Chapter 4: Church, Caudle, Furlong

Snow crunched beneath their feet with each step they took, the frigid mountain winds threatening to push them back down the slope on their way up. Hiro and his newfound companions prevailed through the tug of war and reached the top. At long last, Drago’s Watch revealed itself atop a charred black mountain. Nestled among the snowcapped spires surrounding it, Drago’s Watch evoked the ferocity of dragons whose very existence defied nature. There were striking black spires that clawed their way out of stone to form a bony barrier caging the outpost in, and many more jutting out like dragon spines.

Did Hiro’s eyes deceive him? He blinked a few times, wiped snow off his muzzle, and yet the largest cliff on that snowless mountain still looked like a dragon’s head roaring at the heavens. Did such a mountain always exist like that from the beginning? Someone must’ve carved it that way, surely.

Atlas broke Hiro out of his enchantment with a tap on his shoulder and offering a remark.

“Rest assured, we will still arrive by sun-down at our current pace,” Atlas said as he took a few steps forward, paused a moment, then called Hiro over to lead the way.

Hiro quirked a brow. Aside from the winding path below that snaked its way to the front gates of the outpost, there wasn’t anything as far as the eye could see that’d make one lost. The Sneasel wondered what was up with Atlas’ sense of direction… Was he always like that? Hiro had a few odd quirks of his own like the incessant purring whenever he got excited, or his ears moving on their own at the slightest of sounds. Perhaps Atlas’ condition was just a trait of his kind too.

Curious as Hiro was, he found it intrusive to prod so he took up the Expedition gadget and walked ahead. Having climbed up their way so far, Hiro heaved a relieved sigh that their destination was finally upon them.

They arrived with sore limbs and ice flakes clinging to their fur—or costume in Mebh’s case—from hiking up the mountain pass.

Luckily for them, they hardly had trouble finding an inn to rest at for the night, as well as a dragon lift to fly them to Lively Town the following morning. Both the innkeeper and the Salamence carrier seemed almost a little too friendly—when the party approached, they perked up and put on smiles that the other customers didn’t get. Hiro thought that was a little strange, but as they made their way to their rooms to lay down their packs, it hit him: any person not living under a rock would recognize Atlas right away. Those who didn’t know his face had at least heard about the striking crossed thunderbolts embroidered on the back of his cape.

Especially if the titles of ‘Chief of The Expedition Society’ or ‘Wandering Thunder’ carried any power, which they clearly did.

After a quick meal, Atlas allowed Hiro and Mebh to freely explore the small outpost town at their insistence.

…..

The soreness of travel burned freshly in Hiro’s limbs, but that hardly deterred the pulsing in his chest from just thinking about exploring what Drago’s Watch had to offer. It was the first town they’d been to in days, and the first to have anything more advanced than rocky dens and huts. Hiro wanted to take in as much of it as he could before they leave in the morning.

A pair of large dragon statues sat just at the end of the road leading out of the inn. They were crafted in the likeness of stiff-winged birds. Hiro observed that the dragons had no legs, though they had short clawed arms. Whoever they might have been, did they not need to walk?

Hiro peeked at their faces to learn their names, but nothing sprung to his mind. Maybe he could only recognize Pokemon that were alive… Hiro idly scraped a claw on the statue’s base when he caught a Fraxure giving him odd looks. Guards? He looked menacing enough even without sturdy armor or pikes in hand. The statues must’ve held great importance. He slowly balled his claw and stepped back. The Fraxure shrugged and went about their way. It was only when the dragon turned their back to him that Hiro noticed the sack of potatoes they were carrying.

Hiro moved on from the statues and wandered some more. Each building they came across seemed to be built with bricks forged out of dragon fire and brimstone. They were generally simple in construction with little of the way of adornments. What few lavish ones the town had were painted in muted colors, their bodies molded in the image of mighty dragon heads, claws, tails and everything in between. The whole town made Hiro feel like he was walking atop the body of a dragon slain by forgotten gods a long time ago.

Mebh didn’t share Hiro’s enthusiasm for exploration, always lagging steps behind while Hiro walked with a spring in his steps. Her gaze wandered about, never settling on anything more than a few seconds before drifting to another, then a spray of snow struck her in the face. She snapped her gaze at Hiro with a hiss only to find him speeding up one of the buildings.

“The race is on, Mebh!” Hiro flashed a grin at her from his perch, and then vanished in a cloud of speckled dust.

A trail of white flowed behind him as he raced ahead on the rooftops. Scaling up the buildings came easy—most of them were so rough and jagged that his claws had no trouble finding a good grip to hoist himself over. Being above the ground below soaked Hiro’s heart with a sense of ease, like a bird that learned to fly and could no longer imagine a life on the ground.

Mebh wouldn’t let herself lose so easily a second time, shooting over him like a harpoon and landing ahead. Soon he was the one chasing her and not the other way round.

Their race brought them all the way to the top of the tallest dragon spine tower, where a conclusion was met and a winner declared.

“You sure you… didn’t go easy on me last night?” asked Hiro, hunched over with all his feathers drooped like withered leaves.

Mebh bobbed her head and cooed triumphantly in response while Hiro dropped to his rump to take a deep breath. He flashed the Mimikyu a thumbs up, leaving their score at one to one.

The two companions then shared a quiet moment watching wispy clouds sailing across the sky ahead, painted a bright peach by the remnant luminance of the setting sun far in the distance.

Mebh snuggled up Hiro’s side, her beady eyes trailing after a Dragonair and Drampa pair far down on the ground, loitering about in the evening cold. The Drampa had a hat with a panache of black feathers, while the Dragonair sported a heavy-looking cloak. Could they be hiding something beneath it?

Hiro noticed Mebh’s attention remained fixed on the pair and gulped while he drummed his claw on the stony shingles. “You’re not going to… you know… are you? Looks a bit far down if you ask me.”

Mebh hissed at him like a cat forced to watch a mouse across a window just barely out of reach. She shook her head, and he sighed in relief. Of course she wouldn’t have ambushed those two. Though If she did try anything, would he even be able to stop her at all? He harkened back to the previous night when he first agreed to ‘play’, brushed his forehead gem and grimaced to himself. Him stopping Mebh? Probably not. That scared him even more.

Hiro crossed his legs and rested his head on his palm. A gust swept over the roof, sending a drifting snowflake onto his nose. It almost made him sneeze. As he wiped his face, he spared another glance at the buildings surrounding them, a stray thought wandering to his mind.

“Why do you think they made their houses like that, Mebh?” asked Hiro. “Do you think the lord of the land told them to do it?”

Mebh’s head drooped the other way as she shifted around.

“Not matter,” she answered, then plucked her paddle tail to sharpen it against the rough shingles.

Hiro chuckled at her response and shook his head. The air felt so nice that night, like a soft blanket against his fur. Just as he was about to lean back and lie flat on the roof, his feathers twitched—he sensed something—and his fur brambled up by the thousands on his back.

Mebh hissed and held her paddle tail till it almost snapped, while Hiro leapt to his feet, claws outstretched. When they’d climbed the tower, there had been no one there. Now there was a ghost-like being standing on the other edge of the roof. Their jade mantis-like claws hooked on the shingles and their beaten wings draped beside them like tattered curtains. Their eyes burned with a crimson glow, their gaze fixed to the sky as if to rain blood on the heavens above.

Hiro widened his eyes, immediately recognizing the flickering green and black fractal disks drifting around the figure. They reminded him of the ones he’d seen in that dream from the other night, but these ones had a sense of foreboding to them.

“Who are y—”

Before the rest of the question could leave his mouth, Mebh shot forward faster than he could blink. She closed in on the ghostly mantis, swung her tail like a blade. Her tail cut through the air, phasing through the apparition as if it wasn’t there.

A sudden gust pushed her back, and the ghostly figure was gone. The air settled and the snowflakes fell from the sky. All was normal again.

Hiro heaved a breath and almost dropped to his knees. Just what was that? He pressed the back of his paw to his chest, and felt his heart drumming.

“That was creepy, right, Mebh?” What strength Hiro had left in his legs evaporated like steam, forcing him to sit down with an agitated growl. He couldn’t stop thinking about those crimson eyes… Just who was that?

Mebh scooted up beside the trembling Sneasel and began patting him softly on the head. “Silly Scyther gone. Hiro safe now.”

“What are you doing that for?” Hiro asked, raising a brow. He grimaced at the gesture, though he didn’t quite move his head away either as she kept doing it. It actually made him feel better, though Hiro didn’t want to admit that.

“Let’s go back. We should tell Atlas what we saw…” Hiro said, casting another disturbed glance at the empty spot where the Scyther had been.

“No,” Mebh answered right away, which made Hiro quirk a brow. “Atlas should not know… danger. Hiro safe now.”

Mebh’s answer gave Hiro pause. He wanted to press her more about what she meant, but decided against it in the end. If even Mebh was telling him to be wary of what he said around Atlas… Perhaps she understood more than she let on.

…..

Atlas meanwhile stayed behind in the inn, resting on one of the two beds of rolled hay as he waited for Hiro and Mebh’s return. Though the Innkeeper offered them the best room at a generous discount, Atlas still chose the one that had just a single window letting in a trickle of moonlight, the two beds opposite one another and a small wooden table. For travelers on the move, it provided everything they needed.

He glanced at the steam wafting from the bowl of hot chesto broth atop the side drawer to his left. A drink like that tasted better while still hot. He pulled the bowl closer and helped himself to a sip, savoring the slightly bitter taste that lingered on his tongue.

After a few more, he set the bowl down to retrieve his expedition gadget. A soft blue light washed over his fur as the device flickered to life. It was time to sift through its message logs, and learn what and how much he’d missed during travel.

In those idle moments, his thoughts harkened back to Mebh and Hiro. The former he’d come across while chasing rumors of a ‘ragged specter’ terrorizing the countryside, and the latter…

Hiro was even more of a mystery to him than Mebh in a few ways. Even if he only considered the gaps in Hiro’s memories, Atlas knew more lay hidden below the surface.

Just where had he come from before they found him nearly dead in Open Pass? A few guesses had sprung to mind in the days that passed. Out of everymon in the Expedition Society, there was only one mon Atlas knew that may hold some clue to the mystery.

Atlas swiped a palm across his gadget’s screen to summon a list of names. Each one had a small colorful winged icon corresponding to it. With an upward swipe, he found the name he was looking for and gave it a light tap. While waiting for the connection to establish, he took another sip of chesto broth.

In the time it took him to set the bowl back down, the gadget came back to life with a soft ring. A feminine voice spoke from the other end.

“[I wasn’t expecting a call today, Chief.]”

The Ampharos grinned. He could clearly picture in his mind those tired but focused eyes. Always eagle eyed over a sea of papers and artifacts strewn across an office on all the walls, desks and shelves. That was Thena, the Mawile archeologist of the Expedition Society.

“[So, what’s the occasion? Did you stumble upon something again this time? An old ruin, an undiscovered dungeon?]” Thena paused for a moment. Something clinked from the speaker. She must’ve been working on a trinket of some sort. “[Perhaps you’ve snatched an ancient artifact from an outlaw unlucky enough to cross paths with you?]”

“You’re so quick to assume I’m calling because of work, Thena. For all you know, I’m calling because I have grown homesick and wish to return home to my loved ones where I belong,” Atlas replied, which earned a dry chuckle from the other end.

“Sure you are. But really, what is this about?]”

“For tonight, it’s nothing you could possibly guess. I assure you.”

“[Is that so? Then tell me what you have to share.]”

Atlas crossed his legs and placed the gadget beside him on the bed.

“The other day, I rescued a mon in Open Pass. I found him cornered by a trio of Beheeyem bandits, the poor lad.” He shifted his weight and leaned forward to sit better. “His elemental cloak was so weak that he would have died had we not shown up when we did.”

“[Bandits in Open Pass? We get some of those every now and then, it seems,]” Thena replied, sounding uninterested. To her credit, one could fill a scroll stretching into the horizon with the names of all the mon Atlas had saved in the past, directly or not. So what was one more?

Atlas had a knowing smile on his face, eager to hear her reaction to his next words.

“Church, Caudle, Furlong…” Silence hung in the air as he spoke those words. “Do any of those words mean anything to you?”

Hushed mutters came, followed by shuffling of papers and the creaking of a stool pushed hurriedly across the floor. Atlas could hear all of that from his gadget. He quirked a brow in thought. Getting a strong reaction like that out of Thena was nothing short of rare. The last time he succeeded had been when he retrieved the Grass Cornet from a decrepit tomb.

“[Just where did you hear those words from?]” Thena asked, her voice shaking with urgency.

“From that same mon I saved,” Atlas replied without delay. “He was a fellow traveler, or at least I assume he is one.” He leaned forward, the yellow flicker of his head gem flashing over the room’s walls. “He’s a Sneasel that goes by the name Hiro.”

“[A named mon? Interesting. How so very… interesting,]” Thena said, the grating rumble of her rear jaw sending ripples over Atlas’ chesto broth.

Atlas leaned back, his gem catching the blue tint of the moonlit sky. “He uses words like ‘people’ when talking about others, asked me if I was a ‘constable’. While we were crossing Nectar Meadow, I overheard him stare off into the distance, almost in a daze, and he muttered something about ‘horses’ and ‘knights’.”

Thena almost gasped. “[Atlas, do you know where those words came from?]”

“I do not.”

“[Right. Of course. Most Pokemon wouldn’t, so I don’t blame you. They’re words of human origin.]”

Atlas furrowed his brows, his eyes darkening while he brought a palm to his chin. “You’re suggesting he is one?”

“[Of course not.” Thena immediately said. “[There are likelier explanations we have to consider first. Where is… A moment please.]”

Something thumped lightly from the Expedition Gadget. Atlas sighed and closed his eyes. He could picture Thena reaching for one of her many shelves, pulling out an old book, and blowing off the dust layers from years of non-use. “[The last human said to visit our world left behind a journal. A highly sought-after relic. The only copy of which had ended in my possession.]”

“I see. And what secrets does the journal hold?”

“[More than you’d imagine, and it sheds some light about this human’s life. There have also been others like him across the ages.]”

“Yes, that much I know. Even I have heard my fair share of fairy tales.”

“[Indeed. Though the time humans spend on our world is ultimately brief, the impacts they leave behind often persist. Even now there are small scattered cultures where the influence of past humans can be felt.]”

“Such as?”

“[The Town With No Name in the Mist continent for example, where everymon has a name.]” Thena paused, perhaps in thought. “[This Sneasel traveler, Hiro, where did he say he was from? Chances are that he’s from one of those places.]”

Atlas sighed and brushed his palm over his chin. Did Hiro ever mention anything about a hometown at any point during their travel? Atlas struggled to point to any instance in his mind. The closest thing he had to an answer were places they went to that seemed to remind Hiro of somewhere. Rolling hills, farm fields, carriages, to name a few.

“He does not remember,” he said. “In fact, he hardly remembers anything at all.”

“[You’re sure he’s not intentionally being evasive?]”

“That would make it all the stranger that he’d let the words ‘knight’ and ‘horse’ slip, right?” Atlas answered with a short laugh.

“[Yeah, that’s a good point,]” Thena chuckled in return. “[Or he’s a terrible liar.]”

“I’d listen to my gut. And my gut tells me he’s genuine,” he said.

Atlas then told Thena the full story of how he met Hiro. Beginning from how he’d rescued the Sneasel from a trio of unknown Beheeyem outlaws, and everything that had happened over the course of their journey together during the past few days.

Thena took a moment to assess that tale, only to sigh. “[I see. How curious. I’d very much like to meet him in person.]”

“That can be arranged,” replied Atlas with a shrug.

“[Ze’Mer will be handling him, I presume?]”

Atlas nodded to himself. “Once his memories are restored, we’ll know who or what he truly is.”

“[And based on what you learn, do you plan on adding him to your ever-growing list of eccentric recruits?]”

Atlas chuckled and brushed his palm across his forehead. “That’s hard for me to judge right now. At the moment… He does not strike me as being cut out for our work.”

He got the impression Thena had a brief glint in her eyes as he said that, and perhaps she was now tapping her cheek in thought.

“[Well, who am I to cast doubt on your intuition?]” Thena remarked, which made Atlas smile. She spoke again, her voice a bit distant like she’d walked to a different part of her work room. Perhaps to return the old journal back to its place. “[So, we should be expecting your return by the turn of summer or so then?]”

“Believe it or not, no.” Atlas smirked and finished what remained of the chesto broth, following up with a satisfied hum. “I’m at Dragos Watch as we speak.”

“[That’s… nearby. I expected you to roam at least another month more before coming back here.]”

“You wound me. It’s not as surprising as you make it sound, surely?”

Thena laughed, and he could feel her picking up her expedition gadget from the other end. “[Still, your timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Dit would’ve called you back anyways even if you didn’t plan to return.]”

“Hmm, something urgent came up?”

“[Yes,]” Thena replied matter of factly. “[Strange happenings have been spreading across the continent. Trouble might be afoot, or so he thinks.]”

Atlas’ eyes dimmed. He reached a palm out and caught a few specks of dust shimmering in the moonlight radiating through the window. Trouble presented challenge. It was not challenge he feared, but the far-reaching effects they could have for those uninvolved too. His bed creaked as he shifted his weight back with a sigh.

“This is a conversation best had in person. I’ll have the full briefing when I return.”

“[As you say, Chief. Is that everything then?]”

“Yes. Take care, Thena.”

“[Likewise.]”

…..

Hiro was beginning to get the feeling that he was not a morning person. Not by a long shot. He and Mebh hadn’t returned from their little excursion until well into the night—they’d lost track of time somehow while further exploring Drago’s Watch.

Atlas had run into the two just as he was about to leave the lodgings to search for them. Much to his relief, he found that they were alright. He left quietly, trying not to disturb Hiro’s sleep.

Strong gales and the steady rocking of a saddle jostled Hiro awake. He opened his eyes, only to flinch at the sun burning brightly among the clouds. Clouds? Hiro soon discovered himself on the back of a mighty dragon with bright crimson wings and sturdy blue scales.

A Salamence. The very same one Atlas hired to take them to Lively Town, judging by the scar just under the dragon’s neck. And why was Mebh sitting atop the Salamence’s head? She didn’t seem at all worried that the winds might carry her off and send her plummeting down to the earth…

“Eyes on the sky, Hiro,” Atlas announced, his voice still booming in the turbulent winds. “We’ll arrive at Lively Town soon.”

Hiro peeked over the saddle, and there was nothing to see but an ocean of white clouds in all directions below.

“How can you tell?” Hiro asked, to which Atlas only grinned in response.

“Buckle up! I’m going for a dive!” Salamence announced.

Hiro gasped in shock and gripped his claws to the saddle, anticipating a sharp and nauseating descent. Yet, he hardly felt any different even as Salamence cut into the clouds. He didn’t have to look to know Atlas was smirking his way. He could only try and act casual to hide his brief embarrassment.

It was then that Hiro noticed the strange sphere glimmering near the base of the saddle. He almost mistook it for a Luminous Orb at first. What was it? Did it alter their balance somehow? It must have, otherwise he, Atlas and Mebh would’ve needed multiple belts and harnesses to stay seated on the back of such an agile dragon.

The pokemon world had even more sorcery Hiro didn’t understand. The trembling in his limbs persisted even as he plucked his claws off the saddle.

The ocean of clouds parted beneath them at long last, and a great landscape unveiled itself to them. A small blip appeared on the horizon, looking like a colorful blot of sprinkles in the distance. Hiro had a guess as to what it was in his mind: Lively Town.

…..

Salamence slowed to a glide as they flew over the colorful landscape of Lively Town. Wonder filled Hiro’s eyes as he watched from the saddle. Even without his memories, he knew with absolute certainty that he’d never been anywhere like it before.

Their dragon ride swerved to the right and arced towards one of the high cliffs near the edge of town to a sprawling district. Hiro saw many towers dotted around on their way there, and many had bird Pokemon resting on perches built on the spires. Most of them were asleep, but some threw languid glances their way while they readied themselves to start a whole new day.

Hiro caught something up ahead. It looked like a trick of the light at first. Somehow, he could see the bluish waves swimming upwards from behind the cliff. A quick glance at Atlas suggested he could see it too. Just what was it? Could it have been the wind?

Salamence sped into it, flying against the tide of the upward gales. Hiro’s feathers fluttered wildly, but he paid no mind. He couldn’t help but smile in wonder at the strange experience.

They came to a pocket where the wind wasn’t as strong, and Salamence once again came to a steady glide. He aimed for one of the high ledges with a large painted arrow pointing away from the cliff.

“Prepare for landing!” boomed Salamence’s voice just as he beat his wings harder and made a swift dive for the landing zone.

Hiro instinctively dug his claws again into the saddle. This time they went in so deeply that when Salamence finally brought them to solid ground, it took a bit of effort to yank his limbs free.

Mebh hopped off Salamence’s head first, and Hiro followed soon after. As he leapt down and skidded to a halt, he took a brief pause to absorb everything around him.

The Aery Cliff district welcomed them with several inns in all directions, and many strangely shaped buildings here and there. What caught his eye though were the various statues and shrines he could glimpse on some of the paths and intersections. Did they represent gods of some kind? He liked the peacock looking one with rainbow wings.

Atlas meanwhile exchanged a few words with their Salamence pilot. The two shared a laugh after some back and forth, then Salamence offered a brief salute with his wing then took to the skies again.

Hiro wondered if he was going back to Drago’s Watch so soon. Did their trip not exhaust him at all? Dragons like him must’ve been full of vitality if so.

“We best get going then,” Atlas said, walking over to Hiro and Mebh. “You two must be famished. Why don’t we go and grab something? I know a place in the main part of town.”

“Not eating here?” Mebh asked, scooting up to him.

Atlas chuckled. “Well, their cuisine isn’t going to be up our alley… I’ve never been much fond of birdseed. Come on.”

Atlas and the others set off towards one of the roads leading out of the district. Hiro still felt like he was freeloading off Atlas a bit too much… but they were going to get back his memories soon. If he could reclaim whatever experiences he once had, then he’ll be able to manage on his own, surely. And then he could pay back all the generosity he’d received so far.

…..

Roselia finished two cups of herbal tea for a pair of customers waiting for their meal. A smile flicked the edge of his lips, satisfied with his work as the pecha and cheri aroma of the tea reached his face. He extended vines around the cups like snakes and placed them atop of the counter on a tray. He then added a chocolate cake with lots of whipped cream. Lastly, a finishing touch. He folded a napkin and tucked it in between the cups.

Roselia cupped his flowers over his face to give his small voice the extra volume he needed.

“23! 23! Your order’s ready!” Roselia announced, then he could see a Quilava and Axew pair get up from their table.

Most of Roselia’s co-workers would’ve waited to see the approaching customer’s face, their smile or dissatisfied frown. The latter they got much less frequently. Yet Roselia had already dropped his flowers beside him as the Quilava and Axew approached, and turned around to prepare more teas as his cheeks flushed a shade greener.

Bells jingled from the front door, welcoming new customers onto the verdant green carpet at the front door. Roselia didn’t so much as peek over his shoulder to steal a glance at who came in. The confidence to talk to strangers hadn’t returned to him yet.

“Whoa, ho, ho, if it isn’t Atlas!”

Roselia’s eyes widened like plates. Did he hear Maractus right? He stood there dazed for so long that he flinched when tea overflowed from the cup in his flower. He turned the nozzle on the water heater and whirled around with a groan.

There Atlas was, Maractus guiding him inside, alongside two Pokemon Roselia had never seen before. A Sneasel and… he didn’t know what the other was. The grass-type spread his roses out—determined to act as much like a real plant as he could—and ducked down so only his horns and eyes peeked over the counter to watch them. A jolt went up his head, Sceptile’s words from the previous night coming to mind.

“A Sneasel and something in… a costume? It’s really them…” he gasped with sparkling eyes. Atlas’ new recruits, he assumed. The few customers in the café—usual early morning regulars—all drew their eyes towards Atlas. Some mon waved, others merely throwing knowing glances before returning to their conversations. A few were more intrigued by the Ampharos’ companions, watching them with curiosity.

Maractus brought Atlas and his cohorts to their table, even sparing a moment to show them how the shroom stools worked. Twist the knob once or twice, watch the stool go up or down. By the time the cactus left, the Sneasel had to hiss something at the ragged one, who was making her stool go higher and higher…

Roselia stole a few more glances at the three mon from his hiding spot. Atlas left the other two to their antics, his expedition gadget laid out on the table and another small doohickey pressed to his ear while he talked to somemon.

It was strange. Roselia didn’t know what to think of the Sneasel—who was eating his strawberry cake like he’d been starved for days—any more than the ragged one. Either his eyes deceived him or the other one was trying to eat the table mat—

Roselia’s eyes met Atlas’ for a brief moment, and he quickly ducked down. He stiffened and cupped his flowers over his face. He could no longer see their faces, and he shrank further as he accepted that. The tea he’d spilled earlier flowed down in quiet drops onto the carpet, reminding him to find a rag to clean up the mess.

He clenched his teeth and groaned. The last time Atlas had seen him was years ago. He’d been but a small Budew at the time. Would his Gramps even remember him? What would he even say if they spoke? He shook his head and sighed with drooped shoulders, wiping the spilled tea with sluggish melancholy.

Under the chiming hum of bells, stools shifted over the wooden floor, and Atlas and his cohorts departed after finishing their meals. Even to the very end, Roselia still couldn’t…

A light jab at his side snapped him out of his thoughts.

“H-hey! What was that for, Steenee?” Roselia said with puffed cheeks.

Steenee responded with a smirk and a shake of her head, one hand hidden behind her back.

“Wow, dude. You really just stood there and watched Atlas leave?” Steenee then asked, taking the rag—sticky with spilled tea—and tossed it aside into a bin. Both grass types locked eyes on one another now, but Roselia only lasted mere moments under her gaze before looking away, ashamed and frustrated.

“That’s not it. I was busy working the teas, a-and besides it looked like they were in a hurry,” Roselia argued.

“Mhm, I bet they were.” Steenee unveiled what hid in her other hand. A ball of silky black thread with a white needle stabbed right down the center. “One of them even forgot this. I think it was the costumed one.”

Roselia spared a curious glance at the thread ball, then he looked away again. “Oh… Well I’m sure they’ll come back for it later.”

A smile flicked on the edge of Steenee’s lips, her calyx pigtails wobbling to the side as she tilted her head. Roselia knew where things were headed, and he wanted to stop that carkoal in its tracks.

“N-no,” Roselia said with a vigorous shake of his head and a cupping of his roses over his face. “Make Maractus do it, not me. I… I just don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”

The playfulness of Steenee’s smile lightened, and she aired out a sigh. “Atlas asked me about you by the way.”

Roselia dropped his flowers so swiftly that Steenee nearly flinched.

“Really? What did he say?”

“Not much really. He thought you were feeling unwell or had something going on. Told him you were fine though.”

Oh, she didn’t tell Atlas it was him even though she knew their relationship. The anticipation in Roselia’s eyes dimmed a bit. Steenee climbed up the stool beside him, nearly double his meager height.

“Point I’m making is that Atlas isn’t some scary wildener that’ll bite your head off if you look at him wrong or something.”

Roselia pouted. “Never said he was…”

“Of course not.” Steenee chuckled and pushed the thread ball towards him. “All I’m saying is that even if it seems scary at first, you’ll soon find that talking to him is not so bad after all.”

Roselia met Steenee’s eyes, her smile radiating with confidence. Then he looked at the thread ball, black and smooth… which might as well have been a ball of spikes as he reluctantly held it in between his red and blue roses.

“I’m on duty though. I can’t just leave…” Roselia muttered, the haunting gaze of doubt still boring holes into his back.

Steenee quirked a brow, stared him dead in the eyes before rolling her own. She gave him a light nudge, gestured at the door, and said, “Just go. I’ll take over your shift.”

“B-but—”

“Just… go say hi when you return it, and then you can come back.” She gave him a small flick on his head. “Easy as that. I’m sure your gramps will be glad to see you again. Even that alone will make his day I’m sure.”

Roselia sighed, drooping his flowers in defeat. “Alright… Fine.”

The flower mon hopped off his stool and walked around the counter. Every step he took closer to the door leading outside felt harder than the last, or perhaps easier? He didn’t know, but he tried to brave through it.

On his way out, he caught Sceptile and Steenee exchanging a wink. They were in cahoots? He pouted lightly, but couldn’t hold it against them. He’d already let his first chance slip by when Atlas came and left. And they helped him find another. He didn’t have it in him to waste this one too.