When reality remade itself, he immediately noticed the differences. He was standing. Was dressed. Most notably he was no longer within his own home. As he glanced around the place he now found himself in, he could feel something tingling at the back of his mind. It was unfamiliar to him….and yet, somehow it was. His lips twisted into a frown, brow furrowed in consternation as he tried to reconcile this anomaly. It wasn’t until a huffy Houndoom stalked past his eyeline, grumbling irritably, that it clicked. A quick glance down confirmed his new suspicion; he recognized this outfit. A brief turn of his head towards the door.

Knock knock

And there it is. All the pieces of the puzzle fit together all at once for him, and to say it had an effect would be a massive understatement. Multiple emotions welled up within him, completely out of his control as he briefly drowned in the feelings. Anger. Hatred. Loathing. Regret. Despair. The surge of feeling overwhelmed him to the point he briefly lost his footing, and for a few moments it was all he could do to even remain standing. Fortunately, despite his wife’s feelings, he was ever stubborn. Gritting his teeth he wrenched his mind back under control, forcing the wellspring down into the pit to be dealt with later, if ever. ”Solo un memento!”

From a nearby table he plucked up three pokéballs. The first returned the now sputtering hound. As the ball thrashed about in his hand he quickly moved into a side room of his quarters, placing it down and turning to release the other two. Turning to the Prinplup and Bisharp that had just appeared,the look on his face and tone of his voice gave little doubt as to his mood. ”Lei non lascia questa stanza. Fai quello che devi.” Two nods were all he needed for confirmation, and so he left them be, pausing only to lock the door from the outside.

By the time he had reached the front door, any hint of his true state was buried, his eyes bright, smile charming as he opened it to the girl on the other side. ”Buonasera mia bella. A cosa devo il piacere?” He knew why she was here, of course, but there was no point in revealing that. It would only confuse her and likely derail matters, something he was not about to allow. Not again.

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Her brief confusion tempted his own for just a moment, before the realization came though. Ah, of course He was falling back into old habits. Despite his displeasure at that fact it was easy enough to ignore, and the smile on his face did not even falter. ”Mi scusi. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?” He allowed her to speak, his own eyes slowly trailing over her face, remembering the youthful exuberance, the shine in her eyes. Most of all he drunk in her beauty, struck now as he was everyday by the woman he had fallen for all these years ago. He took the jacket without even glancing at it, having realized long ago just how little it mattered. ”Grazie, Aubre.” Her cheeks reddened, and he felt his heart constrict. The knowledge that this might be the last time he sees it ripping through him. His eyes dimmed slightly, but he maintained his facade. It was a skill, afterall, and one he had mastered a long, long time ago.

It was, nevertheless, difficult to maintain such when the question of the wretched canine was broached. He almost frowned, his feelings towards what had once been a companion welling up once more, but he managed to just keep it in check. ”She is perfectly fine, I assure. Not happy, of course; she has been sulking all evening. Rest assured that nothing more than her pride was injured, however.” He paused a moment. Should he…? It did not take long for him to determine that there could be little harm in the attempt, and so he held the door open, turning to the side. ”Have you had dinner yet? If you’d like to come in, I would be happy to prepare something. Call it a celebratory event, if you will. A little gift to congratulate you on your performance in the trials.” He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all a waste of time, but likewise….he couldn’t ignore the part of his mind telling him to try.

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The night vanished in a rush, racing past seemingly faster than he could remember. She had accepted. They’d had dinner and wine, whether too much or not enough he could not determine. He’d invited her to stay. She’d agreed. Breakfast and then lunch and then day after day after day. Time seemed to rush past him like a fierce wind, yet one made of sights, sounds, scents, touches. Every moment with her filled him with her warmth.

On the other hand, were things of an altogether different nature. Unsurprisingly, Cassiopeia had attempted an escape. It had not gone well. Fortunately Aubre had been too tipsy to notice, and in the end his hands had closed upon her in a vice. It had not been a simple matter, as the moment she beast aware of Aubre’s presence the beast had gone berserk. Nevertheless, Aetius and Tiberius had emerged relatively intact, and for her he no longer cared. He had tossed her aside to his brother, and her fate from there was never spared another thought.

From there time accelerated. Days passing in moments, weeks in seconds, an ever hastening blur. They began dating. University came and went. They were wed, far sooner than before. A child, precious and beautiful, soon followed by another, and another. Their home was filled with laughter, shouts, cries. Warmth. For the first time he felt….he was not sure. Something. It was what he longed for, what he dearly wished had happened, what he was no longer certain would happen.

More and more time passed, years now blitzing past his eyes. Children grew. They fought. They left. They came back. I suoi nonni, his solid rocks, passed from the world. He broke. She put him back together. They both succeeded where the past had gone. The Family was his. He purged it of indolence. Aubre became more powerful than she had ever dreamed. She was at her peak. Champion. They could have nothing more, no matter how they might have asked. Yet neither ever did. They were happy.

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Then came blood. His wretched blood. Unwilling to accept the war they came with fire and fury, putting years of careful work to the torch, disrupting his perfect order. Try as he might, it could not be contained, and soon it spilled into the minds of the peasants. The Champion. Married to a criminal. It disgraced her. Broke her heart. Her strength faltered and left her. She broke, and try as he might, he did not know how to fit the pieces back together. His world burned as he turned its back on it, caring for nothing but healing his shattered angel.

In the end, he could not. What he had shattered he could not repair, and only fire could relight the spark he smothered. And fire came, hot, terrible, all consuming. The masses turned to their heroes to shield them from the conflagration of armageddon. They looked to their Leaders, the Elites, and most of all to the Champions, now and before.

It was so like her to throw her life away for someone else.

Despite how she felt, despite all his pleading, Aubre could not ignore another’s plight. He did everything he could to protect her, to protect their family, but she refused. She would not run and hide while others suffered and died. Not while she could stop it, and not even when she no longer could. He knew that, knew that he could never convince her otherwise. But he had to try. In the end all he could do was follow her into the flames, his world entrusted to those who carried her heart within them. All he could do was fight. All he could do was fail. All he could do, was hold her as she died in his arms. As the light faded from her eyes, he screamed.

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With a heavy start Leon’s eyes snapped open, panic ripping through his mind. His body and the sheets beneath him were drenched in sweat. His face was soaked in tears. He raised a hand to his cheek, wiping it dry and staring at the digits in confusion. Had it been a nightmare? He turned his head, hoping desperately to see Aubre laying next to him, hair amess as she gently slumbered. But the bed was empty. Of course it is. It took only a moment for him to decide that he no longer wished any rest. Rather, this night called for a stiff drink; and preferably a number of companions joining it. He almost reached for his phone, instinctively planning to call his brother, but he stopped himself. No, this was not a night for companionship. Bare feet plodded lightly across the floor, stopping just short of the doorway. For a moment, he thought he’d seen something out the corner of his eye, and he carefully scanned the room. There was nothing. With a deep brown he turned back, leaving the dark room behind.

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