[attr="class","aurelie"]

[attr="class","aurelie_body"]Though Aurelie didn't realize that Zev assumed her question about Calyrex using him as a mouthpiece had been in jest, rather than in at least partial earnest—inspired by Cillian Quinn's thoughts and queries on the matter—his response seemed pretty much right for Zev. He'd never seemed like the type who would allow anyone power over him, either.

When he spoke about motivations, though, particularly those of the powerful Legendary Pokemon, her eye widened. Everything he said made sense, even if she'd never put it that way in her own mind before. But to have it be Zev talking to her like this...

Is he actually explaining his whole thought process to me? Or thinking aloud in front of me? Aurelie wondered. Or, even weirder still, is he trying to educate me? Help me?

Shaking off the unsettling thought, the red-haired smith sighed and spread her hands wide in a gesture of perplexity. "I wish I knew! I have no idea why it wants a saddle or shield. I would assume it wants to use them, but it's never spoken to me again, let alone offered any clarification on the issue."

Thinking back to the last words that she'd actually heard the King Pokemon say to her, Aurelie mused, "Calyrex did speak of a 'familiar, ominous force' drawing near, so we must prepare for...umm, I think for...'the impending clash of war.'" She curved her fingers in air quotes.

"So, it seemed like it wanted to be ready for war. The familiar, ominous force... The first thing I thought of was Eternatus, of course, because we saw it in the..."

Abruptly, Aurelie trailed off, her brow creasing in a frown as she looked at Zev. "I should ask first, I guess. Do you still not remember the dream we all...well, dreamed together in front of the Ancient Tomb, almost a year ago? The dream that this Calyrex came from?"

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

[attr="class","aurelie"]

[attr="class","aurelie_body"]If I'd known it'd be like this, I would've brought a sweater, Aurelie found herself thinking suddenly, irrelevantly, as Jayden's emphatic declaration reverberated around the office. Except I don't just need a sweater for my body. I need one for my soul too! Arceus, these chills!

She didn't even know what qualified as a sweater for the soul. Therapy, maybe? Well, certainly both she and Jayden could probably use some.

At the moment, though, all Aurelie had was a knife and his instructions. For a moment, she was sorely tempted to simply give Jayden a light scratch, just deep enough to make him bleed. With the way his eyes just flashed a startling, spectacular crystalline-blue, though, she suddenly doubted he'd be satisfied with such a halfhearted gesture.

"If you say so, sir," she answered aloud respectfully, seeking to keep her teeth from chattering in the deepening chill. A laugh escaped her as she added in a lighter tone, "Then, I guess...try your best to take it easy on me, instead."

The red-haired smith lifted the knife, which she held in a simple grip with her fingers wrapped around its hilt, like she would hold a hammer, and narrowed her eye. Automatically, she scanned Jayden briefly for weak points, even though she hardly knew what she was looking for. Even in his fragile-looking state, the admin still exuded menace.

Taking a deep breath, Aurelie went with a basic knife fighting maneuver. Sweeping the knife in a quick, curving slash in a feint to hopefully raise his guard and buy her space to close in, she stepped toward Jayden at the same time. Then, on the backstroke, she lowered the knife and aimed a short, sharp stab at his unprotected left arm.

Aurelie knew it wasn't a real fight, and Jayden hadn't asked for anything but a cut. But if he wanted to see how it'd feel to cut and be cut by these knives in combat, then she would do her best to simulate one.

If it wasn't what he wanted...well. Then, she'd regret not just inflicting a small scratch on his palm.

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

[attr="class","aurelie"]

[attr="class","aurelie_body"]When Caleb ordered his coffee and assured her that he was okay, Aurelie found herself relaxing a little at the normality of it all. She even felt relieved that he didn't seem more wounded in body and spirit by his ordeals. Clearly, he's stronger than I am, because I know I wouldn't deal with it so gracefully, she reflected.

Then, he broke down and told her the truth, and Aurelie's calm expression crumpled into a look of grief, pain, and sympathy. Instinctively, she reached out to take his other hand but stopped herself, not sure how he would take the gesture in a moment of such heightened emotions.

"Oh, Caleb," she breathed, her heart aching at his words. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry you had to go through all that and...I'm sorry it was so hard for you and it left you in such a bad place."

The words felt so inadequate in her mouth. Especially when she was still part of Rocket, the organization that had inflicted this on him. Even the sunlight filtering through the windows seemed dimmer and colder now.

Hesitantly, Aurelie ventured, her words emerging in stuttered fragments, "I...I did hear a little bit about what happened to you. Through Isaac. A few months ago. He said he went looking for you...when you disappeared...after we all woke up at the Ancient Tomb."

A shudder rippled through her as she bared her teeth in a grimace. "He said you'd been kidnapped by...by Rocket, of all things. And Isaac dragged you out and got you home."

The very thought of it made Aurelie angry, but she couldn't tell right now what the source of her anger was. Was it that these things had happened to Caleb? That Rocket had been foolish enough to do all this to him? Or was it that this sequence of events had caused Isaac to leave Rocket? That Caleb had caused Isaac to defect?

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," she added quietly, lowering her gaze. "I'm not a therapist, after all! But if you want to... She shrugged and glanced back up at him.

"I guess at least I wanted to find out if it was all true. It's so hard to believe that all that happened to you. It's insane that there are people out there who do things like that."

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

[attr="class","aurelie"]

[attr="class","aurelie_body"]As everyone declared their votes, Aurelie's lips twisted in annoyance. While she could sympathize with the desire to abstain, she sensed those who voted Ugly were the type who were used to being in power and believed they were smarter than everyone else in the room. She didn't recognize those voters, and she imagined she certainly wouldn't after their misplaced nobility eventually led to them smashing their own bodies into a bloody, flayed, shattered mess under Fezandipiti's beguilement.

For now, though, only the feverish Ugly voter and his luckless cellmate were beaten. Wincing with each meaty blow, Aurelie instinctively reached out toward oscar clayton, whose voice she did recognize, but she was too far away in line to offer comfort or a bandage for his bleeding.

Already sickened by the heat, Toxic Chain, and brutality, she felt an overwhelming wave of nausea when Fezandipiti whisked them airborne. To her shame, the redhead retched up water and bits of mochi as they flew through the seemingly never-ending hallway, turning her head so it landed harmlessly below. After their masks fell off, she gratefully gulped huge breaths of cool air to settle her stomach.

Though, with her eyepatch taken away, like all their belongings, Aurelie hurriedly clapped one hand over her right eye to hide the scars that had undoubtedly earned her her place here.

Then she looked rapidly from face to revealed face, many of which were vaguely familiar—including the haggard yet elegant features of her own cellmate freya morningstar, oddly. Though not as familiar as the Megalopolan general who spoke to them. Velmos? Aurelie thought incredulously. Why is he here? Distantly, she remembered a blond woman (Lulu Flint in disguise) mentioning his name to their captors in Route 119 and their snarled response that Velmos was a traitor and hated turncoat.

The redhead was so startled that she didn't resist or even respond at first when offered a glimpse into the crystalline mask. She caught her breath as an unexpected vision unfolded through its eyeholes.

---

---

Drawing away reluctantly from the mask, Aurelie let out a shuddering laugh, her cheeks and eyepatch damp with tears. That's all I want from life, is it? she thought. Not conquest, not power, not even a harem of gorgeous men and women... Just mundane contentment. Just normality.

In the communal shower, she enthusiastically stripped off her sweaty uniform to stand happily naked under the near-scalding water. Accustomed to heat and flames, Aurelie didn't flinch as it poured down her body and cleansed off the grime. She studied her fellow prisoners anew, marveling at their physical beauty and fitness and amused that they had all been sorted into the Ugly ward.

I wonder what makes us all so ugly, in the Megalopolans' eyes, she thought. And...I wonder what everyone else saw in the mask. It couldn't be the same things I saw. And I wonder if it was really a reward...or just another enticement... Her eye lingered on the Toxic Chains that still entwined them all, pulsing a malignant, noxious purple.

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

[attr="class","aurelie"]

[attr="class","aurelie_body"]Considering the intense interest that Zev used to take in the make and material of his knives, Aurelie was surprised to see his decided lack of concern for the design and construction of Calyrex's saddle and shield. Was it just because the saddle and shield weren't his? Did he only care about weapons? Or was it yet another change wrought by his alliance with Necrozma?

Whatever the reason, he clearly doesn't care, she mentally grumbled. What else is new?

Instead, what he seemed to care about was Calyrex itself. Again, though, what else was new? Since the mysterious High King Pokemon unexpectedly appeared in the real world, everyone was curious to know what it wanted or what it'd do next. Aurelie only wished she had more insight to offer in that regard.

"No, Calyrex hasn't spoken a word to me since," she answered, sighing. "Sometimes, it suddenly appears in the workshop while I'm working, as if it were supervising or monitoring my progress.

"But when it does..." She narrowed her eye and smiled humorlessly. "It never gives any sign of listening to me or responding to me if I try to ask it questions. Then it disappears or leaves just as abruptly."

Aurelie hesitated, before admitting, "It's by far the strangest customer-craftsman relationship I've ever been part of. But that's all it is. Calyrex really just feels like a very snoopy, nosy, yet unresponsive customer."

Crossing her arms, the red-haired smith tilted her head inquisitively toward Zev and raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask? Are you volunteering to be possessed by the Calyrex so it can use you as a mouthpiece, by any chance?"

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

[attr="class","aurelie"]

[attr="class","aurelie_body"]Absorbed in the task of putting finishing touches on a solid steel skillet commissioned by a local chef in Lilycove City, Aurelie almost missed the bright blue light flashing in her workshop. It was part of the alert system that let her know someone was at the front counter of her shop, along with a shrill, ear-splitting airhorn. It was the latter that got her attention, making her jump to her feet.

Dammit, how long have they been waiting? Aurelie thought with alarm. I should've been paying more attention...

Not even putting down the skillet, the red-haired smith whisked off her safety goggles and leather apron with one hand and quickly hurried into the shop. Bustling through the door, she spotted a young man with blue hair leaning back against the front counter, looking around. Almost automatically, she pasted on a friendly customer-service smile as she walked toward him.

"Hi! Sorry if I kept you waiting," Aurelie exclaimed a little breathlessly by way of greeting. "Welcome to the Iron Lady Forge. I'm Aurelie Lefevre, the, uh, the proprietor of this fine establishment."

Her smile turned impish at those last words, acknowledging her own self-congratulatory tone. Clearing her throat, the red-haired smith continued, "Anyway, how can I help you? Are you looking for anything in particular? Maybe a..."

She looked around at her shop and then down at the skillet still clutched in her right hand, as if she'd only just remembered it was there. Brandishing it in front of her, Aurelie chuckled in what she hoped was a charming and disarming fashion. "Can I interest you in some hand-forged steel cookware, maybe? Or has anything else around the shop caught your eye, sir?"

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

[attr="class","aurelie"]

[attr="class","aurelie_body"]When Aurelie saw the competence and certainty with which Cillian approached the assorted aluminum pieces and began fitting them together, she sighed in relief. As he began to assemble the beginnings of the saddle, the red-haired smith actually felt safe trusting him to do the work, while she returned to pull the hot metal from the forge and began hammering on it.

Not with her own arm, though—Aurelie used the electric power hammer for the arduous task of beating the heated ingot into a flat sheet of metal. If she tried doing this manually, she was pretty sure her arms would fall off from the strain! Keeping the ingot level in her tongs, she carefully turned and moved the metal to ensure it was being compressed to a uniform size and thickness.

From the corner of her eye, the red-haired smith quietly monitored Cillian's progress as well. Under his meticulous approach, Aurelie could see the Galarian saddle slowly but surely taking shape. She found herself glad he'd volunteered to help, no matter what mixed feelings he stirred up.

Aurelie also found herself frowning as she watched. Despite the underboss' best efforts, some pieces simply didn't click together neatly, while others were misshapen or asymmetrical. These were clearly her own mistakes in molding and casting the pieces, or possibly even in the initial design of the saddle parts.

It took a while for the metal to be flattened satisfactorily into a smooth, even sheet. By the time she felt comfortable setting it down and coming to inspect the saddle's progress, Cillian seemed nearly done. She stood a few paces behind him and watched, crossing her arms.

"Well," she commented finally, "I think that looks nearly done. You've done a very admirable job, sir. Thank you."

Balling her fists at her sides, Aurelie muttered in a lower, grimmer tone, "I hate it."

Hastily, she raised her hand to interpose and explain herself, realizing how she sounded and not wanting him to take offense. "I mean, I don't hate your work. I think you did great! It looks as close to a saddle as I think anyone could have made it look, considering the pieces I gave you to work with. I just...I just..."

Falling silent for a moment, she clutched at her hair briefly in frustration. "I don't think this is how the saddle should look. There's too many loose pieces, too many parts that don't fit well, and too many places that seem overly heavy and stiff. I...I think..."

She took a few deep breaths to steady herself, her eye narrowing in calculation and the muscles in her jaw rippling as she gritted her teeth. Finally, Aurelie declared, with a grimace, "I'm sorry to have wasted all your hard work with this saddle, sir, but I want to start over.

"I'd like to mold the saddle bottom—the tree, did you call it?—and the housing, pommel, seat, and all that again, but thinner and more pliable. Then I want to weld the parts on one by one instead of puzzling them together like this. I think then it would look closer to how a normal saddle looks and not quite so clunky and off-balanced like it looks now."

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

[attr="class","aurelie"]

[attr="class","aurelie_body"]By all rights, when Jayden walked into the training room and the temperature inside plummeted like a stone, Aurelie should have been quaking in her shoes with fear and dread. After all, he was one of Rocket's most formidable warriors and enforcers, as well as the avatar of a fearsome Ruinous Beast. Together or apart, they were a deadly force of nature that could massacre her in the blink of an eye.

Yet, even as she pulled on the sweater she'd mindfully brought beforehand, Aurelie felt warmed and pleased by his presence. After all, Jayden had showered her with praise, patronage, and gifts. He'd saved her life in the depths of Area Zero, wreaking bloodshed and mayhem on the DRK Triad agents.

And he was here to help her, simply because she'd asked, even though he only vaguely knew why she needed him. Who wouldn't find that at least a little heartwarming?

The red-haired smith did shiver as his Legendary patron's piercing gaze filled her with the visceral terror of a prey animal being eyed by a powerful carnivore. Aurelie gulped hard and forced herself to look back at Jayden. She hurried forward to welcome him, reaching out to clasp his hands in hers.

"Admin Cross! Thank you so much for coming! I'm so glad you're here," she exclaimed in a cheerful rush of words. "And no, I haven't been waiting long. I got here early to set everything up, but you're right on time."

She nodded emphatically when he asked whether the sheets of metal had come from his Christmas gift. "Yes, absolutely! Some of these were definitely yours. I can't begin to thank you enough for them, even now.

"A lot of those alloys were unique and rare enough—at least, by my standards—that I wanted to save them for something truly special," Aurelie explained. "And, well, I think this qualifies, right?"

At this point, the red-haired smith cleared her throat and lifted her chin, rubbing her hands briskly to signal she wanted to announce something. Or perhaps just to hide her nerves. "So, what I was thinking, Admin, is that first, I'd like to consult with you on saddles. Saddle design, shapes, materials, accessories, all of that. I know you ride, and I don't really, so..."

Her lips curled into a self-deprecating smile, as she continued. "And after we're done with that, I'd, um. Well. I'd like to borrow both you and your patron." Aurelie nodded at Chien Pao. "You remember, of course, how your patron's blades were enough to damage even the Zamazenta's shield, in front of the Ancient Tomb."

And I can't even imagine what he's done with them since, she reflected. Or what it was like when they first bonded. Somehow, I don't think it happened with hugs and candy.

"Now, I know these metals around here," Aurelie went on, waving her hand at the assorted sheets, "aren't up to Zamazenta's shield. But I wanted to see how well they hold up to you and your patron's attacks, all the same. Even if it means they all end up full of rips and holes."

Taking a deep breath, she looked uncertainly up at Jayden's face, seeking to read his expression for signs of either agreement or disapproval. "Does that sound good to you, sir?"

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

[attr="class","aurelie"]

[attr="class","aurelie_body"]Though Zev's comment about the quality of her work was flattering—and all the more so because she knew he didn't perceive her as someone worth lying to—she felt no qualms about referring him to other smiths. After all, Aurelie knew very well what her best, most productive working pace was. If she forced herself to do more, she knew from experience that accidents would happen, things would get missed, and the quality he'd praised would degrade.

She wasn't going to force herself to go to such lengths. She had no need to prove herself and no desire to compromise her high standards of craftmanship. It wasn't worth it for him, Rocket, or her.

So, when he asked her to write down some names to look into, the red-haired smith simply nodded and reached for the nearest piece of paper and pencil. Some of the smiths she listed were very, very good, better than she was in some aspects. Others were at least passable enough to make simple, functional knives on request.

"Here you are, ranked in order of experience and skill," she said at last, sliding the sheet over to him. "At least, by my estimation, anyway. I'm willing to take on the Pyroar's share of the work, of course, but I can't do everything."

Unlike you, I still need to eat, sleep, and pay my bills, Aurelie thought, looking up at him. Fleetingly, she wondered how much such human needs still concerned him. Do you even get tired anymore, Zev? Do you ever feel ill, or hurt, or weak now?

Her gaze sharpened when he then shifted the conversation to her commission from Calyrex. As tempted as she was to make wisecracks about how popular she'd gotten since the mysterious King Pokemon had turned to her and asked for a saddle and shield, though, she decided against it. Aurelie's sense of humor had never landed well with Zev, much to her disappointment.

"The commission for Calyrex is going well," she reported crisply, her eye brightening with enthusiasm. "It took a long time to figure out a workable design for a metal saddle, which I've never made before in my life. I still can't imagine why it requested such a thing, when 99% of saddles are leather and that last 1% is usually wood."

Aurelie chattered on happily, "As for the shield, I've undergone testing with one of Rocket's other avatars to find a strong, durable alloy that's still be light enough to be maneuverable. It won't be as strong as whatever Zamazenta's shield was made up of, but then—what is? My design should be usable for ground and mounted combat and even maybe for a little bit of offense as well as defense."

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

[attr="class","aurelie"]

[attr="class","aurelie_body"]Aurelie jerked her head up, startled, when the Galarian Moltres let out the deep, guttural hissing sound, the hairs on the back of her neck rising at the harsh, fearsome sound. To her, it absolutely sounded like the voice of a predator out for blood, seeking to ravage her flesh—or perhaps her mind, given its psychic powers. It was all she could do not to yelp in fear.

To her surprise—though, a moment later, she realized that she shouldn't have been surprised at all—the admin hardly reacted at all. In fact, if anything, Admin Bee's expression warmed and his eyes brightened as he met his patron's fierce stygian gaze. Taking heart from his calm, Aurelie watched in wonder.

"It seems like you two understand each other pretty well already," she ventured cautiously, when the great Legendary bird made no further ominous noises or moves. "So...this was the Moltres that you saw come out of the Violet Book, right? How long did it take for you to find it?"

There was so much more that Aurelie wanted to ask, but she didn't dare quite yet, not with both their eyes on her. Given the sinister reputation of the Galarian Moltres, though, the fact that it and the admin were seemingly in such accord was rather disturbing. She wondered what powers it had given him.

Can they read each other's thoughts? Do they speak to each other telepathically? the red-haired smith guessed, stealing another glance up at the Dyna tree and its occupant. Can he—oh Arceus—can he set people on fire with his mind now?

The redhead almost missed Admin Bee's question, so dazzled was she by this new thought. It was only when he fell silent that she realized he'd turned the conversation on her. Her mind scrambled to recall the words she'd half-heard a few seconds ago.

"As for me..." Aurelie sighed and looked down briefly at her hands in her lap in bemusement. "If you mean the Calyrex, well, I suppose it liked my stories and my skills. I don't really know why. It's certainly unique to have a Pokemon as a customer, though!

"But that's as far as my bond with this Calyrex goes," she went on, frowning slightly. "It's a contract between a craftsman and customer, nothing more, from what I can tell. A rather snoopy customer, too, though not a very communicative one." She shook her head slightly in wry puzzlement.

Aurelie sat up straighter on the bench at the mention of the work itself. "But the commission itself is going well, thank you for asking! There's been a lot of trial and error, because I've never made a saddle before, let alone one from metal.

"The shield has been fun to work on, though! I added spikes to it, so it's been an interesting challenge making sure it's still light and maneuverable. Especially if Calyrex will be using it."

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

[attr="class","aurelie"]

[attr="class","aurelie_body"]Touched by her cellmate's trust in sharing her name, Aurelie vowed to be worthy of it as best she could. The name rang a bell, though it was hard to place it in the confusion of her mind. For now, she answered, "I'm Aurelie Lefevre. I only wish we'd met in better circumstances..."

Much to Aurelie's relief, the Ugly ward managed to finish their work of cleaning and polishing the tera crystals without incident. Fleetingly, she wondered, Who else is here? What is this never-rot they keep referring to? Who's watching us?

With the announcement of the Ugly ward being rewarded with a trip to the Chamber of Desires, though, all questions were forgotten in a flood of thankfulness. The transformation of the Toxic Chain now connecting her to her fellow prisoners continued to revolt her. But then the crystals in the ceiling began broadcasting images...

Gazing at the images displayed across the ceiling, the red-haired smith winced. Several people from the other wards writhed in their Toxic Chains, which tormented them into giving up their stolen crystals. Behind her mask, she squeezed her eye shut at the sight of two brutally beaten bodies hanging limply in their chains.

But then, Aurelie's eye spasmed wide in shock and outrage as the ceiling tera crystals showed two Megalopolans smashing a series of Pokeballs on an assembly line with wooden hammers. A broken cry escaped her lips at the last image: the very Gigaton Ball of howard slayte's that she'd helped repair, being crushed to bits.

"You bastards! You monsters!" she hissed furiously, her eye filling with tears at the memory of her handiwork being ruthlessly destroyed. "That ball was art! Oh, and there was a living being inside it, too. How can you do this?!"

It wasn't the last of the horrors being inflicted on them. Her grip on her cellmate's—on Freya's—hand tightened as the sadistic choices were given. Were there any displays of democracy or voting in Hoenn that didn't turn out to be horrible?

When Yuina Higashi forcefully abstained, though, the redhead went cold all over as though she'd just swallowed ice. She remembered another vote and her own abstention, and how pointless her gesture had been. I don't want that to happen again, Aurelie thought, where terrible things happened and I let them, when I could have done something. Anything.

Others began to vote, including Freya. Aurelie swallowed, looking back at the now-blank tera crystals in the ceiling. Aloud, she said, "I vote...Dummy. Better that fewer people should suffer, even if it's not a very large difference."

A choice she would never have made if she had known who was in that ward. But she didn't know. She hadn't clearly recognized anyone from the images; all she knew were the number of people in each ward and what their members had done.

Besides, a darker, more cynical part of her thought, I'd much rather have weaklings on my side than fools...

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT