prologue: barren is the river . zaire

[fernando silph]

sand. sand is the only thing that composes their limited line of sight. the billowing winds are harsh. it pelts the soft of their skin with arid cuts, nicking them until their ashy in blood. it means little difference to the driver who refuses to conform to the appropriate attire. goggles will be the only compromise he'll make, all too used to the sand-stream of his reptilian pokemon. their dune buggy shows little trouble with traversing the dunes. it'll lurch every so often, but only when they cross a steep dip. the driver has no problem in navigating through the dust storm. it's the spotter, their eyes and only means of finding their cargo, that might prove maddening. he doesn't dare distract her. only the insecure dare to ask what they already know. and, if it wasn't obvious as is, fernando knows exactly what anna sees. sand. ANNA GULLY

[ANNA GULLY]

Sigh. Sigh. This is impossible. Why they chose to cross the desert she would never understand. She stopped questioning things after the Marko incident. 'Just trust me'. Fine, fine. If trust is what he wanted, unwavering loyalty and devotion-- admiration? Tch, don't be childish-- is what he would get. Even if it did come at the expense of her own sanity. Thankfully she had plenty to spare, something Anna took pride in. "This is worse than the Alpa Chino mission, sir." How very formal, Anna. Perhaps it's just the mood, or heat exhaustion. Anyone could be listening, anything could be tagged-- could they be tracked?It's her job to be wary, her job to be a second set of eyes, albeit flawed. Even the strongest prescription would fail to bring her to the young master's level. She couldn't say she remembered the previous desert mission fondly-- blinding sand had infiltrated her vision, taking command until she unintentionally discovered the caverns they had been searching oh so tirelessly for. And by they, she should say herself and a pokemon companion. Hidden scrolls, hidden temples-- of course she would be given the dirty work. It was her job, after all. A sprained ankle and burned skin would be the least her worries. Had it not been for the raging storm and the cushioned fall sand she would have surely been excused. These details may have been excluded from the official report. Unfortunately, Fernando always had his way of knowing. A futile attempt to read the map allows another heavy, frustrated grunt to make it's way from her lips, lost in the desert wind. "Please don't take any offense sir, but if you would be so kind as to remind me why we decided to take this route..."

[fernando silph]

whose fault is that? words are thought, never spoken. the master may have no qualms with deflating his servant's false assessment but there's no need to. allowing her to vent her frustrations about her own ineptitude is a treat in itself. anything is better than to hear her passive aggressive mouthing off about her own self deprecation. crying over spilt milk only adds to the sopping mess. "if you have an alternative, gully, please do tell." in response their velocity spikes by the derivative of fernando annoyance by their time spent over the square of anna's usefulness. whether or not that's an increase, neither can sense to change in g-force. the only thing they can notice, beside the unrelenting sand, is the sun's beaming. as if to mock them, it shines with an uncanny illustriousness that renders fernando momentarily blind as they cross over another dune. a jolt forces him upright upon landing. deploy the brakes as he may, it doesn't stop their vehicle from spurring out of control. the sand provides no friction. they're sent in a crazed whirl. physics, over the course of time, brings them to an eventual stop. he doesn't ask if she's okay. if she isn't, he's sure to hear it. ANNA GULLY

[ANNA GULLY]

"The route under the city." Yes, it would have taken longer, but at least they would be spared resources. She can't help but think that it would have been a fair trade-- Anna doesn't need to say any of that though, she already knows Fernando has his reasons. Time is money, of course. She's looking down when the vehicle takes its tumble. Slender fingers grasp onto her map, the other hand grabbing a hold of the handle on the door. She feels her neck pop as the buggy rolls- the only emotion it illicits is an annoyed grunt, which would make itself known once they had stabilized. "Commendable driving." The hint of sarcasm would only be noticed by Fernando-- surely he's used to it by now. Her now free hand finds the spot on her neck, she applies pressure in hopes that it will alleviate the pain that prevents her from craning her head. With a frustrated sigh she gives up on the spot, instead running her fingers over a small, red bump on the side of her forehead. Truly, truly magnificent. Fucking whiplash. She can't help but feel a bitter smile tug at the corner of her lips-- to anyone else, these two were just some stupid, adventuring couple, trying to discover the world. The way she argued with him, the way he disregarded her opinion in favor for his own- if it wasn't so serious she would have considered it comedic. "Though I'll admit that was much nicer than the mountain slide in Johto." It's idle talk, something to fill the-- well. It's not silent with the whir of the sand and the scream of the wind. Her voice carries away, but not before it reaches her superior.

[fernando silph]

negative. the route has long been entombed. it's a miracle that such an archaeological treaure has preserved for so long. no matter, time has worn thin with leniency. the resort is reduced to a meager two floors, nothing to write home about. without proper resources - money to uncover and the hands to do so - the ruins are all but lost. "feel free to take the wheel, gully. i've been meaning to buy a new one anyway." sarcasm is met with a reminder of past failures. as hazardous as his driving may be their vehicle is still intact. the same cannot be said for the last car fernando allowed anna to drive. "just about everything is nicer than the mountain slide. lest you forget what should've been a two day trek back to mahogany--" the enginge sputters alive at the reeling pull cord. "--took a week since i had to carry your limping self." ANNA GULLY

[ANNA GULLY]

She falls silent, realizing the error of speaking out against him. Not only will she suffer painful reminders of past events she wouldn't wish to remember, but Fernando gains full to feed a fire that will be continually growing for the rest of her life. Thin lips press together-- it's her way of pouting, scowling. She doesn't look at him, though her shoulders remain high, poised, professional. Remember your place, Anna. She takes a breath, eyes squinting into the desert. She takes his response in stride, not proud, but no longer obsessed with correcting something she cannot fix. The sharp reminder is lost to the desert, mixed with the sand. Which will never happen again. Anna can try to convince herself the situation has only made her stronger, but if she were to be honest, being carried through the mountains was only a deeper gash into her already feeble pride. "I appreciate the offer, but I am afraid I will have to decline." Only he could have noticed the subtle twitch of her shoulders-- an indication she fully remembered their previous vehicle, as well as her broken ankle. Anna refrains from allowing the scowl to distort her face. "You insisted." Is her only form of defense. She knows that she is the one at fault, as she was trained to be. For an excruciatingly slow learner, Fernando had been more than patient with a young Anna. He had his years to falter, as would any teenage male, but despite the raging hormones the young Silph had always managed to teach her, one way or another. His methods were a warm welcome than her previous teacher-- the one from before the war. The quick-to-anger bear of a woman who showed no mercy for wrong answers and incorrect form. Anna's chest still bore the scar of a failed test, presumably critical to what she had been learning. A few stitches and a permanent reminder and Anna Gully was good as new, ready to take on the world for a second time. She is only grateful that her new master has yet to find the mark. Perhaps that's why the original thought of being taught by a man terrified her. If the power of one woman was so strong, what would the power of the rich Fernando be? Patience, frustration, and copious amounts of sarcasm, apparently. "According to my calculations making it before sundown has a... 17% chance." She spouts, waiting for the command to begin the next set of predictions for how much time will be lost with stopping, eating, and resting. She was already aware that the chances of getting more than four hours of rest (including watch duty) was slim to none, especially when he was in such a rush. "How determined are you to arrive by nightfall?"

[fernando silph]

insisted? commanded, really. fernando sneers at the memory which, given time, he seems much fonder of now. it's the only time he allows a meek smile to cross his features, if only to spite her. despite his sterness about failure he coudln't find the heart to reprimand her between the wild guffaws that almost threatened to choke him. observing the engine succumb to flames was matched only by the initial prospects of letting her, a woman, drive. "we'll make it by nightfall--" the engine buffers his comment, each loud grumble cutting off each series of words from flowing in a fluid remark. it helps loosen the premise of his jib while turning his punchline into the coldest steel. "even if i have to carry you." they cannot stop. they will not stop. what with the war coming down full swing, they have no choice but to execute his decade long plan with disregards to outside circumstances. and, anna's incompetence will be the last thing fernando will allow put a hamper on his end game. ANNA GULLY

[ANNA GULLY]

'Get on my shoulders' 'No' 'Gully.' A pout? 'Gully.' As always, Anna eventually complied. It wasn't the idea of being slung around like a piece of meat that bothered her, it was more so that she knew she was delaying his action-- as always. Incompetent as ever. It drove her insane, but she's never managed to fix it. She can't help but glance at her driver, catching the subtle change in expression-- she feels her cheeks flush despite the desert sun. Her shame fades with his words, they serve as a decent distraction. Oh. Is that a headache coming on? Did the sun just get brighter? Wind louder? No, that was just the sound of Fernando's stubborn attitude inflating. Her expression doesn't falter. "As per usual. I would expect nothing less." She doesn't answer his sharp tongue. She doesn't have to, he already knows how she feels about it. "One of these days I'm going to have to carry you," she jests, fully knowing there's not even a possibility of Fernando relying on her. "So--" Her voice trails off as she remembers the mission as a whole. Not a pleasant task, nor an easy one. She's dead weight. "Why did you bring me?"

[fernando silph]

maybe, when i'm dead. the reply crosses his mind but he never voices it. he can't. he knows how anna works: what irks her, discourages her, and eat her up inside. she won't take the answer in stride. it'll prod deeper than just sharp banter, eating at her self esteem until she spirals into a low circle jerk of self depreciation. try as she might, she cannot bottle it. her tell is much too obvious. alas, it's a good quip, one that fernando can only mentally acknowledge with a rictus grin. "the same reason i always so." his answer is all but straightforward. he leaves it to anna to interpret it. ANNA GULLY

[ANNA GULLY]

His answer proves to be anything but helpful. She's left to decipher his riddle-- again. She frowns, taking the moment to consider. Another body? Training? Perhaps she'll find the answer one day. Today is not that day. A feeling gnaws at her stomach. It has been for days. "I got a letter." Would he even care? Would Fernando dare concern himself with the well-being of Anna Gully? Of course he would. To an extent. He could carry her back home but he couldn't make her fly. Maybe it was him that set it up all along. She glances at him, but only for a moment. "Front lines." It comes out as a whisper, words determined to not be heard, so she might drop the topic. A feeble attempt to take back what she wanted to bring up in the first place. What could he say? Nothing. He never said anything. The only answer she expected was silence, the only mission she should have her mind on is his. Her own will not be of concern until that day comes. "Did you-" get it too? Pause. "Are you--" going to come with me? Are you going to leave me all alone? How can I expect to survive without you? You're the only thing I have to live for. "North for another 25 miles."

[fernando silph]

"i know." his murmur speaks nothing but indifference. he leaves his thoughts, much like his answers, up to interpretation. it is the only way anna will learn. not because she is an idiot, which she arguably is, but because fernando is not a suitable instructor. he is a peak she aspires to mount which means he can only teach by example. it's not like fernando hasn't tried other methods, it's just the discrepancy in both her education and thought pattern leaves her unfounded in the same manner fernando was taught. "i don't know." she doesn't have to conclude her question. "i don't know." he already knows. anna cannot keep herself steady even if her life depended on it. she lays herself open like a book, each page thumping in accordance to her heart. it makes her easy to read, easy to predict. it probably still haunts her how easy fernando can answer her before she even asks him. all because he's literate-- too literate. the words of his book are stark and plain, void of any colorful imagery. the only difference is that fernando aptly writes his prose to mean a means of things. only he knows his true intentions. "fifteen minutes." ANNA GULLY

[ANNA GULLY]

Shamed again. Why bother to open your mouth, Anna? She falls silent in her seat. Of course he wouldn't care. No-- that's not what it was. Fernando never took off his mask- if it was a mask. She feels a tug at her stomach, the familiar feeling of failure. She would receive no pity here. Anna has learned to take it in stride despite his constant dis-- who was she kidding? Every word that came out of his mouth tore her up. Over. And over. And over. For a moment her blood boils but the thought of rebellion never crosses her mind. She asked for this, didn't she? Would it be easy to walk away? No. It would only paint a target on her back. As if Fernando would actually allow her to exist if she did not exist to server him. Her face is emotionless, her silence screams. He must be used to this. Anna figures he can feel her defiance from miles away. She knows better. Anna swallows what little pride she has left-- Why are you so stupid? What? You fail to understand anything. You're a failure. What good do you think you bring? I-- Absolutely nothing. You're trash. He only keeps you because he can't bear to watch you slip and kill yourself. It's inevitable, after all. No, that's not it at a-- Stop lying to yourself. Stress begins to catch up to her. War? Fear? She feels her body wretch, feels her fist grasp their only source of navigation. Her throat is dry. Her limbs shake, stir, revolt against her will. As if she had one. Anna is left to stare at her feet while she recovers, eventually leaning back to meet the seat once more. Heavy breathing was never so quiet. She's humiliated. All she can do is endlessly analyze what's in front of her. With one final breath she manages to grab her broken pieces and glue them back together. "Ten."