Chapter 18 – Reminiscence of Bygone Days

“Ah…you’re all back. …Good. I was beginning to worry about you all. Something tells me…there’s a good reason why you took longer than usual in returning here.”

Melchior was the one to say this, as Team Elpis and Team Anima descended into the Guild after trekking home from Iria. The looks on their faces all brightened when they saw their guildmaster; the exact person they needed to talk to.

“There sure is, Guildmaster,” Natalie replied. “We gotta tell ya ’bout what happened in Iria.”

“I could not agree more with Natalie,” Serafina seconded. “We must tell this story, and especially to you, Guildmaster. I think you, more than anyone else in the Guild, should hear our words.”

“…You seem eager to tell me,” Melchior noted. “Well, who am I to deny you? Come to the office and we can discuss it over some tea.” He turned to Rhiannon, who happened to be nearby. “Rhiannon, could you tell Aldebrand to make some tea?”

“Sure thing!” the Rockruff answered peppily, and dashed off to the dining hall to find the fire dragon.

Melchior, meanwhile, headed to his office, trailed by the members of Teams Elpis and Anima. When they arrived, they all sat down in chairs, with Melchior occupying the chair behind his desk. In a short while, Aldebrand entered with tea, which all five partook in.

“Right,” the Swampert said, once he had gotten comfortable in his chair. “Tell me from start to finish all that happened in Iria.”

“Boy, where do we even begin?” Arian said. “I guess…we’ll start with our missions, which went well. Rescue a Vivillon and get Amplifying Crystals from Lapis Grotto. Not much to say there – the clients were thankful and gave us the rewards when we met them in Karinina’s Inn. They were kind, if a little eccentric.” Well…how else do you describe someone like Dio?

“But when we went outside the inn, the knights had us cornered,” Elvira took over. “Marshal Ludmila, their leader, showed us wanted posters of Arian and I, and chased us. Luckily, we managed to evade them and went down a side street. And as it happened…it was the same street on which the Grimmhatt Orphanage was located.”

“The Grimmhatt Orphanage?” This caught Melchior’s attention. “Did you meet Dalibor and Cornelia?”

“We did. They were kind to us, and we had tea with them. Dalibor appears to be doing well these days, especially given what happened to him,” Elvira answered. “But…what was interesting was what he had to say about Mitrofan. …He thinks that he’s not a completely bad soul.”

“…I figured he’d tell you that,” Melchior replied. “He’s told me as much in our correspondences, about Mitrofan donating money to the orphanage. I think, however, the correct term is conflicted. Many others share that same opinion. They aren’t sure what to make of him, even now after five years in power. A fair amount of people do tolerate him, on the basis that for the most part, their lives barely change.”

“Yeah,” Natalie said, nodding at what Melchior was saying. “The folks in Karelia are like that. He don’t bother ’em, so they don’t protest ‘gainst him.”

“Hmm…” the Swampert hummed. “…I digress. Did you stay the night in the orphanage?”

“No,” Serafina denied. “We were then informed that Rufus, one of the orphans, had snuck into the Irian Catacombs. It was agreed that the four of us would head there to rescue him, despite the ban on entering there. It was a difficult Dungeon, filled with Ghost-types…but we made it through to the crypt where all of House Ruslan is buried. There…we did find Rufus.” Her face then darkened. “…He had been taken captive by Mitrofan, as well as…Nikita and Marshal Spiridon, I believe their names were.”

“Spiridon?” The name seemed to strike a chord with Melchior, but he didn’t ask further on this point. “…What happened?”

“…Mitrofan was every bit as bad as they say he is.” Arian’s opinion was quite clear on this point. “He called you and Kallias ‘cowardly turncoats’, or whatever it was he said, went on about the oath not to kill for us mercs, and kept treating us as threats to him. Then he attacked us. …It only took one move for him to knock us both out.” He looked down in shame. “I’m sorry we couldn’t put up more of a fight…”

“Don’t be. Mitrofan’s one of the toughest people I know,” Melchior replied. “It seems like he hasn’t slackened since overthrowing Kliment. It would take an exceptional effort to bring him down. Much as I despise the man he’s become, I can hardly deny his power as a fighter. …But how did you get out of there?”

“We used an escape orb,” Serafina informed. “But we realised the whole of the Irian Knights were on the lookout for us, and thus made a point of laying low. We were not entirely successful, if I am to be honest. The knights, led by Marshal Metody of House Kumiega, found us and chased us down. We ran and ran, and ended up encountering Mitrofan and Marshal Ludmila again. It was looking bleak, and we were very close to being captured.

“But as luck would have it, we happened to be outside Iria Cathedral. We escaped there, hoping they would take us into sanctuary. By a stroke of luck…there were priests there. But not just any priests. Archbishop Khariton, one of Selenia’s leading clergymen, was there. …As was none other than Pontifex Sansarn.”

“Pontifex?!” That earned a shocked reaction from the Swampert.

“Yes. It was nothing short of a surprise, but…an incredible boon for us. He admitted us into sanctuary, and also prevented Mitrofan and the knights from getting their hands on us with clever tact. I cannot give enough thanks to him for helping us in our hour of need. Now that we were in sanctuary, that was where we spent the night, safe in the knowledge that we would not be ambushed by Mitrofan’s forces.”

“He was truly kind, the pontifex,” Elvira added. “And…he told us something huge. According to him…Prince Leonid, who’s been rumoured to be alive, has taken sanctuary in Dresilian churches, and has been attempting to rally support to take back Selenia from Mitrofan. In other words…he didn’t die. House Ruslan lives on.”

“…So those rumours are true,” Melchior replied, sounding excited to hear of this revelation. “I’ve heard of them too, and…secretly, I hoped they would be true. …But now we have concrete evidence to go on. This is…good news. Very good news, indeed. …What a blessing that the pontifex was there. If I ever meet him, I shall certainly give him thanks of my own. On that note…does he know where Prince Leonid is exactly?”

“…Alas, no,” Serafina answered. “He said he would search through church records when he returned to Padavonum. For now…we are still waiting for that answer ourselves.”

“…I say we try and find that answer on our own in the meantime,” Arian proposed. “While we’re out doing our merc missions, we should keep an ear out for any tidbits of info about his whereabouts.”

“A good idea, Arian. I’ll tell everyone in the Guild that this evening, when we’re all here,” Melchior said. “Someone may well know something.”

“…I do wonder how he must feel about all of this,” Serafina murmured. “To be displaced of his parents and his tsardom…I have nothing but sympathy for His Highness’s plight.”

“…Did ya ever meet him?” Natalie wondered.

“…I have been at various functions attended by Selenian nobility, and it was at these that I met Prince Leonid and House Ruslan,” Serafina responded. “Granted, I rarely spoke to him, given my family’s status as a lesser house. But…he was cordial and friendly, from what I gathered. I should think someone like him would make a fine tsar. If he is at all like his father in terms of being a leader, then I would wholly endorse him to be the next tsar of Selenia.”

“His father…” That reminded Arian of something that he had wanted to ask. “I’ve got a question, Melchior. And maybe you too, Serafina. Did you know Tsar Kliment at all? What was he like?”

“…Indeed, I did. Back when he was still alive, he recognised Team Marshwood’s contributions to both the commonfolk and nobility in our many missions during our years as part of the Irian Guild. He even offered Kallias and I knighthoods and titles for our service to the Selenian people. …However, we declined, as we felt such titles would draw us more into the sphere of nobility and distance us from the commonfolk, who we associated with. That was Kallias’s logic, at least,” Melchior recalled. “I wouldn’t say he wasn’t haughty and without pomp, as nobles tend to be, but…at the same time, he didn’t outright scoff at the commonfolk as other nobles would. And in terms of stability as tsar, he didn’t suffer any huge unrest, and was able to keep the peace.”

“…I see,” Arian murmured. “But…did he have a dark side at all? It’s just…Mitrofan seemed like he was a good person at one point, before suddenly becoming who he is today. Dalibor thinks Tsar Kliment might’ve had something to do with it. He…might have a point. I’m beginning to think that might well have been what happened.” He turned to his partner. “Elvira, what do you think?”

“…It’s definitely a possibility,” Elvira agreed. “I’ve met Mitrofan a number of times, and you and Dad have talked about him a lot, Melchior. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person that would kill without reason, and especially the tsar of all people. …That theory about Tsar Kliment wronging him might well be true.”

“Of course, we’re not saying Mitrofan’s in the right here,” Arian added. “We’re just saying that…maybe Tsar Kliment isn’t blameless in all of this. Depending on just what he did…”

“Hmmm…” Melchior considered Team Elpis’s suppositions. “…You are quite right, Arian. Though I praised Tsar Kliment, I will not defend the man to death. There could very well have been a dark side to the man that I never saw. I am open to the idea that he could have incited Mitrofan to kill him.”

“But that in turn begs a question,” Serafina brought up. “What did His Majesty do that would drive Mitrofan to murder?”

“…I don’t know. If I did, I might be able to fathom his hatred for Kliment more,” Melchior ruminated. “But…there is something I have wondered for a while now. And bringing up the issue of motives to assassinate Tsar Kliment…I can’t help but think there may be a connection.

“…Rufina. Whatever happened to her?”

“Rufina?” Natalie queried. “Who’s that?”

“She’s…Mitrofan’s wife, isn’t she?” Elvira replied, though shocked realisation was written over her face.

“His wife?” Arian said. “Mitrofan had a wife?”

“Yes,” the Treecko confirmed. “Not only that, but he had children as well. …Three children, if I’m not mistaken. …I never did mention that. It slipped my mind.”

“A wife and children? …I…I had no knowledge of this.” Serafina was taken aback by this revelation. “…But why have we heard nothing of them since Mitrofan took over? The basis for any new dynasty is progeny to inherit their predecessor’s titles. And yet…this is the first I have heard of Mitrofan having any children.” A thought came to her. “Perhaps Mitrofan’s actions caused his wife to desert him and take their children with her?”

“A good suggestion, Serafina. But…I don’t think that’s likely,” Melchior denied. “You see…Rufina loved Mitrofan to death. Kallias, Mitrofan, Dalibor and I were all married at some point back in the days of the old Irian Guild. Though I dearly loved my own wife…of all of our marriages, I would say Mitrofan and Rufina’s bond was the greatest. They were attached at the hip, and the fact they had the most children of all of us says it all.” His gaze met Elvira’s. “…Not to say that your own parents didn’t love one another.”

“It’s alright, Melchior,” Elvira assured. “Dad told me before that they were deeply passionate for one another. …He even joked that he could organise a marriage between me and Stiliyan, their eldest son.”

“…Yer pullin’ my leg. Did that really happen?” Natalie asked.

“No, it was only a joke from Dad. But…I did get to meet Stiliyan a few times,” Elvira reflected. “He was an Axew around my age, and was eager and adventurous. He always talked about how he was going to grow up to be a mercenary, just like his parents. He was strong, too. We sparred a few times during our meetings, but I never managed to win against him. We got on quite well, and we were even pen pals for a while, but…we stopped doing it. For no particular reason, we just…focused on other aspects of our lives.”

“…Admired his parents and wanted to be a mercenary just like his parents? …He sounds like you,” commented Arian. “Your dad might’ve been joking, but…who knows? That might well have been a match made in heaven.”

“…Possibly,” Elvira shrugged. “…They had three children, Mitrofan and Rufina. The second one was a daughter named Nevena. She was an Aron, and she was a bit different. Whereas Stiliyan was all about adventure, she was a bit more placid, and more softly-spoken. She definitely didn’t take after her mother in that regard. But she was nice. I liked her.

“The third child was Luka, another Aron. He was only a hatchling when I saw him last, which was…seven years ago. So I can’t really say much about him.”

“…They all sound so vibrant…” Serafina observed. “Especially your description of Stiliyan. It felt as though he really admired his father, if he wanted to follow in his footsteps.” Her face fell in disappointment. “…I wonder how he, and Rufina, would feel about his father becoming the man he is today?”

“…It’s too strange, her absence,” Melchior murmured. “I believe that if faced with the situation of Mitrofan killing Tsar Kliment and taking over the country for himself, she would side with him, no doubt. The two of them, leading Selenia together…I feel as though Mitrofan would want that reality. But she’s nowhere to be seen.” A dark expression came over his face. “…There are only two likely possibilities I can think of about what this means, and neither of them are pleasant.”

“…What would they be, Melchior?” Arian asked.

“…Either Rufina and her children are being held hostage somewhere…or they’re all dead,” the Swampert answered. “I sincerely hope it isn’t the latter, but…”

“…Those would explain it,” Arian replied. “If Tsar Kliment had a hand in either of those…then I could see why Mitrofan would snap and kill him in revenge.”

“But why would His Majesty do such an abhorrent thing?” Serafina questioned. “I do apologise, Guildmaster, but as my house supported House Ruslan, I cannot simply take a claim like that at face value. It is no small accusation to make that Tsar Kliment engaged in kidnapping innocents, three of whom were children. And to what end? I do not wish to put stock in such an idea if it turns out to be wrong.”

“…You have a point,” admitted Elvira. “There’s still a lot we don’t know about the background to all of this. Part of me wonders if it’s as simple as what we’re making it out to be. Just what were the circumstances behind it all?”

“I’ve been pondering the same question for five years,” Melchior replied. “I’ve asked Dalibor this same question since reestablishing contact with him. And he has tried to wring the answer out of Mitrofan. Alas…we are still none the wiser. On the few occasions when they have spoken, supposedly Mitrofan dodges the question every time.”

“…Looks like it’s going to be a hard hunt for the answer to that one,” remarked Arian disappointedly. “…Guess that’s three mysteries we have to solve now. Where Prince Leonid is, what happened to Rufina and why Mitrofan murdered Tsar Kliment.”

“…We shall have to be on the lookout for any clues regarding all of those,” Serafina replied. “Whatever the truth is, we must work to bring it to the light.”

“Yes, we must. For all parties’ sake,” Elvira said. “…I think that’s all we have to report, Melchior.”

“…Alright then. Thank you very much for telling me all of that,” Melchior said gratefully, as the foursome got up to leave the room. “It’s given me time to mull over the situation around Mitrofan. Regardless of all he has done…he was a friend of mine, and I would love to know just what twisted him into the man he is now. Maybe then, I’ll be able to understand what drove him to do what he did.”

“We have your back, Melchior,” Arian said to him, just before he left the office. “We want to know the truth too. …Who knows? Might even be able to convince to turn away from being a tyrant,” he added, although he himself doubted his own words.

“…Maybe.” By the sound of it, Melchior thought the same. “But I appreciate your support, Arian.”

“Thanks.” And with that, Arian left the office.

“…Convincing Mitrofan to turn away from the path he’s on now?” Elvira asked, as the two walked back to their room. Team Anima had already retired to theirs. “…I don’t want to be pessimistic, but…I don’t see that happening.”

“I know. But…the possibility’s there, right?” the Riolu shrugged. “You never know. Besides…there’s still hope. That’s what our team name is all about. Elpis, the embodiment of hope. Or did you forget?”

“I didn’t. …Maybe you’re right. Maybe there still is hope,” Elvira replied, as the two reached their room. They went inside, and Arian immediately went over to the bookshelf.

“Hey, Elvira,” he asked. “What species is Rufina?”

“Oh, she’s a Haxorus,” she answered.

“Haxorus…” Arian’s paw prised an index of Pokémon species from the shelf, and opened it once he sat back down on his bed. Skimming through the pages, he eventually found the species in question: a green-scaled dragon with axe-like tusks and armour-like scales.

“…Interesting. You know…I could imagine Mitrofan marrying someone who looks like this,” he commented. “I could see the two of them as a couple.”

“Yeah…They did go well together, the two of them.” Elvira had come over to Arian’s side, and looked at the entry on Haxorus with him.

“What was she like? …Personality-wise, I mean.”

“…Fiery, I think would be the right word for her,” the Treecko recalled, thinking back to her meetings with the tusked dragon and what her father had said about her. “She was also not afraid at all to express her opinion. She would tell a lord exactly what she thought of him right to his face, regardless of how much power he held and the potential repercussions this could have.”

“That’s…quite brave,” remarked Arian. “She must have been quite a character.”

“Yes. She was quite far from a demure maiden, to say the least. …But she was a very good fighter. She was one of the few in the Guild that could go toe to toe with my dad and win. The same with Melchior and Mitrofan. …There must be an appeal to women like her. Apparently, she was quite a catch for some back when she was still single, to the point that even Dad – before he got married to Mom, of course – was interested in her.”

“But Mitrofan snatched her up, did he?”

“Yes. …Though, the way you word it makes it almost sound like he kidnapped her,” Elvira remarked bemusedly.

“N-No! I didn’t mean it like that!” Arian couldn’t help but laugh at his wording. Afterwards, though, he adopted a more serious expression, feeling slightly guilty about it. “I didn’t mean to say that. I know Mitrofan was a good man once.”

“I know what you’re trying to say, Arian. And yes, Mitrofan and Rufina did fall in love, and married as most couples do. Soon afterwards, they had their first child, Stiliyan, and had two more in the years to come.” Her face then fell. “To think, mere children like them being held hostage…If our theory of Tsar Kliment is true, then that’s despicable. It’s especially heartbreaking when I knew them personally…and even more heartbreaking to think that they could be dead…”

“Too right. That’s why we need to get to the bottom of this,” Arian said, feeling for his partner. “It’s just like what you said, Elvira – it’s best for all parties that the truth comes out. Now come on.” He got up from his bed. “We’re not going to find the answer sitting here. Let’s do a mission and see what intel we can find. Even tidbits of info might help us.”

“…If you insist, Arian,” the Treecko sighed, and followed him out of the room.

 

 

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Meanwhile, that night…

 

Nikita strolled the halls of Iria Castle. The castle might’ve taken on a regally impressive appearance during the day, but at night, while still retaining some of that grandeur, most of that had been taken over by the creation of darkness, and shadowy shapes formed from the glow of the bright moon and lit candles..

Over the centuries, claims of dead spirits roaming the halls were not unheard of among servants, and even members of House Ruslan sometimes insisted on the castle being haunted. However, for every claim, there were an abundance of naysayers rubbishing such stories as twaddle, and that those making these claims were merely hallucinating or imagining things.

It was easy to say Iria Castle wasn’t a haunted place. But patrolling the corridors at night, Nikita could see how some would claim it was haunted. After all, darkness was the best friend of a ghost, and compared with the lack of night vision present in many Pokémon, it would perhaps be understandable to think that moving shadows could be mistaken for spirits. Especially if one’s wits were not kept around them.

This was never the case with Nikita, though. The Marowak always made sure to be on full alert at all times during his nightly patrol. However, this was not to keep his eyes peeled for malevolent spirits. A previous him would no doubt have been quivering and shaking enough to make his mother’s skull rattle. But now, as a Ghost-type himself, he was at one with spirits, and the ghostly flames on his bone acted as illumination to seek out any potential assassins. They were his prey, and he had acted against a number of them who’d managed to sneak into the castle to murder Mitrofan. Safe to say, his quick diligence in dealing with them made him become known as a terror when it came to protecting his leader.

Some even compared him to Afanasiy, known as the Shadow of the Tsar and ward close to Ruslan, the first tsar of Selenia. However, given Mitrofan’s disdain for adopting the title of tsar, Nikita had opted for similar scorn when someone said that to him, even if they meant it as a compliment. And just as Mitrofan was known for ruthlessness towards those who dared transgression towards him, so too did Nikita adopt a similar line towards those who crossed him too.

Once a Haunter servant wished to scare him by hiding in a suit of armour and see if he could experience anything beyond anger and indifference. Nikita saw through his prank, beat the servant savagely with his club, and the Haunter was docked pay altogether for a solid month for this transgression. A punishment imposed by Mitrofan, once he saw the ire being exuded by his subordinate and the truth was extracted from the servant.

The relationship between the two of them was viewed as a bit one-sided, mocked by some as a master and servant relationship by those of a tsarist disposition. (Of course, these views weren’t vocalised in front of either of them, for fear of repercussions.) But Nikita refused to have it any other way. For all Mitrofan had done for him, he would gladly stay by his side until either one of them keeled over. And in the case that Mitrofan was first, maybe not even then.

“You’ll be guarding Mitt’s graveside when he eventually passes away,” Spiridon had joked to him one day. “Just like that old Alban tale of Kirkyard Cúán, the Poochyena servant that wouldn’t leave his master’s grave. That’s how attached you are to him. Seriously, Niki, your devotion to him is something else. You aren’t like the Shadow of the Tsar – you put him to shame!”

This attachment to Mitrofan that would make even the clingiest of mothers jealous, he couldn’t deny. But there was no man in all of Ardalion who he held in higher regard. For all the Aggron had done for him, he couldn’t be more thankful to him.

The charity of him when he as a young Cubone was all but a walking skeleton was something he would never forget.

 

 

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“A table for two, please. I’d like to get this boy something to eat. He’ll be dining with me.”

“Him? I am sorry, Guildmaster Mitrofan, but we have standards in this restaurant. We cannot serve a filthy tramp like him with a history of thievery and pickpocketing.”

“…What a vile way to treat someone. He’s only a boy, forced to live on the streets! Do you not see how languished he is? Have you no empathy for someone of his background? Would it truly kill you to admit him?”

“…We cannot allow a ragged thief into our restaurant, Guildmaster. Please understand that we in Lysagora’s White Swan have standards that we must – “

“You don’t appear to be listening. …Very well. I shall simply enjoy dinner at another restaurant. There are many more in town that would be humbled by the patronage of the Irian Guild’s guildmaster and wouldn’t mind the presence of a homeless Cubone. And afterwards, I would be all too willing to inform House Lysagora of this appalling lack of empathy.”

“Y-You wouldn’t! L-Lord Gerasim frequents this restaurant! L-Lady S-Svetlana too! Y-Your threats won’t work on us!”

“…Don’t pretend to lie. It’s not becoming of a bellhop of a restaurant this prestigious. I shall simply ask Lord Gerasim later, and he can tell me the truth. Which judging by the look on your face, is not what you are telling me!

“A table for two. I won’t ask again. If you don’t, I will take my patronage elsewhere and spread the word of your disgraceful service. I’ll tell Lord Gerasim as well. Would a highly-regarded restaurant like yours want bad publicity that could severely damage your reputation?”

“…Very well. I’ll find the two of you a table.”

 

 

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It had shocked Nikita just how much Mitrofan pushed that bellhop, all for his sake. But when he saw that the Aggron’s sincerity was genuine and when he finally got some food – good food, not whatever scraps he could find – in his belly, he couldn’t be more grateful. For the first time in what seemed like forever, the then Cubone felt happy.

Then things only got better. Mitrofan, knowledgeable of his squalor, offered to bring him back to Iria and stay in the Irian Guild, where he would have food and shelter. He couldn’t say yes quickly enough to this, and so it was arranged.

And as it turned out, Mitrofan also had a need for a personal assistant after the previous one retired. Though he assured Nikita he didn’t have to take up the role, given his young age and weakened stature, the Cubone was all too eager to oblige, as a way to pay the guildmaster back for his kindness.

Being called a runt all of his life also made him want to see to the reversal of that. So he saw to training to build up some semblance of strength. His poorly physique was a notable handicap at first, but after finally having access to regular, healthy foods for the first time in his life, he gradually began to overcome this difficulty he’d had all of his life. He built up his constitution over time, and when he evolved into a Marowak, his body was graced with lean muscle, and his combat capabilities became a lot more versatile, especially with the new ghostly flames that were at his command.

(Weirdly, he’d heard from Spiridon in more recent times that some girls fancied him. This, he wasn’t sure how to take. He came to the conclusion that relationships were an ultimate distraction from his duty, so he chose not to pursue them.)

And now, in this new age of Selenia, he was a figure to be feared, and was one of Mitrofan’s most capable men. His enemies viewed him as a real threat, and past rebels based plans on trying to lure him away from Mitrofan to assassinate the Aggron. Naturally, they underestimated his attachment to Mitrofan, and so such plans ended in failure.

Speaking of his superior…maybe it was time to get back to him. After all, it had all been quiet and uneventful, and there was seemingly nothing to worry about. He was probably asleep by this hour. Checking up on him, Nikita decided, was the best course of action.

He opened the door gently to Mitrofan’s room, so as not to wake him up. As it turned out though, this was unnecessary. For when he walked in, he saw that the bed was unoccupied. By the looks of its unfolded state, the Aggron seemed to have gotten out of bed after getting into it.

The room was one of sheer opulence, a leftover from the days of the tsars. The bed’s fabrics were made from the finest silk, and the curtains around the four-poster bed were dyed a fine violet. The carpets were of a similarly lavish design, with all manner of patterns weaved into it. It looked fit for a king – or a tsar, and indeed, the now deceased Tsar Kliment and Tsarina Yelizaveta were the previous owners of the room.

“I can’t express how much I dislike this level of luxury,” Mitrofan had remarked once to Nikita about the bedroom that he now slept in. “But…it’s been made already. It would be a waste to do away with it all. Instead, I must resist the vice of laziness that this place cultivates. Nikita…see to it that I do not fall into that trap like so many others previous residents of this castle have.”

And so Nikita made sure the former guildmaster kept vigilant. Thankfully, Mitrofan seemed to deal with this problem himself, barely using the room except to go to bed, and sometimes not even then. Insomnia wasn’t unheard of with the Aggron, and so sometimes he never slept.

The sight before Nikita, therefore, was not uncommon. For a split second, the Marowak panicked, wondering where Mitrofan was. But he collected himself once he looked to the balcony door, which was open.

There stood the Aggron, looking out at the night sky. The moon was full and shone brightly, and the sky was a canvas of stars with not a cloud in the sky. Lights from the city below them provided illumination, and altogether, the balcony provided a commanding view to be envied by many.

However, if Nikita knew Mitrofan, he knew that he would not be admiring the view. Usually, if he was staring into space like this…it meant that matters of the heart plagued him.

“…Can’t sleep, Master Mitrofan?” Nikita asked, walking to the balcony’s doorway.

“…No, Nikita, I cannot,” came the Aggron’s reply, without turning his back.

“Insomnia again, is it? …Is something keeping you up?” the Marowak wondered.

Mitrofan remained silent for a short while, before muttering an answer.

“…Reminiscing.”

“Reminiscing? …About what, exactly?”

“…Rufina.”

“…Oh.” Nikita immediately understood the Aggron’s melancholy. “…Is this because of your conversation with Dalibor the other day?”

“It could very well be. And I won’t lie…it’s torn open a wound of the past that never fully healed.” Mitrofan gave a long, sombre sigh. “…Right now, I’m trying to remember the finer points of our life together, Rufina and I. Sadness is an emotion I’ve become all too familiar with during her absence. Therefore, I’m trying to reclaim even some of that happiness, to cope with this resurgence of despair. …Even if it won’t change the current reality of things.” He looked to the sky, thinking back to younger days. Days when he was just a mercenary working for the Irian Guild…all before his life descended into what it had become since five years ago.

Back when I knew what joy and happiness were…

 

 

---

 

 

“So that’s the story, Guildmaster Yaromir,” a Durant said, inside the Guildmaster’s Office in the Irian Guild. “Don’t get me wrong, you’ve all been very nice to me here in the Guild. It’s just…I don’t think I’m cut out for the merc business.”

“Hmm…” a Wyrdeer, the aforementioned Guildmaster Yaromir, hummed, looking over the form before him. It was the one the Guild prescribed for mercenaries to disband their teams if they so wished. Two signatures lay at the bottom of the form. “Are you sure about this, Narcyz?”

“I’m certain, Guildmaster,” Narcyz, the Durant, replied. “Much as I hate to say it, I don’t think this is the right career path for me. I might be better off working in construction like my dad.”

“I see. …And what of you, Mitrofan?” Yaromir turned to the Lairon next to Narcyz. “What are you going to do now?”

“…I still want to work here, Guildmaster,” Mitrofan, a Lairon at this point in time, replied. “Being a mercenary’s still my passion. …I could maybe form a team with someone else?”

“You could. You could certainly be an auxiliary member for other teams, at the very least,” suggested the Wyrdeer. “…We’ll see about getting you another team member of your own. In the meantime, though…” He turned back to Narcyz. “…I bid you farewell, Narcyz. Though it was short, your presence in the Guild was appreciated. I wish you luck wherever you end up.”

“Thanks, Guildmaster.” The Durant then turned to his partner. “Good luck, Mitt. Hope you find a partner better than me. Someone who’s more in line with what a merc should be.”

“…Good luck to you too, Narcyz,” Mitrofan returned, as the Durant headed for the door. “Hopefully, you can find the path that suits you best.”

Narcyz left the room. With his now ex-partner gone, Mitrofan turned back to Yaromir.

“Hmm…you know, Mitrofan, if you’re looking for a partner to set a team…then I have a candidate in mind.” The guildmaster went through the files in his desk, before pulling out one.

Mitrofan gazed at the paper. It was a form for dissolution into the Guild. He looked down at the first name signed at the bottom.

“…Rufina?”

“Yes. Rufina. She’s a Fraxure. Quite temperamental and easy to pick a fight with, but a powerful fighter. She’s been an auxiliary for some time, but she’s longed to make a mercenary team with someone else who, in her words, ‘she can get on with.’ I’m afraid, however, that many have simply looked the other way around her.” Yaromir looked into the Lairon’s eyes. “…But would you like to give her a try anyway?”

Mitrofan considered the guildmaster’s offer. She sounds like a handful, he thought. But if her goals and mine are the same…then what’s the harm in forming a team with her? Maybe she and I might see eye to eye.

“…I think I will, Guildmaster.”

 

 

---

 

 

“Yup. Rufina, that’s me. …So you’re the guy who Old Man Yaromir told me to talk to? Mitrofan, huh?”

Mitrofan was in the Guild’s dining hall at the minute, opposite the Fraxure who had introduced herself. Judging by her tone, she didn’t appear too taken with him. Guess this is what the guildmaster was warning me about. If I want to get her on side, I have to make a good first impression.

“Yes. That’s me,” he began. “I’m without a team at the minute, and I’m looking to form a new one.”

“No team? Any reason for that?” Rufina inquired.

“…My teammate felt he was out of his depth, and wanted out,” Mitrofan explained. “…I can’t say I blame him. Not all of us are cut out to be mercenaries.”

“Oh, you too? I had the same problem,” the Fraxure revealed. “Pansy of a teammate decided to wimp out because ‘oh, being a mercenary’s not a real job’! Obviously, I couldn’t work with someone like that, so we broke it off! Tch!” she fumed. “If you don’t want to be a merc, then don’t join the damn Guild in the first place!”

“…I’m sorry to hear it wasn’t successful,” Mitrofan tried to condole.

“Don’t be! He only wanted a merc team with me because he thought I was like other girls!” Rufina continued to rant. “If he wants someone like that, he needs to go somewhere else! I hated his chat-up lines and sweet-talking me like I’m some damsel in distress! Why the hell am I here then, instead of cooking dinners for a husband, raising two children and being pregnant with a third? If he wants that out of me, forget it! I hope he never knows what it’s like to have pleasure with a woman!”

Mitrofan fought to keep a straight face at the dragon’s last remark. “…Y-You needn’t be worried, Rufina,” he assured. “I am not in this job for love. To help those in need, whoever they are, wherever they are…that, in my view, is a mercenary’s priority. Love always comes second before our duty to help our clients.”

“And to bash the skulls of outlaws in,” added Rufina. “That’s what I’m in this business for. I hope you don’t have a problem with that?”

“‘Bash their skulls in’…you don’t mean…” Mitrofan wondered, not bothering to finish.

“What, kill them?” Rufina guffawed at this. “If I did that, I’d be behind bars instead of here! You know the Guild’s policy around that kind of thing!”

“…Fair point.” The Lairon realised the futility of his question. “Well…we seem to be alike in our goals. Let’s put our teamwork to the test with a mission, shall we?”

“I like the way you think,” the Fraxure complimented, flashing a slight smile. “A hands-on experience is always best. So let’s go! Our first mission as Team…” She trailed off, realising something important.

“Crap. We never came up with a name.”

“Oh,” realised Mitrofan. “Well…” Instantly, he began to brainstorm potential names. The first few, he thought to take in the qualities of both him and Rufina. She’s a Fraxure, and I’m a Lairon…hmm…

One suggestion came to mind – a portmanteau of their two species’ defining characteristics – and he voiced it.

“Silver Axe.”

“Silver Axe? …Team Silver Axe…” Rufina pronounced the words to see if it sounded right. “…I like the sound of that! And you came up with it in no time at all! Better than my old teammate – he took ages before deciding on ‘Team Slasher’.” She grimaced at the name. “Yeah…Probably should’ve taken that as a sign that it wouldn’t last.”

“I can only agree with you,” Mitrofan replied, concurring with the name’s unoriginality. “But let’s put our unfortunate breakups behind us, and look to the future.”

“Sure thing, Mitrofan. …Let’s show the world that Team Silver Axe has something to prove.”

 

 

---

 

 

“My, Silver Rank, already?” Yaromir remarked, as he watched the Fraxure and Lairon before him file their certificates away. “You’re moving up the ranks fast.”

“Too right,” Rufina proudly stated. “We’ve worked our asses off to climb the ranks this quickly. Luckily, we work very well together, Mitt and me. Isn’t that right, partner?” She turned to the Lairon.

“Yes. Our synergy is really coming together,” Mitrofan praised. “We’ve barely been together two months, but already I can say that Rufina’s been a very reliable partner. …It’s certainly becoming satisfying to hunt down outlaws with her.”

That had been their primary focus; the hunting down of outlaws. Rufina hadn’t been kidding when she said she loved this, and Mitrofan had gone along with her. Of course, he insisted that they do some rescue and material-gathering missions to balance it out on the lighter days as well as solve problems in the same Dungeon as an outlaw request. The Fraxure accepted, but that didn’t stop her tearing ferals apart on these missions and giving her all in these battles.

Part of Mitrofan was apprehensive about this aspect of his new partner. But…strangely, another side of him rather liked her more ferocious side, and something within him yearned to see her unleash her brutal nature on wild Pokémon whenever they encountered any of them. He wasn’t sure why, but…there was something about her blunt, straightforward nature that, while admittedly a slight repellent at first, he’d come to enjoy from her.

“Well, glad to see you two have settled in nicely as a team,” praised the Guildmaster. “…You know…You’re among possibly the most eye-catching array of rising stars I’ve seen crop up in this guild in the last while. Team Marshwood are proving to be very capable, but your efforts are just as commendable as theirs.”

“Wow…thank you very much, Guildmaster,” Mitrofan said, feeling honoured. What high praise, and from the Guildmaster himself, no less!

“Keep it up, Team Silver Axe. You’re doing a great service for the people. I hope your name becomes an inspiration in the years to come.” With that wish, the Wyrdeer rose, and left the room.

“…Seems we’re doing quite good together,” Rufina noted. “Silver Rank already…Next thing you know, we’ll be knocking on Gold and Platinum. …Hey, you think we can make it to Grandmaster Rank?”

“…Maybe. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Mitrofan advised. “That’s still a long way off, and only the truly exceptional have been given the reward of Grandmaster Rank. …Let’s just focus on putting one foot in front of the other. I think we have the potential to reach a high rank, but it will still be a while before we reach Gold Rank. But if we don’t rest on our laurels and keep at it, then…it may come sooner than we expect.”

“At least you ended on a good note. I’d hate for you to bring down the mood,” the Fraxure said. “…Reaching a new rank…I think it’s worthy of a celebration. Don’t you think so, Mitt?”

“Hmm…We do have some earnings saved up that we could afford to spend a dinner on,” Mitrofan ruminated. “And it is getting close to evening. …Sure. I’d be down to celebrate this recent victory.”

“Great!” Rufina was very pleased to hear this. “You know the meaning of splashing out every once in a while. And now that we’re moving up in the ranks…we’ll have more money rolling in for these kinds of occasions. It’s good to have someone like you around, Mitt, who can manage the finances and other shit like that. Not gonna lie…if it were up to me, we’d probably not be in the best situation money-wise.”

“True.” Mitrofan was fully aware of the dragon’s affinity for evenings drinking in the local pub. “We make a good team, the two of us.”

“You said it.” Rufina held out her hand, and that compelled Mitrofan to reach one of his forelegs out.

They then shook strongly, signifying their burgeoning bond as teammates.

But maybe not just as mercenary partners.

Perhaps…something more than that.

 

 

---

 

 

“No! It’s not meant to be like this…”

It was meant to be a simple mission. Find some iron ore for a blacksmith in Miroslavsk that he needed for his business. It was one of their ‘calmer’ missions in between Rufina’s thirst for outlaw bounties. It wasn’t anything major, and Mitrofan intended for it to be that way. Just a simple mission, in and out of the Mystery Dungeon in no time at all.

However, they were in for a rude awakening. On one of the floors, they scoured the whole floor for the stairs. And when they came to the last possible place they could be…it turned out it was slap bang in the middle of the greatest bane of all Mystery Dungeon delvers.

A Monster House.

The duo were caught completely off guard, and worse still, they found they hadn’t adequately prepared many items like petrify or slumber orbs that would make the ordeal easier. Getting through the horde of ferals seemed to be the only option.

Unfortunately, they were massively outnumbered. Rufina found this out the hard way, after finding herself overwhelmed by the sheer number of wild Pokémon ganging up on them. Now she had fainted, and only Mitrofan, who wasn’t exactly in the best of shape himself, was still standing. They had expended nearly all their reviver seeds in trying to repel the numbers, and the hope of getting through was beginning to dim.

The stairs, Mitrofan could see. But the horde, though thinned by their efforts, was still a huge obstacle for them. A clean dash through to the stairs was impossible.

Mitrofan grit his teeth, looking at the Pokémon cornering him. Various Rhyhorn, Lileep, Loudred, Skarmory and Simisage crept up on him, each preparing to move in for the kill. The downed Fraxure was an ideal target for them, as was the waning Lairon trying to put up a brave front.

One Rhyhorn that Mitrofan was focused on moved in to attack.

“Get away!” snarled the Lairon, unleashing an Iron Head upon his adversary. His armoured skull crashed against the Rhyhorn, and it was launched back, going unconscious with only a whimper.

Mitrofan turned to face his other opponents. However, in that moment, he realised that something was different since taking out that Rhyhorn. Specifically, something different about him. An energy was suddenly coming over him, and he realised that this feeling was a familiar one.

…Back when he was an Aron.

Am I…? Oh please, let it be so! I need power more than anything right now!

Soon, white energy came over him, and his body began to morph and change. The one instantly apparent to him was his rise onto hind legs, and his forelegs seemed to morph into hand-like claws as he felt himself shift to a more bipedal stance. He definitely felt a huge increase in size and bulk, and his tail lengthened and thickened. Two horns sprouted from his armoured head, and pauldron-like armour formed at his new shoulders. Mitrofan opened his eyes, and saw that he now had quite the height advantage. As well as that, it felt as if a reservoir of power had been into him, and now adrenaline coursed through his veins. Suddenly…it was as if all the enemies before him, once a source of fear, were now effortless obstacles to brush aside.

He knew this feeling. He’d felt it before, when he evolved from an Aron into a Lairon.

And now…he felt it again, as he stood as an Aggron.

The evolution high…

His gaze happened upon the now noticeably smaller Rufina. He reminded himself that she was the ultimate priority. As her partner, I can’t leave her. I need to get her out of here first so I can heal her up. He looked towards the stairs, which was still blocked by multiple Pokémon.

Well then…let’s see what this new body can do, he thought to himself with a smirk.

He launched an Iron Tail at a nearby Lileep, and was pleasantly surprised by the force of the attack, which was now much stronger with his new, much heavier tail. He tested out his other moves, which all produced just as satisfying results; Iron Head easily swatted away a Skarmory, while the boulders from Rock Slide seemed to pack an even greater punch against the ferals.

He seemed to be carving a way through, much to his delight. A clear path through to the stairs was in sight.

Great. Let’s get out of here! Mitrofan thought, as he leaned down to pick up Rufina in his arms (a new sensation to him). Then he barged through, pushing all remaining ferals aside to climb up the steps.

To his luck, the room the Aggron arrived in on the next floor had no wild Pokémon immediately visible. That meant he could focus on reviving Rufina.

He dug through their bag, searching for the item he was looking for. Luckily, his new form made it much easier to rummage. He parted oran berries, apples, and orbs, until he found it – a lone remaining reviver seed. Mitrofan gave it to her, and soon the Fraxure was roused from unconsciousness.

…And nearly falling back into it when she saw her partner.

“Whoa! What the hell?! You evolved, Mitt?!”

“…I did, indeed.” Mitrofan didn’t bother to suppress his pride in this achievement. “I’m an Aggron now. …And I couldn’t be happier.”

A still staggered Rufina looked her partner’s new form over. “Hot damn…” she remarked, unable to get over just what a growth spurt Mitrofan had gone through in his evolution. She knew Aggron were by no means tiny, but…looking up at him, she couldn’t help but voice her thoughts on the matter. “I feel like a right midget now.”

“Don’t sweat it. You’ll probably evolve yourself before long,” assured the Aggron. “Then you won’t be as small to me.”

“…Yeah. Maybe it’s time to really focus on that,” the Fraxure decided. “That’s my new goal now; to evolve into a Haxorus. And I’m gonna give it my all towards achieving that!”

“I’ll support you all the way,” Mitrofan assured. “…But let’s finish this mission first. Let’s not forget why we’re here to begin with.”

The Aggron turned to head towards one of the room’s exits. However, his new bipedal stance proved to be a test for him in that moment. One step proved awkward, and before he realised it, he had fallen face-first to the ground.

“Oww…” he moaned. “Damn this new stance! Being on four legs was much easier!”

Combined with the sight before her and the remark of her partner, Rufina burst out in laughter, clutching her stomach with how much she was laughing. And Mitrofan, seeing the humour of the situation and finding the Fraxure’s laughter contagious, joined in.

It was an evident sign of great relations, that the two were getting on very well indeed.

Relations great enough…to transform into something else.

 

 

---

 

 

Platinum Rank. It had once seemed a distant fantasy to achieve such a high standing to Mitrofan, when he was merely a rookie in his previous team with Narcyz.

But now, after many months of slaving away at missions and outlaw hunting, Team Silver Axe had achieved just that. It was a remarkably short time for a team to achieve Platinum Rank that quickly, Yaromir had noted, given that many other mercenary teams often took at least two years to get to that stage. And yet, Mitrofan and Rufina had achieved it in less than that time.

In that time, more had been achieved. Rufina had seen to getting stronger in order to evolve. She upped the amount of the time she spent in training sessions, and gave her all when fighting ferals in Mystery Dungeons, sometimes going out of her way to hunt them down. Mitrofan encouraged her, and acted as backup in case things went south when fighting wild Pokémon. He also acted as a partner for her in training, seeking to keep his new form in shape and to fight with the new stance on being on hind legs.

Finally, her efforts paid off. One day while training, she found her form changing to a bigger dragon with axe-like tusks and yellowish-green scales. There was a whoop of delight from her, and Mitrofan could only congratulate his partner on achieving her goal.

It wasn’t long after this that they reached Platinum Rank. This was a cause for celebration, and so the duo found themselves in The Dragon’s Rest, a pub and inn in Iria that Rufina frequented. Mitrofan came to know it well, and got to know a number of regulars there.

But now Team Silver Axe was a name on the rise, and a number of patrons cheered the group as they walked in and sat down at a table.

“A toast for greater times to come,” Mitrofan proclaimed, when the wine was brought to them. The innkeeper had some in the pantry for special occasions, and allowed the duo to have it given their accomplishments.

“Hear, hear,” Rufina seconded, holding up her own glass. “It’s all going so well…I hope it can keep being like this.”

“As long as we don’t rest on our laurels and get complacent, we should be alright,” Mitrofan assured. “Some mercenary teams have done just that in the past and it’s never ended well for them. Using their earnings to indulge in luxury and lose themselves to the vice of laziness…it’s unfortunately an easy trap to fall into once a team becomes famous.”

“…Good thing you’re around to keep me in order,” the Haxorus thanked. “I might well have fallen into that trap if you’re weren’t around to keep me restrained.” She downed her glass of wine, and grabbed the bottle to refill it.

“If you say so. But…I have to thank you too, Rufina,” Mitrofan returned. “You’re braver than I am. You’re the one choosing the challenging missions that yield high rewards. I was always a cautious sort as a rookie. …Perhaps too cautious. I might have still remained in Bronze Rank if you hadn’t shown up. Together, with you…I feel the will to be more daring, to face up against challenging foes and delve into Mystery Dungeons I would have shuddered to even think about entering.”

“…Yeah. We really compliment each other’s weaknesses,” noted Rufina, taking another swig of wine. “You think that’s the formula to our success?”

“Possibly. Whatever we do…it’s certainly working.” Mitrofan took a sip of his own wine. “…You’re a great teammate, Rufina. I wouldn’t want anyone else as my mercenary partner.”

“…Really?” Rufina had not expected such high praise for her partner. “No one else? Are you serious, Mitt? Do you really mean it?”

“…I do,” the Aggron replied. “Like I said, you’ve really helped me to overcome my anxieties about taking on challenging missions and facing off against dangerous outlaws. As I see it, Team Silver Axe is a joint effort between us as leaders. There is no one ‘boss’ of the team. We stand for each other. Neither of us are perfect, of course; that is merely the way we are as Pokémon. But…the way we cover for our weaknesses is near to a perfect combination. I mean it when I say that no one else could take your place for me.”

“Mitt…” The Haxorus felt incredibly touched by his words. He could be quite kind when he wanted to be, but this was perhaps the most heartfelt thing she’d heard him say to her. It was definitely heartfelt – her partner was never one to lie or grossly exaggerate. Therefore, she saw his words as the absolute truth.

She was happy to hear this. Because…now she felt confident to admit a truth that she had only been more sure about in recent times.

“Me too, Mitt,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t want anyone else as my partner too! You always keep a level head and take care of all the complicated team stuff that I wouldn’t be interested in at all. Like money. Really, Mitt…I don’t know where I would be without you. Definitely not in Platinum Rank, that’s for sure. What I’m trying to say is…you’ve made my life a whole lot better. I’m…glad you came into my life.”

“Rufina, you…really feel that way about me?” Mitrofan sounded surprised to hear this.

“Yes, Mitt. In fact, you know what? I’ll just come right out and say it.” The Haxorus gripped the table, and pushed it to the side. Then she got up, went over to Mitrofan and did something that drew the attention of just about everyone in the inn’s dining room.

She kissed him right on the mouth.

Mitrofan’s eyes widened in shock at this. But he was only more floored by what came next.

“I love you, Mitt!” Rufina exclaimed, once she retracted from the kiss.

“Wh-What?!” Mitrofan cried out. “You…Rufina…you…” He was too flustered to form a complete sentence.

“Look, maybe it’s just the alcohol talking. Maybe I’ll regret admitting this and it’ll screw this all up. But…” The Haxorus looked at her partner directly in the eye. “I love you, Mitt. Not just as a partner, but as a person too. I don’t know when I started loving you. I think it was when you evolved and saved me from that Monster House. That’s when I…really began to consider it. But now I’m sure more than ever! Mitt, I love you! I mean it!”

The sincere words took Mitrofan aback considerably. She…loves me. Romantically? Truly? She even kissed me…What do I say? I’ve never been in a situation like this! He briefly panicked, thinking of a response.

But he managed to compose himself internally and come to a conclusion. …Maybe it’s time I take a leaf out of Rufina’s book and unleash some brutal honesty of my own. I don’t know how deep her love runs, but…it would be wrong to withhold my own feelings.

“I…appreciate your words, Rufina,” the Aggron began. “And…you are very dear to me. Like I said, I wouldn’t trade you as a mercenary partner for anyone else. …I must admit to you…I’ve never been in a relationship. I don’t know what it means to romantically love someone. I’ve never had that feeling in my life. I’ve never been bold enough to give romance a shot. But…your bravery compels me to be honest, and so I…must admit what I think are my feelings.” He took a breath, before admitting it.

“I love you too, Rufina.”

“Mitt…” Tears of joy sprung from the Haxorus’ eyes. “Oh, Mitt! Thank you so much!” She gave him a hug, as best she could with her short arms and his large bulk. “I…really thought I’d made a fool of myself there. …Please, Mitt, tell me it’s true. You really love me?”

“I do, Rufina.” Mitrofan smiled brighter than he thought he ever had in his whole life. “I’m…really glad you came into my life. You’re the closest companion I’ve ever had, and I can’t be thankful enough for it.” He leaned forward, and Rufina’s eyes widened, realising what he was about to do.

She eagerly returned his gesture, kissing him passionately. Mitrofan in turn found his own bliss in kissing the woman who he admitted his love for. A new sensation, the greatest show of affection he’d ever received or reciprocated in his life until that point, was apparent to him.

Is this what love is…?

Alas, to his immense dismay, Rufina broke off the kiss. A gesture of annoyance overtook her when her eyes saw the patrons with their eyes glued to the pair. None of them dared to make a sound, and all of their attention was focused on Team Silver Axe’s newfound feelings for one another.

“Hey, stop gawking!” she yelled out at them, before turning back to her partner. “…Mitt…maybe we should take this someplace else. Somewhere upstairs. Somewhere where we can have a bit of…privacy.“

The look she gave him and the tone in which she delivered that last word made Mitrofan do a double take as he realised the implications of this. His heart raced, and a side glance towards their current audience made him realise that…he’d rather they didn’t gaze at them like they were a theatre act.

He’d rather their epiphany of love take place somewhere where they wouldn’t be interrupted.

And judging by Rufina’s prior words…he definitely didn’t want to be interrupted for what might be coming next for him.

 

 

---

 

 

“Hah…hah…” panted Rufina. “Wow…that was…something.”

“It sure was.” Mitrofan could only agree, as he lay next to her in their room’s double bed. His heart was beating a mile a minute, in sheer exhilaration and partial disbelief at what had just happened in the past few minutes. Certainly, if he was told even this morning that it would culminate into this, he would laugh at the very thought.

But…it had come to pass. And though a voice in the back of his mind whined that it was morally wrong and he would be given hell for this if he found out, Mitrofan was sure about one thing.

I do not regret at all what I just did.

And by the looks of it, Rufina didn’t seem to regret it either. She just gazed at him lovingly.

“…I knew I made the right choice,” she murmured. “And for your first time, Mitt…you were pretty good.” She moved in to give him some kisses on the nape of his neck.

“…Thanks,” Mitrofan breathed. “…Have you…been through this before, Rufina? You seemed to know what you were doing.”

“Yeah, I have,” confessed the Haxorus. “I had a boyfriend some time back, before I joined the Guild. He was alright, but…we split up not long after we began doing each other. Besides…you were much better than his sorry ass. You don’t have to worry about me going back to him.”

“…I’m glad you think that,” the Aggron replied.

The two were silent as they gazed up at the ceiling. Some of the euphoria still remained from before, and they basked in it, content with the current situation. If time stopped there and then, Mitrofan and Rufina would be perfectly happy to remain that way if it meant the feelings of the occasion could be preserved.

The silence was eventually broken by Rufina.

“So…what now?”

“What now?” Mitrofan turned to face her. “You mean…for us?”

“Yeah. You know…I think we’ve really struck gold together, the two of us. I…want this happiness to last,” Rufina admitted. “But I feel we’ve jumped straight to the sex rather than all of the stuff you’re meant to do in a relationship before that.”

“…That doesn’t mean we can’t do things like go on dates,” Mitrofan replied. “I would certainly like that, between missions. I, too, want this happiness between us to last. …Then maybe at some point in the future, we can marry and…enjoy our bliss as a married couple.”

“Yeah…That sounds nice.” Rufina smiled. “But…maybe we can think about those kinds of things in the morning. I wanna get some shut-eye.”

“Yes…I agree.” The Aggron felt tiredness encroaching on his own end. “…Our first sleep as a couple in the same bed. I couldn’t agree more to that. Come here, Rufina.”

“Sure thing.” The Haxorus moved closer to her lover – her lover, that she happily reminded herself. Wrapped in the comfort of the arms of his larger form, she had no trouble getting off to sleep.

 

 

---

 

 

“Mitt…there’s something I need to tell you.”

The two were on a rescue mission in a Mystery Dungeon, known as Craggy Canyon, at the foot of the Empyrean Mountains in southeastern Selenia. But this was a strange instance in which the duo did not leave immediately after rescuing the one in need. This had already been done, finding the missing Butterfree on the sixth floor, but to Rufina’s surprise, Mitrofan insisted that they carry on until the end of the Dungeon.

She had come to know him well. She knew he had good reason to insist this. Knowing him…it might well have been to reveal something important. Given the love that was blossoming between them…she went along with it.

However…she had a revelation of her own to tell him. And she wasn’t sure what his reaction would be.

“What would that be?” asked Mitrofan, as they walked through a corridor.

“…I can’t tell you about it here,” the Haxorus replied. “I’d…rather tell you when we won’t be jumped on by a feral.”

“…Fair enough,” Mitrofan conceded. “We’re on the last floor of this place anyway. Once we find the stairs, we’ll be at the end.”

Not long after that, after going through a few more rooms and effortlessly dealing with any wild Pokémon that stood in their path, Mitrofan and Rufina found the stairs. They went up the stairs to the final floor, and what was awaiting Rufina was a glorious sight.

It happened to be evening, and the rays of the setting sun painted a beautiful picture on the landscape that could be seen below them. They were far from high up in the Empyrean Mountains – indeed, many more mountains dominated the rocky outcropping where they were now – but the view was enchanting enough to more than satisfy those seeking a picturesque outlook.

It was the perfect place for what Mitrofan planned to reveal to Rufina. However…what she said nagged at him, and he wanted to know what it was.

“So, Rufina,” he began, once they had a quick look around to make sure they were alone. “What do you want to tell me?”

The Haxorus was silent, considering her words. Mitrofan noted that she seemed oddly fidgety, as if she was nervous to admit the truth. This observation, he was correct on; Rufina was agonising over whether what she was about to tell him would spoil the atmosphere between them. The last few weeks between them as a couple had been some of the best and happiest times she’d ever experienced. She was certain of her love for the Aggron. Therefore…she was wracked with the fear that her news would destroy all of that.

You’re going to have to tell him at some point, she told herself. Might as well be now, before things get complicated later on.

“…Is it good or bad?” Mitrofan’s question snapped her out of her thoughts.

“…Depends on how you look at it,” Rufina answered. “…But I just…really don’t want this to ruin this relationship we have going right now.”

“Well, what is it, then? Admitting it is the only way we’ll find out.”

“…You’re right.” The dragon took a long, deep breath, and began. “I…haven’t been feeling right in the past few days. You’ve surely noticed that, right?”

“…I have, actually,” Mitrofan noted. “You’ve gone to bed early for a few nights now. That’s…not like you at all. It’s a bit different from the days when you’d party until the sun came up, and I’d have to come and get you so you’d wake at a reasonable hour.” That had been in their earlier days. It hadn’t been all smooth sailing; Team Silver Axe had their moments of tension and arguing throughout their tenure.

“Well, I went to see Helena to check that it wasn’t anything serious. But when I told her of my symptoms, she…came to a conclusion that’s pretty plausible. I…still can’t believe it…” Her voice trembled, fearful of having to admit the truth.

“…What is it, Rufina?” Mitrofan noticed his partner’s fear, and dark thoughts came into his head. Is it serious? Please tell me it isn’t…

Rufina then said it. The truth that she was afraid to confess.

“Mitt…I think I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant?!” The Aggron reeled back in shock. “…How? The two of us, we’ve only mated once! We’ve never done it since!”

“Yeah, well…that might’ve been enough. I definitely haven’t been with any other men. …But that’s not important to me.” Rufina shook her head. “Mitt…you…are you okay with this? The fact that I’m with child before we’ve even decided to marry? It’s just…” Once again, that fear came to the fore. “…I really don’t want this to ruin everything. Please, Mitt…please stay with me…”

“Rufina…” Mitrofan felt moved by his lover’s emotion. And that compelled him to quell her fears. “…I wouldn’t dream of leaving you over this. A child, together…it’s every couple’s dream. I’ve always wanted a child to call my own one day. And…I’m all too glad I’m having a child with you, the woman I love. Who cares if it was premarital conditions we had a child under? I don’t care – for you, I would gladly make an exception.”

“Mitt…!” Rufina sniffled, trying to hold back tears.

“…That being said…” Mitrofan continued. “If we are to have a child together, and look after it as parents, then there is one thing we must do first. In fact, I had planned to do this from the beginning. But…your announcement now is all the more reason to do this.”

He rummaged through their bag, until he found the item in question. He’d smuggled it in and kept it secret from Rufina the whole time. There was good reason for this, of course. Showing to her would ruin the whole surprise.

He took out a small box, got on his knee and opened the box to reveal a ring.

“Will you marry me, Rufina?”

“…” Rufina was stunned by the gesture, so much so it took her a few seconds to reply.

“Marry you?” Despite emotion still gripping her voice, she tried to steer towards a response more typical of her, after taking another deep breath. “…What the hell do you think my answer’s going to be, after experiencing the greatest time of my life with you these past few weeks? I’d be mad if I turned you down!”

Mitrofan smiled. That’s her, alright. The woman I want to marry…

“…Of course I’ll marry you,” she said, a warm smile across her face. “I’ve already said a million times that I love you. And I’ll say it a million times more if you aren’t already convinced.”

“…Don’t worry, I am,” assured the Aggron. “I love you dearly, Rufina. More than anyone else on this continent, and in this world.”

“I know you do. Hell…there’s physical proof of that now.” Rufina pointed to her belly. “Guess we got a headstart on that side of things, huh?”

“Indeed we did. …That’s also what I meant earlier by more reason behind the proposal,” explained Mitrofan. “I have a responsibility – two, actually – now that I’ve fathered a child. To never leave your side…and to see to it our child grows up with a father.”

“I hope so,” Rufina stated. “I’d never forgive you if you ran off like other men would do.” She dropped this topic briefly, to take the box from her lover. “…Nice ring. Where’d you get it?”

“A jeweller’s in Lukomoria,” Mitrofan answered. “I knew a man who did wedding rings, and I asked him to craft a pair for me. He did a fine job.”

“And you picked a damn good time and place to present it.” Rufina gestured out over the land and the setting sun. “That’s one hell of a view. …I hope I don’t ever forget this moment.”

“Nor do I,” her lover, or rather her fiancé, replied. “…Do you want to watch the sun set?”

“…Sure. You wanna roast some berries while we’re at it? There’s enough sticks and flintstones here to make a fire.”

“Yes, I would like that.”

And so that became their evening, with the newly engaged couple enjoying their first meal as one. Once she’d gathered materials for the fire and got it started, Rufina lay next to Mitrofan, who wrapped his arm around her in a comforting gesture. They watched, as the sun began to dip below the horizon and the night sky began to lay out its canvas.

“…We must tell everyone about this when we get back.” Mitrofan’s words broke through the content silence.

“…Yes. We must.” Rufina could only agree.

 

 

---

 

 

“…Another week over as Guildmaster.” Mitrofan’s voice sounded exhausted as he lay back against the sofa. “I tell you…I don’t know how Yaromir did it. All that administration, and organisation, and restocking food supplies, and the sheer logistics of it all…” He let out a long, deep sigh. “It sure hasn’t been easy…”

“You think that’s hard?” A snort came from the other couch, and the Aggron looked over to see Rufina. “Try looking after this little scamp for a week. You’ll be absolutely floored after two days.”

Notably, she wasn’t alone. In her arms lay a tiny Axew, bundled in a small blanket. It was a little boy, who Mitrofan and Rufina had named Stiliyan. The married couple were immensely proud of him, and he won the hearts of any visitors who saw him with his cuteness.

As he was a hatchling, though…he did come with all of the difficulties of raising a baby like him, as Rufina had found out. The Haxorus had many sleepless nights thanks to him, and it got to the point where her body clock had been adjusted to wake up in the middle of the night to look after him. Still, it wasn’t unusual – many mothers Rufina sought the advice of had informed her of difficulties such as this, and also, her good friend Zenobia, who was now married to Kallias and had her own daughter, a Treecko named Elvira, had similar difficulties with her own newborn.

“…I see he takes after you, then,” Mitrofan playfully joked.

“…You’re lucky I love you more than anything, otherwise I’d give you a right hiding for that,” Rufina muttered. “…I’d say he takes after you in some ways. He definitely has your eyes, for one. And you know what? I bet he’ll grow up admiring you. After all…being the new guildmaster of the Irian Guild is nothing to sneeze at. I bet money he’s going to aim to be just like you when he grows up.”

“…I suppose so.” Mitrofan looked at his son. “…Don’t worry, Stiliyan. I’ll get over these growing pains, and give you a guildmaster to look up to!”

Stiliyan made a coo of happiness. He was still very young, incapable of speech. However, his joy was enough to make his father smile.

“…We created one cute kid, didn’t we?” Rufina remarked. “…I’d be up for having more if they’re as charming as him. And hey…good thing the way to make kids is one of the best pastimes in the whole world,” she added with a smirk.

“…You sure crave your lovemaking,” remarked Mitrofan, knowledgeable of their affairs under the sheets. That being said…there was one thing he had observed in the months since Rufina had Stiliyan. “Your appetite is insatiable sometimes.”

“I know.” The dragon seemed proud to admit that. “And as long as you’re still in my life, I’ll always want more. That’s the best part of being married; we can do it whenever we want, and it’s all for free. And to prove that…I want to go again tonight,” she uttered sultrily.

“Do you now?” Mitrofan retorted with an eye roll. “Why am I not surprised? At this rate, we’ll have a second child by this time next year.”

“Go on, admit it. You love the nights we have together,” Rufina replied, walking over to him with Stiliyan in her arms. “I can’t believe some people call that sin lust, as if it’s something to be ashamed of. Piss off! If that’s sin, then sign me up if it means I can enjoy all the pleasure here on Ardalion with you!”

“…Those are daring words.” Her husband leaned in to kiss her on the neck. “I hope you don’t regret them if lust does earn you a one-way ticket to hell.”

“Oh, shut up. That abstinence to save your soul talk’s a bunch of crap. I’d bet money that archbishop fellow who preaches it – what’s his face? Don’t know, don’t care – has a mistress or two that satisfy him while he preaches abstinence to all of us. I’ve heard those rumours that have been going around …Tch. Hypocrites like him make me sick. People like him deserve the worst judgement Arceus has got.”

“Quite a claim to think Archbishop Innokent has mistresses. …Still, I never was a churchgoer. Could be possible.”

“Hmm…you know, you never answered my question,” Rufina reminded.

“What question?”

“Do you enjoy the nights of passion we have?”

“…Well…the fact that I eagerly partake says it all, doesn’t it?” Mitrofan kissed his wife again.

“Good point. That was a stupid question.” Rufina returned the kiss, only more passionately than her husband’s efforts. “Mmm…I love you so much.”

“And I you.” Mitrofan returned a more passionate kiss. “…Let our love last until the end of time.”

“…You said it, Mitt. I’ll never stop loving you, no matter what happens.”

 

 

---

 

 

“…I don’t blame you for wanting to reclaim the happiness of the past, Master Mitrofan,” Nikita condoled. “I can’t say I knew how much you loved Rufina, nor can I even comprehend the emotions of romance. But…they can compel people in life-changing ways. …And, in your case, country-changing ways.”

“…That is what has happened, yes,” murmured the Aggron. He curled his fist. “If only she were here by my side…then I would have some much-needed guidance. …Then again…” He looked wistfully out at the city. “Her disappearance is the whole reason I’m in this mess in the first place.”

“…Indeed,” Nikita murmured.

“…Grrrahhh!” he growled in annoyance, slamming his fist down on the stone of the balcony’s edge. Cracks formed in it. “Damn it all! The worst part of it all is that I’ve gotten my revenge already on that vile man! And yet…I’m still no closer to finding where my family is! Five years we’ve searched for them…and all results have turned up fruitless.”

“…We have combed Selenia thoroughly for them, Master,” the Marowak reasoned. “…We can only apologise that we have not found them yet. I know that Spiridon kicks himself over it too.”

“…I can’t say I blame you,” Mitrofan replied, his tone bitter. “Selenia is a vast country. Searching every nook and cranny for them would prove tedious. …Contentious even, if we have to search the cellars of noble houses where they might be. That might upset the delicate balance we have with nobles who may decide to turn against us.”

“…Perhaps they lay beyond Selenia?” Nikita suggested. “Spiridon proposed this once.”

“…Perhaps they do. But then we involve ourselves with other countries…and that has the potential to go awry. …Especially if she’s being held in the East. I expelled their diplomats from here so that they couldn’t try to control me. They won’t puppeteer me as they did with Kliment.”

“…We’ll keep such operations covert,” assured the Marowak. “That is, should you order us to carry out such searches.”

“…I may well do,” the Aggron murmured.

He didn’t speak for another while, staring out at the city blanketed by the night. Nikita said nothing, instead remaining on standby. It wasn’t just to make sure a potential attacker that could strike would be cut down quickly by him, but…it was also for another reason.

I don’t want him to be alone.

“…Part of me truly considered telling Dalibor the truth about Rufina.” Mitrofan spoke once again.

“Did you?”

“…Yes. I only retracted on the basis that it would mean dredging up painful memories of what exactly happened five years ago. …If we were alone where no one could hear us, and I could divulge my feelings fully without the fear of him leaping to conclusions, then I’d definitely tell him. But…I don’t want a repeat of what happened with Team Marshwood and a good chunk of the Guild.”

“Ah. You mean…the ‘jumping to conclusions’ part?”

“Yes. You were lucky, Nikita. You and Spiridon. You saw me that day five years ago. You understood what was happening. You heard the info we got out of those shady people. …An outsider would have a tough time believing it. …Even good friends would have trouble believing that story.” He gripped the balcony wall tighter. “…I wanted them to come with me. But they refused. And so…a gulf appeared, and it gets wider day by day. To the point where when my good friend Kallias is missing, I can’t even offer a shred of sympathy. …It would be for the better if he didn’t resurface. All that charisma, and he’d use it against me rather than in the name of the common good.”

“…I agree, Master Mitrofan,” Nikita replied. “…Often, the past is better left buried in the ground, and we only cause ourselves pain in trying to dig it back up again. The nobles cause themselves pain by trying to believe that Prince Leonid is still alive. Melchior no doubt pains himself over Kallias’ disappearance and the hope that he’s out there somewhere. My past before you is nothing but misery and woe. And if it is my place to say this, Master Mitrofan…even you are guilty of this through your remembrance of Rufina. It’s not my intention to be cruel, and I’m not suggesting for one minute you move on or forget her. I just…hate seeing you like this.”

“I’m not invincible, Nikita. You know that better than anyone,” Mitrofan returned. “Even I must bear my emotions sometimes. …At least I can do so around you. You would never judge me in the way that others would.”

“That’s not my duty, Master Mitrofan,” the Marowak replied. “My only purpose at this point is to be by your side. I’ll gladly listen to your woes if that is your wish.”

“…Thank you, Nikita.” The Aggron turned to Nikita, a small, sad smile crossing his face. “I’m glad you were here to listen.”

“Anytime, Master Mitrofan.”

The ruler of Selenia headed back into the room, closing the balcony doors behind him and getting into the bed.

“I’ll try and sleep. I doubt I’ll get any, but…I might as well try.”

“…Very well. Good night, Master Mitrofan.” Nikita opened the door to head out into the hallway. He looked back to see the Aggron getting under the blankets. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Those were his last words before he shut the door.