Apparently satisfied, Halcón slowly blinked, and then gave his ear a momentary wash. Did that mean something? It certainly wasn't
threatening, and if anything he must be confident and composed...
When he spoke, the Luxio did so in a clear, well-projected voice, his words flowing steadily with hardly a stumble or hedge.
It was as if he was telling a story to an audience – there could be no interruption.
"Listen well," he began. "The Escarpa are warriors. Not conquerors, but protectors. My clan has protected Sojaveña from the day it was founded – from raiders, would-be-invaders, natural disasters, berserk ferals, and unstable rifts. We have raised more than one Wandering Light, and sheltered the current Light in living memory. We have learned the proper stewardship of this environment, and explored its rifts. We keep the knowledge of its peoples, its creatures, its growing things, its weather, its magic. We
belong to the Soja'. We are part of it.
"When 'mon came from the east to settle here, some two-hundred years ago, the Escarpa at the time did not turn them away, saying that these settlers would be common folk under our protection the same way as the dependent villages in my clan's territory. For many years, this was well and good. It is the way of settled 'mon to build towns, raise crops, tend herds, and make trade with outsiders. It is the way of my clan to walk the land, hunt its wildlife, remember its fruitful places, descend into its rifts, and visit settled 'mon for rest, amusement, and barter. This is just the same as how different species survive in different ways – from the carrion bird, to the grazing herd.
"In the lifetime of my mother's mother, Empoleon Oriane entered the town of Desert Knot, and bargained for it. She renamed it Frontier Town, and said that she would build a city there, and bring the Commonwealth to Sojavena, and tame the wild places. Mayor Oriane made war with the Escarpa over the use of land and rifts in this part of the world, the reasons for conflict endless and unarguable. Even hunting thieves and bandits was considered a crime at best, or an act of war at worst. There were no victors, and little compromise. The conflict inflamed the rifts of Soja, which townsfolk call 'mystery dungeons', and they spread and grew, thinning the walls of the world and weakening the clansfolk who depended on the rifts for resources. The Escarpa withdrew, to keep watch on Frontier Town and wait for a better season for conflict. They would bide their time.
"In later years, a young warrior of the Escarpa moved against the rifts, and a human from the stars became her partner, and they ended the crisis together, becoming strong beyond description. This warrior was Luxray Sierra, and her mate was Delphox Jesse, the Stranger. Together, they could have defeated any enemy, but instead they chose peace. They became so strong that no war could be made without their consent. Even so, the peace they kept was a kind of
fever – in this time of peace no provocation or injustice was ever cruel enough to punish. In my own lifetime, I have seen Escarpa warriors hanged for 'trespass' – this is the crime of walking on land without permission – and
still there was peace, and we were told that we need only mind where we travelled. And so the fever rose and rose, never killing off the sickness in the land.
"At last, there came a 'mon in Frontier Town who it pleased to build industrial machines to pull oil from the earth in Escarpa territory, and lay pipes to transport it to the Commonwealth, where oil is burned to power their vehicles. He
knew that this could not stand, but he sent labourers all the same. This 'mon never completed his work. I tell you, the '
fever' killed him."
Here, Halcón paused, making eye contact with several Wayfarers, allowing the meaning of his words to filter through. He wasn't saying the oil baron died of natural illness.
"...In the past several years, we have heard Mayor Ignatius and the 'mon of Frontier Town call our chieftain 'murderer', tell all visitors of our 'savagery', and cry in their drinking houses about the time to come when the Army will remove us from the earth. Not every town 'mon says these things, but they very rarely
object. It is not even
new; only the force with which it is said is new. The Escarpa have watched and waited and talked and sacrificed and held their tongues for a
generation. The clan once stepped in to right wrongs as a matter of course; now they let all manner of things pass without response, to appease the Commonwealth. All manner of things—"
The Luxio's eyes narrowed, and he glanced northeast, towards Blaguarro.
"—but
not these Demons, these Shadows of innocent 'mon. The Escarpa move to encircle the town of black water, and allow no escape, on foot or by air or by water. Our trackers surpass all others. We cannot hunt down and pursue locomotives bearing Shadows or their makers, so we shall simply unmake the rail line itself. If this stems the coming flood of Commonwealth industry, settlers, and military troops, so much the better. It is our duty to do these things, when no-one else can or will."
He turned back to the Wayfarers, blinked slowly, took a breath. His normal speaking voice returned, rougher and faintly
sassy in tone.
"You're not part of the Commonwealth. Alright. You want to fight the demons of Blaguarro alongside us. Sounds good to my ears! But after that, what then? Moving Escarpa warriors to a war footing, even against the demons,
will provoke the Commonwealth. We move all the same, as we must. You may say that these matters can be resolved by talking all that it pleases you, but I need you to see that it is... difficult to trust in words, from where we stand."
He wasn't admonishing the Wayfarers. Only explaining – but with a kind of deep, aching fatigue barely perceptible underneath his playful, cocky mannerisms. This was a young 'mon who'd spent his whole life hearing stories of Escarpa warriors doing great and heroic things, and excuses for why they couldn't do the same now, even as more and more wrongs went unpunished.
