The old storyteller looked on fondly as the vulpix kits played in the snow, her nine silvered tails curled tightly around her. This winter had been a wet one, the snow turning to slush that steamed beneath their paws, and there had been little chance for the kits to leave the den until now. One by one, as the sun sank below the horizon, their parents called them back in to shake the damp from their fur.
"A story! Tell us a story!" said one overly-excited kit with half-grown tails as they all settled down, and the old storyteller chuckled. It had become somewhat of a tradition, that in the cold winter nights she would pass the time by telling one of her many stories, and this kit was not the only one watching her with hopeful eyes.
"Very well. Come in close and I will tell you the tale of Bright-eyes and the Spring-Bringer.
"Once, long ago, our people lived in a great plain that stretched to touch the horizons. We were only vulpix at that time, but it did not trouble us, for the grass was long, the food was plenty, and we did not need to fight for anything.
"However, one year there came a terrible winter, harsher and longer than any gone before it. The wind bit cold through the thickest fur, the sun crept through a sky dark as a murkrow's shadow, and where there had once been soft soil under paw, there was now only the harsh crunching of frost. Even our fire was not enough to save us, for without grass there could be no caterpie, without caterpie no pidgey, and without pidgey no vulpix. And so many of our own fell to hunger in that dreadful time.
"We waited and waited, curled up in our dens, long past the time when the snow should have melted and new leaves unfurled. But Moltres, brilliant Moltres of the burning wings, did not come with spring in their wake.
"'Something must have happened,' murmured one of the elders, his paws trembling with weakness. 'A curse must have befallen the Spring-Bringer, so that they cannot fly to aid us.'
"'Perhaps they have lost faith in us, or we have angered them in some way,' suggested another, her tails silvered more by age than ice. These and other words of their ilk slunk throughout the den like insidious ghosts, reaching despairing fingers into the hearts of our kin until it seemed that hope would never return.
"But one young vulpix stepped forward, her paws strong and her fur as red as her fire. Bright-eyes, her name was, and she was named truly indeed."
"That's the same name as me!" one little kit whispered excitedly to his brother, and was promptly shushed.
With a little huff of a laugh and a twinkling eye, the old storyteller continued, "'I will go to Mount Silver, where the great Moltres nests,' Bright-eyes declared, 'and I will find out why spring has not come.'
"Her family wept and begged her to reconsider, for Mount Silver was many miles away and they were sure that she would only meet her end out there in the cold. But Bright-eyes stood steadfast.
"'If I do not go, this winter will never end and we will perish. Moltres may strike me for my impertinence, but it is better than doing nothing.'
And at last they relented. That night her family gave her gifts for good fortune: from her mother, a gleaming claw for strength; from her father, a sharp-scented leaf for spirit; and from her sisters, a little bundle of sweet berries for sensibility. They ate what little they had, slept curled together, and in the morning, Bright-eyes set out for Mount Silver."
"Why didn't Bright-eyes go ask Entei for help?" asked a kit, so young that her tail had yet to split. "Wouldn't that have been closer?"
"Ah, little one, this was a long time before Ho-Oh Sun-Wings had given life to the three great beasts. Besides, Entei runs with the swift paws of the hot southern wind, and who can say where the wind resides?"
The kit nodded at the sense this made to her young mind, and the storyteller continued.
"First, Bright-eyes ran east, the rising sun as her guide. The light was weak and watery and the ice pricked at her feet, but against that vast empty whiteness, Bright-eyes raced with all the glory of a comet. Before long, though, she came to the first of her obstacles: a vast forest surrounded Mount Silver, and born of the grasslands as she was, Bright-eyes did not know how to navigate it.
"Still, Bright-eyes was not one to give up at the slightest opposition! As long as she could see Mount Silver she could continue forwards, and with that thinking, she stepped into the shadows of those slumbering trees. Bright-eyes breathed a little blue will-o-wisp to light her way, for the sun struggled to make it past the clutching tendrils of branches, but she soon realised that this deep into the darkness, there was no way for her to see her goal.
"'Is there any who would help me?' she called to the gleam of eyes lit by her fire. 'I am on a quest of great importance!'
"'Who goes there?' said a voice from the tops of the trees. 'Who are you that runs like a brushfire breaking our peace?'
"'My name is Bright-eyes and I seek ever-burning Moltres, to ask them to return the spring!' she replied. 'But these trees block my sight and I do not know the way through this forest.'
"That is a mighty goal indeed,' said the voice, and it slipped down with a flurry of feathers to reveal a dark-winged noctowl peering at her through the gloom. 'I would guide you, for I have no love of winter myself, but my chicks were late-hatched and my mate cannot both watch and feed them by herself."
"Bright-eyes thought for a moment, then offered up the little bundle of sweet berries. 'Could your mate give these to your chicks?' she asked the noctowl. 'I know the pain of leaving family and I would spare you it if I could, but I must reach Moltres as swiftly as possible.'
"The noctowl looked over Bright-eyes' gift and gave her a solemn nod. 'Yes, these should suffice until I can return. I will be your eyes and watch over you until the Spring-Bringer is found.'
"And so Bright-eyes joined her first companion and they continued onwards. The sun rose higher above them, but in that darkened sky, its meagre light was as that of the moon and the noctowl could fly with eyes unhindered. He called down through the trees to Bright-eyes below and she ran true until at last she broke free of the forest's grasp.
"Beyond the forest, though, there lay the edge of the towering Mount Silver. It was wild and rough and rugged, with sharp steep cliffs and boulders larger than her family's den, and all of it covered in a deep layer of snow. Bright-eyes went forward with courage in her heart, the noctowl soaring silently above her, but though she leapt and bounded like a seaking up a stream, she at last came to a mighty rock blocking the only path ahead.
"The noctowl could carry her over it!" said the eldest kit, looking very pleased with himself for having come up with this answer. But the old storyteller shook her head.
"The noctowl was weak after so many moons of eating little, and so he didn't have the strength to carry Bright-eyes. No, Bright-eyes instead called out once more to the pokémon around her, those that called Mount Silver their home.
"'Is there any who would help me?' she cried to the rhythmic sound of unseen breathing. 'I am on a quest of great importance!'
"With a deep growling rumble, the earth beside her shifted and uncurled to reveal a crag-skinned rhydon, her hide pale with frost. 'We are sleeping until the snow recedes,' the rhydon said. 'Who are you that that has come up this mountain like the rising dawn?'
"'My name is Bright-eyes and I seek blaze-winged Moltres, to ask them to return the spring!' she replied. 'But I cannot move past this rock and I cannot find another way around.'
"'Indeed, unless you can fly or tunnel, there is no other way forward. I would gladly break this and others in your path, but this long winter has seeped into my bones and I have lost the strength I once held.'
"Bright-eyes thought for a moment, then offered up the sharp-scented leaf. 'My father told me to eat this should I ever falter on my journey,' she said to the rhydon. 'Perhaps it could help you.'
"The rhydon sniffed at the white leaf and swallowed it in a vast bite. 'Yes, this has brought back my strength!' she declared, and with a mighty roar, she set her horn to the rock, smashing through it in one colossal strike. 'There may be other such obstacles ahead. I will be your claws and clear the way for you until the Spring-Bringer is found.'
"And so Bright-Eyes joined her second companion and they continued onwards. The mountain path was coarse with stones and jagged brinks, the sun glaring bright off the white of the snow, and Bright-eyes' legs grew weak with fatigue from the steepness of the slope. But with the noctowl above to lead them true and the rhydon below to clear the way, Bright-eyes at last reached the cave that wound through Mount Silver to where Moltres nested.
"With vigour renewed, Bright-eyes and her companions ventured into the cavern's depths. The little blue will-o-wisp shone in the darkness, sparking glints and glimmers and small flashes of colour from gemstones in the rock, but it was not long before the pale glow of the cave's entrance had faded from their view.
"Born to the sun and the open sky, Bright-eyes had not imagined that the tunnel would twist and turn so deep into the earth, splitting itself into a thousand different paths. Her companions could not help – the noctowl had likewise never gone beneath the earth, and the rhydon had stayed close to the surface. Bright-eyes called out a final time to the pokémon that dwelled within the heart of Mount Silver.
'Is there any who would help me?' she cried to the distant echo of nails over stone. 'I am on a quest of great importance!'
For a long time, there were no signs of a response, and the echo of Bright-eyes' voice grew fainter and fainter. Then at last, a deliberate scrape behind them revealed a sharp-eyed sneasel watching them with suspicion. 'Your light and your noise have woken many that live here,' the sneasel said. 'Who are you that shouts with the rumble of a volcano?'
"'My name is Bright-eyes and I seek flame-crested Moltres, to ask them to return the spring!' she replied. 'But their nest lies beyond this maze of tunnels and I can see neither entrance nor exit.
"'I would help you, but this weather suits me well. I and mine are kin to the winter, to the ice and the shadows. Why should we care if the spring does not return?'"
Even those kits who had heard the story many times before let out protests at this, and the old storyteller quieted them good-naturedly.
"Bright-eyes thought for a moment, then offered up the gleaming claw. 'Even winter's kin might find trouble in its depths, for too many of those you hunt fall to its bite,' she said. 'This claw will make yours stronger and swifter, so that you might hunt better upon the season's change.'
"The sneasel took the claw and turned it over and over, checking it for something Bright-eyes could not see. 'A claw such as this is very valuable to my kind,' he said at last. "Very well. In payment, I will be your ears and guide you to where the firebird sleeps.'
"And so Bright-eyes joined her third companion and they continued onwards. At the sneasel's prompting, Bright-eyes banished her will-o-wisp and they proceeded in darkness, their footsteps as silent as a hunting persian as the sneasel listened for something beyond her heed. The tunnel was littered with unseeable cracks that caught at her paws and they walked for what seemed like an uncountable time, but at last Bright-eyes could hear the soft crackle of fire just ahead.
"The tunnel opened into a hall wider and deeper than any Bright-eyes had ever seen, warm as she had not been since leaving her den, and lit all by the flickering glow of fiery feathers. And in the centre, there lay radiant Moltres, their head tucked beneath their folded wings in sleep atop a nest of cinnabar stones.
"But the great bird was not the only creature that dwelled within that cavern. The air was hazy with sickly-sweet mist, the ground scattered with the raised red-and-yellow mounds of mushrooms, and there came the skittering sound of insects in the shadows as paras hid from their presence. As Bright-eyes looked over the chamber, she realised at once the truth of Moltres' downfall.
"No ghostly curse had befallen the Spring-Bringer; no angered fit had driven them to sleep beyond their given time. Instead, Moltres had fallen to a simple act of misfortune – a rock had collapsed over the hole that gave access to the vast blue sky, and winter's snowfall had covered it further until no trace of the sun's light could reach through. Without the clean wind to sweep through the cavern and disperse them, the paras' spores had spread through the air and deepened Moltres' sleep until the great bird could no longer wake.
"Bright-eyes' companions sprang into action. With his sharp claws, the sneasel cut away those mushrooms that had grown too thick and too close to Moltres' nest. With her strong horn, the rhydon shattered the rock concealing the sky and cleared away the snow. And with his wide wings, the noctowl stirred up a wild gust that blew away the sleep-spores, leaving the cavern clean once more.
"But still the Spring-Bringer did not wake.
"The embers of Moltres' wings glowed dimly and the faint edges of their golden feathers guttered in the breeze. Even their beautiful crest drooped against their neck, and Bright-eyes feared that the long sleep had done a greater damage than could be fixed. But then she remembered an old tale that she had learned from her clan's storyteller and an idea sparked in her mind.
"Bright-eyes went to the edge of Moltres' nest, drew in her deepest breath, and with all her might, let out a fire stronger and hotter than any she had made before. The flames enveloped ever-burning Moltres, washed over them and sank into their feathers until they grew bright and fierce once more. And at last, radiant, brilliant Moltres opened their gleaming eyes.
"'Are you and your companions the ones who have awakened me from my long slumber, little vulpix?' asked Moltres.
"'This winter has been longer than any should last, and many have fallen to its chill,' said Bright-eyes. 'We have travelled here to ask you to return the spring, o beautiful Moltres.'
"'And so I shall,' Moltres replied, 'and you have my deepest gratitude for your courage and spirit.'
"As a gift in thanks, Moltres granted Bright-eyes a stone from their nest that shone in every shade of fire, and as she took it, her form changed. Her fur, once red as her fire, became the same shimmering gold as the Spring-Bringer's feathers and her tail split again into nine. And so with the gift of Moltres, Bright-eyes became the first ninetales and returned a hero.
"Moltres of the burning wings rose into the sky and flew once more, spring in their wake."
For a moment, the den was silent, still caught up in the spell of the story. Then it broke as the kits clamoured for another and the old storyteller laughed. "Come now, it's time for sleep," she said, gently herding them with her tails. "Another story is for another day."
"Grandmother," the eldest kit said slowly, as the other kits scrambled back to their sleeping places, "your name is also Bright-eyes, isn't it? And my mother said that you were telling stories even when her grandmother was a kit."
"Well," said the old storyteller, winking at the kit, "every good story has its mysteries. Even mine." And with that, she curled her tails around herself and closed her eyes.
Author's Note:
I don't normally write pokemon as being sentient, but I wanted to try writing something in a fairy-tale format and decided to try and write a non-human fairy-tale. Hopefully they don't just come across as humans with pokemon names. Anyway, if you enjoyed this or if you have any suggestions for improvements, please let me know in a review!