Chapter 25 – Over the Sands

Arian wasn’t sure what hour it was when he opened his eyes. He would’ve thought it was a dark night at moonhigh, or the before-dawn darkness that he had awoken in the day before.

But strangely…he found himself somewhere else. One that seemed to be bound in endless fog, where Arian could barely see two feet in front of him. It wasn’t Chief Féilim’s residence, that was for sure.

Where am I? the Riolu thought. He was on solid ground, on some kind of stone that felt cold to the touch.

“Hello?” he called out. It seemed to echo through the foggy surroundings. Was something in that endless mist?

“…dy…”

Hm? Is that a voice? Arian’s ears pricked, trying to find where it was coming from, and what that voice was saying.

“…Wh…r…ou…n…dy?”

What are they saying? It seemed to be getting clearer, if only slightly. But Arian still couldn’t make anything out.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

As he said this, he saw something come forward. A distant silhouette. Its shape wasn’t distinctive, but the figure looked to be small, around his size.

They seemed to come closer, becoming slightly more distinctive. A few details were slightly more visible. Bipedal, and almost canine-like, with—

“Arian?”

Another voice; this one sounded familiar. Arian turned away from the figure.

“Arian, wake up.”

No, I need to find out who this is. I need to—

“Arian!”

---

“Ah!”

Arian’s eyes opened. He found he was no longer in that shrouded realm, but back in Féilim’s residence where he had gone to bed the night before.

“Oh, thank goodness. I was scared you wouldn’t wake up.”

Looking over him was his partner, and he realised, the one who’d pulled him out of that dream. He wanted to be angry, but couldn’t when he saw the concerned look on Elvira’s face.

“Elvira? Something wrong?”

“You sounded like you were talking in your sleep,” she said.

“Was I? Damn.” The Riolu suddenly felt embarrassed.

“It’s not about that. Yuliya came by just now to tell us that Team Scalebreaker were getting to leave,” Elvira informed. “We need to get moving if we don’t want to be left behind.”

“Urgh…” Arian wiped sleep from his eyes as he threw the blanket off him and tiredly rose from his bed. He blinked as he looked out the window and saw that just like the previous morning, it was still dark.

We’re doing this again, huh? Arian thought, as he flattened his bedhead and did a few stretches while he waited for Elvira to finish her checks.

“…Alright, I think we have everything,” the Treecko eventually said. “Let’s go. They’re waiting at the front entrance.”

The halls of the residence were quiet as Team Elpis made their way through the house. One thing they immediately noticed was that the freezing temperatures that accompanied them to sleep lingered when they woke. Diametric opposites of temperature held Alba in their grasp – freezing cold at night and blazing hot during the day. For the pair, unused to such climatic whiplash, it wasn’t comfortable for them at all.

During the walk through the quiet house, Arian’s mind drifted to the strange dream he’d had before he woke up. An endless fog, along with a mysterious figure in the distance. What does it mean? he pondered. And just who was that? If only I’d stayed longer! I might’ve been able to figure it out if I did…

The Riolu’s mind continued to wander as they travelled to the front entrance of the Chief’s residence. Team Scalebreaker and Yuliya were waiting there, ready to start the day’s journey.

“Urgh…” Elvira wiped sleep from her eye, and shivered. “It’s so cold.”

“Better get used to it,” Enfys said. “It’s unfortunate, but Alba’s climate doesn’t move for anyone. Not even the strongest of warriors.”

“If only it did.” A depressed look came into Yannick’s eye, but he shook it off quickly. “How did we all sleep?”

“Better than last night, at least,” Elvira said. “The bed was quite comfy.”

“That it was,” Yuliya agreed. “I left a letter of thanks for Chief Mac Mánais to pick up later.”

“Good.” Yannick’s gaze drifted to Arian. “How about you, Arian?”

“…Hm?” The human was taken out of his thoughts. “Wh-What?”

“I said, ‘How did you sleep?'”

“…Good, I guess,” Arian murmured.

And that was all he said. The group of four expected a bit more from him, and were surprised when he didn’t deliver.

Elvira shot him a look of concern. Even after the victory last night, her partner didn’t look any happier. What was more, something about him seemed…off. For whatever reason, he didn’t look to be paying attention.

She was tempted to ask, but Enfys interrupted her.

“Come on, you lot. Our taxi’s not gonna come to us. We gotta meet ’em at the dock at the north end of town.” The Gabite, not intent on wasting time, started down the path.

“Well, nothing to do but follow.” Yannick followed suit, and the Selenians took after him.

Arian’s mind drifted away from the dream and more towards that day’s mission. But as the group passed over the dried-up Istwyth, he suddenly became aware of something else.

A strange presence in the air, one he couldn’t quite place. It was familiar to him, however. He’d felt this same presence before, very recently.

“Arian? Is something the matter?”

“Ah!” The Riolu, startled, turned to meet her gaze. “Oh, Elvira. S-Sorry. Got distracted, that’s all.”

“…You’re acting strange this morning,” noted the Treecko. “It’s not like you to be this jumpy, Arian. What’s up? You can tell me.”

Arian didn’t reply immediately. He looked around him, as if he was looking out for someone, before looking back at Elvira.

“…You know yesterday morning, when it felt like there was someone watching us?” he said, with a hint of discomfort. “I feel it again this morning.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I felt it last night too, when I was fighting Sorcha.” That, he was only realising now, although it was only in the heat of the duel that he had felt it. “That presence was there, among the spectators. They might’ve even spoken to me, through telepathy.”

“Wh-What?” Elvira wasn’t expecting to hear that. “But who are they?”

“I don’t know. But if I can feel them again…then they’re nearby.” Arian looked around at the alleys they passed, peering down them to see if there were anyone suspicious watching him.

Alas, through town, they spotted nothing out of the ordinary. Some townsfolk were up and about, merchants were setting up their stalls for the day and there was even some early morning chatter from residents who’d had the same idea of getting up before the day’s blistering heat came along.

Before long, they were at the town’s northern exit, beside which a taxi dock lay. It was mostly empty, apart from a lone carriage on which two Aerodactyl duo rested before their next flight out.

Beside them stood a familiar face.

“Ah, there ye are!” Féilim called. “As promised, here’s your taxi, free of charge!”

“Damn straight. Good thing you live up to your promises,” Enfys said. “We’ve been stiffed before.”

“‘Mon of my word. Now I won’t be keeping ye. Ye Selenian bunch have some important business, eh?” Féilim cast his eye to them. “The sooner ye get to Breffy, the better.”

“Yes. That’s correct, Chief,” Yuliya replied respectfully.

“Best get on it, then. It’ll mean less time in the roastin’ sun and all that.” The Chief stepped to the side, opening the door for them.

There was enough room in the taxi for six; more than enough for the group. The Selenians and Albans sat on either side of each other.

“Oh! Before ye go.” Féilim remembered something. He dug into his pantskin and got out some coins, before handing them to Elvira. “A wee something for ye.”

“P-Please, Chief Mac Mánais, it’s alright,” Elvira urged. “We don’t need—”

“Ah, will ye whisht! Ye put some smacht on Sorcha, and that’s plenty of thanks from me and the hubby,” Féilim said. “She’s still a bit sore from last night, but she’ll come around. A hard loss often does that to folks.”

“Does it…?” Arian mumbled. As he spoke, Elvira filed away the money.

“Don’t ye worry. When you fight her next, Arian, she’ll be more mature. No childish remarks or kickin’ you when you’re down.”

“I hope so.”

“Well, that’s all from me,” Féilim said. “Safe travels! Slán libh!” With that, he shut the door of the carriage. Once he was back far enough, the five could feel the carriage begin to lift off the ground.

Arian peered out the window, and saw the Scrafty, waving goodbye cheerily. The sight of the town in the dark morning, with the first glimmers of dawn, was quite a sight. It would probably look even nicer when they took off into the sky and see the dawn shining on the land below.

Then Arian’s gaze then fell to the dock’s gate, and he stiffened.

There was someone, or something there. He couldn’t see them, for they were obscured behind a veil. The darkness of the morning, too, made it hard to determine who or what they are. At first glance…he swore it was some kind of quadrupedal.

Am I seeing things? He blinked, to make sure. But that was a mistake. Once he peered again, he saw that the cloaked figure had disappeared.

What was that? That thought weighed on Arian’s mind as the taxi ascended higher into the sky.

---

Some time later, the sun rose, bringing with it the blistering heat that came with the Alban day. Team Elpis were looking no less forward to dealing with it today, but they had little choice in the matter. At least the rawst scarves provided relief from the heat.

“Can’t we open a window or something?” Arian complained, after about half an hour after sunrise. “I swear I’m gonna faint if it gets any stuffier in here.”

“What, and bring in the sand from desert winds?” Enfys said. “Much as I like the stuff, you lot would hate it. For your sake, don’t open that window.”

“Mm.” Yannick nodded in agreement. “Alban sandstorms can be pretty awful at the best of times.”

“But there’s no sandstorms right now,” Elvira pointed out.

“No duh,” Enfys mocked. “If there were sandstorms, there’d be no flight today.”

“…They’ve been happening a lot more lately,” Yannick brought up. “Sandstorms.”

“Have they?” Arian wondered.

“It’s because of the rise in extreme weather events that have been happening,” Elvira said. “Isn’t it?”

“Yes. And it’s been particularly bad in the outback parts of Alba, like Annwyn and Dálriada. What precious little soil they have has been eroded away by the ferocity of the sandstorms, and now even the hardiest of berries are struggling to grow there.” The Hakamo-o wistfully cast his eyes out the window. “Our Chief’s had to divert food from other places to feed them, and that’s agitated a number of chieftains, to the point where they’ve raided neighbouring tíortha and stolen food from them.”

“Damn, really?” Arian could feel Yannick’s glumness, and the idea made him gloomy, too.

“Yep. It’s been a right headache for our Chief,” Enfys said. “A fair amount of missions in the last while from him have been to settle quarrels between chieftains and their tíortha. Lemme tell you this: if you want a quick way to fill up your ‘most-hated people in the world’ list, just do those missions. You’ll run out of parchment before you’re halfway done with them all.”

“Can’t argue with you there, En, as much as I hate to admit it,” Yannick said. “The chiefs of Dálriada and Annwyn have been pieces of work to deal with. They’re at each other’s throats constantly. Honestly.” His tone turned cynical. “Whatever happened to ‘No strength without unity’? It’s a time of crisis; we need to be unified! But no, they’ll just keep blaming our Chief and saying, ‘I’ll kick your ass when the next Tournament happens!’ People are suffering, and all they care about is fighting to become rí! Urgh! I hate it!”

The last part came out as a shout, enough to surprise the three Selenians. Yannick met their gazes, and an apologetic look immediately crossed his face.

“S-Sorry,” he apologised. “I didn’t mean to get worked up like that. It’s just…there are times where the whole ‘strength is everything’ message gets to me. Like it’s the only thing that matters in the world.”

Arian and Elvira both blinked. They hadn’t been expecting this speech from the Hakamo-o.

“Strength is still the best way to measure our leaders,” Enfys said. “But some pricks who win their tournaments wave that entitlement around in everyone’s faces, like they were destined to win it. What I wouldn’t give to wipe the smug smirks off their faces.”

“Well, y’know…the next Tournament’s only two years away,” Yannick mentioned. “We might be able to knock them out of their chief’s chairs.”

“Hell yeah.” The Gabite flashed a toothy grin. “Then we’ll sort this damn country out.”

“You said it.” Yannick curled his hand into a fist, and Enfys bumped it with her claw.

“The Tournament?” That interested Arian. He’d heard it in passing before, but now that he was in Alba, he could hear the info from the Mudsdale’s mouth. “What’s that all about?”

“You wanna know about the Tournament?” Enfys said, as an excited look came into both dragons’ eyes. “It’s the greatest show Alba has to offer, that’s what!”

“The Tournament,” Yannick began. “Is a great event that happens every twenty years in Alba. When this happens, there’s a complete shake-up of the order of Alba, as every position in the country comes up for grabs. Within each of our tíortha, there’s a competition to become the next chieftain. Those are decided in their own brackets, and the winners of that then go on to compete against each other. All of them strive for the ultimate prize, and that—” He paused for emphasis, “—is the position of rí itself.”

“Rí? What, you mean…the actual leader of Alba?” Arian had heard snippets of this in passing, but to hear it from the mouth of Albans themselves was something else. “You compete for that?”

“Yep! After all, any rí’s gotta be as tough as nails,” Enfys reasoned. “Can’t exactly have a rí that’s pampered to death. Why would we respect someone who’s weak? If they’ve proven themselves through fighting in the Tournament, at least we have a reason already to respect ’em.”

“And even if they don’t win the tournament outright, their strength is still recognised,” Yannick went on. “The runner-up becomes tánaiste, and competitors become Chief in each of their tíortha. So we don’t always look out for number one; we look out for the rest, too.”

“But strength alone is not enough to rule,” Yuliya pointed out. “One could be strong, but they may not be adept at strategy, economics or any of the political thought required to rule a nation.”

“We know. That’s why there’s rigorous exams to boot,” Yannick said. “It’s not like we’re offering it up to just anyone. You have to have grit if you wanna gun for the top—both physically and mentally.”

“That’s…daunting to think about,” Elvira murmured. “I don’t know if I could deal with that kind of societal pressure if it was all about getting strong.”

Arian, hearing that familiar tone in his partner, put his paw in hers as a comforting gesture.

“What about the lesser people in society? Those who aren’t fighters?” the Treecko continued. “Don’t they have a place in Alba?”

“…W-Well, of course they do.” Yannick’s stutter didn’t go unnoticed. “Not everyone’s gonna be good at fighting. The Tournament’s a way to find who’ll lead them. Every nation needs a leader. Isn’t that why you’re all in Alba in the first place?”

“Even so…” Yuliya said. “Offering up the leadership of the country like a prize to compete for is a concept utterly alien to me.”

“Understandable. It’s not exactly something we share with you or the East,” Yannick said. “But it’s the way we’ve lived since our founding by the hero Riagán.”

“Yeah. Tradition, and all that. Not exactly something you can change,” Enfys added. “Just don’t be like the East and call us savages for it. Fuckers,” she spat angrily. “Who are they to call us that?”

“Let it go, En.” The Hakamo-o’s gaze hardened at the mention of the East. “I hate them too, but getting mad about them won’t do us any good right now.” The Gabite huffed at her partner’s words, and looked out the window.

That terse exchange had been witnessed by the three Selenians, who looked at each other in wonder. Team Elpis had heard of the hatred Albans held for the Eastern countries, but now they were seeing it in action.

In Arian’s mind, particularly, the gears were grinding.

Just what could this be about? Somehow I get the sense this runs deep…

---

“Wake up, sleepyhead! We’re nearly there!”

“Mmm…Wuh?” Arian’s ears flicked as he blearily opened his eyes.

The heat of the day had made the Riolu fall asleep in the carriage. But he woke suddenly upon hearing Enfys’ harsh words. Here’s hoping that doesn’t become a trend, he thought.

“We’re nearly there,” Elvira told him. “Look.” She pointed out the window, and Arian looked out…

…And found himself mesmerised at the sight.

Below him, the Istwyth meandered in its chase for the ocean. Its sprawling nature, though, was a far cry from the mere trickle that they saw of it back in Teamhair. This was more like the mighty river that the tales spoke of; one that was undaunted by the heat of the desert sun, and provided nourishing water to thousands of lives within Alba. The land was also cast in evening light, with the sun glittering upon the river’s waters.

On either side of the river, there was agricultural land being tilled by farmers. The land looked quite dry, though, as though rain hadn’t fallen in months. Regardless, farming was still taking place, with beds of berries planted and awnings of shade placed over them to protect them from the harsh sun. They would have to be protected – exposure to a sun like Alba’s would be a quick avenue to Yveltal’s embrace.

“I’m amazed food is still growing, given this heat,” Yuliya commented. “I knew berries were hardy things, but this is something else. Being able to withstand heat like this is admirable.”

“Eh.” Enfys shrugged. “Dunno about that. The heat’s been leading to some misshaping of berries beyond what they normally look like.”

“Misshaping?” Elvira noted.

“Yes. We have some berries like that in here.” Yannick dug through his and Enfys’s bag, before digging out three berries; two pechas and an oran. Or…what should’ve been berries. But it was as Enfys had said; they were malformed, twisted into strange shapes. Even Arian, who was still unused to the unusual fruits of this world, knew how odd that seemed.

“Goodness.” Yuliya was stunned. “We had some heat in Selenia ourselves earlier this summer, but I don’t recall anything like this happening to our berries. If there was, I never heard of it. Then again, when that heatwave arrived, I was away from the farm.”

“Farm?” Arian wondered.

“Oh yes, did I not mention that? I worked on a farm while on the run from Mitrofan. Though I got to know the variety of berries that made up our nation’s diet, none were misshapen like these.”

“Well, misshapen or not, food’s food,” Yannick said. And before anyone could stop him, he gobbled them up. “Mmm…doeshn’t tashte different from usual.” He gulped them down after a few bites.

“I swear, Yann, your gluttony’s gonna get the better of you one day,” Enfys murmured crossly. “Someone’s gonna take advantage of it.”

“En, not this again,” the Hakamo-o groaned. “You know I only raid the pantries of the chiefs that wrong us.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Arian interrupted. “You what?”

“You heard him. He raids pantries, the greedy fuck,” Enfys jabbed.

“H-Hey! Only those that deserve it!” Yannick protested.

“So Cairbre deserves to have his pantry raided most nights, does he?”

“Yes! He never gives me enough! I swear, that Rhyperior has it out for me!”

“I’m only surprised our Chief hasn’t done anything about it. You’d think he’d give us a stern lecture or something. Especially given the kind of ‘mon he is…”

“Your Chief?” Yuliya tilted her head. “I’ve heard you mention them a few times now.”

“Ah yes, our Chief,” Yannick acknowledged. “You’ll meet him when we get to the Guild in Breifne. He’s a stern leader sort of chief, but he understands what’s what. He’ll be able to sort things out with you. Maybe even find that prince of yours.”

“I do wonder where he is…” The Furret looked out the window wistfully. “I only hope His Highness hasn’t had to endure too much in his time here.”

“Guess you’ll figure that out when you meet with him. He has to be somewhere. We might even help you look for him,” Yannick suggested. “Like I said back in Mumhain, we’ll support you guys against Mitrofan, in the name of mercs and their freedom.”

“We are thankful for your assistance, Team Scalebreaker,” Yuliya professed.

“Eh. Don’t count on help right away,” Enfys said. “We’re busy folks, Yann and I. The Chief’ll probably have a mission for us when we get back to the Guild. Always feels like that these days…”

“It certainly does.” Yannick looked set to elaborate further, but broke off as his gaze fell to the outside window, and the sight that lay in view. “And there we are. That’s our home.”

Arian and Elvira stared out with him, and could see the sight of a sprawling stonewalled city ahead of them. The Istwyth cut through the middle of it, and bridges across the river could be seen. Along with that, a sturdy wall of sandstone surrounded the city, as a prime defensive structure against attackers.

“Is that Breifne?” Arian said.

“No, it’s a tiny hamlet with no name,” Enfys snarked. “Of course it’s Breifne.”

“Breifne…the administrative centre of Tír an Rí, and the capital city of Alba. It’s also the home of many, Enfys and myself included.” Yannick spoke these words with pride. “It always feels great to come home like this.”

“…Hmph.” In contrast to her partner’s enthusiasm, Enfys didn’t seem as pleased. Though she didn’t say anything, Arian could sense mixed feelings from her. There’s a story behind this, the Riolu mentally noted.

The taxi approached Breifne, and the five were greeted with an overhead view of the Alban capital. It was comparable to Iria in size, and while the Selenian capital may have slightly edged it in size, it wasn’t that which amazed Arian and Elvira. It was the overhead view of the city, the view of the plethora of people milling around on the city’s streets below, and the impressive architecture on display. In the sea of buildings, Team Elpis and Yuliya spotted a tall spire with a clock face and stained glass windows; Breifne’s cathedral, no doubt.

That wasn’t the only awe-inspiring sight, though. The flow of the Istwyth through Breifne, splicing the city in two and a prominent stone bridge across the river was quite the defining feature of Alba’s capital. But beyond that, where the Istwyth flowed to next, Arian and Elvira could spot a vast delta, with many islands. And beyond that…the vaguest glimpse of the sparkling ocean off Ardalion’s north coast. The view of all of this was enhanced by the evening sunlight, casting the dry land in an orange glow.

“Wow…” Arian was in awe.

“You’re that impressed, huh?” Enfys sniffed.

“Let them be amazed, En,” Yannick said. “It is their first time here.”

“Mine too,” Yuliya brought up. “I’ve never been this deep into Alba. I’ve only ever been to the southern regions.”

“There’s a first time for everything, I guess. Not many Selenians get up this far. Glad to see you’ve all made it.” Yannick outstretched his hand, and shook with each Selenian. “Now then. Do you see that building there?” He pointed down to a large fort that stood on an island in the middle of the river, connected to either side of the city by two stone bridges. “That’s the Rí’s Guild, right there.”

“And it’s where we’re headed,” Enfys said. “That’s where our Chief lives. He’ll talk to you about what you’re looking for.”

“I wonder what he’s like,” Arian wondered. “Does he have links to the rí? Will we be able to see him? What was his name…?” He racked his brains, trying to remember it.

“Oh, don’t worry. You’ll see our rí too,” the Gabite said. Strangely, though, she looked like she was trying to withhold laughter. Arian frowned at her, trying to discern the meaning behind this.

He was about to ask further questions, but he saw the taxi begin to descend towards the ground. He, Elvira and Yuliya got ready for landing, holding onto their seats as their carriage descended upon a larger than usual taxi rank – one that dwarfed the one in Teamhair. It was located on the Istwyth’s eastern bank, next to the stone bridge that led to the Guild’s island.

Two minutes later, the taxi landed, the two Aerodactyl placing the carriage gently on the ground with precision – something they’d had experience with, no doubt. Arian stretched as he got up – plainly, he’d been in that position for a while.

The door of the carriage opened, and one of the Aerodactyl held it open as the five exited the enclosed space. They breathed in the sweet fresh air – a slightly salty scent, given their close proximity to the ocean.

“Out that way and to the left,” Enfys directed with her claw. “The Guild’s located on Oileán Uí Riagáin, across that bridge you saw from the air.”

“Right, okay,” Arian said, as he and his allies followed Team Scalebreaker’s lead.

As they walked, something occurred to him. “How long was I out for?” he asked.

“Quite a while,” Elvira told him. “You even slept through the changeover in drivers we had when we landed at Gleann Órga a few hours ago.”

“Wait, what the heck?” Arian blinked. It couldn’t have been that long, could it?

“Knew it,” Enfys said to Yannick. “He was lying through his teeth back in Teamhair. Staying up all night reading books, probably.”

“I-I was not!” the Riolu protested. “I got plenty of sleep!”

“Sure you did. You were yawning enough to make a Komala blush.”

“That’s because…!” Arian was about to retort, but then he realised that it would require explaining that odd dream he’d had, and even he wasn’t sure what that was about. And if I don’t know what it’s about, what hope would I have of explaining it to everyone else? he thought.

“Well, whatever,” Enfys said dismissively. “Your lack of sleep, your problem. Don’t drag us down while you’re at it.” She marched onwards, and Yannick followed after her. Realising they were being left behind, the Selenians fought to close the gap.

As they walked to the Guild, Arian’s mind lingered on that dream. Then, it went back to that mysterious figure. I’m not imagining it, he thought. I did feel a presence this morning. He thought back to before dawn, when they were strolling through the dark streets of Teamhair. Whoever they were, they were there this morning.

I wonder…His mind drifted through the odd sight he saw as they left Teamhair, of the cloaked figure behind Féilim. Just who was that? Why were they watching me?

His mind was full of questions, but alas, answers were in short supply. It wasn’t like he could ask the people of Teamhair, given he was at the opposite end of the country by now. Sighing at that unsolved mystery, Arian focused back to the present.

They were crossing a sandstone bridge over the flowing Istwyth; thankfully, not a dried-up trickle of a stream but rather a majestic flowing river, splitting up as it weaved either side of the island the Guild was on. That building, a prominent fortification on the island, was the biggest building around, rivalled only by the cathedral on the eastern bank.

They crossed the bridge and stepped onto the river island. To their right, the fort’s entrance stood, marked by a portcullis and guarded by two guards, a Bastiodon and a Naclstack. They became alert as they saw the five approaching.

“Team Scalebreaker,” greeted the Bastiodon. “You’ve returned.”

“But who are they?” The Naclstack pointed to the three. “They don’t look like anyone I’ve ever seen. Clients?”

“You could say that,” Yannick replied. “They’re looking for help. But not just any help; the help of the Chief.”

“The Chief?” The Naclstack was unable to suppress a laugh. “That’s quite the ask. You do know our Chief doesn’t just speak to anyone, do you?”

“Quite right,” the Bastiodon, one with a gravelly tone, replied. “Explain yourself, young’uns.”

“It’s an emergency!” Arian could feel himself getting worked up, in no mood to deal with this kind of attitude. “We’re here because a country’s life hangs in the balance! And we need big-time help!”

“Hah! Did you not hear me? The Chief won’t listen to just anyone, mutt,” mocked the Naclstack. “Unless you think you’ve got what it takes?”

“What are you—” Then it hit Arian. Oh, for the love of… “You want a fight, do you?”

“Well, since you’re offering, yes!” A thrilled look came into their eyes. “Guard work’s boring as shit. Since you’re talking big, can you put your fists where your mouth is?”

“Fine! If that’s what you Albans are all about, then let’s go!”

“Oh, you’re on!” The Naclstack got into a battle stance. “Come on, Alasdair! Let’s kick this runt’s ass!”

“You do it, Salann.” The Bastiodon sounded almost fed up. “I’m not moving from this post. I won’t fly in the face of the duties our Chief entrusted us.”

“Yeah, whatever, Gramps,” Salann retorted. He stepped out from his post, and got into a battle stance against Arian. Behind them, Team Scalebreaker directed Elvira and Yuliya to stand to the side, in understanding that a fight was about to ensue. The Selenians saw their point and obeyed.

“Right, then.” Salann looked into his opponent’s eyes. “Your name, Riolu.”

“Arian,” came the reply.

“Arian, huh? What clan are you from?”

“Clan?” The Riolu tilted his head in puzzlement. Clans? That’s a new one. “What do you mean?”

“…What?” All eyes were on Arian now, Salann’s more than anyone. “What clan are you from? What Alban can’t answer that question? Unless you’re an outlaw?”

“I am not an outlaw!” Arian protested. “I’m Selenian!” That declaration drew a fair few whispers from passersby that noticed the duel that was about to go down.

“A Sel?” Salann was incredulous. “No way in hell, you fucking liar! No Sel has the guts to come this far up north! You’re an outlaw, I’m damn sure of it!”

“Grrr!” Arian bared his teeth. Between the heat of the day and his opponent’s accusations, he was becoming increasingly ticked off. “Why not say that to my face, you block of salt?!”

“Oh, you’re on!” Salann began charging towards Arian, and the Riolu did the same, a Force Palm at the ready. He struck as the Naclstack lunged, hitting the rocky quadruped’s head, and forcing him backwards.

But rock shards fell at Arian’s feet, displaced from the blow he dealt his opponent.

“Yeowch!” he cried, feeling the Stealth Rock pierce his pawpads.

“Ha! Get fucked!” taunted Salann, before shooting mud at Arian. The Riolu dodged out of the way in time, the softer stone a contrast to the sharp shards of Salann’s Stealth Rock. The guard didn’t let up, though, shooting more mud at Arian until it hit. The Riolu hissed as he felt the mud pelt him.

He didn’t let that phase him, though, running towards the Naclstack and striking his front, staggering Salann and stopping the mud assault.

“Gh! Annoying mutt! Take this!” Salann headbutted Arian as hard as he could. One of his head’s sharp edges caught the Riolu’s side and elicited a pained cry from him as he was pushed back.

“Ow! Agh! What the hell?” Arian looked at where he’d been struck, and saw it was bleeding. But he saw a white powder around the wound – a similar residue that he was noticing wherever Salann walked.

“How do you like some salt in the wound, outlaw trash?” taunted Salann. “Maybe the Chief’ll see this and promote me! I deserve it!” Behind him, Alasdair uttered a disdained groan.

Arian winced as Salann’s Salt Cure worked its magic. Damn…gotta turn this around. Otherwise, the Guild here’ll never respect me! He breathed in, trying to weather the pain of the salt, and ran towards his opponent.

“Want more, do ya? I’ll give you some more!” Salann rushed in again, expecting another head-on assault from the brash canine that he could easily block.

But to his shock, Arian suddenly dived, and Salann missed his lunging Headbutt. Seconds later, he felt a powerful force strike him in the chest.

“Argh!” he cried, toppling to his side. Arian took that opportunity and slammed another Force Palm into his side. But remembering the duel he’d had with Sorcha the night before, he leapt back, not wanting to be seen to kick a ‘mon while he was down.

“Oh wow!” a voice suddenly called out. “What’s going on here? A duel’s happening!”

Hm? Arian looked looked around him, but the voice didn’t sound like it came from any of the passersby that had taken interest in the duel that was taking place. It’s not around me. So then it must’ve come from…above? He looked up, and was greeted with his answer.

“Buuuut…as cool as this duel is, it’s kinda blocking the way, don’tcha think?” A multi-coloured long necked bird descended from atop the portcullis, landing next to where Arian and Salann were duelling. “Our mercs have to get in and out of the Guild, and blocking the way’s a big no-no!”

The voice sounded chipper, almost childish. It could easily have been a gruff, stern tone shouting those words to them, but the Archeops’ tone was that of light chiding, as opposed to an authoritative telling-off.

“Oh, s-sorry.” Nonetheless, Arian felt guilty. Looking at some of the spectators, some had an impatient look in their eyes. We really must’ve been blocking their way, huh? He looked down, his ears drooping in disappointment.

“Aww, it’s okay,” soothed the Archeops. Arian looked back up at her; she was giving him a pitying look. “You didn’t start it, did you?”

“…No. I didn’t.” That realisation came to him. “It was him!” He pointed to Salann. “He wouldn’t let us through and called me an outlaw!”

“Hey!” Salann yelled back at him. “Show our Tánaiste some respect, outlaw trash!”

Tánaiste?

“Show him some respect, you mean!” the Archeops interrupted. “Be nice to your opponents, Salann! And don’t call him an outlaw! Do you have proof?”

“P-Proof?” Suddenly, the Naclstack’s defiance faded in the face of the Archeops’s outburst. “W-Well, I, uh…H-He’s n-not from a clan, Tánaiste! He said as much! He’s probably a filthy Cered! You know what they’re like!”

“Don’t be mean to them!” the so-called ‘Tánaiste’ said. “How about you go to Trahy and repeat that?”

“T-Tánaiste!” Salann realised his mistake. “I-I didn’t mean to say that. I-I apologise! P-Please, I misspoke!”

“Don’t say sorry to me.” The Archeops looked sternly at the guard. “Say sorry to these people for blocking their way. And say sorry to…” She turned to Arian.

“Arian.” The Riolu gave his name.

“Say sorry to Arian, and everyone else. Will you, please?”

“Urgh…I’m sorry, Arian.” Salann looked humiliated. “And I’m sorry, everyone, for blocking your way.”

“There we go!” Suddenly, the Archeops was chipper again. “Now, just get back to your post, and everything will be alright!”

Wordlessly, the Naclstack got back to his post.

“Yay! Okay, everyone, you can go on through!” the Archeops called to the spectators, as she flapped and perched herself on a nearby wall. With the obstruction cleared, the traffic through the Guild entrance began to flow again.

One thing Arian noticed, though, was the respect everyone gave the Archeops as they passed her by. He’d heard what Salann had called her – ‘Tánaiste’. What did that word mean again? It was something important…

“Oh! Team Scalebreaker!” The Archeops’ eyes lit up at the sight of the dragon duo. “You’re back!”

“It’s good to see you, Tánaiste,” Yannick said. Arian noticed that he had that same respectful, almost reverential look in his eye. His emotions exuded that same thing; this lady, whoever she was, was held in high esteem by him.

“Heya, Yannick! And you too, Enfys!” she greeted. “How did the mission in Mumhain go?

“It went okay.” To Arian’s shock, Enfys held similar feelings for the Archeops. But Enfys hasn’t shown anyone respect, has she? Not even Chief Mac Mánais… “We do have a bit of news for you, though, Tánaiste, and it involves this lot.” She gestured to the three Selenians.

“Ooooh, really?” The Archeops looked down at Team Elpis and Yuliya. “I’ve never seen your faces before! Who are you all?”

“I am Yuliya Gerasimovna Lysagora,” the Furret introduced. “And these two are Elvira and Arian.” She gestured to Team Elpis. “We are from Selenia, and have travelled to Breifne to seek help.”

“Selenia? Oh wow! It’s been a while since we’ve had anyone visit from there!” The Archeops was elated, but then suddenly froze, remembering something else. “Wait a minute…Are you—”

“We’re not with Mitrofan,” Elvira immediately clarified, seeing what the bird was about to ask. “We’re against him.”

“Oh. …Oh really? That’s cool! I’d love to hear more!” the Archeops babbled excitedly. “Oh, but not out here. Maybe inside the Guild?” She gestured a wing inside.

“That would be best, yes,” Yuliya agreed. “We don’t want everyone hearing us, after all.”

“Right, then! These people are coming in!” The Tánaiste looked over at Alasdair and Salann, who stood aside to let the cavalcade through. Arian caught the aura of envy around the Naclstack as they passed him.

Oh well. That’s the way it is in Alba. Strongest always wins, eh? He stared down at his paws. Maybe I’m not as weak as I thought…

As they walked into the Guild, a vast courtyard greeted them. Various Pokémon of all different shapes and sizes milled around the Guild courtyard. Some were looking at noticeboards, deciding which mission to take next. Some were merely chatting about the day’s events, or a recent mission they’d been on.

Amidst the ruckus, Arian heard what sounded like shouting.

“Come on! Backs into it! You’ve still got fifty more to go!”

He looked to his right, and blinked at the sight. A Bouffalant was barking orders at a line of trainees, who were all doing exercises. They were clearly struggling, though; Arian could feel and see the collective strain of them. Some looked like they were ready to faint on the spot.

That’s quite strenuous, isn’t it? Imagine if I had to do that with Galen. He shuddered. Thank God he’s more lenient than that. All about meditation rather than endless exercises.

“It’s almost like a castle grounds,” Elvira observed, looking around her. “Then again, mercenaries are Alba’s equivalent of knights. They don’t have the hybrid system like we do.”

“Huh? Really?” Arian was surprised to hear that. “No knights at all?”

“From what I’ve heard, yes. That’s what the books I’ve read say about it.”

“Your books are wrong,” Enfys, who overheard their conversation, butted in. “We do have knights, actually. Not many, but we have them.”

“They’re for our rí,” Yannick explained. “Though it’s a formality more than anything. To spot an assassination attempt before it happens, or to set things up in advance for him. It’s not like they need to protect him, though.”

“Too right,” Enfys snorted. “He’d wipe the floor with us. And we’re some of the stronger mercs around.”

“Yeah. Our rí’s on another level altogether.” Yannick looked towards the Guild’s main building. “You might meet him, actually. If he hasn’t left to settle a quarrel himself, that is.”

“You will! You will!” The Archeops flapped her wings excitedly. “Rí Trahaern’s in the Guild right now! I’ll ask him to meet you all so you can talk to him about what you wanna talk about!”

“Er, sure.” Arian was a bit puzzled by the girl’s bubbliness. It feels strange. Why do I feel like I’m missing something about her? About…

“Hang on.” He realised something. “We didn’t get your name, er…’taw-nish-ta’?” He pronounced that word the Archeops had been called.

“Oh, of course!” Just before they got to the entrance, the Archeops turned back to the five of them. “You all wanna know my name? Well, Team Scalebreaker knows it already. But for the rest of you…

“I’m Scáthach Ildaithe Ní Riagáin! Tánaiste of Alba, and deputy Guildmaster here at the Rí’s Guild!”

“Oh. Well, nice to meet you, Scáthach.” A small smile crossed Arian’s face, now that he knew the Archeops’ name.

“Arian.” Elvira nudged him. “You do realise who you’re talking to?” Nervousness had crossed her face.

“Huh? D-Do you know her, Elvira?”

“No, but…she’s the Tánaiste of Alba.”

“And?”

“Oh, by the rí’s trunk, you’re slow!” yelled Enfys. “Tánaiste Scáthach’s the deputy leader of Alba, you idiot! Second strongest person in the whole damn country! Have some respect for her!”

“Wait, what?!” Arian was taken aback. I had a feeling she was important! I knew ‘Tánaiste’ meant something! How did I forget that?

“Oh, don’t make a big deal of it, Enfys,” Scáthach downplayed. “Not everyone knows. Some people in Alba don’t even know! I’ve only been Tánaiste for three years.”

“You’re the Tánaiste of Alba, Scáthach?” Yuliya was quite surprised. “At your age?”

“Age doesn’t mean much,” Scáthach refuted. “If you have determination, you can achieve anything, no matter your age! And I was strong enough to rise to this position!” She then looked to the side, slightly abashed. “Even if I wasn’t expecting to do that well…”

“A surprising victory, it was,” Yannick agreed. “But you’re our Tánaiste now. I won’t not respect you.”

“Aye.” Enfys nodded. “The old Tánaiste was an old crock, anyway. Good to have some new blood in the system.”

“Hehe. Thanks, guys,” Scáthach said. “Oh, but let’s not delay the Selenians! We have to get the rí to see them! Let’s go inside, and I’ll make the arrangements!”

With that, they headed inside the Guild. One thing Arian noticed immediately was that it was almost like a castle in which a king would reside. Along with the various mercs, demarcated by their orange scarves, many servants scurried to and fro. Statues and armour plating stood to either side of the main hallway, and and ahead of them, stairs ascended to a dominating-looking room with appropriately large red doors. The throne room, the RIolu presumed.

Except they weren’t headed there immediately. Scáthach led them through one of the hallways on their right. They continued along this path, before the Archeops opened the fourth door on the left.

Inside lay what looked like a canteen. The smell of delicious food cooking permeated the air, enough that it made Arian and Elvira’s stomachs collectively groan. Both realised at that moment they hadn’t eaten in some time.

“Hungry, eh? I am too, actually,” Yannick said.

“Good luck getting food from him,” Enfys snarked.

“Pfft. He won’t say no to our Tánaiste. That’s pretty much sacrilege here.”

“Hey, Cairbre! Tiarnán! Mòrag!” Scáthach called out to the serving counter at the far end. “Could you get food for six, please?”

There was shuffling, and then three figures came from the kitchen in the back to the serving counter: a Rhyperior, a Chimecho and a Polteageist.

“Ah, hello, Tánaiste!” the latter greeted. “Cup of tea?”

“No, thanks, I’m in a rush. But get some food for these people!” Scáthach gestured to the five. “I’ll organise an audience with our rí. In the meantime, get some food in you.”

“Thank you very much, Tánaiste,” Elvira said.

“Anytime. Just sit tight! I’ll have it organised in no time!” With that, Scáthach flew out of the canteen to organise the audience.

The four mercs and one ex-knight found a seat to sit down at. Few others were around; Arian deduced that they were out doing missions, most likely.

“I see we have a couple of new faces.” The Polteageist floated over to them from the serving counter. “We’ll have some food ready for you in a bit. How many? The Tánaiste said six…” She looked confusedly at the group, before her eyes fell on Yannick. “…Ah. Right.” She turned back to the counter. “Food for six, Cairbre!”

“Food for four, you mean! I’m not serving you, you greedy bastard!” The Rhyperior glared at Yannick with eyes of fire. “Do you think I came down the Istwyth in a bubble, you gobshite? You raided the pantry three nights ago! I know it!”

“Don’t disobey the Tánaiste, Cairbre,” Yannick reminded, his lips curling smugly. “She said food for six.”

“…Some day, your gluttony’ll bring you death,” Cairbre grumbled, before turning back to the kitchen. His sous-chef, Tiarnán, followed him.

It wasn’t long before the two chefs brought food before the group of five. Yannick licked his lips as two plates were put before him, and no sooner were they placed in front of him, then he started devouring the food before him.

The meal looked quite appetising – a dish of rice, coupled with a variety of chopped berries, maize and other vegetables. Arian brought the spoon to his lips, and tasted it.

Two thoughts immediately came to him.

Mmm! This is nice!

Followed immediately by—

“Yow! Hot!”

The food was piping hot, but it was also incredibly spicy. Safe to say, that was a recipe for a fireball of a meal. Arian glanced over at his fellow Selenians; their wide-eyed expressions followed by an immediate reach for the nearest drink. He followed suit, and downed some pinap juice, the refreshing beverage cooling his burning throat.

“Goodness,” Yuliya commented. “This is certainly a volcano in a meal. I can taste the tamato berries.”

“Oh, come off it. It’s not that bad,” Enfys sneered, before taking a spoonful and eating it without issue. “Not even that spicy. It could use some more.”

“M-More?!” Arian gulped, looking at the meal. But that’s as spicy as it gets!

“Honestly, be more like him.” The Gabite pointed to Yannick, who was gobbling spoonful after spoonful of the rice. “Loves the stuff. Probably his favourite food. Would you say, Yann?”

“Mm.” The Hakamo-o swallowed a big mouthful before replying. “Yeah. Definitely. I love me some good ol’ stobhach laoich.” He went right back to eating, already nearly finished with his first serving.

“Well, I do like it. It’s just…the spice.” Arian reluctantly picked up the spoon again.

“Eat up or shut up,” Enfys retorted. “Some don’t have the luxury of choice. There’s people in Breifne who’d kill for a plate of this. A lot of people…” She trailed off, turning her attention back to her food. The Riolu, feeling guilty over that comment, returned to his food.

In spite of the meal’s spiciness, he, Elvira and Yuliya got used to it, and before long had gotten through most of the meal (with burning mouths – Team Elpis in particular were resisting the urge to reach for the pinap juice every mouthful they took.)

Just as they finished, the doors of the canteen opened, and Scáthach flew in excitedly.

“Rí Trahaern is ready to see you! Follow me, and I’ll bring you to him!”

“Already? That was quick,” Arian said.

“All the better that it is,” Elvira said. “The sooner we have information about Prince Leonid, the better.”

“Hopefully Svetlana too,” Yuliya added. “My sister…I’ll be with you soon. Just hold on a little longer.” Her paw went to her chest in conviction.

Her determined look steeled Arian and Elvira too, as they walked out of the canteen, down the hall, and to the main path through the Guild. The steps up to the throne room seemed numerous, but Team Elpis walked up that path, ready to see him. The leader that lay beyond those dominating doors.

Guards on either side opened the doors, into a vast throne room. The red carpet continued forth towards the dais, and several guards on either side of the carpet stood to attention as the visitors were received.

At the end of the room, rising from his throne, was an enormous elephantine Pokémon. His hide was dark green with orange markings, and he had tusks on either side of his face, sharp enough that they could run someone through with them. His huge body was square, and along it, he wore special garments bearing a distinctive crest – the same as the one on banners the group had seen thus far in Alba. Atop his head, a golden crown studded with jewels, chief among them an eye-catching red ruby.

His very presence brought the Selenians to attention in awe and fear, as it sunk in for them just who this was.

Scáthach flew over to him, and landed on a perch next to the throne. There, she threw a wing out in a grandiose manner, towards the Copperajah.

“May I introduce to you all to Trahaern Gwyrddach Ó Riagáin! Our Rí, and the strongest Pokémon in Alba!”