Zarius entered the tavern with Corina right behind. The jovial atmosphere continued despite the odd-appearance duo, and they sidled to a booth at the back of the room. A dingy one, with cracked wood and a splinter-filled top. But Zarius didn’t mind in the slightest – preferring to be in that dark corner as the shadows caressed his skin. The heady scent of alcohol was a constant assault on his sharpened senses, and he had to tuck his ears back to reduce his range of hearing.
Corina slid in opposite him and gestured to her eyes, “Looks like you bound a new Pokémon.”
“Yes,” Zarius replied as he waved over one of the bar maids; a young woman with a petite build, carrying a tray. When she approached, he cleared his throat and spoke softly, trying not to be intimidating despite his appearance. “Whatever you have for food that is meat, bread with butter if you have it, and-” he glanced at Corina, “Drinks?”
Corina shrugged, “Ale is fine.”
“Two ales, roast Farfetch'd, bread and butter. Three silver – and you get an ale refill apiece,” the woman replied, giving Corina a shy grin.
Zarius pulled out the coins and handed them to her before turning back to Corina and leaning forward a bit. “I reached the graveyard and we fought something called a Shuppet. Ghost Type-”
“I’m familiar,” Corina stated as she stared at him intently, “What next?”
“We fought undead-”
Her eyes went wide, “The literal, living corpses?”
“Ye-”
“I had heard rumors from people,” she interrupted with astonishment on her face. “I…the corpses of the slain, rising once more? How’d you put them down?”
“Hacked them to bits,” Zarius replied, hiding the truth of his new Legend Mode Ability. “It wasn’t easy. Then I got to the center of the graveyard, met the Shaymin, got my Apricorns…and a Ceruledge named Evelyn challenged me to a duel.”
At that, Corina smiled a smug smile. “And you beat it, bound it, and now you have your second Bound Companion.” She ran a hand along his arm, and let her palm linger above his elbow where some of the ghostflame was flickering. “Huh. It’s warm, but not painful. Very interesting.” She pulled her hand away. “Continue.”
“That’s about it. Came back, met Bradley, clothes are at the tailor – again.” He sighed and leaned grabbed the just-delivered Ale stein, sniffing the beverage and feeling his nose wrinkle even more. Taking a test sip, he almost gagged on the flavor.
Corina just laughed then took her stein and gulped down a huge swig. “Never had Ale before?”
“No,” Zarius replied, which caused Corina’s mirth to calm. He held the stein in both hands, “I was raised in a cult up the mountain. Alcohol was not allowed for sacrifices. We had to be perfect in body, soul, and mind.”
Corina sighed and took another swig, “Explains why you’re such a novice in bed,” she stated. “Though the enthusiasm and eagerness is good enough. I just have to train you more.”
Zarius chuckled, “Well, Evelyn wants to train me in swordplay. Bradley and I chatted, and he is interested in training, also.”
“Tomorrow,” Corina said. “We can head down to one of the larger rivers. If you’re going to be a decent Trainer, learning how to fight in all types of environments is vital.” She took another swig of her Ale, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. “We can practice Trainer on Pokémon, Pokémon on Pokémon, and paired up.”
“And we just pull our punches? Training weapons?” Zarius asked, genuinely curious.
“There are relics that exist for training. Mary has one. It’s called a Duelist’s Ward. You put it in the ground, and anything that would die within one-hundred feet is instead knocked out. If you keep pummeling them while they’re down? They die.”
Yveltal spoke, and his voice was measured but there was a hint of aggravation. “A deal that Xerneas and I made long, long ago with some magi. A means to stave off death for the purposes of training mighty magi and warriors, who would then worship us and fuel our power further. One of the few times that my rival and I worked together. It seems that the knowledge of these Duelist’s Ward’s creation is still in existence.”
“We can borrow that then,” Zarius replied. “She seemed to have a soft spot for Bradley. What can you tell me about him? He seems like a soft type; not really Trainer material.”
Corina finished off her Ale stein and grabbed his, “His family died in a freak storm on the ocean to the north. He was the only survivor – saved by Suddsy, his Lapras. Formed a Bond right then and there. He’s been a child of the town in a way. Everyone knows him, and different families fed him and clothed him as he grew up. Now he earns his keep doing Quests in the waterways around Dendemille. Mostly recovering lost valuables that fishermen drop.” She shrugged, “He has expressed interest in training with me – but I do not want to train the weak who I see no hope for.”
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Zarius nodded, but kept his mouth shut as the delicious smell of a roasted and herb-stuffed Farfetch'd reached his nostrils. The roast Pokémon was brought over his mouth was salivating before the bread was brought over. With an animalistic greed, he tore into and began consuming the meat – bones and all, crunching down on them as he devoured the repast.
“Well damn, save some for me,” Corina said with a chuckle.
Zarius ripped the bird in half and handed it to her – doing the same with the now-arriving bread. He turned to say “thank you” to the bar maid, but she had scurried away a safe distance. I must look raving mad, Zarius thought as he pictured himself in the corner booth just devouring with wanton abandon.
He paused for a moment, “We talked about Bradley a bit…what about Wilson? He went after a Fire Type despite being a Grass Trainer.”
She chuckled, “He’s Grass and Rock. He has another Bound Companion. His feet are rocks inside those hiking boots he normally wears. So he really isn’t weak to Fire Type moves.”
“But he was walking around with his Bayleef-”
“In the forest?” she asked. Zarius nodded and she continued, “Well, that’s because it exudes a scent. A spicy scent that tends to make people perk up and feel healthier. He probably had that Pokémon out for the hike.”
Corina began picking hers apart like a bird would strip the meat from the bone – with little pecks and nibbles; clean and efficient. Zarius had finished his meat and moved onto the bread as she spoke. “Tell me a bit about your past.”
Zarius swallowed down the bite and grabbed the ale stein back from her, quaffing down the beverage and wincing, coughing as it snaked its way down his throat. Coughing slightly, and beating his chest, he managed to wheeze out some words. “Raised in a cult. Strict diet. Exercise every day. Meditation.”
“Monastic,” she stated, grabbing some of the bread and ripping it into chunks that she mopped up the juices of the meat with before popping into her mouth.
“Mhmm,” Zarius replied as he got his breath back fully. “Occasionally went down to the villages and played with other children. But when I was chosen as a sacrifice-”
She stared, her eyes narrowing as if she was a Flying Type from on high, observing him and readying for a strike. “You were going to die.” A statement, and observation – not a question.
Zarius shrugged and ripped off another hunk of bread, slathering it in butter before scarfing it down. “Mhmm. I was on the razor’s edge of life and death when Lucien found me. Saved me. Nursed me to health,” he lied.
Corina’s eyes lessened in their harsh, narrow gaze as she relaxed. “Huh. Well, what about parents?”
Zarius smiled fondly remembering his father and mother, “Darius and Zilphemena. Sacrifices before me.”
“You were fully a cult kid then?”
“Mhmm.”
Corina let out a sigh of concern; mixed with a grunt of frustration. “Fucking cults. No offense, I’m sure you lot had your reasons – I mean, the gods exist, so it makes sense that they want to be worshipped…but from childhood you were raised as a sacrifice? That’s harsh.”
“No,” Zarius replied. “I was being raised with a few other cultist families in the cave complex I called home. We all learned as if we were to be the next prophet. Book learning, studying the lore of the gods, reading, writing, maths – the whole lot. It was only when I was thirteen that I was chosen as the next sacrifice and had to…become monastic as you put it.”
“And how old are you now?”
“I’ve seen eighteen years,” Zarius replied. “You?”
“Twenty,” Corina replied. She leaned back, food fully finished and picked clean and crossed her arms as she rested her back against the booth wall; wings flexed out to the sides and taking up quite a bit of space. “Well, you told me yours, I tell you mine.”
Zarius grabbed the bones and began crunching them, savoring the slightly sweet flavor of the marrow. “Mhmm. Go ahead.”
“I grew up a little way to the southwest.”
“You said you grew up here your whole life,” Zarius replied.
“I lied.” She smiled softly, “I am sure you’ve lied to me, too. We do that to keep ourselves safe.”
“Fair enough,” Zarius replied.
Corina cleared her throat and continued, “A village on the way to Lumiose, the capital. In the forest.” She flexed one of her wings a bit, which shimmered in the dim light of the inn. “My family raised Pidgeys as message carriers. I’ve been around Flying Types all my life.” Her face clouded over with a melancholic look. “My family ended up being forced into servitude to the Kalos Kingdom.”
Zarius felt his heart sink a little bit hearing that, and that must have shown on his face because her demeanor shifted to one of acceptance.
She shrugged, “Such is the way of the world. I ran into the woods to avoid joining them, and quite literally ran into Graven; my Corviknight. He must’ve picked up on the fact that I was a bird girl, because we made a Bond right then and there.” Corina stared off, somewhere next to and past Zarius, into a memory. “I went back to help my family, but they had already fully accepted their new role of servitude so they wouldn’t be brutalized.”
He could see the tension in her shoulders, the slight twitch of her wings, and could hear her heart beating faster. He reached out a hand and gently caressed her wing, “It’s okay. You’re not there anymore.”
She refocused her attention on him and took a breath, “Sorry. Sometimes I get caught up in the past.” She furled her wings back in, tucking them tightly next to her as if a protective shell. “I left after that and got to Dendemille…I’ve been here ever since.”
“Scared to leave?” Zarius asked, picking up that there was some fear present there.
Corina very, very subtly nodded. “I…I’m never alone, thanks to Graven. But when I’m not around people for a while, like any Trainer…I go a bit feral.” She looked up at him, “You felt that before?”
Zarius shook his head, “No.”
“Ah, well…it takes a good week before you really feel it. And coming out of it is tough.” She kicked her feet a bit under the table, and occasionally tapped his shins with the motion. “You’re not going to stay around, are you?”
“No. I need to get these gold badges, go and challenge the Guild Master, and then travel north to the brewing war between Fiore and Sinnoh.”
She tapped her fingers on her elbow, “Well, I’ve already expressed my interest in traveling with you; would you still have me?”
“Yes,” they replied. “Your company would be quite welcome.”
She smirked, “Good. I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.” She stood up, “If you’re done – let’s head back to the Guild Hall. We’ll rest up, get your clothes tomorrow, and I’ll get the Duelist’s Ward from Mary so we can practice down by the river.”
Zarius stood up and followed her to the door, noting the few glances sent their way – but ultimately not really caring what these peasants thought of him. Let them think what they will. When we ascend to godhood, their thoughts will not matter.