Thank Arceus; Tavish had shown up just in time to prevent this awful man from doing any harm (that he knew of). Who cared if a whole herd of Iron Treads, violent towards any entity that wasn’t their own, soon gave them the red death eyes? He’d prevented a tragedy, and that was good enough. With any luck, they’d trample this joke of a doctor along the way.

But, as much as he hated to say it, the quack was right: he’d be gored if he and Obstagoon also didn’t turn around and start to run after the doctor. However, he wasn’t about to show ‘mercy’ just because the other did.

That’s why, when they both entered the tunnel he had just emerged from, he bent down and scooped up a rock as they ran for their lives. And then another, and one more for good measure.

“Don’t think ye can outrun yer fate, you bloody devil!” Tavish lobbed the first rock right towards Rhys, hopeful that he’d blow out the doctor’s knee and damn him to death by robotic trampling.

Unfortunately, the one eye left a lot to be desired for depth perception. That’s why the rock instead went flying straight past the main, a few healthy feet in front of him. A second rock quickly followed suit.

“Damn you! Stay still, so I can condemn ye to a death suitable of your crimes!”

Obstagoon rolled her eyes. Now wasn’t the time to squabble– but she wasn’t about to step in when it felt like the Iron Treads were gaining on them. She knew they could get into sphere mode, but she didn't think they'd manage to catch up so well, in the dark and cramped space of these tunnels. They'd be in trouble if they didn't figure anything out fast.

---

Rhys Collins
TOTAL: 198
DSxiTEIU

These were strange lands and stranger people. He’d been here for quite some time now, but little had made less sense than this area. Not even Galar had something quite like this: a massive whole in the ground, filled to the brim with strange crystals and Pokémon from a different reality. How unreserved they were. How hostile.

But they deserved protection all the same. They were all Pokémon. Arceus’ precious creatures. Even if they were not of this time, they deserved to live their lives as much as the next Pokémon– especially since this was their land. Their home. If anything, he was the invader here.

But he’d make things right. He and Obstagoon trekked down inside the earth, deep within the dank caves that reeked of mildew, natural chemicals, and sweat. It was dark, but his eye had adjusted long ago. Besides, all he needed was the idle sound of wild Pokémon.

“Hold on,” Tavish held up a hand to stop his companion. Natural light filtered far ahead, down the rest of this path. Even better, the sound of heavy steps and the hum of some ‘engine’. Either someone had brought their car down here, or that was a Futuristic Paradox. Slowly, they crept forward.

They peered around the corner. Yep, there was a round metal one. A lot like a Donphan, but cast from iron instead of flesh. It looked peaceful, at home in the environment. And dangerous. It’d make things hard if they attracted its attention.

But something else caught the Obstagoon’s eye. She tapped his shoulder and signed. “A person? What? Where?”

She pointed directly to the figure, off to the side. At the edge of some foliage, away from immediate vision. Of their target, that was. For the pair, though, it was like they were in the perfect spot for an ambush.

But that face was eerily familiar. Like they’d been in conflict before…

It didn’t take long for Tavish to realize the connection. He swiftly pulled out his knife and stepped forward, his face in a hard scowl. He raised his free hand to shield his eye from the awful sunlight, “You! You bloody bastard, step back from the innocent Pokémon!”

---

Rhys Collins
TOTAL: 98
ZK2V7AO4

EXCURSION SIGN-UP

ADVENTURE IS OUT THERE!

WHICH EXCURSION?: AZ Excursion C: Cull the Herd
PARTICIPATING CHARACTERS: Rhys Collins , tavish rose

Tavish could barely notice the onlookers who gave the commotion their utmost attention. He was too busy trying to ignore the queasy feeling in his stomach and the weariness in his bones. Poison. Of course– leave it to a Rocket Doctor to carry poison on them at all times.

If the man hadn’t been consigned to death by the association with a terrorist organization, Tavish would have dragged him to the police and had him tried for war crimes.

Instead, he grunted as he tossed the last of the available fruit to the horde and took one last handful for himself. It felt sinful to take any of it for himself, but his life probably hung in the balance of whatever he’d been injected with. It tasted sickeningly sweet– but filling.

Energy surged through his veins, enough to ward off the worst of the poison that infected his steps. He steps away from the scene, from the fight. It was time to leave: he’d accomplished everything he could here, and this wasn’t the tree to die under.

So with all the energy in his bones, he tossed his only other smoke pot onto the ground and ran away. His heartbeat drowned out any potential yelps or curses towards him as he retreated into the city of Sootopolis. Into its alleyways and crooks. This was certainly not the end of their fight. Now, it was personal.

And Arceus help anyone who dare get in his way.

---

Rhys Collins

The nearest Lokix extended its strong, black saw-like arms in warning toward Tavish, but he ignored the Pokémon and instead dug his hands deep inside the massive berry. If Rhys was from Galar himself, he’d know just how easily one could dig their hands into the sweet, sticky product of the Dyna Tree. Like a massive orange, ready to be pulled apart with enough force.

And he did just that. His hands now sticky with the substance, he turned back towards the two that came his way. The distraction worked– all he needed to do now was raise his hands high above his head and pull back. “If an apple works fer a day, this’ll last a week!”

The red, scrumptious fruit was thrown forward, right towards the two Rocket members. Even if they managed to dodge the nutritious fruit of the tree, they’d be unable to ignore what came right afterward: the Lokix that nearly cleaved Tavish in two instead turned its narrowed eyes to Rhys and his Lucario.

And it was entirely unafraid. It cried out and dashed forward, its saw-blades ready to tear them apart if they dared get in the way of its dinner.

“Why don’tcha ‘ave some more!” Tavish dug his hands back into the red fruit and lobbed more and more of its guts towards the Rockets. Even as the edges of his visions turned black and twisted, he kept on going until there was a large, pungent pile at their feet and over their clothes.

Something the wild Pokémon noticed with frenzy in their minds. Soon enough, a few other Lokix gave them curious and twisted stares. If any other Pokemon were nearby, the might smell the beautifl aroma that was Dyna Fruit. And in such large supply, with only two measly barricades in their way...

---

Rhys Collins

“Let me tell the story,” Obstagoon asked. This was the last chance they would have, it felt like. The League had been informed of their presence due to the last meeting, and they likely didn’t appreciate a group such as theirs within their territory. At least, not in a very important location such as this.

“Hmm… I don’t see why not,” Tavish began to hand her the book, but she held up a furry paw.

“I don’t need it. This one won’t be that long, either.”

“Alright, then let us hear it.”

“Cro.”

“Then let me tell you a tale of Sacrifice:”

“Once upon a time, there was a man. He was no king. He was not even royalty. Yet he wasn’t a villain, and not born for evil. No, this was just a man. With a mind full of curiosity, empathy, and passion, he built a kingdom where everyone was equal. Pokémon and Humans coexisted in harmony, and knowledge was readily available. In short: a Utopia. This was the pinnacle of existence, for there was no obstacle they couldn’t overcome, and no dream out of reach.”

“But one day, something odd started to happen. In the dead of night, one by one, the Pokémon disappeared. No one knew why, and no one knew how. The range of those who left was large, and suspicions few. Why would anyone want to leave? Those now missing had nothing but praise for their home. Yet there they went; stolen away when no one looked.”

“The Pokémon were afraid. What if they were next? What if it was a predator? A hunter, who wished to slay them out in the wild where no one would ever find them. But the humans… they did nothing to help. Sure, they expressed sadness for their lost friends, but they remained only bystanders in the situation. Not a finger was lifted, nor a problem raised. They were not the targets of this force’s ire– what were they to do?”

“After a month had passed, the Pokémon were no closer to a solution. Hope started to fade in the face of blatant ignorance. Thus, they turned to their final hope: the Man who built the place they called home. They sought his court and relayed their anger. Their frustration. The man listened intently, and when they finished he expressed a similar frustration. He rose from his chair and declared to find out the source of these disappearances.”

“Thus, he left the comfort of home and walked out into the wilderness. For three days and three nights, he kept faithful watch from the outside. Whoever these perpetrators were, they were clever. For a while, he was scared he would get no closer to the answer than those who suffered most. Yet on the final day, he finally had success in his hunt.”

“They were thieves from a distant land, come to take their Pokémon. As for where they went, he did not know– only that it was not a nice place. This greatly outraged the man, and he wasted no time in dishing out swift and merciless judgment on the invaders.”

“But there were more. An almost infinite–”

“Obstagoon.”

“... Yes?”

“Why are you telling this?”

“Telling what?”

“My story. I’ve already told it. Last time.”

“Because, Tavish. It’s important.”

“Important to whom?”

“To me, damn it!”

“Why?! It’s said and done, and the King has already heard it!”

“Let him hear it again, but in a different light! One with consideration and empathy. Let him hear our side of it.”

“... Fine.”

“Thank you. Now, where was I… right:”

“The man could not possibly end the horde of invaders. Where one fell, two more emerged. It was an endless horde of invaders, there to ruin the perfect kingdom built for all. The Pokémon were unable to fight back, and the people remained indifferent to the plight of the few. For them, it was still a utopia. Even if the walls grew silent and the nights dark. They were not the ones forced to answer the call to arms.”

“This angered the King greatly. He felt alone. Powerless. A feeling he hadn’t felt before. What was he to do, to help those he held dear?”

“So, he decided to do the only thing he knew he could: nip it in the bud. If he gave up everything he had worked for, he could help all those affected.”

“Cro?”

“Of course he did! Even if the man didn’t think himself noble or heroic, the decision to sacrifice his life of comfort made him one. Even if his fellow humans did not agree, and the Pokémon scared of the path he’d taken, he decided to do the right thing. To stand up in the face of danger, look in the eye, and show defiance. He traveled to the land unknown, far from home, to make things right. No matter what it took, he would protect the land he could no longer call his own. For to do nothing and let the invaders get their way–”

“Was to lose his home regardless.”

“There is no end to this tale– not yet. But everything always turns out right for the heroes. As was in the past, and now in the present, and forever more in the future.”

Silence fell onto the small group, save for the King who clapped at the tale. His soft hands smacked into one another with infinite grace, “Cro! Cro!”

“Is that how you see it? A sacrifice no one else could make?”

“No one else would make. It takes a great amount of courage to do what we've done. An even bigger amount to do it the way we've done.”

“... If only others could as well.”

“Well, you’ve got the four of us,” Obstagoon waved to the others gathered. “Even if the League let the problem fester, it was not for lack of trying.”

“Never as simple as it seems.”

“And we’ll come out ahead yet.”

“Thanks, Obstagoon. I think I needed that.”

A comfortable feeling of camaraderie fell upon the band. Even if the future was uncertain, their tale had yet to finish. That would have to be alright with the King, the one they’d have to say goodbye to very soon. But that wasn’t in the now, and was a problem they could all ignore for the moment. They could look up at the stars, enjoy the cool air of the night and the fresh smell of grass and berries.

Ignorance was seldom enjoyable, but for now, they held on. The closest thing to hope they’d ever know.

“Tale about dreams, eh? Never been a big fan of those, as the main topic, but maybe something about a legacy,” the man rubbed the stubble on his chin. His four comrades each shared a stare with one another, a confirmation of having the exact same thought inside all their heads. Unfortunately for them, the man saw it all as clear as night. “What?”

Sonny and Sir couldn’t sign, so they looked to Bloke and Obstagoon to convey the message they all knew true to their hearts. Bloke held up his pointed hands in defense, “Oi, I was a late addition. You’ve got the history with him, not me.”

Thus, the obligation fell to Obstagoon. She started to sign cautiously, as if scared to step into the minefield right before her. One wrong step, and they’d all be blown sky-high. “Well… we think you should change that. You know. Stop being so hell-bent on the idea of dreams alone.”

The man looked flabbergasted. His eye darted between them. “Is yer head on loose there, Obstagoon? We’ve talked about this before, and my mind isn’t changing: dreams on their own are worthless.”

“None of us disagree with you there. Not entirely, anyway,” she responded. “But a dream can be a nice thing to have. Gives you hope.”

“But that must be tempered by the weight of reality. Otherwise, they’re as good as the stars in the night sky– a pretty thing to look at, sure, but do nothin’ for us down here.”

“Do you remember when we used to dream, Tavish?”

The man fell silent, knowing that this was a touchy subject for her. But he wasn’t content either, as his fingers dug into the dirty fabric of his pants. They’d done this song and dance too. Only once, and it’d been a bloody nightmare afterwords. It happened the night he decided to take matters into his own hands. When he abandoned a life of comfort and ignorance.

“Our simple dreams, ones made up on a whim and gave us such whimsy in our hearts… do you still remember them, Tavish?”

“Of course I do,” he said. “How could I forget them?”

“Of owning your own lab. Of fighting for the rights of Pokémon as best as we could, even if the odds seemed insurmountable. Hell, we even dreamed of fantastical things. Like your brewery idea, or my dream to go far away, and explore new sights. New sounds. Meet more wonderful people. In a way, we both got what we wanted.”

“At the cost of everything, Obstagoon.”

“Well, that would make a good story of its–”

“No,” Tavish crossed his arms and shoved them forward. “Timeout. My, our history, isn’t over! There isn’t some grandiose tale here. Not the kind we should tell a King. They aren’t like the stories in this book. Ones that would be more proper, with better endings and where everyone lives happily ever after.”

“Back when things were simpler? Easier?”

“Yea!”

“Tavish, they’ve never been simple.”

He looked to the furry black-and-white creature, and then back to the other three. None of them could properly meet him in the eyes. Something snapped inside, and he closed the book with a loud thump. “Fine.”

“You want a story? Here’s a story of your precious ‘dreams’, unbound by reality:”

“Once upon a time, nine years ago, there was a bright-faced lad with the stars in his eyes and a head in the clouds. Things were easy, simple, ignorant. He had a few friends, a few Pokémon companions, and life was easy. There weren’t any actual problems, and there wasn’t any hardships. He had a nice job where he did what he loved.”

“And then they came,” he spit the acidic phrase off of his tongue and motioned far away, towards Sootopolis. “They came from the sea and started to steal. Plunder. Kidnap the precious creatures that wanted to live simple lives. Brought to a foreign land against their will, where everything was awful. A war zone, where they were drafted or conscripted at best. Not to mention the treacherous seas that many never escaped.”

“And this hurt the man. Not only because of what was happening, but because of how the people reacted: they didn’t. They shrugged their shoulders, said ‘what can you do’, and bloody well moved on with their lives. How could they willingly choose to turn an eye to the problems that plagued their lands? How could they sleep at night, knowing that they held the power to help the situation?”

“So, the man acted. He called the government and asked them what their plans were, how he could help. And they turned him away. ‘Join the royal guard, and you can make a change’. So, he did. He worked hard, day and night, to get into their illustrious service.”

“Yet he never did. His work meant nothing, because he was always passed over. Never given the time nor day to prove himself loyal to the cause. Excuse after excuse, they sent him home with a pat on the back and a ‘better luck next time’. How it infuriated him. How his blood boiled.”

“So, he decided to join a local watch. Keep an eye out for intruders that dared to take from their homes. He was accepted, and he watched with as good an eye as everyone else. Day and night, always on the lookout. He never saw anything, either from the cover of night or because of other obligations. Yet the problem persisted. Nothing got better. If anything, things grew worse. Like not even those in charge cared.”

“The man started to expand his efforts. He raised awareness, sent out petitions, held peaceful protests against the seemingly infinite inaction. If there was a way to show the problem to all, then he did it. Everything under the sun was fair game, save for direct violence. For he was one man, and this a problem for an entire body of people. They were so many, and they so few– so why couldn’t they stop it?”

“And as time went on, something started to change in the man. His heart grew cold, and his brain full of strange ideas. Those clouds he reached for, the ones he thought firmly in his grasp– nothing more than blips in the sky. The people did not care. The royalty did not care. No one cared, it felt. And despite his best efforts, his attempts to make the imagination into a reality, he never got a single foot off the ground.”

“It was only when he resorted to violence that the people noticed. That the people cared. If it did not affect them, then it wasn’t a threat. But as soon as it disrupted their daily life, then they grew mad. Upset at the injustice being performed at the hands of this villain.”

“But the villain was him.”

“The people turned on him. Insulted him for his methods, assaulted him for his decisions. The royalty condemned him. Pokémon feared his name, for what he might do.”

“But the invaders learned to fear that man. Whenever they saw his signature red fatigues and smelled brimstone in the air, they knew themselves doomed. They had been deemed problems, and problems were best squashed underfoot. For him to take action, he had damned himself to hell. A life of this path that no one would dare tread. Because they were afraid of losing things.”

“The man did not live happily ever after,” his knuckles grew white, “he did not get to realize his dreams. He did not get to live the life he wanted. He has given so much to better the lives of those around him, and yet they spit on his shoes.”

“You can keep your dreams, those clouds in the sky, like the Kingdom of the North,” the man set the book down by his side and pulled himself to his feet, “but tell me where that gets you in a year or ten.”

“Tavish, they give us reason to wake up in the morning, to have hopes and look to the future!”

“And look where that got me, Obstagoon. Look where we are now.”

The man stormed off, his boots heavy in the dirt and grass. Dew scattered off the stalks, leaving behind a trail of mother nature’s tears. She wept for the man, and for those he had to leave behind. She wept for a soul that kept his head focused right ahead, with a glint in his eye that would never go away.

One that could only admire the night sky and moon for what they were, not for what they could’ve been.

Looked like things were not going to go as well as Tavish hoped, as Sonny was blasted away by the raw force of the Aura Sphere. Even as the flat, violent disk went in for one more Sucker Punch, it was unable to outspeed the attack. It was blown high into the sky, nearly clocking a passing by Unfezant in the dome.

While it was retreated into the ball, he clutched the stab wound and weighed his options. Obstagoon and Sir were at camp, so proper reinforcements were off the table. He had an unknown amount of time before he was subjected to an unknown substance. And his skin still shimmered from the Reflect, which meant that he couldn’t even try to put down his opponent. A competent one at that.

Retreat was necessary, and not even two minutes into the attack. Shameful, but he could already see the fruits of his labor. Several creatures had beelined for the large fruit and gorged themselves on the stuff. They’d be stronger than ever, soon enough.

That would work. He quickly sheathed the knife and pulled a large ball off his belt. A pot, covered by a piece of cloth and some string. “Ya don’t scare me, scum. Let’s see how ya handle this.”

With all his remaining strength, the pot crashed into the ground. White dust exploded from the point of impact, creating a thick cloud almost impossible to see through. Even worse, it bellowed out from the point of impact and soon submerged Rhys in the stuff. It would smell and taste innocuous enough, probably some talcum powder poured into a jar.

But what was more concerning was where Tavish ran. Straight for the nearest enlarged fruit. A few Lokix had dashed in during the distraction, and they gave the chemist dangerous stares as he came up. What was he doing?

---

Rhys Collins

Tavish watched the ambassador approach with a gold gaze. Even if he didn’t know her, there was little chance the opposite was true. If she’d kept up with the happenings back in Galar, then his face was a familiar one. Tavish Rose: eco-terrorist, wanted criminal. Finally caught sometime after The Darkest Day, and then vanished off the face of the earth.

But now, he’s here. Right in front of her, rough and ragged, with an awfully familiar waxen seal in his hand. It slid to her and caught the light on its crimson surface: from royalty. “I wish to speak with anyone who can help me out. One from home.”

“Is there any chance we can speak in private?” He looked at the various people who now stared at him with cold glares or confused faces. “It’s very important, and not fer wayward ears.”

---

Elise Calcifet

Numerous calculations ran through the Sonny’s head, from his many years of watching Tavish do them. After all, he’d been the first one to join his crew, the one around the longest. Thicker than thieves. The initial point of impact, the velocity, the angle he’d need to… yes, it was possible.

But it’d be threading the needle.

So, at the very last possible moment, Sonny let go of the unicellular organism. The arm of goo hit him good, but not enough to take him out of the fight. It did send him straight into the air, the world a distorted mess while he flipped several dozen times.

But, his body, the way he positioned himself, the angle, the whole shape, how his outer teeth clasped together and angled– by Arceus, the fucker was turning into a damned boomerang! By all the laws of physics, it should be impossible to do such a thing. Defying everything everyone knew.

Yet it worked perfectly. The needle was threaded, and the green and black mass came back with a vengeance. Dark energies surrounded its entire body, and its velocity changed in midair. Despite having limbs that were better suited for pancake-flipping, its left balled up tight and guided his strike. This Sucker Punch, even if hindered by the Reflect, would certainly strike true.

“Sonny, ya beautiful bloody–”

Something stabbed into his side. Pain shot up through his body. He’d been injected by a doctor and given a taste of his own medicine. “... bastard.”

But this was fine. A tit for a tat, as Tavish roughly aimed his knife straight towards Rhys’ opposite side. They could look like mirror reflections of one another. “Yer a damned awful doctor fer that, y'know?”

---

Rhys Collins

“Oh ho, a hero, eh? Galar was never in short supply of those folks,” the man said with a glint in his eye. From the stars above, since he had returned once more during the cover of night. The four Pokémon had accompanied him as well, excited to hear the next story they’d already heard a dozen times over.

“Well– I have a great idea,” he looked to the other Pokémon gathered, “what do you all think? With so many options, I feel like it should be one we all agree on.”

The Obstagoon quickly signed something with gusto, but Tavish gave her a deadpan stare. “Obstagoon, come on. That one’s been done to hell and back. We can’t just give The King the most basic story there is. We need something heroic, something grand. Something that truly stands out.”

“Farfetch’d!”

The Obstagoon signed again, must less passionate this time. “That one’s a bit more... vengeance-ye, yea? Not what we’re lookin’ for. Maybe another time.”

It was the Stunfisk-Galar’s turn to sound off, and once again Obstagoon signed off for the man. He shook his head tiredly, which caused the living bear-trap to get snippy. The furry creature groaned and replied. This started a cascade of responses and furious hand movements that all four of the original Galarian homebodies took part in. None of them could possibly agree on what regal, grandiose, heartfelt story to tell their King.

Until the Toxicroak chimed in. His hand movements were much clunkier than the Obstagoons, much less refined. He had been learning sign language at a pace that rivaled molasses, but his hands were able to get a vague message across: “Woah there, who the hell is King Kenneth?”

The rest of the faces (sans Calyrex, who was probably just as clueless) gave him a shocked expression. “You… you don’t know King Kenneth?”

Once again, Bloke tried to sign his response. “Course not. Never been in Galar.”

“But King Kenneth… is the best one! His style, his elegance, his grand tales! Everyone knows him! He’s the biggest one!”

The other three spoke relatively similar things, about how he was the most important one to know just because of how cool he was. How he saved a kingdom from the hands of raiders, how he solved stalemates in seconds flat. Sir spoke the loudest of them all, about how he had solved the Devils’ riddle when no one else could.

“Devil’s riddle? What, he want your soul but only for a few dollars?”

“No, of course– okay, we need to talk about this, yea?”

They all agreed with a nod. The man quickly flipped the pages, desperate to see if he could remember the exact page that was on. It wasn’t a long one, but it was around the three hundreds– ah, seventy-eight, not sixty-eight. He smoothed out the page and quickly gave it a once over to make sure it was just how he remembered.

Of course it was. Hell, he could probably tell it by heart. But for the sake of posterity, he cleared his throat and looked down at the page. Then, he began to read:

“Once upon a time, King Kenneth was in his castle. All his retainers, family, and blessed Pokemon were seated for supper, enjoying the bountiful harvest of their fields. Yet something was amiss— only the King himself could tell. The rest of the people were unable to notice, for they did not have the sixth sense the King did. This food was good, but tasted strange. As if someone had sneaked in a strange herb.”

“Sure enough, the rest of those in attendance for the grand feast soon fell ill. All but the King, who could only watch as they soon fell into a stupor. Strange. Odd. He knew there was a foul presence behind this. ‘Show yourself, you foul being of the night!’ he shouted. How furious he was!”

“And the Devil showed himself– dressed in all black, with horns that curled into infinite circles and hooves that left hellfire as he crossed the grand hall. Despite the bright sun, the sky soon turned to despair and became clouded with sin. Eventually, the stood face to face.”

“‘Why do you act as you are, Devil? Undo your foul trick!’”

“‘Ah, but for I to do that, it would endanger these merry fellows. For you see, I’ve granted them a deep dream. They do not know what is happening, but they are in bliss. Their wildest dreams, come to life. And to wake them is to kill them. I wish to rule over a people of peace and calm, and if you wish, I can send you off into a deep sleep. One free from problem or hardship.'”

“Of course, the King did not want this. Instead, he drew his sword and pointed it straight at the creature. ‘You fiend! I shall end your terrible existence in but a moment, if you don’t unhand my people! For their lives must be filled with hardship, as that is what makes it worth living!’”

“‘Then I shall grant you instead a question. A riddle, if you will. Answer it correctly and truthfully, and I shall grant you your desire and let your people go free. However, answer it wrong or without your full heart, and I shall damn you all to my domain. This kingdom and mine will be intertwined, and you all sent to a hellscape beyond your worst nightmare.’”

“Of course, the King did not falter in the face of a trial or tribulation. ‘Then lay your silly question onto me, so I may send you back to the land from whence ye came, o’ devious creature of the night.’”

“‘Very well, then. Riddle me this, Wise King Kenneth: I’m always coming, yet never show. People look to me, yet never see me. When I arrive, I’m back at the start. What am I?’”

“The Great King too much time pondering the question. He returned to his throne and put his head into his hands. For seven days and six nights, the King thought without break. All the while, the Devil waited as well. Yet while Kenneth never broke a sweat, the Devil grew impatient. This lasted until he could stand it no longer, and stomped a hoove into the granite floor. ‘I grow impatient, Kenneth. Answer, or I shall take what is rightfully mine!’”

“‘But you said I have to answer your question wrong for that to happen, and without my full heart behind it. A heart is not a thing to rush.’”

“‘I grow tired, Kenneth. If you do not have an answer, that is as good as being wrong.’”

“‘Incorrect, you foul creature. For a King must never rush to a conclusion when it comes to his people. That would be to put your own interest at heart, for tomorrow is but a day away from damnation.’”

“The Devil paused, clearly flabbergasted by Kenneth’s response. ‘How could you possibly know the answer to my riddle? It was quite a difficult one! No one has ever surmised its answer correctly.’”

“‘I did not, devious Devil. You gave it to me yourself.’”

“He realized that he had, in fact, confirmed the answer without the King ever speaking of it. He’d been fooled by his own question. In a huff, he undid the spell on the people and stormed out of the castle. The flames of the night were quenched, and day finally returned to the land. The people came to, and were clueless as to what occurred. King Kenneth spoke what happened, and they all rejoiced at the clever thinking of their King. Instead of the harvest, the celebrated their wondrous and smart ruler, for his thinking had saved the people without even so much as a worry of his success.”

“And they all lived happily. Ever. After,” the man finished his story with a tear in his eye. He quickly wiped it away and looked at Bloke. “Rather inspiring, right? Makes me tear up every time.”

“... That was stupid, ain’t it? Hell, I figured it out in a moment or two. Not too many things can ‘come’ yet never arrive.”

“Yea, right! That was rather hard. If it weren’t for the tale, I’d never get that answer.”

“Ya can’t be serious, right? What else do people look towards yet never see? Infinity, maybe? The future? Just think about it. Not hard, not one bit.”

“Oh, shut up! Liar.”

“Who you callin’ a liar, huh? Just cause you’re too caught up in the details– that’s where the devil is, I hear.”

“Oh for the love of–”

Their bickering came back, but the King watched with joy. Their tale, even if simple and easy to see the end of, had been a tale nonetheless. It was rather heroic to goad an enemy into giving you the answer to a problem. Especially if it held many a life at stake. After all, it takes a lot of courage to act in the face of hardship. And if that isn’t heroic, then what was the meaning of the word anyway?

Tavish stumbled from the sweep, but did not fall to the ground. Damn this Reflect– this was going to cause many a problem for his efforts. But certainly would not stop him; the goal was to stop them from harming the Pokémon. If this meant even a few were able to eat their fill and go on their merry way, then that would have to be fine.

“Let’s see how y’fair against this,” Tavish caught himself and whipped out a knife from his belt. It glowed in the same light that encased his entire body, but it was still razor sharp. A butter knife did damage, with enough pressure. He swung wildly for Rhys’ chest, careful not to over-extend himself.

At least he fared better than his companion. Bloke looked up at the semi-circle of strange energy that floated above his head and let out a single anxious croak. “Whoa whoa, hold on, we can–”

The light flew forward and surged into its body. “AUGHGHHHGHGHGHGHHGHG–”

He let out a horrific cry as 0 SpA Reuniclus Psyshock vs. 0 HP / 0 Def Toxicroak: 592-700 (192.8 - 228%) -- guaranteed OHKO. He fell to the ground with an arm draped across his back, down for the count. Tavish gave the poisonous frog a glance. “Hrmph. No matter.”

Bloke was returned to his ball– the one of two in his crew comfortable being bound by one. The second one, which emerged in a second flash of white light in front of the Reuniclus as a flat disc, was more out of necessity than desire. The massive cell’s next foe was a Stunfisk-Galar. Sonny looked at his foe with squinted eyes.

“STUNNNNNNNNN!” Somehow, someway, he flapped his body against the ground and launched himself with a surprising amount of speed. Straight for the green blob. Those razor-sharp teeth tried to bite into the Reuniclus for a terrifying Snap Trap.

---

Rhys Collins

To: howard slayte
From: tavish rose

Addressed from 'Sir', this would show up in Howard's mailbox of his normal home address.