New Story: Another Day At Unity (Patreon)

Lyra wasn't sure where she came from.

The same could be said for dozens, maybe hundreds of other kids in the service to the Great Families. To serve in such an important role meant conforming to the expectations of the ones who ran the world. It meant accepting whatever they did to you, and keeping your mouth closed for the privilege.

Most friends she made in noble service had a very similar story: families owed a debt, so great that it seemed they could never escape it. Maybe their harvest failed, or they needed a little medicine when a plague swept through. It looked like they were doomed, except—miracle!

They could go back to living their lives, forget the burden and forgive the debt, if only they would part with a child. Those chosen might be boys or girls, they might be smart or dumb or pretty or ugly. But they had one thing in common—they were never settled. Daemons meant something to the Great Families they didn't to anyone else. The longer she spent with them, the more confident she became.

It was obvious in the way they acted with their recruits.

Most who entered the service of Victini House only lasted a few years. They would spend their days with her, sweeping floors or cleaning rooms or delivering messages—until they got old enough to settle. One day their daemons would change, and the next they would vanish from the staff forever. Off to serve in whatever office their daemon permitted, according to the steward.

But no one knew for sure. No one had ever seen one of these kids after they settled. Maybe the noble family burned them, like they did to their dead.

Lyra had watched this process a hundred times over the years. When she was newer, every friend filled her with excitement, for all the little adventures they could have when their duties were done and Victini House was in order.

But one by one, almost everyone left in time. They settled, and they were gone.

She never did. Years turned to decades and more, and she was still there, serving in the household. She served so long that she no longer remembered the day she had first arrived, or why they brought her there.

She wasn't completely alone, of course. Like all the servants, she had her daemon to keep her company, Vel. He was her comrade in all things—serving in her duties, going on adventures, and getting into trouble.

Most importantly, they both had the same collar, worn around the neck at all times. Hers had no locks or joints, a single solid piece she dutifully washed each day but otherwise never touched. His was more complex—a chain that grew tighter and looser as he changed, fitting to his form. If he tried to become something too big, it would choke him in his transformation, and keep them trapped.

Nothing physical kept the collar on Vel if he took a form that was too small—except that her collar would instantly grow hot, as though remembering the terrible magic the Victini House had used to seal it in the first place. He had to manually adjust it to always hold it close, or else his human would suffer the consequences.

Since human and daemon shared every sensation, that was not a mistake they were likely to repeat.

Besides, they weren't meant to be ostentatious. Both were exceptionally thin, made of silvery metal. At the center was a little stone, set so a flat end would gently touch against the skin. Beside the stone were some symbols neither of them could read—the language of an old tongue, known only to the Great Families and their chosen. Servant girls weren't expected to remember such things.

There were only a handful of other servants with collars like hers, and Lyra knew them all. They were the only constants in her world, aside from the noble family themselves. While others came and went—some quietly, others with screams and flame—those marked by the collar remained.

They weren't ever friends, exactly. Staying in one place for so long did strange things to the way they thought. How could they not, watching other kids come and grow and leave again, while they remained the same?

"We could run away," she whispered to Don one night, lying on the roof of the main house. They often came up there on their day off, to hide in the shade and watch the sunset when it got dark. The steward rarely looked for them there, so couldn’t take away their day off to make them help with unexpected chores. "Far from here. Another region, like... Sinnoh! Somewhere Victini could never find us."

Vel nodded along with her. Daemons rarely spoke directly to anyone but their human. But working with the same humans for so long had a way of making them more comfortable with each other. "Could fly there. Maybe copy Valiant. All this time looking at her, I can do it! Fly out of here, and..."

"And where?" Don interrupted. He nudged Lyra's collar with one hand, expression dark. "No matter where we go, everyone will know what that means. They'll send us back here to be punished." He shuddered as he said it, pulling his arms around his own daemon, an obedient minccino. The same form they were expected to take while they were on duty, to keep them compliant and focused on whatever task they were given.

Lyra wasn't on duty now, though, so Vel had a form she liked better. As a furret, he was almost as big as she was, and with even greater flexibility to help her access places she wasn't ordinarily meant to be. And on a cold night like this, all that warm fur gave her something to lay against and keep her from shivering.

"We could take them off," she suggested. "Once we get out, I mean. Then they wouldn't know who we were, and they wouldn't try to send us back here!"

He pulled her close, whispering into her ear. "Don't even talk about taking your Everstone off, Lyra. You wanna get whipped?"

Everstone. She tugged away from him, wrapping her fingers around the collar. For such a little thing, it felt incredibly strong. Even when she took it in both hands, she couldn't even bend it. "You never called it that before. What's an Everstone?"

He sat up, glancing nervously to either side. The rooftop was deserted, or at least it looked that way. Vel's senses were sharp enough to pick up on scents, or even the quiet sounds that some daemons made while walking or flying. She had seen no sign of other visitors for hours.

"That." He nodded at the collar. "Can't tell me you don't realize. How you, me, and Hilda are different from the other servants."

She stood up, glancing up and down the roof. It was relatively flat up here, broken by the occasional skylight and carved gargoyle. They took the shape of legendary pokémon, leering down on all who passed the mansion. They also helped conceal Lyra when she decided to climb up and explore. What was one shadow among so many?

"Course we are. We're the ones who never settle. Cuz they never let us be what we wanna be."

As she said it, Vel stood up beside her, nudging her side with one fluffy paw. His long tail curled protectively around her legs, nudging her away from the edge. That was a long, long way down. "Except right now. We haven't been a servant pokémon all day."

"Who's side you on, anyhow?" She shoved him away, more forcefully than she would with anyone else. Her daemon felt everything she did, and wouldn't fall and get hurt unexpectedly. He dropped back to all fours, circling around the rooftop in a blur of frustrated motion.

"The collar stops us from settling," he said. "And if you don't settle, you don't grow up." He pulled his legs around his knees, looking up. "You ever stop to think that maybe we got things pretty good? Wearing this stuff, we kinda get to pretend to be mythicals too. I remember Steward Edward. And before him was Alfred. And before him..." He trailed off. "I think he's dead now. Got old. You've been here even longer 'an me."

She stuck out her tongue. She had been there longer than Hilda too. Only the Great Family were the same since her arrival. Importantly, that meant no one could complain about her, or even guess how long she'd been around. No one knew, not even her.

"So why give 'em to kids?" she asked, lifting her necklace as far off her skin as she could. The collars weren't that tight, really—they were meant to be comfortable. "Pick the most important servants, let them keep 'em instead. Then they don't need to pick out new ones."

Don joined her on the edge, looking down. The grounds were mostly empty this late at night, with only the faint outline of the soldiers on their patrol. None of those would bother Lyra, so long as she didn't get too close to the edge of the grounds. "You ain't listening to me. I said it stops you from settling. Anyone important to the family, they're settled already. Giving 'em an Everstone wouldn't do anything."

"Unless their daemon wasn't evolved yet," said his minccino from just beside him. "Evolving is like settling too."

"But they'd have to keep them small either way," Don continued. "Like how no one settles into a pikachu, they have to start as a pichu. Could get a collar then, but... they'd still never become anyone important. They'd be just like us, only less useful."

She ran the details over in her head. But no matter how upset she might be to admit it, Don made sense. A pikachu could get old without ever evolving into a raichu. Only the baby pokémon had to evolve.

She turned her back on him, hurrying towards the hatch. "Why us, Don? Why keep three of us like this? We're not that much better than the other kids."

She knew a lot more than any new servants—knew where everything was, what each member of the Victini family expected, and who to ask about whatever problem might arise. Yet in other ways, she still felt painfully limited. The other servants were sometimes better with their hands. They could trick her too, if she wasn't careful. Lyra was always alert for tricks. The longer she stayed, the less she ever trusted the newcomers. Better not to risk it at all.

"Not sure," he admitted. Neither of them was strong enough to lift the hatch on their own—but together, they finally got it up, with a rattle and groan of metal. "Maybe they're waiting for something. Or maybe our parents got in so much trouble we have to work forever to pay it off."

He slipped past her, daemon balanced on his head as he clambered down the opening.

Lyra stayed there a little longer, lost in thought. The other kids didn't understand the Great Families at all—they just thought they were mean, and never had a reason for what they did. One day they would feel like ruining someone's life, the next they might save it, and there was never any way to know which it would be.

That was wrong, though. The Great Families were confusing, but not crazy. They just had reasons that most people didn't think of. So why would they keep us like this?

"Hurry up! I think—" Don squealed, then vanished from beneath the ladder.

She dropped to her knees beside the opening, whispering down through the hole as loud as she dared. "Don? Don, what happened?"

Light flashed in front of her, a smooth wave of heat that washed over her and Vel. The ground fell out from under her, and she landed on her butt. Her servant's dress flopped out around her in all directions.

She was inside, somewhere with a stone floor and smelling faintly of ash. Someone loomed over her, his feet never touching the ground. He folded both arms, looking impatient. "You two weren't in the servants' quarters. I had to go looking for you. I do not appreciate having my time wasted."

It was Fae, heir of Victini House, looking even more upset than usual.