Opportunity

She said he'd just disappeared one morning, when they were returning from Chyra to the oasis. It had eaten him up inside, seeing his client's son during the rescue. The kid was roughed up, trembling, and had gone without food for a couple days, but had no serious injuries. Nothing could rouse him from his stupor before now, despite many increasingly desperate attempts. Until finally seeing his mother waiting for them there, his demeanor was unnervingly passive, as if his mind was still trapped in that place.

"If I could give you anything else—" The rescuer hears, placing a TM in his satchel, leaving it to rest among the other assorted items meant for 'just in case' scenarios more imagined than real. Ice fang. He couldn't even use it.

A raised paw interrupts her. "Job's already done. But don't be shy about spreading my name around."

"Yes, certainly!" She crouches down, wiping the sand from her son's windswept fur. He hadn't stopped clinging to her side since they'd arrived.

"You can always find me in the city." Still focused on her child, he wasn't sure she'd heard. Heading off, he caught her fading voice beginning to scold the kid, relief still evident in its tone.

Passing through the bazaar hardly brought the relaxation he sought. The swirling mass of pokemon going about their business impeded even the simple task of walking. Merchants accosted the world with their pitches, desperate for any modicum of attention. One practically assaulted him with a peculiar looking glass bottle, shouting something about its 'rejuvenating properties' being 'excellent' for his scales. He waved the pokemon off with a barely-thought-out excuse.

A building sat at the end. But for the two cypress trees contained in pots flanking the entrance, it hardly stood out from the rest of this place. Its bland face, built with cracked sandstone, held the only indication of its significance: a sign jutting out over the street reading 'Sunessi Inn: Food, Drink, and Relaxation.' He let out a breath he'd been holding in, free from the crowd's oppressive atmosphere and eager for what the sign promised.

The midday patrons sat, ate, and conversed in a moderately lively racket. Though what was then couldn't compare to an evening crowd, when the shop keeps and merchants of the oasis ceased their daily hunts of goods and money to service their other vices. He threw his equipment, a satchel and large backpack in all, into the holding area, giving the guard there a friendly nod of acknowledgement.

Scanning the floor once more for adequate seating revealed a sight no so usual. Sat talking to the cacturne barkeep was a short, orange-furred creature whose back sported two pale, elongated spots. The split tail and flotation sac were also dead giveaways: this patron was a buizel; a water type. Good seating now found, he quickly made his way to their space on the far end of the counter.

Closing the distance between him and the bar showed the two 'mons interaction to be less than a conversation. The larger one behind the counter appeared lecturing to the smaller, gesturing at various areas of the establishment while dictating whatever he thought needed said. His audience listened intently, head turned upward to his instructor or following the direction of a branch.

"Barkeep! How's about a tall glass of water and your freshest meat available?"

His interruption was punctuated with a hard slap to the counter. It's suddenness jolted the buizel from his concentration, recoiling in the opposite direction, flinching, and raising an arm out as cover against the unexpected noise to his left. The cacturne's reaction was to simply turn his head to the speaker.

The addressee paused, frowning for a moment before assuring the buizel that he'd return shortly. Said water type issued a one word reply, following the 'mon with his eyes until he disappeared behind a door. With the subject of his attention gone, his gaze turned to a half-empty cup of water sat on the bar. Nearby, a stool rocked with sudden weight, its occupier studying him for a moment. The patron's fur was matted in places and sticking out in others. Sand was caked into his noticeably skinny body's coat and his air sac discolored with what may have been sunburn. The central corners of his tired eyes were blackened with discharge. Even as he was inspected, no effort was made to acknowledge the newly arrived stranger's existence.

"Y'know, it's no fun eating alone here. What would you say to me getting you some—"

He was almost startled when the target of his suggestion turned sharply to face him, broken out of his trance.

"'Suppose that's a yes, huh?" the stranger said. He flashed a smile that would've been award winning hadn't there been so many teeth.

At that, his companion reverted to his previous aloof state, but gave a nod of approval.

"So what's got a type like you at a place like this?" He wasn't given much to go off of that wouldn't be considered prying.

The reply came prefaced with a short, humorless snort. "I uh... was trying to get work here. The manager, or owner, whatever, was just explaining this place to me." The buizel's voice was soft and shaky, sometimes almost hoarse.

"Here, really?"

His listener grew more attentive.

"Couldn't have picked a worse place."

The buizel opened his mouth to reply, but was silenced by the return of the barkeep with a glass of water and a plate of salt-preserved meat. "Here." he said gruffly, "Now if I could get you a seat elsewhere; we were..." As he gestured to the water type, he was cut off once again.

"Oh, could I get you to double this order? Our friend here needs to eat too." The barkeep tightened his brow hearing this, while glancing over to said friend. Beginning to walk off, a final "And prepare me a booth for later!" was shouted at his direction.

Additional company dismissed, the plate of food was pushed over to the other pokemon by the one just served. "I can wait."

The buizel looked to the meat before lifting his arms and shifting his gaze to the paws attached. What followed was an awkward display of fumbling the food into an unsteady grip between both his paws, then ripping a single bite off its mass. On top of generally appearing to not know what he was doing, his arms were shaking a terrible degree.

"Well, no reason to stay strangers. I'm Dylus." He stuck his paw out to the water type, quickly maneuvering it into a salute when he realized the other's arms were still occupied. The meal was returned to its plate in a manner almost as clumsy as it was taken off.

"...Elias" came a reply after the ordeal was over. That formality out of the way, Elias resumed consuming his food. Still no improvements were shown in technique.

"So, Elias" Dylus continued, "I think you'd find better luck elsewhere, unless you know how to defend yourself, like me." He leaned in close over the other's face, smiling confidently, and pointing a thumb to his own chest. "Trading outposts make for excellent targets, you know."

The reply was a blank stare and chewing mouth.

"They're vulnerable to raiders" Dylus stated plainly.

Elias swallowed. "O-oh."

Elias' expression remained static at this foreboding implication. However, he did begin to look around the room, as if among the patrons bandits hid, poised to strike if not for his vigilance. Dylus watched as the words presumably sunk into the buizel's mind. Elias returned to the present interaction when he took sufficient note of the surroundings.

Placing his meal down, he reached for the water next to it, and clumsily drank the rest of the liquid. He looked barely up to the task. Attempting, slowly, to set the now fully empty cup back, Elias slipped one of his paws, sending the glass rolling off and shattering on the floor behind the bar. The sound was loud, but the restaurant's murmur mostly overpowered it. The buizel let out a frustrated sigh before looking up again to see the barkeep returning with the order. His posture tightened in his seat as the cacturne approached, but Dylus pushed his own glass near the anxious 'mon just as the corner to the back side of the counter was rounded.

"Look out on the floor! I may have had a bit of an accident with my water" he said.

The largest of them behind the bar half-scoffed, half-growled being told this, but diffused his anger with an exhale. "Room's ready. You can take your food but do not have any more 'accidents'. You'll have to pay replacement costs for the cushions and they do not come cheap." He continued to stare intently at him after speaking. Dylus nodded.

He looked back to Elias. "I'll be in the pipe booths. Why don't you join me after you finish up here?" Receiving a nod of his own, he began to walk off, plate in paw. Now in conversation again, Elias' quiet voice was the first to fade from earshot.

The rather modest sandstone façade masked the building's main attraction. Adjoining the bar and restaurant was a collection of booths, arranged consecutively under an intricately patterned wooden peristyle, mercifully guarding guests from the overbearing Sun. An open courtyard decorated the center, water traveling up and through a system of trenches crowned by a fountain. Verdant green plants accented the flowing centerpiece, reminders of life in a place otherwise barren. Dylus' booth was indicated by an erasable chalkboard bearing the words: 'Reserved For: Korkorok.' He made for a velvet cushioned couch sat next to a small table inside. Placing his food there and laying reclined on the couch, he grabbed the mouthpiece of the water pipe centered in the room. A couple puffs later, he relaxed, keeping his eyes on the courtyard entryway.

Several minutes passed and the meal consumed, Dylus spotted an orange shape meander into his vision's periphery. It materialized into a buizel as he focused on it. Elias at first wandered around, searching, before stopping suddenly to look at the central fountain. He approached it to peer at its water-filled flat bed. Some time was spent there, staring, then making an effort to smooth out the ruffled spots of fur on his head. Dylus rose and walked into the booth's entrance, calling Elias over to him. The one at the fountain splashed water on himself before shifting focus from it to Dylus, but lingered there a while after. He touched his newly wet face, attention grabbed by some seemingly invisible force. Whatever it was faded quickly.

"It's a good thing, you seeking out info before making decisions you'd regret."

Dylus regained his spot on the couch, mouthpiece back in hand, and patted a spot on the other end for Elias to sit. He did so, arms wrapped around his own torso. The krokorok offered him a puff, which his guest rebuffed with only a shake of the head. He let out a chuckle and muttered an 'alright.'

"Because of the raiders?" Elias asked, picking on a damaged part of the upholstery.

"Sure, but they're not the only issue. This is a trading settlement. Everyone here's out to get money, anyway they can."

Elias was looking at him now.

"And don't take this the wrong way, but you look like an easy target. Whatever that barkeep's offering you, no way is it what you deserve." His last point was punctuated with a horizontal wave of his paw, paired with a return to his previous lax position. Silence was left to linger a bit, as Dylus took another long drag.

"And what else would I do?" He sounded exhausted.

"Oh, don't get too down on yourself, there's plenty to be done! Not here, but..." Dylus paused, looking away in apparent consideration. "I'm leaving today for the city. It's where I mainly work out of. You could join me."

"The city."

After pausing for a moment, Dylus said, "Yeah... the city, Chyra."

He received a small nod in return.

"There, you'd be spoilt for choice: way more opportunity than this nowhere."

Elias was back to picking the seat. "You also said everyone in this place was looking for profit. Why'd they look here if it's a 'nowhere'?"

"They only stay here long enough to screw over some suckers, then they're out."

"Not all. I'd still be out there in the desert if it weren't for one of them." Elias rebutted.

Dylus sat up. "Look, you can stay here if you think you can make it. I was just offering some friendly advice to someone I thought needed it."

Dylus occupied himself with the pipe, taking another drag. He blew the smoke out into the air between them. It dissipated rapidly as he went in for another puff. Elias seemed more interested in the room around them. Neither looked to each other.

"Are you leaving today?" Elias was the one to banish the quiet again.

"Right after I'm done here."

"So what do you do out in the city; for work, I mean."

"I do rescue jobs, mostly. Not with the federation, though. Too controlling."

Elias busied himself with analyzing the booth while Dylus talked.

"Very few of them have me venture too far out the city. Expenses are usually low thanks to that, but I don't mind going out every once in a while. It shakes things up; gives me time to think on the road."

Elias voiced his disdain at the last sentence with a huff. "Yeah, the road does give you time to think. And the Sun time to burn you and sandy wind time to scratch you and your throat time to dry and your... hair." His complaining lost steam as it trailed on. He looked to Dylus with an awkward smile.

"Sorry."

He was met with an amused one. "Ha! …ah, don't worry about it; I've been there. Well, the dehydration, at least. My scales weather the elements pretty well." He extended one arm while gliding a paw down it. Elias watched his show-off with interest matching his earlier survey of the booth's carved wood.

"But I supply my expeditions better now: 'haven't been met with trouble on that front for a while." Dylus returned his gaze to his guest, who had begun to examine his own arms. He seemed to pay particular attention to the fins on them. "We don't get too many like you out here; water types. There's always some at the port in Chyra, but its a rare sight inland." He paused before continuing, Elias still focused on his fin.

"Miss the Water?"

The addressee's head snapped back up quickly. "Huh? Oh, I... don't know. I do like swimming, I guess, but I haven't done it in a while."

"Really? You 'guess' you like swimming? A water type? A buizel?" He began a hearty laugh before he noticed Elias shrink in on himself. He cleared his throat. "So, you been around the oasis much?"

Elias relaxed to his normal level of discomfort. "Not really. When you came into the restaurant, I'd been here for maybe a couple hours."

"How about I show you around the area, then? I think I've got my money's worth of this pipe anyway." Dylus made it to the booth's exit, then turned back to Elias, still sitting down. His eyes had followed him, though his body hadn't. Dylus nodded in the exit's direction, signaling for him to follow. He rose with a meek 'sure' and began to walk behind him.

The guard searched through the holding area as they both came up to him. Dylus' satchel and pack were returned, while Elias was handed a white cloth tied into a sack. It looked to have little inside. As with his food, his paws were struggling to find good purchase, and he eventually settled for carrying the sack between his arms and torso. Dylus offered to carry them, but was refused.

He half-paid attention to Elias' fumbling as they made their way back to the counter, movement complicating the task of carrying his things even more. Arriving there, Dylus took a purse out his satchel, removed a portion of the money, and placed it on the counter. The cacturne barkeep nodded at him, and turned to his side.

"Elias, see you tomorrow?"

Elias hesitated before answering. "Yeah, see you then." The cacturne stared for a moment more, leaning with one branch on the bar, then returned to his work.

Dylus started for the entrance, but let Elias go before him. Rather than focus on the door they were walking toward, he seemed supremely interested in the patrons they were walking past. Odd, as none looked particularly noteworthy. A few turned their heads to look back when they noticed the stranger staring. Some were already staring. They reached the exit before long.

The entire town was nearly circular, forming three rings by the buildings and road in between them. The oasis stood behind them and the building they'd just exited, and with an areal view it would appear as the town were emanating from the water itself. The concentric rings were broken by a section of the shore which remained bereft of development, saving the oasis from complete obscurity from view outside the town.

Gently nudging Elias with his elbow, Dylus pointed out the bazaar. "Been there yet? Or do you want to start somewhere else?"

When he received no immediate answer, he began to gesture to the other parts of the oasis.

"The bazaar's got the most attractions, but over there's the residences. Not much to them: just houses. And over there's where most of the services are: Flygon mail, rescue postings, that sort of thing. Beyond that's a couple more houses, but they're the 'well off' ones. They tend to be guarded and don't much like strangers loitering near."

"Since we're right next to the bazaar, maybe we should start there." Elias said. "I can't buy anything, though."

Dylus scoffed. "Don't worry about that. We're just here to look; plus it's not like they need our money."

The cacophony of voices grew louder as the bazaar grew closer. Only the words of the merchants nearest the end could be deciphered: one advertising his patterned rugs, another, a smeargle, his pigments and dyes. Customers and traders flowed to and fro between the parallel rows of tents and stands, carrying their own goods, nearly drowning out the pitches from the stands, as they traded and talked among themselves. More than a few seemed to be arguing with the owners of the stalls, angrily haggling over prices and the exchange of goods.

Dylus led the charge through the thronging mass, shouting over them, "If you see any you like, we can check it out!" His pace had picked up considerably.

Elias kept his eyes focused on the outer rim of the stalls while trying to keep up with the speeding krokorok. He stopped when a glint caught his eye, reaching toward his guide. An outstretched arm signaled the direction of his curiosity, mouth moving but voice not quite matching the the volume of the crowd. Dylus looked to the tent, then began toward it without another word.

Its mats were laden with luxurious accessories and gleaming jewelry. Gemstones of many kinds called attention to themselves with sunlight reflected off their surfaces. A small, long, and glass-lidded box centered on the main rug held a collection of vibrant stones embossed with symbols. An eager machop looked to Dylus from underneath the tent's center, standing and picking up a large gold ring as they approached.

"You, sir, need an accessory such as this! It speaks of wealth, of power! Its golden shine on your scales would—"

The merchant's tirade was cut short by a dismissive wave of Dylus' paw and an annoyedly said "Hold it." The merchant stopped, confused. "He's the one wanting to see you."

Elias came to stand at the front, hearing an exasperated "Yes, of course." The machoke evaluated the buizel, furrowing his brow. Eyes tracked to the small, white bundle tucked under his arm. He grabbed an item from a table.

"Well, for one such as you, I'd say this lovely comb would do wonders!" he said, "A smooth coat is essential for... anything!"

Strong pitch seeming concluded, Dylus gave a tongue click in response. For his part, Elias looked unfazed by the condescension, noticing instead a collection of simple-patterned cloths accompanied with black circlets.

"Are those scarves, back there?"

"These" the artificially cheery tone he greeted Dylus with was back in full force, "Are nearly anything you wish!" He manipulated the cloth, shaping it around his neck "They can be scarves, but also masks...", then covering his face "hats...", then bunched on his head, "or headdresses!" It was unfolded and the circlet fitted on his head, keeping it in place. The now loose ends draped over the 'mon's shoulders, covering his head and upper back.

"They have great utility, too, shielding you from the harsh Sun and tearing desert winds!"

Elias looked long at the product. His sunburned neck was itching and matted fur uncomfortably pulling on his head. He hugged his white sack closer to his body and wrapped his other arm around it as well. The gems sat previously on the mat before him had been moved to make room for the merchant to demonstrate his wares to the pair. They'd lost their luster being shoved into the shadow cast by the tent's roof.

"I can get that for you. For free." Dylus said, a sense of finality in his tone.

Elias' attention remained fixed on him in that instant. Krokoroks aren't the largest pokemon around, but this one stood firm with arms crossed, glaring, a paw impatiently tapping, and an almost superior expression. Though all aimed at the merchant, it still made Elias feel small. Dylus seemed tall then, certainly taller than the buizel. The trader gave pause, shifting his stance as he looked in between the two. His smile had dropped only to pick back up soon after.

"Choose any one you like! They come in beautiful and unique patterns, woven specially by my artisan suppliers!" he said.

While Elias inspected the merchandise, Dylus quickly rummaged through his pack, pulling out a cloth and circlet of his own. "Here. No need to waste any poke on him, Elias."

He turned to look at the accessory in the krokorok's paw. The band was solid black and bore the marks of having been folded in on itself for a long while. The cloth was heavily wrinkled, but pure white with the exception of a gold stripe running near its rim. Dylus held the items out to him, to which he took them.

The merchant dropped his goods as suddenly as his act. "If you wish to only waste my time, then get away from my stand!" he yelled at the both of them. The krokorok obliged easily, waving for Elias to follow. He caught up quickly.

"Ass." Dylus said.

"Did you know him? What was that?"

Dylus' arms were placed rigidly at his sides as they made their way back through the crowd. "I know him. They talk up big opportunities to draw you in, speak fast and confidently, then after it's all over, will have roped you into a deal not even you're sure you agreed to."

They were almost out the crowd now.