Chapter Seventeen: Beneath The Moonlight

"Go back to your studying, Regis." The older man shook his head. "They're mere peasants from another village that came to ask for help, and they don't concern you."

His son glared at him in response, gesturing to the hallway which he had come from. "Don't we have many spare rooms?" he protested. "Letting them stay in one of them isn't an inconvenience at all. I think we should help them."

"You'll only make more foolish decisions if I encourage your way of thinking," the king responded. "You'll never make a good successor if you try to help everyone. You have to accept the fact that there's a social hierarchy for a reason."

Regis folded his arms at that, and he shot his father a displeased scowl as he spoke. "This is just an exception. If we have the capacity to help someone, why shouldn't we?"

The two of them glared at each other, bickering back and forth for what seemed like several more minutes before the king turned to them with narrowed eyes and a disgruntled face.

"If there's one thing my son can do right, it's persuading," the man grunted, holding out a hand to call off his guards and waving them away with the other as if they were little more than vermin. "If you want to help peasants, Regis, then do it yourself. I'll have no hand in this."

A smile crossed the younger boy's face as he stepped back, the tense expression fading from his skin and replaced with a relieved smile. "Thank you, Father. I won't ask for more—I believe it will suffice to give them money for an inn. Then, I will return to my studying, if it helps you."

"Nothing you do helps me in any way." The king shook his head in reply. "I'm already late to my meeting. Stay out of trouble, won't you?"

Regis responded with a small laugh, averting his gaze and turning to the four of them with a smile. "Don't worry," he called back, ushering his guests forward as he threw a sideways glance over his shoulder. "I'll be good."

§

"It's not the best, but it'll fit three of you." The prince shot them an apologetic smile as he walked them into their room. "I'm sorry for what happened with my father, by the way. It happens a lot."

Lillian raised an eyebrow, looking at the taller boy with a questioning glance as she sat down on one of the beds. "You're not on good terms with him? At least, that's what I gathered when you two were speaking."

Aiden's breath hitched when she spoke. He'd learnt a bit about the Hoenn girl in the time he'd worked with her—and while she hadn't told him much, he knew that her father was a sore subject that she didn't like to talk about.

"You noticed, huh?" Regis glanced down at the ground. "We just have differing beliefs. That's why we tend to argue a lot. Still, I can deal with it, so don't worry."

The teenager nodded at that. "I wasn't planning to," she replied, "but I do hope it'll stop sometime. Differences are the thing that can kill a relationship, you know."

The ghost blinked at that. Her voice didn't have the slightest waver; it was still strong, as if the topic didn't faze her at all, and he was surprised that she wasn't faltering in the slightest. "I think I said too much, so I'll stop here."

Regis shook his head in response. "No, it's fine," he chuckled. "Anyways, I have to get back to studying now, so just make yourself at home."

He was gone after that, leaving in a hurry just like a whirlwind sweeping through the door, and Lillian straightened up just seconds after he disappeared outside. "So, what are we going to do if we're going to find out anything?"

"It's nearing night," Avis commented, and there was a typical bluntness in his voice that made his shoulders tremble with relief. "I don't think we'll be able to do anything until tomorrow, so why not we think about that then?"

"It's evening," his partner argued back. "We're wasting a good part of one day if we just sit around here, so we should go out and investigate a little."

The boy sighed in reply. "Do what you want, but I'm not coming along. You're not going to get anywhere, so I don't see the need to come along for something trivial."

His hand jerked a little at that, as if he'd realised the gap in personalities and that he was wearing no mask then, and he looked like he wanted to slap his palm over his mouth at his mistake—and Aiden wished that there was a world where his brother didn't need to feel that way for being himself, but a wish was only a wish and there was nothing he could do about it.

There was a rather restless silence for the next few moments; yet, the former knight enjoyed the still peace that enveloped them like a half-worn blanket. He'd never gotten much of it while in the army, after all, and he loved every drop of the unfamiliar warmth like a touch-starved child.

It was kind of ironic, now that he was thinking deeper about it. He'd gotten nothing but praise upon praise ever since he was young, but he craved something far deeper than that.

"If you thought that way, then you would have never chosen to work with me," the girl sighed in response. "I'll go by myself, then."

"I'll go, but I'm only staying to get some food. There's really no stopping you once you get your mind on something, right?" his brother sighed. "Yan, do you need anything or do you just want to wait until tomorrow morning?"

He watched as the girl fumbled for a response, unable to hide a small grin in spite of the uncanny situation. "It's—it's fine. I'm not that hungry, and I don't think Arceus would give us insufficient time, so..."

"It's always a good thing to start early, but you do have a point," Lillian hummed. Her voice was light; different from the usual overbearing arrogance that she carried herself with, and it was clear that she had a soft spot for the younger girl. "Well, we'll leave you for the rest of the evening."

They were out of the inn's wooden door within moments, with Avis trailing behind as Lillian led the way with that recognisable confidence of hers—and Yan turned to the corner he stood in as soon as the door shut behind them.

"You looked panicked at the castle," she commented, sitting down at one of the two small beds and swinging her legs as she glanced at him. "Did anything happen?"

He sucked in a short gulp of air, surprised at how cold and bitter it seemed to taste just under the roof of his tongue, and turned to his—unofficial—partner. "I think it's because I'm dead, but I recognised the prince as who I was in my past life."

Yan didn't say anything. She just gazed at him, grey eyes thoughtful and filled with a painful melancholy that made her look far too old for her age, as if she wanted him to speak more.

"I know this is supposed to be about your ability, but I can't help but think that the prince plays an important role in this." He frowned at his sentence, pausing for a little while before continuing. "Maybe if we watch him, we could find who you used to be? It's just a suggestion."

"Well, it's the only one we have." Yan didn't sound angry at him, but her tone held a definite kind of defeat that took its form in an invisible shade of grey.

He nodded, not knowing what to say to that. "I guess."

She sighed when he blinked at her, teetering between the edges of speaking more and keeping his mouth shut, and he ultimately went with the latter option when the girl's lips moved to form yet another string of words.

"Do you have anything in mind?" Yan asked, averting her gaze and keeping her tone soft. Her legs had curled underneath her, coming to a tense halt and resting again the wood of the bed's frame. "You seem to do, so I just thought that I'd ask you."

"Sort of," he muttered. "It's not a definite plan, though, but it works. I'll be able to watch the prince while you investigate with Lillian and Avis."

His friend raised an eyebrow at that, the scowl on her face melting to an expression that resembled worry more than anything. "And you're going to be fine? I mean, are you still dead in this world—it's your past life too, isn't it?"

"No one seemed to see me when I saw at the castle." Aiden exhaled at that, recalling the way the prince had raised his head and stared at a point straight through his future self. "All Dialga did was transport us back in time, so it's safe to assume that I'm going to be dead no matter what."

Yan drew back at that, startling at what she'd just said and glancing at him. "I didn't mean to touch on it. It must be something sensitive, right?"

He shrugged in response. "Not really," he replied, trying to rectify the situation. "It's a little sad sometimes, knowing that no one else in this world will be able to see me, but I'm mostly fine with it."

They said nothing after that. The girl let out a small sigh, letting herself fall down on the bed's thick mattress and gazing up at the ceiling, and he could only fold his arms and stare at the ground in return.

Night fell too quickly after that.

§

The prince's room was cold.

It wasn't freezing, if he looked at it from an objective point of view, but there was a definite sense of metaphorical iciness in the dark room.

He watched as the boy sat by the window, hunched over a wooden table and thumbing through line after line of text. It was a repetitive action; all he would do was glance at the page for a few minutes, frowning at its content for a few moments after that before flipping to the next one.

Aiden couldn't quite get over the fact that he was watching some variation of himself. While he could see the similarities between the both of them, the prince looked at ease—like he had found something that strayed just out of his reach.

Do you live for yourself?

He wondered that as the boy kept a private smile to himself, turning the page with a practiced hand and glancing up at the moon hanging outside the window.

He snapped out of his thoughts when Regis spoke.

"Daphne?" Aiden jumped at that, wondering just who he was talking about and whether there was someone else in the dim room, but he managed to calm down as he realised that the prince was talking to the Litwick on his table.

"It must be late," he muttered, staring at his Pokemon with a concerned expression. "You can go to sleep if you want. You know I can use an oil lamp to study, right?"

If the creature said anything in return, he wouldn't have understood it—instead, he tried to grip the nearest thing, not caring that his hand slid right through the wood, and watched as the conversation between them continued on.

"Sometimes, I wonder if you enjoy being in that Litwick's body," Regis continued. "Wouldn't it feel different? Is it better than having remained dead? But I'll never get to hear it from you, right?"

The Litwick just stared back, a smile forming on the wax she was made out of and a contented look in her powder-blue eyes. It was a far cry from the usual sinister expression that the small Pokemon would wear—he found it unnerving that such a creature could carry such an innocent face.

"I think I've done enough today," the prince smiled, shutting the book and turning to the creature at the corner of his table. "I'm going to head to sleep now, OK? You should do the same; it isn't healthy for someone as young as you to stay up."

He chuckled as he said that. "Or are ghost-types accustomed to this?" he joked. "I love you, my little sister."

Aiden froze at that.

Little sister? He couldn't quite wrap his head around that. Of course, he knew that Litwick was a Pokemon that stole life force from others, but he'd never think it was possible for someone's soul to get sucked into another body without the help of reincarnation.

He couldn't help but ponder that question, and he moved a little closer to the table before trying to touch the Litwick. It wasn't possible; he was dead and felt nothing from the living world anymore, but he'd forgotten that the Pokemon carried the soul of a dead person and—

A gasp clogged the back of his throat. His hand jumped back on instinct, feeling the cold bite of the creature's blue flame burn—ironically—the tips of his fingers and fighting back the urge to stumble back a few steps.

As if having noticed him, the Litwick turned around, confusion in her dull eyes, and he could only stare back with a doubtful expression.

She gazed at him for several long moments before turning back around, and it was when the numbing feeling of frostbite replaced the phantom scalds he had gotten that he'd realised who Regis' sister was.

If he was the prince, then Yan was the princess.

§

Eek late update!! Sorry about that lmao,, idol hell and writer's block don't go well with insecurities and depressions about not being a good writer,, I've been trying to write it away, though! Hopefully it works~

lmao my favourite character at this point is still Aiden for some reason,, Avis and Fabio are close behind the cinnamon roll <3

Thank you guys so much for 2.6K reads and 417 votes!! :0 You have no idea how much this means to me <3

As always, votes, comments and critiques are very appreciated °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°