Zarius finished carving up a few chunks of Centiskorch steak and had heated up his cast iron skillet on the still-warm, more intact chunks. The smell of cooking meat was intoxicating – more so now that he had the enhanced senses from bonding with Lucien. He could also hear the faint crunch of foot on packed snow, and glancing back saw some of the villagers from the small abode he had stayed at. “Hey there!” he shouted back with a wave as he spotted them in the deep, pitch-black dark of night – his attunement with Dark so efficient that he could make them out perfectly.

  One of them lit up a torch and approached, “We didn’t know if you were the thing or not,” the man muttered. “You killed it.”

  “And I’m eating it,” Zarius replied as he applied seasoning to the steak before flipping it over. He hiked a thumb to his right, “Your buddy is over there – condolences, I got here after he was dead.”

  “You couldn’t bother bringing him back?” the man asked with disgust.

  Zarius shrugged, “He’s dead, and he’s not my problem. I killed the thing that burned down your houses and it’s not coming back. That’s enough on my part.”

  He heard the other villagers grumbling, but Lucien’s deep, bass growl kept them at bay as they skirted the exterior of the scorched clearing – the blasted trees, crisped-up bits of Zarius’ outfit, and the bare, dirt ground enough for them to know that the Pokémon and his trainer were far beyond their capabilities to do anything to – if they were so inclined.

  Zarius kept an eye on them as they grabbed their fallen fellow and departed before he turned his attention back to the steak, flipping it one last time before pulling it off and setting it to the side. “Lucien, this one is all yours.”

  Lucien leaned down, sniffed it, and licked his chops. “Smells great.” He took a few test nibbles before he scarfed the whole thing down with a satisfied gulp. “Mmm…can you cook me more?”

  “We’ll take turns eating,” Zarius replied as he seasoned another steak and slammed it into the pan with a satisfying hiss.

  An hour of cooking later and both Zarius and Lucien were absolutely stuffed. Zarius took some extra steaks, packed them into a bag with some snow, and hefted that over his shoulder as the duo began trekking further down the mountains. As the moon continued high into the sky above, Zarius could hear the Pokémon in the trees. He could hear the faint “Sn-Sn” of Snorunts that were clustered on the lower branches, shivering in small groups as they waited for the morning. The faint “hoots” of Noctowls and Owlets echoing through the trees as they hunted for rodent-like prey in the forest’s frosty embrace.

  The entire walk was peaceful and serene. Zarius felt completely relaxed as the night and shadows seemed to wrap around him and keep him warm despite the icy temperatures. Lucien, likewise, seemed content, and the two continued traveling in peaceful silence.

  Throughout their traveling, however, Zarius kept replaying the fights over in his head. The slaughter of the Zubats in the cave, and their encounter with the Centiskorch. Reveling in the glee of slaughtering and feeling the blood soak through his clothing. Even now, he could still smell the slight scent of iron from the cloying cloud that clung to his countenance.

  “Why,” he asked, finally breaking the silence, “Does your Claw cause me to…enjoy it so much?”

  Yveltal replied with a slight chuckle, enthusiasm dripping from his voice. “We revel in Death. Violence is often a cause of Death. Violence causes bloodshed.”

  “Plus, its fun,” Lucien said with confidence. “The strong defeat the weak. Such is the nature of…nature.” He laughed at his own pun, and Zarius let out a slight laugh as well.

  Yveltal spoke again, “The gods, just like forces of nature, do not necessarily go along lines of good and evil from your human standpoint. I leave the judging of others to whatever lies beyond Giratina’s guard.”

  “Where are we heading?” Lucien asked as he nudged Zarius.

  “I figure we head down to Dendemille,” Zarius replied as he trudged along the slight downward alpine slope. “We’ll go down the mountain, along a gorge, and then arrive at a huge bridge.”

  “Why a human town?” Yveltal asked.

  “Because,” Zarius said, “I’m a Trainer now. I can join a Trainer Guild. You said yourself that Pokémon overpopulate and need a culling – Trainers would be sent to do that. Might as well make some money while I’m earning Experience and getting rid of the excess population.”

  “Ah. Yes. Money. The thing that runs the world of humans,” Yveltal said with a bit of disgust.

  “We don’t need money,” Lucien interjected. “But I imagine that having some will be useful.”

  “And I’ve heard that Trainer Guilds have reward systems, training opportunities, and even some type of competition – I think they call it a league – where they fight each other in practice bouts for prestige.” Zarius grinned, “I would love to make a name for myself.”

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  “Why? You have a literal god in you.”

  “I’ve just been a cultist for my whole life. Trapped in a cave or the immediate surroundings,” Zarius replied. “I’ve got this immense power now thanks to you, Yveltal, and my bond with you, Lucien.” He raised his hand and clenched it into a fist, feeling the swirling shadows that surrounded his form like a comforting, warm blanket. “I’m going to enjoy life. Enjoy leveling up and getting stronger. I’ll be like a god among men…and eventually…we’ll be an actual god.”

  “Drawing attention to us may not be the wisest move,” Yveltal replied cautiously. “But,” he added, enthusiasm taking over his tone, “I experience everything that you experience – joy, pain, pleasure, agony – and I must say that some of these human experiences intrigue me.”

  Lucien let out a slight bark of anticipation. “I’ve heard of these things called “treats” just in passing with a few other Pokémon who ranged near villages and cities. I look forward to tasting them.”

  They set up camp for the night under one of the large pine trees. Zarius had learned about survival from his father, and knew how to make a nice, simple snow structure to keep the wind out. Clearing out the chilly surface and exposing the dirt under the tree, he knew well enough to make a fire somewhere outside the tree’s radius, to prevent the ambient heat from causing the snow above to fall and smother it.

  Once the shelter was made, and the sun began to crest, he sealed off the last bit of the structure. Lucien curled up in a ball, and Zarius pulled his bedroll out as he bedded down to rest during the day. He didn’t even question that he was traveling during the night, it just felt natural to him to do so.

  But as he rolled over and snuggled into the sleeping roll, he heard the snapping of twigs outside, and the muttering of a voice. “Where the hell did that fire fucker go to?”

  Lucien raised his head and narrowed his eyes, whispering, “It seems we are not alone.” He sniffed a few times, prompting Zarius to do the same. It was a person, for sure, but also a Pokémon with a slightly sweet smell to it. Lucien’s mouth turned to a frown, “Grass type. And a person.”

  As if verifying the statement, Zarius heard the cry of “Bay!” Racking his brain, he tried to think of what Pokémon the cry belonged to, but it escaped him. “We need to get a look,” Zarius whispered back as he used his finger to dig a small hole in the snow wall and peer out. Lucien raised a paw and did the same, turning his head sideways to look through the aperture.

  In the snow, not twenty feet away, was a middle-aged man dressed in heavy winter-travel attire. He had a spear in his hand, a shield in the other, and a pack with supplies on his back. Next to him was a quadrupedal Pokémon with green leaves around its elongated neck and a single, more-prominent blade-like leaf jutting from its forehead. Also, funnily enough, dressed in little fur boots and a jacket.

  Another Trainer? He thought as he observed.

  The Pokémon looked their direction and took up an aggressive stance, lowering its upper body and shouting, “Bayleef!”

  Oh, that’s what it is. Zarius frowned as the Trainer turned towards him with spear leveled. Well, we might as well be cordial about it. Zarius pushed the snow wall down and held up a hand in a wave, “Hi, stranger.”

  Now that the spear-wielding man was facing him, Zarius could tell that he, too, had a small tuft of leaves growing out of his collarbone – well hidden under the jacket save from a front view. “You…” the person trailed off and squinted, “A Trainer? You from the Guild?” He had dark, brown hair with green highlights towards the tips of the medium length, messy mop. Dark, emerald eyes glittered at Zarius from under a heavy brow, and his pale skin lent credence to the idea that he was a local to the region. The black hair all but confirmed it.

  “Nope,” Zarius replied as he stepped out of the temporary shelter. “Just became a Trainer not too long ago.” He gestured to Lucien, “This is my Umbreon. Lucien.”

  The other man lowered his spear and scratched the still-combat-ready Bayleef, “It’s alright girl.” He looked to Zarius, “My name is Wilson. I’m tracking down a Centiskorch that’s been reported in the area. Seen it?”

  Zarius grinned and laughed a deep, belly laugh. “I fucking killed and ate it.”

  Wilson cracked a smile, “They are good eating, if a bit rare to find. Well, shit, I’m supposed to bring back proof its dead.”

  “I got some steaks left over if that works,” Zarius replied. “I’m actually on my way to Dendemille to sign up at the Guild Hall. Why don’t we go back together, you put in a good word for me to sign up, and I’ll give you the steaks I have left?”

  Lucien looked up and him and scowled, “But they are so tasty.”

  He looked back to Lucien, “I’ll sneak one for us.”

  The Bayleef seemed to relax, and Wilson walked forward. “Why not travel during the day? You look like you were laying up,” he gestured to the temporary encampment under the tree.

  Zarius pulled back his hood and pointed to the ears atop his head, “Dark type, like Lucien here. It’s just…natural to travel at night?”

  “Ah. Yeah, same reason I don’t leave the forest.” He pulled the collar of his jacket down slightly, and Zarius could see the leaves went further down. He pulled the collar back up and continued, “I can heal from just touching the plant life. Takes a while, but it’s stronger around a lot of greenery.”

  “How far are we from the town?” Zarius asked.

  “About a full day’s travel. I just broke camp…an hour ago? If we rush back, we could make it to town before night fully sets.”

  Zarius began packing up camp, and Lucien gave him a nudge. “Make sure you slip one of those steaks off to the side.”

  “Already on it,” Zarius replied as he subtly directed the shadows of the tree to cover his arms as he slipped a snow-encrusted steak into his main pack. Rolling up the bedroll, he went over to Wilson and handed him the bag with the rest of the steaks. “Here you go, all the meat I gathered.”

  Wilson cracked a grin, “Excellent.” He hefted the bag onto his Bayleef’s back, and it grunted before shaking its head a bit. “Hey, I’m carrying the rest of the gear,” the man said with a chuckle. He looked to Zarius, “Come on. It’ll be nice talking to someone other than Juliet here.”

  Zarius looked at the Bayleef, “Can you talk to her? Not just hearing her cry, I mean.”

  “Yeah,” Wilson said. “Where did you say you were raised? Most people know that much about Trainers.”

  Zarius pointed up the mountain, “A village up there.”

  “Ah. Yeah, that explains it.” He gestured to the trail in the snow they had left on the slight ascent, “This way, then. And I’ll give you some information on how to act in the city. Plus, if you have questions, I’m more than happy to help out a new Trainer on their journey.”