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Interlude 1: Stories of Elysium - Kael the Sunsinger
"Let me tell you of the founding myths, of golden rays of sunlight."

The table is set for iced tea and snacks. Instead of cookies, Winterberries sit in bowls with small forks. They're as sweet as can be, despite the warmer weather of the last few months. Cubes of ice sit in the cups.

"Grandmother, is this story boring?" a young girl asks. Her grandmother gives a simple smile, and though there are so many other things to do, today the young girl decides to sit with her grandmother and listen to a story she wants to tell.

"Long ago—" she begins.

"When you were a child?"

"Longer, even," the grandmother says. She said it so casually. What could be longer than the life of her grandma? "A thousand years, perhaps longer. And even then, the exact time has been lost."

"How do you lose time?" the girl asks, crossing her arms. The grandmother laughs.

"Do you remember the day you took your first steps?" the grandmother asks in return. The girl thinks, and thinks, and thinks—but nothing comes to mind. She shakes her head, and the grandmother nods. "Sometimes, things are just forgotten. Time is lost."

The girl nods in return. Of course, that makes sense. "So back then, what happened?"

"Back then, there was no Kingdom of Gildera. And no Empire of Sol."

That rouses the interest of the girl quickly. The things she always knew? Not yet created?

"Back then, the first emperor did not set out to create an empire at all," the grandmother explained. "Kael the Sunsinger was a warrior in what we used to call Elysium. The continent held no borders, people were free to do as they pleased. Unfortunately, this also meant that those stronger than others could impose their wills on those weaker than them.."

The girl takes a sip from the tea, pretending to know what 'impose' means in the context of that explanation. She raises her head, with all the dignity she has as her grandmother reaches over and wipes the tea from her cheek. "Impose, of course."

"From the west of their lands, there was a great and terrible Union. A group of people who had pooled their resources and men together in an attempt to take over the continent."

"But grandmother," the girl says. "Are we not west of the empire?"

The grandmother said nothing, continuing as if the question had never been asked.

"Kael gathered his own group to fight back. Many heroes were born in those ages. Inana, who is said to have come from the moon. Aenya, who they say came from the future. Daron, who could cure any wound. Those four built an army that could rival the Union. One day, before a fateful battle, they gathered together on the hills that have become the mountains that surround us."

"Hills that become mountains," the girl says, failing to keep the awe out of her voice. "Like I will grow taller than my father, right?"

The grandmother raises her hand, giving the girl a pat on the head. "That will take a while, you have to eat more than fruit and iced tea if you want to achieve that."

The girl pouts, but continues to listen.

"Kael and his Charizard sat on that hill, finding the flags of the Union gathering in the distance. So far, despite their resolution, Kael's army failed to win any major battles. The Union was strong, and it was growing stronger still as it took what it conquered. The people suffered, but their leaders didn't care."

"That's not too different, is it?" the girl whispered. "Nobles who don't care about their people?"

"A people without a king remain a people still," the grandmother says. "But a king without people rules nothing but hills. Though that much is true now as it was all those centuries ago, bottomless greed is in the nature of man."

The girl didn't have the vocabulary to disagree. That it's quite clear to her that people can be better than that. That greed is not nature, but a flaw in those whose hearts are too small. That when she has a treat, she will always share it with her brother.

"What exactly happened in that battle, we don't know," the grandmother continues. "But we know how it ended. Kael was facing the commander of the Union, whose name is no longer known. The Dread King was supported by a powerful deity, whose darkness spread over the battlefield and helped his armies by blinding only those it was facing. So Kael cried out to the heavens."

The girl shuffles forward on her chair, sitting on the edge as she leans over. "And? What happened?"

"Heaven responded. In seconds, the darkness was gone. Though Kael has lost most of his comrades in arms, hope was beginning to spread. From the sky descended the guardian of Sol, whose head is now on every banner in the Empire."

"Solgaleo!" the girl shouts, her hands hitting the table. She spills some of the tea, but doesn't notice even as her grandmother tells the maids to leave it. "The guardian of Sol, that's it, right?!"

"Indeed," the grandmother says, handing the girl a handkerchief. The girl obliges, taking it and cleaning the spilled tea off the table. "Solgaleo appeared in a flash of light, and the battle stopped. The Dread King tried to fight, but his power left him, the sunlight burning away his darkness and Kael took the time to negotiate."

"I didn't think you could negotiate with gods."

"Well, most people can't. But sometimes, people have a certain disposition. The content of their character makes the gods more inclined to hear one out. So Solgaleo listened. 'If I die here today, I will do it unbowed', he declared. 'But if it is not yet my time to die, O Starlight Eating Sun God, then hear out my plea.'"

"And it listened?"

"It did," the grandmother says, nodding. "He raised his sword to the sun and continued. 'I will protect everything the sun touches. From here, to the furthest reaches of the continent. Be it human, Pokemon, or the trees and flowers that give these lands their life.'"

The girl goes still. Her breath hitching in her throat as she imagines the scene in her mind. Her grandmother continues without any break.

"'So let my blood be your blood,'" Kael shouted. "'And let your lands be my lands. So that the bloodshed may end. So that my people know peace.'"

Solgaleo roars, its forehead touching the man's hand. The sword in his hand glows as bright as the sun.


"So then the newborn king carved the sunlight into the ground, creating the first border of Sol," the grandmother says. "The hills became mountains, and the Union army was banished from Sol by the Sun."

The girl frowns, and her grandmother stops for a moment.

"Is something the matter?"

"He became king to protect them," the girl asks. "But didn't he do the same thing as the Union would have? Suddenly, he's a noble ruler, and they're his subjects?"

"That's one way to interpret it, certainly," the grandmother says. "Perhaps to some there was no difference, but stories never tell the whole truth."

"So maybe he wasn't made king by Solgaleo?"

"Maybe not. Maybe the people made him king because he protected them. Maybe there was no one who wanted to fight him for it."

The frown does not vanish, but it does soften slightly.

"So why are you telling me about Sol, and not Gildera?" the girl asks. "It's where we live."

"You cannot tell the story of Gildera without telling the story of Sol," her grandmother says. "Next time we meet in this garden, I have another story for you."

"It better not be boring," the girl says, standing up. She can barely look over the table when she's not sitting on the high chair. "Or else I'll fall asleep!"

Her grandmother laughs, one hand reaching out to pat the girl's hair down.

###

Stories of Elysium:

K is for Kael — who sundered the earth.

It was during that summer ten years after my dear friend, the young poet of Thebes, had passed. In searching for meaning, I found faith. Not my own, but that of others.

I asked how do you know that the Gods can hear you? That your prayers reach their ears? That your soul will find that kingdom and live in harmony with the spirits of your ancestors?

And they pointed at the sun.

"My friend, why do you weep?" The young poet once asked me. He looked pale and broken, from a life well lived. "I will be with Atlas, the shield in front of you. My teeth will cut the throat of the Starscourge, my eyes will shine like distant suns."

"None will mourn you," I said, "not the elders of your village, or the men of the mountains and hills. The land will not know your name, nor will any beast or flower shriek as if they were your mother."

"Must I be mourned?" he asked, his head tilting from one side to the other, his hands intertwining in mine. "Must we strive to be known, so that the riverbanks we used to stroll know our feet will never touch them again?"

I could not answer him. I always feared death myself, feared the unknown. I feared so much that the mere thought froze my limbs and heart, that one day people would no longer know my name. I decided to become someone who could not be forgotten.

I decided to sing of the sun.

The Sunsinger:

Art by me, as always :V
 
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At last, I have time set aside to really sink my teeth into the conclusion of our prologue, Rebellion.

This is sure to be a doozy.

— you wake up with a start and pain all over your body. You grip your sword tightly, brandishing it in fright and fury.

"You're bleeding!" Your vision blurs with tears and frustration. Your hands are drenched in warm blood. The wound is too deep. Too wide. Too much for a child.

"Aria," he says, his shaking hands gripping your shoulders tightly. "Run, Aria!"

He shoves you. The cliff is steep, but your body endures.


The sword in your hand is pointed at the throat of—a Murkrow? You shake your head, trying to clear up the grogginess and failing miserably. The Murkrow raises its wings in surrender, and a trio of squawks behind it make you tense.

"Ah," you say, lowering the sword. You look around you. A clearing, from the sun's position and the density of trees a decent way away from the Caer. "It's you."

. Man.

Right back to where she started.

Carrying a sword of all her losses after a long fall.

The fact we're back to THESE Murkrow is fucking, incredible turnaround.

Zack...

The wind has grown strong in the time you've been unconscious, though from the position of the sun between barren branches not that much time has passed. You know these woods, and somehow you don't think you've ever seen them as they are now.

The trees are cold with the weight of winter. Wildlife has retreated, only the strongest and most desperate Pokemon would still be out and about.

You stand up. Your body aches, but nothing is broken. Even your leg, which had just healed, is not disappointing you as you stab the sword into the ground and use it for leverage. The surrendering Murkrow caws, tilting its head. They don't seem like they're out for a fight today, so that's good.

The world has gotten just a little less hopeful for Aria. Less warm. Less alive.

In that sense, it's almost ironic that her body hasn't quite betrayed her, and the once petty enemy isn't looking to do her harm.

Typhon, it would seem, had a better idea on how to cast this girl to safety than her bleeding preteen brother.

You do a quick check up on yourself. All limbs are there and there's no obvious bleeding anywhere. Your shield is gone, likely blown off by Typhon's angry wind. At least you have a weapon.

The leader Murkrow salutes. It looks up at you, and there is… worry? Concern? Pity. Any of these three or maybe a combination of them. The pain distracts you from any attempt to really understand, and you find yourself clutching your head once. You can't say you know what it feels like to have a nail driven up your eyeball, but this must be pretty close.

"Fuck," you say. The Murkrow looks horrified for a moment, then the concern takes over its expression again. "Sorry, I need… I need to hide."

UGH. THIS IS LIKE. SO SAD.

Murkrow tilts its head, looking at the rest of the tree. Your words are true, there is enough to feed a dozen of you. The tree is tall, the fruit ripe, and you all are more than happy to share—

"Right?" you ask again, trying to smile and failing when you see the expression on the Murkrow's face turn mischievous. "Aw, Ffff-fennekin."

This Murkrow knows Aria tries to hold back her cursing so much she can't even match up to a baby goat's mouth and now...

...I wonder if Murkrow is gonna be one of Aria's pokemon team? Like this might just be a normal "yesterday's enemy has proven to be a sincere source of kindness in a world gone mad" but it's interesting that the narrative has gone to the effort of emphasizing Aria's history with this Murkrow specifically instead of the whole four mon band—But I'm getting ahead of myself.

You cannot go back. You cannot show your face in the Caer again, not until you find enough evidence to prove your innocence, if that is even possible now that the scene of the crime itself has been blown apart. If not, then you have to find the responsible party. Rivenhold is the least of your worries, considering you're still in the Duke's territory, and even if you leave once your name and face are reported to other peacekeepers you might end up finding yourself a fugitive in all of Gildera.

The responsible party…

That might be hard considering the long list of enemies the Duke, the Order, and Drake himself had.

The connection you have with Skiddle will survive this, you are certain. Perhaps she will come look for you, though…

You grab the ball from your waist. It's cracked, open on one spot. The fall must've broken it. No matter how solid something is, enough pressure will cause strain, and enough strain will lead to the end of all things. Even if you can't right now, until you meet again you know that Ruby and the others will take care of her.

You shake your head. This isn't the time to think about could have been and would have been, there's only one way for you right now and that is forward. You can contact Capella, Lissy, and Ruby later.

You can hold a proper funeral for Drake later.

Aria is like hyper practical even in the face of immeasurable grief, which certainly doesn't speak of pain and loss being so embedded in her that it's more her default state of being than not, no sir.

The connection you have with Skiddle will survive this, you are certain. Perhaps she will come look for you, though…

You grab the ball from your waist. It's cracked, open on one spot. The fall must've broken it. No matter how solid something is, enough pressure will cause strain, and enough strain will lead to the end of all things.

EXTREMELY normal moment in thinking about the fragile futility of considering her relationships eternal.

The letter burns a hole through your pocket. If it's not the target, then why was Drake killed? What purpose could his death serve, a commander who has not fought in a war in well over two decades? Demoralizing the Duke's forces? Ambitions of promotion among the captains? You know most of them, you know Silvia and Redwood would never do it, or at least… at least you think you know them.

Considering the guardsman who so callously attempted to kill you once he 'stumbled' on the assassination, perhaps the apparatus of the Order as a whole is rotten. Such is the way of nobility, and the way of groups that grow too large. In his attempt to create the largest army in Gildera, the Duke let malcontents fester.

But Duke van Kesteren is a fair and impartial man, according to Drake.

Aria is like super specced for Ye Ole Medieval Knight Noir, she's thinking about the Point and the Implications and the Surrounding Factors.

Of course, well...

"There is a letter that must arrive," he says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "Too important for Carrier-Pidgeys."

"You honor me." Too important to be intercepted, but not important enough to send with a proper knight? A feeling spreads in your gut.

The unspoken truth is not well hidden: you are a nobody, and nobody will wonder if you might carry something important with you. You raise your head when he pushes against you, forcing the deep bow to end. His eyes reflect the morning sun.

I feel like, as it often does, things come back to "Aria sure does think she's less relevant to the grand scheme of things than she is."

So maybe if you can meet him, you can make your case. Cast doubt on the stories that will be spreading among the knights now. You look down on the blood that has tainted most of what used to be blue and white into red and brown. The coat around your shoulders does little to truly keep the cold away, you will need shelter soon. The closest village is… too dangerous to approach. You have to go another way.

To Marchioness Reichert.

"Maybe the Duke will give me the benefit of the doubt" [Looks on the bloodstains that bury the uniform meant to represent his colors, because subtlety is for COWARDS]

The border is not far, and compared to certain death the Spectrier Guard might at least arrest you and hear you out before execution or extradition.

[ ] It's an opportunity.
While dangerous, it's the best way to avoid freezing to death or starving while trying to hide out in the woods. They will no doubt tear apart in search of you.

[ ] It's too dangerous.
You don't know who you can trust. Though Redwood's words about the loyalty of the Dukes still echo in your mind, who's to say the Spectrier Guard wasn't responsible for the assassination?

Oh this is a rly rly interesting choice, should Aria offer trust to the Glastrier Knights' counterparts? Is it closing her off from allies, or preserving her consul against enemies? Hm...

While the western border is protected by steep and dangerous mountains, and thus requires no real presence, the kingdom as a whole requires a policing force. The Royal Knights protect only the capital and the royal family, and so the rest of the country that is not under the protection of the Glastrier Order or the Spectrier Border Guard, has to deal with the joyful faces of those blackguards.
"So the Emperor's love for his late wife stays his hand at the border, because her sister reigns there—"

I think there's something interesting to keep in mind. The Spectrier Guard is, in essence, the Border Patrol (I kinda wish that was their name, since it's kinda awkward that it and the Calyrex guys are like, Guards, leaves the Order the odd ones out, all asymmetrical), and the border is explicitly Reichert's domain.

While Ruby has done well to emphasize that the military apparatuses of a territory don't always fall in line with the nobility holding their reigns, I think there's an obvious benefit to confirming how much that stands with Marchioness Reichert and the Spectrier Guard ahead of time, since whatever the answer ends up, this is likely to speedrun Aria's commute to the border just by taking to her base for the interrogation

[X] It's an opportunity.
While dangerous, it's the best way to avoid freezing to death or starving while trying to hide out in the woods. They will no doubt tear apart in search of you.

Plus, maybe just a little don't want to overly encourage Aria's omnidirectional paranoia. Maybe just a bit.

Your fist clenches over the sword once more. Today isn't the day you can make a decision on this, for now you need a place to hide. A place for shelter. A place to dry that frozen blood off your clothes.

"Hey, err, Murkrow?" you say. The leader crosses its wings, the others follow suit. "This is gonna be hard, can I give you a name for the time being?"

Leader Murkrow salutes, and you think for a moment. It's not easy to come up with a name, but it's not like this one is your partner so you don't need to be creative or deep. Murkle? You shake your head. A female Murkrow, hmmm…

"Thalia," you say. Lissy's book comes to mind. One of the many names in it. Having one name to call is already better than having none. Thalia salutes once more, tilting her head.

"Thalia, Squadkrows," you say, your voice low. "I need help, I know we got off the wrong foot before but I really can't afford to be caught now."

. Oh my god.

Aria you are SO stupid I fucking love you.

"I don't have to think too hard for this name" [Calls Murkrow a legendary figure instead of something as stupid as Murkle]

You know I was saying that it seems like this bird is going to be the new member of Aria's team? And I stand by that, because dear god.

Can you imagine.

Aria: Hey guys, meet Thalia, yeah, I know that name's more bland than I would usually go with, but we accidentally got attached.
Lissy, who has a Special Interest about the legendary figures she pulled this name from: ...What would you have picked otherwise?
Aria: ...
Lissy: Hey Aria. Aria. What would you have picked otherwise.
Aria: Oh well would you look at the time—
Lissy: ARIA YOU GET BACK HERE.

Jesus though. Squadkrows.

Girl can lose her adoptive father and all faith in a nation but we STAY silly.

They look at each other, then to Thalia. Thalia caws, then salutes once again, flying up to your shoulder. She points with her beak, and you try to contain the relief in your chest. You can't let your guard down. The woods are dangerous when the snow is so thick. If Typhon was truly trying to help you, you wish he had the decency to send you somewhere warmer.

Drake would laugh and say Typhon never misses.

Ough.

THE FACT OLD RIVALS BECOME NEW FRIENDS, EVEN UNDER A SKY THAT FEELS LIKE A CAGE ONCE MORE.

Aria's love for Drake is keeping his memory alive...

Glad that now that the heat of the moment has passed she's like "I mean it does seem like the angry dragon was helping" which actually makes the next line so hurtful. Like did they spend time together before this. Is the last time Aria ever going to see Typhon a painful storm of grief where he had to toss her aside instead of finding comfort with the only other person who loved his partner as much?

Anyway. Sure. Totally. Definitely not gonna end up a partner when Thalia has already taken the prime spot on your shoulder Aria.

The winds pick up, white and brown in front of your eyes as even the winterproof trees lose their crowns, leaving only the pines to wear green and blue. The Murkrows try to help, two of them creating gusts of wind with their wings to clear the snow in front of you. Another is flying ahead, checking around and turning your direction with Thalia whenever it spots something in the way.

"I am Aria," you introduce yourself, remembering that you've never done so properly before. "I used to live in the Caer nearby."

Thalia caws.

"Yeah, it's not that much of a home anymore."

The way Aria just has these dumb conversations with pokemon is so funny and. Fucking tragic.

They're making introductions. Aria is acknowledging that she feels fine, but there's a darkness growing in her.

Love how the Murkrow (Squadkrows...Snrk) are like, RTS units, whole fucking snowplow force, this is like really solid appreciation of how fucking elementally convenient pokemon are as a counterforce to nature.

What does that say about you? To be so quick to lose that attachment to the place. Well, it's not that the place was what was important to you. It was Drake, it was Capella.

It is Capella, and Lissy, and Ruby.

Thalia caws again, pecking your head. You wave towards her, stopping her vicious assault. "Ow, okay, no distractions! I get it!"

LOL.

[Warding off bird noogies] "Bro, bro I'm having a moment, bro I've having my shounen resolve flashback, come on."

Every pokemon who spends two minutes with Aria decides they have to torment her so she doesn't get lost in internal monologues.

[ ] You are Aria, Pathstriding.
The Order was never your home. Drake and Capella were, Lissy and Ruby were. The world is larger, more complicated than a single Duchy. To find the truth that hides in the winds of war, your feet must touch unknown ground.

I appreciate that Aria's quoting the Pathstriding vote here, like even if it didn't win, all the vote options remain emotionally important points to her.

You grit your teeth as the way continues. The wind keeps picking up, it feels unnatural to have such a strong storm when the weather this morning was so clear. Typhon might have something to do with it. Whether that unmatched grief was responsible or he tried to cover your tracks, you can't say. Either way, the wind becomes too much for your eyes, and you end up closing them, trusting Thalia to lead the way by pulling into the right direction.

Ouuuuuuuuugh, the way Typhon's winds hound her, so powerful is the grief of a dragon who has to keep his lost partner's ward alive.

You can smell flowers in the distance, but as you turn around, there is no sight of Skiddle. Thalia's caws get louder, more encouraging. You take one step, and then another. You are the one who walks, and all that is left behind finds itself erased by the snow.

But finally, you reach your goal.

Descriptions that hit INSANE.

Skiddle...Are you following so fast?

The cave can barely be called one. It's a hole in the ground that leads into what looks like a nest of a Pokemon that hasn't been here in a long time. For a moment you wonder if the Murkrows led you into a trap, but Thalia was the first to enter. It's not warm, but it's certainly warmer.

One of the Squadkrows leads you further in. There's no fire, no wood, nothing dry enough to use any of those stupid survival skills you've spent so many years learning about. You're too tired, and too hurt, and too distracted. You end up having to bend down, crouching half of the way to the deepest part of the cave.

"Thank you," you manage to say, your voice echoing. Thalia caws softly. You find yourself comforted, and while you can't tell what they're saying at all, you know they're good Pokemon, if a bit mischievous and prone to pranks.

While Thalia nuzzles up against you, the other Murkrow are blanketing you in leaves and twigs. It gets warmer, and though the pain remains you find yourself drifting off to sleep.

UGH.

Getting to meeeeeeeeeeee.

Aria letting herself open her wounded heart to pokemon...Love how between all the fucked up political vendettas and class abuse ABfI still remembers that it's a Pokemon fic.

You are a rebellious young lady. You sometimes stay awake longer than you are allowed, reading a book, or run through the halls even when you should walk. There is little you cannot do, because even if you're caught, her grandmother simply smiles and says to do better next time.

Never let perfect get in the way of good enough.

Ah. Fuck.

We're back in flashback town again.

"her grandmother"? Not "your grandmother"?

Messed up how Aria's "grand rebellions" are just being an overactive kid who's loved by her granny.

Unfortunately perfect is exactly what your mother always wants from you. Hair has to be braided just right, the dress has to fit, your steps must be immaculate. You're no princess, you're no queen, you're no empress, so why is she expecting you to be better than everyone else?

Why do the other noble girls get to wear normal shoes and dresses without any tightness around their waists? Why do you have to learn how to dance to every song?

At least dancing is fun. Zack tries to make it fun, and you play along, even if your teacher starts getting frustrated.

...Okay I'm putting aside my "I really don't like you" about Marchioness Flamberg for a sec, what is like.

You're no princess, you're no queen, you're no empress, so why is she expecting you to be better than everyone else?

Like you're saying this so blatantly now Elpis, can we put aside the charade now? Can we just say Aria is Isabella's daughter now? I've been thinking that, I'm pretty sure everyone has, like it's being signaled Super Hard with how her "mom" is trying to shape her into this utter exemplar of high breeding and sophistication.

Man why were all her teachers full of shit. Do you think if Aria could do it all over, she'd still accept living with the Flambergs to have Zack as a brother?

Today is a waltz of some kind, with music that is kinda fast, from a composer that used to be unknown until he died. Zack follows your lead, as you're the one who has memorized the steps already.

On the second repeat of the same dumb twirl, Zack loses track of where his feet should be and ends up stepping on yours. You wince, and he quickly moves to apologize.

"Ah," he says, putting on a voice like your mother, "my dear lady, I am inconsolable, can you forgive me this one time?"

You snort, the most unladylike sounds leaving your throat as you find yourself keeling over in laughter. He starts laughing as well, and the music stops for a moment. You both look at your teacher, Lady Niobe, the daughter of a provincial count that has been trying to curry favor with your family.

She does not look happy. So you give it your all, and cough before reaching out to Zack again. He takes your hand, and the music continues.

Until, for the third time, he steps on your feet.

"You're a terrible dancer," you say. Zack laughs, then grabs you by the belly and lifts you up. You can't help but laugh as he spins you around. The music stops, but he doesn't, even as Lady Niobe coughs impolitely into her fan to stop the dance. He does get dizzy, and you find yourself sprawled on the ground on top of him, still laughing to the point you start having a hiccup.

THIS DUMBASS LOVES HERRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!

Nothing hurts me more than the fact people can see this kind of earnest affection and decide with their cold dead hearts that that's a Problem.

Aria and Zack have such a. Pinky and the Brain thing. She's just the smarter one. They both know this.

"Young lord," Lady Niobe says, her lips still hidden by the fan. "It might be more appropriate to work within the confines of my lessons if we want to get you ready for the prime minister's ball."

He is still laughing as he gets up, taking your hand and helping you get back on your feet.

"I think if the prime minister expects a twelve year old to dance perfectly at a ball with no other children, his expectations are too high," Zack counters. "How much time do we have today?"

"There is still an hour left," Lady Niobe answers. "So unless you want to practice under the Marchioness' gaze, please let us—"

You hiccup. It comes out very loud for some reason, and Lady Niobe looks more annoyed than before. Her behavior towards you has always been different. The adopted child is clearly not a true noble, she must be thinking. With skin that cannot be from Gildera and eyes that don't belong to the Flambergs, why must I show her respect?

I love how Gilderan nobility keeps finding ways to be classist without being racist.

Well I don't love that, no, but I do think it's good worldbuilding and way to emphasize the specific brand of turbo fuckhead to have it always come through like "I can forgive being biracial, but I can't forgive being a pleb" "You have to forgive being biracial???"

The way that. Aria's mom kept exposing her to bad people who treat her bad. I don't like her.

Zaaaaaaaaaaaack why do grownass women keep forcing you to be the only one in the room who knows how to treat little girls?

Well, two can play that game. Zack's hand is still in yours. You turn around, and run—

Zack follows, pearls of laughter echoing through the hallways of the estate.

Lady Niobe doesn't even try to run after you. She knows that once word of this reaches your mother, you will be punished. Lately, though, her punishments have decreased. Even when she feels forced to educate you properly, her whip has moved from your fingers to your back.

What scars you had on your hands were even taken care of with some fancy medicine she clearly always had available, slowly letting them fade.

At first, you hoped it was her having a change of heart, but something else must be going on.

People do not change that easily.

. What the fuck do you mean whipping your back is a DECREASE?

I hate her. I DESPISE this woman.

So when you come across your father's office, and the door is not properly closed after a servant must have brought him tea, you go to close it lest that servant faces punishment. Zack follows you, sneaking slowly toward the door like you're on a secret mission.

You hiccup again, and Zack slaps his hand over your mouth all of the sudden. Your mother's voice comes out of the room, high-pitched and joyful.

"This is perfect, don't you see?" she says. You turn your head slightly, looking into the room. The office is well-kept and has little actual interior. A couch, a chair, a table. At the wall are hundreds of books, and in a corner a small potted plant with some flowers. "Your mother gave us the greatest gift."

You flinch at the thought of your grandmother ever giving your mother anything to be happy about. These two were diametrically opposed on practically every single issue.

"The people would speak," he said, though the objection in his voice is meek and lacks any conviction. "Such a thing is outdated, Marchioness."

"It is outdated, not outlawed, my dear," she says, speaking the affectionate nickname with poison on her tongue. It's so strange. You don't remember her being this bad when you were much younger. So why… "Your mother demanded we adopt her, some unknown child of unknown heritage!"

"Except she's neither, is she?" He waves a letter in his hands. It's too far to make out any text. "If anyone finds out that we knew, death will be the least of our worries!"

"And nobody has to know," the Marchioness waves her hand, dismissing his concerns. "She is still young, she listens to her parents. They don't have to marry right away, but if we have them engaged with the blessing of the king, even he won't be able to lift a hand."

"Engaged?" Zack whispers, his eyes moving toward you. Your hand grips his, your nails digging into his skin. You try to loosen up when you notice, but he pulls on your hand to stop you from moving. "Who'd they even—"

"Zack won't play along." Your father's words are more quiet now. As if he knows that your mother can convince him of anything. "They're not that young, and they're not that uneducated."

"They're not that old either," she says. "We are their parents, the only people they can rely on. When we tell them to do something, they will have to do it. That is what family means."

You shake your head. You're not surprised. Why would you be? This is exactly the kind of person she has always been, your grandmother simply stopped her from escalating to this point. Marriage? You've just celebrated your 11th birthday. She must be out of her mind.

"The House of Flamberg will be greater than ever before," she says, her voice rising. "All you have to do is to stamp this letter, and by this time next week we will have the prime minister calling on us for the king's blessing."

"At the cost of our children's happiness?"

"With enough power, happiness will follow."

The man shakes his head, but despite that, his hand still grabs that wax. His fingers still trace that seal on the table.

Zack grabs you by the arm and pulls you away from the door. You run. Because that is what he tells you to do.

You notice a single thing— a single moment that will sit in your heart forever— not once in that conversation did they say your name.

. This is a LOT.

Marchioness Flamberg is a bad person. And Marquess Flamberg is, less, but he's also a moral coward.

...I mean. Aside from the likelihood that him being such a beaten dog is, less than a metaphor, with all the OTHER domestic abuse going on here.

"They're not that young" "They're not that old either" this woman is the most disgusting human being we're seen in this quest and we've literally had a fistfight with a guy who tortured a bear cub.

When we tell them to do something, they will have to do it. That is what family means.
Zack grabs you by the arm and pulls you away from the door. You run. Because that is what he tells you to do.

This is the most hurtful thing ever.

THE WAY THIS IS LITERALLY ABOUT ARIA'S REAL HERITAGE. AND THE PEOPLE HER GRANDMA EXPECTED TO TAKE CARE OF HER TRIED TO PAWN HER OFF THE MOMENT THEY FOUND OUT. OBSCENE.

Your eyes open to the sight of stone. The cave you've crawled into made for a miserable place to lie in, but the storm outside must have subsided. Thalia stirs next to you, cawing softly as you shake her awake. "I have to leave."

Your words are accompanied by a growling in your stomach. The hunger comes, the rations you have will likely keep you going, though your appetite leaves you as you think about Ruby and Lissy. About Redwood and Silvia hearing about your alleged crime.

You look down and in between the twigs and leaves that they put on you to keep you warm, there are large berries. You grab those you know humans can't digest and put them aside, slowly shuffling out of the crevice and finding yourself sitting next to the entrance, biting down on a bitter fruit that takes all the grogginess away from you.

It's night. Your clothes are dry, and the wind no longer promises pain. The clothes on your back should be enough to carry you to your goal, if you can even make it there. The Murkrows have helped you so much, but you can't keep relying on them and take them into danger with you.

Hurty.

Little beepo thinking she has to go it alone in this world...

Thalia wakes up and approaches the entrance as well, looking at you. You hand over one of the berries and watch as she devours it whole. "Thank you, Thalia."

Thalia shrugs her wings, scoffing softly. Somehow, you feel without the exhaustion there's a better understanding between the two of you. 'There's no need to thank me,' she seems to say.

"You didn't have to help me, if anything we were enemies, right?"

Thalia shrugs again. 'Why would we be enemies?'

"I guess you're right," you whisper. "Just because one has a fight doesn't mean there can't be any friendship born from that."

You remember reading about it once before. The Professor of the Tower wrote a thesis on Pokemon and their desire to show off their prowess, with those that lose a fight growing to respect the winner. It's one of his three great theses that open up on the Imperial Pokemon Index your father used to have in his library.

This is fr like. Love the affection here. Even if everything is darkness and murder and child marriage, Pokemon is still Pokemon.

Also Professor of the Tower??? Why does that have a tangible boss health bar.

"I guess you don't want to come with me, do you?" you ask. Thalia shakes her head. She points at the rest of the squad that's still lying asleep in the cave. Then she points at herself. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Still, if I'm ever around again, we can share some berries."

Thalia caws, then salutes you one last time as you stand up. You hope you can return. To get Skiddle back, to give your friends hugs and apologize. To stand in front of that guardsman and cut his head off.

Ahhhh, but of course, Thalia loves her Squadkrows too much to—

To stand in front of that guardsman and cut his head off.

Jesus???

Damn girl. I uh. Guess you're channeling some feelings in a normal way!

Amidst the love and yearning and accepting that sharing kindness with pokemon doesn't mean they don't have a life they wouldn't journey away from, we're reminded that Aria Would Like To Kill.

Regardless of your destination, you have to regain your bearings and navigate through the snow. So you move, every step taking you further away from the Caer.

"A is for Atlas," you whisper to yourself, taking a step forward. And so it continues. B is for Bellerophon, who dethroned a god. C is for the Cyclops, who defied his father.

Every step is another letter, and every letter is another goodbye.

The start of a long march on the road of legends...

The attack comes when you least expect it. Just as you pass between two trees and the sight of a large road becomes real. The wind whipping up behind you makes you duck, your own hand moving to your sword. You lack the shield, the half that makes defense so much easier, but you are by no means someone who would be stopped by this.

You roll into the snow, your cloak keeping most of it away from your still cold body. You shake any of it from your head as you stand up quickly, turning around to find—Capella.

OKAY THE MARCH STOPS SHORT JESUS.

I didn't think Capella Interrupt would happen this soon!

...I wonder if the theories I have are gonna get confirmed this fast!

She looks like a ghost. Her skin, always pale, has taken on the color of the snow. Her lips are pink and blue, her hair frazzled and pointing into every direction instead of braided like usual.

In your eyes, she looks like a fairy. Ethereal, unreal, ready to vanish at a glance, as if a soft wind could shatter her skin like ice and carry what is left of her into the sky. Your grip loosens, but the sword in the tree tells you she is not here to talk.

I see that the Toxic Yuri Murder Fight is happening already! Like really fast! Like "I thought this was gonna be Arc 7" fast!

Capella: [Looking like hell froze over]
Aria: I'm feeling something. Something I don't know how to describe. "Scary but pretty" is close, but not quite it.

"Capella," you say, raising your free hand. "Whatever they told you, it's not true."

"They told me Drake is dead," she says. Her voice sounds off. Like the cadence has been lost to anger to the point that all that remains is nihility. "They told me you're running, his blood on your hands."

All that is true, and yet could not be further from it. You look down on yourself, the dried blood makes you nauseous.

"You have to listen," you say. She can't be calmed down, because there is no emotion in her that could be placated by words. You try to speak again, but she does not let you. She's so fast, so much faster than you can react. Even if you weren't half-frozen, there is no doubt in your mind that you can't even come close to it. The shield in her hand is thrown at you, and you block it with your sword before she slides over the snow and kicks your leg out from under you.

You raise your blade to block hers as it comes down on you. The sky is so bright, and Capella shines even brighter.

STANDING HERE, I REALIZE, YOU WERE JUST LIKE ME, TRYING TO MAKE—

Capella is handling the breakup SO well so totally well and normal and not Patricidal.

Aria can you maybe not start mooning over Capella when she's in the process of stabbing you. Please.

"You always run when there's trouble," Capella says. You can see the tears in her eyes freezing as they travel down her cheeks. "But you never come to me for help."

You don't know what to say to that, so you say nothing—no, screw that.

"It's because I run from everything," you say, pushing against her. She has the high ground, but you have the fury that she lacks. "Because I never face anything head on, because I always relied on you and Drake that I don't know what to do!"

You push her off, rolling through the snow to regain your footing and taking your sword into both hands. You think of your brother, of the way he swung his sword to defend those who could not defend themselves.

You think about running.

But today you will not.

YooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

The way Aria is made of EVERYONE she ever loved.

"You always run when there's trouble," Capella says. You can see the tears in her eyes freezing as they travel down her cheeks. "But you never come to me for help."

Capella can you please not say that like "I would've helped you get away with murdering our dad", I know that's exactly what you mean and you're every kind of emotionally damaged to explain that reaction but come on.

"I can't keep relying on you to make things right, Capella," you say, squaring your shoulders. "Because this isn't something you can make right. The Order is rotten! The guards knew about his death!"

"But why did you run from me?" her voice breaks at the end, and you can't help but wipe at your eyes as you notice them wet with tears. What she lacks in anger, she makes up in sadness. "Drake is gone, everyone thinks you did it—"

"But I didn't!" you insist again, and again she chokes out a sob.

"I know!" Her shout startles the wildlife around you. "But if you're gone, they'll assume you're guilty anyway. Aria, you have to come back with me!"

She raises her hand toward you. You find your feet take you forward, your hand reaching back.

You know that nobody will believe you. You know that before you find yourself facing a court, you will face a blade. You know that Capella will do anything to keep you safe, and in the end she will be at your side, even in—even in death.

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. The letter in your pocket feels so, so heavy.

I cannot fucking BELIEVE Capella tried to alpha strike Aria out of like "I need to put her ass down to bring her back" she's sooooooo deranged, insanely huge fan about this entirely demented green girl.

You know that Capella will do anything to keep you safe, and in the end she will be at your side, even in—even in death.

Girl who's so normal about her dead brother and her soon to be dead. Whatever the hell Capella is to her.

Aria: Til death do us part? No. Parting so she NEVER dies.
Capella: YOU CAN'T SAY THOSE WORDS THAT WAY!!! YOU HAVE TO SAY THEM THE OTHER WAY!!!

You are Aria.

Once, that name had more than four letters.

So—

[ ] … you take Capella's hand.
You cannot let Capella die. She is all you have left. You are all she has left.

[X] … you have to leave.

THIS IS SO FUCKED UP.

TAKE HER WITH YOU YOU MORON!

SHE MIGHT'VE KILLED DRAKE HERSELF AS PART OF SOME INSANE 3D CONSPIRACY BUT LIKE YOU CAN TAKE HER WITH YOU!!!

I love.

The repetition of this phrase.

Can't believe you're ending the first arc on a fakeout vote like this Elpis you're a genius.

You pull your hand back, and Capella recoils from you. It would have been less surprising if you had just struck her. That outstretched hand becomes a fist in front of her chest, and you know that today is not the day your broken bond will be mended.

Some other day, perhaps, in the future.

If you live that long.

Aria you are MASSIVELY fumbling your yandere girlfriend.

You do not know Capella is your girlfriend, nor do you know what the word "yandere" means, but like. Come on.

Feeling many complex emotions because I very much believe in choosing personal agency over clinging to codependent comfort and how Aria herself is a VERY traumatized girl who it'd be senseless to assume is equipped to handle this any better than Capella, but like COME ON you could at least hug her before going "I'm sorry, my planet needs me."

(JK I know Aria isn't hugging Capella because that would make her breakdown sobbing in the snow and she wouldn't be able to walk back from that)

But fr "If you live that long" GIRL YOU ARE SETTING UP THE SCENARIO WERE CAPELLA IS WHY YOU DON'T LIVE THAT LONG HAVE YOU NEVER SEEN SCHOOL DAYS???

. Wait what am I saying she literally doesn't know what the word yandere means, rookie mistake.

...

Hang on.

A cappella means "in chapel or choir style" and refers to a purely vocal performance without instruments.
In music, an aria is a self-contained piece for one voice, with or without instrumental or orchestral accompaniment, normally part of a larger work.

Elpis you doggone son of a bitch.

Aria is a name with multiple meanings and origins, such as "song" in Italian, "lioness" in Greek, and "noble" in Persian.
a star of the first magnitude in Auriga
Latin, literally, she-goat, from caper he-goat
In Greek mythology, Auriga is often identified as the mythological Greek hero Erichthonius of Athens, the chthonic son of Hephaestus who was raised by the goddess Athena. Erichthonius was generally credited to be the inventor of the quadriga, the four-horse chariot, which he used in the battle against the usurper Amphictyon, the event that made Erichthonius the king of Athens. His chariot was created in the image of the Sun's chariot, the reason Zeus placed him in the heavens.

.
.
.

What the FUCK.

THE LIONESS WHO SINGS ALONE.

THE GOAT OF THE SUN-CHARIOT'S CHOIR.

BRO ARIA IS GONNA DROP SOLGALEO ON A MOTHERFUCKER.

What the absolute shit is this Skiddo wasn't even the guaranteed Starter.

"I'm sorry," you say, "but I cannot face them when I don't know who killed Drake. Not when the trial he gave me is still left unfulfilled."

"I'm sorry too," she says. She lunges, and you dodge, like usual. Unlike all the other times, however, she does not stumble over your outstretched foot. She… always knew how to dodge it, didn't she?

You can't help but smile as she jumps over your leg, rolling to pick up her shield on the ground. She raises it as you slam your own sword down, aiming at her arm. Neither of you want to kill each other, neither of you want to die. Neither of you can give an inch.

Unlike the fight with the poacher, you're at a clear disadvantage. Capella is not just better rested than you, despite looking like death frozen over, but also plain better. She was not Lissy's rival in academics, for sure. She moves with a grace and precision that makes you wonder what kind of life she lived with Drake before you came along.

Okay I'm back from the madness of name trickery, Aria, why are you, a woman, so besotted to find out that another woman has been letting you trip her for the past four years in the middle of figh—

Until, for the third time, he steps on your feet.

"You're a terrible dancer," you say. Zack laughs, then grabs you by the belly and lifts you up. You can't help but laugh as he spins you around. The music stops, but he doesn't, even as Lady Niobe coughs impolitely into her fan to stop the dance. He does get dizzy, and you find yourself sprawled on the ground on top of him, still laughing to the point you start having a hiccup.

Wait this sucks I take it back I hate this.

She was not Lissy's rival in academics, for sure.

I love that the way this is framed suggests Lissy is the more intellectual one between them.

The side of her sword bashes against your chest, causing you to cry out in pain. Her knee comes up to kick you in the stomach.

In exchange, you grab that leg and bite into it on the way down. She falls with you, and after a moment of thought you find your own fists raining down on her. She raises her arms, defending her head. When you slow down, too exhausted to keep the barrage going, she kicks you off.

BITING HER?

Okay wow this is devolving incredibly quickly.

You don't know what you're fighting about anymore. Her bringing you back? Your fight about your injuries? About new friendships? About Drake's favoritism?

It's clear when her fist hits you square in the jaw, the emotion behind it is one of melancholic grief. It's clear when your fist slams into the side of her chest, the emotion behind it mirrors the same. It's not the first time you have felt like this, and now you fear you're cursed to repeat this over and over again.

That every time you open yourself up, the gods punish the mere thought that you can be happy.

But you know for this part of your life, no matter how deep this friendship is, you will not see each other again for a good while.

Can you stop being Naruto and Sasuke about this.

Like the Naruto who's also Sasuke, even.

Love it when two people have a fistfight over something that could've just been a divorce hearing.

"Capella," you say, your hand clutching your shoulder as you take a deep breath. "I will… never regret meeting you. Never."

"What the hell are you talking about?" she asks, her sword still in hand. She looks exhausted too, though it bleeds in the way her fingers twitch at every rustling tree. Emotionally, Capella is at the end of the line. Physically, she can probably keep going.

Ghhhsyhyk. The way this is said.

"I'm ready for the tearful goodbyes stage of this encounter" "Bitch I'm about to break your legs, you are NOT leaving."

"If the Skywrath Sovereign came down to ask me," you say, ignoring the taste of iron in your mouth. "If I would change anything about my life, I would say no."

She does not know what to say, so she says nothing. Your words are a long knife. You impale yourself on it to hit her.

. GIRL WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU. ARE YOU GAY???

Homie why. Did you repeat a quip I made some 1k back out loud. When you are literally mauling this girl in the breakup.

Are you gonna confess to Capella like this. Are you gonna drive her insane in a way no one comes back from.

I'm in awe. The mindgames are crazy.

There's nothing that could change the past, and even if you could, what use is there to think about could have been and would have been? What use is the idea that if you had done a thing different, if you had taken a different turn at that burning village, if you had stretched out your hand instead of pulling it away?

. Hey. Hey. HEY. WHAT BURNING VILLAGE. WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING TALKING ABOUT ARIA.

Though you know your heart would break, over and over and over again.

You would still do it all over again. Because that's the kind of person Drake raised you to be.

WHY ARE YOU SUCH A DADDY'S GIRL. STOP THAT. STOP HURTING YOURSELF AND HURTING ME IN THE CROSSFIRE.

"I don't understand you!"

You don't have any energy to answer, so you ball your fist, raising it up. You will make her understand you.

Oh I LOVE Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha.

Two steps forward and a leap. Your fist crashes down on her defense, the shield in her arms sending pain into your knuckles. Despite it, you persevere. She counters with a swing of her sword, once again aiming with the side of the blade to knock the wind out of you. You don't let her, blocking with your arm and ignoring the pain as your elbow snaps toward your ribs.

Your other hand comes up, ready to knock her off her feet.

It fails, of course. She is faster, raising her face to the sky and dodging the uppercut with grace, before copying the move you used against the poacher, slamming her forehead into your face.

You are sent reeling. Step after step backwards, before you finally reach a tree. Your back touches the wood and your legs immediately give out under you. Your nose is bleeding again. Capella was never gentle, but you did expect a bit more decency.

Love that Aria is boxing with someone who has a sword and shield.

And she's losing.

The next noise out of your mouth is laughter. Not mocking laughter, not joyful one, just laughter. In lieu of any other possible words and noises, exchanging exhaustion for mirth, you find yourself laughing. When Capella stabs the sword next to your neck and deep into the tree, the noise grows louder.

And she's laughing.

100% Sane Woman Of All Time.

The fight choreography has been crazy good because you can really really feel that these are two completely deranged and exhausted women.

One of them is better at fighting and the other is more unhinged, and you kinda wouldn't have expected which was which going into this.

"Why are you laughing?" she asks, leaning forward. "I won the fight, you have to come back with me. You should be… angry, upset."

"Because you'll let me go," you say, your hand reaching out to her cheek. "Because you know, Capella, that if you drag me back, I will die."

The truth is a sunrise every time her shoulders quiver at the idea that her hands can no longer reach yours. She puts her forehead against yours, you can feel it throbbing after that headbutt. You can smell the garden you always imagined in her breath. You can feel her heartbeat on your fingertips.

...ARIA WHAT THE FUCK.

You could've gotten rawdogged against this tree and it would've been less horny. Jesus.

Honestly, way better understanding of why Capella is the way she is. Being exposed to this on a daily basis must be a psychological WMD.

She shouts every curse word in her repertoire as she pulls back the sword from your neck, stabbing it next to you instead. A snap follows the belt with Skiddle's Pokeball falling off. She picks it up, turning around. The way she holds her sword, the cape on her back, the bruises on her ungloved hands. She reminds you of Drake, as everything does in these rotten woods.

Even the unfavored child is still the spitting image...

Capella is SO mad holy shit.

I'd be offended that she took Skiddle's pokeball, but like, it's already been said, Skiddle is Hella an Outside Pokemon.

"Promise me," she says. Her voice is small against the biting wind. "Promise me you'll hide until I solve this. Then, when everything is clear, you can come back. We can become the knights Drake wanted us to be."

"I promise," you say, lying to her. Lying to yourself. Nothing will be how it was, even if your name is cleared. Even if the Order is willing to accept you back in. You continue, speaking the one truth you will manifest even if the gods stand in your way. "We'll be together again, Capella."

She does not look at your face to check the truth in your words. Her feet take her forward and away. Towards the Caer, holding the belt with your broken Pokeball as proof of your fight. You reach out, but by the time you find the strength in your feet to chase her, she is long gone.

Today, she is the one who runs.

Capella wants to be lied too...

Aria: I'm the last one standing.
Aria: [Standing alone in the cold woods, beaten into bloody puddle that's frozen along the edges]
Aria: That means I win. [She pumps her fist] Yay.

You know these woods, and you know your way out. Capella can't go with you, because if you're both fugitives there'll be no peace for the rest of your lives.

So let's start over from the beginning, one last time.

You are Aria. Once that name had more than four letters. Once you held the hands of those who are now lost to you, now you hold a sword like a child brandishing a stick.

On the way out of the woods you hear a cry. A terrible, pain-filled expression of grief. And though you, too, want to do nothing but collapse and cry until all those emotions are finally gone, you know one thing that even your distance from Skiddle cannot take away: You cannot ignore someone's plight.

You clench your fist and move forward…

[ ] … with a Knight's Grit.
You smell that garden in the distance as you approach this Pokemon. It looks desperate to be free, willing to make any sacrifice. Its stature is so small, yet you can see the ferocity in each attempt to unchain itself.

[ ] … with a Knight's Cunning.
A shiver runs over your spine as you approach this Pokemon. It vanishes and reappears repeatedly, but unable to phase through the strange net that has caught it. Beads of red glow with power around its neck.

[ ] … with a Knight's Authority.
A sharp sound fills the air as you approach this Pokemon. The air around it freezes, its claws scratching the air around it as it tries to free itself from the trap. It glares at you with sharp red eyes.

INCREDIBLE place to end on, the real second (third) pokemon choice.

Skiddle keeps her moving to help people...

Grit, Cunning and Authority, I love how you frame votes Elpis, though I can't say which I have a stronger passion for, especially since I can't guess—

If this isn't a Mismagius I will be very sad.
This seems to be a Sneasel.
didn't mean to make it too abstract, it's Bounsweet.

Oh! Okay!

[X] … with a Knight's Authority.
A sharp sound fills the air as you approach this Pokemon. The air around it freezes, its claws scratching the air around it as it tries to free itself from the trap. It glares at you with sharp red eyes.


I LOVE Sneasel, and I think for Aria in particular, Ice/Dark is really good as a foil to Skiddo and her Growlithe.

She's so sweet and thoughtful and fiery and loving and cold and brutally violent, great way to tie that together.

So yeah! Incredible work Elpis, fantastic end to Arc 1.

Now, I noticed that Kael's Interlude came out while I was writing this review, but I've been at this for awhile, and another story I follow, Insert Disc 2 (really good insane woman fantasy fiction too, highly recommend to anyone looking for that criteria) updated in the same timeframe, so I gotta do a lotta staring at my calendar before I get to that, but I will say I'm crazy excited!

So, allow me to bring up three things before I close.



Here's a drawing for my bestie's Azula Quest: Arsonist's Lullaby: An Azula Timeloop Quest - you should check it out, I do a buncha art for it too.

The final update of Arc 1 should be out by the end of this week (I have finished it, it just requires some editing by friends before I can post it)

LOVE this piece, Typhlosion is so droopy and this is a great take on a Ghost Fire aesthetic for Azula.

Second, I noticed the character sheet updated!

Aria, the Aspirant Knight
Aria, the Runaway Knight

Art by Me


Your Pokemon and your Skills share the same slot. As one grows in power, the other will too.

They're graded loosely adapted from We Stand In Awe's and But Not Forgotten's skill levels. Everything runs purely on a narrative basis, with your capability in a skill deciding the paths that become available to you rather than rolls which decide their outcomes.



The Flamberg Growlithe
?: ??? the Growlithe: Love. You are someone capable of great empathy and affection.
Skiddle, the Aspirant Knight's Partner
1: Skiddle the Skiddo: Wisdom [Competent]: There are many ways of persuasion. Knowing when to apply the right kind of force, knowing when to ease up, such is the way of a Knight. During lessons, the stories of those generals who set enemies up to fail with strategy and wit were always much more interesting to you. You are Aware. You notice things that you might not usually, you make connections that make no sense sometimes because of details you picked up but might not quite have the context for yet. That's a lot of mights, but you needn't worry. As long as Skiddle is at your side, nothing will escape your sight.

Skiddo isn't the strongest, but she has a nose for things that she shares with you. Somehow, you feel like you can understand others a little better with her around.
??? the ???
See you soon!




Important Characters and Friends

Capella, your precious friend.
Capella is a year younger than you. She has spent a lot of time with Drake before he returned to the Caer after picking you up. She is your best friend. The only one who truly understands you.

Drake, your adoptive father.


The man who took you in. A bald Commander whose name makes many tremble in fear. To you, he's your savior and mentor. His trusty Partner is a Dragonite named Typhon as scarred as him.
Lissy, the Future Legend


A girl who wants to become a hero. She knows all the tales and stories of those who now dwell in the Elysian fields. Her ability to fight in close combat is enough to make even some older knights cower. Her Scraggy is named Perseus.
Ruby, the Mountain Child

A member of the last natives in Western Gildera. They hail from Regis' Pass, a village where the last survivors do not know what their future looks like. Ruby wishes to become a noble to protect their people. Their Bunneary is called Opal.
Silvia, the Lightning Blade

Silvia is a Captain of the Glastrier Order. Despite using a long sword, she is said to be the fastest swordswoman on the continent. Her partner, Bolt, is a Raichu with a darker fur than usual.

Minor Characters and Acquaintances
Redwood, the Scholar
A man who towers over everyone in the Caer. Redwood is a teacher at heart, though his own skill with the blade is not to be taken lightly. His partner is an Ursaluna named Princess. She wears a crown.


The Murkrow Squad of the Northern Woods
See you soon!

Ough. The Runaway Knight.

Very snazzy adjustments, Redwood got his sheet, and the Murkrow Squad have theirs set up too! Very nice.

Third...

You are that girl. The one who yearns for freedom and friendship, who is mourned by the snow under her feet. Where you walk, the sun will follow. Breathe and take in the world one step at a time, even as you run from your past. Become a knight, protect the weak, devour the strong.

Darkness will forever flee from your light.

You are Aria.

Long ago, that name had more than four letters.

I have to say, this is the craziest change to a synopsis I've ever seen.


Especially since you changed the thread icon into this, of all updates. Elpis you madman.

Farewell, and see you soon!
 
Love how between all the fucked up political vendettas and class abuse ABfI still remembers that it's a Pokemon fic.
This means a lot to me. Thank you for saying this.

"her grandmother"? Not "your grandmother"?
Small typo, quickly fixed. The flashback was initially written in third person.

Like you're saying this so blatantly now Elpis, can we put aside the charade now? Can we just say Aria is Isabella's daughter now? I've been thinking that, I'm pretty sure everyone has, like it's being signaled Super Hard with how her "mom" is trying to shape her into this utter exemplar of high breeding and sophistication.
I dunno what you mean :)

Alternatively, Otome Webtoon tropes never disappoint with this trope, so why should I?



Elpis you doggone son of a bitch.
See the angle with the adoptive daughter was just smokes and mirrors to distract you from the fact that music-related names are actually the equivalent of color names from early games- I'm happy you're enjoying this as much as me, though I admit I wasn't quite as in-depth with the name definitions, ambiguousness is after all the best friend of foreshadowing.
 
...

Hang on.

A cappella means "in chapel or choir style" and refers to a purely vocal performance without instruments.

In music, an aria is a self-contained piece for one voice, with or without instrumental or orchestral accompaniment, normally part of a larger work.

Elpis you doggone son of a bitch.
It may be considered important by some to note that a cappella does not mean the same thing as 'a song' or 'a chorus'.

The root form of a cappella is alla cappella, or in the style of the church. It is used to refer to a particular style of music originally performed by the church; the most famous version of this would be Gregorian chants.

It may be considered important to note this because it would be incorrect to refer to this style of music as a cappella, referring to a singular song or even a singular type of music. No; the a itself is an important part of the word, being a shortening of alla.

Put another way;

Cappella by itself is incomplete. It needs the accompaniment. It is not cappella; it is a cappella, or acappella. Without the other half of the phrase, well; cappella, on its own, just means in the style of another, or in the style of the chapel. There is no music without the accompaniment.
 
[X] It's an opportunity.

[X] … with a Knight's Authority.

I've always thought Sneasle was a cool line. And authority - standing, power, knowledge - is something I think will be useful for Aria's villainess energies-
 
Okay, I squirreled away some time, so lemme knock out this interlude real quick like, I've been looking forward to Kael!

"Stories of Elysium" is a fun overarching title for the mythic interludes we can expect A Ballad for Icarus to keep coming back to (especially since it's probably half-diegetically meant to be taken for Aria reading these legends from Lissy's book), and Kael the Sunsinger...An epithet with no small implication knowing what the Empire of Sol rests on.

"Let me tell you of the founding myths, of golden rays of sunlight."

The table is set for iced tea and snacks. Instead of cookies, Winterberries sit in bowls with small forks. They're as sweet as can be, despite the warmer weather of the last few months. Cubes of ice sit in the cups.

"Grandmother, is this story boring?" a young girl asks. Her grandmother gives a simple smile, and though there are so many other things to do, today the young girl decides to sit with her grandmother and listen to a story she wants to tell.

OH. OH I SEE.

Gran Gran Flamberg...

Everything keeps coming back to these damn berries.

"Long ago—" she begins.

"When you were a child?"

"Longer, even," the grandmother says. She said it so casually. What could be longer than the life of her grandma? "A thousand years, perhaps longer. And even then, the exact time has been lost."

"How do you lose time?" the girl asks, crossing her arms. The grandmother laughs.

"Do you remember the day you took your first steps?" the grandmother asks in return. The girl thinks, and thinks, and thinks—but nothing comes to mind. She shakes her head, and the grandmother nods. "Sometimes, things are just forgotten. Time is lost."

The girl nods in return. Of course, that makes sense. "So back then, what happened?"

I love how silly this is, but really succinct and earnest.

It's clear why most of what Aria knows comes from her grandmother, she knew how to coach information for a child without talking down to her.

Ahhhhh, the way this prelude, in of itself, is stylized as if a fairy tale from a distant time...

"Back then, there was no Kingdom of Gildera. And no Empire of Sol."

That rouses the interest of the girl quickly. The things she always knew? Not yet created?

"Back then, the first emperor did not set out to create an empire at all," the grandmother explained. "Kael the Sunsinger was a warrior in what we used to call Elysium. The continent held no borders, people were free to do as they pleased. Unfortunately, this also meant that those stronger than others could impose their wills on those weaker than them.."

The girl takes a sip from the tea, pretending to know what 'impose' means in the context of that explanation. She raises her head, with all the dignity she has as her grandmother reaches over and wipes the tea from her cheek. "Impose, of course."

"From the west of their lands, there was a great and terrible Union. A group of people who had pooled their resources and men together in an attempt to take over the continent."

"But grandmother," the girl says. "Are we not west of the empire?"

The grandmother said nothing, continuing as if the question had never been asked.

HM. OKAY.

They say the ancestors of the Gilderans hail from there, Girallia and Titania— where the Union once formed to take over the continent a thousand years ago.

You wonder what they're like, the people and the Pokemon there.

The Union coming back in this context is really, interesting in the overall motif at play.

Like this was already somewhat felt but Granny Flamberg maybe had political opinions that aren't quite, conductive to the current status quo.

The girl takes a sip from the tea, pretending to know what 'impose' means in the context of that explanation. She raises her head, with all the dignity she has as her grandmother reaches over and wipes the tea from her cheek. "Impose, of course."

Impose, of course, pffft.

"Kael gathered his own group to fight back. Many heroes were born in those ages. Inana, who is said to have come from the moon. Aenya, who they say came from the future. Daron, who could cure any wound. Those four built an army that could rival the Union. One day, before a fateful battle, they gathered together on the hills that have become the mountains that surround us."

This is a fr interesting Precursor Hero Squad, especially Aenya, who comes from the future, like that's just a thing that happens.

I mean, it is, Celebi is out there, but I mean it's funny in the context of ancient myth especially, as that "future" already become the past by now?

"Hills that become mountains," the girl says, failing to keep the awe out of her voice. "Like I will grow taller than my father, right?"

The grandmother raises her hand, giving the girl a pat on the head. "That will take a while, you have to eat more than fruit and iced tea if you want to achieve that."

The girl pouts, but continues to listen.

LMAO.

Ruby is short. No, that's not quite accurate. They're average, when compared to you. As tall as you means average, right? That's how measurements work.

Aria, I'm sorry, you're still short as hell, you're gonna need to rely on your dad (adoptive or bio) being a manlet.

...Well, neither is gonna stand as tall as your memory of Drake, huh?

"Kael and his Charizard sat on that hill, finding the flags of the Union gathering in the distance. So far, despite their resolution, Kael's army failed to win any major battles. The Union was strong, and it was growing stronger still as it took what it conquered. The people suffered, but their leaders didn't care."

"That's not too different, is it?" the girl whispered. "Nobles who don't care about their people?"

"A people without a king remain a people still," the grandmother says. "But a king without people rules nothing but hills. Though that much is true now as it was all those centuries ago, bottomless greed is in the nature of man."

The girl didn't have the vocabulary to disagree. That it's quite clear to her that people can be better than that. That greed is not nature, but a flaw in those whose hearts are too small. That when she has a treat, she will always share it with her brother.

ROUGH.

Insane to me how Aria's belief in human goodness is entwined with her certainty of human fallacy, and the people who prove the former to her are the ones who paint the latter all the more starkly.

Love how Kael is a Charizard Guy, like of course he's a Charizard Guy—

You blink. He tilts his head to the side. He can't be serious, surely. There's no way he'd make such a simple mistake, right?

This is Drake, after all. The man who once commanded ten-thousand and fought back an Imperial prince deep in Empire territory. They say the wounds of that battle still mark the hills that used to be called Kael's Stand.

While it's not a victory so impressive it would change the name of that place for the Solians, 'Dragon Scar' is a very famous landmark for Gilderans traveling east.

...Oh.

Gildera's been trying to mark that hill for a loooooong time, huh?

Little Aria: Are we the baddies?
Granny Flamberg: [Not saying anything]

But yeah Grandmother for sure is flying the flag of a whole different kind of union over here.

"What exactly happened in that battle, we don't know," the grandmother continues. "But we know how it ended. Kael was facing the commander of the Union, whose name is no longer known. The Dread King was supported by a powerful deity, whose darkness spread over the battlefield and helped his armies by blinding only those it was facing. So Kael cried out to the heavens."

The girl shuffles forward on her chair, sitting on the edge as she leans over. "And? What happened?"

"Heaven responded. In seconds, the darkness was gone. Though Kael has lost most of his comrades in arms, hope was beginning to spread. From the sky descended the guardian of Sol, whose head is now on every banner in the Empire."

"Solgaleo!" the girl shouts, her hands hitting the table. She spills some of the tea, but doesn't notice even as her grandmother tells the maids to leave it. "The guardian of Sol, that's it, right?!"

"Indeed," the grandmother says, handing the girl a handkerchief. The girl obliges, taking it and cleaning the spilled tea off the table.

YESSSSSSSS SOLGALEO, I FUCKING KNEW IT!!!

Again. Though. What the hell does it mean that this is medieval fantasy is gonna have to talk about the alien pokemon.

Is Ultra Space gonna come up??? Is Aenya a Faller???

Also WOW is Granny Flamberg literally going "My grandchild is gonna know how to clean up her own messes" the praxis is Real.

Wonder who the Dread King('s Legendary) is, darkness being the central motif...Like, Necrozma is unlikely, it eats light more than manifests darkness, and while "Dread" gives the implication this could be Darkrai, we'd probably have seen more dedicated to "trapped in your fears" than "blinded in the dark."

Hmm. It might be Eternatus?



"Ancient Tyrant Decides To Use Darkest Day As A Military Tactic" wouldn't be the most insane explanation, though, it'd sure as fuck be wild to throw in as "Okay so is every damn god a space alien here???"

"Solgaleo appeared in a flash of light, and the battle stopped. The Dread King tried to fight, but his power left him, the sunlight burning away his darkness and Kael took the time to negotiate."

"I didn't think you could negotiate with gods."

"Well, most people can't. But sometimes, people have a certain disposition. The content of their character makes the gods more inclined to hear one out. So Solgaleo listened. 'If I die here today, I will do it unbowed', he declared. 'But if it is not yet my time to die, O Starlight Eating Sun God, then hear out my plea.'"

"And it listened?"

"It did," the grandmother says, nodding. "He raised his sword to the sun and continued. 'I will protect everything the sun touches. From here, to the furthest reaches of the continent. Be it human, Pokemon, or the trees and flowers that give these lands their life.'"

The girl goes still. Her breath hitching in her throat as she imagines the scene in her mind. Her grandmother continues without any break.

"'So let my blood be your blood,'" Kael shouted. "'And let your lands be my lands. So that the bloodshed may end. So that my people know peace.'"

Solgaleo roars, its forehead touching the man's hand. The sword in his hand glows as bright as the sun.


"So then the newborn king carved the sunlight into the ground, creating the first border of Sol," the grandmother says. "The hills became mountains, and the Union army was banished from Sol by the Sun."

. Yo.

LOVE how the narration changed for those two lines alone.

This is such an immersive experience, Kael and Solgaleo really said:






^ Another way this fic is absolutely Pokemon.

The girl frowns, and her grandmother stops for a moment.

"Is something the matter?"

"He became king to protect them," the girl asks. "But didn't he do the same thing as the Union would have? Suddenly, he's a noble ruler, and they're his subjects?"

"That's one way to interpret it, certainly," the grandmother says. "Perhaps to some there was no difference, but stories never tell the whole truth."

"So maybe he wasn't made king by Solgaleo?"

"Maybe not. Maybe the people made him king because he protected them. Maybe there was no one who wanted to fight him for it."

The frown does not vanish, but it does soften slightly.

I love how we're breaking down the political implications of this nation founding myth and that this is what Aria's grandmother wanted to encourage in her.

That it's fine to doubt, to think, to consider all the sides, to embrace good faith as much as suspicion.

"So why are you telling me about Sol, and not Gildera?" the girl asks. "It's where we live."

"You cannot tell the story of Gildera without telling the story of Sol," her grandmother says. "Next time we meet in this garden, I have another story for you."

"It better not be boring," the girl says, standing up. She can barely look over the table when she's not sitting on the high chair. "Or else I'll fall asleep!"

Her grandmother laughs, one hand reaching out to pat the girl's hair down.

Ugh. Loved her.

YEAH I WONDER WHY YOUR GRANDMA WHO CHERISHED YOU DEEPLY TOLD YOU A STORY FROM THE HOMELAND WHO DEFINITELY HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU.

I WONDER.

Stories of Elysium:

K is for Kael — who sundered the earth.

It was during that summer ten years after my dear friend, the young poet of Thebes, had passed. In searching for meaning, I found faith. Not my own, but that of others.

I asked how do you know that the Gods can hear you? That your prayers reach their ears? That your soul will find that kingdom and live in harmony with the spirits of your ancestors?

And they pointed at the sun.

"My friend, why do you weep?" The young poet once asked me. He looked pale and broken, from a life well lived. "I will be with Atlas, the shield in front of you. My teeth will cut the throat of the Starscourge, my eyes will shine like distant suns."

"None will mourn you," I said, "not the elders of your village, or the men of the mountains and hills. The land will not know your name, nor will any beast or flower shriek as if they were your mother."

"Must I be mourned?" he asked, his head tilting from one side to the other, his hands intertwining in mine. "Must we strive to be known, so that the riverbanks we used to stroll know our feet will never touch them again?"

I could not answer him. I always feared death myself, feared the unknown. I feared so much that the mere thought froze my limbs and heart, that one day people would no longer know my name. I decided to become someone who could not be forgotten.

I decided to sing of the sun.

The Sunsinger:

Art by me, as always :V

ough

Really good.

REALLY good.

Kael's eyes are Solgaleo's colors...Orange within the blue...Love the subtle sense of dimension you gave his hair, and the little sun earring! Charming.

EXACTLY as much of a capybara as his distant distant descendant who said that.

"My friend, why do you weep?" The young poet once asked me. He looked pale and broken, from a life well lived. "I will be with Atlas, the shield in front of you. My teeth will cut the throat of the Starscourge, my eyes will shine like distant suns."

"None will mourn you," I said, "not the elders of your village, or the men of the mountains and hills. The land will not know your name, nor will any beast or flower shriek as if they were your mother."

"Must I be mourned?" he asked, his head tilting from one side to the other, his hands intertwining in mine. "Must we strive to be known, so that the riverbanks we used to stroll know our feet will never touch them again?"

Oh I see we're doing Epic of Gilgamesh yaoi. Alright alr—Hang on.

"My friend, why do you weep?" The young poet once asked me. He looked pale and broken, from a life well lived. "I will be with Atlas, the shield in front of you. My teeth will cut the throat of the Starscourge, my eyes will shine like distant suns."
It's in her hands. Capella smiles at you, waving the satchel back and forth in front of you. You make a grab for it, but she is faster, dancing around the room and leaving you winded. She laughs, ragged and short as she runs out of breath herself. Her skin is so pale she always looks sick and ragged, yet somehow her stamina beats yours by far.

Oh my god. Aria and Kael have the same taste in sickly victorian killing machines.

Okay but this is just really touching, the way he decided to strive for an immortality in deeds, the way this is a passage from a book Lissy has carried from her childhood, the way she wants to be Kael, the way she gave this memory to Aria that connects to her own...!

Profoundly, love your work Elpis.

Squadkrows are best crows. Sad Thalia can't join up, but may we return one day, perhaps to find a Honchkrow

Honestly I've been thinking about this too, Thalia the Honchkrow would be a really fun beat for the return to Caer Rivenhold.

After hours of trying to consider things more deeply and thinking of pros/cons I'm gonna keep it simple. I like the idea of sparring with a Sneasel.

Imagine having a fucking Sneasel Sword Style as one of the traits Aria could level into. Imagine.

See the angle with the adoptive daughter was just smokes and mirrors to distract you from the fact that music-related names are actually the equivalent of color names from early games- I'm happy you're enjoying this as much as me, though I admit I wasn't quite as in-depth with the name definitions, ambiguousness is after all the best friend of foreshadowing.

Music-related names are actually the equivalent of color names is actually the coolest fucking thing, such fantastic context on everything going on between Aria and Capella (she's her Blue!).

It may be considered important by some to note that a cappella does not mean the same thing as 'a song' or 'a chorus'.

The root form of a cappella is alla cappella, or in the style of the church. It is used to refer to a particular style of music originally performed by the church; the most famous version of this would be Gregorian chants.

It may be considered important to note this because it would be incorrect to refer to this style of music as a cappella, referring to a singular song or even a singular type of music. No; the a itself is an important part of the word, being a shortening of alla.

Put another way;

Cappella by itself is incomplete. It needs the accompaniment. It is not cappella; it is a cappella, or acappella. Without the other half of the phrase, well; cappella, on its own, just means in the style of another, or in the style of the chapel. There is no music without the accompaniment.

I love a cappella, so thank you for going in-depth in my place. I wanna explain another side of the layers, which will benefit from the example of both musical styles:


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8XfR2DnZvBc

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NxcjF_TU_no

(Am I just taking the excuse to share songs I really like? Yes. Yes I am.)

Arias are operatic song form that stand out by relying on one voice, whether or not that includes accompanying instrumentation.

While there are concert arias, which are made as song contained wholly by themselves, arias are primarily a theatrical performance, a powerful mood piece that contrast and clarify the overall emotional body of the work, often containing reoccurring motifs as the inclusion of ritornelli became a typical feature.

In other words, despite being defined as a solo that's set apart, in its native form, an "Aria" cannot exist in an independent context any more than "A Cap(p)ella."

I've always thought Sneasle was a cool line. And authority - standing, power, knowledge - is something I think will be useful for Aria's villainess energies-

Honestly every now and again I get really focused on everything else going on with ABfI and I forget this is running on otome villainess tropes.

And then Capella walks in and I think "Oh god is this the insane lesbian villainess?"

He reaches out to wrap his hands around your throat and something inside of you snaps.

If your legs won't do it then your hands will. You stab the sword into his leg, it's all you can reach. The pain makes him cry out. He's off-balance. He's easy picking.

You knock him over, straddling him and raising your fists. You punch down, knuckles meeting flesh. You punch again, and again, and again. Your arms start to tire and you slow down when the man stops crying out in pain. He's… not dead, you're certain. He's still breathing, though most of the air he takes in comes with a solid bit of blood that is running down his face, causing him to cough.

Your fists are black and blue. Your shield is red with blood. Your vision is still blurred and turning dark around the edges.
Two steps forward and a leap. Your fist crashes down on her defense, the shield in her arms sending pain into your knuckles. Despite it, you persevere. She counters with a swing of her sword, once again aiming with the side of the blade to knock the wind out of you. You don't let her, blocking with your arm and ignoring the pain as your elbow snaps toward your ribs.

Your other hand comes up, ready to knock her off her feet.

It fails, of course. She is faster, raising her face to the sky and dodging the uppercut with grace, before copying the move you used against the poacher, slamming her forehead into your face.

You are sent reeling. Step after step backwards, before you finally reach a tree. Your back touches the wood and your legs immediately give out under you. Your nose is bleeding again. Capella was never gentle, but you did expect a bit more decency.

The next noise out of your mouth is laughter. Not mocking laughter, not joyful one, just laughter. In lieu of any other possible words and noises, exchanging exhaustion for mirth, you find yourself laughing. When Capella stabs the sword next to your neck and deep into the tree, the noise grows louder.

"Why are you laughing?" she asks, leaning forward. "I won the fight, you have to come back with me. You should be… angry, upset."

"Because you'll let me go," you say, your hand reaching out to her cheek. "Because you know, Capella, that if you drag me back, I will die."

And then Aria does shit like this and it's like "Oh so she's the insane lesbian villainess. Okay."

Big Fan.
 
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I had to wait way longer than I wanted to in order to sit down with this, but FINALLY. FINALLY I CAN READ THE NEW CHAPTER. Honestly, I'm giddy getting to see where this is going after the note the last one ended on.

The sword in your hand is pointed at the throat of—a Murkrow? You shake your head, trying to clear up the grogginess and failing miserably. The Murkrow raises its wings in surrender, and a trio of squawks behind it make you tense.

"Ah," you say, lowering the sword. You look around you. A clearing, from the sun's position and the density of trees a decent way away from the Caer. "It's you."
RIGHT OFF THE BAT oh my god it's the same Murkrow. Actually genius bookend, oh my god. This paints such a clear image in my mind, especially combined with the character art. It's very easy to picture a battered Aria waving a sword at a trio of Murkrow. Cannot believe it's the same Murkrow though, incredible.

The leader Murkrow salutes. It looks up at you, and there is… worry? Concern? Pity. Any of these three or maybe a combination of them.
"Fuck," you say. The Murkrow looks horrified for a moment, then the concern takes over its expression again. "Sorry, I need… I need to hide."
They're worried about her because she was cool last time!! That's so sweet. Rivals looking out for their rival's trainer... Also the fact that her swearing seems to startle them, or that Aria thinks that these Murkrow would be startled by her swearing is just. Incredibly funny. Aria simultaneously being a very put together character at the outwardly surface level and extremely not that leads to these moments where you could picture her putting money in the swear jar that she instituted.

The connection you have with Skiddle will survive this, you are certain. Perhaps she will come look for you, though…

You grab the ball from your waist. It's cracked, open on one spot. The fall must've broken it. No matter how solid something is, enough pressure will cause strain, and enough strain will lead to the end of all things. Even if you can't right now, until you meet again you know that Ruby and the others will take care of her.
Oh god okay so no Skiddle. Like, as soon as she wasn't mentioned in the opening of the chapter I knew, but I wasn't sure if she'd be gone or not after the last chapter. Maybe she could have fled as well, and tracked down Aria, but that did not happen!

... where is she though... I mean, let's HOPE that Ruby and the others are taking care of her. All bets on integrity and decency are off right now.

The closest village is… too dangerous to approach. You have to go another way.

To Marchioness Reichert.

The border is not far, and compared to certain death the Spectrier Guard might at least arrest you and hear you out before execution or extradition.
We're going to be toughing it alone no matter what for a bit...

[X] It's too dangerous.

... So let's make that even longer~! But on a serious note aside from just not trusting the Spectrier Guard after *that* fiasco, I also am just inclined towards a more mistrustful Aria in general. She's fun when she's bitter and mad.

"Hey, err, Murkrow?" you say. The leader crosses its wings, the others follow suit. "This is gonna be hard, can I give you a name for the time being?"

Leader Murkrow salutes, and you think for a moment. It's not easy to come up with a name, but it's not like this one is your partner so you don't need to be creative or deep. Murkle? You shake your head. A female Murkrow, hmmm…

"Thalia," you say. Lissy's book comes to mind. One of the many names in it. Having one name to call is already better than having none. Thalia salutes once more, tilting her head.

"Thalia, Squadkrows," you say, your voice low. "I need help, I know we got off the wrong foot before but I really can't afford to be caught now."

They look at each other, then to Thalia. Thalia caws, then salutes once again, flying up to your shoulder. She points with her beak, and you try to contain the relief in your chest. You can't let your guard down.
She gives her a nickname. I love Aria. Thalia is a really good name too. I don't think she's going to recruit any of these Mukrow, just because that feels like a very significant thing to not be a vote. But we'll see as I keep reading.

Oh wait, I just noticed she refers to the other two as Squadkrows. Actual best character ever, oh my god. That's adorable. Aria being very silly about her extremely serious flight from the burning bloody ashes of the place she called home.

The Murkrows try to help, two of them creating gusts of wind with their wings to clear the snow in front of you. Another is flying ahead, checking around and turning your direction with Thalia whenever it spots something in the way.
This is melting my heart. The Squadkrows are helping her find safety... Literally the realest ever. I'm very sure we're not bringing any of them with us now, but I wish we were. I hope Thalia makes a reappearance later down the line.

"I am Aria," you introduce yourself, remembering that you've never done so properly before. "I used to live in the Caer nearby."

Thalia caws.

"Yeah, it's not that much of a home anymore."
What does that say about you? To be so quick to lose that attachment to the place. Well, it's not that the place was what was important to you. It was Drake, it was Capella.

It is Capella, and Lissy, and Ruby.

Thalia caws again, pecking your head. You wave towards her, stopping her vicious assault. "Ow, okay, no distractions! I get it!"
It has been a consistent refrain that home is not a place, but people, to Aria. Which makes sense. Her brother was home but her 'mother' was not. Leaving the Caer behind isn't the part that hurts (as much), it's being separated from the people she loved.

Also Thalia keeping our internal-monologue prone currently injured Aria on task is again, very cute. The Squadkrows going above and beyond with zero notice is going to make me cry, goodness gracious.

One of the Squadkrows leads you further in. There's no fire, no wood, nothing dry enough to use any of those stupid survival skills you've spent so many years learning about. You're too tired, and too hurt, and too distracted. You end up having to bend down, crouching half of the way to the deepest part of the cave.

"Thank you," you manage to say, your voice echoing. Thalia caws softly. You find yourself comforted, and while you can't tell what they're saying at all, you know they're good Pokemon, if a bit mischievous and prone to pranks.

While Thalia nuzzles up against you, the other Murkrow are blanketing you in leaves and twigs. It gets warmer, and though the pain remains you find yourself drifting off to sleep.
Obviously I'm going to continue to refer to them as Squadkrows but I love that Aria does as well. Diehard need to name pokemon who help her, no matter how briefly they'll be working together. Also awww, dropping the bit that she can actually understand them to acknowledge that they're helping her out of the blue. Hugging Thalia... the Squadkrows blanketing her... this is so sweet oh my god. I would die for these birds.

"They're not that old either," she says. "We are their parents, the only people they can rely on. When we tell them to do something, they will have to do it. That is what family means."
You notice a single thing— a single moment that will sit in your heart forever— not once in that conversation did they say your name.
Aria really had enough to worry about without having a Precia in her life. Attacking and killing the Marchioness. Interesting that she's planning to marry off Aria to someone. If I'm understanding the implication right, Aria herself is someone of significance that they're trying to sweep under the rug by trapping her in a political advantageous arranged marriage? Awful stuff, good writing!

Thalia stirs next to you, cawing softly as you shake her awake. "I have to leave."
She stayed with her though the whole night to keep her warm... Thalia...

You look down and in between the twigs and leaves that they put on you to keep you warm, there are large berries. You grab those you know humans can't digest and put them aside, slowly shuffling out of the crevice and finding yourself sitting next to the entrance, biting down on a bitter fruit that takes all the grogginess away from you.
They didn't know what humans could eat so they just grabbed everything they could find...

"I guess you don't want to come with me, do you?" you ask. Thalia shakes her head. She points at the rest of the squad that's still lying asleep in the cave. Then she points at herself. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Still, if I'm ever around again, we can share some berries."

Thalia caws, then salutes you one last time as you stand up. You hope you can return. To get Skiddle back, to give your friends hugs and apologize. To stand in front of that guardsman and cut his head off.
All good things must come to an end. I dearly hope this will not be the last we see of the Squadkrows. The realest ones.

As a quick aside, the fact that there are groups of pokemon who bonded this much to someone but still wouldn't want Aria to actually be their trainer and traveling partner is very cool! It lends a lot of texture and grounding to the different ways humans and pokemon in the setting interact. Reinforces the idea that a pokemon wanting a trainer is something more specific and distinct from just liking a human.

Also Aria adding revenge on that one guardsman to her homecoming to do list is just. The best. I love this about her. I still think about her calling that guy 'Champ' and smile.

You roll into the snow, your cloak keeping most of it away from your still cold body. You shake any of it from your head as you stand up quickly, turning around to find—Capella.
Oh god.

This is so good. I definitely was not expecting it, but of course Capella manages to find her.

"You always run when there's trouble," Capella says. You can see the tears in her eyes freezing as they travel down her cheeks. "But you never come to me for help."

You don't know what to say to that, so you say nothing—no, screw that.

"It's because I run from everything," you say, pushing against her. She has the high ground, but you have the fury that she lacks. "Because I never face anything head on, because I always relied on you and Drake that I don't know what to do!"
Aria... the breadth of like, emotional dynamics and meditations on the concept of personal agency in the people Aria is close to is really good. Love Aria rebelling against that passive instinct to just not explain herself, and instead pushing back against Capella and make her understand.

"I know!" Her shout startles the wildlife around you. "But if you're gone, they'll assume you're guilty anyway. Aria, you have to come back with me!"

She raises her hand toward you. You find your feet take you forward, your hand reaching back.

You know that nobody will believe you. You know that before you find yourself facing a court, you will face a blade. You know that Capella will do anything to keep you safe, and in the end she will be at your side, even in—even in death.
Hm??? I don't really think-

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. The letter in your pocket feels so, so heavy.

You are Aria.

Once, that name had more than four letters.

So—

[ ] … you take Capella's hand.
You cannot let Capella die. She is all you have left. You are all she has left.

[X] … you have to leave.
OH. OH MY GOD.

Elpis the fake out vote is so, so cool.

I have the biggest smile right now, I love stuff like this, so good, but especially right here at this moment. The restatement of her own identity, the name, the missing letters.... The Letter.

"I'm sorry too," she says. She lunges, and you dodge, like usual. Unlike all the other times, however, she does not stumble over your outstretched foot. She… always knew how to dodge it, didn't she?
oh this is so quietly heartrending actually. agony.

Though, wait, didn't Aria pull this trick against Lissy too and have it work then?
You open your eyes when you hear her steps, dirt kicking up behind her. You don't raise the sword to defend with this time, you wait for the right moment, you wait for her to overextend in the ways you know Capella is prone to.

She does, though the tip of her sword manages to catch your shoulder on the way down as you twist out of the way. You stab forward, the sword's length catching Lissy in the stomach. She turns, also barely inconvenienced by the attack.
oh my god she did. That's actually really funny. Sorry Lissy, you've got some catching up to do with your rival I guess.

Anyways, back to the agony.

What use is the idea that if you had done a thing different, if you had taken a different turn at that burning village, if you had stretched out your hand instead of pulling it away?

Though you know your heart would break, over and over and over again.

You would still do it all over again. Because that's the kind of person Drake raised you to be.

"I don't understand you!"

You don't have any energy to answer, so you ball your fist, raising it up. You will make her understand you.
dqjkfhjdsj this is such a serious moment but that quiet "I'll punch you about it then" resolve is cracking me up.

"Why are you laughing?" she asks, leaning forward. "I won the fight, you have to come back with me. You should be… angry, upset."

"Because you'll let me go," you say, your hand reaching out to her cheek. "Because you know, Capella, that if you drag me back, I will die."
"I wont the fight, you have to come back with me" is so... the logic of a child angry that her playmate isn't following the rules of the game. augh. And Aria brings reality crashing down around both of them.

"Promise me," she says. Her voice is small against the biting wind. "Promise me you'll hide until I solve this. Then, when everything is clear, you can come back. We can become the knights Drake wanted us to be."

"I promise," you say, lying to her. Lying to yourself. Nothing will be how it was, even if your name is cleared. Even if the Order is willing to accept you back in. You continue, speaking the one truth you will manifest even if the gods stand in your way. "We'll be together again, Capella."
One last lie to her best friend, for the road! Ahhh this hurts so much. So good.

She does not look at your face to check the truth in your words. Her feet take her forward and away. Towards the Caer, holding the belt with your broken Pokeball as proof of your fight. You reach out, but by the time you find the strength in your feet to chase her, she is long gone.

Today, she is the one who runs.
Capella not looking at Aria to see that she's lying is definitely right up their with pretending she didn't know how to avoid the trip.

You clench your fist and move forward…
[X] … with a Knight's Cunning.

Let's go Wisdom-maxing! Misdreavus and its evolved form are also some of my personal favorites, and have been for a long time, so this lines up well.

I will have to get to the Interlude later, both to juggle my workload and also out of consideration for length.
 
Scheduled vote count started by Elpis on Oct 11, 2024 at 3:38 PM, finished with 32 posts and 22 votes.
 
There isn't a single chapter in the entire fic where Aria's been better off for Capella's presence. Maybe someone else will miss her, but I certainly won't.
 
Alright, time for the interlude now that I've had a chance to sleep!

The table is set for iced tea and snacks. Instead of cookies, Winterberries sit in bowls with small forks. They're as sweet as can be, despite the warmer weather of the last few months. Cubes of ice sit in the cups.
Oh this is so cozy! Iced tea and sweet berries... for whatever reason that wouldn't have come to mind, even though it is definitely a thing. It feels very natural and warm (well, iced I suppose) here though. Fits the storytime mood well.

"Long ago—" she begins.

"When you were a child?"

"Longer, even," the grandmother says. She said it so casually. What could be longer than the life of her grandma?
Adorable. My heart, gosh. This is definitely Aria given the (gestures vaguely), and she is exactly as precocious as I would expect.

"A thousand years, perhaps longer. And even then, the exact time has been lost."

"How do you lose time?" the girl asks, crossing her arms. The grandmother laughs.

"Do you remember the day you took your first steps?" the grandmother asks in return. The girl thinks, and thinks, and thinks—but nothing comes to mind. She shakes her head, and the grandmother nods. "Sometimes, things are just forgotten. Time is lost."

The girl nods in return. Of course, that makes sense. "So back then, what happened?"
snrk. Aria sagely nodding at that. I mean it's honestly very sensible and well-reasoned it's just also really funny, of course she's like this. The grandmother is delightful, also. Very fun very fun.

"Back then, the first emperor did not set out to create an empire at all," the grandmother explained. "Kael the Sunsinger was a warrior in what we used to call Elysium. The continent held no borders, people were free to do as they pleased. Unfortunately, this also meant that those stronger than others could impose their wills on those weaker than them.."

The girl takes a sip from the tea, pretending to know what 'impose' means in the context of that explanation. She raises her head, with all the dignity she has as her grandmother reaches over and wipes the tea from her cheek. "Impose, of course."
Fighting a battle to not comment on every single time Aria is adorable precocious, and I am going to lose that battle, this is so cute. Strongly reminding me of when a kid on a bus talked my ear off about his minecraft world. Which is to say, this feels very realistic characterization for her a kid her age. Extremely well done.
Anyways, regarding the story itself, Kael mentioned! Neat that we start right in on 'absolute freedom provides no barriers to cruelty'. In general the give and tug between sovereignty, agency, oversight, and safety are what I would expect from a quest about knights.

"But grandmother," the girl says. "Are we not west of the empire?"

The grandmother said nothing, continuing as if the question had never been asked.
lol.

"Kael gathered his own group to fight back. Many heroes were born in those ages. Inana, who is said to have come from the moon. Aenya, who they say came from the future. Daron, who could cure any wound. Those four built an army that could rival the Union. One day, before a fateful battle, they gathered together on the hills that have become the mountains that surround us."
That is... quite the list huh! Corresponds to the Legendaries as well.
'The hills that have become the mountains that surround us' that could just be because of natural geological processes, or the land could have been forcibly reshaped! Either or.

"That's not too different, is it?" the girl whispered. "Nobles who don't care about their people?"

"A people without a king remain a people still," the grandmother says. "But a king without people rules nothing but hills. Though that much is true now as it was all those centuries ago, bottomless greed is in the nature of man."

The girl didn't have the vocabulary to disagree. That it's quite clear to her that people can be better than that. That greed is not nature, but a flaw in those whose hearts are too small. That when she has a treat, she will always share it with her brother.
Oof. Very, very telling exchange. 'That's not too different' is such a biting indictment. The grandmother asserting that bottomless greed is the nature of man is... very interesting for someone Aria cherishes so much to take as a stance. Especially given Recent Events in the story proper, and Aria's present attitude about things, both when she's composed and when she's desperate.

Yes I am still thinking about "hey, Champ" the day after. Moment of all time.

But anyways, tiny Aria not having the vocabulary to articulately disagree and so she says nothing is certainly a character trait that endures, but it is interesting that it was present even before she was put into the care of Precia MGLN, or rather the Marchioness. But her internal monologue is also just adorable. "When she has a treat, she will always share it with her brother". I cry.

"Indeed," the grandmother says, handing the girl a handkerchief. The girl obliges, taking it and cleaning the spilled tea off the table. "Solgaleo appeared in a flash of light, and the battle stopped. The Dread King tried to fight, but his power left him, the sunlight burning away his darkness and Kael took the time to negotiate."

"I didn't think you could negotiate with gods."

"Well, most people can't. But sometimes, people have a certain disposition. The content of their character makes the gods more inclined to hear one out. So Solgaleo listened. 'If I die here today, I will do it unbowed', he declared. 'But if it is not yet my time to die, O Starlight Eating Sun God, then hear out my plea.'"
'I didn't think you could negotiate with gods' is. a hell of a statement. Like, yeah sure that's a little obvious, but it still took me a little aback to have it come out so bluntly. Good stuff. Also, yay Solgaleo. I wonder what your deal is. Also 'O Starlight Eating Sun God' is like, the coolest title ever.

"He became king to protect them," the girl asks. "But didn't he do the same thing as the Union would have? Suddenly, he's a noble ruler, and they're his subjects?"

"That's one way to interpret it, certainly," the grandmother says. "Perhaps to some there was no difference, but stories never tell the whole truth."

"So maybe he wasn't made king by Solgaleo?"

"Maybe not. Maybe the people made him king because he protected them. Maybe there was no one who wanted to fight him for it."
Interesting, interesting. Very 'pay attention, this will be on the quiz' moment which makes me smile. This Interlude has been REALLY good Elpis, very efficient handling of balancing relevant themes and information to the present story with it feeling like a genuine storytelling session between kid Aria and her grandmother.

"So why are you telling me about Sol, and not Gildera?" the girl asks. "It's where we live."

"You cannot tell the story of Gildera without telling the story of Sol," her grandmother says. "Next time we meet in this garden, I have another story for you."
No wait come back I want to hear more-

"None will mourn you," I said, "not the elders of your village, or the men of the mountains and hills. The land will not know your name, nor will any beast or flower shriek as if they were your mother."

"Must I be mourned?" he asked, his head tilting from one side to the other, his hands intertwining in mine. "Must we strive to be known, so that the riverbanks we used to stroll know our feet will never touch them again?"

I could not answer him. I always feared death myself, feared the unknown. I feared so much that the mere thought froze my limbs and heart, that one day people would no longer know my name. I decided to become someone who could not be forgotten.
Ough. Drinking this like fine wine.

Alternatively, Otome Webtoon tropes never disappoint with this trope, so why should I?
My time trawling for every single villainess comic I could get my hands on has prepared me well to enjoy this.
 
Update 7: The Border - Start of Arc 2


Arc 2: The Border and the Runaway Knight


Winning Vote:
[X] It's an opportunity.
[X] … with a Knight's Authority.


###
You know these woods, you know your way out.

On the way out of the woods you hear a cry. A terrible, pain-filled expression of grief. And though you, too, want to do nothing but collapse and cry until all those emotions are finally gone, you know one thing that even your distance from Skiddle cannot take away: You cannot ignore someone's plight.

It has never been a question of whether you should help or not, has it?

You can help, so you will help, because that's the kind of person you are. You don't care to call it Noblesse Oblige. You don't care to think you're better off and thus should help those who have it worse.

Even those who are not fortunate will still reach out and give someone a hand if the content of their character matches that ideal you have been chasing for ten years.

So when you find a Sneasel tied to a tree, shaking against the electrified net of what looks like an automatic trap, you do not hesitate. She glares at you, her eyes red in anger and distrust. Her claws lash out as you approach, though she cannot properly reach you. When you grab the net, she does manage to scratch your hand, but you cannot stop now.

Even as it hurts. Even as your entire body vibrates with the energy of that net. It runs up your fingers and into your shoulders before you manage to pull the net off. It takes all the strength you have left, finding yourself ripping it apart on the way down.

You land in the cold snow. It feels like you'll never stand up again.

The sky above you is dark. Heavy moonlight still finds its way through the treetops and grants you some relief from the blindness that a winter night would usually impose. The world below you is cold and soft.

The aftershocks of the trap are still there, forcing your arms close to your body. You are tense, but you cannot keep lying here. You turn to look at the tree—the Sneasel is no longer there. You breathe out of your nose, glad for the one good deed today before turning your head back to the sky.

The Sneasel fills your vision, sneaking up on you. She looks… normal for a Sneasel. A short feather in its ear, bright blue in color, contrasting its thick, dark fur it must have grown for the cold weather. She pokes you, the sharp claw sending some pain up your side as it checks for signs of life.

You roll out of the way, forcing yourself to stand up. "Please don't do that."

She crosses her arms, grinning up at you. Sneasel are… not rare in the woods, but not very common either. They usually hang out on higher ground, grouping up with a Weavile, which means this one either strayed off too far or was separated by the sudden storm.

That makes two of you.

"Well, go on then," you say, looking up. The sky reveals your position. Atlas' Star is very bright today, pointing north. You point towards the direction of that star, knowing that's where the mountains are. "Your group should be somewhere in that direction."

Silence. You look down again, finding Sneasel looking confused. You feel jealous at how casual she seems in this weather, how little she cares for the frozen world around you. It makes you shiver.

"I don't have any food," you say. Well, you do. But not for freeloaders. Sneasel are perfectly capable of finding their own food, they have excellent noses and are adept hunters and gatherers. Sneasel looks insulted.

'You think I need your food?' its expression is so loud it might as well be shouting the words in a human tongue.

"Fine," you say. "Do what you want."

You turn around, trying to find your way again. The way east, toward the Spectrier Guard. Toward the Reichert family, where the letter in your pocket must reach. Where Drake would have sent you, in the end. You shake your head, taking a step forward.

Something pokes your side again. You jump, ready to draw your sword, only to notice the Sneasel still bothering you.

"A simple thank you would've been enough," you say, sighing. Sneasel shrugs. "Just leave me alone, girl."

Sneasel shrugs again, as if to say 'That's not going to happen'. Then it points at you, before pointing at herself. She holds up a scrap of the net she must've picked off the ground, waving it around.

"You don't owe me anything," you say. You pat down your shoulders, getting rid of ice and snow. "I'm perfectly capable of continuing by myself."

She does not look convinced in the slightest, and you don't have the energy or time to argue with a 3 foot bipedal mustelid.

"Fine," you settle. "I'm on my way to the Spectrier Guard territory, you know? Big and scary people in black armor?"

'Let them come,' Sneasel challenged. You sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose. It's no use, rather than wasting more energy trying to talk you turn around and start walking. East is the way. East will continue to be the way.

Sneasel's smug face as she follows one step behind you makes you wonder if you're going to regret this.

The red in her eyes starts to change into a different hue as you glance back. Probably nothing, and with that journey ahead you cannot afford any distractions. If nothing else, not having to walk this path alone helps a lot.

You have formed a new bond. This Sneasel embodies the aspect of Authority. You already have a partner, though. You have one Skiddle. Forming this new bond makes you wonder, has Skiddle also found someone else to take care of her? Is she looking for you still?

Until that day you meet again and give that girl a hug, you must accept this distance. But you will never forget her, and you will not forget what she means to you:

Wisdom and Authority become one.

You are [Imp l]. This aspect of you is not yet fully formed. It seems to be missing a few letters.

For now you should choose a name for your new friend.


[ ] Capo
Again. Do it again. The melody keeps repeating from the start.

[ ] Inana
A hero, named after Kael's wife. A name Lissy would love for sure.

[ ] Obsidian
Minerals and gemstones are so, so beautiful. They remind you of someone.

[ ] Charon
A monster in Ancient Elysium, like those that Drake named his Pokemon after.

###

You and that Sneasel are not a perfect pair. It's so easy to point out the differences to Skiddle—in most part it's the way Sneasel decides on things. She does not listen, which is fine, you aren't prone to listen either after all. She will do what you ask if you say please and thank you. She will do as you ask if you ask, not order.

Because nobody should order someone so admirable. Skiddle was cute, and she knew she was cute, but knowing she was cute made it cute!

Sneasel is… well, cute. But she knows she's cute, and that makes her not cute.

Despite your apprehension, the routine between you develops quickly. She points out shelter, you point out directions, traveling so far off-road that you can avoid people but still close enough to it to feel safe.

At this point, you are not sure just what you can do once you reach the depths of the Reichert territory. There should be few blue knights behind you at this point, Carrier-Pidgeys are much better to send around even if the harsh winter slows them down to a crawl.

The storm has ended, at least. Instead, slow and steady snowfall that does not melt in this climate and makes the already perilous path into something uncomfortable.

"Hey," you call out, frowning. Sneasel stops in her tracks, turning around with narrowed eyes, still somehow suspicious of you. "Is it easy? To just leave your family behind to follow me?"

Pokemon have different ties to their families. Some species simply don't have them, some only move in packs until the end of their lives, and some are a bit more free spirited.

But humans are humans, and Pokemon are Pokemon.

"Snee," Sneasel says, actually verbalizing her answer for once. You still can't speak Pokemon, but you imagine it's something like 'Family stays family'.

"I get that," you say, pursing your lips. "But that doesn't mean it's easy, does it?"

'We are not separated,' Sneasel says. It points at her feathers. 'We share our feathers, our bond does not break so easily.'

"Feathers…" you say, thinking about Skiddle again. That dark feather in her hair. Thalia and the Squadkrows who saved your life in that cold storm.

'Do you not have their feathers?' Sneasel asks. You look at the pouch at your waist. At the small book inside. At the box of rations. At Drake's letter and Capella's thread that tied the pouch shut again.

"I do," you answer. You don't know what emotion you're feeling now, between the storm of strange ideas and weird thoughts. Even Zack is still with you, in a way, in your name, in your actions. "Thank you."

'You're welcome.'

Well, at least there's some common ground you can find.

###

The rations are still plentiful, but warmth is hard to come by. The hours you've walked, the nights you've slept in small crevices that Sneasel pointed out. You find yourself comforted by her presence, more than you care to admit out loud. The winter is too harsh, the snow too high, to really look for you. Or perhaps Capella pointed them into the wrong direction.

Bells ring in the distance. The vibrations echo in your bones and you clench your teeth through the clattering, facing the cold as you look up.

DING. DONG. DING—

You don't know how long you've been walking today. You do know, however, that you should have gotten caught by border guards by now. Sneasel stands at your side, but the journey to here was… too easy. The bells— you know the code, you try to remember but it eludes you until you see a large group of people sitting in carriages in the distance.

Evacuation.

DING. DONG. DING—

The village you find yourself in is being evacuated, the bell rings three times, then takes a break. Then three more. You have heard of this before, when the winters are very harsh, how the villagers are taken in by the city of Marquess Reichert to stay until the temperatures rise again.

Your dangerous choice has become a good opportunity, it seems.

Or it would have been, until you notice the gaze of the armored man sitting atop a strange looking Rapidash. It has no flames on its head, instead a mane of hair that looks like candy adorns it. It makes for a contrast you would have found funny on any other day, the black sheen of the heavy armor against the pale beauty of the Rapidash—the emblem on that armor, a mirror of the Glastrier Knight's, pointing in the wrong direction with a cross instead of an oval in the middle.

You tense up as he approaches. You haven't stopped your own feet. If you look casual, natural, maybe he will assume you're a—

That damn uniform, still. You tighten your cloak around you, hiding everything but your head. The approaching knight calls out.

"Halt," he calls. He doesn't look that old, perhaps in his early twenties, and his voice is also young to match. His blue hair is long and tied up, revealing a rather ridiculous scar that travels from the top of his ear down to the side of his neck. "Who goes there?"

A million possible answers, and very few convincing. You managed to scrub away most blood from your face, but the bruises are still healing and sore. You definitely do not look like a normal villager.. Sneasel is hiding behind you, ready to strike, waiting for that moment where the knight's eyes meet yours.

"Sofia!" a voice calls out, killing any thought of violence. You turn away from the knight, your gaze meeting that of an elderly woman. She's dressed much like you, coat and all. You can see a stick to help her walk under it, gripped by pale and thin fingers. She ignores the knight completely, walking toward you with a purpose and then grabbing your head, forcing it down, away from the man's gaze. "Oh dear, what a mess you made of yourself. Come, we must get you warmed up."

You don't get to protest as the woman drags you away, just past the knight, who looks too stunned and confused to really doubt the woman's words. For a moment, you're just as confused. Did she mistake you for someone? No, though the woman is quite old and her eyes are half-lidded and unfocused, the sharpness of her movement makes you realize she's helping you escape notice.

Her other hand just grabs Sneasel's claw and drags her with you as well.

The village looks absolutely drowned in snow. Knights are sitting on various mounts and keep watch over the evacuation efforts. Mudbray stand tall in front of the carriages, waiting for the order to move. Nobody gives you a second glance as the old woman moves you forward in line, skipping ahead of most villagers.

What you don't know is why. The villager woman gets you into one of the carriages with her. It smells of a campfire that must have burned last night, spartan but full of people who are huddled up together and giving each other warmth and comfort. None of the villagers inside, who would no doubt know that she is not your grandmother, make a single sound.

Two of them grab heavy blankets, throwing them over you, warming you up and hiding you between them. It is the first of real warmth you've felt in the past two days.

You don't know what to say, so you say nothing. The sting in your eyes that announces tears is simply because of the cold wind, nothing else.

"Why are you helping me?" you manage to ask. You notice Sneasel at your feet, hiding in between the blankets and enjoying the warmth all the same.

"Because you look like you need help," the old woman answered.

"Aria," your grandmother says, her voice weak, her fingers thin and pale as they hold onto your hand. "You are a good child."

You must help those who you can help, so why is accepting help in return so hard?

"A child like you should not look like she had a life well lived," the old woman says. You freeze.
A life well lived. A curse to any noble, and the common man's most polite way to say that one was run ragged by circumstance.

"I'm not a child," you say. She smiles at you, with all the softness and generosity that someone could muster for a stranger. It is much, much kinder than you're used to. Her hand reaches out, and though you want to do nothing more than grab and stop it, you don't want the attention.

Her fingers trace your shoulders. "A child does not stop being a child by being a warrior."

"I'm not a warrior either," you say. You don't know what you are. Some vagrant, a masterless knight.

"We may not all fight the same battles, Sofia," she says. You frown, that name again. "But we are all warriors, each and every one of us. We fight for our family, for our friends, for our homes."

Your frown deepens. You know those words, a prayer, though you cannot remember what church it belongs to. Regardless, the words of that old faith resonate with you. She isn't wrong, and even then, trying to hide your origin with that sword sticking out of the blankets is futile.

"Aria," you say, introducing yourself. You cannot give them a wrong name, you cannot hide who you are again. This is what you picked, and this is what you stand by. "I am Aria."

"Welcome to Traviolle, Aria," the old woman said. The others in the carriage echo her words. "I am Beatrice. The young ones call me Old Bea."

"Thank you," you say, nodding at her. You draw the blankets closer, your arms hugging around your legs, putting your chin on your knees. "I've been freezing for a while."

There's no reason to start doubting people's intentions today. There's no value in constant paranoia. That is not the person Drake wants you to be. Not the person your grandmother wants you to be.

Wanted.

You shake your head.

"I could be a criminal," you say. The blood on your hands is still fresh on your mind. For the first time in three days, you feel safe enough to think. To feel. Why is it always so easy to share with strangers? "I could be dangerous."

Old Bea simply laughs. It's such a mess. Sneasel seems to have found herself quite relaxed already, sleeping in between your feet without a care in the world. As if everything is fine now. As if—

A girl pokes your blanket. You look toward her, finding yourself in a staring contest with a six year old child. She is holding something, struggling slightly as she raises it to you. It's—it's clothes? A bundle of them. You take them with shaking hands, before two other women lift the blankets, blocking everyone's sight from you.

Ah.

They know, of course. About the blood, the smell clings on you even if you've already gotten used to it. You take the uniform off, laying it in a heap on the ground before untangling the clothes they offer. A loose shirt with long sleeves and thick trousers that'll stave off the cold. There's even a hat there, to hide your hair and ears. There's not much that can be done for your skin, but from the looks of it, this close to the border you're not the only person that has a darker complexion.

"It doesn't matter how many children van Kesteren raises to be his soldiers," Old Bea says as you settle back onto the seat. Changing is an awkward affair, though there is more space in these evacuation carriages than in the ones used to transport Glastrier knights to their duties. She holds the bloodied clothes and you can see something that looks like disdain on her face. "A child is a child, Aria. And no child deserves to freeze to death. If you have done something that brings you shame, it will not change my decision to help you now."

"The people I've met under his employ are not bad judges of character," you say, frowning. "The Duke is not… a perfect person, I know this. They took me in when I had nowhere else to go."

"It is not a time to argue politics, I suppose," Old Bea says, nodding. Someone hands her something, pieces of firestones. She crushes them, pouring the pieces into a cup and filling it with a liquid from a pouch. It quickly begins to steam before she hands it to you. Tea, you notice. The small pieces of firestone look like stars at the bottom of the cup. "But if you wish to ponder on something before you fall asleep, keep this in mind. Why did you wear a uniform, and all the knights in the east and west wear armor?"

You don't know.

Or rather, you do. You can extrapolate. You can guess. You can make educated assumptions. You have a billion different ways to take what you know and create an answer that makes sense. The tea warms you, tires you out, and makes you think—a Skarmory's shedded steel can make for a single armor, or five swords. A Corviknight is bigger, though the amount of steel is much the same.

One chose weapons, the other defense.

You try to stay awake, but the exhaustion catches up to you.

There is so much more you must think about…

###

You wake up with a start. You try to stand, but a hand on your shoulder stops you, saving you from an embarrassing and loud injury. Old Bea puts a finger to her mouth, motioning for you to stay quiet. Most of the villagers are still asleep, and the children who have been the loudest on the journey here are finally quiet, leaning against their parents.

Family, you think to yourself. What a beautiful picture of family.

Outside, you can hear the knights speaking. Two of them, the young man from before and an older woman. Sneasel has climbed from the floor of the carriage into your lap, clutching around your waist and just barely avoiding stabbing you with the sharp claws.

"Duke van Kesteren is furious," the woman says. You shake your head. You can't even get nervous at this, how can those two be called knights? They're practically shouting this for everyone to hear! "It sounds strange either way, doesn't it? Someone like Drake dying?"

"Age will be the end of us all," the young knight says. "But the report does sound off, I agree. An unknown assassin? Who escaped after killing four more knights?"

You draw a sharp breath. There's no way the information could've gotten twisted like this, not unless the guards decided to abandon you as a scapegoat. No, there is something terribly wrong in Caer Rivenhold. Capella knew the truth, after all, or at least the truth that the guards were spreading.

Which means—what exactly does it mean?

The only two people who could suppress this information once it's out would be Drake himself or the Duke, whose orders are absolute. If he tells the knights not to speak of her, then they would not, but—

Your head starts throbbing. You raise your hands, rubbing your temples, trying to make sense of it. The pain behind your eyes spreads until it touches your spine. Their reputation would be tarnished if they admit that some third-rate aspirant killed the commander. This does not mean you're off the hook, but it does mean that your face will not be on bounty posters across the entire country.

It does mean that you have to avoid anyone wearing blue and white though, and burn that uniform Old Bea is hiding for you the moment you have the chance.

"Still," the woman speaks up again. "If it's true, his death is just the beginning."

"Aye," the young man answers. You can't see him, but you can hear the way his voice shifts, nervousness spreading through his chest. "I imagine it is simply a prelude to greater conflict."

The conversation dies off, but your own thoughts are still racing. The carriage slows down. It's time to open a camp for the night. The further east you come, the thinner the snow gets, the less bad the cold. In between the border and behind the mountains, the warm winds of Sol come and give the Marquess' territory a less harsh winter.

Gildera's geography feels more and more like a prison. If it wasn't for the abundance of fire stones in the mountains, it's likely the capital would've frozen over hundreds of years ago.

You help with the camp, of course. You still try to hide your face from the knights, even as you realize that they will likely not be suspicious of you. It takes only a few minutes for tents to be set up with such a practiced perfection, you realize that your help is barely needed.

These are people who have survived these winters longer than you've been alive, and yet they do not mind that you take a little bit longer to set that fire compared to them.

In the end, Old Bea is not keeping you constant company. You find yourself at the large campfire set up in the middle, keeping watch over it as you warm yourself. It's so important to you, as if you have to charge at the flames, as if you'll freeze again soon. Something like this is hard to describe to others, you realize, the feeling of cold and loneliness.

Not that you're truly that lonely. Sneasel moved away from the camp to hide in the trees when children were trying to pull at her feathers, but you can still feel her presence in the dark, watching over you, meeting your gaze when you look into the treetops.

You can still feel those hands on your back, and you wonder when you'll be able to hold them again. The bag in your hands weighs heavy with those promises. In one moment, you draw out Lissy's book, staring at the cover, tracing the title with your fingers.

Someone pokes you again. You try not to sound irritated as you turn around and smile at the child that gave you those clothes earlier in the day. You don't know her name, but with how many people you've met today there's no way you can memorize them all anyway.

"What's that?" she asks, pointing at the book in your hands.

"It's a book," you say, "a friend gave it to me."

"What's it about?" she asks.

"Old stories about heroes," you say, "like Emperor Kael."

Her eyes light up. Even those who don't know folklore and fairy tales know Kael, such is the influence of that man.

"Can you read it?" the girl asks, smiling up at you. You are eternally tired, but you've rested enough. If you can distract the kids long enough for their parents to get some rest, the first step to repay these people's kindness is already done.

"Of course," you say, sitting down next to the fire, the book opening up to the first chapter. "A is for Atlas," you read, "who protects us from the stars."

"Are the stars dangerous?" one of the children asks. You notice that the girl who asked is not the only one who's decided to listen in on the reading. The girl that speaks up is looking at the sky. She is pale and scared, shivering against the cold even though the fire is so strong you can barely feel it yourself.

"No," you say, "because Atlas protects us."

You point at the stars and find the brightest one in the sky. It shimmers, various colors coming off it when one squints. The children follow your gaze, and their shivering stops. You continue reading.

"Once, there was a great evil in the night sky," you read, trying to put on a voice like your grandmother used to do when she told a story. "It came from far, far away. A distance so great, one could cross from here to the east of Sol and back a billion billion times and still not reach it."

"That's really far…" one of the boys says, his voice low and awed.

"An oracle walked to the greatest city in Elysium and called out for a hero," you continue, "she said 'Soon there will be a challenger, who will take from us our mother earth. The stars will devour Elysium!'"

The children huddle together, the story catching their interest. You can see some of the adults listen in too, some laughing at the way you tell it, some interested in ways that make you wonder just how many of them have ever learned how to read, or if the many years of war have never given them time to enjoy their childhoods.

"But whenever we are in trouble, there are heroes who we can look up to," you say, your voice rising slightly. "Heroes like Atlas, who lived in that city! Atlas was not a warrior at all, he was a craftsman, but he knew that he was destined for something greater than himself. He would become a hero."

"A hero!" the children echo. You smile at them, standing up as you hold the book open with one hand and remove the sword from your waist, keeping it inside the scabbard before pointing it over the flame.

"Atlas gathered help. Dozens of Pokemon who were friends with him: fearsome Ursaring, intelligent Kadabra, and fearless Psyducks!" You point the sword up at the sky again. "A gaggle of Clefairy were with him, sending him up and up and up into the sky. Until under him there was Elysium, and above him, there was the eternal night sky."

You put the sword aside, leaning it against a log and focus on the words. How did your grandma do this again? You cough slightly, changing approach again. Regardless of your inadequacy, the children are entertained, and that's what matters, right?

"As he stood on the edge of the world, it appeared. It was red and blue, its eyes an empty maw, its hands stained with the light of all those stars it devoured. The Starscourge!"

The children make a loud noise together, something between a scared scream and an excited shout. You nod, continuing without missing a beat.

"'You fool', the Starscourge said, 'do you not see that you will lose? Do you not see that this is your fate written in the stars?'"

"'No', said Atlas," you say, finding the right tone finally. You can see that scene in the fire, you can see Lissy in it, swinging a sword as a child so happy and carefree as she re-enacts the very fights that made her who she is. "'I make my own fate'."

Atlas swings the spear in his hands, and the weight of the world rests on his shoulders as he fights back against the Starscourge. It fights back, but the power of his friendships, the power of his Pokemon friends at his side, prove too much for it.

The Starscourge runs, but Atlas does not descend. He knows, after all, that one day it will return.

And until then, he keeps watch for us. He guides us at night, and protects us when the sun is up, locked in an eternal battle until the end of time.


You finish the story to the cheers of the children. You don't know if you've done the right thing, now, considering how excited they look. There's no way they'll just calm down and let their parents rest now, will they?

You see them run off to grab sticks, pointing them up at the sky like you did earlier. Some begin fighting, rolling in the snow and tackling each other. Within seconds, the children forget the situation and just enjoy themselves. The sound of snow crunching under feet behind you makes you tense up.

"Your storytelling might use some work," the young knight says, smiling at you. You swallow the lump in your throat. The lack of suspicion and the fact that the story surrounding Drake's death has not properly reached their ears made you careless. "Still, it's good to see that you take your education seriously. Not many children learn to read in the villages."

"I couldn't disappoint my grandmother," you say. Half-truths and terrible, shameless lies. "I'm sorry, I made them more excited than before."

"It's fine," he says, waving off your concern with a hand. The armor reflects the bonfire, the Corviknight steel looks very nice and polished. "By the time they stop playing 'Atlas and the Starscourge' they'll probably be tired enough so they're still asleep for the rest of the journey. Any distraction's good at times like these."

"Yes," you say, pursing your lips. Times like these. Times you've never really had to consider. When winter was heavy in the Flamberg house, they simply had Arcanines warm everything up. When the snow got thick in the Caer, classes became more frequent and outside training was used to toughen up. The fact that villagers at the edges of those territories could suffer like this was never something that crossed your mind. "How long until the city?"

"We have one more village to stop at on our path tomorrow, then we should be able to reach it by nightfall or early light if we can afford to. It depends on the weather."

At least there's no fear of starvation. Gildera remains abundant, and in the cold weather preservation is very easy, snow and ice allowing for storage boxes that have become a very important exported good to Sol, who replace the natural resources with ice stones.

"You're Sofia, right?" he asks. You almost speak the truth, suppressing the reflex at the last second as your lips part. Your teeth slam together with a loud click, and you nod instead of speaking. "I am Leif, Knight of the Spectrier Guard. I lead this evacuation effort."

"You do?"

That's not the right tone, is it? You open your mouth to apologize, but the man just shrugs.

"I know I'm too young for it, but age matters little here," he says, laughing it off. "I used to grow up in a village, so I know the people and the paths better than some knights who've been around longer."

"That's… fair," you say. Experience can be useful, but the different kinds of experience are often difficult to weigh against each other. "I suppose it's easy considering how practiced they are."

"Does it seem that way?" he asks, turning his own gaze toward the fire. "Winters have grown harsher over the past years, even as we evacuate them and offer to expand the city, they keep returning here in spring. Is it good to get used to these things?"
"Is it so hard to imagine people that wish to return home?"

"Home is where my people are," he says, and you realize it is not him you are arguing with, or you that he is complaining to. It's surely an argument he's had with someone else, whose answers mirrored your own. "But enough about me, where did you learn to swing a sword?"

You look at the sword still leaning against the log. Fortunately it lacks and emblem, and the only thing that could really implicate where it comes from is the kind of steel it's made of. You decide not to draw the blade until you're out of sight.

"I picked it up here and there," you say. "The woods are dangerous, after all."

"That's true," he says. Again, he laughs it off, again you wonder just why he's focused on you. The group of villagers has reached a hundred men, women, and children. "You've been injured recently, though that does not look like a wild Pokemon did that to you."

Ah.

Why do you keep assuming everyone around you is too stupid to put two and two together?

It must be the time spent with Lissy. You hear Sneasel laugh.

He probably knows that you're not a villager.

"Still, the efforts of Marquess Reichert are appreciated," you say. "Not many nobles would help smaller villages like he does, after all."

"It is the duty of nobility, is it not?" Leif asks, crossing his arms. "Noblesse Oblige, and all that."

"That's nonsense," you say, unable to stop yourself. You slap your hands over your mouth, but he simply laughs. This makes it harder to hold back. "Noblesse Oblige puts all the responsibility on the shoulders of nobles. You can't be absolved from being a good person like that, people should help each other regardless of status if they can afford to—"

The wave of words crashes against the man's even louder laughter. You shut your mouth and glare at him, unable to mask your emotions. You just know Sneasel is somewhere out there absolutely laughing her ass off at you. You can hear that cackle from miles away.

"Well, regardless, you and your Sneasel can help us once we get to the city," Leif says.

"She's not my—" you begin, but somehow you can't continue. You shake your head. "Sorry, help you?"

"There's some problems that usually crop up around the city during winter," he explains. "It's nothing major, but you'll be compensated. While there's obviously enough food for everyone, that's rationed and mostly bland. Money's the best way to get some proper food on the table."

"Ah," you say, nodding. Of course, no single territory can just live on the labor of knights alone. "Thanks for the information. I'll keep that in mind."

He smiles and nods again before leaving to join the other knights at the tent they share.

You will be there soon. Before that last stretch, you should get some rest.

The Border City, Wallburg, is visible.

There's no way you'll be able to get that letter to Marchioness Reichert right now. You also can't just hand it over to someone, that's not what Drake would've wanted. So for now, you have to settle in, make some money, survive the winter before you can work on a new plan.

[ ] Join the patrol.
There is money to be made helping the knights patrol outside the city. The knights are looking for volunteers that can help them secure the area around the city, as wild Pokemon become desperate for warmth and food in the harsh cold and might attack civilians that travel in and out for various reasons.

[ ] Work at the camp.
This will not really earn you any coin, but it'll keep you distracted. Just because you're evacuated to the city doesn't mean that the villagers can simply stay idle. They make clothes, take care of their young, and make sure that everyone gets by.
 
[X] Capo

its not just a music reference, its a term for a mafia boss. How could I say no to calling our authoritarian Sneasel that? You just know that Aria hasn't noticed the sign on her back reading 'Property of Sneasel'


[X] Work at the camp.

Aria has already made several slips. I don't trust her to be safe around knights longterm without getting figured out.
Instead, lets help our grandma Beatrice, who can definitely keep a few secrets, and then stage a peoples revolution if we have spare time.
 
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