âLand ho!â Called the shrill voice of a Cloyster stationed in the crowâs nest.
The immense vessel of ice, fashioned after old human vessels, carried with it the majority of Weyloranâs clan, with many smaller, similarly constructed vessels carrying the rest. Compared to other tribes of the ocean, Weyloranâs was comparatively smaller. However, they made up for numbers in sheer ability with their water and ice. Among their fellow Cloyster, they were indeed peerless in strength. Their tiny fleet was more formidable than their numbers implied.
Due to a certain Magnetonâs prowess, the clan- of course- hated North. They loathed North almost as much as they hated Suros. However, they did not hold type-advantages against people. Make no mistake, they are still quite dangerous compared to other wildlings, and possibly just as powerful as the larger clans.
The ships rapidly melted as the Cloysters and Shellder ceased pumping their inherent cold into maintaining them. In the constant beat of the sun, the ships rapidly split and fell into chunks, splashing against the warm ocean surface and floating away, dwindling into nothingness. The many Cloyster and Shellder did not share the same fate. They had submerged underwater, patiently waiting, as Weyloran hovered out of the water and approached the shores.
All around her, the remains of metallic structures lay scattered about. A large tower loomed over to her right, battered and dented from the sheer force of many a blast of tonnes upon tonnes of water. At itâs base, a broken, utterly ruined twin-pronged cannon lay pathetically, half-buried in sand, and getting more and more submerged as the tides shifted the sands. Weyloran had not scene the like of these structures before, but she could tell they were human-made. Not even Doc Holiday could fabricate things this flawless, dents aside.
In front of Weyloran, sands shifted in a small circle. The Cloysterâs eyes narrowed as it readied itself for a potential attack. However, no attack came. Instead, the circular head of an Alolan Sandshrew popped out from the surface.
âSup, dude?â The Sandshrew chimed.
âHello,â Weyloran said.
âDude, are you Weyloran?â The Sandshrew asked, his eyes began to gleam with exitement.
âYes.â
âAlright!â The sandshrew threw itself out of the ground. âTao didnât think the Lord-Regent would pull through! That Swinub owes me two Oran berries!â
Weyloran regarded the sandshrew with befuddlement. Before she could voice her confusion, the Sandshrew continued, âAbsoluteâs been busy keeping the island safe from the Regicide Crew. Otherwise sheâd have come herself.â
Weyloran glanced at the destroyed tower. âSeems to me your leader has done quite a lot to keep this island safe.â
âOh, you got the Lord-Regent to thank for that!â The Sandshrew spoke not unlike a child, âCome on, this way!â
Weyloran followed the Sandshrew through the jungles. The Cloyster noticed the trees and foliage had missing leaves, but appeared to be healthier than ever- like an immense flood had burst through, ridding the jungles from the weak and the corrupted. She imagined given a few weeks, the jungle would be huge, bold, and greener than ever before. The ground was immensely damp, with deep puddles and mud wherever there wasnât grass or bush. The Sandshrew avoided the hazards by bounding and climbing between the many trees, while Weyloran simply hovered on through, careful not to nick any of the trees with her spikes.
They arrived at the land cavern entrance. Far above and around the large rocky outcrop, Weyloran spotted a large hole, no-doubt large enough for two Articuno to fly through side-by-side. With polite, if child-like encouragement, Weyloran followed the Sandshrew through the tunnels.
âHold,â a Crabominable croaked as the two of them approached a cave entrance deep in the winding tunnels.
âItâs Sandy,â The Sandshrew squeaked. Weyloran tried not to make a face in response to the rather unimaginative name. âThis is Weyloran the Cloyster.â
âAh, come on through,â the Crabominableâs immense fists swept gracefully towards the door as itâs tiny legs moved it aside for them to pass.
Weyloran and Sandy entered the immense underground cave home of Absolute and the other islanders. The huge frozen lake was still smooth as a perfect mirror, with no flaws to speak of, even though many an ice-type skated atop it.
Sandy gestured Weyloran towards the Articuno, who was skating with her fellows. The two of them approached.
âAh, Sandy, thank you,â Absolute spoke with a chilled, yet unkind voice.
Sandy bounded off away from the two, where he called to a nearby Swinub. âI told you dude! I told you the kid could do it!â The Swinub swore and handed Sandy a couple of Oran berries.
Absolute, however, had drowned out the Swinubâs voice from Weyloranâs perspective. âHas the Lord-Regent told you why I wanted to speak with you?â
âNot exactly,â Weyloran replied, âWhat do you want?â Weyloran wanted to cut to the chase. It was times like these when she could take her mind away from the pain of her loss. Business was business.
Absoluteâs piercing blue eyes rested on Weyloranâs for a moment. âYou didnât kill him, did you?â She asked slowly.
âI wanted his pet bird dead, but no blood was shed, I promise.â
âPet bird? Oh⊠Oh, I see.â Her eyes beamed with understanding.
âSo what do you want from me and mine?â
Absolute nodded brusquely as she regained her composure. She went on to explain the Regicide Crew, and how they threaten the Ice Cave among other Pokemon communities across the world oceans.
âIn short, We would like to join forces.â
âIf I were to do this, to have my kin join and possibly die, what sort of compensation would they be expecting?â
âBesides a safe ocean?â
âI mean a dead Slayer.â
Absolute blinked. âWe canât do that.â
âWhy not?â
âThe boy is a friend to us, and the boy is a friend to Suros.â
âWhat do you owe the boy?â
âThis island, our lives.â
âSo youâve been saved by this so-called Lord-Regent. Next, youâll be saying this human child is a friend to the Seven Clans of the Floor.â
âFunny you mention thatâŠâ
â
âWhat news?â One of the Honour guard called as Weyloran arrived on the shores.
âWe return home,â Weyloran replied, âWe keep ourselves strong, and we have some new friends.â
âWhat of the Slayer?â
âOur friends come at the cost of a new goal. After that new goalâŠâ Weyloran grinned as most Cloyster do, âI imagine after this new goal, not even that Aegislash could protect her.â
âAnd the Gangster?â
Weyloran recalled the offer that one Bisharp communicated for that Zoroark, âWhen you hate something as much as I do, sometimes the only thing to do is to love and make new friends, friends who wonât stop you, friends who may actually support you. This Lord-Regent has gathered influence; itâs high time we gather some of our own.