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Lance of Blackthorn was known by many titles. The Draig of Blackthorn, The Dragon King, Mr Cape, Dad, King of the Birdkeepers, and so on. Many looked up to him, even those at the highest level of competitive battling. Though as he walked here in Unova’s mystical Village of Dragons, they knew him under another type of title.
Son-in-law.
The dragon tamers of this village smiled at him, having felt his presence. Women young and old bit their lips, while the men seemed eager to see just how strong the Indigo league’s iudex truly was. Lance however wasn’t really interested in either of those things. He had a surplus of both. He was here for a different reason.
Lance popped some joints in his neck as a family of druddigon marched by and he found himself at the center of the village where statues of the pokemon reshiram and zekrom stood. To walk in between them was seen as taboo.
Unless you were a dragon master, of course. Which Lance most certainly was. Lance walked in between the two dragons, where he hoped that perhaps some semblance of the original dragon lingered, though if he were being honest, he felt none.
Right past the statues was none other than The Grand Den. It was basically the village’s own version of a town hall, though in this case it was unmistakably a house. A large one that towered over the smaller houses of the village. Large, gray, and with all sorts of dragon pokemon standing guard around it.
Some of the haxorus hissed as Lance approached them, though they backed down by the time he placed his foot on the first step. Lance walked up the great steps of The Grand Den, where the door opened before he could even stop to knock on the door. There, Lance was greeted by an aged woman, her body covered in tribal robes.
“Ah… Lance. You’re the boy from the TV. How nice of you to visit…” said the woman. “Come in, come in, His Grandness has been expecting you.”
“Grandness, huh?” Lance shook his head. “I’ll never get used to that.”
Lance entered The Grand Den where his nose was assaulted by a variety of smells. He could see some women of all ages housed here in the den, moving through with food or who knew what else. Children as well were here, though most seemed to be wrangled deeper into the house, no doubt towards the mothering room, where the children and their mothers could all be together. It did take a village to raise a child after all, and luckily there was a whole village within this house alone.
Lance moved through the house, going up the stairs. In it he’d see paintings hung on the walls. Tribal art preserved for what could easily be hundreds of years, maybe more. For all he knew they could trace back to the days of The Dragon Schism. He wouldn’t be surprised. Opelucid was a proud and thriving bastion of all dragon tamers. From paintings then came photos, some of the village’s establishment, and others of the neighboring city of Opelucid.
The rooms with open doors revealed different spots in each one. Some held books that no doubt had transcripts of who knows what kind of history, others held relics. The den was basically a museum, hidden from most of the world. That’s how cultures survive, he supposed. Some things are best kept, especially when they’re all you have left. Though he argued that kind of sentiment worked more with a culture such as the Native Unovans over at Floccesy reserve rather than the Dragon Tamers of Opelucid Autonomous Subregion.
This eventually led Lance to the uppermost room. There was of course the master’s bedroom, but that wasn’t what he was headed to. Lance and the aged lady’s steps echoed on the hard wood as they approached The Draig’s personal study.
The Draig was rarely ever found in his study room. He was also too busy being somewhere else. Sometimes he was with his gillies, or perhaps observing his offspring, other times he was dealing with whatever dispute occurred in the cities or surrounding areas. One could even find him in Vertress rather than here. And whenever none of his duties to either state or family were to be attended to, he was out training diligently as he’d always had.
“My dear…” the lady opened the door. There sat the man Lance came to see. With a head full of hair colored a bony white. His back turned to the door as he skimmed through the books on his shelf. The Draig turned around, seeing the younger Draig at the door with one of his gillies.
“Lance.”
“Drayden.”
“Leave us,” Drayden told his gilly. His voice was that of a dragon’s in every aspect. To which she bowed and left. The man put down the book in his hands on the table as he walked over to Lance. Drayden looked the same as he’d always been. White shirt, gray slacks, suspenders, big beard that looked like a mask. The older man extended his hand, and Lance would shake it.
Drayden’s grip was strong. Hard like a stone, or perhaps dragon scales was a better comparison. One would think that old age would cause it to soften somewhat, but to Lance, Drayden’s grip had only gotten stronger.
Lance let go, though Drayden held on. The older man squeezed his hand, which caused Lance to swipe his hand back, breaking free of his grip instead.
“You’re finally back here in Unova,” Drayden said with proud eyes.
“Well I thought it was customary to pay the in-laws a visit every now and then,” Lance jested. “I came looking for Dino. But apparently he’s in the Black City. I guess I'll fly over there after I’m done here.”
“Is that all?”
“That is all.”
“You’ve come here, to the Village of Dragons. And that is all you’ve come to see?”
“I have enough dragon culture related chicanery to settle back home, nothing’s new.” With that, Lance turned his back on Drayden. “I’m taking my leave now, Drayden.”
“You really have no pride in us do you?”
“Us?” Lance turned around once more to face the growling elder. “What do you mean us ?!”
“Us. Who we are. Dragon tamers. The dragon pokemon. Our history, our struggles, our achievements. It’s all nothing but dust under your feet. How a man like Dinadan could-”
Drayden wasn’t even able to react as the younger Draig grabbed him by the throat, Lance’s fingers threatening to pierce through and crush his windpipe as if they were talons.
“Mention my father again and you’ll join him,” Lance growled at him. His calm and more relaxed exterior had been shed to give way to the fire Drayden had been asking for. The mere utterance of the name around Lance was like touching his reverse scale. Drayden placed his hands on Lance’s wrist and forced the iudex off of him.
“There it is,” Drayden rubbed his neck. “That’s what I’m looking for.”
“Arceus has a funny way of making sure you always hate your in-laws,” Lance said as he turned his back on Drayden once more. “There is no us . Only you . That’s how it is, in the end. Where we’re standing. Where my father stood. It’s never been about us or the proud dragon tamer culture . It’s always been just you . Always been about other people that held the title of Draig and the power that came with it. The power, the women, the legacy, everything. And I’m not interested.”
“This is much bigger than I am. Only a fool would think otherwise,” Drayden argued. “This village of dragons, this subregion, this culture. I have given my all for it! And you dare say that I only care about myself?!”
“You shipped your daughter off to me when she started being too much of a handful,” Lance spat. “The moment I caved in to the elders and started taking gillies like you did. You didn’t even hesitate. You had dowries and everything. Well she’s a mother now, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“A mother to one.”
“One is more than enough. Maybe if you actually loved your wives, you would know that.”
With that, Lance exited the room. He was off to see Dino and hopefully his mother too. They tended to spend more time in Unova for the sake of their son’s journey, though they obviously took the time to be back in Johto too. He wondered how his little boy would fare against his old man. Lance smiled at the thought, lightening his mood after his angry outburst just a moment earlier.
This left Drayden alone in his study once more. He sighed. Kids these days. They were getting too soft. He looked at his shelf full of books right behind his table, and then at the shelf on the wall at the left of the room. He looked at them, on each one was pictured a photograph of himself with his gillies, and the children in each one. They were updated every now and again, usually to keep track of who was who and where was where.
His eyes fell upon one of his larger families. Particularly his grandchildren, the ones old enough to now be trainers themselves and roam the world. Three in particular came to the forefront of his mind.
Drayton, Iris, and Georgia.
Drayton had languished in that academy his mother had put him in. News stated that he wasn’t even the strongest trainer there anymore. That boy. He’d had so much promise yet he’d become nothing but a failure in the end. There was no way that boy could ever succeed him as gym leader of the Opelucid gym.
Then there was Iris. His granddaughter through another gilly. She was a free spirit with a powerful assortment of dragons all her own. Everything seemed so perfect. She was going to become the new leader of the Opelucid gym, though when she became champion, she took to being the iudex instead after she trumped her friend Hildegarde Black at the league. Suddenly she was unavailable, and he found himself silently scrambling for someone else.
There was no one else. Those two were the finest of his grandchildren. One was locked away in school and the other in the league.
As for Georgia, well. He hadn’t seen her in forever. She had a lone frame all to herself right next to the family she ran away from. The dragon’s blood had since sworn to become a dragon buster rather than a dragon master. The only reason they were able to snap a photo of her was when she was in Vertress city for its conference.
Three distinct grandchildren all out there in the world. Lance’s words echoed in his mind as he thought about them.
Some of his gillies and daughters, especially Drayton’s mother, had been saying he was too hard on him.
Perhaps they were right.
Some of his daughters, especially Iris’ mother, had been saying that Iris could not be contained. That she will not be railroaded down the path he had set for her, and will use her strengths to soar free across the skies.
Perhaps they were right.
Georgia…. The moment his son (her father) died, she ran away with her. Now she’d since geared her life to become the antithesis of this culture he championed.
That part was true.
His mind went back to Drayton. That boy he deemed will never be fit to become his successor as gym leader. That boy he’d styled into wanting it more than anything else.
What if he was in that school for so long because he didn’t want to be here again?
He didn’t want to believe that. But here, in his dark lonesome, Drayden was left to wonder.
He had always desired to find who was best. But what if he had ended up gearing himself to settle for who was left?