Chapter 15 – Iria, Part 1

“Whoa…that’s Iria?”

Arian was the one to make this remark as he, Elvira, Serafina, Natalie and Candice stepped out of woodland and looked upon the site of the city on the hilltop before them.

“The capital city of Selenia itself,” Serafina confirmed. “That is our beloved Iria, in all her flesh and glory.”

The group had made their way from Lapis Grotto to the outskirts of Iria, outside the city’s castle walls. It was quite a sight for Arian, who was impressed by what he saw.

“That grandeur sure fits a capital city,” he remarked. “And that castle…I take it that’s something major?”

“Yes, indeed,” Serafina confirmed. “That is Iria Castle. It is where the tsars of Selenia have lived and ruled their country since its founding. …And…it is where Mitrofan resides today, in his despotic rule over our fair land.” The cat’s tone of contempt had returned.

“…Hmm…I’ve just had a thought,” Elvira realised. “We should probably put our badges out of sight. We wouldn’t want the knights to realise who we work for.”

“Indeed, that would be wise,” agreed Serafina. “Natalie and I did the same thing when we were meeting a client here some time back.”

“Do we have to pay a toll of some kind?” Arian wondered. “The Thorned Roses had that system in place in Ozerograd.”

“No, we do not,” Candice replied. “The knights here do not follow that idea. But…that’s not to say they are benevolent. Once we are inside Iria’s walls, they will watch us like a Mandibuzz watches its prey, waiting for the moment when we engage in wrongdoing of some kind.”

“So, what, be on our best behaviour, pretty much?” Arian surmised.

“Exactly. If you are peaceful and pose no threat to Mitrofan, then you are fine. But if you show signs of rebellion, then…the knights will not act kindly, to say the least.”

“…Great signs of leadership there,” muttered the Riolu dryly.

“No use complaining, Arian,” Elvira said to her partner. “We just have to live with it. Besides, we’re not here to overthrow Mitrofan. We’re just here to return Candice and give the Amplifying Crystals to our clients. After that, we’ll leave. In and out. It’ll be like we were never here.”

“Right, that’s our agenda, then,” Arian proclaimed. “Let’s get this over with.”

They marched towards the city walls, where two knights, a Durant and a Hitmonchan, stood. To Arian’s surprise, they weren’t wearing armour, but rather had a crest with an instinctive insignia pinned to them. So these are the knights of Selenia? Not exactly what I had in mind…but I guess this world plays by a different rulebook when it comes to knights.

“Halt! State your business!” ordered the Hitmonchan, as the quintet approached.

“We are heading to Karinina’s Inn to meet with friends of ours,” Serafina answered. “We shall not be long. You will no doubt see us before long.”

“…Hmph. If you insist,” the Durant said doubtfully. “Enter, then.” He and the Hitmonchan knight stood aside, and let the group enter the city. Once they entered, Arian’s eyes looked around him, taking in the sights around him.

Iria, at first sight, was far more impressive than Ozerograd. A grand long, wide cobblestone street stretched before them, and the houses on either side looked to be in pitch-perfect condition, with an architectural style to them that Arian found himself taking a liking to. Stone archways were along the street, which in turn acted like bridges under It was like Ozerograd in a lot of ways, only Iria was more grandiose.

There were many types of Pokémon too, in this populated city, some of which Arian still hadn’t seen yet. He had gradually seen more varieties of Pokémon throughout his various missions he carried out with Elvira. But still, based on the looks he gave certain species they passed by, his partner could see that there were still many more species he was not yet aware of. Several passersby acknowledged the group, while others gave the Riolu strange looks for his wondrous gaze upon them.

“Don’t gawk, Arian,” advised Elvira. “You’ll draw unnecessary attention to us.”

“Oh, sorry,” her partner apologised. “But…I can’t help it. There’s so many new Pokémon I’ve never seen before…”

“I sympathise with Arian here,” Serafina supported. “Let it go, Elvira. Can you blame him for acting this way?”

“If I may interject,” Candice piped up. “I don’t follow. Why are you saying this about Arian?”

“Oh, um…” Arian found himself unsure of how to answer. Should I tell her about my amnesia? Or would that make things a lot more awkward and complicated?

“Oh, er, he don’t get out much,” Natalie interjected, before the human could muster a reply. “Don’t worry ’bout him.”

“I…see,” the Vivillon said. She didn’t ask any more questions, much to Arian’s relief. I gotta remember to thank Natalie later, he told himself.

He was then reminded of something else. “Where is this Karinina’s Inn we’re headed to?” he asked.

“It’s in the Merchants’ Quarter,” Elvira replied. “I don’t remember how exactly we get there, though…”

“Don’t worry,” Candice assuaged. “I know the way there. Follow me.”

And so the group did that, following the Vivillon’s fluttering wings, as she weaved her way through the city streets and towards the aforementioned Merchants’ Quarter. More well-to-do housing greeted them, but Arian’s attention had diverted to something else he’d noticed.

Candice had indeed been correct about the knights watching them closely. Just like in Ozerograd, patrollers were everywhere, and observing every person with a cold, steely look, watching for any suspicious activity. It gave Arian and Elvira that same feeling of intimidation they felt when the Thorned Roses were doing the same thing in Ozerograd. Only this time, it was rather more menacing. The Thorned Roses were untrained bandits at the end of the day, whereas these were properly trained and disciplined knights. One slip up would mean an awkward explanation at best and…Arian didn’t want to think what would happen in the worst case scenario. A blow to the head? A public flogging? Or…worse than that? Is execution out of the question? Given what I’ve heard about Mitrofan…I wouldn’t put it past his forces to do such a thing.

“…What? What happened to this place? It used to be more lively than this…”

Elvira’s voice drew Arian away from his thoughts, and onto the sight before them. They had come to a square of some sort, with a fountain and a marble statue at its centre. The statue in question was of a Pokémon that resembled a shooting star (not a Pokémon that Arian recalled. The canine kept a mental note to look out for that particular one when doing research next). There were a few merchants’ stalls set up, and there were a number of people mulling over the wares of the merchants while the sellers themselves made pitches to try and persuade potential buyers.

But it felt like something was missing. And Arian figured out why quite quickly.

“…It’s a bit quiet, isn’t it?” he remarked. “For a capital city’s merchant quarter, anyway.”

“You are quite right,” Serafina said. “It was much more bustling prior to Mitrofan’s takeover. Merchants from the East would gather here to sell their products, most of which were exotic and unavailable to most Selenians. There was rarely a moment when there were not throngs of people, eager to see what unique items the merchants had on sale. I witnessed those moments with my own eyes, and to see those merchants gone from here…it is a sad sight, indeed, to see this place devoid of the energy it once possessed.”

“I take it Mitrofan had something to do with them staying away from here?” Arian presumed.

“Indeed. Many of them were uneasy with selling wares in a city where an extremist tyrant ruled, and so many opted to stay away. …An understandable viewpoint. I would not either, were I they.”

“Agreed,” Arian concurred. “…So where is Karinina’s Inn?” He looked at the buildings, trying to spot it.

“It’s over here,” Candice said, heading to a building with an artwork of another Pokémon, this one resembling a lantern with eyes and a violet flame burning within it (Lampent. That one, Arian recalled from his research).

Walking into the building, they could see it was a place of good upkeep, with clean floors and bright lighting. A long red carpet went from the entrance to the reception desk, where a Lampent, just like the one depicted outside, hovered. Their eyes stood to attention upon seeing the group of five approach.

“Ah, Miss Candice,” their voice sounded out, a feminine one with a hint of strictness to it. “You’re back…along with some others,” she said, acknowledging the other four. “Are you adding more members to Dio’s motley brigade?”

“N-No, Karinina, not at all,” Candice denied. “These people are escorting me back to him. Where is he right now?”

“…In the ballroom, practising his songs with his fellows,” Karinina answered. “I told him he could go there and do so, provided he didn’t cause noise complaints like the last few times. With this lessening in business, the last thing I need is complaints. Surely that Primarina must know there is such a place as ‘outside’ with which to practice?”

“…I’ll tell him to keep the noise down, then,” the Vivillon relented meekly, something that made Arian frown. She could have easily told her that the knights outside make it impossible to practise in. But…maybe she just doesn’t do well in the face of arguments.

“Follow me, everyone. Dio’s this way,” Candice beckoned to the group, before heading down one of the doors that led into a hallway. They passed by a number of doorways, before turning left and facing a set of two big doors. No doubt this was the ballroom, and as they got closer, the faint sounds of singing and instruments playing could be heard, most prominent of which was a piano. Right next to the door, they could hear lyrics being sung.

“I hear the words that you say

As the heavens above us turn grey

As you take the gift from our hands

It was just what the cards had planned

Of the stars and their sails

In the skies, they weave their tale

If you look, from afar

The message to all that we are

Now can you see….what I see…?”

The last line was sung with the notes stretched out to a high note that showed the singer as a very capable tenor, sustaining that note for quite a while, before eventually, they stopped. While it was muffled, Arian couldn’t help but be impressed.

“Wow, he’s good,” he remarked.

“He is, indeed,” Candice agreed. “…Now’s a good time to enter, I think.” She opened the double doors to the ballroom. It undoubtedly looked like a room that would host important events such as galas and dinner parties, but right then and there, given that there were no such events on, all the chairs and tables had been put to the side. A stage stood at the back of the room, though, and upon it stood a group of five. Foremost of which was an evidently marine Pokémon that resembled a sea lion, with a light-blue ponytail tied together by a string of pearls. They had a blue tail and a white body that made Arian think of a mermaid. Behind him were four others; an Oranguru by the piano, a Weavile behind a drum kit, and two Toxtricity, one Amped, and the other Low Key.

“Bravo!” the Primarina commended in a masculine tone, much to Arian’s surprise, given his feminine appearance. “Applaudable! The tones of the instruments sing with solidity. Khoroshev’s piano movements are as delectably melodious as ever, Iommi’s playing is similarly tasteful, as is Duda’s, and Portnoy’s drums are beautifully consistent. Excellency taken form! Pleasure to the ears of our ancestors, acceptable to the Creator himself, even! Nectar to one’s senses, I would be tempted to say!” He gestured with flair and finesse, before adopting a more downbeat expression. “…Alas, the vocals are, forsooth, imperfect, in the opinion of this ignoble chanteur.”

“Vocals? Imperfect?” the one in front of the piano, an Oranguru, remarked. “Far from it. Those were pretty fine, even by your standards, Dio. Is it to do with the lyrics?”

“Nay,” rejected Dio. “Your penned lyrics, Khoroshev, are that of a well-versed songsmith; no expectations fall short on that front. But…the vocal parts lack substance. …Hmm…mayhap backing vocals from one of you? Which one dost volunteer?”

“I would say yes to that,” Khoroshev said, raising his hand. “…But I’d like to put this on hold while we deal with our guests.”

“Guests?” Dio turned around and saw the five having entered. But, upon seeing Candice, his entire expression changed. “Candice! Oh, beauteous maiden! Innocence incarnate! Fate appears to have dealt us a lucky hand! O Creator, blessings to thee on high!” He held his flippers together. “Thank the stars above…Darkrai himself weaved fearful dark thoughts regarding thy fate that crossed my mind. Mercifully, his monstrous weavings hath been vanquished with the advent of your arrival! Ah, the light of reality! And those black, cursed thoughts, banished to impossibility!”

Okay…I now see what Candice meant, Arian thought, as he bemusedly watched the exchange before him with his equally nonplussed comrades. He certainly is colourful, this Dio fellow.

“I was fine, Dio,” Candice assured. “Especially with the help of these four from the Irian Guild. They found me and escorted me here. …Oh, and they also got the Amplifying Crystals that you wanted, Khoroshev.”

“They did?” the Oranguru replied. “…Wonderful. I suppose banking on those rumours proved fruitful in the end.” He got up from his piano, taking a small bag with him, and walked down to the group. “A deal’s a deal. Here’s your money.” He handed the bag to Elvira, who was nearest to him.

“Thank you,” Elvira said back, as Natalie wordlessly handed the Amplifying Crystals over to the pianist. “And the other reward?” She turned to Dio.

“Memory eludes me not, dear Treecko,” the singer assured. “Iommi, if you would?” he requested to the guitar player, who nodded and reached for another bag that was by the other Toxtricity’s bass. He gave it to Dio, who in turn gave it to Arian.

“Unto thee,” he professed.

“…Goodness, that’s heavier than I’m used to,” commented Arian on the bag’s weight. “But hey, we’re happy to help. It’s our proud job as mercenaries of the Irian Guild.”

“…Can I ask something, Dio? And Khoroshev?” Elvira interjected. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“…The Creator invented lips for a reason,” the Primarina eloquently spoke. “Speak your mind, mysterious motivated mercenary maiden of moral magnanimous mind.”

His alliteration took a moment for Elvira and the group to get around. Arian, in particular, fought to keep a straight face in the wake of Dio’s speech mannerisms.

“Yes, um…How did you hear of us?” the Treecko asked. “We in the Irian Guild are trying to maintain a bit of an underground presence, so we won’t be detected by Mitrofan. Candice told us it was through rumours, but I want to know: where exactly did you hear that the Irian Guild was still functional?”

“…This morn, ’twas,” Dio recalled. “The pressing need for Amplifying Crystals, as unbosomed by my musical compeer, coupled with the innocent maiden’s act of vanishment – ” He gestured to Candice. ” – A great predicament faced us. But as we cerebrated, wallowed in despair’s grips…a saviour arrived. He, of eminence hair and a fairy’s gait, reached out. Said he, ‘Write a letter to the Irian Guild and they’ll solve your problems in a jiffy.’ Mayhap it was worth it, thought I at the time. Thus, the requests were penned and dispatched. A few hours passed…and our prayers were answered. The tree of hearsay bore fruit on this occasion. ‘Twas no putrescent subterfuge, intent to rob our precious coin! Marvellous! Truly marvellous!”

“…I guess there’s scammers doing the rounds,” murmured Arian. “Unsurprising, really, given the way Selenia is now…”

“The land of tsars finds itself beyond the crossroads, indeed,” ruminated the Primarina. “The Ferax has been crossed, and House Ruslan, they who hath sustained Selenia’s leadership for a quincentenary now, are a fallen house, burnt to ash and gone wi’ the wind, whereupon the wings of death claimed them for his own. Thus, this lush and green land must muster a new dynasty, or turn to this republican ideal spoken of in some circles. …Or…does she need to, the land of tsars and shrubs?”

“…What do you mean?” questioned Serafina. Even she found herself flummoxed by how the singer weaved his words.

“…Just as the tree of hearsay bore fruit for the Irian Guild, so too it may blossom for what else hath floated on the wind. Word speaks of it on the street.” The way he spoke, Dio was evidently preparing for some grand reveal. “Said they, the hoi polloi who hath been gifted the bread of the rumour mill…” He twirled around in a gesture of grandeur, before revealing what he was building up to.

“The pawn prince of Selenia and heir apparent to her lands and throne, Leonid Klimentovich Ruslan…yet lives!”

“…Prince Leonid?” Serafina uttered, shocked by what she had heard. “Prince Leonid is alive?”

“…Yea. That is the product of the rumour mill,” Dio replied simply. For once.

“Where did you hear this?” Elvira was quick to ask questions. “And what proof do you have that this is true?”

“You seek proof?” To that, the Primarina could only give a shrug. “…Nay, ferned freelancer. I possess no grounds on which to stake these claims. …Such is the state of rumour and hearsay. Accompanied with salt…” He stopped mid-sentence. “…No, I shan’t say more. The proverb is…something musty.”

“…Oh…I think I get it,” Arian said, hoping he understood the singer’s most recent answer. “‘Take rumours with a grain of salt’? Is that what you’re talking about?”

“Verily, my hirsute hireling,” Dio answered. “‘Tis the gospel of the grapevines. Vindictive and cruel, some of its fruit is, to raise a man’s hopes to heaven only to bring them back down into reality in a meteoric blaze. Hence, dismissal is oft the response of many to rumours. The fear of becoming that meteor crashing into reality overwhelms many a man. And so, says he, ‘Nay, I shall not partake in hopeful fantasy,’ and turns away.

“But the chance exists that what he sees as fantasy could very well be reality. Thus, the blame is his own for not pursuing that end. For Selenia…her citizens must decide. Pursue this possibly fictitious end, or remain in the stagnant mire she finds herself in? I am not unaware as to the plight that plagues the land of tsars. Even if Mitrofan lauded our performance to his apocryphal presence, he plays a character of disharmony, much to Selenia’s detriment.”

“…’Lauded’ your performance?” Serafina noted. “…Did you play to Mitrofan before?”

“…We did, once,” Khoroshev confirmed. “You see, me, Duda and Portnoy were once a trio of musicians, performing across Selenia, and even sometimes in Alba, Dresilia and Miletos, to noblemen and in opera houses, theatres – you name it. It did make us quite a bit of money. Gradually, we got more ambitious, and eventually began working with orchestras. It was great – the sound was fantastic, the audiences were incredibly receptive to it, and we were regarded with great acclaim. It was brilliant, and we were at quite a high point.”

“Mm.” Duda nodded. “Perhaps too high a point. Because when you reach the highest point you can…the only place left to go is down.”

“Basically, all that hosting of orchestras and travelling with them across Ardalion cost us a huge amount of money,” Portnoy explained. “That was money that we didn’t have. And as a result of that…we had to sell off everything we had, including our beloved instruments.” The trio’s hurt expressions spelled out this being memories of miserable times. “We ended up becoming homeless as a result, and so our glory days were over, just like that.”

“Goodness…” remarked Elvira. “I’m sorry to hear that. …But where does Mitrofan fall into this?”

“Prior to that, they happened upon the triad of Iommi, Candice, and I, along with our own pecuniary tribulations,” Dio interjected. “We were naught but pauperised players, and playing was our practice of persuasion for the populace to provide our purse with Poké to purchase provisions. If we did not play, we could not eat. ‘Twas an axiom that dictated the course of our being here in Iria. This trio, mendicant as they were – ” He gestured to Khoroshev, Duda and Portnoy. ” – understood our woes. I proposed an alliance in music, and assent was given. Word soon spread about our minstrelsy, and the knights carried that word into the lap of Mitrofan. One morn, approached, we were, by a leading general of the Selenian Knights, a commanding Nidoqueen, and told to follow her to the opera house.

“Mitrofan himself met us, and agnised my good friends, having been at a performance of theirs in bygone days. They conferred to him what they conferred to you. Upon hearing of their plight and mine, he proffered us an opportunity; if we could administer admiration among an audience, along with him, then the debt plaguing these three would be lifted. …To lift that cloud over their fortunes was a window of opportunity they could not spurn. And I was their willing servant in their endeavour, as was Iommi.”

“Not me, though,” Candice added. “I didn’t have the nerve to face all of those people…”

“Worry not, Candice. Your role was not central to our performance, thus your absence did not disturb it,” Dio spoke. “The concert resonated well with the audience, being blessed with the prior music of Khoroshev, Duda and Portnoy and pieces written by I, combined together to amplify the musical experience and espouse a brand new dynamism to them. ‘Twas nothing short of a triumph, and Mitrofan responded in kind by purging the debts of my compeers.”

“He did that…?” Elvira said, a confused look on her face. “But why? Mitrofan’s been nothing but horrid from what we’ve heard…”

“Beats us too,” Portnoy remarked. “I guess the man has his kind moments? …It’s a bit of a pickle for us. Because you hear all this stuff about neglect and apathy from him over certain stuff, but then he goes and wipes our debts just like that. If he didn’t do that, we’d still be tramps sleeping on the ground. …It’s kinda hard, really, to call him a pile of crap. For us, at least.”

“Mmm,” Dio hummed in agreement. “…A man of obscure motives. Questionable, mixed…I dare say aimless on occasion. Conjecture takes form in place of the truth, and many presume his ultimate goal. I, too, imagine, but I bear no proof to corroborate my flights of fancy. …But nor do I bear proof of Prince Leonid’s current supposed state of living. Such is the mystique of mystery, that fabled damsel known as ‘truth’. O fair maiden of candour, when shall you reveal thy splendour to us, and free the innocent while damning the guilty…?”

The Primarina seemed to be drifting off course, conversation-wise. Arian leaned over to Elvira.

“You think maybe now would be a good time to leave?” he whispered. “We have all we need. We don’t really need to stay around here anymore.”

“Hmm…I guess you’re right,” Elvira agreed, before turning her attention to the fivesome. “I…think we’ll take our leave now.”

“Of course,” Khoroshev replied. “You four have been very helpful. Thank you very much.”

“And thank you for saving me,” Candice added. “I won’t forget what you did.”

“It was no problem,” Arian said in response. “That’s our job in the Guild. Don’t be afraid to call on us again if you’re in need of something.” He turned, making for the door with his fellow mercenaries.

“Fare ye well, soldiers of fortune!” Dio called out to them. “May the Creator watch over you. And…may, too, the truth be on your side. Lies are wicked things, as is the scourge that is oblivion. Let not either gain the upper hand against you.”

“We’ll…remember that,” Arian said, though admittedly, he wasn’t fully sure of the Primarina’s words. Maybe I just need time to process it.

As they left, Dio stared in the direction of the door for a good few seconds, before Khoroshev broke through his thoughts.

“They were a nice lot, weren’t they?” he commented. “…Poké for your thoughts, Dio? Something about those mercs catch your eye?”

“…’Twas as I said, my fellow player,” the singer replied. “I bear no proof to corroborate suppositions. But while I do not gamble…were I such a man, I would bet a handsome amount that those hirelings may well become heroes in time. ‘Tis naught more than conjecture, but…

“…A genesis may be on its way to our humble souls in this verdant land.”

 

---

 

“Come back soon!” called the Klefki from the counter of a Klefki Bank in the Merchants’ Quarter, where Teams Elpis and Anima had stored most of their financial earnings. They, of course, had divided it between each other in a fair gesture.

“So…what now?” Arian posed to his fellow mercenaries, as they were about to leave the building. “We’ve done all we need to do here, so…should we go back to the Guild?”

“I believe we should,” Serafina concurred. “Returning to the safe haven of the Guild would be the best choice.”

“Let’s get goin’, then,” Natalie urged. “I really ain’t used to the city at all. Way too many folks, and too many streets and houses…Ain’t for country gals like me.”

“…You never have enjoyed travelling to the bigger cities,” murmured the Meowstic in sympathy. “Very well. Let us make for the gates, posthaste!”

They exited the building with optimism, having finished not one, but two successful missions in the one go. It would be an interesting tale to regale to their fellow Guild members, about the colourful personality of Dio and the sight of Iria. The tale of Mitrofan relieving the debt of Khoroshev, Duda and Portnoy, too, would be a fascinating story to have a discussion over.

However, all of that optimism vanished the moment they stepped outside the door and heard eight words that made them stop in their tracks.

“There they are! Stop right there, you four!”

They all froze, realising that the quarter had a heavy presence of knights on it. In all their eagerness to exit the city, they had completely forgotten about the knights. Given the fact that there had been no incidents on the way to Karinina’s Inn, they had taken that lack of intervention for granted. And now they would pay the price for their lack of awareness.

“Hey! What’s the big idea?” Arian complained. “Let us through! We haven’t done anything wrong!”

“You haven’t done anything wrong?” a female voice spoke up, and out stepped a Nidoqueen. Notable to Arian, though, was the way the knights stood aside for her to enter the central fray. “…Typical words of a wanted man. We in the Order of the Knights of Selenia aren’t swayed by your lies. Not when we have evidence to disregard your claims!”

She then pulled out a poster, and all four mercenaries went rigid at what was depicted on it: an illustration depicting a Riolu and a Treecko, along with writing underneath it.

WANTED

Arian(Riolu) and Elvira(Treecko)

2,000P reward if BOTH are captured

1,000P reward if ONE is captured

This duo overthrew Hinnerk and the Thorned Roses in Ozerograd, and are members of an underground organisation plotting the ultimate overthrow of Mitrofan that will throw our nation into chaos. They and their comrades-in-arms are a threat to stability and must be apprehended.

“…Wait…How do you know our names?” Arian questioned. “How do you know who we are?”

“Did you really think news of Hinnerk’s defeat wouldn’t reach us in Iria?” the Nidoqueen replied, somewhat mocking of the human’s incredulity. “Regardless of what we think about the man and his band of ruffians, there’s no doubt that this could mean the start of a precedent. How long before you start dismantling the leadership of our other lords, and potentially overthrow our great leader himself? You’re a threat to his leadership, and that’s why you must be captured.”

“Hinnerk was a tyrant that oppressed the people of Ozerograd!” Elvira said. “He was a horrible leader that unjustly usurped the leadership through murder! How Mitrofan could support someone like him is beyond me!”

“Quite right!” Serafina concurred. “And Mitrofan himself is little different, having assassinated Tsar Kliment and his whole family to seize the throne for his own gain!”

“Silence!” For whatever reason, this latest outburst had struck a nerve within the Nidoqueen, much to Arian’s surprise. “Don’t you dare compare Master Mitrofan to that thug Hinnerk! Unlike him, Master Mitrofan has honour and dignity! He knows how to treat his allies and servants! He’s nothing like Kliment, who didn’t acknowledge his smallfolk at all and only cared about getting even more friendly with his upper class halfwits who equally couldn’t give a toss!” She moved forward, a snarl crossing her face. “Now come along and submit!”

“Oh hell no!” Arian objected. “Not in a million years! This way, guys!” Spotting a gap in the knights’ formation, he turned that way and ran in that direction. His fellow mercenaries, of a similar mindset, followed suit.

“After them!” yelled the Nidoqueen knight. “Don’t let them get away!”

“Yes, Marshal Ludmila!” obliged the other knights, before giving chase with her.

The four ran down one of the streets that led away from the Merchants’ Quarter, observed by bewildered passersby. However, not far behind them was the advance of Ludmila and her fellow knights. Worse still, knights standing on guard in their position moved to block their path, providing further obstacles. Determined to get through, Serafina used Psybeam on the Combusken knight ahead of them, while Arian used Force Palm on a Vigoroth. These were not moves intended to defeat, but to push these knights aside so they could keep running. They managed to do this; however, it became apparent to the group that this was costing them.

“They’re gaining!” Arian yelled, looking behind him. Indeed, the group of knights were getting closer, and at this rate, it wouldn’t be long before they were caught. “We have to do something!”

“Our items!” Serafina called out. “Surely we can use them to halt their advance!”

The reminder of Ishmael using a Petrify Orb on the group of Thorned Roses back in Ozerograd came back to Arian, and he immediately turned to Elvira, who had their bag. “Elvira! Do we have a Petrify Orb?”

“…I don’t think so,” Elvira replied disappointedly, rummaging through their bag. “But we do have this!” She threw an orb back at the group of knights, and it shattered, over most of them.

“Gah! Mercs and their pesky items!” growled Ludmila. “What is this? Why is it suddenly harder to move!”

“A Slow Orb,” Elvira explained to her partner before he could ask. “It’ll buy us time. But it won’t last forever, so we need to put as much distance between us and them as possible!”

“Got it! Then let’s make tracks!” Arian called out, and the quartet continued running.

However, by the time they reached a relatively quiet area, it became clear to them that this wasn’t a sustainable strategy, as the constant fleeing without rest was taking its toll on one of the four. Specifically…the one with a noble background.

“Hah…hah…” Serafina panted wearily. “Everyone…I…” She couldn’t finish her sentence, due to her winded state.

“Serafina…” Natalie slowed. “Y’all, we gotta stop. We can’t keep runnin’ like this.”

“…But what about the knights?” Arian pointed out. “It’s like Elvira said; that Slow Orb won’t last forever. And there’s probably more ahead of us that’ll try to intercept us. We’ll be between a rock and a hard place.”

“…We need to find somewhere to hide, then,” the Treecko decided. “Hmm…” She looked around them. “…That side street there?”

“It’ll have to do,” Natalie said. “C’mon, Serafina. I’ll carry ya.” Her wings buzzed, and she grabbed her partner around the stomach, before flying over to where Arian and Elvira were running to.

They entered the side street, and immediately looked for a good hiding place within it, realising that there was still a good chance the group of knights could come down this way. All four pairs of eyes darted around, looking for something. An alleyway, some crates, even someone’s house if necessary…

“…Where can we go?” murmured Elvira, feeling somewhat frantic in their search. “There’s nowhere to hide…”

“You kids looking for something?” a voice suddenly spoke up.

The four looked over at a building that looked decidedly different from the rows of terraced houses that populated the street they were on. It resembled an old church, and had a garden out the front, where a number of flowerbeds lay and a number of children were playing.

The one who had spoken to them looked somewhat menacing, at least to Arian. He was a humanoid Pokémon with a lot of hair, to the point that it nearly covered his whole body, except for his face, torso, ears, and feet, which were all green in colour. He gave the four a questioning look, before his attention was soon drawn to Elvira, and a look of shocked realisation crossed his face.

“Um…” Arian began, before trailing off. How do we say we’re running from the authorities to an average man like him? He looks exactly like the kind of person that would tear us apart if we got on his bad side…

“Excuse me, Treecko.” The man spoke again. “…Is your name Elvira, by any chance?”

“…It is.” Arian noticed the change in tone in Elvira’s voice, and when he turned to look, he found that she was wearing a similar look of recognition as the other Pokémon. “…A Grimmsnarl…wait a minute.” Her eyes then caught sight of the sign in front of the gate, which read Grimmhatt Orphanage. “…Is your name Dalibor? And do you know my dad, Kallias?”

“…I do, indeed.” A warm look crossed the Grimmsnarl named Dalibor’s face. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? The last time I saw you was…goodness, was it really more than eight years ago? You look much more mature than you did then. Arceus, how time flies…”

Arceus? Arian pondered. That’s not the first time I’ve heard that name…Hm. I’ll have to look into that later.

“Everyone,” Serafina interrupted, who had now regained her breath. “I can hear the knights coming.”

“Knights? And you’re running from them, you said…” Dalibor murmured, before gesturing to the building. “Go in there. Trust me, you’ll be safe inside there.”

“Thanks a bunch,” Arian said gratefully, before making his way quickly inside the house, followed by his comrades, and to a wide-eyed audience of children.

“Don’t mind them,” the Grimmsnarl assured the children. “Now keep quiet while I deal with these knights.” The children all dutifully nodded, and made sure to say nothing.

“You there! Citizen!” a Watchog knight said to him, with a small posse of three other knights. “Have you seen a group consisting of a Riolu, a Treecko, a Meowstic and a Ledian travelling through this area, on the run from the authorities?”

“…Quite a crowd, that,” commented Dalibor. “No, it’s been all quiet here. I haven’t seen anyone pass along this street.”

“Hmm…” The Watchog narrowed his eyes, trying to see if the other man was lying. Eventually he turned away to his fellows. “By the sound of it, I don’t think they’ve come down this way. Back to Marshal Ludmila we go.”

“Yes, sir!” saluted the knights, before they left. Once they did, Dalibor let out a sigh of relief.

“…They’re gone,” he said. “Good job, kids. I’ll see to it you’re rewarded in some way later on.”

“Mr Dalibor?” asked one, a Clobbopus. “Who are those people?”

“…Well, let’s find out, shall we?” the Grimmsnarl replied. “Don’t worry, they’re not dangerous. One of them’s related to a good friend of mine.” He walked back towards the building, and opened the front door to its foyer, where the four stood. However, with them was another Pokémon: a Hatterene giving him a confused look.

“Dali? Who are these strangers that have just wandered into our home?” she asked.

“…A group that I’m sure will have an interesting tale to tell,” Dalibor replied. “We’ll discuss that over tea. Would you mind getting some prepared for the four of them, Cornelia dear?”

“…Alright, if you insist. …But that tale had better be an interesting one.”

 

---

 

“So…you’re a mercenary now, eh?”

Teams Anima and Elpis were inside the house, drinking tea prepared by Cornelia. The Hatterene was cradling her own cup of tea and sitting next to Dalibor as the four explained their story to them, chiefly by Elvira, whose history with the Grimmsnarl was not yet clear, but it would most likely be revealed in this conversation.

One of the first things the Treecko had done once they’d sat down for conversation was pull out her mercenary’s badge. Immediately, a look of recognition came into the older Pokémon’s eye.

“That’s right,” she said. “I’m a member of the Irian Guild now, with my mercenary partner, Arian. Together, we are Team Elpis.”

“Team Elpis…Hm, not bad,” praised Dalibor. “How’d it come together? Arian, was it?” He looked over to the Riolu. “You a childhood friend of Elvira or something?”

“Er, no. Not exactly,” Arian replied. “In fact, I only met her in the last few weeks. She helped me, and…on a dive through a Mystery Dungeon near Ozerograd, we found we worked together well. She’d told me about her troubles over becoming a mercenary, and I needed a direction to go in, so…we started an unofficial merc team together. And that became official once we met Melchior and joined the Irian Guild.”

“I see, I see…” Dalibor nodded, processing the information. “…So…” He got up and marched over to the noticeboard, and came back with a poster. He laid it down, and Arian and Elvira realised it was the exact same wanted poster that Ludmila had before. “Is it true, what this says here? You…defeated Hinnerk? Just the two of you?”

“No.” Elvira shook her head. “We had outside help, from other mercenaries. I can’t emphasise that enough. We would never have done it on our own.”

“Yeah,” Arian murmured in agreement. “Much as I hate to admit it, we’re still rookies in this whole merc business. …Sometimes I wonder how on earth we managed it…”

“…Well, however you managed it, that is quite an achievement,” Dalibor congratulated. “Kudos, you two. That good-for-nothing was always a piece of work. Great to hear of him being knocked into the dirt, where he belongs.”

“Agreed,” Arian said in agreement.

“…Moving on…” Dalibor turned to Team Anima. “How about these two lassies? What’s your story?”

“I am Serafina, and this is my partner and longtime friend Natalie,” the Meowstic introduced. “We are Team Anima, another team within the Irian Guild that is well connected with Team Elpis. …But pay us no heed. The bulk of your conversation is with Elvira, it seems. It has nothing to do with us. We would digress if we regaled you with tales of our own exploits.”

“…Whatever you say,” the Grimmsnarl decided. “So you’re all part of Melchior’s new posse of mercs. …I haven’t seen the man in the flesh for more than seven years now. How is he? Is he doing well these days?”

“He’s doing okay. At least he’s in his element, working in a guild again. And he is a good Guildmaster, able to get respect from everyone and do his job well as leader. But…” Elvira sighed. “It feels too much like something’s missing, seeing only him and not Dad nearby. After all these years…it’s a difficult thing to have to get used to.”

“…I can imagine,” murmured the Grimmsnarl with more than an ounce of sympathy. “…I’m really sorry about what happened to Kallias. I’ll admit when I heard the news…it was a right punch to the gut. That friend I knew for all of those years, fallen into the Agrios River…what a way to go. …It’s always a reminder that even the most glorified men aren’t invincible, and sometimes just how easy death can come to us. That’s a lesson I’ve come to know all too well…”

“…I’ve been trying to get over it,” Elvira replied, downcastly. “It’s been hard. Very hard. It’s not like I can just ignore the fact that Dad’s possibly been dead for five whole years. But…everyone in the Guild has been very supportive and sympathetic of me. I can’t thank them enough for looking out for me.” She nodded to her comrades in acknowledgment.

“It’s a good thing you have friends to help you out in times like that,” Dalibor remarked. “They’ll help you through it. …I can’t imagine how Melchior would feel, though. I couldn’t be there for him at a time when he was declared an outlaw and his partner was separated from him. …I guess reestablishing the Guild underground was his only coping mechanism.”

“Um…can I ask something?” Arian requested. “…You seem to know about what happened to Kallias. But Melchior’s barely told that story to anyone. How do you know about it? I thought you said you hadn’t seen Melchior for a long time?”

“I haven’t seen Melchior for seven years,” Dalibor clarified. “But in the last year or so, he contacted me through letters, and we’ve kept in touch. Of course, though, he hides his identity in the letters, as a precaution. …Still, though, I definitely recognise his handwriting. It’s definitely him. And as for how I know about Kallias…he told me about it in a letter that came three days ago. …Bit of an unwelcome surprise, that. Not like we need any more bad news these days…”

“Three days ago…oh, so it was after he told us about it,” Arian said. “I guess he found the bravery to tell you about it, then. He was hesitant about telling us, afraid of what Elvira’s reaction would be.”

“Anyone would, I suppose,” the Grimmsnarl replied. “…I think it would have been better to get in touch with you sooner, Elvira, especially over news like that. Still…what’s done is done. At least he told you in the end.”

“…” Elvira said nothing to this, wearing the same sad expression on her face as earlier when she was talking about getting over Kallias’ supposed death. Arian, sensing his partner’s discomfort, decided to change the subject.

“Can you…explain the history between you, Melchior, and Kallias?” he asked. “I…still need some gaps to be filled in. Like…were you a part of the Irian Guild once?

“I was indeed,” Dalibor returned. “You see…I was an Irian Guild mercenary, more than seven years ago.”

“Really?” This was certainly news to Arian, and to the onlooking Team Anima.

“Yep, sure was. I made a pretty Poké off it too, and I was pretty good. Not quite Team Marshwood’s level, mind, but I did manage to reach Platinum Rank,” the hirsute fairy elaborated. “That didn’t matter much to me, though. I became good friends with Team Marshwood, as they rose through the ranks to become one of the most legendary merc teams in the Guild’s history. Then there was also Mitrofan. Back in the day, he was actually quite an amicable fellow. He was a bit stern, but he recognised friends when he saw them. And there was no one in the Guild he was more friendly with than Team Marshwood. Their friendship goes back a long way, before even Mitrofan became Guildmaster and he was a mercenary himself. I don’t know the full story behind it, but it’s clear that those three had a good chemistry between them.”

“Wow…I never knew that. This rabbit hole keeps getting deeper,” Arian remarked. “…You seem to know a bit about Mitrofan. Would you…have any idea as to why he suddenly decided to throw all of that out the window and become a despotic dictator?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” Dalibor shook his head. “I wasn’t here five years ago, when everything went down. I was stuck in a coma during that time.”

“What?! A coma!?” the Riolu reacted.

“Oh…I remember this,” Elvira recalled. “Seven years ago, you suffered a brutal attack that put you in one…”

“…I did,” Dalibor replied wistfully, and the four noticed a look of hurt appear on Cornelia’s face. “We had a mission, Team Marshwood and us, where we set out to investigate a nefarious plot that was bubbling in Selenia seven years ago. However, our enemies…managed to get the drop on us, and on me specifically. I bore the brunt of an ambush, and they definitely would have killed me if given enough time. Thankfully, Team Marshwood came to my rescue before that could happen. Alas…not before I landed at death’s doorstep. …I still have reminders of that savage attack.” He pulled back some of his vast mess of hairs to reveal a deep scar across his chest, and a number of other scars across his body.

“That’s simply awful…” Serafina remarked, horrified at the Grimmsnarl’s story and the physical evidence of it. “I am so sorry you had to suffer in such a brutal manner.”

“…Being separated from the world was a weird one,” Dalibor went on. “Especially when I woke up three years later. Hearing about the tsar being assassinated, along with his family, that Mitrofan of all people had done it, and he was now sitting on the tsar’s throne, and he had dissolved the Guild and declared all mercs who didn’t side with him as outlaws…I thought the doctor was having a laugh. Only when I was discharged from the infirmary did I realise that it wasn’t a laugh at all. This was real.”

“…Were you in danger?” Elvira wondered.

“I thought I was, to be honest,” Dalibor admitted. “I was terrified, therefore, when Mitrofan himself came to the orphanage. I feared that I’d be locked up and the key would be thrown away. And most of all…I feared for the safety of Cornelia and the kids. They mean the world to me, and I couldn’t bear the thought of them being in danger.

“But Mitt asked me if I intended to continue as a mercenary. I’ll be honest…I had a long think about it there and then. Given what I had gone through, and the grief Cornelia and the orphans suffered through with me not there for them, plus all Guild mercenaries becoming outlaws, I…didn’t see any future in the mercenary business. So I made a choice to retire as a mercenary, in order to look after the kids here with Cornelia. I felt I owed them, after being indisposed for so long.”

“That’s understandable,” Elvira acknowledged. “If you wish to do that, then we’d have no problem with it.”

“I’m glad you understand. But…here’s the weird thing. …Mitt did as well,” Dalibor revealed.

“…What? What do you mean?”

“As in, he accepted my decision, and no fuss was made. You would think, with this perception of him being this ruthless tyrant, that he would try and coerce me into working for him or something. But no. He…was surprisingly cordial and sympathetic during the encounter.”

“…May I intervene?” Serafina requested. “I do not wish to doubt your words, but…would this not be because you pose no threat to him? That is how he rules; if you do not oppose him, then he shall not interfere with your life. Do so, however, and you will feel his wrath. From what I have seen and from what I have heard from others, this seems to be the case in Mitrofan’s Selenia.”

“…I didn’t ignore what he’d done,” Dalibor responded to that. “I asked him if it was all true, and he said it was. But he said what you said; if I didn’t oppose him, then he would leave me alone. He would help me, even. To prove his point…he donated a sum of money to the orphanage there and then. And even more strangely…he’s been donating fairly consistently.”

“Indeed. It’s been quite a lifeline,” Cornelia added. “Mitrofan did the same thing while you were in a coma, Dali, and gave money to the orphanage regularly in place of what you would normally bring for us from merc missions. It’s allowed us to keep this place in good condition, and none of the orphan children go hungry anymore.”

“…Okay, I’m confused,” Arian expressed. “So on the one hand, Mitrofan gives money to you all, forgives the debts of musicians, and…isn’t a complete despot. But…on the other, he unjustly murdered the tsar, took over his position, hunts down mercs like cattle and basically enabled Hinnerk to do whatever he wished in Ozerograd. …I don’t get him at all! Is he good or bad?”

“…I don’t think I can answer that question,” Dalibor replied. “If you asked me seven years ago whether Mitt was a good man or not, I’d say yes in a heartbeat. Now though…I’m not sure at all. It’s hard to say what really drives that man. I can say one thing for sure. …A dark cloud’s come over him. Whatever happened, he’s not the Guildmaster Mitrofan I came to know so well over the years. He’s a lot more…threatening, and prone to anger if you get on his bad side. The old Mitt was more calm and collected, and seemed to deal with any problem that came his way. The last part he still does…but in a more ruthless fashion. You will rue his punishment if you get on his bad side; hell, it’ll be your last big regret. …Whatever happened to him, it must have been something serious.”

“It had to have been,” Elvira agreed. “Mitrofan was a good person once. He had to have changed for a reason.”

“…You know, I’ve had a bit of a hunch for the last while,” the Grimmsnarl went on. “I don’t really have any evidence to back it up, but I wonder if it might be why Mitt’s behaviour suddenly took a turn. I think…it has something to do with Tsar Kliment.”

“Kliment? …But Mitrofan murdered him, didn’t he?” Arian pointed out.

“That’s beside the point. I’m wondering…if Kliment maybe did something to Mitt that drove him to kill him,” Dalibor brainstormed. “Let’s face it; murder’s a serious matter, and regicide is one of the gravest crimes one can commit. Then there’s Mitrofan, who was the Guildmaster of possibly the most prestigious guild in Ardalion, and who stuck true to his oath. …For him to break his oath and kill someone, and that person being the tsar of our country…it had to have been something monumental that caused it. Maybe…Tsar Kliment isn’t as innocent as we first thought. Maybe he did an equally appalling act that caused Mitt to get revenge by killing him.”

“But what did he do?” wondered Arian.

“Hmm…” The Grimmsnarl hesitated as he thought up an answer to the Riolu’s question. Then his eyes lit up. “I was thinking…could it possibly have to do with – ?”

“Mr Dalibor! Please, help us!”

“Hm?” Dalibor turned his gaze to the door, where two young orphans stood: a Bulbasaur and a Litleo. “Paige and Leo? Is something the matter?”

“Yes!” Paige, the Bulbasaur, cried. “It’s Rufus!”

“Why? What’s up with him?” Cornelia asked. “For that matter, where is he?”

“That’s the thing,” Leo, the Litleo, replied. “He…He went into the Catacombs!”

“What?!” Dalibor exclaimed. “But the Catacombs are forbidden to unauthorised entry!”

“We know! And we told him that!” Paige said in response. “But he wouldn’t listen! He said he was going to prove he was brave to us! And then he distracted the knights around there so he could enter!”

“We tried to warn him!” Leo added. “But…”

“He always was a rebellious soul, Rufus…” muttered Dalibor, before getting up from his seat. “…Stay here and mind the kids, dear. I’m going to rescue him.”

“What?” Cornelia turned to him, a worried look in her eyes. “Dali, you can’t! It’s like you said; it’s forbidden to enter the Catacombs. Even Mitrofan enforces that rule. You aren’t on his bad side, Dali, but…if you’re found out, then that might land you in hot water, and jeopardise your position with him.”

“…All the same, I can’t just leave Rufus all alone in that place,” the Grimmsnarl protested. “He might be a bold one, but even he can’t handle the Catacombs! What guardian would I be if I left one of my orphans to fend for himself in the Irian Catacombs of all places?”

“…We could go,” offered Arian. “We could rescue Rufus for you.”

“You four?” A doubtful look crossed Dalibor’s face. “You’re just as unauthorised as I am. I’m not saying you’re not fit for the job, but…if my punishment for trespassing there would be bad, yours would be incredibly severe. Mercs are already reviled by Mitt – if you enter the Catacombs, you’ll worsen that stain, and make any chance to prove yourself innocent even harder than it already would be.”

“But…ain’t that kinda beside the point?” Natalie pointed out. “We’re already on the lam; if we run into Ol’ Mitt, we ain’t gonna be able to say we ain’t a guilty bunch of folks. Arian an’ Elvira are bein’ hunted by ’em knights while we’re talkin’ here. Yer better off stayin’ here while we go find this Rufus fella yer talkin’ ’bout.”

“…She has a point, dear,” Cornelia said. “If they’re offering to help, we should take them up on it. Their names are already tarnished in Mitrofan’s eyes; what’s a little more wrongdoing? It’s better than potentially damaging relations with Mitrofan and risk losing the occasional contribution he donates to us.”

“…Alright,” Dalibor relented. “Please, rescue Rufus for us. He’s a young Growlithe aged thirteen. He’s bold and brash, and…while he’s not a bad fighter for someone his age, he can overestimate what he’s capable of. It’s best you rescue him before he lands himself in trouble.”

“Sure thing,” Arian obliged.

“…Oh, before you go, take this.” Cornelia reached for a nearby pamphlet and gave it to the group. “It’s a map of Iria. You should be able to locate the Catacombs that way.”

“Thanks very much,” Elvira said to her. “Well, let’s not waste any more time. Let’s go and rescue Rufus.”

The four left the room, the two boys from earlier sidestepping to let them pass. Dalibor watched them go, his gaze fixed specifically on Elvira.

Looks like your wish was fulfilled in the end, Kallias. …Here’s hoping she can keep doing it without repercussions.

 

---

 

“Hmm…ah, here are the Catacombs.” Serafina pointed to where the aforementioned location was. “…Alas, it is not near us. It will take some time and some amount of street crossing before we arrive,” she noted disappointedly.

“That’s not good,” Elvira observed, looking at the map herself. “The knights are most likely still on the lookout for us. We need to be extra careful as we make our way to there.”

“Understood,” Arian said. He looked up and down the street outside the orphanage, which, luckily for them, was quiet. “Let’s make headway. The sooner we find Rufus, the better.” He said this to each of his fellow mercenaries, but one look at Natalie reminded him of earlier. “Oh, by the way, thanks for convincing Dalibor for letting us do this, Natalie. You really helped us out back there.”

“Who, me?” The Ledian looked away shyly. “…I didn’t do nothin’…Y’all woulda said it better than me…I was just lucky. City folk don’t normally like my accent…”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Natalie,” the Riolu refuted. “Don’t let what others think stifle you. …If it helps, I kind of like your southern belle accent.”

“…Okay, I know I asked ‘fore, but…why the heck d’ya keep callin’ my voice a southern accent?” Natalie questioned. “This ‘nother of yer ‘human things’?”

“Probably,” Arian shrugged. “I can’t say I know exactly why – I still have amnesia, as you know – but I guess in the human world, we called people who spoke with that sort of accent southerners? Maybe those people came from the south of wherever I’m from in the human world? …Well, obviously,” he added, realising what he’d said was pretty obvious.

“…Fascinating,” Serafina remarked. “It is only a glimpse into human culture, but already I am intrigued. A pity you cannot remember, Arian. I would love to know more.”

“Yeah…sorry about that,” the human apologised. “…But anyway. We’re looking for a lost kid, not talking about the mystery of the human world. Let’s get back to focusing on that.”

“Of course.” Serafina held out the map, and mentally marked out a route to the Catacombs, near the north of the city not far from Iria Castle. She was the guide through the streets of Selenia’s capital, and notably, these were through back alleys and smaller streets that avoided the bulk of knight patrols. And even when they did happen upon knights, they were usually in small groups and able to be snuck around or distracted with a diversionary tactic.

This sneaking around did help them, and despite some close calls and tense moments, they managed to make it without incident to the entrance of the Catacombs. It was a noticeable building that stood out, with a temple-like structure at its entrance.

However…there was a notable oddity about the place that was quickly apparent to everyone.

“…Where are all the knights?” Natalie wondered, looking at the empty entrance. “Ya’d think fer a place they ain’t lettin’ folks into, there’d be a knight or two at least…”

“Indeed…that is strange,” Serafina remarked. “Could they be out searching for us?”

“All the better they are,” Arian replied. “Now we can go in there without being spotted.”

“…Good point,” Elvira observed. “Still…why would they be absent from here? Something doesn’t seem right…”

“Let us not worry about that,” Serafina replied. “We have been afforded an opportunity that we should not waste. Into the Catacombs we go.”

Making sure that they weren’t being watched, the quartet entered the building. Just like the outside, it was all quiet, with no one in sight. Looking around him, Arian could see some statues, along with torchlight for illumination. And directly ahead of them…there also lay a set of stairs leading down, where the rest of his teammates were heading. Not wanting to be left behind, the Riolu dashed after his comrades, and headed with them down the stairs.

However, as they did, a sensation Arian had become familiar with came upon them…

Irian Catacombs

B1F

“Wait, what?” Arian cried in shock as he looked around at the labyrinthine layout of the catacombs they had descended into. “This is a Mystery Dungeon?”

“…Oh. Did you not get that memo?” Elvira asked him. “I…thought you would’ve realised that.”

“I definitely did not! I wasn’t told that the Irian Catacombs were a Mystery Dungeon!” Arian lightly fumed. “…Guess that just made this search a lot more tedious, then…”

“…Y’all know how many floors this place is?” Natalie wondered. “Searchin’ fer this kid could take a while…”

“…I am sorry to say I do not know,” Serafina replied. “Plainly, those details were kept privy by House Ruslan and now Mitrofan, to keep curious types out of exploring the place. Grave robbing was commonplace in this area in older times, and still happens on occasion.”

Arian looked at the walls of the catacombs, and quickly understood the Meowstic’s point. A chilling sight greeted them – Pokémon skulls and bones lined the walls and complimented the brickwork. What species they were, he didn’t know – he didn’t even know a good amount of living species, let alone the skulls of dead ones – but he thought that it would indeed be a slice of heaven for grave robbers and other people with an interest in bodies and anatomy.

“…I don’t like the feel of this place,” Elvira said nervously. “We should get looking. The sooner we find Rufus, the sooner we can get out of this place.”

And so their search commenced for the Growlithe orphan. Every room they came across was thoroughly examined, and every feral they came across was dealt with. However, they began to notice a pattern after dealing with a Litwick.

“…There are a lotta Ghost-types, ain’t there?” Natalie commented.

“Well, that would make sense, wouldn’t it? After all, we are in catacombs,” Arian pointed out. “The living spirits of the dead, reborn as wild Pokémon set to roam this Mystery Dungeon until the end of time…” He attempted to give his voice a spooky edge as he spoke.

“…Please do not do that, Arian,” Serafina requested. “I never liked ghost stories, nor facing against Ghost-types themselves…”

“…Oh, right. You’re a Psychic-type,” the Riolu realised. “Ghost-types would have the advantage against you.”

“…Indeed. I have tried to search for a move that would give me an edge against them, like Shadow Ball. But alas…timing has not been my ally when scouring the Kecleon Shop for that particular TM,” she mourned.

“And I ain’t much better at dealin’ with ’em,” Natalie confessed. “I don’t got any fancy moves, just most of what Ledian learn usually. …None of it’s great ‘gainst ghosts…”

“…Right. So I guess Elvira and I will be the main offensive support,” Arian surmised. “…But you can still attack Ghost-types with your Psychic-type attacks, right, Serafina? …At least you can. It’s gonna suck, not being able to use Force Palm. …But, hey, good thing I took Galen’s advice and learned Bite. That’ll help us here.”

“It will. …But our battles won’t be in the bag,” said Elvira with caution. “Don’t get cocky, Arian. Remember what happened in Scree Canyon? Misdreavus aren’t the only Ghost-types with tricks up their sleeve.”

“…Don’t remind me…” the Riolu muttered, being reminded of the incident in question. “…Let’s just keep looking.”

The floor was scoured by the quartet, and the aforementioned Ghost-types were a common occurrence. However, Arian’s Bite, along with Serafina’s Psychic attacks and Elvira’s Assurance, which the latter had learned recently, proved effective means to dispose of the wild Pokémon in the Dungeon. And even if Natalie couldn’t contribute well offensively, she did at least have Light Screen and Reflect at her disposal, which helped her and her partners defend against the attacks the ferals threw at them. With this combination, things went fairly smooth for the group.

But unfortunately, a combing of the first floor yielded no Growlithe. And so the group headed downward.

Irian Catacombs

B6F

Five floors passed by, and still no Growlithe named Rufus in sight. As the group headed into the sixth floor, Arian couldn’t help but sigh in dismay.

“…This is getting monotonous,” he complained. “…How long do you think we’ve been down here? Do you think those knights from above have made their way back to guarding the place? If so, then we’re in for a rude awakening once we get out of here…”

“Worry about that later, Arian,” Serafina recommended. “We made a promise to Dalibor, and we’re not leaving this place without Rufus.”

“I know. It’s just…I kinda want to get this over with. We still have to find a way to get out of the city without being spotted. And worse still…Melchior and the others will begin to wonder where we are if we take too long.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Elvira replied. “Mercenaries are often out for jobs days at a time. It’s only if they’re out for an abnormally long time that they’ll begin to worry. Besides…with any luck, we’ll find Rufus and be out of here without incident.”

“…Hopefully,” Serafina added. “I must confess, I do agree with Arian that I would like this to be over too. This place, with its walls decorated in skulls and bones…it is deeply unsettling. I doubt I will be able to sleep tonight…”

“Agreed,” Natalie seconded.

“Well, let’s keep looking then. The sooner we find Rufus, the sooner we can get out of here,” Elvira said. Looking down one hallway that greeted them, she saw a Haunter approaching. “…And the sooner we can stop dealing with all of these Ghost-types.” She readied an Assurance, and prepared to strike the ghost.

However, the Haunter shot a multicoloured ray at the Treecko. In an instant, she fell to the ground, evidently asleep.

“Elvira!” Arian cried. “Is that Hypnosis that the Haunter used?” He saw the ghost cackle at its accomplishment. “Grrr, you’ll pay for that!” He ran towards it, fangs bared and ready to use a Bite attack. He lunged at it and landed the hit, causing the Haunter to reel back in anger.

“Arian! Allow me,” Serafina volunteered. “I can handle this one.” The Riolu obeyed and stood back. He watched as the Meowstic’s ears unfurled and she shot a Psybeam at her opponent. It did more than Arian expected, and enough to knock out the ghost.

“Wow,” the human commented. “Good job, Serafina.”

“It was nothing,” the Meowstic shrugged off. “I am aware that Haunter and its family tree have a weakness to Psychic-types. I could not help but exploit it. I wished to have the upper hand against a Ghost-type, for once. Pray forgive my discourtesy.”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Arian assured. “It doesn’t matter. As long as they’re defeated in the end.” He paused as Natalie took out a chesto berry and used it to wake Elvira. The Treecko let out a yawn as she woke.

“Nnnngh…” She rubbed her eyes. “Did that Haunter use Hypnosis on me?”

“Sure did,” Arian replied. “Come on. On your feet.” He reached a paw to her, and Elvira used it to get up.

“Thanks,” she said.

“No problem. Now…back to searching.”

They searched another while for Rufus. But like before, it turned out to be fruitless. And so the group found themselves going up the stairs once again.

Irian Catacombs

B7F

“So…another floor to search.” Elvira looked around at the various exits that greeted them. “Which way?”

“How ’bout this one?” Natalie suggested, pointing to the western exit of the room.

“Sure. It’s as good as any,” Arian said. “That way it is, then.”

They walked down the hallway, dealing with a Yamask along the way, before the group entered

“Oh, look, a slumber orb,” Arian noted, picking up an orb laying on the ground just by the entrance. “And an escape orb.” He picked that up as well, before his eyes happened upon the middle of the room. “Oh, and some money, too!” He went over and eagerly picked up a pile of coins near the centre of the room. “Gotta love it when Dungeons hand out freebies like this.”

“…Were ya a treasure hunter or somethin’ ‘fore ya lost yer memory?” Natalie questioned. “That’d explain some things ’bout ya…”

“…Maybe,” shrugged Arian. “But not necessarily. I’d think anyone would appreciate a freebie like this. No wonder people go wandering in Mystery Dungeons, if there’s potentially good stuff lying around.”

“…I suppose your logic about free items is reasonable,” Serafina replied. “But often people overestimate the peril of Mystery Dungeons, and that is why rescuing such people is a top priority for us.”

“Just like now,” Elvira pointed out. “Someone like Rufus would struggle to get through somewhere like this, given the strength of the wild Pokémon in this Dungeon. We need to find him soon. We’re already seven floors in…he has to be somewhere here in the Catacombs…”

Fuelled by this, the four continued their search for the missing Growlithe. Rooms were combed high and low, and the wild Pokémon continued to impede progress for them. There was a near miss when a Yamask’s Hex nearly took Serafina out, but the combined power of Arian and Elvira’s attacks, combined with Natalie’s quick provision of an oran berry for her wounded partner, saw the Meowstic’s energy regained in little time.

As they traipsed through a corridor that meandered, Arian’s ears picked up on something at the corridor’s end.

What is that? As they got closer, it soon became apparent to him what it was. It sounds like…conversation? Here? Are there other people in the Dungeon? …What could they be talking about?

“I hear conversation.” Serafina had picked up on it too. “Everyone, be quiet. Arian, what are they saying?”

“Just give me a minute…” the Riolu said, crawling closer to the room. Once he was in a better position, he could make out the voices more clearly. Looking into the room, he could see two figures – a Pidgeotto and a Mightyena. They’re not regulars in this Dungeon. …Could they be knights?

“…So Marshal Spiridon’s found that kid, has he?” the Pidgeotto was saying.

“Yep, sure has,” the Mightyena replied. “That damn brat…Who’s he to come wandering in here?”

What? The knights have Rufus? That’s not good…

“Well, that at least means we can go back to our stations out front,” the Pidgeotto said. “Thank the gods. I was getting tired of the darkness of this place. I know I guard it, but I sure as hell don’t like coming in here.”

“But we have to get to the end of this place first,” the Mightyena reminded him. “At least the stairs are right there. Now we can just…” he trailed off, as he sniffed the air.

“…Arseniy? What is it?” the Pidgeotto asked.

“…That doesn’t smell like ghosts. We’re not alone,” the Mightyena growled. “There’s someone else nearby. …In fact, a few of them. A few other intruders into this sacred place.”

“Oh no!” whispered a panicked Serafina. “We’ve been spotted!”

“Shh, don’t worry,” Arian placated. “I’ve got this. Elvira, hand me the bag.” His partner did so, and he rummaged through it, before pulling out what he wanted. Once he showed his comrades the item in question, their eyes all widened in silent understanding.

It was the slumber orb he’d picked up earlier that floor.

“What’s say we give those men forty winks to catch?” Arian whispered, a slight smirk on his face.

And with that, the human threw the orb at the two knights. Before they could react, the orb exploded in front of them in a cloud of smoke.

“What in – ” the Mightyena cried out, before he and his Pidgeotto comrade fell to the ground, and were snoring loudly within a few seconds.

“…It’s a good thing us mercs can just find stuff on the floor to use in these Mystery Dungeons,” Arian said, once he checked that the coast was clear. “I’d question it, but it’s just one of those Mystery Dungeon things that’s not worth questioning. …However, it can be very helpful, especially when you’re in a pinch.”

“…Quite. Good work, Arian,” praised Serafina. “That was solved without even a fist thrown. Now then…we need to move on.”

“…Yes. We need to get to the end of this Dungeon.” Elvira said, a serious expression on her face. “That’s where Rufus is located, if what those knights said was true.”

“Then let us make haste,” the Meowstic said. “We must not allow Rufus to remain in the clutches of the knights.”

“Come on. Let’s go,” encouraged Arian, who bounded up the stairs, followed by his teammates.

Irian Catacombs

Royal Crypt

Teams Elpis and Anima worked together to get through the rest of the catacombs. The familiar slew of Ghost-types, which included Litwick, Yamask, Gastly, Haunter, Duskull, Shuppet, as well as some other Pokémon including Baltoy and Bronzor, continued to be a constant obstacle to them, but they persevered through what was thrown at them. Despite their unsettling surroundings that never ended all throughout the Dungeon

What let the group know that they were at the Dungeon’s end that they could see no labyrinth of skull walls, but instead they appeared to be in an area that looked like a crypt of sorts. Multiple tombs lay on either side of them, and luminous orbs gave the area some dim lighting. Looking at the inscription on one of the tombs, Elvira let out a quiet gasp at the words written on it.

“What is it, Elvira?” Arian had noticed his partner’s reaction, and looked at the inscription.

Lazar Ruslanovich Ruslan

c. 3 – 61

“Ruslan?” Arian said, as he caught sight of the name. “I’ve heard that name a few times now…Isn’t that the name of the house that once ruled Selenia?”

“Yes,” Elvira confirmed. “…If I had to guess, all of those belonging to House Ruslan are buried here in the depths of the Irian Catacombs. There are many more tombs in here, look.” She pointed further along in the burial chamber, where many more sarcophagi lay.

“…Little wonder it is forbidden to venture down here,” Serafina murmured. “This would be nothing short of heaven for grave robbers. I should think the bones of royals would fetch a considerable price on the black market, or wherever such individuals trade.”

“…Y’know, all this talk ’bout royal folk is good ‘n all, but…” Natalie interjected. “We’re meant to be lookin’ for this Rufus kid, and those knights from ‘fore said he’d be here. …Well, where the heck is he, then?”

“This place is quite big…” Arian remarked, looking at the length of the place. “Let’s get to looking.”

They started the search. However, they didn’t have to walk far before they began to hear voices from further down the hall.

“Hm? …Everyone, be silent,” Serafina whispered. “…Who is speaking?” All four moved quietly down the rows of tombs, and found hiding places behind the sarcophagi. Once they were far enough down, they could see what appeared to be an altar, and four figures standing on it. The two teams hid behind two sarcophagi, and looked closely at the figures atop the altar. They were a Hawlucha, a black Marowak, a Growlithe…

…and an Aggron.

This sight made Elvira stiffen.

“Elvira?” Arian whispered.

“That’s…” She pointed shakily to the Aggron. “That’s Mitrofan right there.”

“Mitrofan?” The Riolu would’ve cried this out in shock were they not attempting subterfuge. Instead, he forced himself to mute his astonishment. “That’s really him?”

“Yes. But quiet, Arian,” the Treecko urged. “What’s he saying?” Arian took his partner’s hint and listened in, his keen ears picking up the conversation.

“…Why do you care, anyway? So what if you were friends with Mr Dalibor? You old men just love to live in the past, don’t you?” the Growlithe was saying. His voice sounded boyish and childlike, though it sounded prepubescent, as if the speaker was either before his teenage years or beginning them. That must be Rufus, then, Arian surmised.

“…Quit dodging my questions, boy,” Mitrofan then spoke, in an annoyed tone. “My relation to your guardian is of no relevance to the matter at hand. Why did you enter the catacombs? …And remember who you speak to. The wrong answer could land you in a world of pain, indeed.”

“…Fine. I came down here so I could say I made it this far. My friends were saying I boast too much and that I needed to prove my bravery. And what better way to prove it than by going to the one place no one would dare to go? …I made it this far, and I managed to make it passed, so…I guess you could say I proved that point!” Rufus answered.

“Bravery? You call that bravery?” the Aggron mocked. “Ha! You know nothing of the word. Did you, by any chance, think of the consequences your actions might have had should you have failed?”

“But I didn’t fail! I – “

“Did Dalibor’s coma teach you nothing about brushes with death? Did you not learn how fragile life could be? Or was your guardian’s teetering on death’s precipice just an event to be forgotten, was it?”

“…What? …What are you saying? Don’t bring that up! You don’t know anything about that…!”

“…You talk to the former Guildmaster who blamed himself for his friend’s incapacitation. I know a good deal more than a brat like you who refuses to learn life’s lessons. For someone of your ilk, the Irian Catacombs are a perilous place. You see all of these sarcophagi lining this room? …A number of those royals, in transporting their loved ones here, perished in the Mystery Dungeon and joined their kin and ancestors in death. That very same fate could have happened to you, were it not for the intervention of Marshal Spiridon and the knights. And what effect would that have on your peers? They would be devastated at the loss of a friend, and Dalibor and Cornelia would equally grieve for your lost soul that would’ve been lost in a foolhardy manner. And what’s it all for? …Bragging rights. A feeble excuse, when all is said and done!”

“…Shut up…!” The boy sounded like he was on the verge of tears, perhaps in realisation of the Aggron’s words.

“…A pitiful sight. He who boasted of his bravery before now sheds tears in realisation of his recklessness. You would do well to reflect on your mistakes, and consider what bravery truly constitutes! …Hmph. Get that whelp out of my sight, Marshal Spiridon. Take him back to the Grimmhatt Orphanage.”

“Of course,” obliged the Hawlucha called Spiridon. “Come on, kiddo.”

Wordlessly, the still snivelling Rufus followed him in compliance. This drew the attention of the four mercenaries in hiding.

They’re taking him away! Arian thought, and readied himself to strike the Hawlucha when he came by.

“…Wait. Don’t move.” The Marowak suddenly spoke up, causing Spiridon to stop. “Step aside, Spiridon.”

“…What is it, Nikita?” the Hawlucha asked, doing as the Marowak demanded, and the latter moved ahead of him.

The Marowak said nothing. Instead, he readied his right arm and threw the bone he was holding. The bone was thrown to the area of the hall where Teams Elpis and Anima were hiding, causing them to tense in nervousness. The ghostly fire on it burned brightly, and the flames on it spat a few smaller embers.

One of these happened to land on Arian, and he instinctively hissed in pain. He tried to be quiet about it, but it was no good. The Marowak’s suspicions had been confirmed; there were more in the crypt than just the four atop the altar.

“As I thought,” Nikita said. “It would appear we have company, Master Mitrofan.”