ZINNIA
The sun's warmth was kind and gentle to the skin, as it broke through the leaves of the forest and touched mother and child. Zinnia walked slowly, and her old and weathered boots caked with dry mud crunched up fallen leaves and small twigs on the forest floor. Little Aster kept pace, his small hand clasped around his mother's finger, his tiny boots just as muddy as hers. He seemed to be in high spirits, taking in the scenery and breathing the fresh air that carried the fragrance of wet earth with it from last night's shower. The boy pointed out the sounds of the Pokémon he heard hiding in the trees and the bushes, and the birds that were but fast-moving shadows on the treetops. Zinnia joined in his mirth by answering his questions, so many they were, but all of them had thought put into them.
Zinnia wore a cloak of roughspun wool over her body, secured by a rusty brooch fashioned from an old belt buckle near her left shoulder. The garment completely covered the right side of her torso and its tattered hems reached all the way down to her knees. Its color appeared to be a drab gray, which looked like the result of heavy discoloration. It also had traces of water damage, and exposure to dyes of different colors and chemicals. Any sort of pattern that could once be seen on its surface has long faded away, leaving behind only obscure shapes on the fabric. In contrast, little Aster wore a cloak as brown as fertile earth, embroidered with angular patterns and markings reminiscent of Baltoy that ran horizontally along the center of his torso. Those garments would protect them from the summer sun that would surely be beating down on them the moment they move away from the cover of the trees.
Zinnia also dressed for the weather under her cloak, wearing a simple sleeveless top colored black with some red accents in the shapes of dragon fangs at the sides and dark blue denim shorts whose tear patterns around her thighs indicated that it was originally a long pair of trousers. Aster wore something similar; his shirt was sleeved and looser around his body and its color was a shade of brown deeper than his own cloak, and his knee-length shorts matched it in color.
"Do evil Pokémon exist, mother?" asked little Aster.
Zinnia smiled but continued to look ahead, humming thoughtfully. "Yes," came her answer. "Just like how good and evil people exist. Pokémon don't rule themselves on instinct alone, like many believe. They're just like... you and me!" she said with a laugh. "Some may be bigger, some smaller, some live under the sea and some live high up in the trees. Some are naturally strong, others might rather run than fight. But whatever good us humans can do, Pokémon can also do. And..." Zinnia paused, suddenly unsure of where to take the lecture. She swallowed, before she continued. "If we push them towards evil, they will do evil."
"Can evil Pokémon also push people towards evil?"
Zinnia kept silent, not wanting to say what was inside her mind and leave that as imprint on the child forever. She figured that she did not know what to say anyway. The question made her think back to a time long ago when she was in close proximity with people and Pokémon that were of a certain quality and disposition, but only now did she sit back and try to think even deeper of her experience then. In those cases, who pushed who towards the path of doing evil? It was like the question of which came first between the Fearow and the egg.
Zinnia took a deep breath. "What's important is to always do what's right, Aster. And to rely on and trust your Pokemon. Everything will follow. So that means... no more disobeying your mother!" she said with a laugh. The child giggled too.
Soon, the flat ground gave way to a gentle slope as the pair arrived at a hill within the forest, still surrounded with trees. Zinnia could see the trail they were following gradually disappear near the crest of the hill, so she slowed down. At her insistence, she carried Aster on one arm - much to the little boy's disappointment, but he wrapped his tiny arms around her neck and clung tight. He also kept still, and then nuzzled against the side of her face, giving her cheek a peck. The kiss felt warm against her skin and she laughed, turning to also kiss Aster's forehead. With her child in her arm, Zinnia was able to move up the hill with ease and faster than if she was holding Aster's hand. The path to the top of the hill was not as straight as she assumed, the forest floor hid gaps within rocks that would have been dangerous to the child, and more than once Zinnia had to jump the short gaps between these rocks while also not putting a lot of their weight on boulders that looked loose. The boy laughed gleefully at her jumping all over the place, but he did not move too much after he embraced Zinnia. But as she finally set foot on firmer ground and was only a short way towards the crest of the hill, Aster suddenly felt silent and... cold.
"I had a scary dream last night, mother," said Aster, whose voice shook as he slurred his words.
Zinnia tried to comfort him by slowing down and kissing the top of his head. "Dreams are just dreams, little one. Mommy will always be here for you when you wake, and I will keep you safe. Okay?" she said encouragingly. "Would you like to tell me about it?"
Aster shook his head and his eyes closed shut, but a word tumbled out of his lips. "S-Salamence! E-Excelsior!" he blurted out, and then he buried his face against Zinnia's shoulder and did not continue. Zinnia let him be, and continued walking.
The words weighed heavy on her head as she crested the hill. Aster loved to talk whenever she was the only one listening, but this was the first time that he had said something that unnerved her, and yet all he said was the name of a Pokémon she had. Excelsior had been with her since she was a child still living near Meteor Falls, and it was already a winged creature and a veteran of many battles but had never been tamed. Even Zinnia herself would not consider her Salamence "tamed", and in that sense she thought she had something in common with the people of this land. That Pokémon was old now, already several years removed from its prime. Then Zinnia remembered an event that made her right arm throb in pain, or at least the uneven stump where her arm used to be. She suffered the phantom pain with a straight face like a thousand times before. Zinnia did not want Aster to see her break because of it, especially not when the child had troubles of his own.
Aster only moved again when Zinnia reached the top of the hill, and asked to be put down so he could walk beside her again. She saw no harm in it and she acquiesced. Up ahead, she saw an old man sitting on a wide tree trunk off the side of the trail they were following. He was a small man, seemingly shrunken with wrinkles all over his face and skin. He did not have a single hair on his head, but his beard was thick, gray, matted, and stained a dark blue around the area of his lips like he had been consuming Bluk berries. Zinnia and Aster slowed down as they approached him, and they noticed the crooked way his legs bent and the dry and cracked skin around his feet, and finally the wooden crutches that were propped up against the tree trunk he was sitting on. The old man was singing an old tune with a hoarse voice as they approached, a song that Zinnia had barely recognized and realized only towards the end of it that it was actually an ancient poem just recited as a song. The pair stopped near him, and he did not speak but he looked at them quietly.
"Greetings, elder," said Zinnia in fluent, practiced Apeironese. She bowed too, and Aster followed the words as well as the action. The words flowed out of the child's mouth smoother than from her own. "Do you recognize that song, Aster?" she asked.
The child looked at his mother and the old man, and nodded his head. "The funeral speech of the great hero Sarpedon to his little brother."
Zinnia smiled and ruffled Aster's hair, before turning towards the old man to apologize for interrupting him. But she noticed that he was staring more intensely than she thought, and his hazy gray eyes were looking around the area of her neck. He probably saw her throat bulge as she swallowed. She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off.
"That thing around your neck. If you're thinking of going any further, you'd better remove that."
Zinnia blinked, and then moved her hand slowly towards the area of her upper chest and felt around. Her fingers wrapped around a small round object, and she felt its uneven surface as she clasped it between the palm of her hand, as if to hide it from view. She had already hidden it before, underneath her cloak. Aster must have knocked it off from where she tucked it when he climbed onto her arms, or when he embraced her tightly as he muttered the name of her Salamence. Zinnia was quiet as her calloused fingers caressed the uneven surface of a weathered small Pokéball that was repurposed into the pendant of a simple necklace. Zinnia would not be able to part with the necklace, nor break the promise she made with the dearly departed Pokémon who once resided inside the ball, to always wear it around her neck so it would always accompany her in all her adventures even though it had moved on to the next world.
She did not speak her intent to ignore his warning and keep wearing it as she tucked the pendant back to its hiding place underneath her cloak, more secure this time. The old man looked at her with thoughtful eyes, but it felt like he was pitying her.
"Just be careful," he said. His voice was small, almost sounding like a squeak. "The people in the village ahead are a closed community, and suspicious of outsiders. They will not appreciate your necklace, young one. If they find out..." he paused as he shook his head, and continued muttering as if he was talking to himself. "My son won't come back from Larimar Town for four more days... you will be hanging from the tree until then... or until someone with a kind heart cuts down the rope."
The breath that Zinnia took was stuck in her chest, and she looked at Aster who was staring at the old man with curiosity gleaming in his crimson eyes. Slowly, she wrapped her hand around the boy's wrist and pulled lightly, preparing to walk away and move on. Before she took a step forward, Zinnia smiled at the old man.
"Thank you for the warning, kind elder. We'll keep that advice in mind. Aièn aristeúein," she said, and then she bowed.
She called Aster and told him that they needed to go. The boy did not need to be pulled too hard, but he lingered for a second to say goodbye to the old man using the same words she said and then waving at him. Zinnia gazed ahead. The trail was straight, and the forest around them quiet. A cool summer breeze blew through the woods, blowing her cloak back to reveal the clothes she wore underneath it. But she did not let go of Aster's arm. She only slowed down until the wind ceased, keeping one step ahead of her son so she could get in front of him if necessary. Only now did she have doubts whether they should continue down this road. Having just passed through the handicapped old man, it was not a stretch to assume that the village he spoke of was nearby. Zinnia cursed, but only inside her mind. She dared not vocalize such words around Aster.
They were lost, and they had been struggling to find their way back to their dwelling and were stuck in the endless green of the Arcadian Forest. Zinnia and Aster left about three hours ago when the sun was not yet harsh, and for two of those hours they wandered aimlessly. She underestimated the maze that was the Arcadian Forest, and remembered only one advice from Professor Evergreen: 'Do NOT go to the mountains. Not with Aster.' Perhaps she had other warnings for them, but they were lost to Zinnia. She looked up and tried to see beyond the green forest canopy only to see the craggy black body of the mountains they were told to avoid, the ones darker than shadow and as black as coal, for which they are named after. She had already retraced their steps as far back as they could, but it had only gotten them farther and farther away from their starting point, which was also meant to serve as their destination. 'This was just supposed to be a morning hike,' Zinnia thought, as she sighed. To add to her mounting frustrations, it turned out that the humans in this area were more threatening to them than the wildlife.
The option to turn back and retrace their steps without reaching the village was an option, but it was something only Zinnia could take. Aster had been walking for hours, enjoying every minute of it, but the boy's energy was bound to run out sooner or later and she did not want him to go hungry. Currently, the best option was to head for the village and rest and refresh themselves, before going back the way they came and hopefully keeping the Karvounas Mountains behind them. Zinnia neither vocalized these plans nor her thoughts to her boy.
The village that the old man told them about was bigger than Zinnia expected. It was well within the countryside of Apeiron, but it seemingly embraced its isolation and its remoteness. Only a simple dirt road passed through the village; the one Zinnia and Aster were on, and another one that continued past it and back into the sea of green. These roads were untouched by the tire tracks of any wheeled vehicle, and may have been that way for centuries. The thin columns of grey smoke that mother and child saw from the distance seemingly came from a steadily-burning bonfire at the center of the town, burning around a stone pillar that rose higher than the wooden dwellings built around it. The base of the pillar had been blackened by ash and soot from the fires which upon closer inspection, Zinnia realized were burning candles and incense set upon a circular altar. The pillar was topped by a symbol that Zinnia and Aster had been familiar with by now: a central circle from which four spokes extend outwards in the shape of an 'X', and which two points are connected to each other further near its pointy end to form another circular shape, only this time the circuit was not completed.
Aster stopped walking and clasped his hands together and bowed his head, doing a silent prayer. Zinnia did the same, though she had only one hand and instead pressed her left hand against her right chest. Her people worshipped many gods, and it did not feel wrong for her to pray to this Apeironese deity. If it was the other way around, it would have likely been a problem. She prayed for a simple thing; to be delivered from this green hell, in other words, she prayed to The One to guide her back to Professor Evergreen's hunting lodge. But she knew the initiative was still on her, and she immediately set her mind into it when she finished her prayers.
Zinnia and Aster entered the village as inconspicuously as possible, opting to go for a smaller entrance that was between two large wooden houses instead of the main one that was immediately adjacent to a place that seemed to function as a marketplace, what with the stalls and the peddlers and their Pokémon. The noise of civilization was stark compared to the idle stirrings of the forest, but little Aster seemed to enjoy it as much as he enjoyed the road. Zinnia watched the glimmer in his eyes with a smile as the boy glanced one side to another, watching the Pokémon in the town who blended in with the people so perfectly that the ones who walked on two legs seemed indistinguishable sometimes.
Zinnia and Aster watched a pair of Timburr carrying crates filled with salt from one end of the marketplace to the other, stacking three on top of each other and hoisting them up with just a huff and then walking with rapid, tiny steps. A majestic Mudsdale was pulling a wooden wagon filled to the brim with fresh crops, and the moment the farmer and his horse Pokémon walked past the gate of the village, he was immediately surrounded by villagers who wanted to buy his fresh produce. The Mudsdale helped its owner and friend keep the crowd from getting too rough by stomping a foot, until finally it neighed and swung its strong neck to the right side and the left to drive the people away, and pulled the wagon to the spot where they were supposed to sell their goods. And while Zinnia thought that getting food would be nice and necessary, she preferred one that was already cooked. The salty smell of dried fish in the air made Zinnia look to the right where the aroma came from, and she walked towards the stall selling dried Wishiwashi on a wooden spit.
"Hi there," said Zinnia to the woman who was minding the stall. She looked at the rows of fish set neatly on one wooden square trencher, and then the other one that had grilled vegetables on them. She pointed at the dried fish. "Are these caught locally?"
The woman looked at Zinnia, and then did a double take. After which, a frown began to form on her brows. "Yes," she replied. "Where else would we have gotten them?"
Zinnia nodded, and did not say anything else. The sudden shift in tone felt jarring, to say the least, and she almost forgot where she was and who they were. "I'll take two of these dried Wishiwashi. Can I have one spiced up with some powdered Scovillain pepper?"
"No," said the lady, as she picked out the two dried fishes for Zinnia. "You'll have them as they are. Besides, I ran out of peppers just now."
Zinnia raised a brow. Just behind the lady, there was a barrel full of the spice she was asking for, and so much of it that she could smell it. If she got any closer, she would have felt the sting in her eyes. Zinnia was silent again. The lady seemed to be picking up the smaller ones to give to her, something that became more obvious when the two dried fishes were taken away from the rest. She pursed her lips to a straight line and sighed.
"How much?" she asked, as she reached behind her for her pouch and her purse.
"Twelve drachma. Each."
She stopped fiddling around with her pouch and her head snapped back to face the lady, with wide eyes and a slackjaw. "Twelve drachma? For both?" she echoed. Or at least, she thought she repeated what the lady had said. But Zinnia watched that face that already looked at her with scorn, and it devolved further.
"Twelve drachma each," she repeated, moving her hand away from Zinnia and the food with it.
A sigh left Zinnia's nostrils again. She glanced down at Aster who was looking back at her, and she quietly conceded. She took the sum of money she owed for the fish and placed it on the counter neatly, spreading each coin apart as if to make it painfully obvious that she did not try to pay with even less than what was demanded. Her eyes met the lady's again, and the two wooden spits and the fish were handed to her.
"Thank you," said Zinnia. After she gave Aster his share, the pair turned their back on the woman and her stall, but Zinnia still felt her pointed gaze burrowing into the back of her skull.
That old man was not exaggerating.
Zinnia looked for a place to enjoy their little snack, and she settled on a lonely tree stump near the outer bounds of the village, but from which the two of them could see the goings-on in the marketplace and the areas near the pillar surrounded by candles and incense. For all the hard times the lady gave her, at least the dried Wishiwashi tasted good. It would have been better for Zinnia if hers was spiced, but when she looked at Aster munching on his snack, she realized that it was probably not a bad idea to be given the smallest fish in the bunch. The toffee-dipped biscuits that they took with them when they started hiking ended up not lasting for the trip and back, but what Zinnia made sure to prepare was clean water primarily for Aster. As she bit down on her snack, she also realized that it was a blessing in disguise that hers was not spiced - else she would need more water than usual.
The mindful distance they kept between themselves and the village gave Zinnia some peace of mind, and the chance to relax. She was not entirely sure if anyone else realized that they were strangers, but nobody seemed eager to interact with them or throw any sort of attention their way. She preferred that. It also gave her the chance to see how the villagers and their Pokémon carried on with their lives. It took a while to stand out from the typical aroma of the busy marketplace, but Zinnia noticed that the smell of incense was also heavy in the air. It was a sweet scent, earthy and mild, and reminded her of the smell of soil after a spring rain. It brought memories of her childhood in Hoenn, when she was Aster's age. The day she first met Excelsior, the air was heavy with a similar scent after a rain that stranded her in a cave and turned the paths she used into mud. She was lost, and she was hurt. A fearsome Dragon Pokémon finding her and letting her ride on its back before flying her to safety was not an expectation, and Zinnia counted herself lucky to survive. She was luckier still that she eventually formed a strong bond with Excelsior. If she was born in Apeiron and the same thing happened, she would not doubt in thinking that Excelsior would be her hetairos. But she also understood that the Dragon Pokémon would have needed to choose her too.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
From the corner of her eye, Zinnia saw Aster perk up and point ahead. "Look, mother. Soldiers!"
Zinnia followed his finger pointing at the edge of town, where there indeed was a line of about a dozen or so uniformed men entering the village with a man wearing a funny hat and fine silken clothes walking in the middle of the group. Various Pokémon accompanied them too, and Zinnia could see a Toxicroak and a Croagunk, a pair of Scraggy, and a Yanma hovering above them. Each soldier had a long sword strapped to their hips at the right side, but were carrying firearms that must have been a hundred years out of date. At least, Zinnia only ever saw those long flintlock firearms in museum displays. Nevertheless, her first instinct was to get out of there and hide behind the shadows and the trees while quietly slipping away. The old man's warning played inside her head again, and she immediately grabbed Aster and hid behind the brushes and a tree.
"Let's go, Aster," she said, gently tugging on the boy's arm. He would not budge though, and kept on looking at the scene with wide eyes. The loud booming voice of one of the soldiers soon reached their ears, heralding the arrival of a tax collector.
"The hour of the Summer Tax is here, and the Komes demands his share of your... rustic wealth," said the man who stood in the middle of the armed company. His voice was high-pitched, nasally, and grating to the ears.
Zinnia took one look at him, and immediately hated him. And it was a view from afar too. He was a scrawny man, with a long and crooked nose and thin lips. His chin was completely bare of even a single strand of hair, revealing the pointy shape of his face and the lack of any discernible jawline. To Zinnia, his stupid hat just seemed to give way to a sharp chin through a gentle slope along the side of his face. It almost looked triangular, and that sharp chin could likely be registered as a lethal weapon. Underneath that silly headwear that was a two-tiered furry hat that had three Ducklett feathers stuck on both sides was a head that was just as hairless as his chin. Zinnia saw those dark eyes of his, and was thankful she was not staring right at them. The silks he wore fit poorly on his body, like they were one size too big. He wore a doublet in an era where those clothes were centuries out of fashion; it had long loose and flowy sleeves and a belt with a golden buckle circled his thin, unshapely waist. The shoulder parts of the clothes were trimmed with gold, and a line of gold also ran along the sides of his puffy trousers all the way down to his ankles. His shoes were polished black to the point of shininess, and its length was both abnormal and impractical to Zinnia's eyes. This man looked like he stepped right out of a history book, or a black and white photo taken over two centuries ago.
Once again, Zinnia told Aster that they needed to leave. The boy stood his ground, his attention focused entirely on the scene unfolding in the center of the village. It had gotten very silent all of a sudden too, like the whole place was abandoned in an instant. Even Zinnia felt she needed to speak in a breathless whisper lest they be heard. She managed to lift Aster off the ground by wrapping her one good arm around his waist, but the boy resisted and she had to put him down again. Before Zinnia could reprimand her child, she heard that high-pitched voice order his soldiers to disperse and collect the dues. Each market stall and merchant was approached, and everyone handed a bag full of silver and copper coins to the collectors, with some adding in a little extra like trinkets or foodstuffs. They were taken without question. At the far end of the market, a man dropped to his knees and begged the soldier to be spared the tax. Zinnia could not hear what they were talking about, but it ended with the soldier drawing his sword and then slashing at the sacks of rice and grain piled behind the begging man. Its contents were spilling out on the ground while the poor man howled in despair and desperately tried gathering the soiled grains with his shaking palms. This time, Zinnia's focus was redirected to the marketplace.
At the orders of the man with the hat, the begging peddler of grain was seized and dragged near the center of the town where the smoke from the incense and candles still rose towards the sky. He spoke to the gathered crowd on subjects relating to insolence, disobedience, and the importance of deferring to one's superiors. Whatever he was yapping about, Zinnia's ears rang and now she hated the words as well as the voice. He barked another order, and without hesitation, a third soldier approached the peddler and stomped on his kneecap - causing the leg to bend at an angle it should not be bending at as a horrid scream of pain followed, amplified by the silence. At once, Zinnia grabbed Aster forcefully and hid behind the tree, covering his ears as best she could with one arm and her cloak while also sparing him the sight. Her eyes were closed too and her teeth were grit.
"...Let's go, Aster. Now."
The child tried pulling away. "No! Mother, you need to help them! Those poor people!"
"No!" Zinnia hissed. "It's too dangerous. We have to go."
With a shove that was more forceful than she expected, Aster broke free. Zinnia stared at him with a gasp as her back pushed against the tree. She looked at his eyes. Aster was close to tears, with quivering lips and shaking legs that he tried so much to hide. Zinnia reached out towards him, but the boy stepped away and out of reach.
"Help them, mother. Please! You said to always do the right thing!" said Aster. "You're the strongest person I know. Fight those bad people with your Pokémon!"
Zinnia's arm hung in the air, and her hand slowly closed to a fist as it came back down. She did say that. But she struggled to find the words to explain the current situation to the boy in the way that would make him understand. Aster could not be dissuaded by danger to himself, she already knew that; in that way, they were similar. And though she meant what she said, as a mother the safety of her child took priority over anyone else's. She began thinking of a safe way to intervene, an act that would not garner attention for longer than necessary. Her Pokémon were kept inside Pokéballs, and were supposed to be hidden away. Now that there were armed men and other Pokémon, the risks of being caught were higher than ever. She started to scan her environment, looking for a place that was adequately far enough for Aster to hide. She still did not like the idea of intervening when they were already so unwelcome, but Aster was right.
Zinnia reached for the child, her calloused hand gently touching his face. "Okay," she said. "But you have to promise that you'll listen to me. And that you'll trust me. Can I have your word, Aster?" she asked.
The child nodded eagerly, and held her hand. "Yes, mother. I will behave. You need me to hide, right? While you let your Pokémon out?"
Zinnia was shocked at how aligned their thoughts were, and that Aster understood the situation. She nodded at him. "Yes. Stay quiet, stay hidden. I will handle everything, and I'll come back to find you as soon as I'm done."
Zinnia took Aster far enough away from the village that the sound of her Pokémon being released from their Pokéball would not reach anyone's ears. But before she did that, she made sure that the area in the forest they were in was isolated enough and that nobody was around. She picked up two Pokéballs from her bag and let out two Pokémon: a Monferno to keep Aster company, and then the grizzled old Salamence that she intended to use for the conflict. The Monferno had mischief in its eyes and went immediately to Aster's side where they slung their arms around each other's neck and shoulders, and listened to her command to keep the fire in his tail burning low, to not make noise, and to watch Aster - not play with him. Zinnia was confident in her decision to leave the monkey Pokémon with her son; the two had always been very good friends, but that was exactly what she was worried about. Monferno was a ball of energy, easily bored, and prone to pranks and mischief. Aster told her that he would do his part to contain Monferno. Now, Zinnia turned towards Salamence.
"Excelsior!" She reached out and pet the huge Dragon Pokémon's head. The Salamence had several noticeable scars on its face and neck, marks from claws or fangs or anything that could puncture skin. They were healed, but the scar tissue was a faint shade of blue darker than the rest of its skin, making them still visible on closer inspection. "I'm so terribly sorry to disturb your rest. But I need your help."
Excelsior blew warm air into Zinnia's face and growled - one that almost sounded like a laugh, and nuzzled its cheek against hers. The Pokémon made a low rumbling sound again and scraped the forest floor with its claws. Zinnia knew this to be a gesture to proceed.
"Soar," said Zinnia. "Soar high up in the sky, my friend. And when I call your name, come to my side. I know you'll hear me."
She was smiling as she continued to rub Excelsior's snout gently, and the Pokémon bared its fangs in a gesture that seemed to be like a grin. Once Zinnia moved her hand, the Salamence turned to walk a few paces away before flapping its mighty red wings. With only two flaps, Excelsior was airborne and after another, soared above the trees entirely. It ignored the green roof of the forest and flew through it, leaving behind broken twigs, branches, and bundles of leaves and fruit that stood along its flight path straight to the sky. Zinnia turned back towards Aster and Zinnia and reiterated her instructions, before bolting back to the direction they came from.
In just a short time, she reached the village again only to find that the situation had gone so much worse. After the man with the stupid hat and his goons finished cleaning out what they could in the marketplace, they moved on to individual homes and tried to squeeze the residents for more. The scene that Zinnia walked into was of a family being forcefully dragged from their house at the point of a bayonet; two children were ushered out the door first, followed by the mother who was sobbing uncontrollably, and then father who could barely walk and looked so gaunt and pale, with sunken eyes and cheekbones and barely registering the forceful words and language being said all around him. They were forced on their knees with firearms aimed at them and hostile Pokémon ready to attack. The mother was begging to be spared, desperately explaining that her husband fell ill and could not work and earn enough to pay. Two soldiers were busy inside their house, rummaging for stuff that they could take in lieu of the "Summer Tax". At the sight of this, Zinnia hurried and ignored her aching legs and feet after sprinting for quite the distance.
"Enough!"
Her voice echoed through the quiet village, louder than the annoying man's. Heads turned to look at her, some more hesitant than the others. Zinnia was standing just behind the small crowd that had gathered, staring straight ahead towards the beardless and hairless man with piercing crimson eyes and sweat trickling down from her forehead. She was moving at a slow walking pace now, ignoring the rifles that were being aimed at her as well as the Pokémon that were now aware of her presence. The crowd between her and the soldiers moved as she approached, like they were giving her a straight path. She knew it was just because they did not want to stay in the firing zone. Before long, it was just her and the soldiers and the taxman.
"Who are you?" he asked, again in that high-pitched, grating voice. He was looking her up and down, and then he pursed his lips in a pout, his nose held high. "You are not from here. I do not recognize you. And speaking of, tourists and foreigners pay extra for the Count's Summer Tax."
Zinnia shook her head, her long and braided black hair swung with the motion. "I'm not paying you shit. What I want you to do is go away and leave these people alone, and in peace." She could hear the crowd collectively speaking in hushed whispers, while the taxman scoffed at her.
"If us loyal servants to the empire folded at the first sign of resistance from insolent smallfolk like you, there would still be eighteen kingdoms trying to kill each other everyday," he said with a shrug. Then he pointed pompously to a member of the crowd with a grin, his loose silks swaying as he did. "You! Do you enjoy the peace and the quiet?"
Heads turned to the person being pointed at, and he shuddered before he answered. "Y-Yes, m'lord..."
"And do you want things to remain peaceful and quiet? Do you people want to go on with your lives unhindered and unbothered?" The question was answered by a collective affirmation by the crowd, after which the taxman with a sharp chin turned towards Zinnia. "See, Galari... This peace that they enjoy is not free. These good men behind me need to be paid for services rendered to our good Count, and to the Imperial Crown. They are only collecting what is lawfully due."
Zinnia looked at the soldiers, and particularly their weapons, and she snickered. "Yeah? Did your good Count buy those guns too, with the money he's taking from villagers who can barely feed themselves?"
The man shrugged. "Of course."
"Is that why those weapons are fucking medieval, then? If you were anywhere else in the world, the only place you'd find those... flintlock rifles are in a dig site. Do those things even work?" she asked in a mocking tone.
The hairless man grinned darkly at Zinnia, and clasped his hands together just in front of his abdomen. "Do you want to find out?" he asked, as the sound of several rifles' hammers being cocked back by the soldiers was heard, followed by gasps from the crowd.
A breath was stuck in Zinnia's throat. Her red eyes started to move frantically from one side to the other, and her mind ran in miles per second. She was staring down the barrel of half a dozen guns, but she needed to calm down. Whatever moves she had planned next, the most important thing was that she needed the guns aimed at her and not the crowd. She noticed that the firearms were pointed at her head, and a plan formed in her mind just now. She drew imaginary lines on the ground with her eyes that roughly corresponded to the paths she needed to take to close the distance between her and the soldiers. Zinnia watched the trigger fingers carefully, not counting the taxman to give the signal to fire. But in the end, he did - and it helped her time her reaction.
A loud cracking sound like thunder cut through the tense silence, followed by the intense smell of gunpowder. The moment the signal to fire was given, Zinnia lowered her stance and lunged forward - effectively ducking from the gunfire and using the smoke as opportune cover. The next moment, she was looking up towards a clueless soldier who had not even removed his line of sight from his rifle, and her calloused knuckles connected right at the front of his face. The others in the line were just as surprised to see one of their own hurled away from formation just off a single punch, but just as soon as they could blink, Zinnia had another target in her sight and another soldier got a closeup look of her hard shin as he was kicked across the face, and sent flying back like the other one.
Zinnia would have taken down a third man, were it not for the two Scraggy and the Toxicroak getting in her way. From among those Pokémon, she immediately assessed that the Toxicroak was the more dangerous one but also the closest to her. She heard the Poison-type Pokémon seemingly laughing at her while pulling back an arm with a fist that glowed purple and reeked of a noxious scent. Zinnia held her breath and planted one foot on the ground before forcefully springing back, just narrowly avoiding that Poison Jab that tore the right side of her cloak. She felt a sting in her abdomen, and instantly knew that the poisonous attack grazed her skin. Her eyes briefly went towards the other soldiers who had just finished reloading their guns, and with the crowd having fled once the scuffle started, Zinnia felt comfortable moving around. She broke to her right with a forceful sprint while the crack of firearms rang in her ears again, each bullet missing her by just a step. She hid behind a house but did not linger behind cover for long, running to the other side and trying to scope out the situation.
Zinnia did not get that chance.
Two small shadows were descending towards her. When she looked up, Zinnia saw the two Scraggy. They scaled the house from the front side and moved along the roof to get the drop on her, and they almost did. She just barely dodged one who was falling on top of her head first by quickly leaping back, avoiding an Iron Head that created a soft crater upon impact. The second Scraggy was on to her before she even fully recovered her footing, and Zinnia had to parry a High-Jump Kick with just her bare arm. The pain shot like a lightning bolt across her body, and that was from a parry. She did not dare imagine how a direct hit would feel. The next few moments came to her like a blur, with her just trying to stand her ground against two aggressive Pokémon who may have been far smaller than her but were also quicker, and were seemingly not held back by anything. Soon the Toxicroak rejoined them, and Zinnia realized that running was no longer an option.
She was surrounded from all sides; a dozen loaded rifles were aimed at her head, and three Pokémon were just about ready to rip it off if they ever got a chance. But the pause that they gave her was the opportunity she needed. Zinnia looked at the sky, and she took a deep breath.
"Excelsior!" she called out.
Nothing at first, just the sound of the blowing wind. And then a distant roar, familiar to her and almost comforting, but it was a sound that nobody else had heard before. Zinnia watched the soldiers crane their neck upwards, their aim slacking and going awry, as they whispered amongst themselves asking what the sound was. An object appeared in the blue sky, moving so fast that it almost looked like a jet plane gliding through the air like the winds just passed through it. The object circled in the sky above the village once, before hurtling downwards directly towards them. As it got closer, it's shape became more defined; a ferocious winged Pokémon with a long tail and a stout body, spike-like protrusions on the sides of its head no doubt helped its aerodynamics. It's jaws were also gaped wide open.
Excelsior went for one Scraggy, snatching it off the ground with its mouth and taking it high up in the air before letting it go and causing it to fall from a great height back down to the sea of green. It's pitiful cry was barely even heard by the men below. The Salamence circled again and slowed down, before landing directly next to Zinnia and roaring at the soldiers in front of them with breath tinged with heat and small flickers of flame. Zinnia looked at them with a smirk on her face, and with her hand she touched the side of Excelsior's face. She heard whispers of the word "dragon" being spoken by the onlookers, and among the soldiers as well.
"Excelsior is no harm to this village, nor its people. Our quarrel is with you," Zinnia said to the soldiers and to the taxman. "I will repeat what I said: you are to leave the villagers alone, and then you will return every single coin, every single bushel of wheat, every single piece of property that you stole from this village. Do you understand me?"
She was met by silence, but Zinnia loved it. It was the kind that could only come about after terror. That silence was just as quickly broken by the taxman and his annoying voice. This time, he sounded far less confident. Zinnia liked that too.
"W-What are we going to tell our lord?"
Zinnia shrugged. "Tell him that this summer is a lean one. And that he can afford to shed a few pounds," she replied with a laugh. "Now, do as I say. Excelsior and I will remain here to make sure you do what I asked you to do. One wrong move, and I'll feed you to my dragon. Excelsior happens to like the taste of human flesh, specifically the evil variety." Zinnia's laughter was joined by a rumbling growl from Excelsior.
The tough men were quaking in their boots now, their nerves broken by the threatening dragon. Zinnia could say that there was no reluctance in them relinquishing their ill-gotten gains, but there definitely was urgency. And it was good for her too, as she needed to return to Aster as quickly as possible. The pain in her abdomen started getting worse too, the part that was nicked by the Poison Jab. She thought it would not amount to anything, but she felt herself weakening slowly. She kept up appearances, hiding the pain even from her partner Pokémon. She distracted herself from the discomfort by observing the process of the soldiers returning everything that they took, and noticed that the silence between both parties felt just as odd. The speed and efficiency, on the other hand, was impressive to her. As far as she was aware, everything was accounted for and returned to their rightful owners. Even still, Zinnia and Excelsior remained to watch the soldiers retreat, until they were out of sight. She could afford to take it easy now, or so she thought.
"Begone," said one of the villagers. Zinnia recognized him as the salt merchant. "You've doomed us all with your unwelcome heroics, Galari."
Another voice spoke from somewhere in the crowd. "The Count's men will return, and we will pay triple now!" It was followed by a roar of approval, uttered in unison.
Zinnia looked at the villagers in confusion. Whoever she looked at, one thing was consistent: they stared at her, and those eyes hated. It was enough to make her take a step back, until her back touched Excelsior's side. At a loss for words, Zinnia tried to think of the correct ones to say.
"I... don't expect a reward. Keep all of your belongings," she said.
A voice from the crowd responded. "And you don't deserve one either!"
A chorus of insults began, fingers were pointed at her and even the Pokémon growled aggressively at them both. The crowd started pushing their way forward, surrounding Zinnia again, inching closer and closer and getting louder and louder. Her own attempts to calm them down and repeat that she and Excelsior were leaving immediately were drowned out by the villagers' rhythmic chants of what Zinnia heard was the word "death". Unlike before against the armed men, Zinnia could not find in her the strength to lift up her arm even in self-defense. Finally, Excelsior bellowed out a loud roar that deafened even herself, and then the Dragon blew out a column of intense flame from its mouth aimed at the sky. More than that, Excelsior swung its tough tail at the villagers in an attempt to keep them away from her, and Zinnia watched her Pokémon circle around her while growling and snapping at the villagers, who retreated inch by inch. When Excelsior threatened to spit flame again, the crowd broke in a panic and fled back to their homes.
A breathless Zinnia leaned against Excelsior's body, her heart pounding through her chest and her ears still ringing. She clung on to the Salamence as tight as she could, her arm wrapped around the base of its neck. She was repeating only one word: Aster. Excelsior stooped down so she could ride on its back, but even then, she needed to be nudged into place. The moment it felt Zinnia was holding on as securely as possible without the aid of a saddle and reins, Excelsior took to the skies and delivered its good friend to safety.
"Aster... Take me to Aster," Zinnia mumbled. She had lost feeling in her abdomen and her right leg was starting to feel numb.
