earlier. But it was enough to get the Zorua back to a pained, wheezing consciousness.
Salute could only watch as Zazel broke into a sprint-swim, then sprung up to the trapezes, latching onto the one that had broken. Now a single rope, Zazel swung on it like a vine, dipping down low to rip Pyrite away from Albata by his mane, tossing him to the opposite side of the stage and landing between the two.
“Bothering the crew is exceptionally rude, you know. You really should keep your eyes on the star performer.” Zazel grinned, though his eyes still glared, and it came out twitchy and asymmetrical. Salute had done a number on him, his suit now torn in a dozen places, one of the sleeves barely holding on at the shoulder. His wounds were starting to get serious, but the sparks flying off his body and charring the stage showed that the fight was nowhere near over.
“Bro,” Albata managed to heave out in-between coughs. “The pendant…! G-get the pendants!”
Pyrite dove, narrowly avoiding a blue and yellow Thunderbolt. “Are you kidding?! You’re way more important!”
“Just… just freakin’ trust me!”
“Damn it! Fine!”
Pyrite closed the distance, sending a Dark Pulse as he dashed in. Zazel was forced to pause his shocks for a Light Screen that sent the wave crashing into one of the rafters.
“You want this, now do you?” Zazel seemingly materialized the white pendant in a hand, spinning it around by the strap. He juggled it from hand to hand as Pyrite swiped for it. “I only kept the things because I knew you’d be back for them someday.” Just as Pyrite was about to nab it, Zazel tossed it up and used his hat like a net, catching the pendant and donning both atop his head.
Pyrite snarled and went to smack the hat off Zazel. He was rewarded for his poor focus when Zazel shoved him back with sparking palms, the electricity visibly coursing through the Zoroark’s body as he slid back.
“Oh, too bad!” the Eelektross chided. “Better luck next time! Care to play again?”
Pyrite didn’t even let him finish. He charged back in, giving whirling slashes with enough force to throw his whole body with them. Just as Zazel was getting into the rhythm of dodging, Pyrite grabbed his sleeve and yanked down. It pulled Zazel down low, too surprised at the change in priorities, and allowed the Zoroark to give a Night Slash directly to his hat, tearing it to shreds.
“There, I win! Now where’s the prize, you damn carny?!” Pyrite’s eyes snapped to the pendant, hanging off the back of Zazel’s fin.
Zazel coursed electricity through his arms, breaking Pyrite’s grip. “That was custom made, you know.” Freed, he popped back up while he dipped his fin down, low enough that the pendant almost fell right off. “But by all means, take it!”
The Eelektross’s fin snapped back, flinging the white pendant into the air. Pyrite’s gaze followed it the whole way, head craning straight up as it sailed over him. Salute wanted to yell out and warn his co-worker as he saw Zazel grin, holding a copper wire in his hand. But he could do nothing.
Zazel cracked the wire. There was no time to prepare before the awful sound of Albata being electrocuted overtook everything else in the room. She’d been healed enough that she now had the energy to scream. As she did, the flying pendant slowed, nearly freezing in the air before bursting like a firework into hundreds of illusory copies, showering down upon her brother.
“Sis!” Pyrite ignored the clattering pendants all around him and leaped toward his sister, forgetting entirely that Zazel stood between them until he was grabbed by the leg and slammed back down into the stage.
“There! Now you have lots! I’m just so generous, aren’t I?” Zazel gave a malicious slasher smile, looking nothing at all like the Zoroark held on the ground below him. “Well, go on!” He tightened his grip, digging his claws into Pyrite’s flesh while pure white electricity buzzed all around. “Can’t move? Are you really going to ignore my generous gift, Chr—”
A green flash burst in Zazel’s face, having come from Pyrite’s arm being suddenly jabbed out. The improvised and entirely incorrect usage of U-turn sent the Zororak’s limp body sliding across the stage, poor Pyrite streaking his blood across the polished wood the entire way. Salute took shaky breaths, reminding himself to keep to the plan as he saw Pyrite barely manage to push himself up with a trembling arm, the rest of him lying flat on the ground.
“Oh, boo. You’re no fun.” Zazel brushed himself off while nursing a bruise to his cheek. He strode over and picked up the white pendant while the copies began to fade. “Looks like you lose again. Do you understand now? Do you understand just who is in charge here? You know, ‘Pyrite,’ this all could have been avoided if you weren’t such a spoiled brat. If you’d just been a good boy and done your job back then, Argyros wouldn’t have to take all of this for you. But you simply forced my hand.”
Zazel brought the wire up, showing it off to the downed Zoroark. “I want you to realize that every time I use this, it’s something you could have stopped.”
As Zazel cracked the wire, Pyrite’s feet flashed again, sending his body across the stage once more. Still sliding, he caught the traveling shock of the wire in his teeth, chomping down and using his one good arm to deliver a final Night Slash to the horrid thing, severing the tie even though it meant taking the shock himself. Salute’s heart stopped as he saw tears forming in Pyrite’s eyes, the Zoroark’s only movements being the convulsions of being electrocuted. He couldn’t even let go of the wire that was hurting him.
“Oh, very clever,” Zazel mocked, walking over to Pyrite, fully collapsed and helpless. “You realize I can just pick back up where you cut it, yes? Such a wasted effort. You’re a poor brother.”
It was over. Pyrite was finished, they lost.
No. Salute’s teeth worked into a snarl as he stood straight up. His heart beat strong and fast, but he felt no apprehension. Screw the plan. Screw his job. Screw what Chief Hiketeria might say. If staying true to all of those meant sitting here and watching this, Salute didn’t want any of them.
Zazel lazily kicked Pyrite’s body to the side before bending down to pick up the shortened wire. He put flourish into every bit of the motion, drawing it out as long as possible. All to spite Pyrite? Perhaps he wasn’t so smart after all.
His eyes widened as he heard a sudden movement. Whirling to the audience, he saw as Salute bounced off from a seat, lunging straight for the Eelektross. Zazel staggered back, nearly falling as Salute slid to a stop, a final barrier between him and the siblings.
“And what are you still doing here?” Zazel tapped a flipper as Salute turned to glare at him.
This was his last time doing this, right? Better make it count.
“Zazel,” Salute announced. “You are under arrest!”
“Me? Get those brainless heads of yours checked. Arrest for what? Hurting your feelings?”
“No.”
Salute’s whole body quaked: furious, but focused. He erupted, blasting forward with enough force to leave cracks in the stage far behind him. Both skulls rammed into Zazel’s stomach faster than the man could ever hope to react, sending him gasping and coughing back away from Salute and the people he was protecting.
Zazel sneered as he sprung back up, lightning coursing throughout his whole body as he sent Thunderbolts Salute’s way. Perfect. Salute had been watching Zazel fight the whole time, and his weakness was obvious to the Zweilous. He dashed to the left, then the right, zig-zags narrowly avoiding Zazel’s electricity while closing the distance. But closing the distance meant becoming an easier target, and by the time Salute was nearly in striking range it would be impossible to dodge. How would he avoid getting hit?
Simple. He wouldn’t.
Salute shifted his path and sprinted straight to Zazel. The man gave a forced laugh before throwing both arms into a pure white arc of electricity that blazed across Salute’s foreheads. But Salute didn’t stop. He charged through the Thunderbolt, giving Zazel only enough time for a short gasp before slamming his chest with another double Headbutt.
Zazel was great at dodging, and a shockingly powerful attacker, but he wasn’t experienced enough to do both at the same time. And he’d clearly never encountered an opponent who could take as much of a beating as Salute could. He staggered back, clumsily trying to put as much distance as possible between him and the dragon.
Keep the pressure on. Salute ran in, launching two Dragon Rages at wildly disparate parts of Zazel’s body. The Eelektross panickedly conjured a Light Screen as big as he was to block. The fireballs burst into an indigo cloud on impact, only for the smoke to be swept away by Salute himself jumping up, swinging both heads down in an attack aiming for Zazel’s shoulder. The man squirmed, managing to get far enough for the attack to just graze him, but was put completely off balance.
Never let up. Right as his heads swung down low to the ground, Salute put all his weight on his claws, aimed to the side, and blasted Dragon Rages with as much force as he could. The kickback sent his body whirling, a dragon-shaped buzzsaw of justice, until he used the momentum to slam his heads into Zazel’s side, hitting hard enough to send the man flying.
“Pyrite!” Salute yelled, turning to the downed Zoroark. Pyrite managed to pull his head up enough to prove he was still conscious. Digging into his bag, Salute tossed an Oran Berry over. “Eat, and get back up!”
Salute turned to Zazel, who stumbled and nearly fell while getting back up. “We still have a job to do!”
The Zweilous charged back in, only for Zazel to lift up a sheet from between the floorboards, completely obscuring his own body. Salute wasn’t about to be stopped by something so trivial, continuing his attack as the cloth began to fall, only to go straight through it, failing to make an impact.
After only enough time to look to both his sides, Salute felt a jolt of electricity to his back, turning to find Zazel across the stage. He teleported?!
Salute lunged for Zazel, but the man threw up a cloth and performed his vanishing act once more, managing to get another good shock in once he reappeared. Salute tried staying still and scanning the arena, but every time he took his eyes off the Eelektross, Zazel would show up in a different place after a couple of moments to get a potshot on Salute. How was he supposed to fight someone who could appear anywhere on the stage?
“Salute…!”
Salute snapped his heads to Pyrite, who was standing on trembling legs and had a dribble of Oran juice trailing from his mouth.
“It’s sleight!” he gasped. “All a trick!”
Before he could consider Pyrite’s words, Salute grunted as he was zapped in the wings. He glared back at Zazel, who gave a little wave before disappearing once more.
All a trick. No matter how much it looked like it, Zazel wasn’t teleporting. Being able to teleport was super useful in combat, since it removed any time or effort spent crossing distance, but whatever Zazel was doing couldn’t have that advantage. He had to actually move physically, but how could he get anywhere on stage unseen?
Salute tapped a foot to the floor. No… it couldn’t be that simple, right? But the floorboards did come up easily when Zazel stomped it earlier….
Screw it. Going on instinct. Salute fired a Dragon Rage at Zazel, baiting out the “teleport.” As soon as the cloth began to fall, Salute dipped a head into his bag and used Outrage, bulking up enough to grow two inches in the process. Just as his mind began to lose itself, Salute reared up and stomped straight down with all his might, smashing a hole in the stage and finding purchase on something below. Berserker rage luckily lined up with his logical goals just this once, as he dug his claws into the object and ripped it on out with enough force to fling it across the stage. The moment he turned completely feral, Salute bit down on the first thing he could: the Persim Berry inside his bag. A cold, complex flavor spread across his tongue, like saffron mixed with peppermint, so strangely captivating that his focus was entirely drawn away from the bloodlust Outrage induced.
Now that he was in control again, Salute snapped his heads to Zazel, the object that had been flung out from under the stage. Looked like Salute had grabbed him by the suit. The damaged shoulder specifically, given that a sleeve had been completely torn off and was lying on the floor.
A small glint distracted Salute from Zazel twitchily getting back up. There was something in the sleeve. Weird, what would he even have—? And then it hit him.
Salute dashed off with enough force to hurt himself, beating his wings and doing everything he could to close the distance as soon as possible. He flew by Zazel just as the man was reaching for the item, lunging a head out just an inch further and managing to grab the thing first. Without even stopping, Salute threw the white pendant, which had literally been up Zazel’s sleeve, in the direction of Pyrite, who’d managed to stagger all the way over to Albata.
“Bro! Catch!”
Pyrite whirled around, managing to nab the very edge of the strap as he did, momentum of the pendant causing it to wrap around his paw.
“Got it!” Pyrite turned back to Albata. “Now what?”
“Put it on, duh!”
Though he raised an eyebrow, Pyrite threw on the pendant without hesitation.
Salute couldn’t watch what happened next. In fact, he’d had to tear his eyes away the moment he saw Pyrite catch the pendant, since Zazel hadn’t sat dormant. The man had made a move for the siblings as soon as he was up, but Salute had been beating him back, even though it meant taking a beating himself. His body buzzed with residual electricity, long since having gone numb, but he never stopped fighting.
Zazel snarled as he was pushed away by another of Salute’s Headbutts. “What is wrong with you?! Are you too daft to remember which side you’re supposed to be on?!”
“I’m on the side of jus—!”
“Don’t answer that! Never torture me with your voice again! This is supposed to be my show! My victory!” Lightning tore out from Zazel’s body, multi-colored tendrils raking against everything around him, leaving charred black faults in the floor. “And I won’t have it taken away from me again! Especially not by an insufferable, barely sentient extra like you!”
Salute braced himself for the attack, uncertain if he could continue to withstand it. Hoping it would keep Zazel from using all his power, Salute launched a single Dragon Rage at the raging Eelektross. Would this be enough to distract him?
No. But the thousands of Dragon Rages that suddenly surrounded Zazel would.
“W-what?” Zazel’s electricity petered out as he recoiled from the indigo firestorm that had appeared on all sides of him. Each individual flame began to fly in, forcing Zazel into a desperate dance of dodges to avoid being pelted into submission.
Salute was similarly confused. He was good, but there was no way he was that good. Was this… the true power of justice?
A flash of red brought Salute’s attention to his side. The fact that it came from a familiar Lycanroc caused him to do a double take. “Pyrite” stood there, holding a sign with an arrow and message painted on it.
Over here! it said. While he’s still distracted!
Salute ignored the chaos unfolding around him and ran over to the siblings. Despite his expectations, the real Pyrite was still heavily wounded.
“How are you doing that?” Salute asked.
“No time! Albata’s got an idea!”
“But I thought—”
“Ask freakin’ later!” Albata yelled. “Look, your Dragon Rage does the same damage, no matter your enemy’s defense, right?”
“Yeah, that’s why I still use it!”
Pyrite brought up Albata’s chain as far away from the Zorua as he could.
“Use it on this! Give us a double helping!”
Salute took a step back. “What kind of sense does that—?”
“Just frickin’ do it!”
Whatever. He’d leave the “figuring stuff out” part to someone better suited for it. Readying Dragon Rages in both maws, Salute focused his aim as close as possible on a single link of the chain. He’d have taken more time, but he heard a scream of rage from Zazel behind them. Throwing caution to the wind, Salute blasted the chain, which gave a satisfying, metallic clink! as a link shattered. Albata was finally free!
There was no time to celebrate. Salute whirled around, certain that Zazel wasn’t being distracted any longer.
The Eelektross was tearing towards them, an electric maelstrom trailing behind and decimating the stage in his wake. Just as he was about to slam them, a section of the stage rose up, forming a wall, drawing a yelp from Zazel, and presumably forcing him to stop.
Of course, Salute didn’t like things like walls or certain doom stop him. He jumped through the illusory barrier, taking advantage of Zazel’s surprise to Headbutt him back once more. Of all people, Albata also leaped out, latching onto Zazel’s one still covered arm.
“Sis, don’t! You’re still hurt!”
“Less than you!” Albata retorted, as a strange black coating began to form around her paw, almost looking like jelly. Before Zazel could retaliate, Salute made sure to nail him with a Dragon Rage to the other shoulder, throwing him off-balance in a wild flail. Even as she was being jerked around from the motion, Albata swatted down with her darkened paw, causing Salute to recognize the move: Knock Off!
The black pendant clattered to the ground, Albata’s move having dislodged it from Zazel’s sleeve. She hopped off and scooped it up onto her neck, fumbling with her bandaged paw for a moment.
The only problem was that she forgot that there was a furious Eelektross standing just an arm’s reach from her. As a shadow was cast over her then abruptly replaced by a harsh yellow glow, Albata looked up at Zazel, looming above with a crackling arc of electricity forming between his arms. Madness swirled in his eyes, the wild desperation of a man out of control. Whether he thought the attack wouldn’t permanently injure her or whether he just didn’t care anymore, nobody knew. The sea of lightning he held in his claws grew to the point its luminance was utterly blinding, stray bolts lashing out all around him as more raw energy was poured into the attack the split second before it launched.
Zazel threw his hands forward, plasma spearing toward Albata—
Only to be intercepted by Salute, jumping in and taking the blow head on. The lightning reached every part of his body, leaving no cell unharmed. The Zweilous didn’t even flinch.
Justice was making sure bad things didn’t happen to good people, after all.
Smoke seemed to rise off of Salute when the attack was finished. The overwhelming smell of ionized air would’ve made him gag, but his entire body locked up. Paralyzed again.
“Th-thanks….” Albata mumbled, scurrying off the stage.
“No… no!” Zazel screamed. “Stop blocking me! I won’t let them escape!”
Flames licked from Zazel’s mouth, the orange light a welcome change from his other colors. Salute internally grimaced as he realized he couldn’t interrupt the attack, given that he couldn’t move at all. Electric attacks tended to latch on to a target, making them easy to block. But Fire ones had a habit of going beyond just their victim. Hopefully Albata was still as fast as she was earlier in the day.
Just as Zazel let loose the Flamethrower, Salute’s whole body was rocked by Pyrite tackling him out of the way. The tumble they landed into managed to extinguish any stray embers about to catch on their bodies, but they ended up in a heap on the ground.
“C’mon, c’mon….” Pyrite dug through Salute’s bag without even getting up, throwing out seeds and the occasional wand in the process. “You’ve gotta have a Cheri in here somewhere, man…!”
There’s one! I throw in status berries first! It’d be at the very bottom! Salute’s mouths twitched as he failed to relay the information.
“Yes!” Pyrite pulled out the Cheri Berry by the stem, throwing it into Salute’s mouth and forcing him to chew. “You good, man?”
Salute snapped his heads up. “Watch out!”
Salute’s first move after regaining bodily control was to Headbutt Pyrite, flinging him to the other side of the stage. Fire washed over Salute, but a Dragon Rage and a quick roll allowed him to avoid disaster. Standing up and stomping out the last of the flames on him, Salute glared at Zazel.
“Quit using Flamethrower!”
“Ha!” Zazel forced another laugh. “Listen to you?! If you want me to stop, it must be a move you’re weak to!”
Salute ran to the side, Zazel’s Flamethrower trailing after him and turning the floor completely black in the process. Compared to Electric, Fire was slow-moving, but there was something far more problematic about it.
“No! It’s that if you keep using it, you’ll light the building—!”
Fwoomph. Suddenly, everything behind Salute was in flames. The curtain had been torn and frayed, making it the perfect fire-starter. And any fire-resistant coating the building had been given had long since worn off. He barely had time to look back as the fire spread, consuming the curtain and reaching the ceiling. It practically exploded into more flames.
Zazel staggered back, watching in horror as his theatre began to burn. But before the events could lead him to any sort of growth or realization, his face warped into a horrid snarl.
“You!” He turned to Pyrite. “You did this!”
Pyrite said nothing, mostly because he was out cold on the floor. Maybe I was a little too rough getting him out of the way….
This didn’t bother Zazel whatsoever, as he charged up another Thunderbolt for the unconscious Zoroark.
“Wait, Zazel!” Salute called.
“I won’t let you steal my show again, you hear me?!”
“Zazel, watch out!”
“No one will get in my way ever again!!”
Salute leaped in, roughly grabbing Pyrite and diving off the stage with him as lightning struck behind them. The landing hurt, as they crashed into the old seats back-first.
…But it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as Zazel, who’d failed to notice a broken beam from the rafters falling right towards him. He didn’t even turn around to see the blazing wood slam on top of him, and he barely made a sound as he was crushed under it.
Despite everything, Salute jumped right back to the stage. He smashed the beam with his heads, knocking it off the Eelektross, now as out as the Zoroark he’d tortured.
Salute panted, lungs filling up with smoke. He was stuck in a burning building with two unconscious citizens. Zazel was bigger than him, but Salute placed the man on his back, taking him off stage even as his arms dragged on the floor. He had to be quick about grabbing Pyrite, because the seats had finally begun to catch fire, too.
Wait a minute!
“Albata!” Salute called. “Where are you?!” He looked around, but everything had grown hazy, embers and black clouds poisoning the air.
“Over here! This way!” Albata called.
“I can’t see anything!”
“Don’t worry, I got you!”
A glowing arrow formed right under Salute’s feet, its light cutting through the smoke. Salute wasted no time following it, dragging Pyrite and Zazel as best as he could. The arrow followed, changing directions multiple times. It led Salute through the safest path possible, and he didn’t question it for a moment.
“Here! You made it!”
Salute could barely make out Albata’s form in front of a mass of burning wood.
“Where? How do we get out?”
“It’s right here! This is the door, but it’s on frickin’ fire! I can’t open it!”
Salute dropped his passengers down. “Make sure they’re safe, I’ve got this!”
Taking a deep, smoke-filled breath that brought tears to his eyes, Salute prepared himself. There was a good chance something had gotten lodged in the door somehow, but that was fine. Throughout this whole, backwards day, if there was one lesson Salute had learned, one thing he would take away from the whole experience…
…it was that he was really good at breaking doors.
Salute charged the burning exit with everything he had left. He smashed right on through in a literal blaze of glory, flaming wood exploding out every which way into the night. It was finally over.
Justice had prevailed.
Pyrite groaned as he got up, taking several pauses to wince. Despite Salute’s best efforts patching him up, he’d probably be feeling this for weeks.
“Hey, you. You’re finally awake.”
Pyrite quickly rubbed his eyes, taking a moment before being able to recognize Salute sitting in front of him.
“Oh, thank goodness,” he sighed, leaning back. “For a second there, I thought… never mind.”
Pyrite looked over to the theatre, lighting up the night with its flames. “How long has that been going?”
“10 minutes. You recover from unconsciousness pretty fast. Unlike him.” Salute gestured to Zazel, lying on the ground in his tattered suit.
“You got him out too, huh?” Pyrite gave a nervous smile. “Is it bad that I was hoping he might’ve died?”
“Yes. That wouldn’t be justice.”
“Yeah, yeah. Of course it wouldn’t. Wait.” Pyrite leaned in, suddenly serious. “Where’s sis?”
“Right behind you, bro.”
Pyrite turned around to find Albata sitting behind him, munching on an Oran Berry.
“Alright, nice.”
Albata touched a paw to the black pendant, still around her neck. “Looks like it’s over. I frickin’ told you we could do it!”
Pyrite grabbed the white pendant, safely resting on his chest. “…No.” He gave another glance to Zazel. “It’s not over.” He stood up, visibly straining as he did.
“Hey!” Salute started. “I just blew most of my supplies on you! Don’t hurt yourself again!”
“I’ll be fine. There’s something I need to do. If anyone comes by, send them away.” Pyrite pointed to Albata. “And make sure nobody sees you.” Then he was off. Strangely, he wasn’t headed back to town, instead going further into the hills.
Salute looked to Albata. “Do you know what he’s doing?”
“No, this wasn’t part of the plan. I guess he’s improvising?”
The pair waited, watching the flames as they did. Lucky for them, nobody came by, though Salute feared that would change as the sky began to pale in the distance. The theatre was barely holding on by the time Pyrite returned, the frame and supports on their last legs.
Salute went to greet Pyrite, but stopped when caught a familiar, metallic scent on his tongues, and saw the Zoroark carrying two things. He… he wouldn’t…! Not two things. Two bodies. Another Zoroark was draped limp over his shoulder, and a Zorua was dangling from under an arm.
“P-Pyrite, you…”
“Don’t worry, they’re from the Mystery Dungeon. They can’t feel anything.”
“I know they’re not sentient, but still….”
“Look, man, I don’t really have time to worry about the ethics of this. We need to get these bodies in there before it stops burning. You helping?”
Salute reluctantly agreed, though the grim process made him squeamish the whole time. It especially bothered him that the Zorua wasn’t even the right kind, and Pyrite’s assurance that they’d get too charred to tell didn’t exactly make him feel any better. Regardless, they dumped the spare bodies into the flaming wreckage, effectively faking Pyrite and Albata’s deaths. Salute wasn’t exactly religious, but this was the kind of act that made him feel like maybe he should be, if only to give a proper send off to the unfortunate Dungeon denizens they’d used.
Either way, it was done, and by the time the building had completely collapsed, the sun was beginning to rise.
“Was… that really necessary?” Salute asked.
“Yeah, it was.” Pyrite gestured to Zazel. “He’ll never let us go. That’s what I realized tonight. So long as he knows we’re still out there somewhere, he’ll bide his time, waiting to try and get us again.
“And either way, me and sis… we’re criminals, now. No matter how justified I think we are, according to the law we should be facing punishment. And I’m not going to put her through that.”
“So what now? Are you going to stay disguised all the time?”
Pyrite shook his head slowly. “No, too risky. We’ll… need there to be nobody to recognize us.”
Salute gave a small gasp. He averted his gaze from Pyrite, instead giving a fierce look up to the brightening sky.
“I see. I always knew it would come to this.”
“What?”
“You’ve fully accepted the criminal life. To save your sister, there’s no line you won’t cross.”
“Salute, what in the world are you talking about?”
“No witnesses… what a wicked thought. But if you want to kill me, you’ll have to work for it!”
“Salute! Man. We’re just gonna skip town.”
Salute closed his eyes. There it was. Taking a deep breath, he looked at Pyrite’s genuinely concerned face again.
“…Yeah, I know. How far are you going to go?”
“Dunno. Depends. But we’ll probably have to leave the duchy altogether.”
“Ooh, wait!” Albata chimed in. “Can we go to the Northern Arm? I always wanted to see the Radiant Guild!”
Pyrite shrugged. “Eh, maybe. But yeah, the plan’s to head out, make some new identities. That kinda thing’s pretty easy when I can just illusion the proper documents on the fly.”
Salute gave a wistful nod. Well, that was still a crime, but not on the same level as murder. Huh, that’s a new thought.
“So… that’s really it?” he mumbled. “You really have to go?”
“Yep.” Pyrite turned to Albata. “Sis, if there’s anything you want from home, you should get it now. We’ve gotta head out before the town wakes up.”
“Okay. All I really need are my dice.”
Pyrite raised an eyebrow. “You’re going back for those? We can just get a new set on the road.”
“Nuh-uh, those dice are special.” Albata came over to Salute. She looked him up and down with intense eyes, jaw clenched the whole time. It kind of felt like she was boring into his soul….
“…See you later,” she finally said, before turning and beginning to trot off. “…You frickin’ frick.”
A long pause passed as Salute stared in abject confusion.
“Don’t worry,” Pyrite laughed. “That means she likes you. You could come with us, you know.”
Salute shook his heads. “No. Someone’s got to stay and help clean up this mess. It wouldn’t be right to leave the Chief all of this without an explanation.”
“Yeah… uh, if you can, tell her sorry for all the paperwork.”
Salute looked down to the ground. Thinking of what he’d say to the Chief…. He’d have to pretend Pyrite was dead from now on, and would never get to see him again… so, in a sense, it sort of like he was dead to Salute.
“Oh, before I forget…” Pyrite turned something over in his hand before tossing it. “Mind holding onto this for me?”
Salute scrambled to catch it, since he was unprepared, but the easy throw made it simple to handle. At least, until he saw a white pendant of squares arranged in a spiral pattern now hanging from his maw.
“What are you doing? This is yours.”
“Relax, I’m just having you borrow it.” Pyrite lazily waved Salute’s concerns off. “Just for a bit.”
“But still, you did all of this to get it, and you’re just handing it over to me?”
Pyrite looked out to the sunrise. “I didn’t really care too much about the one for me, honestly. Albata’s was more important. She was just a little kid when everything happened, so she never really got a chance to know our parents like I did. That never seemed fair to me. I wanted something… so that even though they’re gone, she can still feel like they’re with her.”
Pyrite gave Salute a grin brighter than the sun behind him. “Take care of it for now, okay?”
Salute stared at the pendant, thinking. Experimentally, he put it on. The light pendant contrasted almost perfectly against his dark scales. Then he snapped to attention and performed his namesake.
“Will do! I won’t let anything come to it! When you come back, it’ll be in perfect condition!”
“Hah. I’ll be looking forward to that. Thanks, Salute.” Pyrite paused for a moment, grin turning to a subtle smile. “It’s been fun.”
“Yeah. You were a lot better than I thought, Pyrite.”
“Chrysus.”
“Huh?”
“My real name. It’s Chrysus. Now there’s no more secrets. It’s kinda embarrassing to have such a traditional name, and I hated that Zazel still used it, but you can have permission.”
“…Seems complicated. Do you mind if I just keep thinking of you as Pyrite?”
Pyrite laughed. “Sure thing, man. Gonna have to think of some new cover names for me and sis, though. It’s a shame, I was really proud of these ones….”
“You’re crafty. You can figure it out. But try to keep the crimes to a minimum from now on.”
“Right. Wouldn’t want to disappoint my favorite co-worker, after all.”
Salute gave a knowing smirk. “Don’t you mean best friend in the whole world?”
Pyrite’s smile grew back to its normal size, eclipsing Salute’s. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do. Take care, man.”
Before he could manage to leave earshot, Salute called out to the Zoroark.
“Hey!” He pointed to the pendant. “Don’t forget! For justice!”
Pyrite gave a nod. “For justice!” And then he was off.
A while passed, with Salute watching as the sun took its rightful place and the town began to wake up. He’d just let two criminals go, and had even assisted them in their efforts. The pendant around one of his necks didn’t belong to him, and he wasn’t about to give it back to its legal owner.
“Do you think we did the right thing?” Salute’s left head spoke.
His right took a while to respond, gazing with a furrowed brow at the seemingly new world “he” inhabited. “…Yeah. I think we did, this time.”
“That’s good… so do I.” Salute’s left head yawned. “That day was too long….”
“It’s not over yet.” The right head shook. “There’s still one more thing to do.”
“Right. It wouldn’t be justice to keep her waiting.” Salute stood up, both heads synchronized in their expressions, thanks to the mention of that word that unified them.
“Let’s go.”
“…And that’s everything that happened, sir.”
Devastated was too weak of a word to describe Chief Hiketeria’s expression. The Sawsbuck sat at her desk, laurel branches growing and constricting around her body while her head was barely held up by a hoof digging into a temple. That can’t be comfortable….
Mountains of papers were piled up beneath her, the light from the stained-glass window behind making them all look to be in different colors. It wasn’t too much more than what Salute normally made her deal with… he wasn’t a problem, was he? Nah, no way….
“I see.” Hiketeria finally spoke, shaking the laurels off of her. “I’m still a little taken aback by all of this. Pyrite was a Zoroark the whole time, and I didn’t know….” Hiketeria looked up at Salute, giving a strange stare through him. “Rest assured, something like that will not happen again.”
“Well, sir, it isn’t like he’s around anymore.”
Hiketeria returned right back to despair on her desk, eyes squeezed shut. “Yes, that’s also something.”
“…Sorry, sir.”
Hiketeria shook her head. “No, there’s nothing for you to be sorry for. You did your best, and managed to save at least one citizen despite the circumstances. Good job, Salute.”
Salute was sure not to let his attention falter from the praise.
“But there’s one thing I am curious about,” Hiketeria continued, giving Salute a rare look of confusion. “Zazel came by to give his own account of what happened, and he made incessant mention of you attacking him and even assisting Pyrite and his sister in the theatre. Salute, is this true?”
There it was… well, no avoiding it.
“Sir… it is.”
“May I ask why?”
Salute thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully to be as honest as possible.
“I saw his actions as reckless and dangerous. I believed that were he allowed to continue, it would bring undue harm to people, and he would not be stopped by anything other than force.”
“I agree.”
“Huh?”
“I agree.” Hiketeria took a moment to nod. “Zazel was clearly unstable. That was evident when he barged in to speak to me. He lied to you over the course of the day to fulfil his own goals, and though he technically did not start it, he chose to continue a fight in a building that was not safe.” She sighed. “And clearly, your hunch that he would bring harm to people was accurate.”
“Wait. Does that mean I’m not off the Guard!?”
Hiketeria’s expression lightened a bit. “No, you are not off the Guard. In fact, I’d say that you did precisely what I would have done in that situation.”
“S-sir! That’s a huge compliment!” Salute noticed his attention had finally faltered, and snapped back, though the joy was still evident on his faces.
“There is still one thing I was curious about, though.”
“Sir?”
“You didn’t arrest Zazel. That struck me as odd. He caused the deaths of two people thanks to his callous behavior. He’s guilty of manslaughter, and yet you let him go. Why is that?”
Salute thought for a moment. Sure, he knew that Pyrite and Albata were fine, but even if they weren’t… he probably wouldn’t have arrested Zazel anyway. He searched himself for the reasoning, taking a while to land on it.
“Zazel cared about his show more than anything else in the world. He was willing to wait for nearly a decade just to have another chance at it. Now, that show is gone for good, along with the only people that could run it. Zazel has to live with the fact that he destroyed all of those things himself. Jailing him would be overkill.”
Hiketeria leaned back in her seat. “Wow. One day. One day with Pyrite was all it took.”
“He gave me a lot to think about.” Though deep in thought, Salute kept his eyes in the proper position… even if no one could see them. “Despite everything, I respected him. He’s far more capable than he let on, able to own up to his responsibilities, and while I didn’t understand at first, and even still don’t fully get it, the way that he went about his job made the people around him happy.”
“I’m glad. It seems you’ve managed to learn better restraint and judgement far faster than I could have imagined. Now I wish you two could have worked together for longer.”
“So do I, sir.”
Hiketeria sat straight up. “Well, he was a criminal either way, so it wasn’t meant to be. I’ll have to assign you to someone new in the meantime.”
“Sir, can I say something?”
“By all means.”
“Zazel has numerous debtors paying him. And it was the result of one of those debts that caused this conflict. I don’t believe he should be jailed, but I do believe he should face consequences. Sir, I think his debtors should have their debts forgiven, so that something like this won’t happen again.”
“My goodness, he really did change you.” Hiketeria shook her head again, and as she brought her face back up to look at Salute, a smile of all things was on it. “I’ll see what I can do. The Town Council does owe me a few favors.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Well, you’ve certainly had a far more eventful day than I originally anticipated, Salute. But you’re dismissed.”
Salute gave the Chief a salute before performing an about-face and setting off towards the door.
“Salute. Before you go.”
Salute stopped.
“This new outlook of yours is good, and I’m glad to see you affording law-breakers greater understanding.” Hiketeria leaned forward on her desk, giving Salute a purposeful smile. “But don’t forget what you fight for.”
Salute looked back with a confident smirk. “Sir! Of course!”
And so he was off, back to his routine, starting with resupplying. He wasn’t the kind of person to let no sleep keep him from his job. Despite everything, Salute found himself almost laughing as he left the Guard’s Hall, ready to take on another day. “Don’t forget what you fight for?” What a silly thing to say! He was the last person who needed to be told that. After all, nothing had changed.
Salute was fighting for what he always had, and always would.
Honor. Civility. Charity.
Justice.
CHAPTER TRACKLIST:
1. Stolen Spectacle ~ Theme of Zazel
2. The Show Must Go On! ~ for Battle with Zazel
3. Due Process ~ Theme of Salute
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