Chapter I

Salvation

The rain fell with a brutality that befit sledgehammers; slamming down on the heads and backs of the two lone figures that sluggishly marched across the open plains. The weather hadn't changed since the two of them had set out on their journey. It seemed as if Arceus himself was conspiring against them.

"We can't keep this up forever, bro." The small Oshawott hurried to catch up to his brother, arms wrapped around himself in a futile attempt at keeping warm. "They'll find us eventually."

"Andrew," -his brother turned to look back at him- "we can. We have to keep going. The rain will wash away our footprints, so there'll be no chance of them trailing us through them. We'll be safe."

"When will we be safe, Hobart?" Andrew wailed. "There's nothing around us for miles! We might end up dead, or worse." He clutched involuntarily at the shell that clung to his chest, sniffling just loud enough to be heard during the minimal pauses in the torrential downpour.

"As soon as I find shelter," Hobart replied grimly. He peered through the rain with a determination fitting his tone, one paw raised to shield his eyes against the falling droplets. "… Over there." He pointed to the right.

Andrew struggled to follow after the taller Oshawott, his limbs heavy from the constant marching and lack of food. "I'm hungry, too."

"I'll scavenge something up, don't worry."

Soon, the distant bushes that his brother had pointed out were within a short distance of them. Then, eventually, they stood before them, fur soaked.

Two dried up bushes entwined together to form a small shelter of sorts, large enough to shade at least three small Pokémon; enough space for the two brothers to sit in comfortably. Hobart gestured for Andrew to go in first and crawled in shortly afterwards, ignoring the scratches of the twigs against his coat as he made his way through.

"At least… this will hide us," Andrew said, sliding to the floor in exhaustion. "My feet are killing me."

Hobart sat down close by him, pulling up his legs and wrapping his arms about them. "Let's rest a bit before we even think about going back out there for food."

Andrew nodded, looking down at the dusty earth before him. "… I think I'll try to get some sleep."

"I'll keep on guard," Hobart replied, his dark gaze turned towards the bush's entranceway. As his sibling lay down, he narrowed his eyes in thought. How far do we have to go before they'll stop hunting us? It was torture, the way that they had to keep going on and on. There was little in ways of rest and nourishment, and it worried him. Soon, Andrew might succumb to both exhaustion and hunger; he'd never been the stronger of the two.

Such thoughts brought forth a cold feeling that settled in Hobart's heart. He wrapped his tail around his feet, eyes still focused intently on the gap between the twigs and the browning greenery. I won't let anything happen to him, he promised silently. I'll be there for him through everything that we might have to face.

Hours passed by and eventually, Andrew awoke. He rubbed his eyes and slowly sat up, glancing about with an almost dazed expression before letting his gaze fall on Hobart. "Good… morning, I guess," he mumbled, blinking sleepily.

Hobart smiled at him and nodded. "Good, whatever time it is."

His younger brother laughed a little at that, then clambered to his feet and stretched. "My muscles ache."

"Mm, let's try to find something to eat." Hobart stood up and headed over to the entranceway, Andrew following behind him shortly afterwards.

The rain had let off, if only slightly. It still pattered against their backs and the earth beneath their feet, however, it'd become marginally easier to see. The details of the objects ahead something more than just random blobs or blocks of shadows.

Andrew seemed a bit happier at the rain's slowdown, his pace quicker than a couple of hours before. "I'll move on up ahead and see if I can find anything," he said, jogging past Hobart, his gaze already roving over the shrubs and rocks that littered the plains.

"Just… don't wander off too far," Hobart replied. "Make sure you stay within my line of sight."

"'Kay!"

As the smaller figure excitedly searched the areas about him, Hobart moved off to start examining a nearby bush; smaller than the one that they had taken refuge in, it seemed just as in need of this downpour as its neighbour. He looked it over carefully, crouching down to look for any signs of berries that might have flowered upon its small branches.

"Brother, brother! I found something!"

Looking up from his task, Hobart straightened and turned around. "What is it?" he asked.

"I think it's some kind of berry, but – come see! I can't really identify it, myself."

Glancing one more time at the bush he was beside, Hobart headed in the direction he'd heard Andrew's voice coming from, ears pulled back in a futile effort to keep them clear of the rain.

He found his brother cupping hold of something in his paws, close to a piece of shrubbery.

"Here it is, Hobart." Andrew walked over to him, holding out the object.

Hobart studied it, and smiled. "That's a pecha berry. They're safe for eating."

"Awesome." Andrew grinned. "Do you want it?"

"No, keep it. It's yours."

"Uhm, alright. If you say so…"

"I'll keep searching."

"Okay, I'll keep searching too."

Hobart turned away, heading back to the bush he'd been previously studying. Hopefully, they'd end up with a small pile of food by the middle of the day. Such a thought was enough to have him quickening his pace, if only a little. The quicker that they got this berry search over and done with, the quicker that they'd be able to set off again.

As he stopped before the bush once more, he heard the quiet humming of his brother. Content that he was fine without him, he circled the greenery, eyes sharply looking out for anything that could be potential food.

A scream echoed across the plains towards him.

Frozen, he felt his ears twitch backwards automatically, trying to pinpoint the source of the frightening sound.

"Brother!" Andrew shrieked.

The bout of paralysis that'd taken Hobart over in those few moments, left. Quick as a flash, he twirled. "Andrew!" he yelled, breaking into a run.

He shoved aside branches as he followed the panicked squeaks of his brother, his eyes wide with worry. He stopped, gasping for breath, his mouth falling open in shock and horror at what he saw before him.

A pallid yellow coat, narrowed blood red eyes. Drizzle rained down upon the large form, steam rising up to spiral in the air. A collection of eight tails lashed in anger and the Ninetales lowered his head and bared his teeth.

Andrew sat shaking a few inches from the terror, and the instant that Hobart barked out his name he scrambled backwards and twisted to face his brother, his gaze filled with fear. "H-he found us," he whispered.

Dread settled in Hobart's gut and, for a moment, he forgot how to move, his sight focusing on the Ninetales. How…? How did he track us down? He gritted his teeth and shook his head. No, he's not getting anywhere near my brother! I won't let him! He quenched the fear with a clench of his fists and stepped in front of Andrew protectively.

The Ninetales tilted his head. "You're not as hard to find as you'd think." His expression contorted into one of resentment. "Now I'll finally be able to end you."

"No!" Hobart yelled. "You might be older and more experienced than us, but that doesn't mean you'll be able to beat us. Right, Andrew?"

Andrew cowered behind his brother, clutching at his side in an attempt to reassure himself. It wasn't helping. "Hobart… He's-"

"Brother, there's two of us and one of him. Besides, we have an advantage that he doesn't."

"Uh, w-what's that?"

"Water."

The Ninetales chuckled lowly. "Oh, don't be so sure. After all, I stand before you as this rain continues to patter… I have grown accustomed to the pain it brings."

Hobart scowled at the fox silently, and then under his breath, he muttered, "When I give the signal, run."

Andrew's left ear twitched and he looked up at his brother. "What…?"

"Don't question it, just go."

"But, what about-"

Hobart gave him no time to argue, drawing in a quick breath, he launched a torrent of water at the Fire-type. There was a hiss as it hit its mark. Andrew gasped, hesitating for a moment, before crouching down on all fours and dashing away, heading across the dead lands as fast as his legs could carry him.

The Ninetales shook his head from side to side, his eyes narrowing to slits. "You'll pay for that, you brat," he growled.

"No, I won't," Hobart replied, falling back a couple of steps.

He felt teeth snap at his heels as he turned away and broke into a run, his breath leaving him in short gasps. That attack had taken a lot out of him. But, he couldn't stop, wouldn't stop! If he was to stop now – the Ninetales would get him.

At least I gave my brother a little more time to escape, he thought, as his paws drummed a staccato upon the damp ground.

He could hear the Ninetales give chase; his senses screaming at him to run faster. With a determined look plastered upon his face, he lunged forwards; flashing into an invisible stream of water; leaving his attacker far behind.

Marshtomp Fens

"Aaandrew!" The call echoed out into the gathering gloom emptily. "Andrew, can you hear me?"

Hobart had been desperately calling for hours now, his flight from the Ninetales leaving him stranded and alone amidst thicker greenery and even thicker mud. It soaked his hind paws and dotted his coat, but he didn't care to wash it off – he had more important matters to take care of. Such as finding his brother.

The worry for the younger Oshawott was eating him up from the inside, leaving him breathless and panicky. He tried to calm down, slow his breathing, but it didn't help much.

I was supposed to be keeping an eye on Andrew. What kind of brother am I to just lose him like this?

He should have thought of a plan. But, in the terrifying heat of the moment he'd thought of nothing more than getting Andrew to safety; gunning down the Ninetales with an exhale of water was the only thing he could think of at the time. Yes, it'd worked. Yes, it had allowed Andrew to escape and get somewhere far away from the Ninetales, but, was he still safe? Was he hurt somewhere, hungry and cold? He couldn't stand thinking of his brother in any terrible circumstance such as those.

"I'll find him," he muttered to himself. "I will." He'll be somewhere around here, I just need to keep looking for him and I'll find him soon enough.

What if that had happened to him? The words came unbidden to his mind and he had to shake his head viciously to clear them. No, he was fine. He'd find him, uninjured and relieved to see him. He took a deep breath and called out again.

Another hour passed by and darkness was settling in. Hobart shivered, the cold seeping into his skin; his stomach grumbling with hunger. It was useless to keep up the search if he was too cold and hungry to keep focus. He needed to find a place to sleep, and, maybe even find something to eat. But, he wanted to keep searching.

Though, common sense kicked in, telling him that it was way too dark to see much of anything. Sleep was more important right now. So, with a sinking heart, he set off in search of shelter.

He was lucky. Ten minutes into his search, he stumbled across a crevice streaking down the side of a large boulder. As he carefully stepped inside, he briefly wondered what kind of Pokémon could've possibly caused such damage, or whether it was merely something that the recent terrible weather had created. "I wouldn't really want to stumble across a Pokémon that could do something like this," he muttered. "They'd have to be larger than that Ninetales, and that's saying something." The only Pokémon he'd ever known that could rival the fox's size was his dad. But, he wasn't here.

Hobart sighed, plodding over to the darker portion of the hollowed insides in the rock. He flopped to the floor and curled up, trying to fend the cold off by cuddling up to his tail. "Sometimes I wonder if we should've taken a Fire-type along with us," he mumbled. He shut his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

The sound of crackling and popping awoke him.

With a gasp, he shot up, any drowsiness he might've felt leaving him in a second.

A small cheery fire sat within the middle of the grotto. Small branches and dead leaves encircled it, carefully positioned close enough to the Oshawott that he could comfortably feel the warmth and smell the scent drifting off of it. Confused, he edged around the fire cautiously, his eyes darting to and from it to the surrounding walls. Where had it come from? And, more importantly, who did it belong to? He couldn't possibly have done that in his sleep. He wasn't capable of breathing fire.

"Oh, you're awake?" a merry voice echoed throughout the grotto. "How're you feeling?"

"Uh…" Hobart glanced to the entrance of the crevice, his brow furrowed.

A Sentret came traipsing in humming a happy tune. In his paws he held a large leaf, filled with an assortment of colourful objects that Hobart couldn't make out, until their aroma blasted his nose – berries! He eyed them hungrily for a moment, but his gaze went swiftly back to the stranger, his expression wary.

"Who are you?" he asked, a suspicious hint to his tone.

The Sentret chuckled. "Who am I? Well, I'm a merchant!" He lifted a bracelet adorned paw up with the other resting upon his stomach, and took a short bow. "You're lucky I managed to sniff out your scent trail when I did, otherwise who knows what could've happened! There's quite a couple of angry Pokémon out there; ones I wouldn't want to meet on a stormy night, that's for sure."

Hobart's brow creased once more. He didn't know what to make of this guy. His instincts weren't telling him that he was a danger (and he didn't really look much like one), but to be out here, so far from civilization? "If you're a merchant," he began slowly, "how did you come to be out here?"

"Oh, well, me and Memoo were out looking for Marsh Gems. They're kinda rare, but there were rumors spread around that they could be found in the Marshtomp Fens, so we decided to check it out." He smiled in a kindly way at Hobart. "You know, you don't need to be so scared of me, I don't bite. Well, not unless somemon decided to attack me first!" He chuckled quietly at his joke and hopped closer to the fire, placing the giant leaf down carefully beside it.

"You can swipe some of this food if you're hungry, you know," he said, glancing back up. "I don't mind."

Hobart stayed where he was for a while longer, his mind working over the possible dangers and suspicions, before his hunger got the better of him and he ventured closer; cautiously taking a couple of the berries for himself. "… Thanks," he replied, flashing the Sentret a nervous smile.

The merchant grinned in return. "No problem. I'm called Sen, by the way. Pleasure to meet you."

"I'm Hobart," he responded, as he sat down. "It's nice to meet you too… But, who's this Memoo you mentioned earlier?"

"A friend of mine. She's the one who set up this fire for you. Kinda felt sorry for you, you know? She's staying out of the way for now; doesn't want to make you feel too nervy around too many Pokémon at once." Sen crouched to take one of the berries for himself and sat down, curling his tail about his feet. "I tell you, it's always nice to relax by the fire after a big hunt like this. Couldn't beat it."

Hobart studied one of the berries he was holding; turning it around in his grasp. A cheri berry. Deeming it safe to eat, he bit into it. A spicy taste sprung across his tongue and he was quick to finish off the rest of the red fruit, moving onto a familiar blue berry, which he swiftly devoured.

"Hungry, huh?" Sen mused aloud. "Well, you can help yourself. There's plenty here, anyways. Plus, I can just go get some more from Memoo if we run out; got our backpack out there where she can protect it. Don't want some feral Pokémon getting their mittens on it. Especially not after such a successful trip." Sen laughed.

"… How did you end up out here alone, anyways?" Sen asked, turning to look at Hobart inquisitively.

He took his time to finish off his oran berry, chewing on it slowly as he pondered over what would be safe to give away to this stranger. "… I was travelling with my brother," he began carefully, swallowing the last of the fruit. "We got separated during the storm; I was trying to find him."

The Sentret nodded sagely. "There's been an awful lot of cases like that lately. Storms have come rolling in unexpectedly, catching a lot of Pokémon unawares. It's short of a disaster waiting to happen, I tell you."

The fire crackled as they spoke, its light illuminating the insides of the grotto warmly. The pair sat in silence for a while, just staring at the flames, that was, until a growl rumbled outside, followed by a shout.

Sen frowned and held up a paw as Hobart opened his mouth to speak. "I'll deal with it," he muttered to him quietly, and stood up, edging his way over to the entrance.

A Numel shoved her way through the crevice, smoke rising from her nostrils with each angered snort. "Stupid vermin," she grumbled, twirling around to tug a large backpack in after her. "Try to steal my stuff? Well, they'll think better of it the next time they try to mess with me!" She flicked the thick clump of fur away from her eyes, flashing the smallest of smiles at Sen before gripping the bag inbetween her teeth and dragging it the rest of the way into the grotto. "Best to keep our supplies in here, I reckon. Don't want those little rats trying to get their paws on it again," she mumbled, her words muffled by the material.

As she dropped it to the floor, her gaze turned on Hobart and the smile reached her eyes. "Nice to meet you, little one. I'm Memoo. Sorry about the intrusion, but, can't really stay out there any longer; we have scurriers about."

"He already knows who you are," Sen replied, stepping forward to push the bag a little closer to the fire.

"That may be so, but I doubt you've told him of what species I am, knowing you. You always leave out the crucial pieces of information."

"Mm, well, I probably did miss it out. Not that it matters…"

"Er, nice to meet you," Hobart interjected, nodding to the Fire-type.

"See? With manners too." Memoo shot a haughty glance over at the Sentret, who stuck out his tongue lightheartedly in response.

"Rather spacious in here, isn't it?" Memoo continued, raising her eyes to the ceiling, and then to the far end of the grotto. "A nice enough spot to hide from the dreadful weather."

Sen gestured for her to step closer, his gaze switching from Hobart to her. As she lurched toward him, he leaned in and stood on his tiptoes to whisper something into her ear, before leading her further back towards the entrances.

Hobart watched with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. Darker thoughts came unbidden to his mind. What if they were planning to attack him? He stiffened, his paws clenching around the few berries he held. However, his thoughts were interrupted as Sen – his paws behind his back – and Memoo walked over to stand before him.

"We've come to an agreement," Sen said. "If you'd like, we can offer our assistance in helping you find your brother." He glanced at Memoo, who smiled and nodded. "If you're willing to accompany us, that is," she added.

Their kindly words took him by surprise, and internally, he felt guilty over his inner thoughts. To think such bad things about others was not something his father would've been proud of, even during these rough times. He shook his head, then, realizing what it must look like to them, he quickly covered it up with a smile and a nod of his own. "That would be… really helpful, thank you. I really appreciate it."

"Good. Now, is anyone in the mood for some pecha berry juice?" Sen asked loudly, as he raced over to the backpack and unbuttoned the top, flipping open the cover moments later. He withdrew a canteen and a set of cups out from within.

Memoo pulled a face. "None for me, thank you. It's too sweet for my tastes."

"Want some?" Sen offered to Hobart, as he poured the juice into one of the two cups.

"That'd be nice, thanks."

As soon as he'd finished pouring the drink, Sen carefully made his way over to the Oshawott and passed him a cup, and then sat down, taking a drink from his own. Hobart tentatively sipped at the juice; it was better than he expected, with a blast of syrupiness and an aftertaste that reminded him strongly of apples. "This is good," he commented. "Who made it?"

Sen stared down at his drink in thought. "A Pokémon by the name of Jermani. He's pretty famous for his concoctions. Often travels around with a circus, kinda' lucky that we bumped into him on our way up here, I think." He chuckled quietly to himself.

"Anyway, we'll start the search as soon as me and Memoo have rested up. In the meantime why don't we tell stories to pass the time?"

The hours flew by quickly, with Sen recapping a comedic tale of the occasion where he once unsuspectingly stole from an Ursaring and Memoo chiming in to add her own rendition of the story, as time went on. Hobart, in turn, told them an old fairytale that his father used to recite, where Dragonites fought with the Lapras of the sea, and Luxray prides sided with Mareep to fend off the great flock of birds that threatened to take their land.

By the end, a comfortable silence reigned down on the trio, the flames of their campfire burning low.

"Well," Sen said, getting up and stretching, "time to begin our quest then, eh?"

"Yeah," Hobart replied, pushing himself to his feet. I hope we can find him, he thought with a worried frown. … No, we will, I'm sure of it. Hold on Andrew, I'm on my way.