HECTOR

The cavern of Meteor Falls was enormous. It seemed to Hector to be a world apart from anything he had ever seen. The ceiling of the cave was so high up, and the air still so fresh, he found it hard to stop believing he was still outside.

Where is all this light coming from? He wondered to himself as he walked in alongside King Brandon Brightflame and the King's Blaziken. The deep rivers seemed to illuminate a soothing light wherever they snaked their way through the rocky floors.

They had taken the cavern settlement easily. Brandon had led the charge through one of the entrances to the mountain caves, the other pathways were watched carefully by Odara's fiercest archers and some keen-eyed bird Pokemon. Hector had been in charge of one of those groups. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt every time a fleeing Sootopolis soldier was struck in the back, the legs, or the neck with an arrow.

They wear the Blue Orb of the Empress Glamour, he told himself. They are our enemies. Yet, inside he couldn't help but wonder if they really served the Empress or not. How many of these men had been conscripted from all across Hoenn to take part in the occupation of the villages and cities of the land? How many of these men and their Pokemon had Hector might have known from his childhood in Slateport?

He looked at his friend, Brandon Brightflame. The rightful King of Mt. Chimney wore a proud look on his face. Hector had seen one of his friends, a soldier, die by Brandon's hands, in the past. That was before everything changed. Seventeen years had passed, yet he still remembered that it was Brandon's strength that had seen him through the death of Hector's other friend and king. He looked down at his left arm. He tried to flex his fingers, but the scars still were still pinkish red, and his nerves had trouble responding.

For a moment, his thoughts turned to his bride to be, waiting faithfully for his return home in Odara. Brandon saved my life. For that, I owe him this debt. I'm sorry, Alicia, our love must wait.

They had arrived at the great waterfall. Pouring down from what seemed like golden heavens above, the crashing sound echoed off the cave walls and played like music in Hector's ears. Brandon's mercenary captains were chatting casually amongst themselves. Not a house was destroyed in the battle, not a single villager's life lost.

"How many men did we lose?" Brandon asked.

Captain Joseph responded in kind. "A dozen or so. These men that patrolled the caverns were the only ones armed. As soon as we broke through their first line, you saw how they ran like little Poochyena with their tails between their legs."

"Aye, they did," Brandon said. There was a glimmer of pride that Hector hadn't seen in a long time. "Our first victory it was, but a hollow one. As hollow as this mountain." He gazed up and down the falls. "The force the Empress left here was nothing but a shell, a peace-keeping unit. Designed to put a stop to uprisings from unarmed villagers." He looked at Hector. "Did any of the men slip through your ambush forces?"

Hector remembered each and every man who dropped dead to the ground outside Meteor Falls, fettered with arrows. "No, my King."

"Joseph, did you capture any officers?"

"Aye, we did," Joseph whistled louder than the crashing of the waterfall. A disheveled man was brought before Brandon. He was middle-aged, his hands bound by thick rope. The Odaran soldiers laughed as he was kicked down in front of the company.

Hector watched Brandon Brightflame kneel down before the captive. "Where are you from?" the red-haired exile King asked.

"Here," the man said. "Meteor Falls."

"A local man," Brandon said quietly. "Do you know who I am?"

The hostage nodded slowly as he spied Blaziken standing tall and silent behind Brandon. "You're Brandon Brightflame."

"I'm your rightful King. Meteor Falls was part of my family's domain for centuries."

The man sniffled and looked around. "Yes, of course." The captured man got on his knees and bowed to Brandon. "I surrender, any of my remaining men surrender. You are my King."

Hector looked around, facing them, a crowd of villagers had begun to appear, elders and young men and women all gathering to take in this odd sight.

Brandon stood up and spoke aloud, facing the people of Meteor Falls that had gathered to watch. Hector noticed the Odaran mercenary captains fiddling with their weapons disinterestedly. "You hear that?" he asked them, enthusiastically. "The man in charge has surrendered your city to me, Brandon Brightflame." Silence followed. "Rejoice!" Brandon continued, "You know that name, the name of your ancestor's kings." The people still remained silent.

Brandon seemed confused. He walked over to Hector. "Why aren't they cheering for me?" he asked. "I've returned at long last to claim what is mine. Their King has returned."

"If I may be frank, your grace," Hector replied. "Meteor Falls was the territory of the Starfalls under your father, who overthrew your family and took control. They have no love for you or your family. Before the Empress took control, they were loyal to their Chief before their King."

Hector's skin grew cold with apprehension as he saw Brandon study the steadily growing crowd of people who were watching these proceedings. Brandon's voice grew quiet, so only Hector could hear, but he could feel the blaze behind the whisper. "If they will not love me, then they will fear me." He paced over to the captive Sootopolis commander. Blaziken's arms began to spark in angst. Hector figured that it could feel his Spirit Partner's anger.

"Who did you serve before you enlisted in the Sea Bitch's army?" Brandon asked, kneeling down and grabbing the hostage by the hair.

"S...Starfall," the man muttered.

"The people can't hear you!" Brandon said louder as he gestured to the now sizable crowd. The Odarans seemed to be enjoying this show now.

"Starfall!" The man cried out.

"How long did you serve Chief Miguel Starfall before he took my father's throne?" No response from the man. "HOW LONG?"

It seemed to take forever for the echo to die down, but afterword, the silence of everyone else made it easy to hear "five years, my king."

Brandon stood back up, a rage in his eye. Hector remembered seeing that look seventeen years ago. It was the same look the fire-headed young man had whenever he entered a battle. "Do you hear that, people of Meteor Falls? This man," the ring of metal filled the cavern as Brandon drew one of his twin swords from its sheath and pointed it at the fallen commander, "conspired with a traitor to kill his King, my father, and take the throne for himself!"

The terrified and muffled voice of the man could be heard breaking through his sobs. "I'm sorry, my King, I was just following orders."

"Well, then, you followed the wrong orders."

Hector almost raised his voice, almost lifted a hand... but when he saw his scarred left arm, he put it back down, as if some feeling of guilt or loyalty compelled him.

Brandon's long thin sword whirled around in a flurry and with a single stroke, the captive's head flew off of his shoulders and landed in the pool of the waterfall with a plop. Blood sprayed into the waters where the falls tumbled down.

"Grrrrooooooo," there came a disembodied sound from behind the Odaran mercenaries. They parted to reveal a chained down Solrock. It eyes were in a panic, it was trying to thrash about, in obvious pain.

A Spirit Pokemon, Hector knew. Images began to flash before Hector's eyes of a time long past. He remembered the time that Chris Marsh was struck down, and his Swampert roared in anguish, until its eyes finally went dark. He remembered watching his friend Ryan choke, clutching his stomach as Spirit Pokemon was slaughtered in the Battle of Mauville, seventeen years ago... by Brandon Brightflame.

"Blaziken," Brandon said finally, "Put the thing out of its misery, it's always harder for the second one." Hector turned away.

How long had Hector remained there, gazing up at the top of the waterfall? Time had passed too fast. He opened his flask and took a drink. The warm feeling of the alcohol coursed through his chest. It was comforting. Why couldn't I act? Why couldn't I save a life? He asked himself over and over again. He had known mercy was the correct tactical call.

He had made a promise to Brandon that he would help win back the Lavastone Throne... but when he saw the man die and his Spirit Pokemon burned alive before his eyes, it made him second guess why he was here. He could be safe at home in Alicia's arms.

Hector looked down at his mangled arm. This is why, he knew. Brandon Brightflame had saved his life and become his friend. But that was why I must act, Hector knew.

Helping the Brightflame Dynasty be restored was one thing, and helping it be maintained quite another. Hector took another drink as he remembered the emotionless crowd earlier that day. "Next time, I will act," he told himself. "I will show Brandon the way of mercy, the way to win the hearts of the people he wants to rule. He can't do it alone."

In seventeen years, Hector had known that Brandon had some good in him, some understanding of right and wrong, of honor. It was his temper that sometimes got the best of him...

Clink.

Hector turned around as he heard the faint sound of falling metal on rock behind him. He looked down and saw a shining coin in the drowsy moonlight radiating through the caverns. Underneath the coin was a piece of parchment. Hector unrolled it and began to read.

For the returned Brightflame: expect us.

-Draconid

Hector was confused. Was there another faction within Hoenn that was unaccounted for? Just how much has changed since we've been in Odara? He asked himself.

There were too many questions, too many feelings for one night. He needed to check on the Lady Luna and Gallade. Perhaps he would take her to see the waterfall. The same waterfall where her husband, Sam Marsh, had died in a battle longer ago than Hector could remember. The mysterious note could wait for morning.