You are Aria. Long ago, that name had more than four letters.
A story about a knight who never set out to be a hero, alongside a party of friends, across a continent that still sings the songs of those ancient men and women that carved their names into the mountains and temples.
As inspired by an endless amount of Otome isekai, villainess stories, anachronisms and Yuri manga.
A Ballad for Icarus
Arc I: The Knights in White and Blue
Dawn breaks over the rugged hills of Gildera, casting a pale light on the stone battlements of Caer Rivenhold. Beneath the towering walls, a lone knight aspirant stands, her armor gleaming with the cold sheen of iron.
If only you had her chance.
You are not quite good enough, yet.
But then again, you've not been good enough in a long time. You started later than the others, and as much tenacity as you bring to the table, it does not defeat the training and experience of those who walk the same path as you ten steps ahead.
Yet, the cold air stabs your nose as you breathe in, your eyes dancing across the vast woods that surround the Caer which has been your home for so many years now. It is a familiar sight, and somehow it is one that you never tire of.
"You think she'll make it?" a deep voice calls out to you. You resist the urge to drop the bag in your hand and salute, trying and failing to keep up the appearance that you're working.
"I think if she can't, she wouldn't have been chosen, sir." You turn, shifting the weight of the bag from one arm to the other. "But nothing is certain."
"That is true." Commander Drake stands tall. Sharp eyes watch the new brood of knights from above, the shaved head revealing scars in places it makes you wonder how he is still alive. "The Duke says a knight's journey must be filled with peril and treachery. It is above me to disagree, but if I were to order you to tell me what you think, will you answer?"
He wears the uniform of the Order, steel dressed in blue and white.
"If it is above your station," you say. "It towers over me like your mighty Dragonite."
He makes a gurgling sound, the closest thing to laughter you have ever heard from him.
You are Aria. When Commander Drake found you, you were holding a sword like one would a slab of metal, with no grace and no strength.
And to most others, your past is shrouded in mystery. It really matters little in the grand scheme of things. Is your blood not red if you are cut? Does your voice not break when you cry out in pain? Aspirations and ambitions are what defines us, but you never would let your past define your future.
Regardless, if you have to indulge the curiosity of the masses: Once, your blood was blue when cut. Once, your voice had to be mute when your hands were struck.
Aspirations and ambitions are stifling.
Now your hair is cut short, barely reaching over your ears. You look just like any other knight-in-training, and in that group you find yourself.
"Knight Aspirant Aria," Drake says, drawing your attention back to him. You tense up. Once he said he was too old for formality. The full title… "There is a task for you."
You can't help it. The bag drops from your hands, and your hand reaches for your shoulder. You bow, not daring to raise your head. "Whatever is needed of me, I will fulfill my duty."
"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.
"It will be a while," he says. "You know the small building near the gate, a few minutes of walking away?"
"The run-down one that the guards at the north gate use for their naps?" The Caer was surrounded by woods and hills, some mountains in the distance visible between the foggy air. There's little in terms of civilization outside of the school.
"Just so." He nods. "Next month, when the first light breaks, I want you to go there. I'll be waiting."
He reaches behind him, something hidden in the cape under his Aron-Steel armor. A small brown satchel is revealed, and thrust into your hands without a word. "Sir?"
"Anything you need, besides that letter, is in here," he says. You nod. It's heavier than it looks, though compared to the bags of berries they've had you carry over the past years it feels as light as a feather. His now empty hand reaches out toward you again, hovering over your head. He doesn't tower over you, not anymore, but somehow he always makes you feel small.
You close your eyes, ready to let him do what he thought necessary. You have little hair left for him to ruin—
He pulls back.
You blink, trying not to show disappointment. Of course, you're not that young anymore.
"Remember, Aria," Drake says, his voice low. "Perils and treachery. The Duke bleeds for our King. And you bleed for our Duke. That is the way of things."
"Am I to expect much of either?"
"In between castles and cities, the wilds are filled with both."
You know this, and he knows that you do. There is nothing you can do but trust in him. Drake asks every aspirant sent on their final trial the same question.
"Are you ready, Aria?"
"Yes," you say, your hand gripping the satchel with a force that made your knuckles turn white. You look up at him, meeting his eyes properly. "I was born ready."
He smiles, his hand rising to your head once again. After a moment of thought, it patted your shoulder instead, almost knocking you down as the heavy metal on his arm weighed on you.
###
Nobility has resources and other means to ease them into taming and raising Pokemon. You imagine if it weren't so, there is little they could do to stop those under them. They control medicine, the materials to produce pokeballs come from their mines, and some families even have exclusive access to items that cause Pokemon to evolve…
You try not to think of the past. You fail miserably, but it is with the comfort of a familiar room that you let go of your worries and think ahead. It is a simple place, with two bunk beds and little else.
"Capella," you call out. She turns around. Red eyes stare back at you before narrowing. "What?"
"Something happened, didn't it?" she asks. You blink, turning around to see if Drake had followed you all the way to your room. "You're smiling too much."
Your hand slams over your lips so roughly, you cut them on your teeth. But it's true, through the pain you find yourself touching the corners of your lips and there is an unmistakable tightness of a grin. While most others would never recognize it, Capella has always been good at reading you.
Green hair dances over her shoulder as she takes slow steps toward you. It takes only a second for her to be in your face.
"I don't know what you mean," you lie with the grace of a child caught with its hand stealing sweets from the pantry.
Her eyes narrow further. "You're a good liar, but not good enough. Spill it."
"Spill what?" you say, letting the almost hidden grin spread all over your face. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Pella."
Unfortunately for Capella, the ability to read you comes with a small caveat. It is quite mutual. So you know which buttons to push, what words to say, and what way she'll react to a nickname that is barely one. She reaches out, trying to grab you. You dodge, like usual, taking a step to the side and leaving her overextended before you kick one of her legs, sending her sprawling over the ground.
The curses from her mouth are not appropriate for a future Dame.
"I have a task," you say, as diplomatic as you can. "I can't share details, but I might be gone for a few weeks starting next month."
Capella rolls around, sitting up and raising her hand. You grab it, helping her up before accepting the just punishment of her fingernails digging into your skin. Her grip becomes uncomfortably tight as she ponders your words. "Weeks?"
"Weeks," you say, nodding. The Commander was tight-lipped. He handed you a satchel with some supplies and told you to bring it with you. You grasp behind you and feel only air, your heart sinking into your gut for one terrible moment. It's not-
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.
Eventually, you manage to tackle her onto the bed, the satchel flying against the wall. A snap. You worry, but it isn't anything inside the satchel. The band that held it shut, however, is now nothing more than decoration.
"Well," Capella says, coughing. "I can fix that."
"You better," you say, frowning. You push off the bed, knocking your head against the top one. Rubbing the soreness out of your latest bump, you walk toward the satchel, picking it up. A glint of something causes Capella to cry out.
"Is that…" She blinks. You try to resist the urge to look into the bag yourself. It feels like a breach of trust, but now that the Meowth is out of the bag… Capella stares at you with a renewed sense of awe. "You did it."
"No," you say, shaking your head and reaching into the bag with a trembling hand. The emblem of the Glastrier Knights, a white and silver hoof, was engraved on it. Blue and white streaks run over the ball in your hands. It is not heavy, but heavier than an empty one. You have not held a Pokeball in so long. "He didn't say anything about it, maybe it's a mistake."
"You think he would make a mistake like this?" she asks. For a moment, it looks like she wants to grab the ball out of your hands. But she knows, if it wasn't a mistake, this is your chance.
"No," you say. Admitting it makes the lump in your throat even harder to swallow. An aspirant only receives one when they've proven themselves. When they're ready to go further. Usually, there is a ceremony. A rite of choosing. Fanfare and hands hitting your back as the seniors welcome you into the fold, so certain you're going to pass the trial with flying colors.
So why the secrecy? Why a satchel with a single Pokemon? You look inside, there are a few things. A book, a dagger—
And a small slip of paper with unmistakable handwriting.
"'You can do it.'" Capella's short-lived envy washes away. Her arm reaches around you as she takes the note out of the satchel. "He really never changes, does he?"
He doesn't. Capella was already with Drake when he picked you up. He shows barely any affection and yet whenever he notices you have a bad day, the next dinner there's an extra sweet roll on your plate. When there's a hole in your clothes after training, there's some extra money to spend to buy new ones.
Your fingers tighten over the Pokeball again as you raise it toward your forehead.
"I know I can do this."
Calling it your starter is not accurate, but it is the one that Drake has decided to be your partner. No matter how many Pokemon one catches and befriends, there is only going to be this one that will be with you all the way.
Inside is…
[ ] A brewing storm. Streaks of lightning run over the walls, sending small shocks through your fingers as you stroke the button.
This Pokemon represents a Knight's Courage. To face one's fears is the greatest of strength to those who wield the sword. Persist and push forward even in the face of impossible odds. Those with enough courage in their hearts would not even fear the mighty Gyarados' intimidating glare.
[ ] A fiery temperament. Though it looks so cold, the Pokeball is hot to the touch. You move it from one hand to the next.
This Pokemon represents a Knight's Power. To overwhelm one's enemy, one must first master oneself. They say the most powerful of all knights may catch even a charging Tauros by the horns. Surely such stories are exaggerated, but who knows, maybe you will be the one to prove them true.
[ ] The smell of nature. It feels familiar, like a garden you have not seen in a long time appears when you close your eyes.
This Pokemon represents a Knight's Wisdom. Brute force is not always the solution; you know this well. Words and diplomacy are worth as much as a blade in hand and armor on your back. One may even be able to talk down the most savage of beasts, or perhaps find unlikely friends in the midst of their enemies.
Tomorrow, training will start.
You don't know if you can fall asleep today.
###
You are Aria. Long ago, that name had more than four letters. You stripped away all those layers and what you're left with is a song.
Purple hair frames your face, and though the sun is rarely harsh in Gildera, you find yourself of a darker complexion than most people around you. Your eyes follow suit, glaring in the sunlight and mixing red and blue.
Your Pokemon and your Skills share the same slot. As one grows in power, the other will too. Aspects are combinations of Skills, representing the content of your character and choices, not necessarily the things you can bring to the table.
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.
This is an Aspect of your Character. Something that you ARE, not something that you CAN DO. Wisdom and Authority make for a better noble that most. If you hone this aspect, perhaps you can forge it into a blade that can carve borders. It is missing a few letters, though. You should go find those.
Skill: Wisdom
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.
Skill: Authority [Competent]
Your voice commands respect. Your deeds will make people think twice before starting a fight with you. It is easier to convince others to follow you. These are all aspects of Authority, something you have inside of you whether you want it or not.
Skill: Righteousness
You are Righteous. Your path is true and the help you offer to people comes from a place of kindness and goodness. This does not make you a pushover, but rather someone who cannot stand people being helpless. You also know how to share that load, rather than take it all on your own.
Aria's Pokemon
Inana the Weavile
A proud Sneasel of Northern Gildera. She knows she's adorable and will let everyone know. Her biggest goal seems to be proving herself as strong and dependable.
Perun the Helioptile
A fighty Helioptile with a strong personality. He mocks Inana by copying her poses while behind her.
The Flamberg Growlithe
?: ??? the Growlithe: You are someone capable of great empathy and affection.
Skiddle, the Runaway Knight's Regret
Skiddle is your first partner as a Glastrier Knight. She's kind and happy, always ready to cheer you up and keep you company when you're down. She will keep you upright if you can barely walk, and she will warm you up at night if you're cold. That's the kind of Pokemon she is.
Or was.
Aria's Party
Sophia, Aria's Knight
A former knight of the Spectrier Order. You saved her life. She has sworn loyalty to you, and your cause, whichever cause that is or will be.
Ray, Follower of the Righteous Blade
A scam artist and priestess of Raikou. She is tiny, but her eyes look so old.
Precious Friends and Important Characters
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.
Leif, Spectrier Knight
A man who knows more than he lets on. Leif is a Spectrier Knight who used to be a villager in the Reichert Marquisate. He is easy to get along with and quite perceptive. He gifted you a Pokeball.
Enemies
The Cult of the Nameless God
Wilhelm the Fool: A man using two daggers. His partner is a Tauros. You beat him twice already.
Adelheid the Priestess: A woman using a long and thin sword. Her partner is an Ampharos that contains draconic energy.
Minor Characters and Acquaintances
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.
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
Led by Thalia the Murkrow, these four Murkow were your first battle, and rivals for berries. They're not that bad, though. They did save your life. Maybe one day you can come back for them.
Winning Vote: [X] The smell of nature. It feels familiar, like a garden you have not seen in a long time appears when you close your eyes.
Wisdom: 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 than the brute strength of ancient Elysian heroes.
Your Pokemon and your Skills share the same slot. As one grows in power, the other will too. Read the updated Character Sheet to find out more.
###
There is tension in the air, some of the senior knights talk with each other in hushed whispers. Drake is gone, again, to meet the Duke. Your training is now in the hands of those who walk the same path.
This means spending less time with Capella, however.
She tries not to show it, but you know it's bothering her. Her face tells a story that her lips are not, and the truth bleeds in the way her fingers pinch your clothes when you say goodbye in the morning. At first, it feels like jealousy again, but you realize it's more than that.
Somehow, it feels bad how easy it feels to say goodbye. It will not be for long, right? Surely Drake will give her a partner as well, soon.
For now, though, you have found yourself face to face with your new partner. Drake chose the little one for you, and she's already the third best thing that ever happened to you, right after Drake and Capella.
Skiddo, about as high as your knees right now, will grow taller with time. Brown and white fur, with a coat of leaves around its torso and across her back. The leaves look much like most of Gildera's winter-covered ones, the edges deep blue and cold to the touch. She smiles at you, dancing around your legs and getting to know you.
"A Partner needs a name," you say, repeating the words of the senior knight that has taken over your training for now. Skiddo stops, staring up. You notice the bottom of your cloak in her mouth, though she doesn't seem to be chewing on it. You bend down, touching the ground with your knees and gently taking the coat out of her mouth.
"Very well," you say. "It'll probably take a bit for me to get used to calling you by a name, so forgive me if I misspeak."
Skiddo bah's.
"From now on, you're—"
[ ] Goatliath
[ ] Skiddle
[ ] Grassoran
"To bond," you repeat the words again, whispering. "We're going to learn about each other, right, Skiddo?"
She bah's again, but this time, her horns are pushed against your belly. Despite their tough exterior, they feel warm. You can't help but smile, your hands shaking as you reach out and touch the leaves on her back. You smell the flowers of that garden—
And snap back to reality the moment that Skiddo slams into your belly with a force that knocks you onto the ground. You shake your head, wisps of those memories escaping you as you turn to forget them. You lie down on the hard dirt, patting your partner. She looks sorry, if only a little bit.
"How about some foraging," you suggest. "There's some tasty berries in the woods. Capella and I always go there when we have time."
You know that these partners of the knight aspirants are all hatched at the Order. They're trained to respond to easy commands, and given some training much like you have. In a way, there's not much difference between the two of you. The purpose that brings you together is the same.
The Aspirant Knight and the Aspirant Partner.
###
The woods are dense at the edges of Gildera, and the Caer settles itself under the mountains near the north. Though the country is large enough that the Duke's lands don't touch the borders without mountains, the Border Marquess' territory is barely a half week's journey away from the training grounds.
Even if the border between those two territories itself was in the woods, there are still patrols. While nobles are forbidden from fighting each other, some knights call it 'sparring' when their eyes meet and so far you've been spared the headaches.
Now with Skiddo, it's not impossible to end up in a fight.
You try not to be excited at the possibility.
Fortunately, the woods are empty, with only the occasional whisper of a wild pokemon that growls from the trees. You see various Bug types building their nests and webs, you see some Pidgey and Spearows, fighting over spots on the branches.
You see the blanket of green and blue leaves that hide the sky allows only little rays of sunlight to pierce through the veil, revealing weathered glades. Cold grass pierces out of the ground, sometimes too pointy to simply lie down and relax. The path takes you to a swing, half an hour of walking away. It hangs from a berry tree, with soft white fruit hanging off it. In the mouths of the common folk, they call them Mountain Fruit. To you, they're Winterberries.
They grow all year, but as the weather grows colder they become sweeter. Of course, that also makes them more attractive to certain species of Pokemon which stalk the woods in search of food.
Skiddo notices your eyes traveling up the tree. A Murkrow sits there, happily eating one of the fruit directly from the branch. It makes a content noise as it takes pecks. You usually try not to disturb anyone who looks so happy and in their own world, but the hungry look on Skiddo's face makes it impossible to say no.
"Alright," you say. "I imagine climbing something this steep isn't quite your expertise."
Skiddo bah's, hitting the tree with her horns. The Murkrow reacts, looking down at what shakes the tree. Its expression darkens.
You raise your hands. "Sorry," you say. Murkrow looks even more annoyed. "We just want some fruit ourselves, there's enough for everyone, right?"
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."
It grabs the fruit it was eating and throws it at you. Skiddo jumps up and catches it with its mouth, happy enough with the scraps that it doesn't quite notice that this is just the start. Murkrow raises its beak and shouts into the sky, the caw calling others to it. A group of four Murkrow look down at you, and you already know what they're saying.
'Look, some human is trying to take our fruit,' Murkrow #1 says, gesturing with its wing.
'Well,' says another, crossing its wings and closing its eyes as if thinking hard about something, 'if it wants fruit, we should share.'
All four turn toward you, and you lift Skiddo up. A short caw is all the warning you get before the Murkrows start plucking berries, flinging them across the clearing and at your head. You dodge the first volley, but Skiddo is not that light and you are not that quick on your feet.
One of the fruits hits your leg. It's so soft, it rips open from the force of the throw and ends up leaving all the sticky juices on your trousers. You resist the urge to curse, though you find yourself irritated.
The Murkrow will certainly stop following you once you're far enough, their aim is quite good but they don't look willing to move away from the tree to chase you down. Skiddo— growls?
She thrashes in your arms, forcing you to drop her. Landing on her feet, she immediately ignores your shout to come back and glares up at the murder of Murkrow. She says something, and again, you can imagine what colorful language she is using considering the Murkrows' reactions. One of them points with its wing, cawing back.
Skiddo bah's.
Three of the Murkrow start laughing, the other turns red, or as red as it can considering it lacks any visible skin. You've already forgotten your attempt to escape and watch the scene unfold with a curiosity that's impossible to put into words. The insulted Murkrow flies off the tree, coming down to the ground. It can fly, of course. It has an advantage over Skiddo, being able to avoid the ground and grass where your trusty partner is strongest, but somehow whatever Skiddo said must've provoked the Murkrow into facing her like a… bird.
Skiddo turns to you, giving you a smile and nodding. She's… asking for permission? You blink. Of course, it's— a battle! A Pokemon battle!
It's not just you who wants to see what your new partner can do!
You can't help it. Something in you jumps in joy and you raise Skiddo's Pokeball forward. "Skiddo, let's show them what we got!"
Skiddo's smile turns into a small grin that mirrors yours. She turns around, giving the Murkrow that waited its turn an appreciative nod. It nods back.
"Into the woods," you say, taking a step back. Skiddo follows your command without hesitation, disappearing in between the trees. Murkrow follows, as expected, flying up to see better. You point on the path of the Murkrow, to where it will be in a second rather than where it was. "There!"
You expect Skiddo to jump, which she does. Instead of coming from the ground, however, Skiddo uses one of the more crooked trees as leverage, jumping on top of it first and then kicking off it to slam into Murkrow. The bird crashes down, and Skiddo jumps around in joy at the successful attack.
"Stay focused," you say. For good reason. Though Murkrow was surprised for just a moment, it soon responds with its own attack. The beak gleams under the rays as it pecks her, making Skiddo grunt. "Your horns, Skiddo!"
Skiddo grunts again, turning her head despite the rapid attack and catching the beak with the tip of her horn. Murkrow pulls back in surprise, nursing its beak.
"Tackle it! Go all out!" you command. It's over so fast, but that's what battles can be like, right? Often, people will fall without much effort. In the same vein, Pokemon are not that much more durable when facing other Pokemon.
Skiddo slams into Murkrow again, catching it between its horns and continuing until it slams into a tree. Murkrow caws, bouncing off the tree and spinning around a few times in confusion before falling into the ground.
It cannot fight any longer. Skiddo won. You won. Skiddo runs over to you, jumping in place, and you reach out, catching it mid-jump to give her a hug. "Good job!"
You have to tell Capella! And Drake! And the senior knights! And everyone who will listen in the entire Caer! Maybe even the Duke, if you ever meet him!
You won. This is a feeling you're not going to forget soon. You spin around, Skiddo happily going along with the dance. Once you do, however, you find yourself staring at the three Murkrow that are left. Maybe you can fight all of them? Skiddo certainly needs the experience!
Skiddo bah's, and the Murkrow all stiffen on the branch. You raise one of your hands again, trying to keep Skiddo steady with the other.
"There is more than enough fruit for all of us," you say again, your voice tighter than before, and slightly breathless now that the tension leaves your body. "Right?"
The Murkrow group grabs about a dozen or so of the fruit and brings them down to you. You can swear at least one of them bows as it vanishes into the trees. The knocked out Murkrow wakes up, and doesn't make a noise as it flies away.
The fruit is so, so very sweet, but somehow, victory is even sweeter.
It's a familiar feeling, but this time the nostalgia does not hit you in the chest like a Wood Hammer.
Skiddo jumps out of your arms and grabs something from the ground. A feather that the Murkrow lost during the fight. She pokes you with it, and you take it from her mouth.
[ ] Make it an accessory. Your first true victory. One of many to come. You can adorn the pommel of your knife with it.
[ ] Make it an accessory. Capella will surely appreciate something like this, maybe a necklace?
[ ] Adorn Skiddo with it. Capella surely has the equipment to make it fit either on her horn or in her pelt.
###
"Prince in the East, let there be peace instead of war between us. If you become my sun, I will become your moon." - First Princess of the Skywrath Throne, Isabel, before her ascension to Empress of Sol.
The book in front of you is not old at all. Written only a few years ago, the way it presents recent history makes it sound ancient. As if Isabel used to be a hero in Elysium centuries ago, rather than a real person who lived two decades back.
It's a book you've used during lessons before, but this one is different.
A lesson for those who are meant to have a trial soon. You sit in an office with five others, staring at Captain Redwood, whose frame is no less imposing than that of Drake. Fortunately, he is much more open to showing emotions and most of what he shows is warmth.
He reminds you a bit of a red-haired Ursaring. You do not voice that out loud. The chairs are mismatched, and there's a smell of old wood that shows despite his status, the Captain does not spend money where it isn't necessary. You're fairly certain the table used to stand in the refectory.
But he did spend enough money for a nice tea set and tea leaves that you know are from across the border.
"In your own words, aspirants," he begins. "What is our relationship with the Empire of Sol?"
"Allies," one of the older aspirants says. The young man is tense, his entire body rigid and his hands in his lap rather than the cup on the table in front of him. "We are on friendly terms, our royal families are in-laws."
"Were in-laws," another says. She's your age, and while less tense, there's a certain disdain in her voice as she continues. "The princess is dead."
Your ears perk up. There's a certain set of people in Gildera who've never quite accepted the situation, though the separation of princess and empress coming from someone this young is jarring.
"That is true," Redwood says, nodding. "The late empress is gone, though her legacy remains and the peace she brokered with her marriage has held for twenty years now. So with that in mind, what stops them from breaking it?"
"Even before that time, Gildera's unique topography makes it impossible for an invading force to gain ground." The words leave your lips before you can stop yourself. The group turns to you, and Redwood nods again, urging you to continue. "Surrounded by mountains and dense forests, the resources required to stage a war here are far too costly for even an empire ten times our size. There's also the Skywrath Sovereign."
While the ground is protected by the people of Gildera, any attempt to fly over the mountains is met with storms and pain. The god of Gildera does not take kindly to invaders, and the royal family is under its protection.
"But don't they have their own god?" the young man asks. "Why would it not help them?"
"Why would it?" the girl asks. "An unjust royal demands land and it simply descends from the sky to do their bidding? Is your view of Them so narrow?"
You have the feeling she has strong opinions. You wonder what that's like.
"Regardless, Aria is right," Redwood says. Though his voice is not loud, silence reigns to let him speak. "This does not mean there haven't been attempts, wars were fought and though right now we are allied, we cannot be certain it will always be like this."
And there it is again, the tension of the past few days now visible on the set jaws and wide eyes of those young men and women around you. You try not to follow suit, but it's hard. It is so easy to forget in between the smiles and friendly competitions that you're all technically soldiers. Knights trained for a purpose.
It's naive to assume you'd only ever know peace. Even without war, the world is full of conflict. Poachers and other criminals, wild pokemon that are provoked into attacking people, and even natural disasters—
"You six are the latest who have received a partner," Redwood says. "And so, it is my duty to prepare you for the inevitable time you will have to fight. Pokemon vary in strength, and humans have limits that they will reach. Working together is the only way to fulfill your duty."
"Yes, sir!" you shout together with the group.
"While nobody knows what your trial is until that fateful day," he says, making you perk up, "preparing you for it means preparing your partner for it. You will receive tasks, and I will check your knowledge with questions. You are not some grunts, there is no excuse for inexperience and lack of education."
But, you already know your task, so—
You blink.
"Every knight who is allowed to call themselves one must have the wisdom, courage, and power to back it all up." He stands, towering over the group. "While no one has to be an expert in every field, our expectations are high, as they were with your predecessors."
"Yes, sir," the group says in tandem once more.
"To have an eye for this is also important. How do you recognize courage? Wisdom? Is it so easy to grasp?"
Your shoulders tense when he turns to you. He liked your answer, so now he's going to call you up. It's not the first time you've seen a look like that on a teacher's face.
"The princess' decision to leave her homeland to marry the crown prince, imagine she were a knight, what aspect does it embody?"
You tilt your head, trying to ignore the indignant scoff at your side as the royal ass-kisser finds herself annoyed at the audacity of the question.
"It is wise," you say, "to put peace above your own happiness. It takes courage to leave behind all you knew. And it is powerful, both being in the position and the privilege to use it for negotiation, and ascending the most powerful throne on the continent."
The scoff turns into a low growl, which sounds somewhat like an approving kind of growl in a way that makes no sense to anyone but you. Redwood does not say whether you are correct or not. He does not need to, because you know it is correct to you.
"If she embodies all of those," the other girl in the group speaks up. She sits at the far back, her hair in a ponytail, her eyes fixed on the page of the book. "Is it right to say she wasn't a knight?"
Redwood smiles. You find yourself nodding along. It's a valid question. There's formality in titles, there's ambition, audacity, and austerity. But in the end, the truth is that they're only titles. If one walks the path of a knight, keeping the paths clear of wild pokemon so people could safely travel, keeping the villages safe so that the farmers and workers could do their jobs in peace—
Keeping the kingdom safe, using a ring on your finger and a crown on your head.
"You're right," Redwood says. "It's nothing more than a formal title, especially in times of peace. So a knight is as a knight does, which is why I have a task for you."
"A task, sir?" One of the more quiet members asked. Their eyes are not fixed on the man's face, but on the floor.
"Find yourself together in groups." Redwood nods at all of you. "The Caer will be mostly empty soon. The senior knights are on the way to the Duke's estate for an important meeting. The villages around the Caer will be left without protection, and so we're going to trust you more than most aspirants."
"Not the juniors, sir?" Another young man asks.
"They'll assist, of course," he says, smiling through his beard. "And there are captains around that will keep watch, like me. That said, it's a bit unprecedented to leave the school so empty so it's going to be unconventional. A group of three is going to count as a junior knight for the purpose of these tasks."
While they wouldn't trust aspirants to do anything before passing their trial and becoming proper knights, they're now throwing that out of the window? There's only two people who can make that decision. The Duke is too hands off, so it must have been Drake.
You shake your head. Why doubt the man who's proven to have the greatest wisdom in all Gildera? You cross your arms, leaning back.
"There's some villages which have reported an increase in wild pokemon attacks," Redwood says. "Normally they try to avoid people, but desperation turns even the most skittish of Ratata into a force to be reckoned with. While the juniors investigate the source, we'll have you prove our expectations of your knighthood by keeping watch over the villages."
It is hard to keep your cool, especially with the excitement of the other five aspirants around you. Everyone in the Caer is looking for an opportunity to prove themselves. This is a much more important task than most others get even after receiving the title and the sword.
The book in front of you makes for dry reading, but you see the point.
There is more to courage, power, and wisdom than the most obvious of aspects that embody a knight. Your fist clenches in your lap.
The pokeball on your belt shakes slightly. The tension leaves your body, and you give it a pat, asking Skiddo to stay inside. It's not the time.
A group…
Well, you have to pick two members, so you might as well make the best of it. These are not strangers, after all. They're your peers, even if the intimidating presence of Redwood made you forget their names for a moment.
You don't know what exact tasks you will have to take care of in the village with your group, so you may as well pick the ones you want to get to know or the ones who you think can complement you and Skiddo:
[ ] Adrian, the third son of a third son of a small noble family. Without any expectations, you know the boy ended up in the Order to find his own path in life. He's not very bright, but makes up for it with his heart and an attitude that makes you try your best as well. His partner is a Spearow.
[ ] Pamela, a fan of the royals. She's never been the kind of person to mind her tongue, and that has gotten her into trouble more than once. Her family lives in the capital, and that's about most of the information anyone can get out of her. Her partner is a Snubbul nicknamed 'Isa'.
[ ] Bryan, one of the tallest of his age. He doesn't speak much, which makes him easy to get along with. His father is one of the captains in the Order, though he never received any preferential treatment. His partner is a Croagunk.
[ ] Ruby, they're a bit shy. You don't think they have ever looked you in the eye when speaking in all the years you've crossed paths. All you know is that in the earlier years when you still studied at the normal school their test results were always above everyone else's. Their partner is a Buneary.
[ ] Lissy, who has a rivalry with Capella. You don't know what the rivalry is about or who started with what, but she is always seen butting heads with her. She's one of the better physical fighters among the aspirants. Her partner is a Scraggy.
Thank u to all my friends who helped with this update.
###
Winning Vote:
[X] Skiddle
[X] Adorn Skiddo with it. Capella surely has the equipment to make it fit either on her horn or in her pelt.
[X] Ruby, they're a bit shy. You don't think they have ever looked you in the eye when speaking in all the years you've crossed paths. All you know is that in the earlier years when you still studied at the normal school their test results were always above everyone else's. Their partner is a Buneary.
[X] Lissy, who has a rivalry with Capella. You don't know what the rivalry is about or who started with what, but she is always seen butting heads with her. She's one of the better physical fighters among the aspirants. Her partner is a Scraggy.
####
The group you find yourself with can not be more different. Being the first to ask let you choose the ones you wanted to take on the task with, and now you have teamed up with Ruby and Lissy.
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. But Ruby makes themselves small. In their heart, they lack courage to face the world, and you can sympathize with that. The world is full of things that scare you, full of things that make no sense, and full of people who carry no kindness in their heart.
"T-thank you," they say, stuttering just for a moment before gathering themselves. "For partnering up with me."
You open your mouth to say that you don't require thanks for something like this, but Skiddle has already grabbed a mouthful of your cloak. You settle on a short "You're welcome".
Red hair and red eyes. Their parents weren't that creative when picking their name, but somehow you can't imagine someone with such striking features having another name. For a moment you want to ask if there are other gemstones in their family.
They smile, and you find yourself smiling back.
In stark contrast, the girl that stands at the edge of the arena makes for a grim sight.
Lissy is possibly one of the tallest members of the aspirants. She towers over you by a solid head, her uniform modified slightly in ways you know most other knights look down on. She needs 'the freedom of movement' she says, 'to kick ass and take names'.
You don't know what names she wants to take, but so far you know she kicks a lot of ass. The practice swords are heavy, but she swings the two-handed one like it's made of parchment.
And you realize, though you've spent so much time with all kinds of different aspirants, that you barely know each other. You don't know why, if it's the focus on your own tasks and improvement, or if you've failed to develop an interest in people that aren't Drake and Capella—
But there's nothing stopping you now. These are people you will fight side by side with. Lissy approaches, her ponytail bouncing left and right as she adjusts the weight of her training sword over her shoulder.
"Hey, favorite child," Lissy calls out. You blink, tilting your head. "Yeah, I mean you. Why'd you pick me?"
"I'll answer that if you answer my question first," you say, keeping your voice even.. "Favorite child?"
"You're one of Commander Drake's, right?" Lissy asks. You can tell she means nothing by it. To her, it's not an insult, or some sort of spiteful remark. It's a matter of fact, and you cannot really deny it. "One of the two, the favorite child."
"He is the one responsible for me, yes," you say. "And I was taken in by him with Capella, but I don't know if that makes us his favorites. He's stern and fair."
Lissy shrugs. "Whatever you say, I know Pelly gets real mad when I say this, but I guess you're a bit more coolheaded."
Pelly, of course. Capella hates every nickname, any attempt to shorten her name is met with a fight-and-fight reflex. Lissy is strong, and there's no doubt in your mind that fights with her do not end well.
"I can't agree or disagree," you say, crossing your arms. Ruby looks ready to jump behind a dummy to hide when Lissy spoke up, but has calmed down when you didn't rise to her challenge. "Commander Drake is my benefactor. He helped me when I was in a bad place, and I work every day to repay the debt I owe him."
Lissy thinks for a moment, then grins. Her teeth look dangerous. "I think we'll get along well, favorite child."
"Aria," you say, raising your hand. You try to smile as well, but it feels stiff and wrong to force it. She takes it, giving you a nod. "Please take care of me."
Ruby's hand joins on top of the handshake. You turn to them, giving a nod when you notice they're about to pull back.
"We don't have long to really get to know each other, the carriages will pick us up tomorrow," Lissy says. She lets go of your hand, turning to her own partner. "Perseus, come here and introduce yourself.
Perseus the Scraggy walks up with slow steps. His eyes are not on you, but on Skiddle, giving her a once over. Skiddle, in return, meets his gaze without trepidation. Perseus looks like the typical Scraggy, yellow all over and with a red belly. His eyes, however, matched the dark blue of Lissy. After a moment of thought, he reaches out his own hand much like you did to Lissy earlier.
Skiddle meets him with her horn.
Then, he turns to the Buneary that is hiding behind Ruby.
"Opal," Ruby says quietly. "These are our friends, you can say hello."
Opal the Buneary dares to reveal herself. She takes a few steps forward, red eyes shining in the sunlight. Though her fur is the typical brown, you notice that her ears have small streaks of blue and green in the yellow fluff.
Opal hides its face behind the ears, but still reaches out with her paws to greet Skiddle and Perseus. Skiddle bah's happily. Scraggy grunts in approval. It seems there's not going to be much of an issue on that front. Though Ruby and Lissy are practically opposites, you have the feeling this choice was a good one. If not for personalities, then the way your partners get along.
"For me, there's only one way to get to know someone else," Lissy says, the sword on her shoulders twitching as she flexes her arm. "Aria, let's spar!"
Trainers usually have to fight it out with each other while their Pokemon fight, and whoever loses will certainly lose the Pokemon battle as well, unable to observe the fight from the outside and give commands.
You don't refuse. Even if you want to, your legs have already carried you to the side of the arena in front of the practice weapons. You want to match her, and your hand grasps the two-handed practice blade. It is heavy in your hand—
[ ] … but not unfamiliar. It's your weapon of choice as well, for all the advantages and disadvantages it brings. To wait for the right moment, a single miscalculation could lose you a fight. It is the weapon Drake held when he found you in that ditch.
[ ] … not quite what you're used to. You prefer the normal longsword, switching grips, either one or two handed. The longsword is the weapon of the brave and strong, to face one's enemy takes a Pyroar's heart. It is the weapon you held when Drake found you in that ditch.
[ ] … not really your cup of tea. Your second hand is for a shield. The other wields a short blade that makes up for its lack in range with speed and dexterity. Capella was carrying these back when you traveled together to the Caer.
You shake your head. All aspirants study every weapon, though of course everyone has their preferences. Though you know Lissy is by far the strongest in your group, she's not fighting you as a show of force.
To someone like her, a fight is a conversation.
Ruby and the three Pokemon go to the side. Skiddle bah's in encouragement. Perseus says something, and she turns to him and bah's right in his ear. He grunts back, and she bah's louder.
There's little reason to delay. You raise the sword, and watch as she does the same. Your forms are mirrors, and so are the first movements. With two steps, you both cross the distance toward each other. With a single swing, the swords meet in the middle with such a loud crack, it makes Ruby shout in surprise. Your hands are numb.
But she does not relent. While the swords are knocked away from each other, her grip tightens, her right foot sliding over the ground as her upper body adjusts for another swing. You can't do the same, squaring up and spreading your feet apart, lowering your center of gravity—
You raise the sword just time. She swings with a force that makes you wonder if she's even human, kicking up dust and whipping the air around her into a frenzy. You block with the broad side of the blade.
Fat lot of good that did. You grunt as you're forced back, your entire body sliding meters away as your arms shake from the impact.
"You good?" she asks. You shake your right arm, feeling the numbness give way to pain as the cold air touches the new bruises on your hands.
"Never been better," you say. You close your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. You remember the Murkrow. You remember the joy of winning a fight, truly winning something so much more important than a spar.
And somehow you would hate to lose right now when Skiddle did such a great job fighting for you.
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.
"Pelly once said you have a heart twice the size of mine," Lissy said. The exchange of blows has given way to a stalemate. A moment to catch your breath. "I'm inclined to agree."
"She also said," you say, stopping to cough for a second, "that you have nothing in your head but swords."
"Yeah, and?" she asks, unapologetic and almost proud of that summary. "I want to become a legend, Aria. And I will not stand here and apologize for wanting that!"
You snort. "To the next Kael then."
She takes a few steps back, the distance between you allowing both of you to recover. Skiddle and Perseus are cheering from the side, their cries growing louder and louder. Even Opal joins in. Ruby is still looking worried. You notice that some of the knights on the other training grounds have started to watch the spar. You swear you catch a glimpse of green hair in a window.
But you have to focus.
"The Sunsinger will call my name in the Elysian fields!" Lissy boasts. Somehow, with the cold sun above you shining those blue rays through frosted clouds, it does not seem so farfetched. "So come, Aria, this might be your only chance to face a future legend!"
You can't help it. When you see that joy on her face, your earlier forced smile is already forgotten. You smile back, showing just as many teeth.
You hear the words of the teacher clearly.
You change your grip. You aren't sure if this kind of move would even be possible with a real sword, but you force your body to obey. You force the sword to obey.
You drag the sword across the ground with both hands, running up to her. She swings again, but this time you're able to dodge. The blunt blade passes to your side, the tip sinking into the dirt, forcing her to move out of the way as you swing up diagonally. For just one moment, you let go of the sword—
—Skiddle uses a crooked tree as leverage.
Her attempt to dodge leaves the flat of the blade toward you, still low enough to the ground as she tries to raise it.
You step onto her sword. The audacity of the movement stuns Lissy for just a moment. Jumping up, you reach out and change your grip once again.
You stop the blade's ascent and whip it down. She can't dodge this time, forced to block just as you were moments ago. She lifts the sword in that short moment, for once holding it up with both hands. The momentum and angle help, her footing not quite as solid as she wants it to be. The blades meet again, and a crack like thunder echoes over the entire arena. She's forced to her knees to avoid eating dirt. You find yourself unable to hold the grip on the sword, watching helplessly as it flies through the air and lands behind you.
You land on the ground again, ready to receive the finishing blow. Lissy starts laughing, throwing her sword to the side.
"Holy shit," she says, laughing even louder. "My arms are numb, you're a menace."
She lies. You know if she really wants to, she can keep going, but this wasn't a fight. It was just sparring, and she has achieved her purpose.
You collapse onto your knees as well, your vision blurring. There's not enough air in your lungs, and trying to steady your breathing is a herculean task. Ruby rushes over, flasks of water in their hands. You try to take it, but your fingers won't keep hold of it.
Attempts of saying 'thank you' come out garbled. Lissy laughs at you, and you can't help but join in. It starts slow and becomes a disgusting mix of coughs and giggles. Ruby looks lost for a moment, but there must be something in the air, because they join in later.
Skiddle bah's, and Perseus shrugs his shoulders.
###
With that out of the way, Ruby invites you two to the kitchens. They help out there a lot, they say, and that means they also have a key to enter after the normal hours.
It doesn't take that long to whip up a meal. It's impressive, for someone who seems so maladjusted to fighting, their ability to wield a knife compares to that of your—
You shake your head. Skiddle looks very excited at the prospect of more food. You know from your own studies about her species that she doesn't actually need to eat that much as long as there's sunlight and water around, but Skiddle likes to eat for the sake of eating.
Not that you're unfamiliar with that. The smell of spices makes your stomach growl much harder than usual. Lissy has been passing time by letting Perseus punch her hands, then swiping at him to force him to dodge.
"Ruby," you say, ignoring the jump the mere mention of their name causes. "Are you sure you want to be a knight?"
The question is perhaps callous. Certainly, it's unexpected enough that even Lissy stops in her tracks and looks over to you, Perseus' fist in her cheek after that moment of inattention.
"I'm sorry," you say, perhaps too quickly. It's a question you have trouble answering sometimes, but in the context toward someone like Ruby, it is clear what your words are truly asking.
"There's a village," they say, and their voice neither quiet nor loud. "At the edge of the kingdom, to the west."
"Regis' Pass." You know it. Few don't. Back in the days of the Gilderan founding, the people of the lands to the west did not bow down to the first queen. The queen did not want to steal lands, so she granted them citizenship and promised her armies will never touch the mountains where they live.
Unfortunately, that agreement lasted only for three more rulers. While the modern royal family has dialed back laws and expansions, returning to the days of their founding mother to keep the peace at the western border—
Damage has been done that no amount of time can heal.
"If you're from that village, that question doesn't change, but the meaning does," you continue. "The Order may be under the Duke, but the Duke still obeys the Gilderan royal family."
"Ambitions do not end with a blade in hand." For the first time ever, you can see Ruby's eyes clearly. They reflect the candlelight, a red so deep it reminds you of an autumn sunrise. "If I become stronger than I am now, if my work becomes indispensable to the crown—"
"You'll be a noble," Lissy says, scoffing. "With land, that the crown is sworn to protect. That no other noble can exploit."
Ruby nods. Suddenly, calling Ruby fearful or jumpy feels wrong. The image in your head flips, and you come to realize, more so now than in all those years before, that there are myriad reasons to pick up the sword. Even reasons that you haven't even fathomed.
"Suddenly, my reasons feel inadequate." You don't feel much appetite anymore, but Ruby still sets the plate in front of you and you'll never refuse a free meal.
"What are your reasons," Lissy asks, polite enough not to speak with a full mouth. "You don't really talk much with anyone that's not Pelly, so nobody knows what you're about."
There's no doubt in your mind as to your answer: "I want to repay the debt I owe Commander Drake."
"Well, that is kinda boring," Lissy says. Ruby nods for a moment before shaking their head way too fast. "What, without ambition, you're just going through the motions? Drake's not gonna live forever—"
"Lissy!" Ruby shouts.
"So when is that debt repaid? Are you going to live for someone else the entire time?"
You draw your lips into a thin line. Again, your image of Lissy begins to shift a little. She's not quite the dumb brute that Capella presents her as, but short bursts of insights don't make a genius yet.
Nevertheless, the question is completely valid.
"I don't know," you admit. "When he brought me here, I had given up on a lot of things. I didn't expect to get this far."
"Everyone got their own reasons," Lissy says, shrugging, "but those got to be your reasons. Did the commander ever say he expects you to follow in his footsteps?"
You shake your head. "It is my reason, but I don't disagree. I know that there's much more out there than the Order. I want to see more of Gildera. I want to keep staying with Skiddle and winning fights. I want to make a name for myself. All of these are me."
Lissy hits the table with her fist. She smiles at you. "Well, until you find something big, that's more than enough, ain't that right, Ruby?"
"Y-yes!" Ruby says, shouting to meet Lissy's cadence. "We're g-going to protect people soon, that's one step of many!"
The three partners shout in agreement. You don't raise your voice, but you find your heart beats louder.
If you stand for nothing, Aria, what will you fall for?
###
It's already dark by the time you return to the dorms. Your arms still ache from the sparring, though Ruby's meal is far above what the kitchens usually produce and almost makes up for it again.
You open the door slowly, careful not to wake anyone. Two of the beds are empty, though, and the third—
"Did you have fun?" Capella asks, sitting on the bed. You can barely make out her face in the darkness.
"Yes," you say. That must be the wrong answer. Even in the darkness, you can see her frown. You try again. "No?"
"They're at the camp training," Capella answers the unasked question when your eyes move to the empty beds again. "So we have time to talk for once."
"For once?" you ask, tilting your head. You know that tone, and you're certain your night has barely started. "We just saw each other this morning, Capella."
"Barely," she says, standing up. She walks up to you, and you notice it. The way her skin has paled even more, the way her shoulders shake. There is anger in her every movement, and for once you do not understand anything.
People are hard, but not Capella. Capella is easy. You know how to calm her down when she gets too excited, you know the foods that make her happy, you know the gestures that she appreciates. For four years, she's been your constant companion.
So why is that feeling in your gut telling you to dodge.
She does not lash out, though the way her hair bounces when she turns her head away makes your teeth clench.
"I talked to Drake," she says, "before he left. I asked him… I asked him why he didn't give me a partner yet. He said it's not the time."
"That's what he always says."
"That's what he always said," she corrects. "Until it's time for you, until he lets you do all the things we promised to do together."
You open your mouth. You close it. You think, and open it again, your hands moving up to grasp the air as if the right words will fall out of thin air. Skiddle bounces in the ball, snapping you back to the conversation.
"I don't know what I can say here that will make you happy," you admit. Capella reels back, her right hand reaching for her left arm. You want to reach out, soften her grip on her own arm as you see the nails dig deep into the fabric. She takes another step back, as if reading your mind.
"I'm not some problem to solve, Aria," she says, and for the first time you find yourself speechless at how bitter your name sounds in her mouth. "You said you'd always be by my side, but now you're leaving me behind. Just like my family did."
Unlike you, Capella has never made a secret out of her past. A rich family, a terrible accident, and an uncle who gambled the entire inheritance away before Capella's boarding school kicked her out due to the lack of tuition.
It's a story you've heard so often, you can recite it from memory, and therein lies a difference between the two of you. Capella claws her way out of that mire and stands tall, using her history as a stepping stone to motivate herself; you run from it.
And you will keep running from those eight letters of which you retain only four.
"A day or two, a month or many, a year longer." You try to be diplomatic, but it's difficult. Capella isn't looking for a solution that you can offer, she's not even looking for words of comfort. She wants to be upset, and it is her right to feel that way. "Whether you have a partner now or later, that changes nothing between us. Drake trusts us."
"He trusts you enough to give you a partner," she says, her grip loosening enough that you breathe out in relief, "and then you are on lesson after lesson without me. Training without me. And the distance between us keeps growing, I can't even spend time with him because the second he bestows that gift on you he's gone again."
Capella always takes it hard when Drake is gone, today is no different. Usually you find yourself being her focus for that time, but this week you can't be. This week, you have to fulfill your duty. And in that duty, you try to see the best.
"We're more than what we are to each other," you say. Capella's mouth shuts so quickly, her teeth snap together and make a sound. "I've been friendly with people around the academy, but I've never made friends. Maybe this is the time for us to meet others, expand our horizons."
"Fuck," she says, and it's by far the harshest word she curses with. "Fuck."
Again, you don't know what to say, so you say nothing.
"What makes us different?" she asks, knowing you can't truly answer a question like that. Her broken voice. Her pleading eyes. "Why does Drake trust you and not me, even though I've been with him longer?"
You open your mouth, and close it again. You have suspicions, but without Drake here to confirm them you can't tell for certain if that behavior is born from his assumptions about your past.
You turn around, shuddering a breath as you speak up. Whatever you say now will never build trust between you, because as much as you consider Capella the closest person to your heart—
There are things you cannot share with her, just as there are things she cannot share with you.
What lie will you tell?
[ ] You used to be a maid for a family. Their son was not of good character, and when the rumors of his behavior toward servants grew so did your desire to run.
[ ] You grew up in an orphanage. There was no future for you there, so you had to leave as soon as you could walk upright.
[ ] The village you lived in was destroyed by a wild Pokemon attack. Nobody survived, and you were left fending for yourself.
AN: Thank you to @Magery and @Skippy for checking over this update. It was mostly written by the time the votes closed so surprise! Fast update!!
Winning Vote:
[X] You used to be a maid for a family. Their son was not of good character, and when the rumors of his behavior toward servants grew so did your desire to run.
[X] … not really your cup of tea. Your second hand is for a shield. The other wields a short blade that makes up for its lack in range with speed and dexterity. Capella was carrying these back when you traveled together to the Caer.
###
You whisper a lie. You think. You hope. Your words leave you so easily and your voice dies in your throat.
You remember—
A dark forest. A heavy rain. You remember his hand pushing you out of the way and your body rolling down a cliffside. You remember waking up and your leg not obeying.
You remember the longsword he used to have by his side at all times next to you, and using it as a crutch to get away.
Your name echoes across the valley and you do not respond. It is no longer your name. It was left in that ditch, with your faith, drowned in that blood.
"Run and never turn back."
You did.
###
Capella is not there when you wake up in the morning. Instead, you find yourself with a small bag on the bed and a note from her. It reads 'For Skiddle'.
You open it and find the Murkrow feather delicately wrapped around a small bracelet. It's made from strong yet supple leather with a beautifully worked pewter buckle and several notches , perfect to fit even a growing Skiddo whose horns might snap a normal ring.
Whether this means that the argument you had is now over or not, you can't say. It pains you that Capella isn't here to see you off, that you will not see her for two weeks or longer depending on the situation in the village.
Maybe she needs a partner to keep her grounded when nobody else is around. You will speak to Drake about it. She deserves it, she's stronger than you in so many ways.
You grab the Pokeball from your waist and hold it up. Skiddle comes out, happily walking around the room in search of food. You whistle low, making her pay attention. Her eyes start shining in excitement when she sees the horn ring in your hand.
She walks up to you and stops moving, though her short leaf tail shakes up and down. You bend down, pressing the opening of the ring against her horn and pushing it on.
"There," you say. The ring fits perfectly, of course. The feather shines slightly, creating a stark contrast even against the already dark horns of your caprine companion. You feel your bond growing closer. "Here."
You look around in Capella's drawer and find a simple polished bronze mirror. You don't own one, of course, there's no need for someone like you to keep up appearances. After all, no one expects anything of you and you don't expect anything from anyone.
Skiddle, however, looks absolutely delighted. Seeing herself in the mirror with the accessory sparks such a moment of joy in her, it makes you feel all warm inside too. You think about getting her more accessories. Maybe it's better not to spoil her too much.
Skiddle bites into your trousers.
###
It smells cold.
More so than the Caer's woods. The trees here have frost on them, and there are no clouds so the sun shines through with such a clarity that you can see reflections of it in every drop of ice that sits on those blue and green leaves.
It reminds you of home, but then again, everything does lately.
"I get it," Lissy says. "Since we started training, we've never been further than a day or two of foot travel from the Caer."
You nod. "It's been a while, yes."
Gildera's geography makes for a strange kingdom. In between pockets of civilization, of which there are many ranging from villages all the way to cities, everything off-road is covered in green, yellow and white. Between the mountains where the rain is trapped, nature takes its natural course, letting Gildera cultivate all manner of crops and rice. While the king had many ancestors who cared little about the world, in a lot of ways this is also a defense mechanism.
Armies would have to travel through all of it to reach a fight, traps between trees, forces that surround them as they fail to pay attention. Not to mention the wild Pokémon of the forests themselves, who did not take kindly to armies interloping in their domain, and had long since crushed the ambitions of more than a few over-ambitious princes. It was not just the border that was uniquely situated to stop an invasion, the entire country was a cage.
It kept Gilderans in, and it kept the unwanted people out.
Fortunately carriages of the Glastrier knights are drawn by a Musdale. Not only could they handle the roughest terrain, they're also quite capable of moving at impressive speeds on the main roads allowing you to take a trip that might take a week on foot in a mere three days stopping only to give you rest.
"What's the name of the village again?" Lissy asks. Ruby shuts their book, face scrunching up in thought.
"I think it was Cerulean? Or something like that?"
"Caroleo," you say. Ruby thinks again, then nods. "It's near a steep cliff and valley, you don't need to travel through it on the way to the Caer so it's not well known."
"How'd you know it then?" Lissy asks.
"I study geography as a hobby," you say, shrugging. Lissy makes a disgusted noise, as if the mere idea of memorization is already enough of a struggle. Ruby takes your words at face value, at least. "Drake usually has a story about any village or town he's ever visited, and he's visited every town and village."
"Yeah, he's old," Lissy says. "Of course he's visited everything. I heard he used to be captain of the royal guard."
"A long time ago," you say. More than twenty, if you remember right. He stopped and moved on to the Duke's Order after the first princess got married. "He doesn't talk much about those days, the one thing I remember clearly is how much he hated court politics."
"A man after my own heart." Lissy crosses her arms, leaning back against her seat. "Wake me up when we're there, I'll take a na-urgh!"
Her attempt to sleep ends quickly as the carriage stops suddenly, sending her off the seat and forehead first toward you. Fortunately for you, you can just move out of the way. Unfortunately for her, the seats in the carriage are not made for comfort in mind. Her head bangs against the wooden wall, and you can see a small cut on her forehead start to bleed.
"We're there," you say, trying and failing to keep your voice even. What little humor is in the situation at least makes Ruby laugh first, allowing you to join in while Lissy nurses the world's largest bruised ego.
You step out first, leaving Ruby to apply some first aid to the future legend. Your eyes take a moment to take it all in. It's not quite as small of a village as one would expect from the descriptor. It is indeed built close to a cliffside, letting you see the treetops in the valley from where your camp is likely going to be set up.
Dozens of houses stand here and there, the order likely set at random rather than planned meticulously. There's a windmill, there's a large farm, there's some domesticated Pokemon that look happy enough though somewhat stressed out.
You take a deep breath, the air is colder here. The wind is stronger. You can hear a song on the lips of every plant as the air travels through the valley, calming your heart.
Raymond, your carriage driver and a sergeant of the Order of some thirty year's service, is fussing over Bertrand, the hulking Mudsdale who has pulled your carriage along for three days as if it were no more than a tinker's cart. Betrand is snorting happily at the attention, his breath steaming in the chill air, and from his expression he seems to think that carrots and oats should be in the near future.
Captain Silvia does not seem too bothered. She's dressed in the usual uniform, though her sleeves carry the sign of the captains. The woman who you know as the 'Lightning Blade' leans against her sword at her side, hair that sits somewhere between yellow and green formed into bolts across her back and face. Her eyes are of the same color, though one brighter than the other.
On her shoulder sits Bolt, her Raichu, the fur on its face and belly much darker than the usual specimen, fading from a bright brown into a bark-like complexion.
Standing at attention behind her is Atlas, the Mudsdale she has been riding the past few days and an experienced war mount. He is currently engaged in a staring contest with Bolt. You do not know who's winning, but you can absolutely say you would not.
It takes a bit for Lissy and Ruby to come out. You don't know where Ruby managed to get first aid equipment from while sitting inside the carriage, but Lissy's forehead is covered in bandages. You know that she could have just bound it and been done with it, but now she stands here wearing the bandages like a headband.
The leftover bits are tied behind her head and flow in the wind, making her look absolutely ridiculous. You breathe out of your nose. Maybe you're wrong. Maybe there is such a thing as a bad pick. Closing your eyes, you count to ten.
"Listen up," Silvia says, her eyes focusing on Lissy, "I need you to remember that this is an exception. One that will not be made again if you don't manage to keep yourselves out of trouble."
Three days in enclosed spaces do wonders for new friendships. You're certain if it wasn't for Ruby's disposition you and Lissy would have become enemies instead.
It also helps Ruby to speak with Captain Silvia, who's been your guide and superior on this mission. They only stutter once every twenty sentences or so.
"No, the reason you're here is because we don't have enough manpower to cover each other due to the seniors being summoned." Silvia crosses her arms, smiling. "Of course, this doesn't mean you're expected to sit around and do nothing. Avoid trouble where you can, but if there's a situation that requires your assistance, I demand you help them whether you have two stripes on your arm or a single one."
You nod, as does Ruby. Lissy looks ready to run away from the speech, but restrains herself. The fact that she's forced to actually wear sleeves likely adds to her discomfort. You can see the threads struggle to stay in place as she reaches for her now very real Skarmory-steel sword on her back. She hates drawing it from there, but even with her size there's no proper other way for her to carry it.
You look down to your waist, finding your own weapon there. On your back, the shield that you've received gives you comfort. Capella's hand presses against it in spirit, you know that no matter where you are, and what kind of argument you've had, you can count on her support.
"I know you've been briefed on the situation here, so I'll keep it short," she says. "A few weeks ago, wild Pokemon began moving away from their usual nests and closer to the village. Soon after, they started to attack. This is unusual, of course."
She holds up a map. It depicts the village in abstract, no buildings are displayed but the entrances are marked around the edges.
"The junior knights are currently in the forests trying to find the source of the disturbance," she continues. "So you need to stay in the village and keep an eye out. Anything suspicious and you call for help, anyone out of place, you call for help."
She points her longsword at Lissy.
"And if there's any trouble at all," Silvia says. "Then you come and find me, I'll assist the junior knights in their search. Bolt here—" she wiggles her arm, flopping the lazy Raichu around. "Will be able to find me immediately, so just tell him to look for me."
Bolt jumps down, saying hello with a salute that can't quite reach his forehead. "Chu!"
"Why does she have it out for you?" you whisper. Lissy shrugs.
"She's my mentor," Lissy says, her voice not even close to low enough to avoid being overheard. "She knows I'm trouble."
"Damn right," Silvia says, stabbing her sword back into the ground. "So don't get dragged along with her nonsense, this isn't the time for fun and games. This is not some test or minor task, this is a mission to keep the Duke's subjects safe.This includes you. If there's anything dangerous you can't handle, you find the closest building and hide inside, barring the doors."
"Yes, ma'am!" You shout as a group. Lissy is stubborn and impulsive, but once given a task you know she will fulfill it with the grace and dignity of a knight.
"Can we set up camp now, I'm starving," Lissy says. You wince. You are certain she will fulfill it with the grace and dignity of a knight. "Come on Silvia."
"Captain Silvia," the woman in front of you insists. You clench your fists. It is likely Lissy will fulfill it with—
You can't take it anymore. You reach out and grab Lissy by the arm, dragging her away to grab the supplies from the carriage and find a barn or something to set up your camp. Ruby follows, and Silvia gives you an appreciative nod.
"Whereabouts should we stable the Mudsdales, and who might be we asking about fodder, ma'am? The lads have been pulling these three days and I fancy they could use a bit of a rest and a meal." Raymond asks, speaking up for the first time.
You look at Captain Silvia, and she simply smiles and looks back at you. Oh right, training exercise.
Bertrand snorts again, and Atlas joins in this time, before both looking at you, expectantly..
Skiddle bah's in the Pokeball.
You count to ten again. Then to a hundred.
Your bond with Skiddle has improved. She is the best of you, and you notice just how much it helps to have her around. She keeps you from getting lost in your thoughts and ignoring the world around you.
Wisdom [Student] has become Wisdom [Competent]. While not every improvement will come with a trait, the first one always does:
[ ] Awareness. The world that surrounds you is always moving. Whether they're fields of battle or people you don't understand well, you come to grasp them easier.
[ ] Dexterity. There's a lot to learn from Skiddle. Basic biology aside, there is nothing stopping you from learning techniques that come so natural to her and add them to your repertoire.
[ ] Faith. The gods walk the earth. The Skywrath Sovereign, the Solar Lion, even the stories of the old Dark King have more truth than fiction. Knowledge is power, and you know a lot.
###
The village is loud. Though the situation in the forests and fields has been dangerous for weeks, the villagers do not seem to mind, or perhaps the presence of the Order has given them more confidence to walk with their heads held high.
You and Lissy find yourself not in a tent, but in the home of the village elder, Louis. At least you think he is, the village doesn't seem to have that much of a hierarchy but the man in front of you looks twice as old as Drake, who is already halfway to becoming a fossil.
"The attacks usually happen at dusk," Louis says. "They started small, a fence smashed, a shed broken, but recently they have become bolder. The palisade has been broken in three places, and half of our beehives smashed."
The old man fingers his white beard.
"So far they have not entered the village. So on the morrow we repair the damages of the night before, and continue our work as usual."
"You've got a lot of domesticated Pokemon out there," Lissy says. She's sitting cross-legged against the wall near the door, her sword next to her. Perseus is outside, 'patrolling'. He makes shouts whenever he turns around, walking the same path in front of the house while getting cheered on by Opal and Skiddle. "Why not fight back?"
"They work hard for us, and we take care of them," he says, smiling softly. "Not every Pokemon likes to fight. As you would not send a farmer to do a soldier's job, how are we to expect our gentle Wooloo to fight against a fierce Fearow? A hungry Migthyena?"
"Fighting back would solve only one problem," Ruby says from the kitchen. They're helping to prepare a meal. "If the Pokemon moved so close to the village because of some external factor, they'll not stop. There's more of them than there's of us, too."
You don't know the exact numbers, but you suppose there's no need. Pokemon always outnumber humans. They breed faster, they grow up faster, and even if they didn't, the average person has no chance to fight back without help against all but the weakest Pokemon.
The best way to deal with an attacking Pokemon is to retreat or scare it away. If you can't— well, as Commander Drake loved to drill into the aspirants, even an armed and armored knight can be brought down by three Rattata if they're determined enough
"I guess that makes sense," Lissy says. The fact that she's capable of accepting that some people aren't out there to test their prowess is already a massive improvement from the past few days. Half the talks in the carriage were about either legendary figures from the past or legendary figures of the present she's gonna defeat one day.
You can't help but laugh remembering it. Lissy turns to you, as if sensing your thoughts. There's just no way she's going to defeat Drake.
"Your captain," the village elder says, "she's already out in the woods, right?"
You nod. Bolt sits at the table with the man, chewing on some berries. The Raichu's face never changes its expression, his eyes always open. Lissy told you that Silvia is half blind on her right eye, electrocuted by the smaller-than-average Raichu when it was just a freshly hatched Pichu.
You mutter a thank you that Skiddle knows how to apply pressure with her horns without breaking any skin. If you earn any more scars, they'll be from fighting a proper fight, not mishandling a goat.
"To think they would send aspirants." He shakes his head. "I suppose times have changed. Drake is commander, the king is too old, and the crown prince too young. I will never understand what made the second princess abdicate as heir."
"There's some theories." You can't help it, somehow it feels like class again. "Though I wasn't born yet, so maybe there's something the books won't tell us."
He smiles, his thin fingers tracing a line over the table. "Too many theories, and not enough confirmation, isn't that right? Considering she's nowadays Marchioness Reichert, and quite alive, her silence as to why she married the Border Marquess remains intact."
You nod. That much is true. One theory is that the second princess was heartbroken by her sister leaving, marrying at the border to stay as close to the Empire as possible. Another says that she wishes to sit in that castle waiting for someone. None are confirmed, none seem too far fetched.
Lissy, with all the tact of a lumbering Slaking, gives off an exaggerated yawn. You turn to her, your expression showing your annoyance.
"I'm gonna fall asleep if I just sit here," Lissy says, standing up. "I'll go outside and train some. Just call me back when the food's done."
"Well I never," Lissy says, putting a hand over her chest as if struck. You take one of the berries from Bolt's plate and flick it at her. "Surely you don't believe I could be capable of— ow, okay, I'm going!"
"Sorry about that," you say. Elder Louis laughs it off, clearly happy about the excitement in the village. You have noticed that despite how small it is here, most people are either older or very, very young. Most young adults must have left for the larger cities. "I'll go keep an eye on her, thank you for having us, sir."
"Don't mention it," he says, also stealing a berry from Bolt. The Raichu turns his head slowly toward him. His expression does not change, but his ears twitch and the eyes… "My wife rarely has an opportunity to prepare dinner for a group."
You stand up, following after Lissy after waving to Ruby. They give you a nod. It's still quite bright outside, and likely will be for another few hours.
The tents are set up in an outlying barn not in use for the winter, which you have fashioned into something of a proper guardpost, even if you've been invited to stay at the homes of the villagers. You've set up a proper watch rotation, and even found an old wooden post that you and Skiddle spent a profitable morning driving into the ground to use as a training pell. Lissy hasn't wasted any time, already swinging her sword, clearly happy that she has the proper weight in her hand now. You'd love to spar again, using your own weapon of choice this time, but you can't treat this trip like she does. You have a job to do, and every day brings new problems.
You hear howls in the distance. Poochyena. Skiddle runs up to you, Opal on her back. She bah's, then meh's some. You nod along.
"Do you actually understand her?"
Lissy comes up to you as well, sword in hand. You shrug.
"Sometimes," you say. "If I don't, she usually finds a way to make me."
"Right," she says, pointing at Perseus with her thumb. "That one's really bad at it. I can never really understand him."
"Maybe that's something to work on, then. You clearly don't need help in the combat department."
Lissy grins, and you know she's going to take that as praise. Before she can boast, though, you notice something strange. Something— that smells weird?
Skiddle turns her head toward the barn where you've set up your tents. Smoke rises up from the building, and Lissy is already running there before you have any time to react.
"Fire!" you shout, and the door of the elder's house slams open, with Ruby holding a bucket of water as they step out. The small bit of smoke becomes a massive blaze in seconds. It's not just a normal fire, there's purpose in it.
The villagers all come together, a line forms at the well transporting water forward towards the blazing thatch and wooden rafters of the barn.
You think if you had been sleeping in the tents as was planned, you might not have been able to escape. The fear tries to grip your heart, but your feet are already in motion. Someone set that fire, it's a cold and bright day outside so—
Skiddle bah's. Opal jumps off her before she follows after you. You're not good with names, you know that, but you're fairly okay with faces. And there's one face in that group of villagers that are surrounding the burning tents with buckets of water that you haven't seen at all today.
He notices your quick steps, and makes like a tree.
Unfortunately for him, there's not much opportunity to escape from there. Between him and his freedom, there's Aria and Skiddle. On the other side, a steep cliff.
"In the name of the Glastrier Order," you shout, pointing at him. You can see Lissy to the right, cutting the man off further. "Stand down and you will not be hurt!"
Somehow you don't like the look on his face as he shoves his arm into a bag he grabbed from his back. Out comes… a rope? With all the practice of a criminal, he slams an iron spike into the ground and jumps off the cliff. You can't have him die, you need him alive for interrogation, so when Lissy swings her sword toward the rope, you raise your hand and tell her to stop.
You look down the cliff. The man's already deep into the valley, but he's not going to have an easy time escaping there.
"Lissy," you say. "Get Bolt, find the captain."
"And let that man escape?"
"She'll likely have seen the smoke rising," you say. "Right now the lives of the villagers and the—"
The ground under you shakes. A loud roar echoes from the valley. Skiddle tries to bite into your clothes, Lissy's hand reaches out and misses yours by mere millimeters. The damage is already done.
You barely manage to grab the rope as you take a tumble down. When you close your eyes, it feels so familiar.
But this time you're not a frightened child. Your hands burn as you use the rope to slow your descent. Lissy grabs it from above and tries to pull you up, but the shaking ground makes it hard for her to keep her own balance.
"Skiddle!" you shout. She bah's, concerned and frightened. "I'll be fine, go get Bolt!"
"You're going to be in so much trouble," Lissy shouts, "so don't you fucking die from a fall!"
You smile at her. The earthquake breaks the nail out of the ground.
The rest of the descent is not too bad. The cliff doesn't let you rest, so you try to switch hands as often as you can and make a mental note to purchase gloves. You don't like them much, but in case you ever have to make a daring escape with a rope you'll be better prepared.
You land on your feet, landing wrong. You wince, grabbing your foot as pain shoots up your leg. Unfortunately, the man is nowhere to be seen. Fortunately, you find yourself with an opportunity to collect your thoughts.
Either the man really hates the Glastrier knights, or his attempt to kill you was just opportunism. Considering the situation, the latter makes more sense. The smoke will draw anyone in the woods out and toward the village, meaning he can do what he wants without being caught.
Meaning he is likely the source of the disturbance in the woods. Though considering the scale of the Pokemon movement, there's no doubt in your mind that he works with others. An earthquake like this also isn't usual for Gildera, meaning it must have been triggered by something big and angry.
You really hope you don't meet big and angry today.
Taking a deep breath, you look around. The woods are not kind and easy to navigate, knights are taught to use symbols and colors to mark paths they've taken. You can't see any, so the enemies are not knights.
Just staying here and waiting for rescue is an option. The man might have escaped by then, but you're not in trouble, right? Sure falling off a cliff isn't great but what girl hasn't taken a tumble over one before? Considering it's your second time you feel like you might be able to do the third without any injury!
A cry in the woods ruins that plan immediately. Sword in hand, you take the shield off your back and make your way deeper into the valley. The cries get louder, guiding your path. It's not the man who escaped, but someone else that you stumble upon. The way they're dressed is quite similar, but this one pisses you off even more.
Tied to a tree by a net that looks enhanced by electric stones is a Tediursa. The net digs into its fur, electrocuting it whenever it tries to struggle against it. There's specks of blood on it from cuts that you know a human weapon must have inflicted.
"Hold it," you say. "What do you think you're doing?"
Poachers.
There's nothing stopping people from capturing Pokemon, Pokeballs are a luxury good but not completely out of reach for people who truly want to buy one. There are, of course, people who simply befriend one and that's that.
But some species of Pokemon are rare or difficult to obtain due to other reasons, and that's where scum like this make their appearance.
"I was just helping out," the man lies. "Someone must have left that poor thing in the net."
You glance at the sword-like weapon on the man's waist.
"I like kids, so it hurts my heart when someone does something to harm them," he says. You glance to the right, the injured Tediursa inside the net crying. Anger grips your heart.
"Tediursa are never without their parents," you say, your voice tight. Now you know what's big and angry. "The danger that a sleuth of angry Ursaring poses is too large, so capturing them requires explicit permission from the authority of these lands. You do not look like the kind of character that Duke van Kesteren keeps in his employ."
"Yeah?" he asks, grinning wide. "What are you gonna do about it, champ?"
You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. When there is injustice in front of you, you must never close your heart. When there are people in need of help, your hand must reach out to aid them.
When you hear someone in pain, take heart and grant them mercy.
"I will fulfill my duty," you whisper. Your fist clenches over your heart. You draw your sword, pointing at the poacher. "You are under arrest. Please, do not resist."
The poacher's grin widens even further. He grabs his own weapon, a large sickle-like knife of a design you've not seen before. It looks like it was made to hack away at wood and plants, but the dried blood on the blade tells a different story.
You attack first. In three steps, the distance between you is barely enough for your sword's tip to reach his shoulder as you lunge. The man reacts with a short gasp, not expecting you to go all out from the beginning. He reacts fast despite the surprise, his own blade coming down and knocking yours out of the trajectory. Your arms hurt as your sword instead stabs into the ground between his feet. He attacks this time, but you roll away and stop the followup with your shield.
He's strong, but you are trained. You open your mouth, shouting as you drive the edge of your shield into his forearm. His arm goes wide, so you continue by bashing your shield against his chest, sending him reeling backwards.
You can't stop or hesitate. Your sword swings again, diagonally from the ground and up towards his hand. If he loses his weapon, he'll be easy picking. Unfortunately he's quick to recover, once again blocking your blade with his.
"I take it back, kid," he says, the wide smile from earlier replaced by a somewhat annoyed scowl, "I really fucking hate you."
"The feeling's mutual," you respond. You attempt another bash with your shield, but this time his hand catches it before you can swing at him. You're too close to him for a good swing of his sword, so he does the next best thing. He leans back, suddenly snapping his entire body forward. His forehead crashes into your nose, and your vision blurs as you find yourself staggering backwards. The taste of metal in your mouth announces blood.
He's not done though. His grip on your arm tightens and he pulls you back, letting go only to throw his leg up and kick you in the stomach. The force knocks all the air out of you. You cough, specks of red hitting the ground.
Then his fist hits you. You try to raise the shield, but you aren't ready for the attack in the slightest. You're pushed back, and in an attempt to create some distance you go with the flow and roll onto the ground. You are lucky, in some ways, he clearly doesn't want the trouble that comes with killing a Glastrier knight. And he's lucky in the same ways— you don't want to kill a man today.
Your eyes open but you can't see shit. They burn; dirt and debris sitting in your eyelashes. You hear him whistle.
"Fucking Gilderan trees," he says, "nearly broke my fucking hand."
Good. You want to shout it at him, but you can't seem to find the oxygen for it. You turn around, pushing against the ground and forcing yourself up. You stagger for just a moment, taking a deep breath to gather yourself.
Your hand comes up to your face, baptized in fresh blood from your nose and cuts on your lips. Silvia is going to be furious. You're never going to go on another outing again until your promotion. Maybe everyone will doubt if you were even ready to receive your partner.
"Just stay the fuck down, kid," he says, clearly angry. "Enough blood's been spilled today."
But right now, you can't let this man get away. Your fist clenches in front of your chest. You glare up, your blurry vision recovering. The man looks like he's ready to let you walk away, on his way to the captured Tediursa again. But you can't just leave.
If your hear someone in pain—
If you hear someone in pain—
If you hear someone in—
You roar, your stance low. The poacher turns around, clearly annoyed.
"Look, champ," he says. "You want to live, there's no shame in running away."
You don't respond, still crouched as you shoot forward. The man is ready to attack again, but you're not here to fight fair or honorable. You throw your sword, and the moment where he swats it out of the way is enough for you to make your move. The shield bashes against his groin, and for once it is him that screams in pain.
Of course, you can't stop now. You repay him by bashing the shield against his face, breaking his nose with a sickening crunch. He doesn't know what to defend, so he lashes out, and his sword is met with the steel-hard wooden shield that carries the Glastrier emblem.
You cock your fist back, growling with gritted teeth. A knight is never truly unarmed. With the force of an arm that carried bags of fodder for years, your fist hits him square in the chin. The grip on his weapon loosens as he falls backward. He hits the ground with a heavy thud.
There's no way to calm your breathing. Your ears are ringing, and you're certain that your nose is bleeding far more than is healthy. You grab his weapon, throwing it far into the woods and away from him before stumbling over to your sword, picking it up and turning to the poacher once more. He's coughing, his own face now bloodied and bruised. He's down, but not out, and you're not certain you can continue to fight like you have.
"Hey, champ," you say, finally finding your voice between the animalistic noises that your throat is producing. "There's no shame in running away."
He doesn't find it nearly as funny as you. His lumbering form approaches, but he's unarmed and suddenly you are… on your knees. The sprain from your earlier landing starts hurting way worse, strained beyond the limits of your pain tolerance.
Your legs have given out, it takes the sword stabbed into the ground to keep you on your knees rather than your back. You lack stamina, you've been kicked in the solar plexus, and no amount of courage in the face of an adversary will make up for your body. You growl again, slapping your legs. Move, you want to say. Don't fail me again.
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.
Yet another fight you can claim victory on, but it comes with none of the joy and elation. Is this the kind of fights that knights get into? Is this the—
Bile rises up in your throat. It burns in your nostrils and forces its way out of your mouth despite all your attempts to keep it in. You turn your head to throw up next to the man, trying to grant him what little dignity someone like him deserves.
You can hear your friends in the distance shouting your name. You can't answer, your chest burns as you try to speak. Raising your head, you roar, speaking in a language that requires no voice.
The Elysian realms are not calling for you today, but the Sleeping Dwarf is.
You pass out, catching a glimpse of lightning.
###
The Ursaring are not happy.
If only everyone cared for their children like they do.
Everything you've done today was an experience you've had before. As your mind wanders off into nightmares, you remember a time when you didn't wear blue. When your emblem was not a hoof. When the partner that is worrying over you had much sharper teeth.
[ ] Dream of broken legs. Rain pours down from above, washing away who you were.
[ ] Dream of bloodied fists. You wash those hands gently. He does not cry, so you make up for it.
[ ] Dream of bruised skin. Again. Do it again, but properly this time. Pain will be your teacher.
[X] Awareness. The world that surrounds you is always moving. Whether they're fields of battle or people you don't understand well, you come to grasp them easier.
[X] Dream of bloodied fists.
###
His name is Zachariah— and he is brave. Braver than anyone you know. A towering dog sits at his side, sharp teeth devouring a bowl of feed as Zack— which is a name he vastly prefers— leans against the Arcanine he christened 'Kael'.
Your mother took you both to a tea party. You do not like them, though your grandmother asked you to take care of your brother, who likes them even less.
He's older than the kids you have to sit with, so he sits by himself in the garden of Count Schwan, watching the party from a distance.
"My mother bought me a carriage," one of the young nobles says, smiling into her tea. She looks eight years old, and you don't know if you're less or more mature than her considering your similar builds. You feel a pit in your stomach. Why are they all pretending to talk like adults?
"I get to pick a new partner," another says. "The previous one was not behaving properly."
'You're not lesser, Aria,' Zack had said. 'Do not let anyone treat you as if you are.'
"If they weren't behaving properly, you didn't raise them right," you say. The table grows silent, and you can see the consideration they're putting into whether they should respond to you or not. Whether you're worth it or not.
"You'd know," one of the more daring noble girls decided to rise up to the challenge. It's amazing what kind of childhood must create such expressions on faces way too young for them. She looks at you as if she stepped into something rotten. You return the glare without hesitation. "There's no need to pretend, Flamberg. Everyone knows you're not actually nobility."
"Yeah, a mistake," a boy speaks up. "A maid's child, at best. Maybe not even that."
"A peasant who gets to share our table," another girl speaks up, raising her face. "And insults us? Isn't that strange?"
"Mother says you're clearly not the child of Marquess Flamberg." Their faces blur together, you can't even tell anymore who's saying what. They're all the same, they're all the same. "She calls you a mongrel, because that's what you are."
You know for a fact that the boy who said this didn't know what a mongrel was.
But you do. It's not a word you've heard for the first time.
"You don't look like them at all," one says, reaching out and grabbing your hair. "Look at it, your hair is all wrong, and no noble family has skin like yours in Gildera."
You hiss, not in pain but in frustration. Your fists clench into the skirt of the stupid dress they've made you wear, ripping off those stupid flowers they stuck on it, losing those stupid gemstones they put in those flowers.
You run a quick calculation in your mind. The cost might not be worth the joy that punching someone's nose bloody can bring you.
Fortunately, and unfortunately, you don't need to carry that cost today.
He descended on them like an angry god. Zack appeared next to you so fast he must have sensed something was about to happen. His fist smacks the boy that was pulling on your hair, and you almost feel bad for him. The situation explodes immediately, with more and more of the kids joining in the fist fight.
It takes only a minute for the adults to notice the noise and break it up. It takes only ten minutes for your mother to force you and Zack to stand in front of the hosts and apologize. While she's buttering them up, you stand at the side and try to calm him down.
"I'm not sorry," Zack says. You shake your head.
"You don't have to be," you whisper. "They just need to hear the words to save face."
You hate politics. You hate etiquette. You hate formality.
But somehow despite being younger, the disposition for those things lies with you, and not your brother who is glaring up at the Countess who is waiting for him to apologize.
"Then I'm sorry," he says, clearly frustrated. Your mother can sense it, as can you, but it's too late to stop him. "I'm sorry our gracious hosts are so incapable at picking their guests that I had to intervene."
"Zachariah," your mother says. You can see the anger in her eyes. You already know the trouble that will spill from that fury when you're back home. "Behave, or you will be punished."
"If there's any honor left in the family, you shouldn't make me apologize either," he says, committing the worst sin of the day. One does not talk back to the Marchioness Flamberg. That is a lesson you've had to learn yourself. "Your daughter was called a mongrel by this woman's guests."
The Countess turned bright red. You know for certain that she's used the same word to refer to you before, two of her own children were getting their asses kicked by Zack as well after all.
"Go to the carriage," your mother says, her voice low. He does, with a skip in his step as if what is to come is so minor compared to the apology that she wanted to force out of him. "Aria."
"Yes," you say, grabbing your skirt and bowing with the practiced perfection of a true blue blood. Out of the corner of your eye you can see your mother's scrutinizing gaze— whether your bow is up to her standards or not. "I apologize for the scene, sir. I understand that no harm was meant by the other children."
Madam, after all, and not my lady. Though the woman is a Countess and you hold no title, the Marquess' daughter may offer an apology but not the respect that the Countess so desperately wants.
Politics. Etiquette. Formality.
May the Skywrath Sovereign cast aside the clouds and burn the kingdom to cinders. Perhaps in those ashes people will live as people, and not as slaves to blood.
Your mother bids the Countess farewell.
The way home is spent in uncomfortable silence. Rather than wait in the carriage, Zack went ahead on Kael.
ARIA. WAKE UP.
You sit in that room. The one you usually hide in when you don't feel like facing your family. The maids know you're here, but don't tell on you. They're the only people you can trust now that she's gone.
You know that someone's outside the door. Someone tall and proud and strong, moving with purpose.
Zack walks in, trying and failing to hide his hands. Some nobles punish others by hitting their legs, or backs, where nobody can see. The Marchioness Flamberg, however, always prefers the hands.
A scarred hand is proof of hard work. Her words still ring in your ears whenever you look at the calluses. You miss your grandmother. You never had to deal with punishment until she passed.
He's taller than most boys his age, his hair is dark red, clashing with his pale skin that looks so different from yours. His eyes are sharp and dark, reminding you of an early night in autumn. This is Zack, and he will always be by your side.
"Zack," you call out. He sits down next to you, once again trying and failing to hide his hands between his legs as he pulls his knees up to his face.
"I'm sorry," he says. Your fists clench at your sides. "I should have just apologized, I know."
"No," you say, shaking your head. "Though you spoke out of turn, you were right. And even if you weren't, you did it to defend me."
"I don't understand you sometimes," he says. "You're not so weak you can't fight back."
Back when your grandmother was still around, you could join Zack in his training. Though you were still too young to really hold a sword, there were other weapons you found interesting and useful. Then—
—then she was gone, and your mother decided to fix you. To make sure you can be a proper noble lady.
"Sometimes fighting back makes things worse," you say, wrapping your arms around yourself. You can't look him in the eyes. "But not every punishment is just."
You reach out, grabbing his arm. He doesn't resist when you reveal his injured hands. You reach behind you, grabbing a box of medical supplies.
"And even if I want to get upset, it's still true, isn't it?" you say, frowning. "That I'm not your sister, that your parents are not my parents."
"You can't let their words bother you," he says. "Whether truth or lie, Aria. Whether we share blood or not. You're my sister, and that's all that matters."
You hold up the bandages, and he reaches out to let you start treating his hands. They're bruised, broken skin leaking bits of bright red blood. It looks just like anyone else's blood, it does not run blue or green or any other of the colors you can see in the world.
He doesn't cry. So you do it for the both of you.
Kael nuzzles your cheek, trying to dry the tears off them. You try to smile, and fail miserably. Your brother's partner is always around, never in his Pokeball. Your own Growlithe is very cowardly in comparison, avoiding other people and only coming out when you're alone. You named her— something. Your lips move, but your voice does not call it.
Mother does not let you take her with you when you leave the estate.
In a lot of ways, you wish you could be like him and his Kael. You wish you could be as strong as him, as brave as him, as knowledgeable as him. If you were, the etiquette teacher would stop beating your hands with her whip. You would no longer be afraid of other people's words. You could defend yourself when the worst came to worse.
Growlithe is your partner that your family chose for you. The Flambergs are premier experts of the Arcanine line, carrying one on their emblem and using those who have died of old age for furs that show their status as Flambergs.
To you, that fur represents something else. It is much more important to you: It represents…
[ ] …your rebellion.
Your mother's cruelty has only grown with your father's apathy. Your grandmother was the last bastion that held this family together, and now you have only Zack to rely on.
[ ] …your love.
You're not indifferent to the world, you simply can't put your emotions to words. You're full of love, and you will carry it forward.
[ ] … your hope.
It is with your head held high that you accept the lot you've been dealt with in life. Your grandmother's wisdom will follow you and you will never be truly alone.
WAKE UP.
###
Though you've succeeded in rescuing one Tediursa, the poachers had been active for a while before the knights were called. The situation is not so easily resolved, however. The knights will continue to patrol, hoping to find what poachers haven't left the forests yet and rescuing any Tediursa that haven't been shipped.
Unfortunately for you, you're out of commission. Your group is sent back and the juniors will clean up the rest of the situation by themselves. While Lissy seems slightly frustrated at not getting to have her own fight, the state of you makes her hesitant to voice it.
You try not to pull away from her hand when she wraps it around yours. The carriage back home is a bumpy ride; she is just helping you stay steady. You barely hear the conversation between her and Ruby, who has definitely cried when they heard you fell off the cliff, and then cried even harder when you returned bloodied.
Skiddle is refusing to stay in her Pokeball, instead occupying almost the entire space in the middle of the carriage in an attempt to keep anything that's not Lissy or Ruby away from you.
"Who's Zack?"
The question hits you much harder than the poacher's fist. It hits you even worse when the voice isn't Lissy's, but Ruby's.
You open your mouth to lie, and somehow it feels much easier not to. "My brother."
"You have a brother?" Lissy asks, tilting her head. You frown.
"Had," you say. Lissy matches your expression before her eyes move away from yours, mumbling an apology. "It's fine, it… it doesn't hurt as much as I thought to hear that name anymore."
"You were muttering it in your sleep," Ruby says, their own hand on your arm. The carriage shakes, and you wince for a moment. Raymond shouts an apology. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
You want to agree. That you have to talk about this with Capella first, to clear up the lie and admit something you never wanted to admit. Something that you can now do in that warmth that surrounds you, from beautiful fur and leaves, from hands that grip you so gently that you feel everything has been worth it.
You don't know how honest you can be, but you want to give it a try.
"Back before Drake found me, my brother and I were escaping from our family," you say. Escaping. It feels inappropriate and small considering how young you were when you took that endeavor. Ten years old, and he was barely older. "My grandmother kept watch over me, but the second she passed away, things took a turn for the worse."
"That can't have been easy," Ruby says. In the darkness of the carriage under a star-lit sky, their eyes have stopped reflecting the light. "Family is important, but… not all families treat each other well."
"I never knew my folks," Lissy says. You know what she's trying to do and you appreciate the effort. To find some common ground and empathy, shared experiences are the most important thing, but there is also sadness in not having anyone to rely on. "The orphanage I grew up in was run by some decent clergy, but few people got adopted and most just grew up enough to leave."
That does sound like something you'd love to hear more about, and yet somehow you don't have the energy to listen. Most orphanages are run by nobles, it is part of their noblesse oblige; lately there have been some pushes to make higher education more accessible to those with fewer funds to further improve the lives of people.
The Gilderan church is not a monolith in the country. Faith overlaps here and there, though you know little about what gods are the subjects of their worship. You know the names of many, but only inasmuch as they appear in historical accounts in Ancient Elysium.
"Drake found me in the woods," you say, trying to form into words what thoughts sit in your heart. "My family probably assumes I've died, so I decided to let them think that. Now, I'm just Aria."
"Yeah, well," Lissy says, her hand moving from your fingers to your shoulder. "Nobles are a bunch of stuck up assholes anyway. No need to mourn them."
"I didn't say I was a noble," you say. She shrugs.
"You didn't need to," she says. Lissy's voice is as soft as the morning breeze. You didn't think she'd be capable of speaking so gently. "But we all got our own circumstances, so who the fuck cares where you came from, right?"
Capella cares. Because Capella has even stronger opinions on nobility than you do, though you were the one who had to suffer them as family.
"You're right," you say. You're by far not the first noble that joined the Order. Besides Adrian, there are dozens of those from big families that seek glory in the sword, instead of trying to fight for positions in their estates. "If you're going to continue being this insightful, we'll have to tell Silvia."
"You wouldn't dare," she says, hissing through grit teeth. There's no fire in her eyes, but you can tell she welcomes the distraction. "It's enough she's gonna have me take etiquette lessons—"
You flinch. Your knuckles sting. She stops speaking so abruptly that even Skiddle startles at the sudden silence.
"Are you alright?" Ruby asks. You nod, then shake your head, then nod again.
"I don't know," you say. Hazy dreams, strange memories that resurface at the slightest word. You feel… vulnerable. In a way you have not felt vulnerable in a long time, that the injuries and adrenaline that shot through you woke something up that you've been trying to keep asleep. You're too tired to fall asleep again. You're too aware of everything to really pay attention. "Next time we meet a poacher, you get to kick his ass. Deal?"
Lissy smiles, her hand squeezing your shoulder. "Deal."
You have forged a great bond with new friends and comrades-in-arms. Lissy and Ruby trust you, and you trust them in return. You would ask questions about human nature, why is it so easy to talk to people you barely know about such heavy topics, when your tongue is always tied as you speak to those you trust the most— but why does everything have to mean something?
You are Aria.
And you are surrounded by warmth and friendship.
###
Capella says nothing at first when she sees you on the bed in the medical wing. She just sits down, keeping watch with her back so rigid against the chair she could be a statue. Most of your injuries look brutal, but are nothing that a few weeks of rest won't fix. You don't know if you have weeks. Your trial is soon. Drake will be disappointed if you're not ready by then.
Lissy and Ruby have spent most of the day with you here though they left the moment Capella arrived. You promised that you'd go find them the second you get the permission to leave, but you don't know when that will be.
The way Capella's eyes grew distant as she and Lissy glared at each other made you feel sick. As if there was some blame to be assigned here. As if you don't have the agency to pick a fight by yourself.
At least if nothing else—Silvia's commendation for your actions have almost surpassed the amount of scolding she gave you.
A Chansey is walking up and down the room and checking all the beds for some reason. You don't know why, somehow you're the only person in the—admittedly less-than-usually populated—Caer that has any serious injuries right now.
Your thoughts trail off when Capella's arms wrap around you.
"You could have died," she says. She sounds so full of warmth that it's easy to forget just how cold and distant she usually is.
"But I didn't," you counter. Her grip tightens. You do not have the energy to tell her that she is hurting you. "Capella, I'm fine."
"You could have died," she says again, "and I wasn't there to keep you safe. The last time we spoke I—"
"It's alright." The words cut your tongue on the way out. Skiddle's Pokeball wiggles on the table, though she stays in. You think back to your brother's words. To one of this many lessons. It feels like a haze over your eyes has been lifted. You push her away, giving you some space on the bed again. The medicines are very good at making you sleepy but very bad at keeping the pain out.
▃▄▄▅— never let anyone treat you as a lesser being.
You know it isn't alright. Not to her, and it's not fair to you either. Lately, your relationship has been very one-sided and you don't think so little of yourself that you can't see how inappropriate Capella's reaction was. But that's kind of the problem here, isn't it?
Despite knowing this, somehow you still don't want to disappoint her. Somehow you still want to give the right response to see her light up.
A person can only bear the lash so long in silence.
You expect her to say something again, but somehow your insistence gets to her. She accepts it wordlessly, and you want to accept that this is the end of it. It gnaws at you, numerous teeth digging into your cranium and finding that one thought to dig up, that Capella is happy as long as you rely on her and tell her that she can continue to treat you as you she's always done.
"I don't need you to keep me safe," you say, sitting up from the bed. Some movement has been recommended, most of your injuries aren't so serious that you have to stay lying down the entire day. It's just your foot, but the wooden crutch next to you will take care of that. "And I don't need you fussing over me because of something like this."
Now you know you're saying the wrong thing. You know you're provoking the fight. And that's the kind of thing that meeting other people shows you.
She opens her mouth, poison on the tip of her tongue, and you brace yourself.
"You're right," she says. For a moment, you breathe in relief. In the next—"You clearly don't need me to fuss."
You sigh, wincing in pain as your body moves with the motion.
"You just hear what you want to hear," you say, pressing your finger into her collarbone. "All you're doing, at all times, is police how I speak. With whom I speak. I'm your friend, Capella, your best friend. I'm not your doll."
She whispers something so low you can't hear it despite how close you are. She reaches up and grabs your finger, at least careful enough not to put pressure on the bandaged knuckles as she pushes it away softly.
"I'm all you have, you ungrateful—"
"You're not," you say. And there is the line that you never wanted to draw. Capella is cold, her fingers feel like life is drawn from whatever she touches. Her eyes are wide open, and you can see for the first time in a long time that she truly understands what you're saying. "You're not all I have, Capella. And I am not all you have. We are not joined at the hip, we do not share a heartbeat, and before we ever met you and I were completely different people that ran into each other through circumstances beyond our control."
You try to take a breath, try to break up what you're saying in pieces she can digest, but you can't. There's no way to stop your mouth from moving when you finally have her ear for the first time in so long.
"Every moment with you used to be joyful. Every day you were what I needed, and I thought you needed me too. And you do, but not in the way I need you. You don't own me, that is not what friendship means, what our friendship means."
That is the truth.
You know because it hurts.
"One day you lie to me to spare my feelings," she says, "and today you can't help but tell the truth."
She tries to stand, but her legs give out as if the world under her feet has just disappeared. She falls back into the chair next to your bed, wooden legs scraping against a stone floor and creaking so loud that Chansey turns to look at you for a moment before continuing with her work.
"This is the part where you apologize," she says. You don't know if she's serious. For once, with a full view of her face, you cannot say if her words are truthful or not. For what? You want to ask and without even hearing your question she answers: "For lying. And for telling the truth."
"I'm sorry," you say, and you mean it. The words come from so deep in your gut it feels like you've never been more honest in your life. "For lying, and for telling the truth. But I can't apologize for not being the person you want me to be, Capella."
"You can," she says, tears in her eyes as she lets go of your finger. You haven't even noticed she was still holding it, her cold skin numbing it to the point that it feels uncomfortable to move. "You'd just have to lie again."
"I can't lie for you, either." You can only lie for yourself. You can only draw lines in the sand for yourself. You speak up again, trying to clarify. "Because I don't want you to keep away from other people, because I don't want to be enough for you."
Capella's isolation is a choice. A grave she has been digging for herself, and you can't say if it's Skiddle's presence by itself or simply the fact that you were forced to interact with other aspirants for your training outside of the occasional spar for once that has taught you this. You find yourself wanting more.
"Why can't you be content?" Capella asks, her hands are folded together in front of her chest. "I don't want anyone but you, Aria. You're the one I—-I—l—"
Whatever words are about to spill from her mouth, what unreadable emotions are hiding behind those eyes, they all fall apart when the door to the infirmary blows open.
"Aria," Drake calls out, walking into the room with quick steps. He looks unhappy, and maybe even older though it has only been a few weeks since you've last seen him. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," you say, turning to him. Capella is frozen in the chair, pale and wide-eyed still. She looks like a doll, more so than usual. "Just a few injuries in the line of duty."
"You look like a Tauros ran you over, girl," Drake says. He raises his hands, one touching down on your hair and the other on Capella's. You try not to lean into the familiar feeling, that moment where he once again treats you like a child instead of the young woman you've become.
Though maybe for a minute, it's not too bad to indulge. It's simply… part of the recovery, if nothing else.
He smells like a campfire.
"I have to go," Capella says, finally finding the strength to move out of the chair. Her movement is too quick, and she stumbles for a moment on the way out, then nearly runs Chansey over. Drake follows her quick escape with slight confusion.
"Is everything alright with her?" he asks. You shrug. It's not a topic you want to discuss with him, though he might be the only person who truly understands. This is not something you want a mediation on, or some sort of advice.
You are Aria.
And Capella is your friend.
Or maybe she was. You don't know anymore; today you pushed every button you could. Sure, it was for a purpose, but does that really make it right? Is it truly your job to fix whatever is wrong with this friendship?
Is it your job to fix Capella? Is she even in need of fixing?
You want to say it is you who is wrong here, but even the friendship in its infancy that you've built with Lissy and Ruby is much more healthy and rather than wanting to replace her, you want that kind of friendship with Capella instead.
One where you can take a few days of distance and not feel like you've been thrown into a pit.
You take a deep breath. Count, one, two, three, four—
"Aria," Drake speaks up. His voice is like gravel, and his shoulders sag a little as if the weight of his world is settling on his shoulders. "You are… alive, I see."
"Yes," you say, your voice dry. You can't help but crack a smile. It's so easy to forget your troubles when you can talk with Drake for longer than two sentences during a day. "Though the poacher was quite willing to fight me, we both didn't want to kill each other."
"Could have fooled me," he mutters. He shakes his head. "Nevermind that, I'm not asking for a mission report. I'm asking about you, Aria."
You open your mouth to say you're fine again, but you can't.
You try, once more, then twice more, then your teeth clench and you sigh out of your nose.
"Drake," you say, your voice small enough to hide behind a Smoliv. "If I said I wasn't… fine, you know, would you be disappointed?"
"No matter what, there is nothing you could ever do that disappoints me, Aria."
You wipe your arm over your eyes, ignoring the way the bruises stung.
"It really hurt," you say, looking up at him. Your vision blurs slightly. He sits down in the chair, allowing you to stop straining your neck. "Fighting someone, taking hits like that, hitting him in return. It really hurt."
"Yes," he says, his hand once again coming up to your hair and patting it down. He doesn't give any advice or wisdom. He doesn't try to console you with empty words or platitudes. All he does is lend you his ear, and somehow it feels like you can paint a picture of the divide between you and Capella. If you ever admitted to pain in front of her, what kind of expression would she make?
What kind of excuse to keep you in her sight?
"I don't want to hurt people," you admit, holding your hands up. The bandages are stained in a dark brown liquid, something to aid the healing. It smells like rotten berries and volcanic ash. "But I had to, so I could help that Tediursa. So I could help the villagers."
"In sixty-three years," Drake says, his hands coming up to meet yours. They are cold, but not in the way that Capella's are. "I have learned much about human nature. Nobody likes to hurt people, Aria. That you don't like to do it doesn't make you a bad knight, it makes you a good person."
You wish you could take that at face value.
You know for a fact that there are a good amount of people who do enjoy hurting others. If everyone was a good person, knights would be keepers of nature, and not of peace.
"Do you want to stop here?" he asks.
"No," you say so fast that he can't even follow up. You squeeze his hands. "I don't know if I can give the same answer in a year or two, if I will still be the same person I am now when I have another ten or twenty or a hundred fights. But right now, I want to make you proud. I want to become a knight of the Order."
"You've already made me proud, Aria." Drake smiles, and you find yourself smiling back. "Whether you're a knight or a merchant, whether you decide to live as a farmer or make your money by raising Pokemon instead. There's no shame in being who you are."
He's always been encouraging. That's why you get along with him so easily. Why everyone gets along with him so easily.
"Sir," you say, swallowing the lump in your throat. "What about my trial?"
"It won't be delayed," he says. Your heart drops into your stomach. "But I'll still give it to you. It's not a task that will require you to fight, after all. You can ride it out on your dear Skiddle, or perhaps you can find yourself a carriage."
Suddenly, it stops sounding so urgent. So secretive. And you can't help but ask him the question that's been burning on your mind since that lesson.
"Why do I know what my trial is?" you ask. He blinks. "I thought we weren't supposed to know anything about it until that day. You already told me I have to deliver an important letter.
"Ah," he says, letting go of your hands and crossing his arms. "Is that so? I admit, I've never been the sponsor for an aspirant before, so I didn't know."
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.
"Well," he says, laughing it off. "It doesn't matter either way. Next week, you'll meet me at the cabin, right?"
"I will," you say, your hands clenching into fists in your lap. "There's nothing right now that I want more."
"Then keep something in mind, Aria," he says. His finger comes up to your sleeve, tracing a line over it. "What makes you a knight is not some stripe on your uniform, or some strange ritual and tradition. Duke van Kesteren can have his demands, he can have his expectations, but in the end, what matters most is faith in your heart. Faith in yourself and in your cause."
"I want to be a knight, Drake," you say, your voice low. "I deal with chivalry, not faith."
"If you have hope, and love, and faith," Drake says, a smile dancing on his lips that refuses to reach his eyes, making you feel a chill over your back. "As long as you have courage, power, and wisdom, no one can deny your purpose. Even if you're not at the Order, even if there is a path that you follow leading away from the Caer and the hoof on your clothes. You are a knight in my heart, one of the best we've ever raised."
You wipe your arm over your eyes again.
###
You're recovering faster than the doctor expected you to. You can't participate in training yet, but you can walk around with your crutch and don't have to stay at the infirmary the entire time.
So right now, you're going to be stuck entertaining yourself. Skiddle is at your side, constantly walking at a slow pace near your bad leg in case you trip and fall. You've done so only once or twice, but it seems like she'll always be there to catch you.
So who's going to be your anodyne for boredom?
[ ] Capella. Of course, considering your argument with Capella escalating whenever you meet there's no shame in choosing to avoid that confrontation until you pass your trial. You can talk to her after everything, right?
[ ] Lissy and Silvia. Lissy's trial is a few days before yours, due to the overlap it's likely you won't meet again until you both are officially junior knights of the Order. This might be the last chance to see her before she becomes even more arrogant.
[ ] Ruby and Redwood. You try not to think about how ironic the combination is, but the Mountain Villager and the Red Bear make for quite a pair. Ruby's trial is set before yours, so this might be the last chance to see them for a while.
