Chapter 26 – Ríthe and Resilience

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 he 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 rested 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!”

Enfys and Yannick walked forward, and bowed in respect towards their leader. The Selenians took a moment to follow suit, distracted by the awesome presence of the Copperajah before them.

Trahaern looked down at the Selenians before him.

“…So you wish to see me, ye from Selenia.” The Copperajah’s voice was deep and rough around the edges. He looked to be an old veteran, one who had seen his fair share of combat over his life. That was evidenced by his scarred trunk and body, and the position he held as rí told enough of his fighting prowess.

“Yes, indeed, Rí Trahaern,” Yuliya acknowledged. She stepped forward to speak. “We have come to you for information pertinent to our country’s liberation from the grip of Mitrofan.”

“Silver Armour Mitrofan…” murmured Trahaern. “I have heard tales of his oppression of his people. The border chiefs keep me informed as to the goings on over our southern border. I probably don’t have to guess why you’re here: you want aid from me, don’t you?”

“That is indeed true,” the Furret confirmed. “But more than that, we have come to Alba to find our tsesarevich, Prince Leonid Klimentovich Ruslan. We were informed that he had travelled to Alba after being rebuffed by the leaders of the East and failed to secure aid that would overthrow Mitrofan.”

Yuliya paused to take out the letter that Sansarn had sent to them. “This is a letter from His Holiness Pontifex Sansarn. He claimed His Highness and Lady Svetlana had travelled to Alba in search of aid. More to the point, he claimed this was proof affirmed by Their Grace Archdruid Cathbad, the leading clergymon of Alba. If their claims are true…His Highness should still be here in Alba. Rí Trahaern, is this true? Did His Highness visit you? And if he did, would you happen to know where he is?”

The Furret set forth her terms clearly. She breathed out, trying not to let her nerves get the better of her. Being in the presence of someone as powerful as the rí of Alba wasn’t a task for the faint of heart. The sagely Copperajah exuded a regal presence, one Arian and Elvira felt as well. All of them stood in quiet tension as they waited for an answer from Trahaern.

“…His Holiness is correct. Three years ago, a report came to me that Prince Leonid had come to Breifne, and wished to speak to me. When I met him, he was a sorry sight; his princely cape was in tatters, and rather than the charismatic lionheart a prince should be, he had all the air of a graceless Wimpod.”

“What? H-His Highness was in such a state?” Yuliya murmured, her expression full of worry.

“He requested from me the aid of my mercenaries,” Trahaern continued. “He wanted a strike force to travel with him to Iria and launch an attack upon Silver Armour Mitrofan in the hope of overthrowing him and restoring one of House Ruslan blood to the throne.”

“What did you say to him, Your Majesty?” Elvira asked.

“I sympathised with the plight of the prince. The loss of one’s parents to someone as honoured as Silver Armour Mitrofan, once a shrewd ally of House Ruslan, is a harsh betrayal. And worse still was the denial of aid by the Dresilians and Miletans. To be doubly, no, triply betrayed by those he once considered allies…anyone can sympathise with that. However, one stark problem became apparent to me once we began negotiations.”

“…What would that be, Rí Trahaern?” Yuliya asked, a dark feeling gnawing at her chest.

“To put it simply, I did not believe Prince Leonid was fit to rule over his country. There were many signs of it. The boy was naive about the nuances of negotiating. He would become quickly irritable if I was hesitant to give him in to one of his demands. What was more, he had the gall to claim the brave warriors of Ceredigonia were the ones to kidnap his fiancée, Lady Svetlana.”

“What?!” Yuliya reeled back in shock. “S-Svetlana was kidnapped?!”

“Your prince made that claim. Upheld by the fact that there was no sign of her when he was brought before me. By his accounts, she was with him all throughout his visits to the Eastern nations. And yet in transit here, she appears to have spirited away. Or kidnapped, as the prince insisted.”

“N-No…No!” That revelation was a hammer blow to Yuliya, who tried to fight back tears.

“But he was brazen that I do something about this event out of my hands.” Trahaern, unmoved by the Furret’s emotion, continued. “He truly believed he had the upper hand in negotiations. We in Alba do not abide such insolence, not without the power to back it up. What’s more, a leader requires strength, tact and knowledge to rule, and he had none of those. Thus, we came to an impasse.”

“I guess that explains the three year hold-up,” Arian said.

“I’m not finished.” Trahaern interrupted. “That would’ve been that, but Tánaiste Scáthach was insistent on giving Leonid a chance.” He glanced at the Archeops.

“I did,” Scáthach said. “Prince Leonid might not have had the strength, but anyone can become strong if they put their mind to it! That’s what I think, anyway. We organised for Leonid to be trained by Chief Fachtna, one of our strongest warriors.”

“That would whip his sorry state into shape,” Trahaern said. “If he truly cared for his country, he would endure Fachtna’s training and rise above to become a powerful warrior and worthy heir to Selenia and her people. Unfortunately, in the end, he couldn’t summon the will to follow through, and in his rage, foolishly challenged Fachtna to a duel. “

“He couldn’t have!” Yuliya was in disbelief. “His Highness would never do something like that!”

“But he did,” Trahaern stolidly countered. “…I don’t think I need to tell you the outcome. Safe to say, that duel cost him most of his credibility amongst our allies. I only saw him once after that, and that was to tell me he wanted nothing more to do with me, Scáthach and Fachtna. And so ended our relationship.”

“Wait, really?” Arian was wide-eyed. “That’s it? He just walked out on you?”

“He did. He left this Guild as pathetically as he first entered,” Trahaern scorned. ” I can’t say I miss him at all.”

“But what about Selenia?” Elvira cried. “People in Selenia are living under the rule of a tyrant! Everyone there is suffering! They need their heir! They need Prince Leonid to lead them!”

“Do they really? I don’t believe that,” the Copperajah replied coldly. “The Selenian populace need a leader who upholds the values of their country and defends them from anyone who threatens to destroy those values. They need a leader who can negotiate tactically to deal with the nuances of their people, and be strong enough to stand up to resistance from forces within and without.

“Prince Leonid possessed none of those capabilities. The Selenian people can do far better in finding a worthy tsar for their country. Maybe it’s time House Ruslan bade goodbye as a lineage, and a new one can take over Selenia’s throne. Look at us here in Alba: we have no need of lineages, and our hero Riagán never bore children. But our system of succession through finding the strongest to take on the reins ensures our nation survives to this day.”

“Right…” Arian was reminded of the conversation about tournaments with Team Scalebreaker on the flight to Breifne. Any attempt to set up a lineage is struck down pretty quickly, huh?

“…I don’t believe that His Highness is weak.” Yuliya spoke up again. “He always believed in his country and his people. In an Alban context, perhaps he cannot stand up to them. But weakness in physical strength does not equal weakness in political strength. The conviction lies within His Highness to deliver for his country! I’m sure of it!”

“We came all this way for Prince Leonid,” Elvira went on. “His presence in the fight against Mitrofan could make all the difference in bringing more people to our side.”

Trahaern sighed in annoyance. “…If you want your prince so badly, know this.” He flapped his heavy trunk upwards. “I haven’t seen him for more than a year and a half. As I said, he wanted nothing more to do with me. I never bothered keeping contact with him. I have no time for his sort.”

“…Well, that’s a problem,” Arian said. “Where could he have gone?

“What about the Archdruid?” Elvira suggested. “Would they know? They were the ones that gave His Holiness the intel on Prince Leonid.”

“That’s a suggestion,” Trahaern murmured. “Scáthach, would Their Grace know of Prince Leonid’s whereabouts?” he asked his Tánaiste.

“Hmm…” Scáthach thought about this. “Probably, yeah. The thing is…Ca’s not in town right now. I don’t think they are, anyway.”

“You don’t think?” Arian pressed. “What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t press the Tánaiste,” Trahaern suddenly interrupted. “You’re in no position to interrogate her!”

Arian flinched at the rí’s outburst. “I was just asking…” he murmured under his breath.

“Trahy, it’s fine!” a flustered Scáthach urged. “He was just curious! I’m not offended at all!” She turned back to the three Selenians. “Prince Leonid’s bound to be out there somewhere. Maybe someone in Breifne knows?”

“But Breifne’s huge!” Arian protested. He recalled seeing the Alban capital from the air, and it could hardly be called small. “How are we gonna find Prince Leonid in that?”

“You said you wished to find him. Were I you, Riolu, I would advise you get cracking on searching for him.” Trahaern fixed him with a steely glare. “True Albans do not dither. They seize the moment and get the job done without complaint. Isn’t that right, Team Scalebreaker?” he called to them.

“You betcha, Chief,” Enfys said.

“Of course, Chief. That’s the way we are,” Yannick seconded.

“The words of two of Alba’s finest,” Trahaern said. “Now then. Enough talking to me! I have no info on your prince’s whereabouts. Go out to Breifne’s streets tomorrow, where the answer lies.” He gestured to the door with his trunk. “You are dismissed. Team Scalebreaker will show you the way towards the guest rooms, where we have accommodation for you. “

“We sure will, Chief,” Yannick said. “Come on, you three. Let’s go.” He beckoned with his hand, and began to leave the throne room with Enfys. Team Elpis and Yuliya followed after him.

 

 

---

 

 

Arian didn’t say anything while the two dragons led the trio to the guest accommodation provided for them. They weaved through a few more hallways, going past dorms for the resident mercs that worked for the Guild. When they arrived in the room they had been allocated, though, he let his thoughts be known.

“Wh-What was that?!” he blasted.

“That was our rí,” Enfys said. “What, did you think you were going to get help handed to you on a plate?” She scoffed. “Idiot.”

“But did you hear him? He completely left Prince Leonid out in the cold! What leader does that to the heir of a neighbouring country?”

“Remember what Melchior told us, Arian?” Elvira reminded. “Alba and Selenia aren’t necessarily friends. It’s a shame that happened, but it wasn’t exactly unexpected.”

“…I see we’ll have our work cut out for us when it comes to relations,” Yuliya murmured. “I wasn’t aware Rí Trahaern felt neglected by His Majesty’s overtures to the East. I…I apologise. I was unaware of this.”

“Why are you apologising to me?” Yannick asked. “It’s not like you’re responsible for that. It’s your old tsar who’s to blame.”

“I don’t believe His Majesty ever intended any harm,” defended the Furret.

“Whether he did or not, he’s dead,” Enfys pointed out. “And now you gotta live with the mess he created.”

“Well…We can repair things, hopefully,” Yannick said, with a note of optimism. “Maybe if you find your prince, we can start things over.”

“Pfft. Good luck finding him,” the Gabite muttered. “If he’s out there. Honestly, I sometimes wonder if you even need the guy.”

“I beg your pardon.” Yuliya pursed her lips crossly. “We came all this way for His Highness. I will not entertain talk that we do not ‘need’ him.”

“Tch. Big question over whether this Leonid has what it takes. By what our Chief was saying, he sounds like he doesn’t have it at all,” Enfys pointed out. “Would you not just look for someone else at that point?”

“House Ruslan has ruled over Selenia for five centuries now,” Yuliya argued. “If there’s one remnant from the lineage alive, we have to find them, no matter who they are!”

“Hold it, hold it!” Yannick stepped between the Furret and Gabite. “Calm down, both of you. People are sleeping.” He put a claw to his lips.

“My apologies.” Yuliya’s voice lowered to a whisper.

“…Whatever,” Enfys huffed, not willing to argue back.

“Let’s leave the debates until tomorrow.” The Hakamo-o turned to his partner. “Come on, En. Let’s hit the hay.”

“Fine,” Enfys relented. The two dragons then headed for the door, closing it with a resounding shut, leaving the Selenians alone.

“We should go to bed as well,” Yuliya advised. “It’s late, and we should get up early tomorrow to search for His Highness.”

“I understand.” Elvira climbed to the top of one of the bunk beds, after placing her bag at the foot of it. “We can’t conduct a productive search if we’re tired, anyway.”

“Fair enough.” Arian clambered into the bunk below Elvira. Before long, the trio fell asleep, exhausted after their travels and deliberations.

Hopefully tomorrow, they could find leads.

 

 

---

 

Next morning…

*knock knock knock*

Arian’s ears flicked at the sound of what sounded like claws on wood.

“Mmm…Urgh…” He blearily opened his eyes. “Wh-Who’s knocking…?”

“I’ll get it.” Luckily, Yuliya was up, and headed for the door. Opening it, she was greeted with the familiar scowl of a Gabite. Behind her stood her partner.

“Good morning, Enfys.” Yuliya frowned, but kept her composure. “Good morning, Yannick. You’re both up early.”

“‘Course we are,” Enfys said. “Tell Team Elpis to get up. We need to train with ’em.”

“Training? I see.” The Furret turned back, only to see that the duo were up and at it, if rather sleepily.

“We’re coming,” Arian said, wiping sleep from his eye. He and Elvira made their way over to the door. “But why now?”

“To beat the sun, obviously,” snarked Enfys.

“And not to mention, we’re going to be busy ourselves over the next few days,” Yannick said. “Now’s as good a time as any to get some training in before you get bogged down with negotiations with your prince.”

“If you find him,” the Gabite reminded them, still unconvinced.

“Anyway. Let’s go to the training grounds,” Yannick said. “There’s always a spot open at this time because of how early it is.”

“I’ll stay here,” Yuliya said. “I need to look at maps of Breifne to get an idea of where His Highness might be.”

“That works. You’ve already proven your strength to us, Yuliya,” the Hakamo-o said. “But we’d like to cultivate the potential of these two just a bit more before we get caught up with stuff ourselves.”

“Understandable. I’ll see you at breakfast, then.” Yuliya waved at Team Elpis before the door closed.

The Selenians followed the Hakamo-o and Gabite through the Guild’s hallways and outside, where the first rays of sunlight were dawning on the horizon. Like the previous morning, there were a number of Pokémon milling about, with two teams looking at the noticeboard deciding on missions to take.

The group skewed off the main path, towards the training grounds, where five courts stood and a row of training dummies was lined up on either side of the court. A duo of mercs were training at the far court, but other than that, the place was virtually empty.

“Okay,” Yannick said. “I’d like to train with Arian. Enfys, you train with Elvira.”

“Sure, whatever,” Enfys replied.

“That works.” Arian shrugged.

“Alright then.” Yannick moved to the second court, with Arian following him there. Enfys and Elvira went to the first for their own training.

“Um, if I may?” Elvira asked. “What aspects are we looking to train here?”

“To see how you’ve improved and where your faults lay,” Yannick said. “We’ll help you realise them and hone your skills that little bit more.”

“Alright.” Elvira turned her gaze towards Enfys, who gave a huff. “Do we begin?”

“…I guess,” the Gabite grumbled. “Come on then. Let’s get to it.”

Enfys then dashed forward, claws at the ready. Elvira saw their glow, and readied herself to dodge, leaping out of the way as Enfys slashed. But the Gabite wasn’t deterred, turning around and firing a gout of dragonfire at Elvira.

“Ouch!” the Treecko cried, feeling the Dragon Breath burn her tail. Quickly, she rolled out of the way, narrowly dodging Enfys’ cut with her claws.

“Stop dodging!” hissed Enfys. “And fight back! You can’t just dodge all the time!”

“S-Sorry!” Elvira apologised.

“Right, let’s start again.” Enfys went back to where she started, and Elvira did the same. “Come at me, Elvira.”

“Right.” The Treecko took a breath, and steeled herself. Preparing grassy energy in her hands, she ran forward and fired it at Enfys. The dragon didn’t move, taking the hit.

It was a strong hit, enough to make the Gabite flinch. Some of the energy returned to Elvira, as a Giga Drain giving her stamina sucked from Enfys.

“Not bad,” she said. “Your strength’s something at least. But come on, let’s see how you do with me on your tail.” Enfys got into a battle stance. “Let’s do this!”

She ran back into the thick of things. Elvira prepared her Giga Drain again, placing her hands in front of her, not too unlike forming an Energy Ball like some of her evolutionary line did. Once Enfys got closer, she fired it at her. The landshark held up a fin to block the attack, and moved in to attack. But Elvira saw it coming, and sidestepped her opponent’s slash.

Seconds later, the Treecko slammed her tail into Enfys’s side, but the Gabite didn’t seem fazed by it.

“The other attack was better,” she scoffed, before she backhanded Elvira with her left fin, knocking her away. Grunting, the Treecko stood her ground.

“That reminds me of something I heard,” the dragon went on. “Didn’t Fernblade Kallias have some fighting technique where he used two Leaf Blades or something? Couldn’t you do something similar?”

“I don’t want to just be a carbon copy of my dad,” Elvira insisted. “I want to be my own person as a mercenary.”

“Yeah, but don’t fix what isn’t broken?” Enfys pointed out, somewhat confused. “You can take from his style and still be your own fighter. The way you’re doing those Giga Drain attacks…been wondering if maybe you could combine Leaf Blade with them or something?”

“I don’t know Leaf Blade,” Elvira told her. “And I’m never going to at this rate. Not if I don’t evolve.” She looked away, in an almost ashamed manner.

“How old are you?” Enfys asked.

“Eighteen…”

“The heck?” the Gabite muttered. “That’s late. You should have evolved by now, right?”

“I know!” Elvira cried. “It’s my fault. I haven’t been training. I haven’t been getting stronger like Dad would’ve wanted. I only have myself to blame for this!” Tears began to drip down her cheeks.

“H-Hey! Don’t cry!” Enfys said. “I didn’t say you couldn’t evolve! Some ‘mons evolve later than others! It doesn’t mean you can’t!”

“But I should be evolved! Evolution’s the way to get stronger.” Elvira balled her fists in frustration. “How can I stand up to Mitrofan if I can’t even become a Grovyle?”

“That wouldn’t make a difference even if you were a Sceptile and you know it,” the Gabite shot back. “Come on. Self-pity isn’t gonna get you evolved. But training will. I doubt you’re one of those ‘mons that should evolve but can’t. You’re never gonna get stronger if you think like that.”

“R-Right…” Elvira shakily said, breathing in deeply to calm herself down and will away those demons of thought.

As she did this, before getting back into the training, her eyes cast down the courts, to her partner, who was sparring with Yannick.

I wonder how Arian’s getting on?

 

 

---

 

 

As it happened, Arian was not getting on well. Rarely had he been able to land the upper hand against his opponent, who looked to have barely broken a sweat. The Riolu had been put through the ringer, if him clutching his bruised chest was anything to go by.

“How do we awaken that aura?” wondered Yannick, in a brief moment of respite. “You said it came out when your friends were in danger back in Selenia, right? And it appeared again when you were fighting Sorcha. But you say you don’t know what it’s all about?”

“No, I don’t,” Arian said, looking at his paws. “I really wish I did, though. Then I’d know how to actually use it to its full potential.” He clenched his paw in annoyance.

“Could it be a ‘thick of battle’ thing?” Yannick suggested. “Maybe it’s a deep-seated instinct that activates as you get more heated in battle?”

“Maybe?” Arian shrugged. “I don’t know. I wish I knew…!”

“Let’s find out if my theory’s true, then.” The Hakamo-o cracked his knuckles, before dashing forward with his fists brandished. Arian quickly readied himself for the incoming dragon, holding his own fists in front of him.

Yannick threw out a right hook, which Arian tried to block. The force nearly knocked him back, but the Riolu held firm, and swung a kick at the dragon’s stomach. Alas, the dragon’s scales were tough, and the attack did not faze Yannick, who returned his own kick to Arian’s midsection.

“Argh!” Arian cried out. He had no time to process this, though, before Yannick slammed his left fist into his face, knocking him down once again.

He fought to get back up again, as the Hakamo-o loomed over him.

“Well, Arian? Do you feel in a corner yet?” he asked.

“A bit.” Arian gulped. Good thing this is only sparring. If this was a real duel, I’d be finished, he thought.

“Good. That might be the trigger that causes that power to appear. If we push you a bit more, then we might be able to bring it out!” Excitement danced in Yannick’s eyes, with all the eagerness of a sparrer. Arian had seen that same thrill in Lex’s eyes when they’d duelled back in the Guild.

“A bit more…” The Riolu was nowhere near as excited as the dragon. But curiosity was keeping him going, over figuring out just what this power was. “Alright, I’ll keep going. Just…give me a minute.”

“Fair enough.” Yannick backed off slightly. “But let’s keep the momentum going, yeah?”

“Yeah…” Arian took a few breaths, and after a minute, readied himself for another bout. He raised his fists in a fighting stance, Yannick doing the same. Then they ran towards one another again.

“Come at me, Arian! Give it all you’ve got!” Yannick yelled at him.

Arian didn’t reply, focusing on his fists. If I could just awaken this power within…! He gazed up at his opponent, and met his outstretched fist as their two punches collided. The Riolu felt his fist shake. Come on, come on! He held firm, hoping for that blue aura to emerge once again.

“Nope!”

Sadly, it wasn’t to be. Yannick was greater in strength than his trainee, and broke the deadlock. Arian had no time to react before the dragon slammed an uppercut into him, knocking him through the air and onto his back.

“Urgh…Ow,” Arian moaned, as he lay on the ground, staring at the Alban dawn and reeling from the pain.

“Hmm. Seems we couldn’t get it that time.” Yannick entered his vision. “Oh well. We’ll just try again.” He outstretched a hand, which Arian took.

“Right, now let’s…” The Hakamo-o’s voice trailed off as he saw something at the entrance. Arian could see it as well.

A long slender blue serpent with a white belly and wings on its head seemed to be slithering towards them. Yannick’s eyes lit up as he called out to her.

“Sabrina! Hey!”

“Yannie!” a chipper and dulcet voice called out, as the Dragonair came closer to them. “I missed you!”

“I know, I know,” Yannick said. “Things got a bit busy down in Mumhain.”

“Is it to do with the Selenians in town? I heard something about that,” Sabrina asked.

“Yes. There’s three of them that believe their lost prince is here in Alba, and they’re trying to find him. In fact—” The Hakamo-o gestured to Arian. “This is one of them. His name’s Arian.”

“Arian?” Sabrina’s eyes brightened instantly. “Awww, look at him! He’s so cute!”

Cute? Me? “Er…th-thanks,” Arian stuttered, unsure of how to take the compliment.

“He kinda is,” Yannick chuckled. “Definitely has potential, too. With the right amount of training, he’ll be a force to be reckoned with.” He put a hand on Arian’s shoulder, the Riolu jumping slightly in surprise at the gesture.

“Ooh, cute and strong!” Sabrina cooed. “I love people like that. That’s why I like you so much, Yannie!” She coiled around Yannick’s torso, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He returned his own kiss, and both of them made contented noises.

“Yannick?” Arian asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable. “Who is this?”

“Oh, this is Sabrina,” Yannick introduced, as the Dragonair in question slithered back to the ground. “She’s my girlfriend! We’ve sorta bonded over the last few months or so, and I like her a lot. She’s helped me and Enfys out as an auxiliary sometimes. She’s pretty strong too – hell, she tends to hold her own a lot of the time. She doesn’t even need a team! That makes you stronger than most, eh, Bri?” He winked coyly at her.

“Y-Yannie!” Sabrina’s coils tightened shyly. “I-I’m not that good…”

“But you are. Why else would you win me over with your skill? A lot of people, men and women alike, try to woo me, but there are only a few really special ones. And you’re one of them.”

“You’re so sweet, you big hunk of a mon!” Sabrina coiled around Yannick’s right arm and brought her face to his. The two then enjoyed another kiss, this one deeper than before, and definitely enjoyed a lot more by both dragons.

Arian curled his lip in discomfort. “Get a room, you two,” he muttered.

“Oh, we have.” Sabrina broke off from the kiss to speak. “Many times. Haven’t we, Yannie?”

“We have, indeed.” Yannick cast a glance at the Riolu, and caught the look in his eyes. “Though maybe let’s continue this somewhere else.”

“But what about my training?” Arian asked.

“Yeah…sorry about that, Arian,” the Hakamo-o apologised. “But there are other things that need doing, anyway. En and I have got missions, and you have a prince to find. Besides, I think En and Elvira are done anyway.” Looking over at the two, he saw the Gabite and Treecko making their way over.

“Hey, you two,” he greeted, once they arrived. “How’s the training?”

“It went okay. But no sparks flew or anything,” Enfys reported. “You didn’t get anything either?”

“Well, we got a few rounds of punches in. He’s better than he was down at the border,” Yannick said. “Keep at it, Arian, and you’ll do well.”

“Thanks, Yannick,” Arian said, grateful for that small bit of reassurance.

“Now then. You know the routine,” Yannick declared proudly. “Any training session should immediately be followed by a big meal!” As if to emphasise his point, his stomach growled hungrily.

“I swear you’re just training as an excuse to get food afterwards,” Enfys dryly remarked.

“Hey, it’s what you’re meant to do!” defended Yannick. “Our greatest warriors follow that routine. It builds your body up too. How else do you think I got guns like these?” He flexed his arm muscles, biceps bulging.

“So muscular…” Sabrina was in awe. “You’re a dream, Yannie.”

“Tch,” Enfys huffed in annoyance. “Simp.”

“Oh, look. Little Miss Grumpy Fins getting jealous over her partneragain,” Sabrina said. “You’re not very good at hiding it, Ennie. We should call you ‘Envys’ instead!” She giggled at that, and even Yannick fought hard to contain his laughter.

“What, jealous of you getting him?” Enfys cast an eye towards her partner. “I’ve been his partner for years. You don’t know him like I do, and you never will.” There seemed to be a gruffer edge to her voice, almost in a defensive manner.

“Aw, come on.” Sabrina suddenly sounded hurt. “There’s always room for someone else in Team Scalebreaker, isn’t there?”

“Three’s a crowd,” snarled Enfys.

“Plenty of teams are made of threes!”

“Yann and I work as a duo! That’s how it’s always been, and you’re not changing that with a few flirty words!”

“It’s not a few flirty words! You’ve seen me in action, and Yannie knows how capable I am!”

“Alright, enough, you two!” Yannick stepped between them. “I don’t want to eat breakfast with you two girls throwing insults at each other. You’ve ruined plenty of good meals with that attitude already. Can’t we just be friends?”

“No,” Enfys said, before turning to Sabrina. “There’s something fishy about you. I’ll eat my scarf if it turns out you’re clean.”

“Hope you like rawst fabric, then,” Sabrina quipped. “Oh, and by the way. I’m a dragon. I’m not fishy at all!” She stuck her tongue out at the Gabite.

“Grrragh!” Enfys hissed, fangs bared. “Fuck you, you slimy little jump rope!”

“En, enough!” Yannick cried. “Please…no more. You’re making us look bad in front of Team Elpis. Give it a rest. Please?”

“…Fine.” Oddly, Enfys’ reply sounded almost resigned.

“Now come on.” The Hakamo-o beckoned to everyone. “Let’s go fill our bellies.”

They all trotted, or slithered in Sabrina’s case, towards the Guild’s canteen. The argument had soured the mood somewhat, but the mood wasn’t all that great among two of them to begin with.

Neither Elvira nor Arian really felt they had progressed far in training. For both of them, and Arian in particular, it felt like they were on the verge of grasping their potential, but it remained out of reach. Both were disappointed that they still felt powerless.

But to Arian, what became more prevalent was the hurt that rolled off Enfys in waves. Arian could sense it, and he found himself considering the events that took place.

She sounded so defensive over it all. Sabrina wanted to join Team Scalebreaker, Enfys said no, they had a fight, Yannick told her to back off, and she listened? But why does she feel so defensive over it? She wasn’t like that on the way up.

Then again…we didn’t have a third wheel in the mix.

His gaze turned to Sabrina. The Dragonair, contrary to her Gabite adversary, didn’t seem peeved or angered at all. Rather, she was slithering along the path with content as she shared loving glances with Yannick. At one point, she leaned in for another quick kiss, and the Hakamo-o gave her one.

She seemed happy. Too happy. Arian’s brow furrowed as he continued to observe Sabrina,and one thought stuck in his mind as the group travelled to the canteen.

There might be more to her than meets the eye…