Through the Eyes of a Flareon [PG] (Chapter 31 FINALLY up)

[Suicune's Fire]

Chapter Twenty-eight: Aim and Fire

Each pokémon hammering against the top of the shield was weakening Rentana and presenting her with excess strain. Her muscles were going to give out at any moment; she knew she couldn’t protect her friends for much longer.

“Ren, it’s fine...” Tarla explained calmly. “Release the shield. You need to save your strength for offence.”

The kirlia was unsure, but Etire faced her, catching her gaze. “She’s right. We have help now! You can let it go.”

After a moment longer of consideration, the psychic type gave a nod and, with the release of a bottled breath, she dropped her arms. She crumpled with relief, beginning to pant with the effort as the lessened aching continued. Etire placed a hand on her back and she looked to him with a tiny appreciative smile.

The group of four dispersed as another rhyhorn dropped from above, a loud crunching crash probably splitting the earth from behind. Rentana jumped with surprise and the others focused themselves, Derino pressing a curled paw into his open one in preparation for a brick break. As he did that, Tarla tried her wing, as if by some miracle it had healed in an unrealistically short period of time. She knew that she could have flown if she tried, but the pain would have rendered her unable to focus or direct herself properly, and decided it was best to leave it alone until she could return to Aemara.

The krinar was barely of any use, his injuries too recent to do anything, and the kirlia’s energy was, as she had realised, low and of an inefficient to be able to apply it to any sort of focus on battling. The thought scared her, especially as she knew that it meant she was unable to protect her mate, who, as she glanced to him and looked him over worriedly, appeared weak and barely even able to stand.

“Watch out!” called Tarla, and the kirlia snatched Etire out the way of a rock fired their way. The altaria hopped forward two steps and fired a dragonbreath, the odd indigo and yellow flames crackling as they worked with one another and swept over the rhyhorn. His cringe indicated that his body felt some kind of response to the attack, which was better than nothing, but obviously he was far from finished. “Go on,” persuaded the dragon and flying type, her neck twisting to help her see her comrades. “Escape through one of the side passages. Don’t worry about me.”

Etire and Rentana looked to one another, the latter supporting the former as he limped on a single leg. “We can’t leave you,” the krinar scoffed with obviousness in his tone.

“You have to,” hissed the opposing pokémon, but he shook his head.

“You protected us when we couldn’t protect ourselves, and we need to—”

Unleashing a screech and propelling herself to the side with her good wing, Tarla narrowly avoided the rhyhorn, who charged their way. His anger replaced any rationality as he flashed an angry glare to the three, rounding without stopping and charging again toward Tarla. “There’s no—point!” she yelled as she once again tried to move from range. She chanced a futile stroke of her wing, but the produced air did nothing to influence the ground and rock type to do anything but blink a moment later. He roared, the ground beneath his feet trembling at his very presence. “You can’t do anything!” she continued to protest. “And I saved you because that’s what—”

A violent slam jerked the altaria forward, her neck whipping back as she felt something painful occur in the bones. The force sent her forward, the pokémon who had charged her bucking her off its head plate as the first rhyhorn looked on, a little shocked by the appearance of a second of his species to attack his prey. However, they didn’t argue or even exchange mutual or one-sided acknowledgement for one another as they split up and targeted the ralts evolutions.

“Rentana,” Etire began urgently, trying to stand on his own, “we have trouble!”

The kirlia’s shaking limbs did not provide suitable mental support, the doubt she had for herself threatening to override any sort of hope she had for overcoming the prominent injuries and aches. She contemplated dropping Etire to focus on her attack, but decided against it, even though she could feel him resisting. Immediately she thought he was growing weaker and was not choosing to release her, and she frowned defiantly.

“No, let me go... You need to focus! You can’t while I’m...” The krinar stopped as he felt his arm tingle with an unfamiliar sensation. He could feel it rippling through his skin as he contemplated what his mate was dong.

The kirlia focused a moment longer, mustering the strength she needed, and a second before the two rhyhorn came upon them, she vanished, reappearing on the side of the room and before one of the openings that veered away. She collapsed on the ground, the krinar doing the same as he lost his physical support. She whispered apologies and looked up, spotting the rhyhorn halfway across the other side of the room.

“Well, you lost ‘em,” he commented, and she nodded, regaining her breath and getting back to her toes. Normally she would not have felt such strain when she teleported, but taking another as well as herself while she was weak was what did it.

From a distance, on the opposite side of the cave, Rentana spotted a small battle happening between two geodude and a rhyhorn and the flareon and houndoom she had seen enter. She thought for a moment, trying to recall when she’d seen either of them. As her eyes fell upon the newly arriving glaceon and quagsire, she felt a tiny pang of relief, but her faith was not restored as she noticed something: they were losing.

Scanning the rest of the room, she noticed, in the immense light pouring in from a ways above, the rock and ground types had the upper hand. Their rock projectiles shattered against anyone they touched, dealing damage while the spray barely affected their teammates. Their physical attacks overcoming the pokémon with a type advantage with sheer numbers and encumbering strength. Splash was the hardiest of them all and proved to be the most difficult to overcome, she realised, as she watched him wrap his massive paws around a geodude’s arms and run a jet of water over his face, spraying the others while he was at it, and hauled the pokémon to the side. Occasionally another would notice the airborne pokémon and a few times, they would work together, such as when the glaceon would project a sheet of snow which often solidified moments after emerging from her body, only for another rock type to shatter it to free their comrade. There were only three geodude and two rhyhorn out of their entire group that had lost their consciousness, and the rest were still perfectly able to battle.

“Rentana!” Etire called a little desperately, shuffling to his feet. She looked in the direction he was facing, noticing a charging dual type, and a few diglett also appeared around them. She gritted her teeth, swallowing as she tried to pinpoint an attack that didn’t sap too much of her energy but was effectively damaging. The only thing that came to mind was shadow ball, and, summoning the negative energy required, she fired a small one at a diglett, who simple withdrew into the earth and avoided the attack completely. It didn’t give the kirlia much hope, and as she glanced around at her other opponents, she came to the conclusion that she would have to think of something else. Either that, or she and her mate were in major trouble.

***

It had been right that the pesky houndoom jumped to my rescue at the last moment. Typical it took him so long though; it was as if he was testing my patience, or even my worth, to begin with. It was rather disgusting, but I threw the thought away as we were attacked again. It was getting ridiculous. I hadn’t had much of an opportunity to focus on any other group, but I could tell that the enemy was winning. They didn’t seem discouraged if one of us bowled over five at once, as they simply got back up, as if the undead who were incapable of hitting the rocky floor for good.

Rocks had shattered on my skin and I had been horn attacked twice or three times. The bruises were going to develop soon after, I knew, and hoped that I wasn’t bleeding anywhere I didn’t notice. My bullet wounds were beginning to hurt again, even if they had long closed up, and the thought made my annoyance rather plentiful.

“Zaion, we have to do something,” I told him with some urgency, a geodude aiming for my legs as he drew an arm back. “Oh, no you don’t!” I hissed, launching a shadow ball at his face. He was blown back and momentarily dazed before realising that he was fine, and threatened to continue without a hitch. The sight made me blow smoke through my nose. “We’re losing. We have to pull out!”

“Good of you to understand the predicament,” he answered, and called something to Azure, who was busy flipping and leaping to the side while accompanying the altaria. She then flicked her head to the two ralts evolutions on the other side of the cavern and fled, and I wondered for a brief moment if Tarla would be okay on her own, but was soon accompanied by the granbull, which quelled my concern.

Suddenly my mind retreated to Zhol, and I wished greatly that she was with me. As much as I didn’t want her injured any further, it would have been handy to have that moral support and a good fighter on our side.

A cry drew me to the quagsire, who was rammed into by a rhyhorn and trapped against a wall. I had briefly seen his handiwork in battle and concluded that he was a battler certainly worthy of a rescue. He had put countless bundles of effort into protecting others and slowly causing a decline in the enemy’s numbers. I looked quickly to Zaion and quickly told him that I planned to help. The houndoom gave me a wary glance and continued to fend off another pokémon while I swallowed and spotted a rhyhorn close by who decided it was a smart idea to charge. I encouraged myself to smile with confidence as he approached, and drew a breath, feeling my legs tingle with expectation as I leaped onto his face above his horn. In response he bucked his head, throwing me over his body. Conveniently that was what I wanted, but I understood that a rhyhorn with a pokémon on his face was not very comforting. However, it was not as if I cared what was comfortable for my opponents. It was my aim to make them uncomfortable.

I landed with a thump and regained myself quickly, bounding toward the rhyhorn who held the quagsire against the wall. I was so focused on devising an offensive move to rid the ground and water type of the rhyhorn pressing against his body with unwanted pressure to heed the houndoom’s barks of urgency. In fact, I dismissed them in an effort to concentrate. I should have listened.

A disturbingly familiar pain exploded in my left side and scaled the surrounding flesh before everything blurred and I slammed into the wall to my right. More pain cut across my entire right side as it collided, the rock wall’s jagged edges jabbing my skin as I felt my body compress and the muscles tighten responsively. I shrieked, the feeling stripping me of any other thought or means to concentrate as the horn punctured my flesh, the force of the rhyhorn’s body increasingly unbearable. The feeling was absolutely horrendous; my brain thunderously pulsed with the immensity of the pain, my body unable to move, to writhe or to repel the force. My bones began to feel as if they were crunching, my body shuddering with a frightening consistency as the horn dug into my flesh, feeling as if it ripped through the layer of meat and began to scrape my organs. My screams punctured the air with repetitive consistency, the shrillness startling even me as they continued, the pain bursting through me.

My thoughts went to death as I struggled against the horrific measure of pain searing through every inch of my body, my breath erupting from my mouth as screams of pure agony, the feeling failing to cease even a shred. My screams of utter anguish ripped through the air, combined blubbering and gushes of tears in accompaniment.

“HELP!” I managed to gurgle, the increasing pressure causing me to falter shortly after as I felt a horrid sensation in the pit of my throat. With a jerk from my stomach, a bomb of blood exploded from my mouth and splattered the ground before I coughed and spluttered, continuing to wail as I realised just what I had done. The sheer horror of the prospect was enough to contort my face even further, and in response, a stream of flames billowed from my maw and poured onto whatever it could find, which happened to be Splash and the rhyhorn still pressing into him. The flames were hotter than I intended and my lips wrenched back as I realised the heat was nearly burning my throat.

I felt the removal of the rhyhorn’s horn from my side all at once, my body shaking as I slipped down the wall and slopped onto the ground, moaning in agony. I felt horrifyingly sick, battered and bruised, tears flowing from my eyes as I struggled to breathe, each intake haggard and hesitant, my wound beating with renewed pain each time. My limbs were flat and floppy, my head lazily against the ground, and my mane poked me in several places.

I spluttered again and what remained of the blood residue in my mouth rolled out and dribbled down my face, my eyes half open as I tried to comprehend what was happening. I could feel the warm liquid pooling under my cheek, colouring my facial fur maroon.

Slowly the world span and I resisted, attempting to blink out the problem but failing to abolish it. The feeling overcame me, smothering my consciousness as I drifted away from the cave, away from the pokémon around me, and away from even myself.

***

Derino felt his shoulder pulse as he and the houndoom ravaged the rhyhorn on the cavern floor, avoiding any charging, stomping or thrown rocks aimed in their direction. The houndoom roared with great ferocity and fought with similar energy, his strong lungs projecting a stream of fire to engulf the pokémon and, if nothing else, distort its surroundings with smoke and coloured, wavering filters. He snarled and snapped, building negative thoughts and unleashing a wave of dark power and combined, the purple normal type and the dual type hound pokémon managed to defeat their foe.

“And stay down!” Zaion shouted with a triumphant snort.

The two looked to each other and then to the fallen pokémon. Looking at its horn, the granbull growled before wiping blood off his forearm. The flareon’s blood.

Zaion bolted away from the fallen rock and ground type, appearing beside the flareon in a heartbeat. He quickly sunk and was quick to inspect the wound, which looked to be between her ribs and her hip on her left side. It wept blood at a steady rate, and he recoiled, sure that the wound would only get worse if he didn’t find a way to stop the bleeding. The sight of the blood spatter near her face, which she had thrown up, was also confronting, and he suddenly contemplated how bad the wound really was. The fact that she had been rendered unconscious came to him as no surprise; the shock was enough to do that, as well as the accompanying exhaustion. He only hoped that the attack didn’t puncture any vital organs.

The thought of a horn in one’s side was a horrendous one, and he could only imagine what it was like to experience. In a rage, he whirled around and called, “Is this what you wanted?” A few pokémon turned their attention to him for a moment, but that didn’t stop them from fighting. “Listen to me!” he roared, launching a crackling fireball at the ceiling. The earth bordering the hole in the ceiling began to crumble and some bits fell down below, striking a geodude and avoiding Azure by a mere hair. She glared at him, but he only glared back with twice the intensity. “Look what you foolish pokémon have DONE to this flareon! Someone who entered this fight to try and help pokémon she doesn’t even know.”

Some of the wild pokémon focused on his words, but some scoffed in response, remorse clearly not crossing their minds. “Anyone who fights alongside the ones that desecrated our lands is an enemy! You disrespect the land and you disrespect its inhabitants!”

The houndoom sneered. “Don’t you think this is taking it a bit far?”

“Never!” grumbled a gravelly geodude. “If we hadn’t stopped that fool,” he began, thrusting an accusing hand at the krinar on the opposite side of the cave to the houndoom, “he would have destroyed our wall. OUR home. Who knows what else he could have destroyed?”

“If you just asked, I would have stopped!” protested the krinar, who was only looked upon with disdain.

“You see?” the houndoom barked, capturing all attention again. He briefly observed his teammates backing away from the group of rock types, holding their ground a few paces back. “The matter could have been resolved through simple words. Then they could have moved on and everyone would have peace.”

“We don’t make peace with traitors!” spat a furious rhyhorn, who, when given a moment to step out and show herself, was clearly identified as Thunderquake, the leader. She commanded her teammates’ attention and respect as she stood proudly.

“Traitor?” Etire questioned, surprise taking his entire expression. “I don’t bear association with your herd.”

The rock and ground type kept her gaze upon Zaion. “No traitor is welcome. We kill traitors so they don’t return to betray and cause further harm.”

Zaion’s face was as muddled with confusion and shock as Etire’s, and he blinked with a frown. “Traitors? What do you mean by that?”

“Any foolish youngling knows what a traitor is!” boomed the rhyhorn. “Tell me, boy. What is your name so that I may shout chants of satirical nature about the fool who didn’t even know what he was?”

“How are these pokémon traitors?” he demanded. “Or me for that matter?”

She looked to him with a hardened expression of contempt. She then tossed her gaze about and rested her eyes upon a few colony pokémon, snorting with ridicule. “No pokémon of this assortment is part of a single clan.” Zaion watched carefully, somewhat knowing of what she was going to direct the accusation to. “And any clan knows not to destroy lands that belong to other pokémon, for they themselves own land they wish to protect!”

“It was a simple mistake,” Etire intervened, speaking up so his voice reached her hidden ears.

“Mistake or not, we cannot overlook the suspicion we have no choice but to employ. And therefore, you are our enemies!” The rock and ground types roared in reply, the rhyhorn scraping their solid legs along the ground with snorts and rumbles. The geodude flexed their muscles and a few punched the ground.

“No, no, stop!” the houndoom called again, and although reluctant, the rhyhorn lay enraged eyes upon him.

“Do not try to stop us, fool!”

“Maybe you are the fool,” a voice accused, and the rhyhorn, nearly livid at the suggestion, tossed her head to her right to spot an altaria who looked relatively worn. The other rock and ground types drilled their outraged glares into the flying type but she stood her ground, a wing hanging somewhat limply at her side. “You brand us traitors, attack us needlessly and then disregard our pleas for innocence.”

“You made no—”

“And worst of all,” the altaria continued, her eyes narrow and her tone conveying implications of something close to hurt, “you disrespect our colony.” Further explanation of the statement was clearly desired as everyone remained silent. “The Usster Colony was founded by Retsu, a most honourable a flygon who had at heart the interests of stray pokémon with nowhere to go. The very purpose of our colony is its multiculturalism—the unique acceptance of any pokémon, regardless of species, gender, type or past conflictions who have no place in the world, or who may have been rejected from their previous homes and families.” She scanned the room, noticing as Azure shifted a little uncomfortably.

Nobody spoke for a few seconds and all seemed dead silent. Zaion glanced with minor desperation to the flareon beside him and Tarla noticed, eager to resolve the issue and get her medical aid.

For around five seconds, the lead rhyhorn merely looked on, a judgemental mind making its decision. “While I cannot understand your acceptance of any pokémon who simply asks your favour, I accept it.” For a moment Tarla was surprised but relieved, but the rock type was not finished. “But I cannot stand idly by while a hypocrite tries to tell us how disrespectful we are when your disrespect started this entire battle! Traitors!”

“I think you have the wrong idea of what a traitor is,” Zaion proposed with etched scepticism, watching as the pokémon a few metres from him flared up with anger. “How are we traitors for destroying your territory? Disrespectful, yes,” he started, throwing a small glare to Etire, “but not traitors.”

“You are not just traitors to us. But the whole of your kind,” the rhyhorn hissed.

“To...houndoom?” Zaion questioned in confusion, turning his head on an exaggerated angle.

“No,” she grunted, “to every pokémon who ever lived.”

With a face of shock and then confusion, followed by the addition of near-amusement, the houndoom looked to Tarla, who relayed his expression. The drama of the situation was blown far out of proportion. “Look. I think we better just negotiate some kind of—”

“I already told you,” boomed the rhyhorn, rearing for exaggerated effect, “we do not make peace with traitors. That includes you Rokont scum!”

“Rokont?!” blurted Derino with his gruff edge, silencing the entire room. His bark was so abrupt and direct that nobody’s eyes rested anywhere but to him. Some of the smaller geodude and a few diglett, who had emerged from the ground to listen in, cowered uncomfortably under his infuriated scowl. He puffed his chest out and, too far from a wall to be able to hit one, dropped to the ground and thrust a fist directly beneath where he stood, the floor giving a small shudder. He rose slowly with broad shoulders raised around his neck, and he glowered at the rhyhorn with such wrathful pupils that even she looked on with a tiny instigation of shock. “Those weak, cowardly, frail-minded desecrators are in no way associated with my brothers and sisters,” he snarled with a whisper of disgust, his lips curling back, framing long, sharp teeth. “How DARE you correlate the likes of those screwed up, insidious bastards with my pack mates.” He plodded steadily and purposefully toward the rhyhorn, who narrowed her eyes and coloured her lips with corresponding scorn as he approached, stopping inches before her face. “I would sooner skin my own body and hang myself by my jaw than willingly cooperate with the Rokont Organisation.” His breath was foul; the rhyhorn merely glared back at him.

Silence flooded the room. Not a single strand of hair swayed; not the smallest pebble shifted. The breeze didn’t dare enter the cavern, no muscle chancing a twitch. Breaths entered and exited bodies with unfamiliar gradualness; no eyelid fell over any pupil.

Ears ticked to the sound of spluttering, and a single body moved, seizing on the ground in small shivers.

“She’s in danger,” Tarla snapped, breaking the silence almost nobody would have dared to shatter otherwise. The lead rhyhorn, who she remembered was called Thunderquake, turned to her with reluctance, quickly eying the granbull before her while doing so. “She was attacked by one of your rhyhorn. Now look what’s happened.” Everybody turned back, and the flareon began to stir as she groaned with pain, failing to regain consciousness. “She needs desperate help or she’ll bleed out.”

“What do I do?” the houndoom questioned a little anxiously, capturing the lead rhyhorn’s attention.

“We do not inflict wounds with intention to heal them afterwards. I do not know how to tend to your friend’s wound.”

The granbull took another step, causing her eyes to flick back to him. “Your subordinates better have some way to deal with this,” he growled, glare firmly set. “You made the mistake. You will help us fix it.”

“The only mistake made was by your paw. It was your appearance in our territory that began this feud, and then your reckless destruction which cost us damage to our lands and you...” She moved her head to the limp flareon soaking in her own blood and narrowed her eyes. “I think you can guess.”

The granbull roared, and Zaion was sure he was going to strike the rock type in front of him, but the blow never came, and the normal type loomed over her, working his intimidation. “You must atone for what that creature caused.” He threw an arm in a fallen rhyhorn’s direction, gesturing specifically to his bloodied horn.

“We must atone nothing!” she boomed, rearing on her back legs and coming down again with an enormous thud. “Your claims of indignation towards the Rokont Organisation were convincing; however, we still cannot be sure of your intentions. What could the... Usster Colony possibly want with our land?”

“Azure,” Tarla whispered hurriedly, and the glaceon turned. “Tend to the wound. Maybe your ice can help.”

The ice type gave a brief nod and warily glanced about, making her way slowly between the enemy pokémon as they sneered at the prospect of their target slipping from their grasp. On her way past Splash, she uttered, “Come.” The two stopped by Dusty and the flareon groaned another time, her eyes still closed. Azure guessed she wasn’t yet conscious but was probably trying to wake, and commanded Splash to wash the wound out.

Ever so carefully, he sprayed water into the wound, and the surrounding skin tensed, her leg twitching with discomfort. The water twisted and turned, becoming tinted with a scarlet hue. Azure moved her head to the other side, against the wall, and propped the flareon’s back half up, allowing the water to trickle down her fur and out of the opening. She set her back down and came around next to Splash.

“We were on our way to the Rokont base,” Etire interjected, and the surrounding pokémon renewed the strength of their scornful glares. He gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes. He felt like slapping himself in the face after realising that he had only made things worse.

“You see?!” Thunderquake exclaimed, and Tarla hopped up beside Derino, taking a chance and nearing the opposition. The geodude and rhyhorn nearby closed in, ensuring that they didn’t let anybody take advantage of their leader.

“Who, in their right mind, would admit to returning to their own base if they wished to keep their identity hidden?” she questioned and, except for the soft murmuring of Zaion and Azure, who discussed Dusty’s treatment, everyone was silent again. “We’re on our way there for an investigation.” When nobody spoke again, their accusations replaced with narrowed eyes, she continued. “There was an attack on our village without explanation and we decided that taking a party to the base would be a good way to figure it out. We have one of their teammates hostage, which is clear leverage for us.”

With a snort, the rhyhorn produced a belittling smile. The other pokémon followed her, and she broke into a rumbling, condescending chortle. Tarla frowned in surprise, completely unsure why their reaction had been as it had. She looked to Derino, who was just as confused. The rhyhorn continued, her laughter breaking off after a good few seconds. “You really aren’t from the Rokont Organisation,” she confirmed, and those around her nodded, clearly amused.

“Well what’s that supposed to mean?” Tarla queried, a frown taking her face.

The rhyhorn only looked at her with a face of cruel mockery. “Walking into their base with one insignificant minor will get you slaughtered; nothing more.”

“Not nothing more, leader,” one began, and she turned to him. “Perhaps they’ll have the privilege of being put on display outside of their base.” The room rumbled with more distasteful chuckles, and Tarla swallowed. It was obvious he hadn’t meant alive.

The granbull growled, clearly unhappy with her response. “We’re going there and that’s final.”

Thunderquake shot him a condescending glower. “Don’t expect us to erect gravestones in your wake.”

“Well, go on,” shouted a random rhyhorn, “get out of our territory. It’s death’s territory you want.”

“Okay, would you stop with the death thing?” Tarla screeched, but the rock types continued to chuckle between one another. “We’re going, regardless of what you think. We don’t care if you have a problem with it. We’ll go and just...figure out what to do once we get there.”

“Send me a messenger bird from the Underworld; I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like,” laughed a geodude, and the others slammed fists and shoulders into him in hearty amusement

Tarla shot a glare to the geodude, who didn’t even bother to look. “Look,” Tarla began, sure that Thunderquake was just as keen to see the “intruders” leave, “all we want is to pass through here.” She surveyed the area, sure that this wasn’t their most desirable path.

However, it seemed none of them were able to escape back through the hole. Had her wing been fine, she could shoot straight up like a sapling in good weather, and Rentana could teleport herself. However, there were complications with teleportation that Tarla didn’t understand; besides, the kirlia had specifically made it clear that she would not take advantage of her ability to teleport while her mate, who was unable to use the same ability, would be left behind. Tarla figured it was fair, although it unfairly limited her abilities, which was the part that annoyed her.

From the corner of her eye, Tarla saw several of the enemy pokémon beginning to wake, their grogginess slowly blinked or shaken out. She was glad that they were not currently in the middle of battle, as they would have to try to defeat the same enemies a second time. That thought was not at all comforting.

“Yes. I too want you gone.” Thunderquake tossed a head to the opposite side of the cave, where the two ralts evolutions were. “There’s two paths that way and more over there.” She threw her gaze to the left wall.

“I was going to make a proposition,” admitted the altaria, trying to stand tall. The quadruped rock and ground type raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “We don’t know the way out of here. You want us out, so it would only seem logical that you helped us through. Do you not agree?”

“An escort party?” Thunderquake questioned with obvious amusement. Tarla blinked and swallowed, keeping herself composed. “Are you all the age of two years?”

Once again the flareon spluttered and jerked, the wound caused by a horn sealed with ice. The houndoom looked up. “Your vicious beasts did this. Your efforts to make up for it would be...appreciated,” he said, almost controlling himself as he dipped his head to stare at her from an angle. The words seemed almost like a threat. The rhyhorn narrowed her eyes and snorted.

“Although I don’t appreciate your implication, you dog, I do believe that guidance on our part would benefit us both,” she answered, “as we do not live beneath the surface. We travel this way occasionally but our homes are on ground level. We would be making our way out anyway.”

“Exactly,” Tarla agreed with a civil tone, showing as much submission as she dared. If the rhyhorn needed to feel as if she was in control of the newcomers as well as her own, then the flying type was content, even reluctantly, to abide. It was only the colony pokémon’s pride that would have prevented that, and Tarla thought herself lucky being able to shelve it without a problem. Especially when she and others needed aid.

“Very well,” the rhyhorn began, looking to the fallen eeveelution upon the ground. Her expression was unreadable as she looked, eyes at half-mast, before she turned her attention elsewhere. “We will comply.” Before the altaria could light up with relief, she added, “But you must agree to follow our counsel at every turn. If we tell you to walk a narrow bridge, you walk a narrow bridge. If you must leap across a ravine...” She turned to Tarla, switching from a somewhat condescending voice to one hardened with seriousness. “You jump.”

“Ravines and bridges?” questioned the dragon and flying type, and the rhyhorn nodded. “Underground?”

“Yes... I was right,” the pokémon mused to herself, staring at the altaria through disapproving eyes. “Your inexperience rules out any possibility that you are Rokonts. Unless, of course, you are staging it.”

Tarla decided to keep her beak shut, somehow not interested or willing to acknowledge just how powerful and experienced each member of this mysterious syndicate was and simply nodded. “I’m relieved to see that we finally agree.” She readdressed the most recent statement, adding, “None of what you have seen is staged.” She moved her head tentatively toward the flareon and watched as the rhyhorn also laid eyes on her. The truth was relatively clear.

“Thunderquake!” boomed one of the woken rhyhorn, startling several pokémon in the room. The rhyhorn looked to him and addressed him with a questioning face, a little unfazed by his rage. “What are you doing? These pokémon blemished our land!” The room fell silent as the other rock and ground types began to listen. “Even if they are not Rokonts,” he continued, spitting the last word with contemptuous disgust, “they still pose a physical threat to us.”

“Wait a minute,” Etire began from a little ways behind the rhyhorn, who looked to him with a sneer. “We’ve just been sorting this out. We’ve had the clear and we’re good to go. You’re not entitled to spoil the agreement now.”

“They are fine, Jaskore,” Thunderquake told him simply. “Any trace of suspicion has been denied existence.” She moved her glare to the altaria and granbull. “Or, rather, mollified.”

“Leader, you are making a grave mistake. These pokémon are strangers. Outsiders.” He looked to her with such seriousness that Tarla wondered if he had dreamed something ridiculous about them in his period of unconsciousness that confirmed some sort of evil intentions. He took a step forward, his voice filled with wariness. “They cannot be—”

“Do not question my authority again,” Thunderquake boomed, her composure completely intact and her voice powerful.

She looked to him with a face nearly blank but tinged with unquestionable authority. The reciprocating rhyhorn watched with a face that clearly suppressed his anger, his features twitching with his effort to remain in control. The two shared silent exchanges of master and servant until the lesser rock type pulled his gaze away with a grunt of displeasure. He threw his glare to a fellow rhyhorn who looked to agree with him.

“My decision is solidified,” she announced, each pokémon in the cavern turning their attention her. “Does anybody else wish to oppose me?” She angled her head down with minor manipulation, showing off her large horn. As Tarla scanned the crowd, she concluded that it was the longest and densest of the entire crowd. She wondered if that alone had gained her position, or if it was a combination, or merely a recognised boost for her status as leader.

There was not a stir in the crowd as Thunderquake’s eyes brushed over each of her followers, the diglett – who Tarla was unsure was part of her clan or not – also remaining silent. The female rhyhorn gave a short exhalation of satisfaction, turning herself to Tarla with the intentions of discussing small details before they were presumably to head off.

“I do,” one voice echoed. There was no movement after the majority of the room turned their heads. The speaker waited as Thunderquake stared at Tarla’s fluff, exemplifying her disbelief, before she inched around and lay her sights on a geodude near the rhyhorn, Jaskore, who had previous spoken up. The rock and ground type stood his ground and Thunderquake noticed the corner of Jaskore’s mouth curl into a smile.

“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded. The geodude swallowed.

“I believe that Jaskore has a valid argument,” he answered. To this Thunderquake turned her whole body, looking to the herd member with a challenging expression.

“So do I,” another female rhyhorn admitted and, with a snort, the leader increased the intensity of her glare. However, before she could speak, more raised their voices, beginning to lumber to the initial rebel. The numbers began to rise, to the others’ horror, and soon half the herd had sided with Jaskore. Etire and Rentana, behind the wall of back-turned rock and ground types, shook nervously as they realised that they had become cut off from the others. However, they were quick to realise that a rhyhorn and two geodude to their sides had not pledged their allegiance to the rebels, and stood their ground defiantly. They backed up, creating a small shield around the two psychic types, but luckily the traitors didn’t seem to yet notice their existence.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Thunderquake roared, her demand for an explanation firm and clear. Her temper rose and quickly peaked. “I am your leader! Anyone who dares to clash their armour with mine will be banished!”

Jaskore showed no visible response to the threat, simply smirking. “My horn may be second to yours in greatness, but the length of one’s horn is not all that defines a leader. My followers have recognised such.”

The rhyhorn nearly choked in response, booming, “Your followers?!” She scoffed, clearly detesting such a statement. “Your delusions far exceed your horn’s greatness; that is certain.”

“Silence!” the male boomed, his opposition only sneering without a shadow of respect for his orders. “You have reigned as leader for too long, Thunderquake. It is time...you stepped down.”

With an explosion of, “Traitors!” Thunderquake charged forwards, her rumbling steps alerting her supporters to her cause as they followed her into battle. They changed blindly toward Jaskore and his followers, the leader of which smirking with only accompanying disdain.

“Knock them down,” he commanded, and the majority of his followers obeyed without a second thought.

More hoots and howls rode the air as both sides clashed, the deafening sound of rock colliding with rock coming to the Usster pokémon’s ears. Rentana, Etire and the three on Thunderquake’s side were trapped behind the wall of Jaskore’s followers, although there were two passages off to their left, where the wall they were up against came closer to meeting one of the side walls. The psychic types realised that the rock types were completely uninclined to run, and looked closer to be readying themselves for battle. The rhyhorn swept a foot along the ground, snorting, while the two geodude slammed curled fists into open palms repeatedly, as if building strength and contemplating where to aim.

Rentana glanced around frantically, wondering if she could teleport to the opening only a little ways down. The only problem was that it was blocked by a few Jaskore followers. “Etire, do you see that passage?”

“No way,” he rejected immediately and Rentana looked to him curiously, nearly startled by his abrupt response before he continued. “I’m not abandoning these pokémon. They’re staying to fight for what they believe in and I feel that I need to respect that and back them up. Especially when they were willing to protect us.” He stared ahead, then to the pokémon, and then back to his mate.

She looked reasonably astounded. “Etire, you can show respect without staying to put yourself in danger.”

“No, it...” He began to search his mind and averted his eyes, bringing them back with a pondering expression. “It doesn’t feel right to take advantage of their alliance right now, while we’re obviously not under attack and just leave.” He flicked his head up, like a nod that pointed up instead of down. “Look. It’s three against...fifteen? That’s not right,” he added, shaking his head as if in sympathy. “Five is better odds.”

Rentana only stared at him, unsure what to say. She wanted to tell him that he was far too injured to attack, but she greatly admired his spirit and his newfound loyalty to those that needed it, and remained simply silent. She was decided that she would follow him no matter what he decided, and if he had already made up his mind, then that was what she was going to do as well. She wouldn’t have split off from him anyway; it was too dangerous to be amongst all these opponents by herself, and even if she did reach the tunnel’s mouth, she would be spotted and probably overrun, or at least chased and severed from everyone else. Reluctance to go through that kept her remaining, as well as her fondness for her mate. It was not an easy task, to defy reason and stick to honour and generosity, and she would much rather have paid her tribute to logic.

While the two sides of the clan crashed, Tarla took it upon herself to visit Dusty, who was slowly being helped up by the houndoom and guarded by Azure. She cursed to herself when she saw the flareon’s state, dismayed that she had to be in such a condition at the current time, as obviously that hindered them to a great extent. She frowned on their misfortune as she reached the flareon’s side and began questioning the houndoom. “Is she alright? Will she live?”

The houndoom, despite his worried expression, softened for a moment and snorted. “Of course she’ll live. It may be a puncture, but her heart’s not in her side.”

Tarla gave him a murky sneer as she looked the injured fire type over. “What are we gonna do with her?”

“The only thing we can do,” the houndoom responded. “Carry her until we can get her treated. Unless you or the psychic types over there – who, by the way, seem to be trapped – can magically heal her.”

“We’ll leave it up to natural pokémon ability,” Tarla responded, trying to put emotion aside. This seemed like a pokémon she wouldn’t get along with, so she tried to ignore him altogether. “How bad is the wound itself?”

“Not as bad as I initially thought,” he responded casually. “It’ll bleed like there’s no tomorrow, but it’s not deep enough to do serious damage without immediate help.” He swept his eyes quickly over her face. “She probably passed out from the shock more than anything. I would assume her body shut her mind down so she wouldn’t make it worse.”

Tarla was unsure if that was possible, but gave a nod and decided not to question it. “Good news...I think.”

“At least the ice slowed the bleeding...or kept it cold or something,” the houndoom muttered, eying the puncture wound, which bled with a mixture of clear and crimson fluid.

“I’m...not sure that was the best thing to do.” Tarla gave a quick cringe as she imagined how that would feel and then wondered how much good it did.

Both pokémon noticed as the flareon began to stir, and with a groan and a grunt, Dusty opened her eyes. “Ngh... It hurts like a *****,” she hissed grudgingly as she lifted her head, and Tarla was marginally surprised; even if she had woken, she had almost expected her not to talk.

“Are you...alright?” she questioned after ensuring that there was no immediate danger directly beside them. The clashing, roaring and shouting was daunting, and she kept expecting someone to break away from the crowd and inexplicably decide to attack them. It was unlikely and impractical, given how busy they were with Thunderquake’s half of the herd, but her mind obscured reasonability and paved a path for panic.

“I’m in a crap-load of pain...” the flareon rasped, trying to see past the tears her eyes leaked. Following the statement, she looked about, confused at the sight of the battle. “What the...? What’s with the civil war?”

“A rebel is to blame,” answered Zaion, and upon noticing his presence, Dusty gave a particular look. If he had been helping her then she was grateful, but she found it hard to determine what exactly she thought of the whole situation. Whatever she thought, it was dulled by the pain that pulsed through her mind and caused her to cringe. It was hard to think of anything in such a state.

***

Zaion explained the entire situation to me – Jaskore’s failure to listen to anybody but himself and Thunderquake’s belief in our party – and I shook my head, unsure what to think. Quickly I asked the name of the granbull, who I had forgotten, and he explained that I was “lucky” to hear it from him, considering he only knew through picking it up from one of the others who had mentioned it.

Attempting to blink out the pain, I tried to stand on my own, uttering to the houndoom to release me. However, my side rippled with pain, shrieking in response to the pressure I put on my back leg. The pain was excruciating, like some sort of freezing wave of jagged ice was slicing me in a single spot, cutting through my flesh without reserve. I knew there was ice in my side, but that was only part of the pain. It made it extremely uncomfortable, and in all honesty I wanted it out. The ice was beginning to burn my skin and the icicle itself was pressing against my flesh as I applied pressure. I braced myself and angled my body so the wound compressed a little, clenching my jaws as the ice slid out and dropped to the floor. The pain was odd and still uncomfortable, but I was much better off having it out.

Two rhyhorn broke away from the pack, both charging into each other as they ran to the wall I was next to, but further down. They had been braced against one another and proved that neither was stronger, so when they crashed into the wall, both were still forcing their weight against the other, the wall splitting a little as they collided with it. In response to the scene, I blinked a few times, noticing as a couple of geodude hopped back, only to rip small boulders growing from the ground and thrust them forward, as if they were being fired out of a cannon. They landed on the opposition, who shook it off after momentarily buffeted, and returned the favour by mirroring the action or by charging. I wondered what the fight could be about as I watched on, momentarily reminded of the ship.

The geodude reminded me of Roarake, who could have, for all I knew, belonged to this clan or another somewhere around these mountains once. It made me consider something: did Team Rocket sweep the wilderness in search of pokémon strong enough to take up residence amongst their rankings? It would have been tedious, but in order to form some basis for a strong army, I wouldn’t be surprised. Trainers already did it, although they generally veered from the most dangerous and heavily populated areas. These Rockets, on the other hand, had no limits and didn’t restrict themselves for the reason of power and overconfidence. I understood that Roarake himself had a trainer, but I had certainly seen other rock types on the ship who could easily have been wild before their imprisonment.

“We have to get out of here,” I heard Azure say, and weakly I nodded in full agreement. Watching the battle before me, it was easy to determine my wish for a course of action—flee!

“I’m all for Frosty’s decision,” I responded quickly, and the glaceon stared at me, bemused. I gave a shrug and a particular expression, to which she only frowned, trying to figure out why I’d called her Frosty. Really it was just to give her a nickname based on her ice type qualities. “Is there a way out?” Shortly after asking I glanced about, noticing a few exit tunnels to the sides of the walls up ahead.

“I can see three from here and I know there’s at least another two,” Tarla added, and I gave a short nod, cringing from the constant throb of my open wound. I tried not to focus on the many other parts of my body that were in more dulled agony, but agony nonetheless.

“Can’t we just go out the way we came?” I questioned, puzzled as to why we would have to take one of the suggested tunnels.

Tarla seemed to soften with realisation after finding a reason in her mind why we wouldn’t do so. I imagine she simply couldn’t find a reason after assuming there was one, and made a small noise of acknowledgement. “Yeah...we could.” She glanced behind us; a few metres away rested the entrance. “There were other tunnels to turn off into, weren’t there?” she asked, and I nodded, remembering that she hadn’t been with us underground.

“Wait,” Derino began, having listened to the entire conversation without interjecting at all. The others, including me, turned to him. “We are missing the psychic types.” He move his stern and inquisitive glare to the battle occurring down the other end of the room. There was absolutely no trace of either of them, and while I didn’t know them or their position at all, I imagined that they would probably have been a little frightened...and possibly trapped.

“We have to get them out,” Tarla stated, as if it was a fact that we had already planned it. I didn’t disagree, however, but obviously I wasn’t in a state to walk by myself, let alone battle. The idea would have been utterly ridiculous, but I suddenly cringed as I imagined that I might have to if the battle grew worse before we could retrieve the ralts evolutions.

All at once I lit up with an idea, wondering why I hadn’t thought of it beforehand. “Wait a minute,” I began, and Tarla, who had been rather intent on crossing the room and attacking her way through to her friends, stopped after a few paces and turned to me, looking a little isolated as she had broken away from our group. It made me a little nervous as I glanced to the brawling rock types, but tried not to focus on them. “Why can’t they just teleport?”

Tarla wasted no time in revealing to me the answer. “Etire can’t use it and Rentana’s not going to use it if it means only she can escape.”

“But...couldn’t she teleport with him?”

“Psychic types have...some sort of unspoken, unofficial rule,” Tarla began to answer, at first looking to be in a rush but soon changing to something somewhat calmer, yet still alert. “Teleporting yourself is like any other act. It can be used at the expense of little energy, but teleporting yourself plus another is far more costly.” She glanced to the clashing pokémon. “I doubt she has nearly enough energy to teleport both her and her mate out of there. Even a little while is a lot, especially when crossing a path of live creatures.”

I tried not to question it further, figuring that it made sense in a way that would probably never allow my brain to click in understanding, and, before she ran off, questioned her one last time. “Why can’t Etire use teleport too? He’s a ralts evolution, isn’t he?”

The altaria sighed through the nostrils of her closed beak, averting her eyes in frustration before returning to me, her impatience louder than her words. “It’s not as simple as just using it.” She glanced to Derino before she laid eyes on Azure. The eeveelution seemed to understand her silent meaning and began to pursue her; the two raced off toward the line of rock and ground pokémon while I stood there, a little perplexed. Before he ran off as well Derino faced me and continued the explanation.

“Etire specialises in physical attack and has been too long without mental attacks, or attacks that do not involve contact with his body to another’s, and thus his ability has diminished. He no longer has the ability to use many of his psychic abilities, teleportation included.” With that, the granbull tore from me and Zaion and thudded toward the battling pokémon. He came upon the battle, squeezing through the row closest to us, as they were our allies, and began attacking. Tarla and Azure both stuck to more tactical means and the former sprayed the foes with her dragonbreath as she stood to the side of the crowd while Azure rained them with shards of ice.

I watched with a neutral expression, trying to ignore the incessant pain. “Uhh...so what do we do?”

“Well you can’t do much. I’ll just have to wait here and protect you.”

I snorted in amusement with an accompanying chuckle, finding the prospect perhaps mockingly amusing. “Yeah. Right. So you’re just gonna stand here and guard me then?” The houndoom looked at me with a particular face and raised his brow. I released my smirk and felt my jolliness dwindle. “...You’re kidding.”

“Look at that wound,” he instructed, gesturing with his paw to the opening in my side. I glanced down to it, shrugging as I pretended its consistent weeping meant nothing. “You can’t go running around with something like that.”

I cringed, trying not to move as I considered his statement. “Yeah...heh, I guess not.” I groaned again and progressed into a lying position, completely unsure how to place myself to cause the least amount of pain. The constant throbbing was always there, of course, but it was made worse when I strained myself.

I watched with particular longing as my teammates fought the opposing pokémon, catching specific sight of Thunderquake, who, in particular, was ploughing through the pokémon around her, trying to get to Jaskore, or who I assumed was Jaskore (as most of those rhyhorn looked the same to me). She was specifically identifiable by the rearing fire in her I so highly approved of, and I assumed that Jaskore would be easy to spot based on his repulsion to sense and reason. This told me that he was probably going to be the rhyhorn using ground attacks on a flying type.

“Get the Rokonts!” boomed a rhyhorn from within the crowd to a teammate of theirs who was separate to the rest. “Look, the injured one. She lives! Finish her off!”

“Do you really think a Rokont would care enough about her fluff to have it so full?” I exclaimed, a little astounded by their ignorance. I moved my tail, remembering again that it was not full. I lowered my eyes halfway down my eyeballs in annoyance and returned my cringing gaze to the rock type, my stomach constricting as a ripple of pain began to pulse from the wound. I was confused why it had started to arc up again and lay down, horrified, as the pain began to intensify and spread. I quickly wondered if it was because the ice had been taken out and it was growing warm again.

I had no time to mention anything to Zaion as the stomping, roaring, rude pokémon powered our way with an aim to injure. The houndoom raced forward, surprisingly straight toward the charging pokémon. I couldn’t understand his actions, but was too focused on my pain to yell anything to him, and watched as he timed a leap to land on the rhyhorn’s front. Instantly he pushed off, the force of his jump making the rhyhorn’s head bounce down, before he flew over him. He landed behind the creature, turning quickly to deliver a sinister wave of dark energy which swept the ground until it washed over him, the radius large enough to swallow a diglett in its path and flow partway onto another rhyhorn in the crowd.

The one between us released a shriek of pain and I watched as, instead of the pokémon flying toward me with a lowered horn, he turned around, capturing the houndoom in his deathly glare and began to sweep the ground. I was marginally surprised he seemed to forget me, but figured that, when blinded by rage, there was nothing to stop a rhyhorn.

“Come on,” the fire and dark type teased, his tail whipping the air as he showed a toothy grin. His bared teeth was clearly some kind of hostile challenge. I knew that card; I enjoyed mockery mingled with animosity in battles.

“You will pay for your actions!” the rhyhorn roared, rearing back before charging toward him. Zaion only gave a look that ridiculed sympathy and worked like a charm as a tease.

Up ahead, Derino was flung from the crowd and smacked into the wall to the left of the room—the one I had been trapped between when the shield was on my other side and there was a charging predator stomping my way. He sunk quickly and caught himself on the ground, his head jerking up to glare at what I was partially sure was Jaskore. I had no idea where Thunderquake had gone, and with a sudden twinge in the pit of my stomach, I suddenly hoped she hadn’t been defeated by the rebels.

However, my relief was resumed when she charged from the crowd, flinging others aside, and tackled her rival from behind. He jerked away, slamming into the ground after a short ride through the air after she had flicked him off her front. “We were not finished!”

Removing my attention from the two brawling nearby, I looked ahead but couldn’t exactly make out what was happening with Tarla and the others, but within the instant, my attention had shifted to something of a much larger scale.

At first I wondered if one of the rhyhorn had used earthquake, but thought again, figuring that they would have to be really stupid to use it in a place such as this one, where the walls and roof could collapse. For a moment I thought it would make sense of the user was Jaskore. I thought that it must have been the case—until I witnessed the entire room express the similar confusion to what I was experiencing, and figured that the culprit must have been nobody in the room. Still, my scepticism and suspicion continued to rise as my body jittered in an undefined manner, watching as some of the geodude were carried across the floor a few steps before collecting themselves and trying to bounce off in a direction of their choice. It didn’t work, however, and it was soon clear that they were the ones affected most. It quickly worsened, the rumble beginning to vibrate at a rate that nearly threw the rhyhorn off balance. I felt my wound buzz with an uncomfortable sensation and cringed.

I continued to have no idea what was going on as the ceiling, piece by piece, began to shatter. Bits and pieces fell from above, the result sometimes small pebbles, and other times large boulders. It didn’t take long for the crowd to erupt with screams and calls, and they all began to separate into different tunnels on the other side of the room.

My heart was racing in my chest as I glanced frantically around, only able to see a shaky haze of stony grey and ochre. I tried to force myself to my paws, a rock wedging itself into the ground right beside me as I jumped, feeling the effects of the wound take hold as I blurted a reaction to the pain and began to limp across the room. A number of other pokémon were rumbling around, some of them charging past me to get through the entrance from which we came, disregarding me in the meantime and slamming my side, flinging me away. I ended on my back, and bellowed with pain as I rolled over and leapt back onto my paws, the thought of survival and care for my injury the only one on my mind.

Upon trying to search for a familiar face, namely Zaion, who had disappeared, a small rock struck my back leg. I ignored it, however, after catching sight of a lilac fuzz. It was racing toward me on four legs, and I realised that it was the granbull, his face determined as he came near enough for me to detect an expression. Once beside me, he hauled me over his shoulder and began to run toward a tunnel, his two legs horribly inefficient compared to how quickly he progressed on all-fours. I was rather surprised that the granbull had suddenly hauled me over his shoulder, but didn’t complain; I had no other way to escape so I was going to take what I was given.

The thought of us being crushed by plates from the ceiling, which were tumbling down faster than before, was absolutely petrifying, and I hardly noticed as debris clung to the rim of my wound, some slipping inside. Despite how hard the normal type was working, we didn’t make it before the ground nearby suddenly exploded with rocks, some striking the remaining rhyhorn nearby who were still struggling to escape. A gigantic figure emerged from the ground, but in the vibrations and storm of rocks, all I could see were giant blobs of silver. I could only determine that it was a steelix once it stopped as we tried to continue. A tail swiped over us and slammed into a wall, rock splitting and spraying overhead. I released a noise of panic and felt myself instinctively struggle against Derino’s grip, the fear in my mind building.

I realised we were headed directly toward the exit that Tarla and Azure had taken, who had I seen disappear while Derino had been on his way over to me, and wondered if they had just…disregarded me. Not only was it a matter of saving the injured, but it was also that they had neglected me as a companion, and more importantly...as part of their colony. I under stood I was new, and perhaps that made me somewhat disposable, but there wasn’t even an acknowledging nod in my direction.

No matter how prevalent the thought attempted to be, it dissipated to nothing as the steelix threw a boulder in our way, completely obscuring the exit. I screamed in shock, scrambling down from the normal type while scratching his thick hide and slamming into the floor, not thinking as I tried to collect myself and immediately raced toward the nearest tunnel, which was also blocked off by a boulder.

“No!” I droned, feeling tears of fear and angst gathering faster than I could have registered. The wound in my side burned furiously, and if I had no accompanying reason in that moment, I would have stopped to tend to it. The pain of the agitated wound was excruciating and I knew I couldn’t stand it much longer. The sudden thought of failing to retain my consciousness and slipping back into a comatose-like state was newly overpowering, the shock of the thought driving me to push myself harder to ensure I was at least somewhat safer if it did happen.

The granbull, out of impulse, slammed into the side of the steelix, distracting the creature and his great bulk as I scampered across the floor, tearing at the ground to propel myself forward, my limbs aching with the sheer effort it took me to reach one or two of the tunnels not blocked by boulders this end of the room. Another rock tumbled down from above, bouncing off the wall and separating a pace away from me, fragments of the rock striking my face as I fled from it, escaping into a tunnel at the pressing demands of Derino, as he continued his attempt to hold off the attacker.

Immediately after my half tail disappeared through the entrance, another boulder slammed behind me. After thinking that was the end of it, my brain registered that the boulder was too small to jam the exit, and with the shock of horror and fear, I watched as it began to roll toward me. I screamed, dashing as best I could in my condition down the tunnel as the noise from the room slowly began to fade to nothing but silence. My legs kept racing and I was positive I was going to trip over my paws at the rate I was running when the boulder slammed to a stop once it hit a dip in the tunnel’s roof which enclosed the space too drastically for it to be able to fit through any longer.

Once I noticed it had stopped, I came to an instant halt and threw myself on the ground, my heart pounding, head drowning in thoughts and feelings, and wound hammering my side. I couldn’t understand how such a pain existed; it became my entire string of thoughts as I remained on my belly, groaning and tensing different muscles at once, as if that would somehow help to alleviate the pain. I came to realise that nothing would and felt myself constantly spit up blubbering cries, accompanying tears streaming down my fur and dropping off the end of stands and onto the floor.

I lay there, utterly exhausted, and wondered how on earth I was meant to continue. I wasn’t even sure how to continue or where to go, and what to do when there. The festering wound was the only thing my mind would turn to, and distracting it proved absolutely useless. It was times like this when I wished I was still with Master… She would know what to do.

The fact that I couldn’t reach her, that she was another impossible fantasy I could only dream of being by the side of, fighting for again, was haunting. She was my trainer, the one who raised me to be as strong as I was and who taught me morals and values…and we had been torn from one another. I had never imagined anything could have ripped us apart – not even the strength of a thousand-day storm – but this time, the winds had simply been too strong. The thought of her made me realised that it was unlikely I would even encounter her again…ever. I had been taken.

My face pressed against the ground as I stared into darkness. My body didn’t move as I felt the continual pulsing of the wound, which felt as if it was climbing my body and flaring in unrelated places as well, and began to feel the other injuries I had acquired both during the travels as in the recent battle, even if they were lesser. The tears wetting my face began to cool, and I felt it puddle around my cheek. The blood from my wound was causing a warm trail down the side of my belly which met with the floor to pool, and tried to remain with my eyes closed. I didn’t know what I hoped to achieve, but the moment’s depression was too overwhelming. I needed rest. I needed calm.

[Suicune's Fire]

Chapter Twenty-nine: All Shapes and Sizes

Stirring from a sleep he was due to wake from, a houndoom groaned, rising to his paws and inhaling. When he exhaled, his eyes squinted and he cringed, clearly uncomfortable on an unfamiliar bed of pebbles. Pushing himself up, he stared around, seeing mostly darkness, with a few discernible features here and there. When he looked over his left shoulder, he suddenly jolted, for a large powder blue figure obscured his vision. The quagsire looked on with a placid smile, his large paws out in front, resting against the front of his body. He did nothing but stand as the houndoom raised a curious brow.

“Well…this is a surprise.” He looked away, remembering there was nothing he could accurately see, before he blinked and suddenly paid heed a recurring thought. ‘Dusty…’

The fire and dark type shot up, racing back the way he came. He heard the quagsire pounding after him shortly behind. It didn’t take him more than a few steps to come to an overflowing spillage of rocks, dense dirt and similar assorted debris. He came to a quick halt and stared, completely unsure how to react. It didn’t take long for surprise to set in as he found that that they way they had come was blocked off. He and the quagsire were trapped on the other side of the rock slide. The realisation was not a pleasant one, as he was less than happy to have been separated from the flareon in her rather delicate state.

He remained defiant, eyes firmly set on the pile as he compressed his jaws, starting to scrape the earth with his claws. His mind was reluctant to admit defeat as he continued to stare. His thoughts whirred as he tried to imagine what kind of state the flareon in which the flareon, mentally, must have been. Surely she would have been mulling over reasons why she was abandoned – not just by him, but by anybody else who failed to come to her aid – and, as he was reluctant to admit, may not be able to carry on. Her condition was far from enabling her to properly travel, and he worried with a heavy heart what she would probably have to make it through the caves by herself.

‘Damn,’ he thought to himself with a bitter edge. His lip twitched in a snarl, his tail flicking in agitation. ‘She’s in serious danger if she’s on her own.’ He glared to the sides, barely able to see in the minimal light. ‘Who knows what kind of pokémon could be lurking in the dark?’

He growled at the thought of being ushered through the cave involuntarily; he remembered clearly that when he had made a dash to the nearest tunnel, his paws had stopped him and he turned on his paw-pads, trying his hardest to see over the crowd as he spotted the flareon on the opposite side of the room. He had tried to call, but the massive influx of stampeding rhyhorn had completely swept him from his sturdy stance and carried him through the tunnel with mingled shouts and surprising speed. He had struggled against the force of their shoves and runs, but when he slipped down, he was only battered and thrown between the pokémon either side of him until he was again picked up by a charging rhyhorn. One of them accidentally knocked the side of the passage before it opened up into another room and caused some of the earth to collapse from above, along with thick boulders and other locks lodged in the composition. He was sure that some had gotten trapped on the other side of the mass, but wasn’t able to deduce before he was tossed aside and lost consciousness.

He hadn’t seen the quagsire follow him into the cave, and assumed that he must have been caught with the charging pokémon amidst the confusion. Zaion was glad he woke to find him there, however, for he would not have wanted to find himself alone in a habitat for ground and rock types. If more rhyhorn, or any other rock or ground type, tried to attack them, he was confident that the pokémon beside him could deal serious damage and ultimately frighten away everybody who aimed them. The last thing Zaion needed was another brawl; he was positively exhausted after the exertion he had warranted and knew that the quagsire was likely feeling the same. Deciding that making conversation would be the best way to establish any kind of bond they would require for travelling with one another, the houndoom turned around and asked for his name.

The pokémon only looked back, his face unchanging. Zaion waited a moment, confused by the water and ground type’s silence, until he opened his wide mouth and responded with, “Quaaaagsiiiirre.”

Zaion’s brow rose, his eyes widening a little as he stared with great perplexity. “O…kay,” he uttered, clearing his throat. “You’re either with an inability to produce actual words, or…your sense of humour is terrible.” He chuckled at the start part of his sentence, holding his breath in his throat as he waited for a response. His expression was a request for the latter, no matter how horrible the humour was, but released his breath as a sigh of disappointment, closing his eyes to think. “What are you…a slow learner? Mentally challenged, maybe?”

He was only met with a continual dopey smile. When Zaion tore away from him, deeming him rather useless to try and communicate with, he heard a, “Quaaag.”

Groaning with annoyance, the houndoom lowered his head, allowing it to hang from between his shoulders. “Great.”

-

***

-

Leaning against the side of the cave wall, a figure groaned, clutching at several wounds either bleeding or pulsing with the future effects of a bruise. The pain trickled into places he hadn’t realised were injured beforehand, and with an inward whine, he wondered why he had managed to escape down the passage which nobody else followed. On the other side of the small cavern sat a rhyhorn, breathing shallowly as its consciousness remained not with its body. With a soft bite of his lip, the krinar hoped that the rhyhorn was, in case, on his side and not Jaskore’s. “The nerve of that guy…” he grumbled, wondering what had to have been so bad about Thunderquake. As for as he could tell, the rhyhorn was a suitable leader who was more than capable of leading a herd. He wondered why the rebels had formed in opposition of her leadership.

Tunnels leading from the room veered off into several different directions, but the way he came certainly wasn’t an option. Stampeding rock types were not healthy for the caves, as he had witnessed constant falling stalactites as he had been admitted into the passage. It was only half-voluntary, too, as he had thought Rentana was following. For some reason she didn’t follow, which weighed heavily on him. With nobody to support him when he walked, he knew he was going to have a hard time making it anywhere. As well as that, he knew that she would be absolutely horrified to learn of their separation.

He sighed. ‘Sometimes I wish she could just…do more on her own,’ he told himself. He gazed up at the ceiling, understanding her actions, but misunderstanding why she couldn’t change every once in a while. She didn’t need him to survive. ‘...At least, I hope not. If something were to happen to me, then...’ His thoughts dissipated before he could finish them.

On the other side of the cavern floor, down a slope that curled around the circular room, the rhyhorn began to stir. Etire watched and braced himself, hoping that, if the rhyhorn was a rebel, that he or she would simply ignore him and move on. After all, there was no point in attacking the enemy if the commander wasn’t around. At least...Etire didn’t think so. His eyes went wide with the thought.

Lifting himself to his feet, the rhyhorn shook off and began to glance around, spotting Etire on the top of the rise, which panned out flat for a few metres before the drop to the floor threatened anybody who came too close. The krinar watched as the rhyhorn’s eyes were firmly fixed, and finally the pokémon lowered his head, beginning to stalk up the slope.

“No,” Etire groaned, more inconvenienced than frightened. “What...what are you doing? Come on; this is nonsense. I’m a cripple for Raikou’s sake!”

“Should that matter?” the rhyhorn grumbled, hardly a hint of maliciousness in his tone.

“Well...yes!” He raised his arm, wincing as he felt it pulse. “Your leader isn’t here, so there’s no need to attack me. Please? I can’t even fight back in this condition. That’s not a fair win.”

“It’s a fair extermination,” answered the rhyhorn, closing in on him.

“But...why would you want to exterminate me?”

“I don’t care for chitchat, krinar,” he hissed, stopping at the top of the slope.

“Neither do I, usually,” he responded, although the moment it came out of his mouth, he questioned it with a tilted head. He watched as the pokémon came closer and swallowed. “Hey, you better watch it. I am part fighting type, don’t forget.”

“Means nothing if you can’t fight.”

“Claws off,” a third voice grumbled, a growl echoing through the small room. Etire, who was rather startled, glanced down to find another rhyhorn situated in the entrance to one of the passages they had a choice of going through. The rhyhorn, clearly female, was not Thunderquake, but looked about as determined.

“A saviour?” questioned the psychic and fighting type, peering down at the pokémon.

“Come on. Try your horn on a real target, you wuss,” the female baited, turning around to wag her tiny tail at the pokémon of the same species. In response, the rhyhorn flared with fury, his body rearing around as he lost all trace of interest in the cripple against the wall, and began to charge down the slant and directly at the opposing rhyhorn.

Etire watched with interest as the pokémon clashed, their faces twisted with anger and determination; the female’s included teasing mockery, which clearly enraged her opponent. It wasn’t long before the rebel tossed the female aside, and she slid a small distance before aiming at him and propelling her way through the room. Instead of avoiding the attack he merely set his head down and sped forward, and the two collided again. Etire suddenly wished that he had more access to his mental ability to attack in order to help his defender and cursed as the two fought to finish on top.

A small quake shook the room with unexpected timing, the two fighting suddenly breaking off their attacks and surveying the ceiling. Etire was doing the same, panic beginning to install itself into his system. He attempted to keep it suppressed and tried mentally mapping his way out of the cave without gravely injuring himself. There had been foot holes in the side of the raised rock that he was atop, and knew he could simply descend that to the floor if he had the strength. Presently the idea was insane, however, and instead of successfully coming up with a new plan, his thoughts were absorbed by the thirst which had been nagging him for a considerable time. His tongue was drier than it should have been, his cheeks unable to emit the appropriate measure of saliva to keep his mouth moist. His throat was in a similar position, and each time he swallowed, he felt both sides of his oesophagus peel away from each other, rather than slide apart. The feeling was less than comfortable, but the ability to do anything in response was severely cut off.

“Krinar!” shouted the female rhyhorn from below, and he looked to her, surprised to find that she had broken away from the other one. He had fled down a tunnel, the same one the female had emerged from, and Etire guessed that she again wished to travel the same path, but with an extra this time. “Get down from there!”

“I can’t!” he called back, and to that the rhyhorn made a face of confusion. “I’m a cripple! Half my limbs were damaged earlier.” He glanced warily up to the ceiling, watching as bits of stone crumbled.

The armoured pokémon looked rather conflicted and made a move to head for the slope only a few paces from where she stood before she decided properly and rumbled up it, arriving by his side in no time. She nudged one of his arms over her head, ensuring she didn’t injure him with her horn, and encouraged him to stand. Although he whined with the effort, he was able to stand and lean against her. She checked that he was fastened and they began the descent.

At one point, the rhyhorn nearly slipped as one of her front feet rolled on a few small rocks, but, with a jerk that the krinar was force forward during, she righted herself and grudgingly apologised. She and the krinar made it out of the room with little injury; a few smallish rocks had landed on Etire’s pelt, and whatever struck the rock type simply bounced off with failure to cause any sort of harm. For a moment, Etire felt a pang of jealousy for a pokémon so unaffected by most attacks. He had never exactly thought the idea that his fighting moves could cause them severe damage was peculiar, when a normal hit or punch wouldn’t have done a thing, until that moment. Thinking on it for a while, he came to the conclusion that fighting types had a special ability to control the force of the attack to strike what’s vulnerable in a rock type, as opposed to mindlessly battering their impenetrable armour. He had no idea how accurate the assumption was, but desired not to trouble himself over such things.

His thoughts turned to other matters once they passed into another room that harboured a few different levels with edges that looked artificially crumbled – a result of the small group of rhyhorn’s clambering experiments after each pokémon piled through the tunnel, Etire figured – and they blundered down. The psychic type felt rather useless as he continued, unable to properly keep himself upright and slipping down. He was caught by his helper’s shoulder and he looked to her gratefully but said nothing.

They progressed, the krinar keeping himself quiet when he stood on sharp stones, until they reached a point in the elongated passage where the shaking was hardly present. Behind them, the last of the larger rocks dropped and collapsed into a stony heap, and they both sighed with relief. Etire was set down and leant up against the wall while seated, tilting his head back with his eyes closed. He panted repeatedly, feeling the dryness of his throat even more now. He sighed, discontent with the fact that there didn’t appear to be a speck of water about. He only hoped they would come across some sort of underground pool.

The rhyhorn was standing a few paces away, watching the minor destruction that the passage had caused itself. She turned to the sound of the male’s voice. “Where did you come from?”

Her mind didn’t quite comprehend his meaning. “What?”

“You’re the only one here. What happened to all the others?” he inquired, a little dumbfounded at the absence of other rhyhorn and geodude.

“The confusion drove most away, I’m guessing,” she responded calmly. “I know that every pokémon went for the passage they were closest to, or followed everyone else through what they probably presumed was the safest route. I saw your kirlia friend escape through a tunnel after being ushered by a number of my kind, while you were left behind.” She eyed him cautiously. “Did she abandon you?”

“No,” he chuckled lightly, “she could never do that. She told me she would quickly assess the passages to deduce which was the safest before she was going to choose one for us, but once she stepped out before the entry, the others pushed her through. I tried to follow her, but the same thing happened to me, although through a different tunnel. I wouldn’t have been able to walk all this way, anyway...” He glanced to his right, in the direction of the room he had previously been. “I dragged myself up the slope to avoid thugs like that guy.” He nodded his head toward the passage to the next room, assuming the other rhyhorn slipped through there.

“A futile effort, clearly,” she responded, bobbing her head in understanding. The krinar waited a moment before nodding.

“Do you have a clue of where we’re headed?”

“Nope,” the rhyhorn answered factually, glancing toward the exit. “But I have travelled these paths before. Not these exact ones, but once we get to a certain point, I might be able to lead us to the surface.”

“Good to have you.” Etire figured that, if he wasn’t torn to pieces by that first rhyhorn, without her, he wouldn’t have been able to make his way through to the next room while he ceiling collapsed around him.

She gave a neutral smile.

-

***

-

The hairs on the pokémon’s back remained erect as she and her fluffy friend travelled through the caves, extremely alert and eyes flicking about in preparation for any sudden attacks that could be directed their way. Rhyhorn and geodude lined the walls, some up and ready to fight, others exhausted and wishing to rest. The ones that were on their bellies watched grudgingly as the two Ussters passed, and a few up ahead showed no interest, while a duo rearing to go broke from the wall and began charging. The large bird pokémon shouted warnings as the quadruped braced herself and felt a momentary rush before she built the required ice and fired it, watching as it dowsed the two rhyhorn and ended with shrieks. One of them blinked repeatedly and lost complete focus as he realised that his horn had been frozen solid, and charged blindly right past them as he eyed the ice. The other came to a halt and backed away, sticking to the wall of the narrow passage while the two passed, their backs awkwardly trying to face one another.

Walking sideways was a new concept to Azure, and as she tried to do so, her many paws continuously forgot their place and made her stumble. Eventually she resorted to walking normally while the altaria by her side waked backwards. Their combined efforts got them through to the next room, which looked to have few inhabitants, to their relief. There hadn’t been a large amount in the previous room, but, were it not for their split allegiances, their combined numbers could have formed a small force—one that two pokémon, one with a number of disadvantages, were not equipped to handle.

Up ahead, as Tarla turned around to face the same direction her legs took her, Azure caught sight of a rhyhorn she recognised: Thunderquake. As she began to approach, the leader looked their way and seemed to be in the middle of indecision. The two glanced to each other, trying to decide if they should speak with her or not. “...She might know a way out,” Tarla reasoned, and Azure, although hesitant, agreed. “Excuse me, can you tell us the way out?”

The rock and ground pokémon steadied her gaze warily. She broke away from the company she had been conversing with and trudged towards them. She straightened her shoulders and looked to relax a little, her plates of armour fitting nicely together. Her small judgemental eyes studied those before her. “Is your purpose true?”

Azure wanted to roll her eyes, but Tarla kept herself composed. “Yes. We have come this way because our colony was attacked by three pokémon believed to be members of the Rokont Organisation. A small party including myself left to find where these felons resided after one of the captives told us that their hideout was in these upcoming mountains.” She looked up, almost as if she was about to gesture to them, only to realise they were not within her view. “We only wish to pass through and find our way through those mountains, to that hideout.”

The rhyhorn considered her words, but even if she was sceptical, Tarla knew that she was not inclined to attack them after she believed their words back in the cavern. She watched her draw a breath. “It is said that they have a settlement in the mountains, yes, but I have not heard from them in a number of weeks. Months, even.”

Tarla’s brow dropped. “What do you mean, heard from them?”

“I use the term lightly and perhaps inaccurately,” she sneered. She then averted her gaze before continuing. “I cannot begin to explain what they have put my herd through. My father, Tynor, was a great pokémon capable of many things. He was...killed during the largest battle our herd has ever been a part of. The likes of a ruthless torterra was simply too much for his bulk to handle.” She trailed off, her face rather stripped of emotion as she stared at rock lining the walls. “Before then, there were regular attacks on Rumblerock, our home and the name of these parts. Members were killed without reason.” She glared at the dragon and flying type, and she shivered, suddenly understanding the full blow these pokémon had taken under the cruel fist of the Rokonts. “My father wanted to put a stop to the unwarranted violence. He made an attack on their base, leaving me behind in order to keep me from harm. Consequently I do not know the location of this hideout. He and a number of the herd returned, but not without permanent scars, both physically and emotionally. Over half the soldiers he took were either killed or knocked unconscious, probably later to be taken prisoner.

“They returned for revenge, or, as my father had uttered to me as the onslaught began outside our den, they had come to seal our fates.” The words washed down Tarla’s back, erecting many small bumps in response. “...He was killed that day, along with countless friends and foes alike. The day was...an epic tragedy. The opposition withdrew merely to spite us and demonstrate their power...without the need to wipe us all out. Perhaps we were no longer a thorn in their paws, but merely a petal to be crushed at any chosen time.” The rhyhorn’s face remained as if she had betrayed no information, but the words spoken clearly opposed that.

Tarla was shocked and continued to look at her, a face of sympathy reflecting her thoughts. She flashed to Azure, who seemed relatively expressionless, and wasn’t sure what she was thinking.

“Do you understand our reaction to your presence? Was it not understandable that we suspected malicious intent after experiencing similar things with a sinister group you could have easily been a part of?” she scoffed, allowing her brows to shape a sort of disgust. “Rokont parties are composed of assorted pokémon to cover all weaknesses and strengths. How do you think we would have reacted, given the assumption, which, as you can see, was entirely legitimised?”

The two shared a quick glance before returning their eyes. “It is entirely understandable,” Tarla reassured. “...Deepest apologies.”

Thunderquake only shook her head and snorted, averting her gaze. “Save them for someone who needs them.”

Azure threw a look which could be accompanied by a scoff, indicating the ungratefulness of the rock and ground type, but Tarla only let her sympathy drain away. “You said...that these areas are called Rumblerock.”

“Yes,” she began immediately, “we are in Rumblerock Pass.”

“Does that mean...this land is your territory?”

“No. My herd does not own the entire province of Rumblerock, but occupy a mere section of it. The extent was larger before...before my father was murdered.” She heaved a sigh and turned around again. “You ask if I know the way out. Yes and no. My herd and I have a rough idea of a general direction, but not a specific path.”

“These rhyhorn are your herd? Not...the traitors?” wondered Azure, glancing at the few in the room but remembering the larger number in the passage they had crossed through. Thunderquake nodded. “Why are half of them giving us those looks? They’re on your side, aren’t they?”

“Is a free mind a foreign concept to you?” she queried, her eyes accusatory as she eyed the glaceon over.

“N...no,” she began, a little taken aback. “I just...thought...”

“Many of them understand you are not Rokonts. Many of them still blame you for what you have caused. I am one of those many, but I will not refuse to aid you.”

“Thank you,” Tarla said, giving a small nod. “It is appreciated.”

“It is not from the goodness of my heart,” the rhyhorn added, dipping her head and turning it on its side a little, her expression stern, as if to warn them that they had no warrant to believe they had been spared out of understanding. “If we do not help you, you will wander around this pass for a time much longer than we wish for you to stay. The closer you are the us, the more harm you can do.” She narrowed her eyes a small amount. “Understand this.”

“We understand,” Tarla responded, nodding compliantly, as if expecting no more and no less. “Even so, any help you provide us with is still greatly appreciated. Whatever the reason you choose to help.”

“Yes, well,” began the pokémon, turning herself around again, “just ensure you don’t attract more danger before we can be rid of you.”

Azure looked at Tarla, a little exhausted, and both shrugged to one another. They could see that the leader of the herd was quite justified, but at the same time, neither of them was looking forward to their treatment on the road out of Rumblerock Pass.

-

***

-

My grogginess revealed the world to me as how it had been before I fell unconscious. Immediately the beat of my wound pulsed in my ears and my brain pounded in protest against the injury. I groaned at the pain, extremely uncomfortable as I tried to shift. I realised with minor horror that I was pressing against the wound, and made an effort to roll over. I knew that it had probably acquired dirt and probably a number of other nasty things that weren’t going to help in the time that I had gained it to where I was now, but that quickly escaped part of my notice as hurried chatter sounded nearby. I could hear the quiet murmuring of a pokémon, and whoever they were, they were nearby.

My head shooting up, I surveyed the area, only to spot a shadow in another passage a little ways down, where a tunnel veered off. The figure was causing her – by the sounds of it – shadow to appear and then disappear, and I came to the conclusion that she was pacing. It certainly wasn’t the figure of a rhyhorn, or any of the other ground types, so I forced out a breath of air and took another, hoping it was one of the colony members.

“H-hey,” I called, surprised at the weakness in my voice. I coughed unsteadily and felt my breath catch a few times, trying to gain a steadier flow before I tried again. “Hey!”

The shadow stopped and I could only see the head. Obviously the pokémon was surprised by my calling, and had immediately come to a halt at the sound of my voice. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

“Hello?” I coughed again. “I...I need help...!”

Slowly the shadow grew until a figure rounded the corner with it, her footsteps light and slow as she came into view. I was a little surprised how defensive she looked, but all wonder vanished as I noticed how battered she was. Her white skirt, which fanned out in separate sections to create an image that reminded me a little of an ivory flower, was dirtied and a little torn, while her legs were scattered with a few cuts. Her eyes looked positively worn, but what surprised me the most as the fact that she...was frightened. When I thought about it, the prospect wasn’t peculiar at all, but the look in her eyes nearly frightened me. She looked...almost mad with fear and loss.

“Are you...okay?”

“You’re the flareon,” she stated, her voice shaky and small. “You got that injury.”

I looked at her and cringed, trying not to show any pain as my body began aching from the odd position I had formed on the cavern floor. “And you are...?”

She continued to look at me, her head jolting in tiny, tiny movements in different directions, almost as if she were showing odd signs of coldness. “Rentana.”

The kirlia twitched continuously, and for a moment I was sure she was about to burst into tears. Her blinking made me wonder if she had something in her eyes, but I figured that it could have been anything. “Are you...alright?”

“No,” she told me immediately, the wavering in her voice a sure sign that she had diagnosed herself accurately. She tilted her head upwards but kept her eyes on me, as if she was restraining tears, and continued to watch me. “My mate was lost.”

I gave a small frown, turning myself in a way that corrected my posture. “What...do you mean?” I asked slowly, sure that she couldn’t have meant that he had died.

“We were separated,” she said shakily. “I...was...separated from him. He is... I don’t know...where he is.”

I was a little shocked by her response, unable to fathom how such a thing could possibly put her in such a state. “But you...know we’ll meet up with him later, right? Along with all the others, once we get to the surface?”

“If I pray,” she began, swallowing her saliva as she focused somewhere else in the room, “maybe...maybe we’ll return to one another.”

My face twisted with some form of misunderstanding and confusion, and I stared at her with clouded eyes. I was rather confused how she was such a wreck, for the simple reason that she had been separated from someone. I nearly snorted in amusement; not even I had broken down so heavily when I had been separated from those I treasured, and I considered myself quite emotional.

I cringed, feeling another thump of pain from my wound. It made me tense and I remembered that it probably had dirt slip into it in the confusion of the steelix attack. With a small jolt, I realised that the granbull, whatever his name had been, was still fighting it...or, at least, that’s what I assumed. The gigantic creature was frighteningly huge, and the fact that he was trapped in the same room as it was positively petrifying. With a sudden sickening feeling, I realised...he may not come out of that cavern. That may have been his last battle. His last breath. The odd thing was, he saved me at his expense, a pokémon he didn’t even know. For all he knew, I could have been the one to doom Luck.

Turning to the kirlia in a small burst of anger, I shouted, “Pull yourself together!” Silence followed my order, and Rentana kept her eyes planted on mine, wavering with some sort of accompanying fear. All her fear was beginning to frustrate me; if she was capable of lasting on her own, then I would understand, but she seemed highly distracted and emotionally lost without this krinar. For a moment I wondered if she was under an attract spell or something. It wasn’t uncommon for pokémon to know how to execute. “You can’t base your entire emotional wellbeing on this guy. He’s not your lifeblood.”

Her eyes, firstly full of apprehension and soon transforming into muted rage, were beginning to eat at me. I was uncomfortable under her glare. “He is everything to me!” she hissed, her posture suddenly not slumping.

At first I was a little shocked, but when I realised what I had done, I cleared my throat and tried again. “He’s just a male. You don’t need a male to survive, you know.”

“I need him to survive!” She seemed to writhe with frustration, as if I was missing something crucial.

“No—you need your heart and your head to survive. This guy needs his as well, not yours.”

“We are different,” she growled, referring to me and her.

“Yes. You’re not the same pokémon, the same being, so why would you physically need him to live?” I questioned, still confused by the notion. As far as I knew, there would be no reason why a mated pokémon couldn’t simultaneously be their own individual. I certainly had no intention of ‘melding’ myself with whoever I ended up mated with. Paired with that thought was the known possibility that I didn’t even need a mate to survive. So unless my trainer wanted it, and in which case I would need to be pretty close to the male, I would have no reason to bear pups. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to; I just had no particular interest in it for now. I would have preferred to continue travelling with my trainer than anything. I forgot my momentary tangent and focused again on the kirlia. “Come on. Stop thinking about him for a while.”

We stared at one another for a short while longer, contemplation mingled with pain layering her face as she slumped and downcast her crestfallen expression. “I...” she breathed, unable to finish what she had intended to tell me as she continued to rest her eyes upon the cavern floor.

Once I hobbled a few paces past her, I stopped, the wound in my side searing. I pretended to stop only out of concern, which was half the reason anyway, and turned my glance toward her bent body. “Come on,” I repeated, softer this time. “We need to get moving.” When that did nothing, I added, “...The sooner we escape here, the sooner you find your mate again.” She responded to that, of course, rising and righting herself on her tip-toes. She still faced the other way, however. “What was his name again...?”

“Etire,” she responded immediately, finally turning to meet me. When I saw her face, I was a little surprised. It was as if she had put on some kind of mask. She had concealed the emotion she previously showed, only to display a face of focused neutrality. I was a small amount concerned when I realised that I couldn’t, in fact, make out any sort of emotion at all. She had completely sealed it off.

Making a small noise of acknowledgement, I turned back, pausing before I completely faced the direction leading out of the cave. Taking another step was surprisingly difficult, and I nearly buckled over at the shock of the sudden pain the wound caused. With an inward groan, I concluded that it was probably going to start bleeding again—if it even stopped, that was. I could feel dried, crusty blood on my belly and understood that there would probably be more by the time we stopped to rest again.

Exiting the cavern, the next room opened up into a small expanse of seemingly nothing, which quickly led us into the next one, which was similar but far larger. The room stretched on for an impressive time until another section joined up at the end. There was no small passage this time; the end of the room opened immediately up to another, the likes of which I couldn’t properly see from so far away. Based on the fact that I couldn’t make much out, I figured that it must have sloped upwards and past the opening, which wasn’t as large as the room’s width and which hung down a bit, blocking my view of the next room.

Figuring there was no way to find out but to continue, I took a hesitant step into the wide-open room. I was a little confused by the cavern’s appearance, however, as the ceiling was lowered to create some kind of enclosed space. It was long and wide, but the confines of the room regarding height were not at all generous. I could comfortable stand and lift my ears without problem, but I knew that any pokémon twice my height would have had trouble standing upright.

Curiously I continued, head lowered in as my leg jerked in its awkward limp each step, and surveyed the surrounding area. I was almost expecting predators to leap out from nowhere, and as I continued, the almost inaudible sound of the kirlia’s feet on rock following, I heard an unfamiliar groan. Wildly I whipped my head about, turning around, until I spotted a stray rhyhorn in the corner of the room which I hadn’t noticed while passing through the entrance. The pokémon was waking, so I saw no sense in lowering my voice.

“RENTANA!” I shouted in shock, feeling my leg muscles tense, which involuntarily agitated my wound. “There’s—look! It’s a rhyhorn. What do we do?” I hissed, understanding that my condition was hardly one fit for battle, and hers, although weakened in a different way, was not a large amount better. As well as mentally, I knew she was physically worn as well. The shield she had erected and held earlier must have cost her a lot of her energy.

She looked to me casually, her eyes calm but a light frown of disapproval on her face. “Pull yourself together,” she smirked sourly, and I recoiled a little, somewhat amused by the words which ricocheted back to strike me in the face, but also surprised. I hadn’t expected her to be any kind of cheeky, and on top of that, I was left to assume that she had used them against me because the rhyhorn wasn’t a threat. However, I was yet unsure.

“But he’s—”

“Not the enemy,” she assured, turning to him and approaching on light feet. “Up,” she commanded, and he looked at her, a little wary before leaping to his hefty feet. His rocky armour clunked together as he did so, and with eyes of fear and alarm, he watched me unsteadily. “We won’t attack you,” she confirmed, and he continued to stare, completely sceptical of her claim.

“But...but you’re—”

“No longer fighting the opposition,” she interjected, and I raised an eyebrow in response. She was seemingly keen to interrupt those who were talking.

“Wait,” I began, realising what she meant, “is he not part of Jaskore – or whatever his name is – ...his followers?”

The rhyhorn threw me a stern glare. “I am not,” he growled. “I was just...wary. And...” He raised his gaze to Rentana, his eyes displaying sure signs of minor guilt and a little embarrassment. However, it was all shone through a stony face.

“Oh...” I began, nearly snorting in minor amusement. “You, uh...had a fall-in.”

“I freaked out,” the rhyhorn stated firmly, his voice hardened by embarrassment and the need to defend himself.

“Hey, hey, I get it,” I began, a grin on my face as I closed my eyes and turned away, half-tail swaying. I could only imagine his face. “We all make mistakes.”

He only snorted in response. I understood. He didn’t want to be disturbed. He was a lone mightyena, and I was fine with that. As well as that, I was mocking him, but I dismissed the thought and looked to the other end of the room. I was still deciding what I thought about its massive extent...it wasn’t that large, but it would take at least a few minutes to reach the other side. I was unsure if it meant more room for freedom and more area for space around us in case we were ambushed, or whether the space was a bad thing. If we were ambushed, they could surround us with ease. It was a rather uncomfortable thought and I tried not to think of it. There were no tunnels along the walls...or very few, anyway, and although I imagined they could probably work as perfect routes for a sneak attack, I also knew that I was aware, and if it had to come to that...I could always use my flamethrower. I tried to ignore the fact that fire was weak to rock types and spending energy of any kind may have led me to even more pain.

I turned to the kirlia. “We going?” I questioned.

“Yes,” she answered immediately, gracefully stroking past the rhyhorn. She proceeded without me as I stilled myself and eyed the rock and ground pokémon. He was evidently uncomfortable with it.

“What’ve you got to do?”

“Uhh...nothing?” he answered, and I gave a few nods.

“Well...do you wanna come with us?” In all honesty, I had my and the kirlia’s best interests at heart, since a rhyhorn would be far more likely to be able to repel any enemies, and he looked to be in a fitter state than both me and the psychic type fused.

The question caught him off guard and he remained still for a moment, the kirlia pausing to turn to him, probably interested in his answer. “No.”

My face turned sour. “What? Why not?” Giving him a judgemental sneer, I added, “What, you got something better to do?” I nodded in an upwards motion to the wall behind him. “Like talkin’ to that wall?”

“Don’t mock me,” he threatened, and at the words, I just sighed.

“Well, come on. You don’t have a reason.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You just want me for protection.”

“You know what?” I began, exhaling again and giving my head a light shake. “I don’t have the time or patience for this.” I whirled around and began walking up the cave again. I did not have any interest in more talk. Sure, I was a talkative flareon, but when that was all I’d heard – bicker and chatter – for the past while, beginning when I woke that day because of that stupid houndoom, I was positively sick of it. I wanted action and progress, not another argument. Zaion had explained to me that while I was asleep, the rhyhorn’s herd had split in two – a party following the original leader and a party following a rebel who disagreed with the leader – just when things were looking like they could lead to peace. I didn’t witness it, of course, but the thought that we were nearly free of the tedious battle, only to wind up with a larger problem in our paws, was frustrating beyond compare. I just wanted to be rid of these caves and back on the surface so we could hurry up and find that base.

I was halfway up the room when I turned around to view the position of the other two. The kirlia had dropped behind and began conversing quietly with the rhyhorn while my thoughts were busy having a discussion with me. I turned back, head casually low as I walked, and very subtly edged my head to the right so one of my eyes was spying the rhyhorn, who, watching me carefully, began to trudge a little faster. I flicked back, wondering if he was, in fact, following us, or if he was simply progressing in the same direction we happened to be going because there was no other path. I watched as he passed by the few tunnels lining the walls, glancing warily left and right, and my mind told me he was less than interested in veering off and disappearing down them. I understood: fear of the unknown. I too preferred to carry on in the direction of a room I could actually see.

I slowed my pace so the kirlia would have a chance to catch up much faster – or that would have been my excuse if she asked how my wound was doing – and soon enough she was but a few metres behind me, the rhyhorn a little closer in distance to her. However, I arrived at the entrance to the next room before she met up with me, and, slowing to a stop, I realised that I had been right—it did slope up, although at a rounded angle, rather than a straight slant.

I surveyed the room from where I was, noting the many rising pillars around me. The entire room was riddled with giant ledges and carved cliffs rising from the ground at great angles, although there were only a few of them. Mostly the rock formations rose far above where I could reach, either a square shape at the top, and therefore easy to stand on, or looked to be lumpy and difficult to grasp. I clenched my jaws, feeling the effects of my wound after the walk as I stood still and could unintentionally spare focus for it.

“Well that...looks like a climb,” I commented, wondering where on earth I was meant to begin. With a wary face, the kirlia cast a solemn glance across the room, displaying subtle signs of caution and, I could see, some kind of hopelessness. I wondered why she was acting that way, especially considering she was able to teleport herself, but when I noticed the rhyhorn lumber up beside us, I understood. She was worried the rock type wouldn’t be capable of scaling the oversized ledges and pillars. When I thought about it, I had similar trouble envisioning how he would climb, and wondered what he would be made to do. I turned to him, trying to find some solution in my mind. It was in our best interest that the protector made it through as well as the protected. “Maybe...there’s another way through?” I asked sheepishly, hoping that he would suddenly reflect my hope with strength I couldn’t find.

He remained silent as he absorbed the scene. He didn’t seem nearly as dismayed as Rentana. “I hope you didn’t underestimate my ability to climb rock,” he grunted, and with a flicker of minor surprise, the psychic type and I glanced to each other with cocked heads. He didn’t say anything for a small amount of time, as if expecting us to consider his statement, and then become suddenly knowledgeable about what he was talking about. I watched as he emitted a sigh. “This is what I’m used to. I live in a rocky place. There are high-sailing structures like these all over the place that I have to find my way up.” He eyed one of them. “It’s not uncommon for rhyhorn to know how to climb.”

“Ooh,” I began as I looked to the same formation his gaze was set upon, clicking, “I get it now.”

Rentana hesitantly took the first few steps into the room and craned her neck slowly, as if the rectangular pillar before her was some monstrosity she was required to conquer...and then I realised that it was. “There are large gaps between those formations. You cannot leap across,” she affirmed. We both looked to her questioningly, and I noted she was right.

I doubted that even I could leap across some of the spaces, and it was obvious that we needed to ascend most of the rocks to reach the entrance to the next room, which sat far above in the wall, a ledge before it. I suddenly wondered to myself how the surface hadn’t yet begun, and wondered if we were perhaps...underneath the mountains already.

“I will find my way through,” the rhyhorn told her, and although she showed no sign of protest she, like me, was probably sceptical of his comment.

The kirlia lowered her head and faced him. “Even so,” she began, “the path won’t be an easy one.”

-

***

-

After trying to find a way to get back into the room they had been previously in, Zaion had given up with a growling huff and figured that the rest of his company was probably separated as he was, and probably just as lost, and would all be making their ways through the tunnels with the hope of reaching the end. He knew that they should have been close to the mountains, so emerging from them would be ideal, for once they were out, they could use their closeness to their advantage and arrive as quickly as they could.

He glanced to the quagsire beside him, eying him with particular interest as he wondered what exactly inhibited the pokémon’s ability to accurately communicate. It seemed, for the most part, his brain worked cognitively, but his emotional side was not well adjusted. He had considered that perhaps the quagsire was simply not an emotional pokémon, but readjusted his thinking and concluded that it wasn’t that he simply lacked enough emotion...it was that he seemed physically unable to properly express it. The thought of his emotions being suppressed in such a manner frightened him, although it would be all the quagsire knew. He probably never had much emotion in the first place to be taken away. He also wondered how many summers or winters old he was. It was peculiar that he couldn’t tell, but shrugged it off, making an attempt to stop focusing on his travelling companion and start focusing on the travelling itself.

“I’m fairly certain you can understand me, quagsire... Do you have any idea where we are?” he wondered curiously, throwing his head left and right as he examined rough walls with no sign of veering off. He could see another room up ahead, but still, he was extremely curious.

The water and ground type said nothing – he didn’t even look at the houndoom – until they reached the room, where he turned his head to shine his big, dopey smile at the fire and dark type. “Quagsire,” he mentioned, beginning to wag his tail. Zaion blinked peculiarly, unintentionally analysing his tail and suddenly finding that it must have been useful for many things—from a swimming aide to a handy tool in battle. He compared it with his tail, and although he had always liked the fact that it was slim and easy to keep track of, he wished it did more things.

They emerged into a room that, to both of their surprises, dropped immediately downwards several metres, the part they came out onto evidently some kind of strong ledge. The houndoom was quite happy to have been saved an immediate drop, and they would have had to remain at the mouth of the hallway as simple onlookers. He surveyed the area, noting that there was a giant lake in the centre of the room. The cavern itself wasn’t overly large, and estimated that he could probably run along the length of the ledge – which they had emerged onto the middle of – in five seconds per way, totalling a ten second stretch from wall to wall. However, this was only the width of the room, and he guessed that the distance from his side to the other side was at least twice that, if not a little more.

He cringed at the thought of water; he didn’t mind it that much, but he preferred to steer clear of it. It wasn’t something he enjoyed bathing in, but would if it was necessary. The feel of it simply reminded him of the attacks that water types used on him when they thought they had a hope of winning. Nevertheless, the thought of the feeling remained, but he was sure that he would have no trouble crossing it if they could get down from the ledge.

His first task was to see if there was a way to descend the ledge and end on the bottom floor, as there was no other way to continue, and gave a sigh. He figured that his counterpart would probably not be able to provide them with anything substantial, and began his quest to find a way down.

It didn’t take him long, however, and soon he and the quagsire were before the lake. With another inward groan, the houndoom watched as the quagsire simply fell into the water and slipped beneath the surface. If it weren’t for the subtle change in the pokémon’s disposition as soon as he hit the water, he thought he might have fallen in unintentionally, or with the inconvenience of being paralysed as he entered. He was relieved when the pokémon broke the surface and began to swim around happily; the thought of having to rescue a pokémon his size when the houndoom’s swimming skills weren’t exactly top notch was a little worrying.

He tested the water with two toes, cringing as he slipped the rest of himself in, a little surprised as the floor suddenly dropped and his front paws shot down into nothing but water. He began to drift as he paddled, his back legs dislodging from the floor unintentionally as he swayed and bent his legs in turn, nearly faltering a few times as he quickly sneered and began to swim to the other side. It was an effort, but he was able to make it to the other side without much fuss.

The quagsire swam about, diving in and out of water and splashing about as if water was his favourite thing in the world—which Zaion wouldn’t have doubted anyway. Upon reaching land, the fire and dark type shook off and searched for somewhere he could blow his fire and keep it burning so he could dry himself. Instead he attempted to heat his body’s temperature.

In the middle of doing so, he looked around, spotting his companion still dipping through the lake. For a moment he was fearful that something would pop out and swallow the quagsire up, but he realised that the lake was far too small to carry something that big. He cleared his throat. “Uh, Splash,” he called, “are you done?”

There was barely a response as the pokémon only paid him a small amount of notice between his dips and turns in the water, and for a while he didn’t rise again. It was then that Zaion feared something may have gone wrong, but when his head appeared again, thankfully still attached to his body, he could reassure himself. Perhaps the quagsire knew the depth of the smallish lake and was sure nothing lay at its bottom. If he were to ask, however, he knew he would get an incoherent response if a response at all.

“Come on,” the houndoom commanded, motioning with his head for the pokémon to follow. “We need to find the others.” He began walking away, pretending he didn’t care at all for the dual type pokémon, and continued through an opening in the wall that led to the next cavern.

Upon popping out, the houndoom was semi-surprised to find himself in a wide open space that had a floor riddled with stalagmites everywhere he looked. The most peculiar thing was that some towered over him at more than twice his height, but most of them were either a little taller than him or somewhat smaller. What confused him a little was their frequency; each were only a few paces from each other, forming a sort of maze. The thought itself was hindering, as he knew he would have to navigate with his mind instead of his eyes. However, he did have the advantage of smell on his side, which he decided he would prominently use.

Voices made him instantly freeze. At first he was lost for direction and identification of the voices, but as he stood, surrounded by the protruding rock formations at the entrance to the cavern, he could hear them nearing. He deduced that they were echoing from his left, and figured there must have been another opening in that general direction. He didn’t dare approach, however, as he continued to hear the nearing voices. He glanced around to the quagsire, who had pulled himself out of the water moments ago and shook off, and glared at him with wide eyes. Warily he crept away from the entrance and hissed a warning.

The quagsire approached the opening with the houndoom and stopped to listen. Zaion was well aware that the quagsire was taller than him and would likely outmatch a good number of the stalagmites in height, and clenched his jaws in anxiousness as he wondered if he would soon be sighted. Yet, when the voices continued and the quagsire emerged into the room in a leisurely pursuit of the sounds, he knew that it wasn’t involuntary sightings that he had to be worried about.

“Hey!” he hissed, lowering his head. His shoulders came up beside his jaws. “Quagsire, stop! What are you doing?”

Despite the calls from the houndoom, the ground and water type pokémon didn’t stop at all. He didn’t even turn around as he began to effortlessly and loosely navigate his way through the crowd of stalagmites. Angrily Zaion thought to turn away and shoot back the way they came, or fling off to the right, but he knew that both options were not exactly ideal. Besides, even if he was the one instigating the trouble, he didn’t want to leave Splash alone. If he met with those pokémon, they would surely find a reason to attack him, especially if they were on the traitor rhyhorn’s side. On top of that was the fact that his fire type moves would do nothing to a rock type’s armoured hide, whereas Splash’s water was a more than suitable means of attack.

He gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes closed while his body very slowly leaned in a few directions before he gave in with an inward sigh and began sneaking after him, his leg motions fluid and somewhat awkward in order to keep him low. At the same time, he gauged how far away the pokémon speaking were and used it to judge how much he should project his voice to the quagsire. “Come on, buddy. You have to stop,” he insisted. When the quagsire still didn’t listen, he thought of something else. “If they’re rock and ground types then...” He trailed off, understanding that the quagsire had a type advantage in two areas, but feared that a type advantage alone wasn’t going to save their hide.

Deciding it was still best to convince him to retreat, he hurriedly captured a few more paces and calculated the action before latching onto the creature’s tail. Even though he ensured that his bite wasn’t hard, the quagsire suddenly yelped and swung around, taking the houndoom with him for a short period before the tail passed a stalagmite and the houndoom’s side slammed into it. He dropped like a bundle of slaughtered prey, and it was in that moment that he thought not about pain, but about accidentally attracting the unwelcome visitors.

Instantly the pokémon froze in their tracks and questioned the noises. They, just as he had expected, raced along the ground, the harsh thud of rock on rock as they powered their way, certain to appear from within a few stalagmites and begin to tear the place apart in rage. He groaned and lifted himself to his feet just as a silver rocky creature came into view, revealing itself to be a rhyhorn, just as he had expected. The creature turned her enormous head upon the sturdy shoulders towards them and stood still, surveying them over a few times. Zaion was convinced she was about to charge, but was surprised when the quagsire suddenly began to wag his tail.

Zaion watched as Splash weaved through the stalagmites loosely and came upon the rhyhorn, stopping before her and remaining still as his tail still swished. It wasn’t long till, to his surprise, a familiar face hobbled into view, rather aghast at what he saw. He looked first to Splash and then to Zaion, and they frowned at one another before the houndoom started nodding his head slowly and began to approach.

“Although I don’t know you well,” the fire type started, eyes on the white and green pokémon, “it’s good to see you here.”

“You too,” the krinar responded, more shocked than anything. He let his surprise fade as he introduced the rhyhorn, whose name was Maka, to his fellow colony member and the houndoom, who he had only seen around on occasion. Maka nodded to each, briefly explaining her course of action: to lead Etire out and find her way back to her clan. “Always good to come across someone who’s on your side,” the psychic and fighting type chuckled, and Zaion nodded slowly.

Expressing his response, the quagsire took a few steps before enveloping the injured Usster pokémon in a strong embrace. The krinar made small sounds of protest as Splash hugged him, but it soon wore off, and the pokémon was once again freed.

“I suggest we keep moving,” the rhyhorn announced, swinging her head toward the other end of the room. It passed the wide opening in the wall that Zaion and Splash had come from and looked to rise with a few complicated ledges they would need to scale, but overall Zaion figured it made sense. If they been travelling to the left from the entrance, he would have been confused and objected, but considering that, emerging from where he had been, the trail continued on his right, all made sense in his mind.

While they passed the opening from which Zaion and Etire had come, the houndoom was quick to mention the lake, in case either of them needed a drink, so they took a small break to drink before Etire dipped himself in, keen to wash off any blood and cool any burning wound he may have still been suffering. When Maka questioned the lake’s random appearance, Zaion remarked, “I think it travels from some small hole in the wall hidden under the surface or something. One that would be big enough for it to flow through.”

“Well...what if the hole is big enough to fit through?” Etire asked, wading calmly into the water. Splash dipped in and out around him, constantly popping up. “Maybe it’ll take us to where we need to go. I mean, it would have to come from the surface, right?”

Maka and Zaion looked to each other with hardened hesitation. Both glanced distastefully to the water and resisted, each taking a step back or leaning away from it. “I’m...happy to follow in its general direction on land,” the rhyhorn confirmed. “Besides, I’ll sink in water. Many of my kind...have died by falling into lakes and deep rivers.” The others stared at her with relative horror, except Splash, who continued to obliviously dip in and out. “Well...oceans not so much for two reasons; the first being that salt makes us much lighter, not that it prevents us from dropping straight to the floor anyway, and the second that no rhyhorn would want to live near one. That’s not where these formations generally are.” She angled her head and surveyed the room.

“And I thought I had it bad,” the houndoom remarked, giving a light chuckle that was more nervous than anything else.

“Ah...yes,” the krinar simply responded, then, in the middle of keeping himself afloat, turned around to the pokémon whose attention seemed to be focused completely elsewhere. “I guess he would have told us if there was an underwater path we could follow.” He looked up, catching Zaion’s raised brow and eyes with eyelids halfway down. Etire was unsure what he was making the face for before he shook his head quickly, as if remembering something, and corrected himself. “Well, you know; not told us ‘told us,’ just...told us. With arms. And...grunts.”

“Grunts,” the houndoom repeated with a strong tinge of amusement that was close to mockery.

Etire scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean!”

“Uh...I’m not getting any of this,” the rhyhorn interjected, unintentionally excluded.

“He doesn’t talk,” Etire clarified, deciding it was time he emerged. As he began to wave himself towards the edge of the lake, Splash rose from behind him, his large, goofy smile plastered to his wet face.

“Quaaaaag!” he gurgled, flecks of water jumping about at the back of his big mouth.

The rhyhorn cringed with amusement and gave a small chuckle. “I think he’s adorable.”

Etire made a noise of clear disagreement mingled with distaste as he placed his arms carefully on the rocky ground. “Yes, that’s the term the females use.”

“What’s wrong with it?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Etire snorted in amusement, not looking at her as he hauled himself up into a seated position. “It’s just what the females use.”

Zaion chuckled with agreeing amusement as they both looked to one another while Maka stood, a little confused by the whole thing. The rhyhorn only released a sigh.

***

“So far she hasn’t commanded us to do anything,” Azure uttered, prowling beside Tarla as she directed one eye to the rhyhorn behind her. She kept her head low and only angled it just so, and knew it wasn’t enough to be seen by her target.

Tarla too turned her head with her elongated neck, proceeding to bend over and ‘preen’ a cloudy feather or two before returning to normal, under the impression that keeping a watchful eye was a wise choice in such a circumstance.

“Is that not fair?” they heard from Thunderquake, who was discussing matters with a few of her fellow rock and ground types. A few from the passage the two had passed through before meeting with the rhyhorn herd’s leader had emerged and pledged their allegiance to the rightful leader, as they referred to her as, while many of them remained behind. Tarla assumed they were either gathering their strength and waiting for a suitable time to attack, or they were simply reluctant to move on when the one they betrayed was so near...as well as some of her followers and, more importantly, an ice type.

Azure had offered to seal the tunnel with ice, but Thunderquake declined her offer for two reasons: one being that she was reluctant to anger the issue even further and demonstrate that she harboured no true dignity, and second that a block or sheet of ice would be useless against their heavy bulks. They would be able to shatter through it with a number of tries, depending on how thick the ice was. Azure was a little sour at the notion that her ice was hardly effective; Tarla understood her frustration as she continually glanced at her crippled wing and sighed, wondering how long it would take to heal. She hoped it was only bruising and a sprain, rather than a snapped bone. Aemara could tell her when they returned, but she resenting having to wait so long.

It wasn’t long before they came upon another wider cavern. It was painfully dark, and the duo, entering first, were required to wait as they stared into the inky depths of the room until details they hadn’t previously been able to detect smudged into existence. It was fairly large and although the ground up ahead was exceptionally dark and there was some eerie chill about the place, the altaria swallowed her apprehension and strode forward, the glaceon tentatively following.

It was only because there was rush of air that shot from the ground and blew back her feathers did the altaria stop, angling her head away as she grimaced in distaste. Azure, barely paying attention, bumped into her from behind and jumped instantly away before she realised it was only Tarla. However, before the glaceon could question her friend’s actions, she paused and blinked several times. In the minimal light, she could make out only ground...which then disappeared.

Curiously she wandered up to the edge, where the ground seemingly disappeared, and rolled her paw pad on the edge. She slipped her paw slowly downwards as she leaned, bending her back legs and applying the most amount of body weight she could on them to ensure that she wouldn’t topple over forward and fall down into what appeared to be some kind of...nothing. The ground had been removed. With a rush of alarm, she realised that it was an absolute drop down to someplace far, far below.

“Tarla...” she began, her voice a little weaker than she hoped for it to be. “Don’t...move...”

A zap of shivers suddenly scaled her back as she ceased all movement but the frantic beating of her heart and her curious eyes, which rolled toward the glaceon, chancing movement with her head to face her. “Wh...why?”

“Put your foot out. But don’t put weight on it,” the smaller of the two commanded, hearing voices from the cavern they had just been.

Extending her leg, the altaria began to stretch out, running her foot along the rough ground before there was something that felt like an edge. She quickly confirmed her assumption that the ground suddenly vanished. “A chasm?”

“One that extends across both sides of the cavern,” the glaceon confirmed, referring to the walls on the left and right. She stared down below, shooting tiny bullets of ice without particular force. They plunged into the darkness and vanished. Not a single sound of shattering managed to reach their ears as they waited in silence before flashing looks of alarm, which were hardly visible in the blackness, to one another. Azure bounded off to her right, travelling alongside the chasm but ensuring she was at least a few paces from it before stopping once the wall came into her face. She turned toward the abyss and, unable to see to the other side of the empty space, squashed her cheek against the cold, stony wall before she fired more ice shards. She watched them travel with the wall for a time before they lost momentum and sunk, also disappearing without a sound to follow.

In her amazement, the altaria hardly realised she was so close as she moved to the edge and peered down, unable to make anything out. Her foot edged closer to the cliff, and she reached down, wondering if there was a ledge just below ground level, but realised she was wrong. In the midst of her awkward position, she suddenly jerked, the pain from her wing pulsing to life as she angled it awkwardly while distracted. The abrupt movement stole her balance and the altaria shrieked as she instantly filled with dread.

Before she panicked, the pokémon broadened her wings and beat the air, sure she could easily overcome any kind of drop before her bad wing cried out with a splitting pain and she roared in agony, realising with horror that it left her to fall. In the split second that she began to fall, her foot about to lose any connection it had with the floor, impossibility flashed through her mind. She was a flying type, and she was condemned to fall to her death. It was both inglorious and frightening, as she knew not how far she would be falling at all. The sense of fear was far greater than anything she had ever felt, terrified she had been denied the precious wings that had always given her security. For a flying type to fall to their death was the most shameful death of all.

Suddenly her foot felt as if it had caught aflame as it halted in place, when her bad wing simultaneously fired up with a painful sensation as it was pulled and tugged, the altaria ready to struggle against whatever caused it. Despite the strength of the pain and the extreme discomfort it caused her, she realised that it had stopped her from falling. She couldn’t move her foot either, and as the searing iciness began to shoot up her leg, she realised that it was, in fact, ice.

“FLAP!” screeched the glaceon, her mouth full with feathers as she applied all her weight to her back legs, leaning back and resisting against Tarla’s mass. In spite of her desperate attempts, she quickly began to slip toward her. It wasn’t enough.

A flock of thoughts soared through the dual type’s mind before she realised her comrade was referring to her good wing, which was under her, and furiously and frantically she began to force the air under it to retreat and return, elevating her as a result. With a burst of a realisation that it was working, she ignored the pain in her wing as best she could, cringing as she worked her wing even harder. Finally she was upright again, but with a feeling of fright, discovered that she couldn’t actually move out of the way of the cliff given that her foot was trapped in ice. Azure still gripping her bad wing, the altaria, although in a blubber of pain and discomfort, bent over and drilled her beak repeatedly, shattering enough ice to slip her foot out from her ankle.

The two flew backwards, tumbling on the floor and halting in a tangled heap. Tarla was more in shock and fear than anything as she and her friend heaved with the effort, and remained there until Azure helped herself up, her breathing steadying again. “I told you...not to put your weight—”

“That’s not how it happened,” Tarla snapped, and Azure guessed she was more intent on nursing her pride than her wing. She was not to know, however, as the altaria rose and allowed the wing to drape over one side and meet with the floor. After a moment more of silence, she looked to the glaceon. “...Thank you for...saving me.”

Azure looked back, studying the altaria’s face as she detected streams of draining fear. “It’s...fine,” she responded, looking away. Both pokémon laid their eyes on the horror that the absence of light had made all the more dangerous and inhaled deeply. Tarla strongly regretted her foolishness while Azure tried to convince herself that she was not to blame for encouraging the pokémon to do such a thing, but the two did not speak of either matter.

“We’ll have to warn the rhyhorn about this,” Tarla concluded, and the glaceon shook her head, even if in agreement.

“Yeah, but...even if we tell them to steer clear from it...how do we cross it?”

The question repeatedly rang in both pokémon’s minds. There was obvious there was no bridge from their side to the other, and without Tarla’s ability to fly, not even she was capable of crossing. As far as they could tell, the question had no answer.

[Suicune's Fire]

Chapter Thirty: Between Stone and Soil

Telling someone that climbing those pillars and ledges was difficult would be a massive understatement and for it, I deserved to be flattened by a rollout. There was not a single slope or block that I didn’t find extremely awkward to scramble onto using only my own strength. I had considered the fact that the rhyhorn could always use his massive head armour to throw me up, but that would have been a stupid idea given the fact that I could easily have hurt myself landing, or part of my legs could have slammed against the edge if the toss was miscalculated—or worse. I myself could have slammed into the side of a tall block if the throw wasn’t powerful enough.

Nevertheless, I needed not to worry of such a thing as the kirlia offered to use her psychic powers to lift both me and the rhyhorn. However, the amount of energy she spent on each mental lift was nearly equal to half the amount of energy it would have taken to lift us using her arms, or at least, that’s what she told us. I was glad it was only half; I couldn’t imagine that she would have been able to lift us at all if the full weight was converted to the psychic effort. Apparently it helped if we thought “light thoughts” since it was a mental operation, and so I resolved to thinking of a hoppip each time. I didn’t know why that would have helped, given I could have thought of a grain of sand instead, but for some reason my mind always wound back to a hoppip. Nevertheless, eventually – but slowly – I made it to the other end of the room. The ledge I was on, from which several others protruded down below, was against the cavern wall and had the entrance to the next room directly behind me. I couldn’t see a thing while looking through, however, and figured that when the others caught up, I could use my fire to illuminate the path.

“You coming?” I asked, watching as the rhyhorn carefully trekked along a narrow slant. He wasn’t far away, but the kirlia, trailing shortly behind him at a very leisurely rate, looked less than capable of lifting him another time. It was a little worrying, however, considering he would need to be lifted at least another two times until he reached my ledge. Unless, somehow, she could magically lift him with her mind and send him across far further than she had previously been in one go. I doubted she could do that.

“It’s not...as easy...for me...as it was for you,” growled the rock and ground pokémon, and I gave a shrug, figuring that his previous claim that he could scale rock easily was somewhat inaccurate.

“Shall I take a nap then?” I stretched, beginning to get comfortable.

“Can you stop being such a brat?” the rhyhorn grumbled, his patience clearing wearing thin.

“But look how much it’s affecting you. It’s kinda fun. And hey, if anything, it takes your mind of the hard work you’re doing.” I gave a shrug, tucking my paws under my mane.

The rhyhorn uttered a few words of resentment and came to a stop, glancing about. He turned back to the kirlia. “Are you okay to...send me over again?”

She trudged up behind him, arriving within a pawful of seconds. “Just...give...me a second,” she rasped, dropping to her hands and knees in order to breathe. I watched with a small frown of concern and hoped to myself that she wasn’t going to have to stop there. I was eager to get going.

“Rentana,” I began, pausing to make sure that was her name, “you can rest once both of you are this side of the ledge.” I questioned myself after I had spoken, wondering if I really had the right to instruct and persuade her like that. “Well, just saying...that would be more convenient.”

The kirlia probably thought my idea was a good one, and one she had obviously considered prior to the voiced suggestion, and I hoped she was going to make it a reality. “I will...try.”

Eventually she got him across one more chasm, but the strain it looked to put on her was far more than I previously thought. She could teleport herself over with little problem, as she either couldn’t lift herself with her psychic powers or chose to teleport because it may have been easier, and to that I was relieved. However, she still had one last chasm-like space to cross with the rhyhorn.

Realising it may be bad if she tried to push herself, I interjected, “Wait...wait, don’t you think it would be a good idea to rest first? You’re exhausted, clearly, and I don’t think overworking yourself is going to help.”

She threw a determined glare at me. “We...need to get across...as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, but if you drop him halfway through, you’ll never forgive yourself. It’s far too much effort to bring someone up than across, right?” I retorted, and she gritted her teeth, probably recognising that I was right.

She heaved a sigh and sunk into a sit, her knees meeting as her legs lay on the rock in opposite directions. Without looking at the rhyhorn she told him, “I will just...wait for a moment, then...before continuing.”

The rhyhorn, obviously a little agitated by her idea but understanding it, made the decision to remain standing. “How long will that take?” he questioned, and she looked up at him.

“Until...I am rested enough to levitate you across.” The kirlia grew a minor look of concern as she realised that the rock type was less than content with the decision.

“But we’re stranded here,” he protested, and at that I rolled my eyes.

“If she tries to carry you across now and you drop, who are you going to blame? She wants to rest and you want to keep going. It won’t be her fault, and it’ll be a whole lot longer before she’ll be able to lift you all those times again over the rocks, as opposed to waiting a little longer this time.” My face was etched with a frown while I looked at him, and he heaved a sigh and snorted.

“Okay, I get you.”

He stood while we both sat, and it was a fair few minutes before Rentana got back up again and was ready to transport him across. “Okay...ya ready?” I called without much volume, and the psychic type hesitated before nodding. She raised her arms and began her rhythmic breathing before she exhaled again, and the rhyhorn began to float. With a considerable amount of strain and effort, as if she had forgotten how heavy he was, the rhyhorn slowly made his way across, glancing down at the room’s floor, which was a fair few metres down. I saw a flash of nervousness cross his face before he was finally let down on my side, and the kirlia fell to her knees with a series of pants.

The rhyhorn looked happy to have solid ground under his rocky legs, which suddenly made me thankful as well. I got the feeling that he was a little too proud to thank her, but on the inside, he was certainly grateful. It would have been relatively impossible for him to make it so far on his own – despite what he had earlier claimed – and therefore it was extremely useful that the kirlia could help on such a large scale.

I rested my eyes on her, watching as the effort seemed to weigh her heavily down. For the first moment since she had started doing this, I felt a legitimately concerned for her. “Hey...Rentana? Are you alright?”

She winced, trying to control her breathing, and bound her eyes. She gritted her teeth and exposed them as her lips stretched, clearly suffering somewhat from the effort she had just applied to such a difficult task.

“Y...yes, I am...just...a little...” She drew a lengthy breath, stilling herself for a moment as she stared at a particular mark on the ground near her arm, which supported her as she leant on her knees. Her other arm was situated on her head, and slowly the other one came up as well when she leaned back, supported by her kneel. She pressed her hands against the side of her head, as if trying to dull the swelling inside. I guessed that was a very possible scenario. “I’m alright,” she responded, getting to her feet and closing her eyes. Instantly she vanished and reappeared right before me, and I jumped back in surprise. “Sorry,” she uttered.

I cleared my throat. “Anyway...we should keep going,” I suggested, and the other two nodded in turn. “Uhh...good job, Rentana,” I complimented, but before I waited for a response, I walked through the tiny tunnel leading to the next room.

Bizarrely, the following room had a slope leading down to the floor, which was completely covered in holes and bunches of dug-out burrows. For a moment I was confused, but it became clear that they were nests, and most were inhabited by pokémon. I froze at the top of the slant, unable to identify the pokémon for a minute before my eyes adjusted probably. Given the fact that flareon were occasionally nocturnal, our eyes were able to adjust well to the darkness, and even if I could have used my fire to better see my surroundings, I knew that disturbing sleeping pokémon in their territory was less than wise.

As the other two came up beside me and the rhyhorn began speaking loudly, whom I proceeded to shush, I realised I could make out the figures closest to us. They were scattered across the floor with barely any space between them, and the nest construction was completely tactless. My mind wound immediately back to the colony, and how astounded I had been when I first saw their huts and houses, and in comparison, these pokémon’s method seemed excruciatingly primitive.

As I slowly padded forward, reaching the very edge of the rock before it angled to the floor the crude nests were spread across, I could see that the pokémon were an odd shape of a faded yellow colour. No limbs were attached to their bodies, but two tiny white wings rested on their backs, and their round heads had rings of blue around closed eyes. The tail was peculiar, as it was shaped like a drill similar to that of what a beedrill has on the end of its arms. Only, these pokémon’s tails looked useless and composed of regular flesh, as opposed to anything that could actually bore through something solid. Overall, they were a strangely designed elongated blob with miniature wings and odd tails. It was immediately apparent to me that I had never seen one of these creatures before, and frankly, I couldn’t figure out what type they could possibly be.

Slowly edging my face away from the creatures, although still keeping an eye on them for as long as I could before I met the kirlia’s gaze, I asked, “What are those things?”

“Dunsparce,” the rhyhorn responded, a little amusement to his tone. I wasn’t sure if it was directed at the creatures themselves or at me, who lacked the knowledge to identify them. However, it was clear when he added, “They’re harmless.”

My brow tugged, a small amount of confusion shaping it. “Wait...actually? Like, their attacks are about as effective as a magikarp?”

The rhyhorn took a breath and responded, “If that strong.”

The answer took me by surprise, and I shared his amusement as I scanned the room. The renewal of any lost confidence to cross without trouble was instantaneous, and with a grin, I figured that the task ahead would be easy. “Alright, well, let’s go!”

I stepped down the slope quietly, unwilling to wake the pokémon in case they did have hidden tricks none of us were aware of, and simply because I had no desire to intentionally wake them. I knew how annoying it was to be woken when you really didn’t want to be, so I avoided doing the same to them—even if I didn’t know them or have much reason to concern myself with them. Once at the bottom, I turned my head and raised my brow, daring the others to follow. The rhyhorn only smirked and followed, sure not to slip down the slant, before the kirlia took a series of breaths and also warily followed. It occurred to me that she was the most hesitant of us all, and I made a quick suggestion that she should ride atop the rhyhorn, but his rejection was clear, and I only huffed at him in response.

We stepped carefully between the many nests, which consisted of shallow dips in the ground filled with dried grass for comfort, and the pokémon were generally flat against them. A few of them were coiled, and I assumed that was either for protection of comfort. Whatever it was, it amused me, as their tiny wings stuck up and remained there, as if they were fruit on display to be picked. I didn’t touch them though, and instead we kept walking.

“This is easy!” I exclaimed in a whisper, my head over my shoulders. The rhyhorn barely looked where he was going and the kirlia was much more careful with her movements, ensuring she didn’t step in any of the potholes that the dunsparce lay in. I nearly asked her how she was doing, but decided against it and focused on the path ahead.

In the midst of walking through, I felt myself stand on something. Quickly I retracted my paw, leaning back on my hind legs for support, and deduced that it was, in fact, a wing of one of the pokémon. I hadn’t meant to step on it, obviously, and for a moment I was confused; how could I have stood on a wing? The answer was clear as I realised that the pokémon had been one of the ones coiled, but it rested on its side, so its wings lay out of the nest’s borders, one against the ground.

I gritted my teeth as it began to screech, waking instantly, and turned my head as if it would protect my ears from the sound. A sudden eruption of similar cries from around me sounded as well, and the pokémon began to uncoil. The ones already straightened opened their odd mouths and continued their screeching, and quickly the piercing noise became nearly unbearable.

Not a moment too soon, I wrenched myself away from the pokémon and raced through the room as it slammed its tail down, making a reasonably sized indent in the solid ground. I watched it as I ran, wondering quickly what the rhyhorn and Rentana were going to do, and suddenly I found myself throwing my gaze in assorted directions against my will, the world tossing and tussling as pain suddenly struck me.

I tumbled along the ground, skidding and shrieking with the intense pain that awoke once more in my side, and already felt my fur moisten with fresh blood. I tried to gather myself, groaning with the effort, before something slammed into my spine, forcing me back down and agitating the wound even further. Again I bellowed, unable to grasp the situation before I forced my eyes to the right, where one of those creatures was. I could only see its rear and the mound of its back as its drill-like tail reared, and with a sweeping feeling of alarm, I tried to scramble out of its range, only to be hit on my shoulders by the same thing, but to my left.

I was nearly winded as I struggled to get back up, in extreme discomfort as my side wound pulsed with the previous intensity it threatened me with, and tried with all my might to scramble away.

With the relief of a hundred stranded finneon suddenly returned to the ocean, I heard the crash of the tails behind me, keeping my eyes on the road ahead in case more of them threatened to squash my body parts. To my dismay there were, and I noticed with a feeling of imminent dread that just about all the opposing pokémon had banded together, and were pounding the floor with their strangely solid tails.

“I’m sorry!” I shouted, attempting to calm them as I blurted out the apology, but the screeching, still high-pitched and extremely disturbing, was far too loud; I could barely even hear myself.

Suddenly I remembered the others and wound my head around, spotting the rhyhorn looking to attempt to protect Rentana, who had obviously been given permission to jump on his back. The tails barely affected him, it seemed, and upon witnessing the good news, I focused on my own path and powered on. The wound leaked with painful consistency, and with continuous groans and whines, I felt tears dripping from my eyes. I felt utterly horrible as I continued, regretting the stupidity of my right paw as I remembered that it was to blame for standing on one of the pokémon’s wings.

To my surprise, some of the dunsparce, while others continued to bash needlessly with their tails, reared up on their back-ends and began directing their screeches straight at me. I continued to watch them, frantically throwing my gaze left and right to avoid missing anything, and came to spot one such pokémon with its eyes open. The shock nearly threw me off balance, and as the tiny pupils pointed themselves at me, I felt a wave of shock hit me like something tangible. Instantly my legs froze and I literally felt myself falling with no way to brace myself, meeting the rock with unwelcome force and bouncing along the ground with stiff limps and a flapping half-tail, unable to do anything to prevent further injury to my wound or any other part of my body. I couldn’t even call out.

When I rolled to a stop, I found myself able to use my voice again and cried out at the top of my lungs, as my body had landed on top of my wound and it was pressing into the ground. It felt as if it was as bad as it had been when the flesh was first torn, and I wished I could do something to aid it as my vision began to fuzz. A rush of air blew onto my face as a tail slammed down right before my nose, and I cringed, squeezing out tears and whining with the pain.

When my eyes opened again, I saw with shock that a dunsparce flew across the room and into my line of sight. At first I thought it was his or her own doing, but they were tumbling through the air, as if someone had just thrown them, before crashing into a group of other dunsparce. Alarm knotted my brow as I wondered what on earth had happened before another one soared into view and slammed into the ground not a few metres from me. The surrounding pokémon were distracted by the sudden landings and all turned their bodies, and I was extremely thankful for the momentary distraction. I still couldn’t move, however, and struggled to wiggle my toes or even move my head. Some of the screeching ceased, and I realised that the rhyhorn was grunting and growling. It soon struck me that he was bowling them into the air after crashing into them, and although I couldn’t see, I could tell he was getting closer.

By the time he neared, the ground was rumbling, and suddenly I was picked up. I had no idea what was happening as I soared behind the rhyhorn in my stiff state, until I noticed an odd glow surrounding my contour.

At that moment, I realised I was being dragged behind them, courtesy of Rentana, who was using her psychic powers to lift me. Although I was still paralysed, the psychic energy surrounding my body made me feel as if I could actually move, and after another ten or so seconds, I felt that I could finally wriggle my toes. Tyring my hardest to move my head, I craned it around, cringing at the wound that would bother me for a long while to come. We were only halfway through the cavern. “Oh, great...” I uttered through tears and a blubbery voice, which I tried to clear several times.

Not long into the odd voyage, the dunsparce suddenly stopped their attacks. The rhyhorn continued to power through, however, a little concerned as he wondered – as well as I, and probably the kirlia – why the pokémon had stopped their assault. My first guess was that they realised that their feeble attacks were useless against a rhyhorn, a creature with armour and one that was barely affected by normal type moves as it was, and decided to stop. It seemed as if they didn’t choose another action to replace it with, however, until suddenly a tail on one of them began spinning rapidly. Once the tail was pointed toward the ground, the earth around it began to break and a hole was quickly bored. It was then that I realised the ground wasn’t as hard as I thought it was, and was actually compact dirt, which was a perfect habitat for these creatures whose tails...clearly did allow them to burrow.

The creature disappeared, snaking and then vanishing quickly. Suddenly all those around us began to do the same thing, and soon, I was sure the entire room-full of dunsparce were digging, and one-by-one they disappeared. The whole room looked like it was shaking – and probably was – although it was hard to tell while suspended with psychic energy. Frantically I searched the room, trying to ignore my wound, for anything that could indicate actual danger. All these pokémon were fleeing...so it seemed they had given up hope. ‘Well that’s kinda typ—’

Suddenly the rhyhorn’s front leg, while he was running, became lodged in a tunnel created by one of the pokémon who had fled before we reached them, and the kirlia jolted and flew off, causing me to do the same thing. She accidentally released her mental hold on me, and I dropped like a dead fly, landing roughly on the ground beside her and grunting in pain. I was only glad I landed on the opposite side to the one the wound was on, although it still hurt like hell. Flicking my head back around to the sound of the rhyhorn’s cursing, I noticed in shock that the holes, given that the pokémon were longer than the rhyhorn, were big enough to capture his foot, as well as part of his head, and it was clearly difficult for him to remove himself.

Rentana got up from beside me and padded weakly over, always on the tips of her toes, I had noticed, and stood beside the rhyhorn’s head. “Do you need any help?” she asked, but the rock and ground type only growled and attempted to lift his heavy face from the hole again. It was rather useless, however, and he was clearly having a lot of trouble. Rentana repeated her question, and as she stood confidently, I was glad that she didn’t endure any serious injuries upon meeting with the ground.

“N...no!” he grumbled, but I shouted in angry objection, and it was clear that the kirlia sided with me on the matter.

“I’m going to help you,” she told him, and took a deep breath. I couldn’t see from behind, but she probably closed her eyes as well and formed an expressionless face. Despite the rhyhorn’s protests, the psychic type continued, and used her mental power to lift his head from the ground, aiding him as he pushed, and eventually he popped out and he was nearly sent bowling over backwards. He steadied himself appropriately though and instead stood noble again.

“...I didn’t need your help,” he grunted, angrily stomping past the psychic type and heading my way. He didn’t meet with my eyes as he approached, and nor did he as he walked by.

“Manners,” I blurted, a little incredulous at his rudeness. I shook my head with a notable frown and passed the expression to Rentana, who moved her mouth a little, but other than that, she didn’t show signs of more expression.

She began to walk my way, and it was then that I realised I would have to get to my feet and walk as well. Even the idea was painful, but even so, I knew I had to do it. I wrenched myself off the ground once she passed and trailed slowly behind, a heavy limb impairing my back left leg as I avoided putting proper pressure around the wounded area. The pain ate at me like a ravenous totodile whose jaws released only to gain a better hold. I continuously released pent-up breath in sections and intervals, cringing the entire way through the cavern. It was eerily quiet after all the tails had stopped slamming and the screeches faded to nothing whilst they drilled away, and the sheer number of holes in the hardened earth was nearly as astounding as the fact that the rhyhorn barely slipped another time. I assumed he was taking care not to endanger himself or inconvenience Rentana – as she had spent more than his share of energy on him and would likely continue to aid him whether he wanted it or not – and therefore, he managed to avoid them for the most part.

Once we had crossed the cavern, despite the small hardships I encountered along the way (such as nearly entering a hole myself), I felt relieved. I was still in severe pain, of course, but luckily I was able to block some of that out with the help of sharp rocks that prodded my paw pads and my bullet wound, which also pulsed. Even if it was annoying to have more than one active wound, it was good to be able to take my mind off it even just a little through means of distraction.

“So...” I cringed, trying to wait for a burst of pain to clear as I rested before carrying on. “...What about those creatures again? Not dangerous, I heard you say,” A fleck of anger swelled in my mind before I threw my glare to him. “Are you freaking deluded?”

“Don’t blame this on me!” shouted the rock and ground type, immediately arching up at the accusatorial comment.

“Yeah? If I can’t blame you then who am I supposed to blame?” I questioned, wincing as I accidentally jerked my body and felt my wound pulse. “When there’s no risk of danger, I don’t usually take care to avoid it.”

“Don’t be ignorant! It was that foolish attitude that made you set off the entire swarm!” he rumbled, lowering his head. The kirlia sat against the wall, resting as she was involuntarily subjected to our bickering.

“It’s called a mistake,” I hissed, unsure quite how to defend myself in that instance.

The rhyhorn eyed me with condescending confusion and cruel amusement. “If you tripped by mistake, then how does the information that they are or are not dangerous going to affect that? You would have screwed up regardless.”

Realising he was right, I merely glared at him before tearing myself away, storming toward the entrance to the next room as best I could in my condition. Moving too much caused my wounds to once again screech with discomfort, and I felt my breath catch in my throat, forcing me to stop walking. With extreme reluctance, I stayed on the spot just before the entrance, taking note of the next area: it was a simple tunnel. It was darker than the dunsparce cavern so I knew I would have to light the path with flame, and just the thought of having to do so was enough to make me groan. I was already injured, and using fire would only accelerate the pain I felt and drain the energy I needed to recover.

I tossed my angry but guarded look to Rentana, wondering feebly if somehow her psychic powers could heal me in any way, and pondered how that would possibly affect her ability to heal. It didn’t hurt to wonder, however, as I certainly was in need of healing. Without someone who could do that, I felt lost for what to do. I stood on the spot, contemplating the very few options laid before me. I couldn’t go back, and even if I could cross the room with slopes and blocks of enormous height to get past the barricade of fallen rocks blocking the entrance back to the room where the rebel rhyhorn turned on the rest of its herd, I would either run into more predators such as the massive steelix that originally drove us all out, or get completely lost in the underground maze-like tunnels. My choices were totally limited to the path ahead, but before I could think more on that, I focused again on my thoughts of the steelix.

After not a moment longer to mull over the thought, I snapped around, regretting injuring my wound yet again, and glared at Rentana with accidental over-enthusiasm. At my odd expression, she seemed a little startled. “The granbull...the steelix!” I blurted, unable to remember the granbull’s name and unsure how to word the rest. “They were in the cavern when it collapsed. The granbull...he made sure everyone else was out alive and he stayed behind the fend the creature off. But what...happened to him?” As I continued staring at her, she only blinked a few times, her shocked expression still showing. “Aren’t you worried for him?”

Rentana gave a light frown. “Not at all,” she responded, and to her remark I was utterly confused. I protested about the type differences and how the granbull had a huge disadvantage, but she stopped me before I could finish. “The steelix, Undol, is the colony’s friend.”

I stared with whirring thoughts. I blinked a few times and my expression dulled to one of pure perplexity. The kirlia’s look was soft and hesitant. “...What?”

“Ya deaf or something?” murmured the rhyhorn, and I snarled quickly at him.

“But-but...wh... Uhh...okay,” I started, still trying to get a handle on this strangeness. “Then why was he attacking everyone?”

The kirlia blinked confusedly. “He...wasn’t attacking anyone.”

“That’s certainly inaccurate,” I retorted, remembering his sweeping tail over my head. “He tossed his gigantic flippin’ tail at me and...” I tried different subtle movements with my mouth before I gave up on trying to remember his name. “...The granbull! And why’d he try to block off all of the entrances?”

My curiosity must have been either annoying or intimidating, but she showed no sign of reacting to either as she thought about my answer for mere moments. “I assume he showed up in the first place because the fight between the halves of the rhyhorn herd was out of control, and, well, he lives there so he probably didn’t want his home to be destroyed at all, and similarly, he does not want an outbreak of violence. The tail could very well have been a mistake as he was turning around, and perhaps he blocked off the tunnel entrances so that the separate parties of enemies couldn’t return to the room and resume fighting, or pursue the enemy through another tunnel.”

“Yeah, I...guess that makes sense...but when me and the granbull were the only ones left in the cavern, he still blocked my path! And then I was told to run, so what’s up with that?”

“Does she look like an alakazam?” the rock and ground type shot from the other wall, and I sneered at him, not bothering to credit his speech with a response.

The kirlia looked as if she waited until she was sure nobody was going to speak before she addressed my concern. “Perhaps he wanted you to remain in the cavern so he could help with your wound, if he had any means of doing so,” she said, and to that I froze.

“...What?” I went through my mind, detailing my experience since then and how my wound had worsened due to the actions I took. “But...the boulder he threw could have crushed me. And...”

“Maybe Derino told you to run because he thought you should catch up with one of us, so you could leave the tunnels quicker, not knowing why Undol was blocking your path. It’s possible he even attacked him to gain his attention, as sometimes the steelix has trouble hearing, especially in such a loud environment. Similarly, he would have first tried his tactics to gain your attention before speaking, which would be why he did not stop to address you and explain himself. That is his way.”

I stilled myself, processing her words and shaking my head slowly. I couldn’t believe this... The pokémon who I figured was my enemy was actually trying...to help me? I found the prospect unbelievable. I didn’t know what had happened or why he attacked us...and I dearly hoped that he didn’t want to help me for fear of feeling like an idiot for not realising, but also hoping that he was, in fact, friendly as the kirlia explained. If he was, then Derino, as she mentioned his name was, who would, would be okay.

Biting my lip, I turned away and strolled towards the entrance to the tunnel. I peered through and spotted nothing but a passage, silence overcoming me as the wound burned with consistency and my spine reminded me that it was also injured. I assumed I had countless other wounds as well, but I wasn’t ready to address them, and nor were they imperative enough to gain my attention. Discovering how much suffering my body was enduring would probably only make matters worse in the current situation, as I had no way to help them.

I stared into the growing darkness of the passageway, hoping that it was cooler than the room we had just traversed. Perhaps the cold would help to soothe my pain.

***

After a long discussion with the small group of rhyhorn, Azure and Tarla had come to the conclusion that the best and most appropriate way was not to collapse the ceiling, as some of the more ambitious – and, as Azure thought, unintelligent – rhyhorn suggested, but for the glaceon to project a rather flat bridge of ice across the enormous opening to the other side of the room, where the land started up again. When discussing where the void could possibly lead, Thunderquake had suggested that it probably ended somewhere in a large room deeper underground, possibly where one would unfortunately have immense trouble getting out of.

Although the bridge had been wide, it was more than difficult for Azure to produce. She didn’t permit herself to use a simple move such as ice beam to craft something that needed to firstly be level on top, but also wide enough. Instead she had to launch ice shards into the other side of the wall which was used to support what she planned to lay on top. Icy wind helped to chill the air, and it was only then that she used ice beam to create a solid bridge, first lining the far cliff and then extending on it until it finally met with the rock face she was standing by. It was not entirely flat, but she believed that the imperfections would serve as foot holes and small barriers. She was asked to make walls for it, but her energy was rapidly depleting, and was hardly able to make a short “fence” in either side.

It was a popular request that she test it, and although Tarla had been extremely wary and worried for her, she made it across without slipping. Tarla assumed that her paw pads were specifically designed for icy terrains, as she had perfect traction the entire way across. When the bird pokémon herself had gone, she found that her toes and claws were extremely slippery and she had to use her right, uninjured wing several times to steady herself, understanding that she could only begin falling to the right, as her injured left wing could not save her if she toppled the other way.

Eventually all that were coming with their party were able to cross, although awkwardly and not without losing one of the geodude. The rhyhorn often went too slowly to fall, and although the glaceon had been excessively afraid that one of them would prove to be too heavy for her makeshift bridge and splinter a weak point, the ice had been solid and stiff, and if only one rock type passed at a time, there were no weight problems. The geodude, however, had been unable to grip the edge and merely slipped straight off. The thought continuously haunted the ice type as she trudged solemnly alongside her fellow colony member, traversing a tunnel that supposedly led somewhere useful.

The tunnel had come a room filled with low-set stalactites, and they were each forced to weave between the points and avoid being pricked. Azure’s shoulder suffered one such injury, and a few times, a rhyhorn had to smash one of the hanging stone pikes in order to fit past. Tarla was always nervous when it happened, as she was irrationally afraid that every spike in the room would come crashing down. Some of them were short and easy to pass under, and it was those ones she grew wary of. Luckily no such thing had happened, and they instead curved with the room to the right before popping into a tunnel that they knew was directing them somewhat east.

It wasn’t long before the passages exampled that they had a mind of their own and began to split into several side tunnels which chose assorted directions, and the group of around twelve pokémon weaved their ways through the maze-like arrangement of tunnels before, finally, they had come into a rocky pass that bore a small pool and boulders. The walls were rippled and the floor was scattered with imperfections in both forms of lumps and indents which varied in sizes. There was an odd glow from somewhere which illuminated the passage in an odd florescent green glow, and although Azure and Tarla had no idea where it was coming from or how it was green, they assumed that perhaps a light source from somewhere had moss covering its entrance, or maybe that was the colour light became underground.

Finding it a pointless waste of thought, Azure shook her mind from it and tried again to focus on something that didn’t remind her of the geodude incident. The imagery was clear in her mind: the rock type casually sliding himself across the ice, using his arms to propel him when he put his hand down to push himself, but the rock merely slipped, and he jerked to one side. His body simply bumped over the small side fence Azure had tried to create, and frantically he grasped at the bridge’s edge. His hands slipped anyway...and he dropped straight down.

Nothing could impede his fall as he vanished through the void in a mess of desperate requests for help. Nobody in the cavern was able to do a thing, however, and although Tarla was blamed for not flying after him, Azure knew that even if she could have flown, the weight of the geodude’s body possibly exceeded her limit. She knew that she herself was heavier than a geodude as well, and if she was the one who slipped, then the altaria might have been unable to save her too. Then again, she did not know the extent of the pokémon’s abilities. Nevertheless, the rock and ground type was not seen again, and she could only imagine that the pokémon could have split when he came in contact with the ground, however far away it was. She felt it natural to blame herself, although she heavily resented such feelings, and tried to convince herself that there was no way to cross and the geodude was the one at fault. As the hours passed and she failed to be rid of the guilt, she wondered if it would ever leave at all.

Simultaneously, she dared the thought that perhaps she didn’t deserve relief. However absurd the thought may have been, she questioned it seriously. Thankfully she stopped paying the issue attention when the cave took her, and she examined the walls with notable interest. Tarla was showing a similar level of curiosity as they both scanned the walls and approached the pole, eagerly lapping up the cool water once they deduced that it was safe. Halfway through, the group began to swarm to where they were, obviously interested in drinking some for themselves. After Azure and her fellow colony member were finished, they began to travel on, wondering what lay beyond. Azure quietly wondered to herself if they were close to the exit, but had no interest in exchanging conversation with the rock types. Luckily she didn’t have to.

“Um,” Tarla began, trying feebly to get the rhyhorn’s attention. “Does a room like this mean that we’re close to exiting the tunnels?”

Thunderquake was the one to look up. “It does not take one sign to determine that,” she grunted, and then returned to her water.

Tarla raised her brow and moulded it into a frown before facing Azure again. “Apparently they don’t know.”
The glaceon turned away, less than interested in what the rock types had to say. She observed the walls surrounding the pond, which dipped in and thus was a small half-cylinder before the walls levelled out again, and observed the rippling mint reflecting off the surface. It was almost enchanting, and as if the walls themselves were made of water. It didn’t take long before she tore away, however, and looked to the end of the room. She tried scenting the air for any hint as to how close they were to the mountains, if that was even possible, but, as she expected, nothing came to her nose and she was left to clench her teeth in angst.

She was tired of being cooped up underground, even if it had been less than a day, and dearly hoped that she wouldn’t have to spend the night inside it. She could only imagine that odd creatures would emerge from their sleeping spots and attack. As she glanced to the shaft of light peeking through a hole up above, the length of which was quite long, she questioned whether or not they would be able to see once the light was completely blocked out. That alone was reason enough for her to want to escape the underground maze-like prison, and she was already beginning to miss the smell of grass and the fragrance of flowers. On top of that, she was growing hungrier, and she craved meat, the likes of which she hadn’t tasted in days.

She felt herself begin to shake with the thought of spending the night in the tunnels or caverns; she found it suspicious that they hadn’t run into any predator pokémon already, and wondered if they had been lying in wait the entire time, ready to strike but waiting for the right moment. All the while, their beady eyes were fixed on their group, laying a large target on their backs in their ignorance. Because of such feelings, she constantly turned around and checked behind, hoping there was nothing there but realistically being unsure.

She flicked her head up beside her, where Tarla stood. She was tall and proud, and somehow, being significantly taller than her gave Azure reassurance for some type of safety. Relaxing, she breathed a sigh. “Tarla, I...don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

The altaria glanced to her, an expression of bored contentment splashed across her face. “What do you mean?”
For a moment Azure was hesitant to admit to fear, or even anything that she was unsure about, and was about to blow it off when she responsively blurted, “The caves make me anxious.” The way her mind had chosen to word it for her, she figured, wasn’t too bad, so she left it how it was.

She waved a suspicious glance about. “I’m not too fond of them either. I can’t understand how anyone can live down here.” She didn’t meet the glaceon’s eyes as she surveyed the room in dissatisfaction. “No fresh grass, not enough light...no trees...” She gave her head a brusque shake. “Well, at least we know where to come if we ever have to dispose of any bodies.”

The glaceon turned to her, a little shocked, as the altaria casually reassigned her line of sight to the glaceon. The quadruped’s eyes were questioning enough and Tarla needed no longer to chortle and respond that she was only joking. The glaceon, normally aware of when words and phrases were serious or not, was confused at herself for taking the bird pokémon so literally. Embarrassed, she tore away from her fellow colony member and approached the entrance to the next tunnel, which, in comparison to the lit room, looked as shadowy as a gengar.

A little agitated, the ice type whirled around and addressed the rhyhorn from across the room. “Are you planning to break any longer?” Before allowing them to respond, she quickly added, “I think we should get moving as soon as possible.”

“What’s the rush?” a rhyhorn questioned, his face moulded by the patient befuddlement that riddled his tone.

“We are in no way interested in delaying your dismissal, glaceon, but taking the time to rest could ultimately save you the trouble of wounds you would have acquired if you were too weary to otherwise avoid.” Thunderquake only looked at her while speaking and then decided to return to the pond. “Resting is a tactic.”

Azure snorted, gritting her teeth. She couldn’t help but wonder how quickly the sun would be sinking soon, as the rays of light shining though the hole were of a faint orange hue, and soon strengthened in colour, bouncing off the walls and mingling with the green to create a strange brownish colour in some places. She seethed at the thought of remaining in such a dank and despicable place any longer. She was growing more and more nervous, imagining actually getting wounds and being unable to find treatment for them. Immediately she thought of Dusty, and feared a wound like hers. It looked horrendous, and the glaceon found herself willing to do nearly almost anything to avoid such a fate.

She felt an odd sense of calm suddenly flow into her as the altaria followed past her and sat her fluffy mass beside a wall, right near where the entrance to the next section was. Azure searched for her anxiousness where she thought she would find it and only dug up a little, hesitant to reach deeper in case she uncovered more than she could handle, and stood, watching the sitting pokémon. Around her, the odd emerald light untouched by orange cast a blanket of colour on her which did not match her pelt at all, and the walls, looking almost moist, were probably going to make her feathers glue themselves together.

In the midst of the unconscious observation, Azure realised that, amongst all the unfamiliarity, the altaria was someone she had known for years. They never particularly spoke to one another, but their respect for the other was mutual, and for that the glaceon was thankful. They shared a general colony bond, but even that was enough in a place so frightening and questionable, and she was suddenly grateful to have the altaria by her side.

Breathing calmly through her nose, the glaceon padded leisurely to the flying type and lay beside her. Tarla flashed her a stiff smile and the glaceon summoned one in response, understanding that the gesture was probably made to encourage comfort. She had never known that side of the altaria, but she was just glad it existed at all.

When the rhyhorn deemed it suitable to start moving, Tarla and Azure were more than happy to move off at the same time. Azure had grown impatient and resolved to taking a nap, although she knew that Tarla kept herself awake, and had been woken when Thunderquake made the decision to press on. She wouldn’t have waited for her if she didn’t claim to know the way out, or understand a vague direction in the least, but considering she did, she knew she would have to suffer the wait until they were able to move off all at once. She had complained a little to Tarla, but knew the altaria was hardly interested in discussing it, and for good reason, she assumed.

The tunnels they travelled through and the caverns they spilled into didn’t differ much from one another, and, in fact, Azure thought they looked the same. Tarla briefly agreed, although she was able to differentiate a little better. Thankfully they came across another pool of water that dipped out from under one of the cave walls and they managed to drink from that, and although Azure wasn’t sure where it had come from, she assumed it was probably a part of another lake.

It was obvious that it had become nighttime when they finally emerged from the caves. Azure beamed with joy and scuttled about the place, having emerged into a tiny clearing which was surrounded by rock of great height about her. It was surprising to see that there were more caves around her, and as she observed them on her left and right, she realised something. They weren’t completely out of them yet. The only paths to take were ones back through tunnels, and with a heavy heart and newfound disappointment, she groaned, flopping down on the ground and resting her chin upon the thin grass. When Tarla emerged from behind her, she didn’t bother looking back.

“Come on, Azure. It’s not that bad. Take it in and then we’ll keep going.”

The glaceon only huffed and remained still, clearly uninclined to move at all. “I don’t wanna.”

Tarla pressed her break together as she heard the rhyhorn from behind draw nearer. “The sooner you get up, the sooner we’re out outta here. I don’t like these rotten caves either!” She craned her neck, feeling a little strain from the wing. “Bird pokémon aren’t meant to live underground.” She kept her head still, watching the clouds pass by before they were blocked out by the walls of rock. As much as she hated to admit it, the underground caves and tunnels only reminded her further of the fact that she was incapable of flight. A flying type would never once consider life underground, unless their other type warranted them to, but the thought of making a home beneath the surface disgusted her. She wasn’t sure how ground types did it, let alone her kind, who were not at all designed for such a thing.

Azure, seeming not to notice a shred of her colony mate’s pondering, gave a sigh and slowly pulled herself up. The rhyhorn shortly caught up to them and passed them, and at that, the glaceon felt herself growl. She knew she had caused that, and told herself that she planned from then on to focus. As the altaria had stated, the sooner she got going, the faster she would get to the mountains. “We’re already in the mountains,” Azure added, for some reason only just registering the information for the first time.

Tarla slid out of her thoughts and gave a brief nod. “That’s what I meant. If we keep going, we’ll escape the caves quicker and pop out somewhere else. Judging by the fact that we wound up here, in the middle of this small clearing out of the caves on this cliff, I’m going to say that the tunnels from here on out will be much shorter than the ones we just crossed through.”

The eevee evolution considered her statement and agreed before setting off, the altaria behind her. The latter lingered a little longer to absorb the sight of the sky and yanked a few strands of grass from the ground to swallow before she moved off.

***

“Do you think we’re getting any closer?” questioned Etire, who walked between the group of four pokémon. When nobody responded, he narrowed his eyes a little. “...Anyone?”

“I don’t know,” Maka sighed, clearly failing to rely on memory. Instinct was another thing, but it seemed just as unreliable. “If we just keep walking this way...”

“Well this better end soon,” the houndoom grumbled, fitting behind the rhyhorn and krinar as he attempted to keep his balance. They were crossing a narrow bridge with water on either side, and judging by the rank smell, it did not have anywhere to flow. It had properties that frightened off even Splash, who didn’t dare enter, which was also concerning. He had screwed up his face – the first sign of proper emotion Maka and Zaion had seen on him before – and refused to enter it at all. The rhyhorn and houndoom had no initial interest to enter anyway, so they ruled out the possibility even before they knew how wretched it smelled.

“Does anybody know what’s actually wrong with it?” Etire questioned, clearly out of ideas himself. Zaion lifted his head with a particular expression.

“Really? You can’t guess?” he chuckled, a little baffled by the pokémon’s inability to understand. When Etire shrugged, a little offended, and tried to back himself up by stating that he wasn’t a genius and was better with his body than his mind, Zaion gave a small snort of amusement. “It’s infested with faeces. You know...crap.”

“What?” the krinar questioned, stopping to turn around and express his bewildered expression. He felt his cheeks redden, clearly embarrassed by his failure to pick up on it. “Uh, well...umm...whose faeces?”

“Whoever lives here,” the houndoom responded, and although he hadn’t meant to be ridiculing, he noticed that it was exactly how his words turned out. “Look up there,” he advised, indicating the endless opening up above them. “It’s some giant space from the floor above, however far away that is, where pokémon clearly live. This water has nowhere to go and nowhere to come from, so it sits here, infecting itself with whatever gets dumped in there.” He cringed at the thought of his mental image, and tried not to illustrate his words.

“That’s disgusting...” Etire groaned after some thought, and Zaion raised his brow with a few nods.

“No kidding.”

Suddenly a whooshing sound met their ears. With alarm, Maka froze, causing those behind her to halt as well. Splash stopped last, being at the back of the line, and stood placidly while the others looked frantically about. None of them spoke as the sound grew louder, and it soon became apparent that something was falling from above.

With a flick of shock, Etire spotted some sort of tiny dot which expanded until it was nearly upon them. As he stared up, watching it approach, he realised that it was about to fall to their right, narrowing missing them, and land in the pool. Gritting his teeth and calling out in surprise, he watched as the boulder did just that, plunging into the water and creating an enormous wave to rise from its depths and loom over them.

All four let loose a cry of surprise and discomfort – except for Splash, whose call was a happy “Quaaag!” – as the dirty water splashed over them all with a powerful force. Splash, Etire and Zaion tumbled off the ledge and into the water, the latter two gasping for breath as they fought to remain above the waterline. Splash disappeared below the surface and rapidly tunnelled his way to the other end of the pool, leaping out of the water and shaking off on land. Etire struggled, his style of swimming inadequate and unable to keep him properly afloat, and was evidently weighed down by the consistency of the water. The houndoom managed to make his way to the shore and haul himself up, shaking violently as he fought to rid himself of the disgusting substance caking his coat.

“A little...help!” Etire gurgled, keeping his mouth shut afterwards. Zaion glanced at him, highly uninterested in going after him.

Maka’s attention was placed elsewhere, however, as she stared into the pool on her right, where the presumed boulder had fallen. Her heartbeat was rapid as she searched the waters from above with her eyes, unable to see past the floating muck which had separated in places. “Help, guys,” she began, somewhat desperate. She whirled around to Zaion and Splash, the former of whom a little surprised at her reaction.

“He can get out himself,” the houndoom responded coolly, glancing quickly to Etire, who was slowly floating to the edge with a knotted brow.

Maka’s eyes widened in some form of outrage. “Not him,” she began harshly, gesturing to the pool she was turned towards. “The geodude who fell! He’s probably drowning in there!”

“What?” Zaion questioned quietly, his disbelief prominently showing. “A geodude? ...Wasn’t it a—”

“It wasn’t a boulder, and doesn’t matter why he fell,” the rhyhorn shouted. “What matters is his survival, and I can’t go in there after him or I’ll suffer the same fate.”

“So will I,” he answered roughly, completely unsure how to resolve the problem. Tentatively he turned to Splash, who was watching the situation with subdued contentment. He had no idea if Splash would listen to him if he told him to swim in after the geodude, or even if he would make it back up to the surface, and made the decision to try anyway. “Splash, you need to do what I say.” He glared at the quagsire, who didn’t even face him. His hopes of conveying a message, and before the geodude drowned, were beginning to dwindle. “You need to go in after that geodude. He’ll drown if you don’t; you’re the only one out of us who can swim properly, and if you don’t think you can do it...you can at least try.”

He held his breath and stared at the quagsire, who still only just stood in place. When Etire shouted out to him, finally at the shore, the quagsire didn’t meet his eyes. Maka was beginning to feel desperate as she dug her claws firmly into the ground, her large jaws compressing and her eyes fogged by the unease and fear she felt for her fellow rock type. She had explained the nature of a situation entailing a rock type in water to her travelling companions earlier, and shook her head firmly at the idea that someone before her might have to live it. It was a reality she had never seen, only heard about, and instantly she knew that it was a reality that was closer to being real than she had ever expected. Before now, it had simply been a tale – a horrifying one she didn’t doubt the credibility of – and had not imagined it would happen to anybody she knew.

Time was running out, and the rhyhorn could do nothing but stand and stare. “Splash...” She flicked her head to him, and to her surprise, managed to catch his eye. “He’ll die.”

For an unspoken reason, the quagsire’s mouth closed and for the first time, Maka saw a flash of emotion. He frowned. Following his frown was his quick blunder to the waterhole and then his disappearing form, hardly splashing water as he entered. The krinar, who pulled himself ashore from the other side of the pool and yanked his feet from the water, glanced to Zaion, who was staring, shocked, at the pool to his left and the rhyhorn’s right. He couldn’t quite fathom why the water and ground type had listened to her at all.

Maka hardly appeared surprised, but was instead focused on what lay before her. She waited in anticipation, the same as the others, for the result of Splash’s endeavour. She hoped desperately that he would reappear with the boulder-like pokémon in his hands, and suddenly wondered how deep the pool was. If it was too far down, Splash might not have been able to lift the geodude to shore. She remembered, however, that everything was apparently lighter in water, and hoped that the aid it could give would make it notably easier.

A few seconds later, the quagsire emerged, the geodude in his strong paws’ grip. The boulder-like pokémon was immobile and his limbs dangled from his body. The only sign of hope she had was his closed eyes, figuring that if he hadn’t made it, there was a chance his eyes would have been open. As she watched, the pokémon was laid upon the shore and Splash hauled himself out, shaking off and sprinkling the nearby ground with dirty droplets. The houndoom stayed back for that very reason, and presumably when he deemed it safe, he raced to the rock type’s side.

“What’s the status?” questioned Maka as she neared the geodude, speaking specifically to Zaion but allowing room for anybody listening to respond. That was only the krinar, who hobbled over shortly after.

“I don’t know,” the houndoom blurted, unsure how or what to diagnose. He tried examining the body from the outside, but a physical state was yet undetermined.

“Does anybody know what to do?” Maka asked a little desperately, hoping there would be a sudden suggestion or knowledge for what to do. She had no idea what specifically she and the others would do for him, but figured that, in time, they would either learn or...accept whatever fate may befall the stranger. She nudged him with her nose, acknowledging but trying to ignore the stench that wafted from his solid form, and rolled him over. His arms flopped lazily as his mouth separated, and she cringed, noticing some of the disgusting waste water trickle in through the sides of his mouth.

Wasting no time, the houndoom drew his head back and summon crackling flame before expelling it from his jaws, dousing the geodude instantly. The response was not immediate, but Maka’s shock was, and before she could tell him to call it off, the rock pokémon began to stir and slipped from his unconscious state with coughs, splutters and an absent set of waves from his arms.

“What!” was all he managed, his eyes looking about in confusion. The fire cleared from his sight and he began to absorb his surroundings. His reaction was to straighten out his arms, his mouth ajar with surprise before he hopped a few paces away, in the direction the mob was heading. He quickly realised that there were rises in the earth further on, and understood that he was unlikely to escape in the event that he would need to.

Maka, noticing his response, captured his glance and spoke to him slowly. “We won’t harm you, friend.”

The geodude watched her intently, scanning her up and down before stopping on her eyes again. “If you do, then you’re stupid.” He waited a moment before switching to the houndoom.

“I would say ‘let’s try this again’ and have you thank me for waking you up, but I think your mind has been made,” he shrugged, either uninterested in trying to convince the rock type, or simply didn’t care about gratitude.

There was no reply from the geodude before the krinar spoke up. “Hey, you really should thank him. And him.” He nodded to Splash, who stood contentedly, not looking at anything specific. The geodude followed Etire’s eyes and stopped upon the quagsire, clearly noticing something amiss.

When he didn’t respond, Zaion heaved a patient sigh and turned toward the other end of the cavern. He said nothing as he strolled away, and tentatively, Maka headed on after him once she thought she had stood on the spot long enough. She eyed the rock type as she passed him, as did Etire, who followed. The stranger was left to sit, appearing to be mulling things over in his mind.

“He was grateful,” Maka muttered grudgingly once she caught up with Zaion. Splash and Etire dawdled behind, although the latter had a reason to do so. “And after all that concern I wasted on him.”

“It’ll probably pay off,” the houndoom predicted, shrugging a little. “What’s the bet he’ll come running back – well, hopping back – in, what...ten seconds?” He added that her concern would have given him something to consider, but the rhyhorn was a little sceptical.

“Really?” she uttered bluntly, and the houndoom shrugged, nodding his head coolly.

“In four...three...two...one...” He lowered his head as he progressed.

Silence invited another voice, but when none came, Zaion was left to listen to the emptiness of the room, filled only by the pattering of the four pokémon’s feet. A little disappointed by his failed prediction, he scowled. “Well, it was worth a try.”

The rhyhorn eyed him a little strangely before sighing and glancing behind, watching the dumbfounded – or just rude – geodude whose body was still glued to the floor. He merely watched them go, possibly a little lost for what to do himself.

“Hey,” Etire called from shortly behind, earning the attention of the rhyhorn and houndoom. He laid his eyes on the former. “Isn’t that geodude from your herd? I haven’t seen any living here so it seemed weird that this guy might be on his own.”

Maka’s expression hardened, but she slowly shook her head. “I don’t recognise him. He evidently didn’t know who I was either, so...maybe he was from another part of the clan that I didn’t converse with.”

Etire made a noise of acknowledgement and frowned a little, figuring that he must have somehow been right. Maka was a little disheartened by the fact that the geodude had not been grateful, especially if he was from her clan, although she couldn’t say that ingratitude hadn’t been shown to her before, but had also not been expected in this situation. She figured she would be best just to forget the situation instead of waste thought on it.

After a time of travelling, the four encountered slopes and rises time and again, and Zaion wondered if they were finally being led to the surface. The thought had flashed to his mind a few times, and he was indeed excited by the prospect, which seemed a likely outcome. If they were low enough down to be at the receiving end of a falling geodude, then they were obviously not at the highest level in the caves. It left room for many more floors, any of which he knew could lead them out.

At one point, the tunnel was a spiralling ramp ascending to the top floor above, which they reached and met with several paths. It was difficult choosing one that all three agreed on – as Splash was content to follow any of them without question – and much of the time, two were in agreement while one opposed. Democracy was condoned by Zaion but loathed by Etire, who believed that a physical fight had a better chance of achieving a resolution. However, when the houndoom asked him to test that theory, the pokémon remembered his injuries and withdrew his statement.

Eventually the time came when the cavern brightened significantly, as previously, the fire type was required to use his flame to light the way. The exercise did get tiring, and he was glad for some natural light. However, the presence of light wasn’t just comforting and convenient—it meant they must have been near an opening of some kind, such as a window or, if they were lucky, a way out. Once voicing his opinion and hearing the others groan and nod in response, he cleared his throat and began looking about the room. Obscured at first by a stalactite was a small hole in the ceiling which let in a considerable amount of light in a blocky shaft, which he could see as he passed under it, and called his companions over to see for themselves.

Etire was the last to arrive, and when he looked up, his face brightened. “Does this mean we’re close to the surface? Finally?”

“Do not be deceived,” Maka warned, and the other two looked at her in concern. The comment made it sound as if she had experience with similar things.

“What do you mean?” the psychic and fighting type questioned.

“Just because there’s an opening here, it doesn’t mean we’ll suddenly find our exit.” She threw her head to the opposite end of the room. “We have no choice but to keep moving, but try not to get your hopes up.”

“Yeah, but we’ll get out of here at some point,” protested Etire stubbornly, as if keen to gain confirmation from her that escape was at least a possibility. He was a little discouraged at her words, which made it difficult for him to summon the necessary motivation to continue. He knew that he had no choice, as she had mentioned, but he found it easier nonetheless to have a proper goal.

“Duh,” Zaion muttered with a little amusement, keeping his brow raised and his smile freshly tantalising.

Despite the low hopes they had for an escape to meet them quickly, they each continued on, Splash wandering happily behind. The stench from the pool had not worn off, and every now and again, the males would be reminded of their adventures in the rancid water. Maka smelled it as well, but she kept ahead of the group to avoid any directional wafts. Nobody questioned her decision, but it didn’t exactly comfort them. Splash didn’t seem to mind.

“There goes my stomach,” Zaion commented with a shred of humour as a rumble reverberated from his midsection, and immediately the krinar turned to him.

“I am so freaking hungry!” he bellowed, slapping both of his hands to his torso. “Does this place even have food anywhere at all? I haven’t seen a single plant...or fruit. I’m really craving fruit.”

“Fruit,” laughed Zaion in a muffled chuckle. “I need some fresh game between my jaws. It’s what the elite consume.”

A look of questioning crossed the krinar’s face, but he refrained from reacting, as he knew the dark type’s words were a simple ploy to entertain himself with small bouts of meaningless arguing. “Don’t you think an elite pokémon would have gotten us out of here by now?”

“Being elite is not about taking responsibility for everyone else. Besides...” He flashed a sideways smile coated with cruel amusement. “I’m not the one in bits and pieces.”

“This is a battle wound,” argued the krinar in mild outrage, unsure if their banter was friendly or merely minor.

“Should I be sad that I don’t have proof that I survived a bombardment of terrible, horrifying pebbles?”

“Those terrible, horrifying pebbles blocked your way back to the chamber the earthquake chased us out of,” the krinar retorted. “Perhaps they’re the real elite things here.”

“Case of the dreaded pebbles,” Zaion resigned, giving a neutral smile.

Etire was still confused about their argument’s status. He just sighed. “The point is, we should find something to eat.”

“We need to find a way out first,” the rhyhorn reminded him, and he sighed, nodding in agreement. “I have a feeling we’re on the right track...”

“We better be on the right track,” the fighting type muttered. “I don’t want to be stuck in here forever. As delightful as this little underground fieldtrip has been, I have a life to get back to. On the surface.”

“Nonsense,” the houndoom began with an amused scoff. “Your female friend is stuck here too. You got all you need to start an underground clan!”

The krinar was clearly uncomfortable with the statement as he didn’t reply, and Zaion wondered if he should have spoken at all. However, he had said it good-naturedly, and decided that if it was taken as an insult by the recipient, then he couldn’t do anything to change that.

Both males came to a halt when their rhyhorn friend stopped in her tracks. Having not paid much attention, Zaion and Etire shifted their gazes to what occupied the rock type’s attention, which looked to be something small and round. At first they had not a clue for what it could be, but that soon changed when the rhyhorn, extremely curious, moved towards the patterned ball. When she reached out to touch it, it suddenly uncurled, as if one simple touch was all it took to break its composure, and the olive pokémon’s white underside sprawled with it as it stretched out across the ground. Even outspread, the pokémon was only around half the length she was. It posed no immediate threat, as it was unconscious, and Maka stared at it with unknowing eyes. Splash sat contentedly beside Etire while the other three tried to assess the situation, unsure of what to do.

“It’s not...dead, is it?” questioned Etire slowly, and Maka shook her head, eyes still on the sandshrew before them.

“No, she’s...not. She’s just unconscious.” She looked up, her face one of concern. “I think we should try to help her.”

“How?” asked Etire sceptically; he had a feeling that he would have to carry her based on the fact that he had more versatile limbs than the houndoom or rhyhorn. He hoped she would be willing to carry the pokémon on her back instead.

“I’m...not sure, but if there are predators in here, we should bring her somewhere safe.”

“We need to bring ourselves somewhere safe,” added Zaion, and Maka held her breath. “What do you propose we do?”

She looked to Etire. “Lift her onto my back.”

The krinar eyed her for a moment before glancing to the houndoom, then followed her request. Despite the injuries he had sustained, he was able to hoist her up with the help of Zaion’s curved horns, which, given there were two of them, provided suitable support. Once the sandshrew was set upon the rock type’s back, she glanced around, trying to spot her but having trouble due to her intruding armour.

“We don’t even know if we’re close to the end. And that pokémon could weigh you down...” commented the psychic and fighting type, and the rhyhorn focused on the path ahead.

Zaion joined with her gaze. “Now what?”

Without looking to either of her companions, she answered, “We continue.”


---------

FINALLY. That's all the chapters so far. xD Remember, if you read this, PLEASE leave a comment so I know! :D Thank you for reading!

[Suicune's Fire]

Chapter Nineteen: Tasting the New Life

Zhol grimaced as the first numel thudded against the ground, the ears of his so close together twitching. She held her left arm with her right set of claws, letting a breath seep in and back out again through her small nose. As inclined as she felt to assist her scyther acquaintance, she knew was simply too weak. That rock slide had really taken its toll on her, especially when she had slammed into the ground without being able to cushion herself in any way. Normally she wouldn’t be so drained after one hit, but reasoning with herself, she realised she didn’t often deal with rocks and had not many defences against them. She was just glad she’d arrived in time to free Dusty.

Dusty. She’d sped off into the trees which would surely decrease in number as the rocky plains drew nearer, and those two sandslash had been closely following. She knew they were strong, but Dusty was too. But judging by the wounds she had, Zhol was surprised the flareon was able to keep going when she wasn’t. She appeared just as beaten, if not more, and the sneasel never thought she was more experienced in battle than her. Maybe they were equal, but being a hunter, surely Zhol was higher skilled.

Her mind derailed as she laid eyes on a wave of fire circling away from the numb pokémon as Shard dashed backwards and to Zhol’s right as she watched with angered eyes. She tensed her arm muscles, attempting to regain some kind of strength, and stumbled towards them. She was confronted by the sandshrew as he emerged from the soil, striking her in the chin. She toppled over, her face beginning to pulse with beats of pain. In no time the ground type was back over her, straightening his amateur claws and raking her belly. In a fury Zhol swatted her right chunky paw above her chest and into the pokémon’s jaw, scraping as it fell from his face.

The sandshrew squealed, and the ice and dark type took advantage of the speed she always carried, using quick attack to stand and sprint past him, feeling his body land flat against the ground as she stretched out her arm on the way past. Her legs ached and her knee almost failed as she came closer to the numel, temporarily disappearing with the shadows and showing herself again sometime soon, shoving a blunt side of her claws into the fire type’s face just as he released a small shower of flames. The embers plummeted into her left foot, and she cried out, shaking it as the fire remained lodged on her skin.

As a result of the knock to the face Zhol had given, the numel’s neck swung and he came straight back with a headbutt, shoving the dual type’s paw out of range. As she was distracted and had to lean down to brush the embers aside, he reared back and slammed down again, the ground nearby shaking violently and creating splits which dislodged Zhol’s same foot. It slipped and she scraped her ankle as a sharp rock gashed its top, the rest of her body following and connecting with the ground as it failed to cease its trembling. The rocky ground continued to shift back into place, and she screamed, feeling a horrible pain as a bone or two in her foot crunched and begged her to leave them be.

Shard had no trouble as he hovered above the unstable ground, but he seemed to be otherwise immobile. Zhol, through generating tears and increased desperation, figured that something was getting the better of him. Either that or he simply and plainly refused to help, which was definitely not a suitable option for her, and did not seem like him at all.

The numel turned to the avoidant scyther and felt the hot magma inside his hump fizz and bubble before he unleashed another inferno, and it washed toward his enemies as Zhol’s eyes grew as large as oran berries. Shard gaped and began to flee, but as he laid eyes on Zhol, he sparked a fight with himself.

He couldn’t just leave her there. He was a protector; a warrior. He was not prey; he was a predator. He glanced down his left side, arguing internally. But as he remembered his duty as a scyther – and more importantly, as a friend – he landed and sped to Zhol’s frail frame just in time for the fire attack to hit. The scyther screamed, acting as a barrier before Zhol, and her eyes were wary and wide. She waited only a pawful of seconds before he released another cry as a second attack was launched, bending over and using his scythes to support what his legs couldn’t. He met eyes with the sneasel, and they had but a moment before he swung around with rage and swiped at the dual type behind him. The numel was beyond his reach, but there was no need for closer ranges as a blade of air sliced through the space between them, knocking the numel paces back. He pressed on his right scythe to prop himself back onto his feet, and he turned, facing the foe.

Zhol breathed a small gasp as she took in the scorch marks the lava plume caused, and focused back on her foot with an effort to free it as she tugged. It remained lodged between the halves of earth, creating an enormous inconvenience for her...especially as she captured the moving image of a sandshrew plodding in her direction, and suddenly curled up and quickened his pace—or roll.

She bit down and cried out, trying harder to wedge her foot from the trap, but it would not budge and it was simply too painful to yank at. Shard was busy dodging attacks and issuing ones of his own to notice, and Zhol could only fire shards of ice—which rebounded off the ground type because of his rapid movement. She had no idea what to do as he neared, and her leg screamed in pain as she tried once more to free it.

She was mentally and physically stuck.

***

The dark and fire type continued rumbling, and as one of the sandslash made her move, he leapt, clearing me completely. I felt a wave of relief as I realised he must have made a tragic miscalculation and jumped over his target entirely, leaving me with the perfect opportunity to escape the way he came. My muscles jerked, my mind settled, and...I stopped myself.

The houndoom had came down onto Angry Sandslash, and while she was busy being stood on, he shot a trail of brightly burning fire at Sandslash One. She held her claws up, hissing as the flames worked around her, and I was taken by utter surprise. Why was he attacking them and not me? Pushing aside the possibility that he could have been mixed up, I realised...he must not be the typical enemy I imagined him to be. He was not only helping me, but on my side!

He pushed off Angry Sandslash and moved back a number of paces, only a few metres from me. I turned to him, but before I could ask anything, Angry Sandslash propelled herself forwards and slammed into the houndoom’s body.

I gasped, racing sidewards and tackling her with immediate regret; the pain in my shoulders intensified, and I hardly knew what I was doing as I realised I was throwing myself in harm’s way for a pokémon I didn’t know. We were thrown across the soil while the houndoom shook himself off and targeted Sandslash One. Instantly I scuttled away from Angry Sandslash, almost earning myself another scratch, and stood back to view the scene.

The houndoom fooled his opponent, leaped over her head, and landed behind her before blowing a powerful mouthful of fire onto her spines. She shrieked, darting from the flames, and the dark and fire type whirled around to repeat his action on Angry Sandslash, who was about to attack me. The sandshrew evolution squealed as well and wrapped herself in her spikes, becoming that large, spiky ball again.

I eyed the newest edition to the fight. My suspicion was rising. “What’s with the saviour act?”

The houndoom stopped before me and lowered his eyelids, his mouth flickering into a sly smile. “I’d love for you to stay and chat, but you better get out of here.”

My head withdrew, and I blinked numerously. Had he just told me to leave? “Wh...”

“Just look at you,” he began, scoffing and running his eyes across just about every hair on my body. For some reason I suspected he was only making excuses to check me out.

“What?” I growled in return.

“You’re hardly in any condition to fight,” he pressed, glancing over his shoulder as Angry Sandslash uncurled and plodded to her companion. He looked back at me as I opened my mouth. “They’re not gonna stop now, so go. I’ll take care of them.”

I fumbled with my letters, dropping them and feeling them roll clumsily around my tongue until they formed real words. “What’s in it for you?!”

He snorted amusedly, flicking his long, thin tail. “Impressing a female,” he replied, and whipped around to face Sandslash One as she ran at him. He lowered his head and crashed into her front, and the ground type managed to stand her ground as she blocked his horns with her palms. “Go!” he shouted, his voice strained under pressure.

I barely debated with myself as I gave a heavy sigh and spun around, making for the bushes next to the stone. Once I cleared them, I halted and turned back. The male dual type slipped from the sandslash’s embrace as her inadequate claws failed to attain proper grip, and darted between the trees that led to the barren land beyond. The two enraged pokémon followed, and I watched as they disappeared in the complete opposite direction to me. Huffing, I turned and ran without another thought, leaving them all behind.

***

After a tussle with that spearow who attacked me earlier, I accidentally killed it and it landed in a pile of crap. I felt kinda bad...but at least I finally managed to catch something. Although when I finally did, what were the chances of it becoming inedible? Sure, everything on the inside might taste okay...but I had suddenly lost my appetite when it plummeted into that cursed crap heap. “Stupid wild pokémon...” I muttered, padding to the fallen flying type. I slipped its tail feathers between my toes and dragged it from its place, scowling and knowing I wouldn’t let myself even taste it. “I’m a freakin’ trainer pokémon! I can’t eat this!”

Thinking I may be able to clean it, I carefully chose a place to stick my fangs in. I carried it through the bracken and emerged before a reasonably sturdy scyther and a panting sneasel. Shard was on the rock level above, where we’d been prior to the fight. He didn’t notice me as I showed myself, but Zhol, on the other hand, saw me immediately and radiated a relieved expression. She was leaning against a boulder implanted into the ground, and one eye was closed with what I assumed was pain. I was surprised and less than happy to see her like this, and walked over to her weakening frame, dropping the spearow.

“You’re...back,” she heaved wearily. “Did you...lose those sandslash?”

“Oh, Zhol...” I murmured, ensuring she was propped up. “We need to get back to the colony...”

She cringed, and I couldn’t help but do the same at the sight of her. “Are they...gone?”

“Crap... What happened to your foot?” I asked with worry, taking in its crumpled and deformed appearance. There was a notable gash along the start of her claws on the top of her foot, and she was not using it for support. “It looks—”

“Dusty,” she stated firmly, her eyes narrowing as her breathing showing as laboured. I was slightly startled by the tone in her voice as she swallowed her anger. “Where...are the sandslash?”

“Oh,” I started, agitation sparking, “them. Some houndoom showed up and stole them.” I kicked dirt over the spearow with a front paw, and Zhol seemed to notice, a tad confused.

“Stole...them?”

Our conversation was tucked away for us to retrieve later as Shard landed with a thump beside us. He held a very mangled pair of buneary between his jaws; one was missing an ear. With disappointment trickling from his face, he set them down and grimaced. The skin above my eyes folded in as I groaned, annoyed to have lost dinner to a bunch of rocks...not that there was much meat between them anyway. I was sure Shard felt the same way until he turned to wipe his scythe against a rock, and a scraping noise wavered to my ears. I noticed the long stream of singed armour along his back, and that seemed to be what he was making the uncomfortable faces at.

“Shard, you...your back,” I stuttered, and he met my eyes as his body faced me again.
He flung his eyes over his shoulder, running them down. “...I’m fine,” he insisted, but I shook my head.

“I don’t think so. You sure don’t look it...” I then laid eyes on Zhol. “Neither do you.”

The sneasel’s lips curled. “You aren’t exactly in pristine condition yourself,” she remarked sharply, and I took a step back.

“I’m just sayin’!” I responded, wondering why she got so defensive. “How ‘bout that river you went to check out?” I asked her, addressing the scyther at the same time. “We could go get cleaned up before heading back.”

The pokémon both agreed, and we made our ways to the rushing water past the rock wall with many levels, and where the forest began growing again. I neared the water’s edge and immediately felt like spitting into it, and I barely bothered to clean myself. I just splashed the liquid along my right side were the wounds from shards that had stuck into me at one point were, and I had to dunk my face in to clear the skin of stones and grit (leaving my tuft soggy and dripping wet).

Zhol sat on the bank and applied the water with care, washing away any blood or muck that may have been caking her fur. Shard stood in the centre, too strong and hardy to be taken by the current, and at times he lay down and held himself still to cool the burns on his back. After I was done with myself, I dipped my catch into the river and scrubbed it against a rock—which helped clean the excrement off, but coated it in moss and grime.

We stayed for nearly ten minutes before picking ourselves up and trudging back to the colony, using a shortcut behind the giant rock wall and eventually overtaking it once it levelled out. At one point I offered the bird pokémon to Shard, who accepted my gift and tore at it once we stopped for a single rest. He shared some with Zhol, and when I was offered some, I declined without a second thought. I thought he’d be able to smell the unpleasant odour, but apparently the water had washed it away.

“Why didn’t you want it? It was your catch, after all,” Shard had asked/mentioned, and I had given a sheepish smile.

“I...uh...dropped it in the river, and it...got...slimy?”

He’d been satisfied with that and we’d continued on, eventually arriving at our destination. By the time we waddled in through the east entrance, we were all about ready to collapse. We conveniently had another run-in with some wild ambipom and they’d somehow swiped me, placing me on a branch for their own amusement, and watched me teeter and topple from the unstable place. And it’s not like Shard could have caught me—unless I wanted a change from four to two legs.

The scyther had at least flurried to the treetops and pursued the annoying two purple jesters, but they’d given him quite a challenge as they weaved between branches and played tricks on him. I thought it’d never end until I threatened to burn their homes down, and proved I wasn’t bluffing by setting a tree on fire. They panicked and ran off, but clearly they didn’t know that a fire pokémon’s flames burn out quite easily. They began to smoulder, but to be sure Zhol cooled and muffled them with one of her ice moves. After that experience I’d be happy not to hunt for at least a week.

***

“...Am I better yet?” I questioned, and the floating dual type glanced at me once more, nearing my body. She inspected my covered wounds and asked me to stand up. I did, and she got me to lift my paws and jog on the spot. My bones ached, but weren’t too bad. I assumed they were freezing up, being in this joint, and I was afraid that if I tried to blow any fire, it’d disintegrate and fail to do anything but look pretty. Therefore I deemed getting up and doing chores as more desirable than staying in this...oddly clean, medicine-scented place. Though I was secretly relieved to have my wounds treated, my face buzzed and the many rock shard-inflicted wounds thudded as ice melted inside them. That was apparently the froslass’ way of treating exposed sores, and needless to say, if she was a flareon, she’d use anything but water based medicine.

She’d also smeared my face and every other open wound with a type of oil that she obtained by crushing and mashing leaves from a certain tree, and although I was told it would help disinfect them, it stung! On top of that, I was practically sealed off from the others; there were removable panels between us on either side, and I was in an end cell.

“You seem fully functional,” she replied softly, “and you won’t need any more bandages unless you really want them.”

“Yippee!” I cheered, inspecting the one piece of white material hugging my right front leg. I glanced to my right after exiting my cubicle, spying a dark figure lying inert, her belly rising and falling faintly. “Is she...okay?” I wondered, my concern getting the better of me. A wave of dread washed over me as I recalled my friend’s state before we arrived. “Her wounds weren’t...fatal or anything, were they?”

The froslass – Aemara – looked shocked. “N-not at all,” she quickly responded, and I sighed, feeling considerably thankful. “However,” she started, and I jerked my head to her immediately. She looked lost for the correct words. “She will not be out for a few more hours.”

I nodded after feeling my shoulders drop and I popped my head around to see Shard sitting on a hay-covered bench in the section next to Zhol, his legs hanging over the side. He looked up. “And him?”

“Shardclaw will be fine,” she told me, a weak smile brushing her face.

“Looks like getting to that river was a good idea,” he admitted, giving me a graced nod.

“Y-yes, indeed.” The froslass set down the object she’d been holding. “The cold slows the wound’s developing process.”

“Oh...and that’s why your clinic is all...icy and freezing?” I questioned, not thinking of that till now. She nodded happily, and I copied her motion. “Anyway...can I go now?”

“Yes, you may go,” she affirmed, and I was more than happy to begin my walk towards the exit. Thankfully the clinic had its own entrance (or exit, in my case) so I wasn’t forced to cross her adjoined living area to escape. I came to a halt before entering the sunnier realm, and threw my head over my shoulders. From the angle I was at, only Zhol’s feet and some of her arms and head could be seen. I felt my eyebrows fall. ‘Sheesh... That left foot looks terrible... I really hope her injuries aren’t too bad...’

After wandering the premises for something to do and coming across Mynk, I strode to Habib’s home by her recommendation. Only the slowqueen was home, and I sighed, wondering what she would issue me to do next. “Excuse me,” I began after poking my head in. “I need something to do.”

She pulled away from her bench, which Larse was on the other side of, and stated, “Oh! Hello, there. Would you like to come in?”

I wondered myself if I wanted to. “...Nah, I’m good here.” I was about to repeat myself as she seemed to realise why I was there.

“Oh, the hunting trip... How unfortunate.” She looked as if she was searching her mind when Mynk appeared beside me.

“Oh, hey again.”

“Hi, Dusty.” She turned to Ikari. “We will set out immediately.”

“W...where are you going?” I wondered, hoping not to be left alone.

Ikari answered my question as she got my attention. “They will be going hunting as a replacement for your group.”

“Ahh...” I answered, hoping Ikari wasn’t mad with us. After all...it’s not like it was our fault.

“I’m also ready,” mentioned someone from behind, and I turned to see none other than Azure. I flinched at the sight of her, but she didn’t, as she’d have seen me from behind.

“Good,” Ikari replied happily with a nod.

“But, Dame Slowqueen,” the linoone started, shuffling through the door. She continued as I looked to Azure.

“...What happened...to your group?” she asked awkwardly, and I wasn’t sure how to reply. Was she being patronising after seeing my battle wounds, or was she actually interested in what happened to us? I decided the most likely answer was that she wanted to know the reason she was being sent out in our place.

“Well...a random group of wild pokémon decided we were their enemies,” I mumbled, avoiding eye contact. “It was weird. They attacked us out of the blue.”

Before Azure had a chance to reply and right before I remembered that there was something important I had to ask her, I was addressed, and responded with the turn of my head. “There is a very important task I can give you,” the pink pokémon told me. I felt a smile poke me in the mouth, and I wondered what kind of special mission I was going to be assigned to. “Do you have experience with young pokémon?”

***

A body thudded against the wet ground, and a whimper emitted from the brown pokémon’s mouth. It was a question if anyone could really take him seriously though, since the large buck teeth he possessed were often classed as comical. “I-I’m sorry! I don’t know!”

A tiny rounded body stood firmly at his feet, overlooking the bibarel. “Not good enough,” he tormented, his eyes lighting up and a purple outline beginning to border the cowering dual type.

The Mr. Mime rolled his eyes, sighing placidly and making a clicking sound with his cheeks. “You’ll have to do better than that,” he shrugged while pacing. He moved his head. “‘Cause otherwise it’ll show up on that lovely lardy body of yours.”

“Dontcha mean there’ll be no body left for anything to show up on?” questioned the togepi, a malicious laugh making its way from his tiny mouth. The psychic type nearby chuckled in response.

“Yes...” He gave a sigh and turned to exit. He appeared outside, glancing to the transparent box of helpless captives as they squirmed for freedom. His eyes fell to the ivysaur standing guard, and asked, “Anything?”

The grass and poison type shook his head. “No, Shaz. Nothing.” He looked to his right as if it was to pretend he was distracted.

“Oh?” Shaz scanned his near-invisible walls. “Nothing...at all?”

“N-no. Apart from what we already know—that they came through here.” The ivysaur looked down, muttering, “S-sorry,” unsure if that was an appropriate response or not.

“It’s not your fault, kid,” replied the psychic type, placing a hand on his accomplice’s head. He was about to disappear through the entrance to the leader’s lodge when he stopped. “...I want you to investigate something for me,” he requested, sinking as his knees bent. The ivysaur was wondering and curious as he held a small mouth. “I want you to find out who else talked with them. And...use any means necessary of making them talk.”

He nodded hesitantly, exposing his vines as if for confidence. “Y-yes, Shaz.”

The Mr. Mime’s eyes fogged over with malicious intent, and he smiled, patting the ivysaur’s head. “Good boy.”

***

I’ve been a trainer pokémon my whole life. From the moment I could fight, I participated in battle after battle, striving for greatness to impress my master and weave into the spot of her favourite. On occasion she and I travelled through rough plains, Izante and her trainer there to keep us company, and I would fight off wild pokémon and harsh weather. I was a qualified warrior with high endurance and a sturdy work ethic.

Regarding that... In all honesty I had not expected to be assigned...to this. After being sent on a dangerous hunting mission, it was my duty to do something I’d never conquered before. It was the second task of my stay at the colony...and it was to babysit?

“Play with us, Miss Flareon!” droned a small child—Mynk’s daughter. She tugged on my mane with her stubby paws, and I pulled away, grimacing at her.

“Watch the fur!” I growled, and she stopped to stare. I nearly felt bad before she recoiled and came straight back.

“Mosst is hogging the climbing tree!” whined a small orange pokémon with blue fins on his forearms.

“N-no, I’m not,” protested a little heracross, shyly keeping her distance and stepping away from the trunk.

“Uh oh,” uttered a meditite, “I did an oopsie...” His face looked as if it had caught on fire as he blushed, and I didn’t even want to KNOW what an ‘oopsie’ was.

One spinarak stared intrusively at my tuft and asked, “Why is it so floppy?”

“You smell funny,” pointed out a rude aipom.

“Why are you so fat?” I was poked by that same buizel.

“IT’S FUR!” I shouted, causing the little one to hide behind a stump.

“Were you the one on the ship?” inquired a shuppet, and with an effort I ignored him.

I flung my head to a, “Can you teach us kung fu?”

“I don’t know kung fu!” I shouted, sending the offspring floating away in a river of tears. “Ugh...”

“Help me clean my toes!” yelled another, shoving a foot in my face.

“NO!” I rumbled, finding the very thought disgusting as I swatted the limb from my view.

“What happened to your tail?” wondered an oddish, and I almost fried him, but he ran off before I could.

“Did you have to go to the healing clinic?”

“I WANT TO BURY YOU!” exclaimed an excited gligar, clinging to a stump.

“What’s wrong with your ear?” a plusle questioned, and when she stood on her friend’s head to touch my bullet wound, I happened to realise and spun around, scaring her from her place.

Someone from the other side of me asked, “Where’s Uncle Luck?”

My face became a wrinkled mess as I hissed my reply. “Leave me...a—”

“I made you a mud pie!” someone else sung, presenting a glob of mud in their filthy paws.

“I falled over and hurted my tail!” complained a random azurill.

“My wing hurts more,” insisted an attention-seeking taillow, and I roared, explaining – rather loudly – that a scratch is nothing, and she should be thankful that I wasn’t eating her at the present moment... She flew to the other end of the daycare grounds.

“Excuse me,” interrupted yet another brat, and I began to wonder if they were ever going to SHUT UP, “can you help me make a sandcastle?”

I drilled my violent glare into the yellow pokémon’s seemingly closed eyes and watched him become shocked. “MAKE YOUR OWN BLOOMIN’ SANDCASTLE,” I began, feeling flames lick my throat. “Aren’t abra supposed to sleep for eighteen hours of the day?”

That one scurried off too, so I was only left with only...oh, TWENTY BA-JILLION. Realising this, I upped and fled, darting to the end of the grounds—the end Mynk and I had shared our discussion near. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw, thankfully, too many obstacles obscuring my vision for a sight of the frustrating kids...

“Excuse me,” asked the pokémon I could see coming towards me, and I was relieved to finally come across another non-child. “Need some help?” It was the heracross...Yuka?

“YES,” I responded dramatically, and he gave a chuckle.

“The name’s Yukra,” he added, and I shrugged. Nearly remembered it right.

“Dusty.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re the new kid on the block!” he teased, and I narrowed my eyes. But he chuckled once more, passing me with a playful nudge. I heaved a sigh, and if I had a FULL TAIL I’d have flicked its end in agitation.

He plodded in front of me as I dragged myself behind him, appearing before the lot of partially confused – but otherwise absent-minded – small pokémon. “Not again...”

The heracross turned to me, giving a warm smile. “Come on. They’re not hard to manage.”

I dug my paws into the soil. “They’re little horrors! And they won’t leave me alone.”

He chuckled and navigated his way through the bunch. I noticed as some stared timidly as I followed, and I just sighed, focusing my gaze somewhere else. We walked between structures and random sections before coming to a large tree whose branches stretched widely above and reached unexpected lengths throughout the grounds. “Mosst! Come here; I want to introduce you to someone,” Yukra explained, and a heracross crawled out from behind a tree, a shred of bark between her paws. She timidly shielded herself with Yukra’s sturdy legs, and he tossed a glance down his side, her eyes meeting his. “This is our new friend.” He raised a claw at me. “Say hello.”

With what I could see was courage, the dark blue pokémon first contemplated her stance, and secondly she began, “H...hello.” Once that was over she took cover behind the safety of his legs again, and honesly I didn’t know how to react. Clearly if I made too big of a movement she’d probably scurry away and never talk to me again, and I wasn’t sure if I thought she was a bit overdramatic for reacting how she did or not. Perhaps she’s just shy?

“Nice to meet you,” I replied, nodding and staying put. If I created distance between us, she wouldn’t feel like I’m intruding. There was no change about her, however.

“Okay, you can go now,” Yukra offered innocently, and the smaller heracross seemed hesitant at first, but then decided that her feet were to remain firmly planted. I wasn’t surprised: Yukra seemed like a very hardy pokémon and an appropriate protector. “Or...stay here.”

It nearly made me smile, the sight of father and daughter. “...Your kid’s cute.”

Yukra was nearly taken aback by my statement, and in response I eyed him strangely. “No, she’s not my daughter,” he stated, shaking his horn.

“Then...whose is she?”

“My sister’s,” he told me, and my immediate thoughts were questions about how many of these colony members had adopted smaller pokémon—from relatives or not.

Very softly the small bug type spoke up. “Mummy and Daddy are on holidays in the forest.” She stole an avoidant glance from her uncle, and I cocked my head.

“So you’re looking after...Mosst until they return?” I asked, realising it made sense.

He gave a mixed expression. “It’s...a bit complicated.” He met his niece’s eyes and added, “Yeah. That’s basically it.”

***

I’d very quickly accepted Yukra’s offer to join me for the rest of the day, since it meant I wasn’t left alone with a thousand crazy brats, and it actually hadn’t been too bad. He’d shown me around and told me a few things about it. “They were so jumpy and persistent because they haven’t been able to warm to a care taker in a while.”

“What about Wynore?” I had asked as we padded between little pokémon swinging and playing, chatting and running. Mosst was latched onto Yukra’s back, her arms hooked around his shoulders and her legs hugging his shell.

“I assume you noticed that she’s been acting...not herself lately.”

“Well, I’ve never met her before this, so I wouldn’t know how she is...as herself.”

The heracross had given me a look, and then he’d withdrawn it again. “She’s only this way because ol’ Lucky isn’t around.” A nearby rock took flight as his foot slammed into its middle, and I’d nearly flinched. “It means she sometimes has breakdowns, and for a short time the kids have nobody to look after them.”

At that stage I’d been surprised by how much bitterness stained his words, and I wondered what it was directed at. I figured it must have been the general fact of things going wrong, or it was possible he resented Wynore for her apparent uncontrollable action. Whatever it was he didn’t reveal.

By the time every parent turned up to retrieve their young it was sunset, and that too hadn’t lasted long. Currently I sat outside the healing clinic, waiting for Aemara to emerge and let me in. For some reason she had told me to wait until I was granted permission, and although that made me feel like I was taking orders from a stranger who didn’t have the right, I obliged and took a seat on the soil.

At least ten minutes had passed, and I sat twiddling my toes as several thoughts crossed my mind. Before taking on the unwanted mission of babysitting, Ikari had mentioned some kind of ‘colony meeting’ which apparently took place in a section of their land I’d seen before. It was before Den Row and between the lake and the fruit shed, and it was basically a clearing with logs centred around a campfire (which hadn’t been lit), so I assumed we were supposed to sit on the logs and have a discussion around the fire. I couldn’t say I was looking forward to it, but it sounded better than babysitting!

My wait dragged on until my ears pricked to a series of thuds, and it took me not long to determine that somebody was approaching. I whirled around to have my view obstructed by Shardclaw, who came to a halt behind me. Uncomfortably he took his place opposite me and we sat in silence.

I looked up after a while and caught his eyes darting from mine. I let a sigh warm my paws and he seemed to notice. “...Here to see Zhol?”

He appeared surprised to find that I was speaking to him, and made a hesitant nodding gesture. “Y-yeah...”

We kept silent for moments longer before I finally asked, “Were your injuries bad?”

“...Not really,” he muttered, avoiding my gaze. “A-a few scratches...burns along my back...”

“Guess your armour prevents serious injuries,” I mentioned, figuring that to be the reason he was practically unscathed by the boulders. I recognised the shallow gashes left by the two nutzo sandslash and I knew of the burns that were spread up his back and at the start of his wings. Apart from that all that seemed apparent was the collection of ancient scars which clearly weren’t fresh.

“Not all...but most,” he replied, glancing down his right – well, his left and my right – side where the scarring was most visible. It almost looked as if someone had attempted to fry him once before, rather than rip him to pieces. There were claw and tooth marks, however, yet I couldn’t help but suspect that fire had seared his armour long ago.

“So, do you know why those pokémon just decided to show up and ambush us?” I questioned. It was likely he didn’t but anything would be better than no answer at all.

“I’m afraid I cannot give you an answer,” the scyther replied solemnly, and I rolled my eyes, figuring that was typical. “Yet I find it extremely odd,” he mused, eying the ground before looking to me, then to a rock, then back to me.

“Aren’t you friends with your neighbours?” I asked with a shrug.

“They...aren’t exactly neighbouring pokémon...” he mumbled. “Some of the pokémon here might know the ones living in that area.” He drew a long breath as if to settling himself, and added, “Though I can’t be sure.”

I never knew much about neighbours myself, being a traveller my entire life, but I figured them to be friends of some sort. Going ahead and doing some sort of research would be beneficial and after my visit to my sneasel friend, I decided that, avoiding any other unwanted tasks, I could interview some of the colony’s pokémon to find answers.

“What strikes me as strange,” Shard began, and I turned to him again, not realising he had more to say. He seemed hesitant as he met my eyes. “Is that...after Zhol and I were attacked by a numel and a sandshrew, they had an advantage. Zhol’s foot had become wedged between the two sections in the ground, and my burns were fresh. Yet they...left.”

At first I had no idea what he meant by that, and I tilted my head. “...Waddaya mean?”

“The sandshrew was headed directly towards Zhol, and although I was too distracted to see everything, I caught enough to know he didn’t attack her while she was stuck. Then he sped past her curled as a ball and made his way to the rock ledge. He bowled some light rocks from the cliff edge, and they were easy to dodge, but by the time he stopped I noticed the numel beside him.” I titled my head as he continued, his face etched with concern and perplexity. “The rocks were a distraction for the numel to climb the ledges and get to where the sandshrew was, and then...they left. Not long after that you met up with us.”

As much as this puzzled me as well, I wasn’t exactly interested in sifting through details of the unknown. “Weird...” I left it at that and bother not to ponder it further. Changing the subject after a minute of no conversation, I queried, “How long have you known her?” At first he looked a little lost, at which point I decided to add, “Zhol,” and he gave a nod of recognition.

“It’s been...years now. Ever since she began living here as a young sneasel,” he answered, the awkward feeling slowly slipping from between us.

“Oh...okay.” As much as I was yearning to ask him how Zhol wound up at the colony, somehow I picked it as something that I would need to ask the sneasel herself. “Well...” I sighed, figuring I should save it for Zhol. I switched to a new question instead. “Care to...tell me your story?”

The scyther visibly flinched and I watched his wings sink. I came to wonder if I had asked the wrong thing, but it was wiped away as Aemara suddenly floated from her ice den after removing the thick, nicely fitting door with presumable psychic powers. I wasn’t aware she was part psychic type, and I came to the conclusion that she was also an ice type.

“O-oh, Shardclaw,” she began, clearly surprised to see him.

“Hello, Aemara,” he replied respectfully, bopping his head to her.

“And you.” She smiled and turned to me, and I stood up.

“Can I see Zhol now?” I stared at her, the anticipation killing me as the opposing pokémon said nothing. “...Can I?”

“Y-yes. However...” She trailed off and I nearly went in, but a blade suddenly appeared and I followed it back to Shard’s wary and disapproving face. He flicked his eyes to the ice and psychic type, leading me to do the same, and I exhaled. “She will need an escort everywhere she walks.”

To this news I lowered an eyebrow, wondering for what possible reason that would need to happen. “Why?”

“Her injuries are too great for her to rely only on her own strength. She will need others to support her.”

I gasped, remembering the state of that foot after I had returned from my encounter with the hoity-toity houndoom and his haughty heroics. No wonder she would have trouble walking... Her foot had looked ruined and completely unfit for using for support, and now that I thought about it, it had definitely affected her gait on our way to the colony.

Suddenly I felt worried. She couldn’t be seriously injured...could she? “L-let me in.”

The froslass complied and allowed me passage into her clinic, the chill that spiked every section of the air catching me off guard. However, it was nothing compared to the sight of an incapacitated Zhol lying feebly on an elevated mat of hay. “Zhol!” I squeaked, not expecting to see her in such a state. I padded, my head level with my shoulders, to her table and couldn’t help but sniff wearily. I closed the distance between us and swallowed. “Zhol?”

“Y-you shouldn’t wake her!” insisted Aemara as she floated in alongside Shard, but I clenched my jaws and pretended I knew better.

With a moan and a flicker of her eyelids, the sneasel came to life and edged her head towards me. Much to my surprise, she gave a somewhat soft smile. It almost seemed as if she was relieved to see me.

“Are you feeling alright?” I asked, trying to reflect her expression.

She gripped the edge of the bench with her right paw and pressed against the hay, her whole body rising. The other arm extended to her left foot as she seemed to inspect it, her claws touching the well-wrapped bandages. By this time her smile had thinned out, and her expression was that of conscientiousness and uncertainty. Her eyes fell to her torso, where the other pieces of cloth had been tied in the spot shallow gashes had previously scattered her skin. A thousand thoughts looked to be zipping back and forth through her mind, and honestly I hadn’t a clue of what her opinion on the material was. “Thank you, Aemara,” she finally mentioned, though not making eye contact with the floating pokémon. She didn’t sound too enthused, however, and I wondered if she really meant it.

“I-it’s my duty,” Aemara replied with a bit of a smile. “Please don’t overwork yourself. I suggest staying with the colony for the next week or two.”

At this Zhol almost jumped; clearly she hadn’t expected such a piece of news. Her brow furrowed as Shard stepped closer. “Your wounds are too great for you to be up and participating in something such as hunting or battling. It...would be foolish to expose yourself to more danger and risk an infection of some sort, or to have your wounds struggle to heal.” The scyther seemed to droop as he explained, and I could only guess he was disappointed or empathetic. My eyes scanned his left side quickly before averting to Zhol.

The sneasel stiffened as she absorbed what flew to her ears, and I continued to stare as I took it upon myself to add something else she would need to be aware of. “...Also, uhh...” I searched for the right words as she waited expectantly, all cheer ridden from her solemn eyes. “Well, you won’t be able to walk...without help.” I signalled to her crumpled foot as she followed, then met me at my spot again. I averted my accusing stare to Aemara, and she perked up, ready to listen. “Hey, can’t we give her crutches or something?” At first the other three stared at me blankly, and it was then that I realised that was a human term. “You know...a piece of wood like a walking stick that she can lean on for support?”

Aemara pondered before saying, “I’m afraid that will be difficult for Zhol to hold.” She looked to the sneasel’s paws. “Given she does not have thumbs...”

“Well then...secure her paw to it with something. Or put a hole in the wood somewhere where her paw can rest.”

“...I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” Aemara replied, trailing off. I knew she was resistant to create an argument of any sort, so I left it at that and merely rolled my eyes.

“Well...” Zhol looked to me. “I...I know it’s a l—”

“It’s fine,” she intervened, staring back at her foot. I could tell she was avoiding tension between us as she kept her eyes fixed, and she must have found it easier to suppress her feelings if she wasn’t connecting with someone at that moment. “It was foolish of me to be so reckless.”

Suddenly I felt myself relax and tense up immediately after. I raised my cheeks, but I was not smiling. “You’re...blaming yourself?” I questioned, finding the thought rather absurd. Especially when she had no control over the pokémon that did this to her, and it wasn’t her who attacked first!

Her hardened expression slipped from her grasp as she looked back to me. It was as if she was at a loss for words. Whether she realised it or not was uncertain, and I had to wonder why she was so shocked that I would point it out. My question hung in the air as she returned to her foot and asked, “Is the colony meeting soon?”

Having ignored my question, I ignored hers and let Shard answer. “Yes. As a hunter, you’ll need to attend.”

“As a member of the colony, you have to attend,” someone corrected rather matter-of-factly, and all four of us turned to the entrance. “Hey, Aemara.”

“Tarla,” the froslass beamed, her mood immediately brightening as she identified her visitor.

“Oh,” I grumbled inaudibly, “you.” The altaria’s appearance certainly didn’t excite me, and frankly I would have preferred not to have seen her.

“Yes, I’m aware,” Zhol responded without particular hostility; it sounded as if the sneasel had enough respect for the flying and dragon type to address her without attitude. For some reason I’d assumed she wouldn’t have liked her, but I supposed that was my job.

“Here to tell you that the colony meet will be held after nightmeal.” She nodded her head to Aemara, the froslass repeating the motion politely in return, and the intruder was out in a flash.

The silence returned to prod us in the backs before we looked to one another, and Shard focused his gaze on Zhol. “Would you like me to assist you?”

Zhol remained focused on her foot before she released her frown and nodded. The scyther made a swift movement to the side of the bench, seemingly unfazed by the burns stretched up his back, and held his scythes normally out in front of him as Zhol swung her legs over the side. She dropped to the floor and kept one foot off the ground, bending her left paw’s claws over the top of his scythe as a means of gripping it. She showed a weak smile before they began walking, her paw pressing down as her available foot hopped forward. The bug and flying type was clearly dealing without a problem as the added pressure to his supported scythe did him no disservice, and the duo made it to the exit without a hiccup. Shard pushed the door open with his shoulder, making his way out first, and held open the door while supporting the smaller sneasel at the same time.

Aemara smiled and turned to me as I strode forwards, slightly confused. I hadn’t helped her at all, and she seemed too occupied to see if I was following... I shook my head and paced forward, a timid voice catching my attention before I was within a metre of the doorway.

“E-excuse me,” Aemara began, moving around to my left, “but... Your hollow wound.” She moved her sleeve-like hand to point it at my thigh. “...May I ask how you got it?”

It took me no longer than a moment to figure she was referring to my bullet wound, and I knew she must have realised it was less than fresh, and therefore it couldn’t have happened during today’s fight. She flashed her eyes to my ear and it was obvious she knew of my ear’s problem as well.

“Uhh... I’ll explain...later,” I answered, feeling as if I was in the wrong position to talk about the ship and the events that took place. I figured I’d tell everyone at once, perhaps even at the colony meet if it was convenient.

The froslass wasn’t overly thrilled with my answer, as she was presumably concerned, but she could wait. As could everyone else I’d briefly told about the ship and why their colony members were missing.

The question I wanted to ask was why. Why was I the one to tell everyone and blabber on about the awful things that happened to us? ‘I guess I took on the responsibility the moment I decided to take matters into my own paws...’ I scowled and turned away. ‘It’s unfair...’

Strutting from the icy den, I stepped into the fresh air once more. Night was swelling and would soon engulf us all; everything had changed colour and the atmosphere was beginning to quieten. This would mean fewer distractions for when I relayed the anecdote...

I froze. I blinked. I felt a terrible pain extend through my stomach. ‘Oh, crap. Oh, crap. Oh, *****.’ I heard Aemara ask me if I was alright before I bit down and tensed my paws.

Not only would I have to tell the colony that their members were captured and about to be shipped off to some Team Rocket Headquarters, but...I’d have to tell them that one of them was murdered. That Luck was murdered.

‘How the HELL am I going to do that...?’

[Suicune's Fire]

BOOK TWO: UNCOVERED

Chapter Twenty-one: Confrontation

‘N-no... It...it can’t be happening. Not again,’ I told myself helplessly, but I was quickly losing faith.

The Mr. Mime managed a grin amidst his concentration, and the togepi kept his broad as he opened his mouth. “So, you know our colleague, do you?” he asked, and I couldn’t help but wish I wasn’t constricted by any kind of rotten bind. I wanted to fry that pokémon like the egg he was.

Sed, now evolved, was a timid ivysaur barely different to his previous self as a bulbasaur. However, there was a certain fire in his eyes. At first I mistook it for passion, but suddenly I realised it was nothing positive. ‘Revenge.’

“It...it was your fault!” he bleated hysterically, his face contorted with betrayal and agony. He looked uncared for, and I could only imagine what he had gone through. Still, I was obliged to ask.

“Sed...what happened to you? I...I thought you were...”

“Dead?” the togepi intervened, and I threw a glare at him—as best I could in my condition.

“I thought...Team Rocket...” I swallowed, hardly willing to admit my thoughts. “...I thought they executed you.”

The statement only brought forth the ivysaur’s anger, and it was entirely directed towards me. “Shut up!” he screamed, and at that point I realised he was still just a child. When we had met, he’d told me he had only been with his trainer for two weeks before Team Rocket got a hold of him. From my experience, I was led to believe that the pokémon that trainers receive as their official firsts were fairly young when obtained, and no more than two weeks had gone by since I had last seen Sed, making him still very young.

“Sed, listen to me. You don’t have to do this.”

“You don’t know anything,” he answered in a deep and wounded voice, his head low and his pupils partly obscured because of his angle.

“If we’re done here,” interrupted the togepi, glancing to the Mr. Mime.

The psychic type relaxed and all at once I was free. “Aah,” he began, “that really gets the mind flowing.”

Before I had the chance to take a step to flee, Sed’s vines rocketed towards me at a speed I wasn’t aware a grass type could possess, and I was once again constricted. I was shocked to find that he had not wound his vines up my torso or bound my legs, but my neck. The seriousness of the situation dawned on me as a poisonous wave swept through my veins; this ivysaur was scarred. And I had been the one to make the mark, whether I meant to or not. It was me that condemned him to his life as it was now, and, in his confused and merciless state, I felt momentarily frightened.

“Sed,” I breathed, suddenly realising I was short of breath. My eyes grew and my limbs began flailing, although a use of too much energy would result in a shortage of the amount I reserved for surviving my hanging. “Sed!” The pressure began building, and I felt my eyes dampen as they slowly began leaking. Panic slashed my insides as my toes straightened and my fear instigated shivers. I could inch only a tiny gasp of air through my throat as the vines ceased to tighten, the ivysaur’s face alight with pure hatred. My lungs threatened to burst as my head screamed; my brain thumped restlessly inside my skull whilst my panic swelled like a serious injury. The pressure expanding in my head gripped me as if a mighty snorlax was squeezing the blood from my face. I struggled harder, my jaws tightly compressed and my desperation increasing without rest. I longed to scream at him again, but the only thought occupying my mind was raw fear; I could die as a result of strangulation, and that information itself was deadly enough.

“What’s wrong?” the togepi sneered, his eyes fixed on my struggle as he upheld his grin. “Can’t breathe?” I choked and blinked out more tears; it was horrifying to know that this sick togepi found pleasure in witnessing me suffer. On top of that, he looked barely older than a child!

The best response I managed between fits of struggle and a further river of tears was a spray of flames that slipped between my teeth which barely ended a pace in front of me. My pain was similar to that of the armaldo incident, although vines were the culprit this time rather than water. However wrong the place and time was, I found it ironic that opposite elements could have an identical effect on the same target.

“Sed,” the Mr. Mime muttered, “that’s enough.” He was still mildly amused, but the feeling seemed to slip from his face as Sed’s intensity failed to pacify. After a moment without a reaction, his tone leapt to a somewhat sturdy one. “Sed. I order you to stop.” But the ivysaur’s rage couldn’t be dulled, and his indignation burned more furiously as his face only seemed to twitch with more contempt than before.

“It’s your fault,” he spat, saliva seeping from his mouth and spattering the soil. I instantly recalled that the same sentence had been screamed from his lips the last time we’d seen each other; it was difficult to forget. I would have found his unforgiving expression contorted with pain and feelings of betrayal heartbreaking had he not had such a serious advantage over me; due to the current hierarchy, those things were only all the more frightening.

“Sed,” the Mr. Mime growled in a harsher manner, the vitality in his voice streaming clearly through. “You know we need her alive.” His pressing eyes warned even me of the apparent importance of my life, but with my increasing loss of consciousness, it was hard to tell what was what anymore.

The Mr. Mime made a move to repeat Sed’s name, but he was cut off by the piercing seeping sound of poisonous spores launching into the air. Step by step the purple haze erupted in plumes to envelop the space directly around the ivysaur’s body, and as it drifted closer, I could only feel my heart hammer as my ribs attempted to keep it contained. I barely noticed the Mr. Mime back away as the poison spread to the air surrounding him as well, and he threw his forearm under his eyes to mask his mouth.

Sed’s sanity didn’t hesitate to disintegrate sections at a time, and the realisation that this could be my end taunted my mind while I could do nothing but live the nightmare. The situation was no longer centred around Sed, but me. I was at the receiving end of his rage, and he showed no sign of letting up.

I couldn’t take any more. My insides were bursting with a need to breathe while my brain expanded to the point where it was forcing the edges of my skull apart; my vision blurred, all signs of oxygen inhalation came to a halt, and my flailing died down. My connection with reality mollified, as did my cognitive and physical functions. I could literally feel myself shutting down, and it was then that I truly believed I was on the brink of death.

Thankfully it appeared that someone wouldn’t allow that.

A shot of sickly dirt and gunk projected itself into the vines, striking with the advantage of unexpectedness and caused them to fling me into the trees nearby. I had been released! The joys of oxygen returned to me, but I knew my strength was failing and I could do nothing to stop myself from becoming tangled with branches and restless leaves.

I thought I had fainted as my eyesight plunged into blackness and my limbs seemed to go numb. Only seconds later did the pins and needles set in, and I was suddenly at the mercy of my own bodily functions. The needles stung and tickled fiercely at the same time; it was one of the weirdest feelings a pokémon could feel—besides evolving. My vision took its time to return, but in the meantime, my ears detected sounds of battling, and another pokémon appeared. As soon as I heard speech I identified her as Azure, and by her surprised mentioning of Splash, I’d say it was his gushing water attack that saved my hide. Although my sight and muscles weren’t fit for aiding me, my speech still functioned.

“Azure!” I shouted hoarsely, feeling the effects of a sore throat when trying to speak. “Get rid of them!” I would have said more, but I was hardly in a suitable state.

It wasn’t long before I heard padding and more voices, and I knew reinforcements had arrived before I happened to slip into a spiral of unconsciousness.

***

I murmured myself awake and proceeded to sit up quicker than I should have. The world spun as my eyes failed to maintain a clear view, and I was forced to lean forward on my front legs as I began to recover.

“You’re up,” commented Zhol, and I was immediately reminded of how Izante had an annoying tendency to state the obvious, especially as it happened. With Zhol it wasn’t so abundant, however.

“I am,” I responded wearily, happy to find no new bandages. “Where are we?”

“This is my home,” the sneasel told me steadily. She kneeled before me and seemed ready to help if I needed it.

“Nice...house.” I lifted my head and scanned the room, noting pretty much what I saw in everyone else’s. One corner was iced over and had an ominous icy steam radiating from its surface, and I nearly admired it before becoming disgusted by its existence. “How does that stay unmelted?” I questioned, a slight frown patting my face.

The sneasel rose, inhaled slowly and forced a shaped spray of freezing air. As it made contact with the ice, the particles solidified and the clump had no choice but to double in size. I shuffled back a pace or two, and she seemed to flinch, resting a cautious gaze upon me. I could tell she was uneasy about my reaction, and it became evident that she feared she had done something wrong as she continued her almost-worried look. She gave the ice a few seconds of attention before presumably switching back to me, but by that time I’d looked away.

I was disorientated. I felt marginally cold, which was unusual for me, and the streaming sunlight reaching me through slits between the logs told me it was no longer the time of the night hunters. It was morning. Last I remembered, I had been strung up in a tree and a few members of the colony – Splash, Azure, and others – had been fending off the invaders. Or ambushers. Or whatever they were.

Wiping my eye with a paw, I turned to Zhol. “What are you doing here?”

She adopted a shred of perplexity and melded it with her face. “This is my home,” she simply stated with edged concern.

“No, I mean—why are you here now? Don’t you have other duties?”

She must have been unknowing about the nature of my question. “I stayed to ensure your safety,” she answered as if I’d offended her slightly.

“Oh, I—I just...didn’t know.” I shrugged, pushing a sigh between my lips. “It’s nice of you to wait for me to...greet the morning,” I half-heartedly chuckled.

“Yes, well... You were out for the entire night. You were brought to me upon the fleeing of some intruders, and you’ve been asleep ever since. I assumed you’d been unconscious by violent means to begin with, and that you’d combined your unconsciousness with sleep.” She stopped to feel herself breathe, staring at me with nothing more than an informative face. It was a moment before she averted her eyes and uttered, “Anyway. I best leave,” and pressed against the wall to hoist herself upright. The question of why she wasn’t in the clinic resting sprung to my mind before I figured she must have gotten treatment for her wounds after Shard escorted her to the clinic the night before, and that she returned to the comfort of her home shortly after. It was either that, or she refused to leave me unattended at her home.

“Zhol,” I began, and she looked without emotion. “You shouldn’t be out and about in your state.” I rose to my paws and stood before her, adamant about my decision. “Don’t tell me you’re fine, or that you can handle yourself. You need rest. You’re a strong pokémon, but—”

“I’m going to Aemara’s clinic,” she mumbled, her tone clouded with a tinge of blatancy. Although she did manage a smile.

“O-oh...” I began whispering embarrassed apologies as I helped her out, and took her to the clinic where Aemara was waiting. However, as I entered the room, my fur suddenly erected. My nose curled into an instant snarl and my claws seemed to rise, as if prepared to strike at any moment.

On the end table to the left lay a small familiar sphere. The unmistakable patterns branding his irremovable shell called for attention as his tiny arms and legs seemed to sprawl in useless directions. The lack in movement told me he was unconscious, and for that and only that I was thankful. “What the hell is he doing here?” I growled, low-toned and instinctively protective.

Aemara turned in her graceful innocence and raised a hand to her mouth to gasp. She looked about to greet us with wariness when she instead turned only her head towards the egg elevated beside her, and then back to us. “He—he’s injured,” she admitted between swallowing. “I was told to—”

“But he’s the enemy! He attacked us last night!” I spat, taking care to shield Zhol from whatever could happen next. “Him and that Mr. Mime, and—” I cut myself off as I recalled the early morning’s events. I was still preparing to whisper the next word before Aemara dived in.

“His injuries were only minor; he will be moved to another building soon.” The froslass kept her gaze fixed on me, as if waiting for my approval. I only snorted. My fur slowly descended to meet with my skin.

“If his injuries were minor, then why is he being treated instead of Zhol?” I stepped aside, as if to reveal my friend properly, but Aemara’s decision didn’t teeter.

“Dusty, please,” Zhol hissed, and her sudden hint of hostility caused me to reconsider my whole argument.

Only fuelling an awkward situation, I renounced my place and stepped off my branch, touching the ground with suspicious agitation. “Aemara,” I muttered, solid and blunt, “who told you to take him here?”

“...Shardclaw,” she answered after a moment’s hesitation, and I turned my tail and exited the confinement.

Bounding with a clear goal in mind, I aimed to seek out that oversized bug type. ‘I knew I couldn’t trust him,’ I thought bitterly, connecting the dots. ‘He was so damn suspicious of my relations with Luck, and now he’s suddenly put all the injured at risk simply to treat someone not even part of the colony? That togepi is dangerous, and Shard should know it.’ I knew that something was going down. And I had to suss it out. The scyther must have had his reasons, but I was convinced he either didn’t think his decision through, or he had some kind of alternate story behind it.

In hot pursuit of answers, I stormed through the colony with a stumble in my step before reaching where I believed the suspicious pokémon lurked. Following some form of vague trail, I snuffed out his doorstep and whipped my head around, seeing only other colony members about. ‘He was here recently,’ I concluded, speeding in the direction the scent led me. Once I crossed the clearing close to the fire place and passed the tree I had been thrown in, my eyes growled for some form of verbal action. They had captured the image of a sturdy scyther leaning with his sharp scythes against the wooden fence bordering the younglings’ play area.

“Shard!” I barked sharply, catching him unaware as he flicked his body into a fighting stance and eyed me off. He failed to let his guard down as his wings rose and his scythes reflected the dull gleam of the sunlight. His head lowered and his expression conveyed messages of focus and caution. However, his half-arsed facade didn’t fool me. “Why did you let Aemara heal that togepi?” I pressed, skipping formalities.

“He was injured,” he answered, slightly less defensive than I’d expected.

“He’s the enemy,” I snapped.

“Even the opposition deserves a chance at life,” retorted the bug and flying type, and to that I only scoffed.

“Life, maybe, but his injuries were minor. Aemara said so herself.”

“Once the togepi is better, we can interrogate him,” he reasoned, and I thought it over for a mere moment.

“Will you treat him to a fresh drink and a hot meal as well?”

The scyther’s immaturity seemed nonexistent as he barely responded. However, I knew that if he was totally innocent, he would have no reason to hold his form like he was, and it only further confirmed my theory.

The detective in me began to surface as I spoke in a slower and slightly condescending tone. “I’ve learned that your reputation leads you to gain respect amongst the colony members...” I didn’t move as I spoke. If I advanced, he might assume I was challenging him. I was simply responding to his challenge. “You can get as many followers as you like on your side... You can also admit anyone to the clinic and make important decisions on your own grounds. It seems even the leader is under your scythe.”

“You know nothing of this colony,” he hissed, and seemed thinly startled by his own bitterness. Blinking it out, he refocused and I saw the flicker of his nostrils within a few delicate moments. “You have no authority here, and you certainly don’t have the right to accuse me of treason.” He curled his neck and filed his eyes. Their abrupt severity shook even me as I tried to maintain my composure. He closed the space between us by one step, and even such a small portion of our distance removed seemed dramatic. “Don’t think I can’t see through your lies, flareon,” he spat, and in an instant an army of shivers worked their way through every inch of my body. A savage twist sliced at my stomach and I was close to gagging. My eyes lost their confidence and suddenly my armour slipped. Even my toes threatened to give me away as they began trembling under the crushing presence of the fearsome scyther. “I know you’re neglecting something from your convincing tale, and I will be the one to uncover the truth.”

I could do nothing but stare with horror as fear shot through my veins. My fur stood on end as I was cornered with a boulder suspended above and a tidal wave storming closer. Needles from a cactus pinned me against a rock wall, and my muzzle was bound closed by the chains of justice. The ground I felt so sturdy upon began to split. I was trapped.

With a fierce flutter of his wings, Shard sliced into the air and tore his way across the sky, landing short of Wynore’s house. The great ursaring emerged with the tiny teddiursa at her side, and both absent-mindedly greeted Shard as they fixed their gazes to me. My urge to move swelled like a growth as they approached, my eyes flittering and unable to keep still. I must have looked like a fuzz ball as my fur turned to spines and my nose flared with each step they took. The wave was closing in on me, but the needles prevented my movement. A sickening feeling played with my belly, shooting butterfree through my passageways.

“You refuse to enlighten me with the truth,” Shard snarled, following slightly bent with his scythes out in front, “but you owe them an explanation.” Stopping only metres before me, the bug and flying type rotated his spiky head to the left, and his eyes followed the two sienna pokémon take their place beside him. His eyes were wandering and I could tell he wasn’t going to stay; he ushered the teddiursa with the flat sides of his scythes away from her mother and led her to the play pen before she squeezed through a space between the wooden beams.

Realising my place again with the pokémon I had been wary of since my first encounter with her, my claws hid behind rocks and grains of soil willing to unearth. However, the slight breeze was enough to blow the grains away, stripping them bare and sending yet another shiver racing through my body. I hid my embarrassing tail and tried luring my pride to my chest, puffing it bravely and repeating internally that I could hold my ground.

The ursaring’s solid expression was of pure disdain. A frown was carved tactlessly into her features, and her stance spoke of potential brutality and ruthless rage. I nearly jumped as she spoke. “Where is my mate?” she growled without bothering to hide her forwardness. I could basically confirm by her behaviour that she and Shard had been conversing.

My brain turned and I held my lip between my teeth. “I—I told you,” I stammered, swallowing and trying my hardest to keep eye contact. “He fled the ship.”

“Lakane doesn’t flee from things,” she snapped, stomping her right foot. I knew immediately that she was going to get the truth out of me one way or another. She had no intentions of playing me softly, and it seemed that even Shard was willing to turn a blind eye to whatever the ursaring may bestow upon me. Half of me understood his motives, but the other part loathed his sorry hide for calling my bluff.

“Or maybe he helped the other pokémon off the ship,” I reasoned, finding that as a more appropriate explanation.

Wynore fell silent as she contemplated her words carefully. She took a breath. “I truly hope he is alive,” she spat, hardly allowing her sincerity to seep between the gaps of her euphemistic threat. “We have a cub to raise. I look after an entire kindergarten of young. Lakane was Habib’s bodyguard!” she boomed, and my eyes widened in a heartbeat. I caught sight of Shardclaw who, in the distance, seemed to respond to the last sentence. In a panic, I knew I had to reply.

“His death has noth—” I froze. A horrific feeling suddenly swamped my heart.

Death. I said death.

‘She was talking as if he was dead! I completely let it slip—’ However, I saw her mighty paw come down to her side after swatting a fly obscuring her vision. My eyes dropped to its limp body which quickly became lost in the infrequent grass. It was then that I realised she hadn’t heard me. I felt my breath test the air, prodding it as my eyes remained shaky but glued to Wynore’s, and my theory was confirmed. To ensure confidentiality, I flung my head about, and thankfully I spotted no nearby pokémon. I turned back to her and repeated slightly differently, “His disappearance has nothing to do with me. I only helped him fight!”

“Tell me, flareon,” Wynore rumbled, her looming figure forcing me to crane my neck and scuttle frantically back a few paces. Her expression had morphed into a grief-stricken and livid one, and I could clearly read that she was both guilty and moral in her decision to blame me. “How many pokémon did you kill because of this ship incident?”

I was taken aback by the comment. Personally I hadn’t thought of them as deaths, but, rather, necessities. I didn’t really have a word for them. “I didn’t count,” I growled. “And for your information, I only killed when it was imperative.”

“Nidorino, nidorina,” she retorted, comparing my definition with another similar one. Essentially she questioned my definition of justice. “How many of those pokémon had trainers? Homes? Families?!”

My face lost its formation and my jaw was suddenly loose. My ears drooped and my mind returned to the many incidents whose severity was ambiguous. “W-well... I only killed Rocket pokémon. They had the choice to join us or—”

“You KILLED them!” she roared, forming some kind of invisible sphere between her two palms as she held her clawed weapons suspended at her belly.

“Killed...” I whispered, feeling my head rattle from side to side. “No...no... I protected the innocents and slayed the evil.”

“You murdered humans too,” she accused, her face clouding over with hatred.

“N-no!” I held my teeth before admitting, “Y...yes...”

“All vine whip users—throw the humans off board, along with any pokémon that try to oppose us!”

I halted, witnessing a Rocket man being tossed over the side a few metres up ahead. He yelled all the way down, being silenced by a splash. The wind whipped around our small group, almost chilling me.

I barely noticed as I crept closer, taking in the deep claw gashes that ran slashed across the human’s neck. His metal gun sat alone and separated from his hand. Cerise blood stained his uniform, and a dense pool soaking his black hair and hat had formed from the wound’s leakage.

“It was kill or be killed!” I shouted, a new sense of guilt laying itself onto what already plagued my mind. My head restarted its shaking. “I...I had to! And I had to destroy the ship afterwards...”

Her glare drilled itself through the barriers my skull was supposed to maintain, twisting parts of my brain and constricting my heart with the unravelled structures.

“You had to do nothing!”

“You destroyed the ship?” a voice spiked, and I jumped to find the infamous scyther join our ever so joyous conversation.

“Yes!” I exclaimed, capturing more space as I stepped backwards, losing my grip on sanity.

“Did you let everyone escape?” he pressed, following my movements as he too towered over my frail form. “Or did you leave some on board?”

“STOP!” I screamed, binding my eyes and clenching my jaws.

“I knew I never should have trusted you!” the scyther roared, his wings beating furiously. “Fire types can’t be trusted! You’re all the same; your fire is deadly, and your spirit is no different.”

“Lakane is dead because of you!” Wynore raged, chancing a swipe and scooping the space a hair away from my tuft.

“All those other pokémon...those humans,” Shardclaw highlighted, stabbing me with each word. His voice was tainted with the disgust of a million pokémon.

“You killed him!” she screeched, landing a hit as her great paw beat the side of my face. With devastating force, I was thrown metres before rolling to a halt. Stones pricked me as sticks stabbed my wounds; blades of grass cut my eyes and the soil forced itself into my mouth.

My paws seized as my legs started their violent vibration, my jaws so tightly interlocked that I could have shattered my teeth. A stream of tears stained my face, pooling beneath me as my bandages lay limply hanging from my flesh. I was suddenly overwhelmed with an emotion combining grief and guilt, slaughtering my only hope for redemption.

“Tell us,” Shard demanded scathingly, baring his deadly set of fangs.

My nose continued to fizz as my eyes bled their painful liquid, and I blubbered with uncontrollable consistency. The never-ending abyss I had fallen hopelessly into was not going to end upon my request. “I...I...can’t.”

A weight flattened itself along my back with impetuous force, and I jerked as my breath suddenly left me.

“Confession will release you,” Shard tempted, appearing inches from my left.

“Tell us what happened to Lakane!” Wynore thundered, increasing the measure of power applied to her leg.

However, I couldn’t respond. Beside my anguish and inability to unchain my secret, it had become impossible to gather the air to push out a response. I began to relive the horrid events that had occurred only that morning, and I knew my body was incapable of yet another torture session involving a lack in oxygen inhalation.

My problem was fixed as the ursaring released her hold on me, although I felt no more luxury as she scrunched her claws around my mane and lifted me from the ground. My legs wiped the ground before hanging without a stone of support, and I pierced the air with a squeal of discomfort. Naked fear contaminated my conscience, launching spears of serious self doubt into the depths of my mind. I wanted to tell them... I didn’t want to lie! Master had always told me lying was a misdeed that nobody should ever have to do commit... However, I was on trial for much more than just lying.

“You murdered pokémon who got in your way... You didn’t think of their needs or their reasons for fighting.” The scyther circled me, halting smoothly once he reached each side of the ursaring’s body. Never faltering or losing a grasp of his temper, he kept his imprinted glare of scorn and suspicion as his interrogation continued. I was no different to that togepi. “Did you even give them a chance?!”

“ANSWER ME!” the ursaring raged, thrusting my wilted body to the ground.

The wind was knocked from my chest, and the continuous tears wove between every strand of fur as my pain increased. Finally I snapped, scrambling from the threatening monsters and shrieking, “OKAY! I ADMIT IT!” They fell silent, holding their sneers until I spoke again. “I...” On the verge of spilling the secret of Luck’s death, I attempted to contain it. However, my ability to do so was waning, and it was only a matter of time before I exposed the truth and stripped myself of any dignity I may still have stowed between the cracks of my heart. Cramming my trust in the jaws of words, I whimpered, “I killed...many pokémon.” I had prolonged my confession once more.

Shard’s anger nearly overtook him as he raised his scythes and boomed, “That’s not what you were going to admit!”

His seriousness frightened me to my core as he looked ready to bring them down, when suddenly a blur knocked him clean off his feet. Our combined shock was enough to influence the mightiest of pokémon; for a moment I had myself convinced that one of the togepi’s deadly accomplices had returned to seek vengeance, but as soon as the scyther and the blur rolled to a stop, I gasped. Shard was unwilling to raise his blades to the pokémon pinning him down, and his anger was temporarily shelved. Nothing but shock seemed to occupy his mind. Wynore’s reaction hardly differed.

“Zhol!” cried someone from behind me. I rotated my head to view a worried raticate holding her paws to her face before scurrying past me and to her friend’s aide. I barely knew what to make of the situation.

“Answers!” the sneasel roared through anger and confusion. I wasn’t in a position to view her face, but rather the back of her, as she sat warningly on the scyther’s chest.

Shard’s face returned to a less severe version of what he beat me with, and it was clear that he feigned innocence. “You should be resting,” he responded with a mix of concern and frustration.

“What were you doing to her?” she growled, arching her back as her face neared Shard’s. I found myself blinking out my tears and exhaling a great breath of relief. Her concern for my welfare was utterly flattering, especially in such a situation. At the same time, however, when she found out of my misdeeds, it was clear that I would be framed as the villain and even she would accuse me of my lack in responsibility and honesty.

“Zhol,” Shard began gravely, lowering his tone as his eyes flicked from me to her again. “You can’t trust this pokémon. She’s—”

“I said,” she hissed coldly, her pressing tone striking me as extremely outraged, “what were you doing to Dusty?!”

“She lied to us!” Wynore stepped in, curling her claws to somehow emphasise her point. “She lied to the whole colony.”

Zhol’s position didn’t dissipate as she continued to listen. I could only picture her doubting face. That alone was enough to make me want to flee and never return. She had faith in me, and that was about to be shattered.

Shard snorted but didn’t make an attempt to resist Zhol’s actions. “We believe that she is hiding something.” He passed me his frightening stare, but I quickly rejected it as I searched the back of Zhol’s head for some sort of comfort. I needed her eyes. “She may not even be who she says she is.”

“I know who she is,” Zhol uttered bluntly, holding her position before removing her strong claws from the section of arm connecting Shard’s scythe with his shoulder. Silently she shuffled off him and rose to her uninjured foot, moving her head half way to meet eyes with Wynore. She found Gigin for support and turned slowly around, meeting my gaze for but a moment before murmuring for me to follow her back to the clinic.

Shame glazing my entire face, I heaved myself up and followed sluggishly behind.

***

My head hung from my shoulders as the darkened streaks of fur marking my face told of my recent emotions. My eyes occasionally wandered the clinic’s interior to spot Zhol, Aemara and Gigin soundly making amends to Zhol’s injuries. I had forgotten that she was half lame, and because of her kind-hearted actions only minutes before, she had stressed her wound to the point of its reopening. It was clear that Gigin had been propping her up on her way to where we resided, and as soon as her eyes fell upon the situation, she took matters into her own claws and zipped to my presumed rescue. I had cost yet another pokémon their futile effort; I was positively cursed, and yet I would still be blamed.

“Your bandages,” began Aemara softly, her delicacy almost strange compared with my previous encounter with the colony’s pokémon. She hovered towards me, but as she decreased our distance to that of a few paces, I cringed, withdrawing into myself and turning my head from her. She stopped, her body beginning to sway as it caught up with her mind. I fixed my gaze on a grain of dirt coloured differently to those around it, drawing my paws in as my tail attempted to wrap itself around them. Half a tail was hardly substantial.

I sensed her backing away once she ended her period of stillness, and floated back to Zhol. I heard shuffling and a soft click, and could only imagine that she had lay a foot on the ground after climbing from an elevated bed. She approached unevenly, leaning against the raticate. “Come on.”

I waited for them to leave and after a moment’s hesitation, I picked myself up and trudged after them. I caught sight of a few pokémon as I made my way to Zhol’s home, noticing their intrusive stares. It was as if Shard and Wynore had already spread news about my untrustworthiness, and all the pokémon of the colony were growing to condemn and even hate me. I had betrayed them all during the late hours of the previous night, and not one of them deserved treatment installing false hope into their hearts.

After we entered Zhol’s house, the sneasel requested that Gigin left. She did so with no more than a nod, and repeated the same action to me before scuttling from the rectangular hut. I could hear the bustling of Den Row as I sat silently, eying my paws as I waited for the moment Zhol would interrupt and begin accusing me. I played with the insides of my lips using my fangs, searching for tissue I could tear off and chew without creating a wound.

“What did you tell them?”

I felt my jaws slide together and my eyelids meet, my ears stiff and my nose quivering. I was reluctant to answer; saying the wrong thing would surely result in disaster. Zhol was the only friend I properly had in this colony, and I didn’t want to foil our friendship so early. I had already lost my best friend. Losing her as well was a frightening thought. ‘The least you can do is answer her,’ I growled inwardly, knowing full well that I owed her that. “I told them...” Ashamed and bitter, I muttered, looking up, “That Luck went missing.”

To my surprise, she didn’t comment immediately. Instead she seemed to shift through reasons why that would be my choice of words, and ended with a scowl. “That was wrong.” She let her head wander in agitation before returning it. “You only prolong their suffering. They have to know the truth.”

“I couldn’t!” I barked defensively, suddenly displaying stress. My breathing rate increased, and my front paws became separate. “I couldn’t tell them about him. He’s their family. If I found out my family was dead, I’d...” Images of my master flashed behind one eye and moved to the next just as fast.

“You wouldn’t want to be kept from the truth, either,” she retorted. I knew she was disappointed. That was one of the worst feelings I could have added to my list. She must have thought I was a cruel fool.

“But, I...” I lost my words. I wasn’t sure how I felt. I knew I was guilty, ashamed and greatly saddened! Yet I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to break it to the colony or not.

More seriously, she lowered her tone. “It isn’t your right to keep the colony in the dark.”

Suddenly my mind returned to Shard, and my paws tinkered with desperation. I became restless as my gaze wouldn’t hold and my face began to twitch with confusion. I began to scamper into the corner and steadied myself so I wouldn’t continuously shake. “I know!” I shouted, feeling the tears beginning to well once more. I felt as if I was brewing a fire storm that was likely to explode any moment, my eyes blurring and my nose undergoing an odd sensation. “I know... But, I... I didn’t know what to do, Zhol...”

After moments of immobility, the dark and ice type edged towards me, finishing her movement as soon as she must have felt she was close enough. I wept silently once again, and I could tell Zhol wasn’t sure how to comfort me. Feeling the steely but somehow comforting touch of her claws on my shoulder, I flinched, only to relax. Her words were simple and didn’t go unquestioned. “Tell them the truth.”

My stare met hers, my teary eyes choosing the centre of her pupils. I managed a weak, misleading smile that quickly formed a wailing opening, and I slid my head onto her shoulder, raising my right paw to rest on her other. “I’m just so confused,” I whined, drawing a breath between blubbering. “She was my best friend, and she just...left. And now these pokémon have to deal with the loss of their friend...” I tilted my neck, half lying my head on its side as it straightened from her shoulder. “Why is this happening?”

The only response my friend instigated was a left claw resting on the back of my mane and the placement of her head on my shoulder for balance. I sensed her temper quell and her understanding increase, and for that I was thankful. Nobody could ever completely replace Izante, but Zhol was immodestly filling her place.

***

“Tell me,” squawked an enraged bird-like pokémon, her crest rising and her puffy wings fluffing up all the more. Receiving no answer, she fired a dragonbreath onto the togepi strapped to a log, and the normal type screeched in discomfort as the odd flames seared what skin wasn’t obscured by shell. His fixed feet hardly moved, and his arms, in a similar state, were of equal uselessness.

“I told you,” he sneered, “that I’ll only speak to the flareon.”

“We know where you’re from,” she huffed, altering her emotional appearance by a tone. “It’s a hideout in the mountains.”

The togepi released a dark chuckle and mumbled, “You’ll never find it alive.”

Tarla let a grin peck the edge of her beak. “And you just ratted out your comrades.”

[Dragon Master Mike]

How did i not notice this was here sooner. I just read chapter one. Oh my god. It is amazing. So much detail. Now i really want to read more, but im too tired. I like, really want to know what the Golem was talking about now. I will continue reading at some point in the near future.

[Suicune's Fire]

O:! I'm not sure! It was pushed back to the next page before I decided to post all the chapters. XD Thank you so much! <3 I'm so happy you enjoyed it! XD No worries. x) YOU WILL FIND OUT. ONE DAY. lel.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING I LOVE YOU AND DON'T WORRY I STILL PLAN TO READ YOUR 18 STORY IN FACT I SHOULD DO IT TODAY.

[Dragon Master Mike]

This. I just read to chapter five. Great. I cant say i was expecting what happened. (For those who have not read to chapter five yet but are reading this comment, spoiler alert) When Dusty regained consciousness at the side of the lake, i was so confused at what was happening. I was going over all sorts of ideas in my head: Was Dusty dead? Was she dreaming? Was it actually the completely rational explanation of the Pokemon dragging Izante away? I kept reading and was very surprised to see what actually happened. I'm surprised that it took her until chapter 5 to start shooting fire at the guys. If i were in her position the guy who tried to poke her wouldn't have been bitten, he would have had his arm burnt off. I will continue reading this regularly until i finish.

[Suicune's Fire]

OOOOOOOOOOOOO: I'M SO EXCITED YOU'RE READING MY STORY ADJIXNLHERAMCJGIJER;GAJ <3 You have a long way to go. XD And lol...you'll find out why it took her and left Dusty. xD And yeah, that's a good point. She really should have kicked it up earlier. xD Glad to see you reading it and THANKS! <3 Hope it remains entertaining for you! xD

[Dragon Master Mike]

This... Just gets better and better! I was so hooked, the only reason i'm stopping now is because its 11:30 and i'm really getting tired. I just read up to chapter 9. Every chapter seems to give me more questions about what's going on than it does answers. At the part with Sed, it was so sad, I actually had to stop reading for a minute. I couldn't even finish the chapter without taking a break after reading it. Also, I REALLY want to know what was going on with Izante and the Persian! I have a feeling it has something to do with... Uh.... What was it called? Whatever it was the Umbreon was talking about. I actually have to go back and look to get the name.... "Monogatari Karei." That's what the Umbreon said. I guess i will find out as i read.