Frontier Town Frontier Town Outskirts

[Ambyssin]

As Owen had winded down his part of the meeting, Nova had put forth a reckless idea: to send some Wayfarers directly to Eremus Rift via Twilight Quarry. And he had volunteered as tribute, right on the heels of saying what the Comb showed him. Given some folks' reactions to that, he figured it would be best not to linger. So, Nova had quickly excused himself and made his way along the outskirts of Frontier Town.

The gifted darkness tingled deep inside of him. It wasn't quite ready to blossom, but Nova didn't think it would be long. There was a familiar tug in the pit of his stomach. He knew it well. And Nova figured there was no way this power could follow him to Forlas. But he was wrong. The question was how it would manifest. Would it be more... protective in nature here?

Nova sat down. He slotted in the Fire Memory. As a fiery red replaced his standard turquoise, he shut his eyes and tilted his head, bathing in the sun's warmth.

 

[Phoenixsong]

Deep breath. Hold it for a beat. Feel the sparks inside his chest catch and flare with the rush of oxygen, the heat building in the back of his throat. Face the target head-on, nose pointing straight at it and not turning at the last second to investigate whatever scent the wind carried over from that saloon (usually just skunky booze, but one time they'd been grilling something and it'd smelled amazing and Dog Brain needed to know what it was and anyway that's how you accidentally spit embers into your friend's face, sorry Leaf). Focus, focus, and exhale—

Tiny cinders flew from his mouth and scattered across the pile of scrap wood. Too scattered—not enough to cause more than a pathetic little puff of smoke, and that lasted a whopping three seconds before it might as well never have been there at all. The only way that could've been worse was if he'd been close enough to the busy part of town for anyone to actually witness that colossal embarrassment.

Blue just about managed to catch the growl before it slipped out, forcing the air into a sigh of frustration instead. Of course. He'd been making some actual progress the past couple days, when Leaf had been here to show him all the "being a pokémon" ropes. There'd been honest-to-god fire once, even. So surely he just needed to keep at it. Maybe even easier today, what with less weird background psychic fuzz jabbing at the corners of his brain. Golden, right?

Ahaha. Nope. He comes out here by himself and straight garbage, all afternoon. Couldn't even ask what he was doing wrong, because Linden had to be off somewhere else doing one of the fifteen jobs she'd apparently taken on since landing here. Big bad gym leader, champion, guy who'd brought out the best anyone'd ever seen in a charizard since Samuel Oak, he knew fire pokémon, he'd thought he was actually starting to get used to being one, and all he had to show for it was a whole lotta nothing.

Heat sizzled unbidden along Blue's back and up the sides of his face. He dug his claws into the soil and stuffed it back down, willed himself to focus it all back into his core. Deep breath. Hold it for a beat. Feel the sparks inside his chest building into fire, c'mon, Oak, you're better than this, actual god damn fire, aim, and—

Blue spluttered as the cinders caught in his throat, missing the woodpile entirely. Smoke curled from his mouth as he coughed. And growled. Thank god nobody was loitering around at the edge of town right now.

 

[Chibi Pika]

(Shortly after the events of Prism Hollow...)

Yep, Jade was feeling it now. She'd been relatively sure that the only thing keeping her going this far was the residual adrenaline of the battle combined with the post-evolution high.

It'd been a pretty easy walk back back from the mission, all things considered. No one gave the Wayfarers any trouble at the manor, given that they'd managed to rescue all the staff that'd been stranded underground for months. It was a thoroughly awkward parting, but one that was over quickly, and Betel's Waypoints made for a short trip home.

(Starr couldn't use the Waypoints, and wouldn't be returning to Frontier Town. Brisa had promised to look after her. The two of them were probably on the train to Novelux by now. Jade couldn't help thinking about them.)

In any case, now that the end was within sight, the bone-deep exhaustion of everything they'd been through was creeping up on her all at once, along with the residual echoes of what had felt like every bone in her body shattering. Not to mention the awkward, ungainly sensation of walking with too-long limbs that weren't balanced right for standing on hind legs anymore. She'd gotten used to being a Meowth, and now she'd have to get used to a new body all over again.

But that could wait. Jade was ready to sleep for a week. And then maybe after that she could start thinking about how to approach things with Starr.

Virga walked slightly behind Jade on the well-worn trail that led into Frontier Town. Lyra had done a good job healing her mangled wing, but now it needed rest, which meant flying was off the table for a few days at least. The Corvisquire had been oddly silent since the mission's end, not that Jade had much to talk about on her end either. She kept catching weird flickers of aggravation through their link, though.

"Doing alright?" Jade asked idly.

"It's nothing," Virga said with a huff, which meant that it wasn't. "I just hope that by the next time we see combat, I'll have attained greater strength."

Ah, the usual. Jade folded her arms behind her head and replied, "Well, you guys are growing pretty quickly. I wouldn't be surprised if you evolve again soon."

Virga glanced away, clacking her beak. "I also hope to finally regain my true power. That otter was able to reclaim his. There's no reason I shouldn't be able to."

Oh, right, Dustin. The Aeroblast at the river training. Jade still wasn't too sure what determined how much an offworlder could draw on their powers from back home. Several members of the group had managed it, so... she couldn't think of any reason why Virga wouldn't be able to.

"It'll probably come to you at some point," Jade said.

"Mm," Virga replied noncommittally.

Jade furrowed her brow. Something else, then. Well, she wasn't in the mood to pry it out, so she was content to just igno—

"You were able to use my power," Virga said flatly, eyes narrowed.

Here it comes. Jade let out a tired sigh, running a paw down her face. "That's just, like, my thing here."

"Your 'thing'?"

"Yeah, like... I can reach for my teammates' energy and copy it like it's mine. I've done it a bunch, I just... wasn't expecting that to be something I could copy."

Virga stopped walking mid-step and blinked at her, clearly taken aback. "That's it?"

"That's it," Jade echoed. "If anything, that just proves you do still have that power, deep down. If I was able to copy it."

Virga was silent for a long moment. "I... see." The Corvisquire resumed walking, head held noticeably higher. "It must be close, then. I'll have to resume my training as soon as this wing has healed."

Jade trailed behind her, rolling her eyes once she was sure she wouldn't be seen. Somehow, that'd gone better than she'd been expecting.

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[canisaries]

Ben didn't know what exactly had possessed him to come out here.

He'd found a letter slipped underneath his door at the Haus this morning. It was short, and it had read the following:

Hi, Ben. It's Andre.

It seems that our time here is soon coming to a close.

If we have anything to say to one another before we forget all this, we should say it now. If there is anything we want to do, we should do it now.

Come meet me at the specified location at 3 PM today.

Thanks in advance,
Andre Duval

There had been a little map of Frontier Town attached, one Ben supposed Andre must have traced from another map, drawing in the most distinct locations and leaving the rest as blobs of buildings. A red X marked a spot on the outskirts.

Ben carried that map now, and had followed it to the marked location. He had no way to tell the exact time, but he believed it was near 3 PM. Andre should be showing up soon.

Ben, of course, hadn't come unprepared. He'd packed plenty of healing items in case this monster of a man was going to ambush him. He'd also informed quite a few people of where he was going and who was going to be there, so if he went missing, they'd know who to blame.

But, in all honesty, Ben didn't really think Andre would attack him. The human-turned-deerling would surely know that killing or hurting Ben here would accomplish nothing. That, and Ben reluctantly had to admit that Andre had never actively wished harm upon him in particular - only his trainer.

He shoved the map into his satchel and waited. It wasn't long before a familiar lanky quadruped appeared from deeper into the town. The deerling, spotting Ben, trotted over. He slowed down and stopped a few meters away as he noticed Ben tensing up.

"Hey," he greeted, looking ashamed.

"Hey yourself," Ben said, offering no sympathy.

"Thank you… for coming," Andre said. "I'm sure it wasn't easy."

"Cut to the chase," the teddi grunted.

Andre sighed. "I said in my letter that we should say the things we need to say to one another now," he began. "Of course, I've said what I've wanted to say multiple times by now. It's that I'm sorry."

"And I've told you multiple times that it's not good enough."

"I know."

A beat of silence.

"What would be good enough, Ben?" Andre then asked.

Ben wasn't sure what to say. 'Bring back Mike' wasn't possible. 'Have yourself committed' was something Andre had already tried. 'Kill yourself'? He'd apparently also tried that, and despite how much Ben loathed Andre, it felt like a ghoulish suggestion anyway.

"I don't know," Ben said. "I don't think there's anything good enough."

Andre was quiet for a spell. Then he spoke up again. "We can try something."

Ben frowned. "And what would that be?"

Andre sprouted a vine and grabbed his glasses. He walked a few meters away and set them down on the dusty ground alongside the rest of the belongings on his person before returning. Ben's brow quirked.

"Hurt me," Andre said.

Ben blinked. "What?"

"Hurt me," Andre repeated, now more emphatically.

"...No," Ben said - though he found himself questioning why he was turning this opportunity down quite quickly.

"Think about it, Ben," the deerling said. "This is the only chance you'll have of hurting me for the rest of your life. This is the only chance you have to make me feel even just a tiny bit of the suffering I inflicted upon Mike. Do you really want to throw this away?"

Ben hesitated. "Well, the last time I attacked you, you --"

"I stabbed you. I know. It won't happen this time. I'm unarmed, and I'm used to battling from my time on Forlas."

"What about the battles to come? Won't you need to be in good shape for those?"

"People heal faster here," Andre said. "Especially us Wayfarers with how strong we are by now. I'll be fine."

Ben grasped a paw. He really didn't know what to do…

"I'll make it easy for you," Andre said.

"What do you mea-"

"I'm the reason Mike is dead, Ben."

Ben's jaw clenched.

"I'm the reason Mike is nothing now. Everything he was, every memory he had, every dream and aspiration - gone."

The deerling's words struck deep. The teddi swallowed. "Shut up," he said.

"Anything he might have gone on to do will never happen. Anything he would have told you - any words of affection or encouragement - you'll never hear it now."

"Shut up!" Ben said, tears beginning to form in his eyes.

Andre, however, was unfazed. All he did was hold that cold, resigned stare and keep saying the worst words imaginable. "He will never congratulate you on a match well fought again. He will not celebrate with you. He will not even hold a gaze on you."

As Ben sniffled, sorrow began to morph into rage. How dare he say these things? How dare he add such insult to injury? Doesn't he know how much it hurts?

"His body is not in a grave, and it never will be. It was cut up into pieces and handed over to a bunch of professional criminals. It was probably thrown in a river, or maybe broken down by acids in a bathtub in a warehouse somewhere."

"Shut up!" snapped Ben, stepping up to Andre. "Shut the fuck up! You don't have the right to say these things!"

But Andre only stared, his face blank.

"He," the deerling said, "will never know you were in love with him."

Before Ben could understand what was happening, his claws had already torn three gashes across Andre's face.

The deerling had whined and winced, but not lost his footing. He kept standing, and he looked at Ben through squinted eyes.

Ben looked at his claws. Blood. It had been a while since he'd drawn it. Usually any opponents he faced in battle had been charged up to their battle state which shielded the body from sharp attacks.

He recalled the words of his tutor.

"Once blood has been drawn, the battle's over."

"Did that feel good?" Andre asked. His voice wavered. "You can do it again. As many times as it takes."

Ben glanced at the deerling.

For the first time since he'd recognized Andre on Forlas, he didn't see a monster.

He saw a pathetic, pathetic creature who simply didn't understand. Didn't understand people, didn't understand love, didn't understand justice. A creature that now knew he didn't understand those things, but had come no closer to doing so. A creature that would never understand.

Ben could no longer hate such a creature. It would have been like hating a feral dragon for trying to hunt people. Instead, he only felt pity.

Something odd then happened.

A warmth spread through Ben's body. His fur began to glow. The white light overtook his body, blinded his vision, remolded him.

When he saw again, he looked down on Andre from the height of an ursaring.

"What…" he got out, and noticed his voice had grown just a bit deeper, more resounding. Like it had been at home.

"Oh," said Andre. "Congratulations…"

Ben felt an absence on his hip and looked down to see his satchel on the ground, its strap torn. He picked it up. It seemed so small now in his new paws…

He then looked back to Andre.

"So, will you… will you hurt me some more?" the deerling asked. He sounded like he really didn't want to be hurt anymore, and yet also like he did.

Ben eyed Andre. "No," he then said. "There's no point. And it's not the person I am." He turned towards the city and began walking off.

"But…" Andre still tried. "You won't get to hurt me any more after this. You won't get to make me suffer. You won't get to avenge Mike!"

Ben threw a stern glance at the wounded deerling, and he shrank.

"You don't understand," said Ben. "I'm not like you."

With that, he left, not looking back.

He didn't meet Andre again for the next few days.

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