PARAGON
Remnants of the Great War Arc [17]
Chapter 26 : Cloak and Dagger
Caleb watched as men moved around him, but he was beginning to tune them out, sight and sound, like frost creeping across a window in winter. He was back in Kalos. This was Shalour, he was pretty sure? He’d never been here, but the looming tower of white granite and red tile outside certainly looked like the Tower of Mastery he’d heard about. It was night, but away from the oppressive lights of Lumiose, stars glittered in the sky like gems on a bed of soft black velvet.
He’d woken up in a plastic chair up against the wall in some sort of office space. The desks and cubicles looked barren, but men were carrying boxes and talking in hushed voices when he’d come to. They ignored him, and it was clear he’d been put where he was so he wouldn’t get in the way.
Instinctively, his hand drifted to his belt. Thankfully, all six of his pokémon were still there, and he breathed a sigh of relief. No matter what happened, as long as he had his pokémon, he could do anything. Without them, he was nothing.
His oldest memory worth remembering was of Lord Vandrick. For years, he’d survived in the allies of Lumiose, eating trash, which itself had been hard won due to the legion of Rattata who were in competition with him for it. But one day, in the dumping rain, on a day when his stomach was even more barren than usual, Lord Vandrick appeared. At first, he thought he was hallucinating. After all, why would anyone ever lower themselves into his domain of garbage, much less a man dressed as extravagantly he was? Then Caleb thought it must've been a mistake. This rich fellow just took a wrong turn, but when he saw Caleb, he’d pinch his nose and turn right around. Surely. But Lord Vandrick walked toward him, without an umbrella. Then Caleb thought he must’ve been invisible. He doesn’t see me. He’s just walking in my direction. He’ll walk past me without a second glance.
But Lord Vandrick strode right up to him, and stopped, then knelt down and looked him in his eyes. For the very first time in his life, someone saw him. These were not the beady eyes of some feral rat, or the empty gaze of some other abandoned child who’d peered down his alley, only to see that this one was already taken. This man, this real person from the real world, had recognized his existence.
All Lord Vandrick did was extend his hand. No, first, he pulled off his glove. Words were not needed, though Caleb couldn’t speak anyway. And overnight, Caleb had become Caleb.
Lord Vandrick clothed him, fed him, and educated him, and when he was ten, he presented him with three pokéballs, and a choice. Chespin, Fennekin, or Froakie.
It’d been years since he’d lived on the streets, but a fire-type would ensure he’d never go to sleep shivering for the rest of his life.
And so he set out as any other ten year old would. But Lord Vandrick expected much. And after coming under his wing, Caleb had seen other children fail to meet Lord Vandrick’s expectations. He never saw them again. So Caleb made sure he’d be so good Lord Vandrick would never even consider getting rid of him. A miracle had already happened. He would guard it with his life. The life he’d been given. No matter what was asked of him. He would not let Lord Vandrick down.
“Caleb.”
The young man raised his head and saw his master standing before him. Their eyes met, and Caleb knew that Lord Vandrick knew he’d lost. His gaze felt like a slash across the face.
Caleb jumped out of his chair and bowed down to a ninety degree angle. “Master…”
“Tell me what happened. I’ll hear it straight from you,” he said quietly.
Caleb grit his teeth. He’d never suffered a loss so humiliating. Against an opponent with such weak pokémon too! “Master… I—“
“Ah, Lord Vandrick.”
A shadow fell over Caleb, and he looked up to find AZ towering over the both of them, his thick gray locks hanging down like the side of a cragged mountain.
“Your Grace,” Lord Vandrick said, shifting tones immediately and dipping into a kneel. Caleb joined him. “My apologies, I thought you were still in the tunnel below. I was planning on meeting you down there.”
“At ease. I wanted you to know that everything went according to plan. We can attack Rota at any time.”
“That’s excellent news, your Grace,” Lord Vandrick said, standing.
“There were some unexpected elements, but that is the nature of war, of course.” His palm slammed down on Caleb’s shoulder, and the boy winced. “I must say, this young man is exactly as you described, Lord Vandrick. I should have trusted your word. He is indeed a reliable man.”
Caleb’s mouth quivered as Lord Vandrick’s attention shifted back to him.
His master frowned ever so slightly. “Is that right? Well, that makes me very pleased to hear.” He smiled. “Well done, Caleb.”
“A-Ah, thank you, Master.”
“If it’s alright, I’d like to have a word with the young man, in private,” AZ continued. “Can you attend to matters down below, Lord Vandrick?”
Lord Vandrick bowed. “At once, your Grace.” As he walked away, he caught Caleb’s eye, and the message was clear. Do not embarrass me.
Too late. Caleb’s face heated up and his heart hammered in his chest. His master’s employees milling around, who he normally thought nothing of, were welcome company. AZ didn’t terrify him like he seemed to with the others, but he still didn’t want to spend any time alone with the giant.
Lord Vandrick passed through a set of frosted doors, and then he was gone. Caleb swallowed, resting his hand on his pokéballs for comfort.
“Let’s get some privacy,” AZ said, moving toward one of the empty conference rooms that lined the office space.
Caleb’s heart sank and he followed tepidly. Once inside the conference room, he could clearly make out the Tower of Mastery, and the dark ocean beyond. The city was still and quiet, unlike his own emotions right now.
AZ sat down on top of the table in the center, too large for any of the leather swivel chairs that surrounded it, and he motioned for Caleb to take a seat, which he did. In his tattered clothes, it was a strange sight to see him surrounded by such modernity, but sitting there, backlit by the night sky and sleeping city, AZ looked like a king.
Luckily, the door was still open, which eased Caleb’s mind ever so slightly. Caleb wasn’t privy to the details of his master’s master’s escape from the World Prison, nor the circumstances that’d gotten him in there, but his encounter with that psychic outside Rota had made it pretty clear the authorities weren’t messing around with him. Clearly she was a part of some sort of black ops unit, likely secret, since there still wasn’t a single word of AZ’s escape on the local news. But if anything, that only made Caleb even more nervous. What sort of monster did his master serve? And what would become of him now that they were alone together?
“Are you alright?” AZ asked.
Caleb quickly made eye contact, but the sight of AZ’s weathered eyes made him avert almost immediately. “Yeah—yes! Of course, Master…sir.”
“Be honest.”
Caleb hesitated. Really, he felt fine. He’d expected headaches or something, but the psychic girl clearly knew what she was doing. There were no after effects.
His eyes narrowed. Something else bubbled beneath his trepidation, steaming and condensing on his consciousness. “That girl… That psychic…” A baleful smile split his face. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been beaten? And I mean really beaten?”
His question hung in the air for a moment, before remembering who he was talking to. He quickly moved to correct himself, but AZ already had a quieting hand up.
“It’s frustrating, isn’t it?,” AZ said. “We sweat and bleed for the things we want, but then something comes along and breaks all the rules.” He met Caleb’s gaze again, and this time, the boy didn’t look away. “That girl is a formidable one. Not to tarnish your pride as a warrior, or a trainer, rather, but she was far beyond your level. She was the biggest threat there. Aside from me, of course.”
“Wait, what about that other guy?” Caleb asked, his confidence slowly returning. “I got a few looks, but it looked like he was trying to fight you directly!”
“Ah, the Platebearer. Yes, his potential is great. Far greater than the girl, no doubt. But he does not know the fury of war yet. He wasn’t fighting to hurt me, not truly. But…the girl has a latent darkness. I would prefer not to encounter her again.
Caleb drank in his words. “You mean…you’re afraid of her too?”
“Now, I didn’t say that,” AZ said, continuing before Caleb could cut in with an apology. “Those machines on her arms have reduced her to a fraction of her true destructive potential, for her own sake, I presume. Nevertheless, you were lucky to escape with your life.”
Caleb turned away, shame burning on his face despite AZ’s words. AZ seemed to notice this and averted his own gaze, to relieve the pressure on the boy.
“I witnessed your battle from a distance. Lord Vandrick’s assessment of you was accurate. Perhaps it’s just the passage of the times, but your skills as a trainer are above anything I saw in the Great War. You may be more advanced than even I.”
“S-Sir! No way! Not a chance!” Caleb waved his hands furiously.
AZ smiled. “Perhaps I exaggerated a little. But I believe you are well-suited to the task I have in mind for you. Lord Vandrick told you of this, no?”
“Oh! Yeah! I’ll be defending that underground machine, right?”
“That’s right. It is an assignment of utmost importance. Lord Vandrick and I will be in Rota. It will fall to you alone to protect it.”
Caleb clutched his pokéballs tightly. “But…if that psychic is there…I’ll do my best, but—“
“The girl is in Rota now, as is the Platebearer. The king of the Guardians won’t let her leave, of that, I’m certain.” AZ raised an eyebrow. “But I’m surprised you’d admit your weakness so easily. Are you so candid with your master?”
“I just…”
“Hah hah, I’m teasing,” AZ rumbled. “Forgive this old man. You’re the only one of my men with any personality. Even Lord Vandrick…he’s quite rigid, isn’t he?”
“He’s a great man, even if he is a little strict,” Caleb said, the words spilling out.
AZ smiled. “Your loyalty is commendable. I shouldn’t have asked you to speak ill of your master.”
He clutched Caleb’s shoulders, and a kingly warmth spread through him.
“Since before we set out, I sense you’ve been wanting to ask me something,” AZ said.
Caleb flushed red in embarrassment. He wasn’t used to being treated like a child by anyone except Lord Vandrick. “It’s nothing, really.”
“Ask.”
Caleb’s mouth twitched. “I…I guess I was just curious why we needed to set up the teleportation spot if we could already teleport so close to begin with.” He rubbed his arms nervously.
AZ looked down at him, amused, not offended at all. “A good observation. But despite how it looks, Rota is quite heavily defended, by much more than meets the eye. There are enchantments carved into the land itself that would make a standard approach… not feasible. By establishing a psychic node just beyond the border, we can bypass most of their spells.”
Caleb nodded slowly. “I see. That…makes sense. Thank you,” he quickly added.
“Any more questions?” AZ asked. “Lord Vandrick is loyal, but he has never once questioned me. I get the impression he’s not even interested in what I want to do or why I’m doing it.”
Caleb racked his brain. To be honest, he wasn’t all that interested either. Anything his master asked of him, he would do, no questions asked. It must’ve been the same way between his master and AZ. But after a minute, he thought of something.
“A-Are you alright, sir? Same question you asked me, I guess.”
AZ pondered the question, before turning to Caleb. His eyes gleamed beneath the shadow of his cap. “I will be.”
The flight from Alola to Kanto was relaxing enough, but having to ride on Garchomp’s rough hide the whole way over the forests beyond Cerulean City was more than Cynthia wanted to deal with right now. Mount Moon stood tall against the blue sky, flanked by sharpened spires of stone that made flight difficult. But time was of the essence.
She began receiving a string of texts of Sabrina earlier this morning while her plane cruised over the ocean. Things had played out exactly as Cynthia had expected. Ash and Sabrina were defeated, and AZ escaped. What she didn’t expect was the sudden arrival of Anabel, or what had happened to her.
Anabel lost her right arm to AZ. The Guardians are taking care of her and she’s in stable condition and conscious.
Cynthia had reread the message several times, chewing on her nail, something she never did.
…lost her right arm…
Of course, she had told them not to confront him. As far as fault and blame were concerned, Cynthia was objectively quite low on the list. Nevertheless, her heart burned in her chest, like heated lead. She was the head of Paragon, after all. At the end of the day, they were all her responsibility.
Not to mention, there was a glaring absence in Sabrina’s report about how Anabel herself was holding up. Cynthia could’ve simply asked, but that wouldn’t be proper. She’d talk to Anabel in person and see for herself.
Rota came into view later that afternoon, just as the sun was beginning its descent. Cameran Palace sat nestled atop a glasslike lake, but Sabrina had given her a different location. After passing over the town south of the palace, Cynthia found her destination: a grand manor at the end of a long road. She landed on the road and recalled Garchomp, and started toward the manor.
From what she could piece together from Sabrina’s messages, the World Champion had swooped in and saved them in the nick of time, and this manor belonged to him. She’d said they’d had a lengthy conversation with him that would be far easier to explain in person, but the most important revelation was that Albrecht was also over three thousand years old, just like AZ.
Considering she’d only just found out Albrecht was a Guardian yesterday, his age was an even bigger shock. For all his mysteries, Cynthia had never considered this possibility. It all seemed too absurd to be real, each new piece of information she learned about him more unbelievable than the last.
But if he was telling the truth, and he really was from the time of the Great War, then it was as Cynthia suspected.
He knew.
He knew about everything she wanted to know. The answers she’d been looking for, about who was really at the top. It wasn’t the Champions, she’d learned. And it wasn’t the World Champion either.
But it was this World Champion. Here was a man who’d survived the Great War and persisted for over three thousand years to the current day. If anyone knew where the real power in the world rested, it would be him.
She was walking into the dragon’s den now, but dragons had gold, and if she played her cards right, she suspected she’d find even more treasure deep in the annals of this hallowed land.
Sabrina met her outside, just beyond an iron fence that circled the manor. A maid stood slightly behind her, probably to screen her before she entered. The World Champion didn’t take unsolicited visitors.
“Sabrina,” Cynthia said after getting close enough. “Thank you for the report.”
The girl nodded glumly. She was normally fairly stoic, but she looked even more muted than usual. She immediately began padding away slowly, back toward the manor, as if on auto pilot.
“Lady Cynthia, Master Albrecht is honored by your visit,” the maid bowed. “Please, allow me to take you to the patio for some tea. I understand Master Albrecht has much to discuss with you.”
Is that right? I would’ve liked to have seen Anabel first, but I suppose she’ll have to wait. “I’d love to take you up on that, thank you.”
Cynthia followed her into the house, and quickly recognized the colors and style of the Guardians everywhere. She’d only been to Cameran Palace a couple times before, but it stood out as distinctly medieval in such a modern world, and this mansion was no different. It smelled of wood and stone, and history.
The patio in back overlooked an open field pocked with boulders. Based on scorch marks across the grass and several shattered rocks, it looked like a battle had taken place.
A different maid arrived to pour her some tea, and she left behind another cup for Albrecht for when he arrived. But after she left, Cynthia didn’t move to drink it.
Albrecht arrived several minutes later in his usual spotless suit and mischievous glint in his eyes. He took the seat opposite her and took a sip of tea, then smiled. “Welcome to Albrecht Manor, Champion Cynthia. I didn’t expect you’d be here so soon or I would’ve prepared a banquet that befits your station.”
“Where’s Ash?” she asked immediately.
Albrecht carefully placed his cup back down onto its dish. “Not to worry, he’s just inside resting. He’s been working quite hard this morning.”
“Doing what, exactly?”
The World Champion folded his hands together and leaned back in his chair. “My turn.”
Cynthia’s eyes narrowed, but she acquiesced. “I serve at your pleasure, World Champion.”
“Do you?” he asked, meeting her gaze.
Cynthia’s heart shivered. Here we go.
“When I spoke with Ash in Saffron, he told me he was working for you. Those two young ladies with him appear to be doing the same. A former World Champion, gym leader, and Frontier Brain, no less. You’ll have to forgive my curiosity.”
If I don’t tell him, I’m sure he’ll find out eventually. Better that it comes from me. “I work for an off-the-books sect of the International Police,” Cynthia said cooly. “Ash and the others are assets of mine.”
Albrecht nodded slowly, absorbing her response. “I see. The International Police.” He seemed to be thinking about something.
“What about you?” Cynthia asked. “I heard you ordered all the Champions to protect certain Interpol black sites. You’re not a part of Interpol. And you ordered all of them except me. Why?”
Albrecht met her gaze again, but he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest but the question, or her slightly accusatory tone. “If you want to keep your clothes dry, go around a storm instead of through it. In short, I wasn’t sure of your intentions, so I decided to leave you be. The other Champions don’t have anything as exciting as you going on, I’m afraid.”
“That’s it?”
Albrecht scooted back closer to the table and crossed his arms on it. “My dear. Let’s speak candidly, or at least as much as we can. I respect the position you’re in, after all. I’m not sure how much you’ve heard from Ash or the others, but the more you give, the more I can give.”
“They’ve told me little,” Cynthia said. “Only that you’re a bit older than you look.”
Albrecht smiled and ran his fingers through his snow white hair. “Yes, I’ve been around awhile. Too long, I would say. But they told it true. I am the last king of the Guardians, from the age of the Great War.”
Cynthia pursed her lips and tried to keep a poker face, but it was tough to do when the man in front of her had basically just confessed to being immortal. The only thing that kept her from immediately blurting out a string of questions was the knowledge that he was also a Guardian. To the Aura wielders of Rota, even something like a human’s natural lifespan was a rule to be bent. She’d met a few Guardians who looked younger than they actually were before, but only by a decade or two at most. Albrecht’s feat was legendary.
“What do you want?” she eventually asked, reaching for her tea. At this point, it’d be rude to continue refusing.
Albrecht let her question hang for almost a minute. He clearly wanted to give her a satisfactory answer.
“I want peace. That’s one of the reasons I sent the Champions where I did.”
Before Cynthia could ask a follow up, or even process his answer, he rounded on her. “What do you want, Lady Champion?”
What do I want? Cynthia repeated in her mind. Can I tell him? The more she talked with him, the more trustworthy and good he seemed. It almost made her wonder why she’d been so wary about him in the first place.
No, she knew why she didn’t trust him initially. She didn’t trust him because she was led to believe he was untrustworthy. He said he wants peace. What does that even mean? Peace between who? But the moment she thought about it, she knew.
It was the same conflict she herself was so interested in. The shadow war between the string-pullers. The war she’d joined, that she’d been desperately trying to gain an upper hand in. Till now, she’d been waging her war off instinct alone, based on the movements of the other players. Reactively. When the sharks moved, she responded to the currents that rippled out. This strategy had forced her to play a role she didn’t necessarily want to play. But here was a chance to take a leap of faith.
Do you? Albrecht had asked. Do you serve me?
The answer was no.
She served herself. No one else. She pursued her own goal. And that goal was…
“I want to win the war,” she finally said.
“Oh?” Albrecht said, a glint in his eyes. “And what war would that be?”
“The Great War, of course,” she said. “It never ended, did it?”
Albrecht smiled. “Very good. Yes, you’re right. AZ and I should be proof enough. The Calamity put things on ice for a time, but humans are feckless creatures. Once we learned about true power, nothing could stop us. The proverbial fire could not be extinguished.”
Cynthia frowned, raising a finger to her lip in thought. Then she glanced back up at Albrecht. “The Plates of Arceus?”
“Of course.”
His confirmation dropped several more puzzle pieces into place in her mind. “There’s something more to them… The Great War was fought over them?” She glanced up again at Albrecht for his response.
“Right again,” he smiled. “I’m glad you’re so knowledgeable about the Great War so I don’t have to relitigate the entire thing again.”
He must’ve explained the whole thing from start to finish from Ash and the others. “So you and AZ were fighting over the Plates. And then AZ used one of them to enact the Calamity?”
“That’s the idea,” Albrecht sighed. “But we weren’t exactly fighting over the Plates. It was more like the Guardians were trying to protect them from him.”
Protecting them? He said the Great War hasn’t ended. Which means there are still people out there vying for the Plates. But AZ’s been in prison all this time, and Albrecht only recently became a big deal. Which means he’s been in hiding, or at least not acting on the world stage. So neither of them are still going after them. But who…?
Cynthia’s eyes widened. She couldn’t help it. But she quickly recomposed herself, pushing her initial thought to the back of her mind. “AZ’s reappearance. And your ascension to World Champion. Neither of them have anything to do with the Great War, do they? It revolved around Rota and Kalos three thousand years ago, but your participation ended. It moved on without you.”
Albrecht clapped his gloved hands together. “You are a menace of brilliance. You’re right again. Rota and Kalos are insignificant actors now. What exists between AZ and me now is purely personal. A three thousand year old revenge that has little, if anything, to do with the Plates.” He turned to face the grassy expanse of Rota stretching out beside them. “I understand it’s your job to report your findings to the International Police, and then some, but if this old man could make one request, I’d ask you to allow me to end this on my own terms.”
“What does that entail?”
“AZ will be coming here soon,” Alrebcht said very matter-of-factly. “And when he does, I think it’d be best if Interpol doesn’t get involved. You’ll have my word that the Champions will stay away too. I’ll even give you the order this time.”
“No deal, to that last part. I will be here. As will the Paragon Organization. You may want to settle things with AZ yourself, but he isn’t coming alone. And if it’s like you say, then all of Kanto is in grave danger.” Cynthia shook her head. “No, the whole world, perhaps.”
Albrecht frowned. “What did you just say?”
“I said we’re staying here,” she said firmly.
“No, before that. The name of your group. The Paragon Organization?”
“Yes. Have you heard of us?”
Albrecht turned away again, in thought. “No,” he eventually said, without looking back. After another lengthy pause, he continued. “Very well. Do what you will. I’ll maintain the same policy as before. You can act as you see fit. I’ll not interfere. But until AZ arrives, Ash will continue working with me.”
“And why would I allow that? What is it you’re doing with him? You still haven’t told me.”
“I think it’s best if he told you himself,” Albrecht said, flicking his head behind Cynthia.
She turned. Ash was standing behind her, Pikachu on his shoulder, and his Lucario at his side. Dirt and sweat matted his face, but he seemed well enough.
“Yo, Cynthia,” he said, throwing up a hand.
Next — Chapter 27 : Calm Before The Storm
A plot hole has been sitting in the story for some time now, which I just corrected. It’s nothing too major, but if there’s any confusion, feel free to PM me.
