Chapter 1: Hello, World
The winds whispered gently as they rustled through the field of amber grass that morning, the sky lit up into a vibrant pink color as the sun poked its head just out from the horizon. It cast its light upon the endless sea of grass, stretching out in all directions until suddenly, it hit a long line of mountains, straight and jagged chains of hulking rock like teeth of a worn saw.
It was near the base of one of the mountains, ground sloping slightly uphill, that there lay a Riolu, curled up on the ground as he remained unconscious. His blue fur waved in the cold breeze.
The young Fighting-type shivered, bringing his paws to his shoulders and his knees to his chest. He whimpered, eyelids clenching tightly as he embraced himself further. The wind picked up, evolving into a mighty gale. The blades of grass all bent to its will and caressed him with their crisp edges like a thousand icy fingers.
His eyes snapped open as he awoke with a scream. He scrambled up to his feet and stared behind him as his heart tried to pound out of his chest. The wind slowly began to die down, and the blades of grass stood up once again. Gently he shook his head, an embarrassed smile furling on his face as he slowly fell down onto the dirt. Panicking over such a simple matter… Luckily no one was here to see that. Through half-open eyes, he looked down at the ground between his legs… his black-furred legs…
"What the…" the Riolu whispered, head tilted as he reached out to touch them. But then, into his sight slowly drifted a paw coated in blue fur.
The Riolu yelped as he jumped back, retracting his paw as he stared at it, wide-eyed and panting heavy, stuttering breaths. He tried to turn his wrist, and the paw then turned around, revealing the soft pink paw pad. Then he tried to move his fingers, and instead the toes began to move rhythmically, like it was trying to crawl its way forward.
"No…" the Riolu whispered. His head shook violently. "No. No, no. No no no no no. This can't be happening." He looked down to his chest. It was a patch of black fur with a jagged border leading into the blue abdomen that then cut off at the upper thigh.
"This is impossible," he said to himself. "This… I'm not… a dream!" he exclaimed, almost excited. "That's it. It's gotta be a dream… yeah…" the Fighting-type raised his arm towards his mouth, and then sank his teeth into the skin. He yelped in pain. No dice.
"God-" he growled, slamming his curled paw into the dirt. He pressed his lips together and tried his best to keep his breathing regulated. It was difficult. Either he was going insane, or this was inexplicably real.
But, it wasn't real. It couldn't be. Not that long ago he had been… in… where had he been again? Of course he had to have been in his room, laying under his… He knew there was something- he could feel there was something just beyond his grasp-, but his mind was blank. Infuriatingly blank. He squinted his eyes and pressed his paw on his temple, trying to squeeze out memories through pure force. He wanted anything he could get his hands on. Just a single drop of water to satisfy the weary desert traveler- a lone match to provide a light in the darkness. A birthday, a favorite color, a food he liked to eat, anything that hinted at a life before this one. He just stared into the blackness of a void that was his vault of memories, completely empty. That is, save for two small little glimmers, seemingly worthless trinkets that reflected whatever light was cast in there. On any other day, they would be trivial, worth less than nothing, but they were precious to him.
The first was a fact he already knew: before all this, he was human, flesh and all. And the second was merely a name. Nothing more, nothing less. He knew not if it was his, or even if it belonged to anyone he knew, but it was one of the only pieces of information he had. He sure as hell wasn't going to throw it away; the name, Riley.
It was a moment later, after escaping his thoughts, that he remembered where he was: in the brisk morning air in the middle of some God-forsaken field. He placed his paws flat-out on the dirt, pushing himself up to his feet (if he could even call them that). His eyes could barely see over the grass, but for miles and miles that was all he could see: a sea of amber running parallel to a sea of a sunrise sky, grayish purple clouds scattered like a chain of islands. That is, save for the wall of mountains behind him.
He turned around to face the chain of stone behind him, nearly dividing the skies in two. And it, too, seemingly went on for as far as his eyes could see, each one capped in snow. They must have been almost a mile high each. It made him feel incredibly small.
Whatever this world was, he wasn't going to accomplish anything by standing around. His only options were to wade out into the grass, or try his luck in the mountains… Or, he could just walk parallel to the chain, hoping to eventually stumble upon something. And with nothing out there in the field, and certain death waiting for him on his climb up, the young Fighting-type went with his third option.
Walking in this new body felt rather awkward compared to what he once knew. It was much lighter for one, but the weight was off-balance almost to a fault. With a proportionately bigger head, he felt a bit top-heavy when he moved, making the rest of his body feel springier and more agile. Part of him wanted to try out a bit more advanced movements, honing his motor functions, but he reluctantly admitted to himself that he needed to conserve h-
The Riolu froze in his place as something passed by, rustling in the grass as it scurried along. He darted his eyes towards the movement with one arm instinctively held out in front of him for defense.
"W-who's there?" he asked.
His answer came in the form of a low, bestial growl, as ahead of him emerged a purple Nidoran that glared at the Riolu with ravenous hunger. The Riolu drew back defensively, until his ear twitched. Behind him a light blue Nidoran stamped her foreleg in the dirt. Drool dripped from the corner of her mouth.
"H… hey there…" he chuckled anxiously, turning so that he could keep both Nidoran in his peripheral vision. Slowly, methodically, the two Poison-types approached a step at a time. They didn't look friendly, but the Riolu didn't know what else to do. "Do you know where I am? I just woke up here a few minutes ago, so… uh…" Not knowing what else to do, he chuckled again. The two Nidoran answered only in bestial growls. Before he knew it there was only about ten yards between him and them.
Out of desperation the Riolu summoned his courage. "Stay back," the Fighting-type barked, both arms held up to protect him. His eyes rapidly darted between the two approaching Pokémon. They were weaker Pokémon on the spectrum, sure, but… he couldn't really be all that high-level himself, could he? Even if he was, there was still the type disadvantage…
The two Pokémon got even closer still, now within a mere five feet. He had to make up his mind now or never. Flee or fight. Run away as fast as he could, hopefully leaving them behind, or to fend for his life so he could calmly walk away from this… But this body still felt so awkward to him. If he tried to run, he would just stumble and fall, and then… But if he couldn't even run, how could he expect to pull off complex fighting moves?
His decision ended up being an instinctual one when the male Nidoran pounced forward, horn aimed at the Riolu like a javelin. He jumped to the side, a blur of purple whizzing by his head. He pivoted around with an arm raised to guard himself. The female Nidoran charged ahead as her brother landed in the dirt, sliding on all fours.
The Riolu reached for the light lavender horn, gripping it tightly in his paws, and planted one foot on the ground with all his strength. Gritting his teeth, he spun around, lifting the Poison-type up and off the ground. She shrieked and kicked frantically as she was whirled around faster and faster, her tormenter equally as confused and frightened as she was.
The male shrieked in rage, then again pounced into the air. His front legs reached out in front of him and his horn led the charge. The Riolu then let go of the female, letting the momentum throw her into her brother. The two Nidorans yelped, bouncing off one another and falling back to the ground. Raising his paws close to his face, these unfamiliar paws to an equally unfamiliar body, turning his wrists to get a good look as he struggled to figure out how he knew how to do that.
Another low, bestial growl rumbled from the male's throat as the purple Nidoran got up to its feet.
"Go away," the Riolu ordered. "I don't need to fight you, whoever you are. I'll go-" In a sudden leap, the female Nidoran leapt out from the amber grass. The Fighting-type pivoted around, just in time for the horn to cut through his size, tearing skin and fur as her weight pushed him to the ground. He winced in pain, pressing his paw against the wet wound.
The female squealed with joy for but an instant, until the Riolu swung his right arm instinctively into her chin. For a moment she was dazed, and her grip weakened. Gritting his teeth, he followed this up with another slug to her chest, pushing her off of him.
He scrambled to his feet and began to run away as fast as he could, feet pressing off the dirt with all the strength he had. He moved his left paw away from the wound to see a faint stripe of red lining the pad. "Damn it," he mumbled, tightly clasping the wound again. There was nobody around to help for miles save for the two Poison-types chasing after him.
It only took him about ten feet or so before he began to feel a growing numbness inside him. All feeling in his torso left him, and only a moment later it faded into his legs and his arms. His strides became more sluggish and sporadic, almost becoming a waddle. And after another ten feet, his legs couldn't carry him any further, and the confused Fighting-Type collapsed to the ground once again, unable to move his body.
"Poison…" he wheezed. Behind him the two Nidoran were strolling up to him. In that instant he went from disliking the two out of confusion, to loathing them with every fiber of his being. If his veins didn't feel icy cold from the venom coursing in them, they would be boiling from anger. The Riolu lay there trembling, confused and scared and angry and limp. He felt like a butterfly trapped in a spider's web as the predator grew nearer and nearer. His vision grew darker and darker, dragged into the void more empty than his memories. All he could see was an amber blob, and a blurry, purple front leg almost right next to his face.
A faded chorus of grunts passed between the two Nidoran, bickering in some primal language, until the male grew silent. Gently but firmly a set of purple fangs bit down on the scruff of his neck. The Riolu's vision scrolled as he was dragged across the dirt. At least, presumably that's what was happening. There was still no sense of touch in his body, but his angle of sight shifted ever so slightly.
That is, until he heard a sudden burst pierce through the near-silence. The Nidoran, male, was sent flying into the sea of grass, bits of blue flames trailing behind him, swirling in the gentle wind. The female started, but her shocked cry was cut off as soon as it started. With a grunt, she sprawled out on the ground, rolling over a few times down the gentle slope. A blurry plume of the blue flame came across the Riolu's sight, forming a beautiful flower of fire.
"You okay?!" the Riolu heard shout behind him, accompanied by the crunching of gravel beneath his feet. The figure slid down near him, stopping right in front of him and carefully eyeing his wound. From the looks of it, he was a Charmander, soft blue eyes filled with worry. Teeth gritted, he looked up to someone the Riolu could not see. "He's bleeding," the Charmander explained. "Get some berries from the bag."
"On it," replied another voice, frail, followed by some fumbling around in some kind of sack.
The Charmander looked back down to the Riolu, staring into his barely-open eyes. "You're gonna be alright," he assured him. Everything afterwards became a muffled mess of sounds as the Fighting-type passed out into the void.
…
Moonlight poured in through the window, bathing the room in a pale white light. Six beds, three on each side, lined the walls. Their sheets and pillows were white as freshly fallen snow, and just as pristine. The overly-fresh scent of a citrus-based disinfectant hung in the air.
In one of these beds lay the Riolu, eyes closed as he slumbered with the plush blanket draped over him. Though covered, his hip was lightly bandaged to stop the minor bleeding.
And in a chair in the opposite corner sat an Audino, reading a book behind a cheap desk. Her eyes made their way down the page as she digested an old mystery novel she was half-way through. The cover-art featured a common kitchen knife with what was supposed to be blood running down the edge. It was a tad bit too bright though, like tomato soup. The title "With All Your Heart" was written in bold silver text underneath the knife. The "blood" trickled down the edge of the 'A' and pooled in between the two poles in the 'H', overflowing and running down the left side and off the cover.
"Was it the butler?" asked a friendly voice. She raised her eyes to see a Gallade, tall and proud, standing in the doorway. He was larger than most of his kind, almost having to duck under the door to avoid getting the crest upon his head caught. Though the right side of his face still resided in the shadows of the night, the majority of his caring smile was on display.
"Doubt it," Audino replied, turning back to her book. "Considering there is no butler yet, it's unlikely."
There was a brief but awkward pause between them. The smile faded into a faint grin.
"Is the kid alright?" Gallade asked, pointing to the unconscious Riolu.
"He's fine," Audino answered. "The cut wasn't even that deep. It was just a bit of poison that brought him down."
"Poison?" Gallade repeated.
"Nothing serious, or at least by itself. All it did was numb him and put him unconscious," she explained. "But if those two hadn't come across him when they did, it would be a much different story."
The Psychic-type took a few more steps further into the room, setting his eye upon the small Pokémon laying on the bed. His hands folded behind his back as the smile left altogether.
"Do me a favor and fetch the two that found him, will you?" he asked of her.
"Team Hellraisers?" she clarified. "They'd be asleep by now. Why would you-"
"Then wake them up," Gallade demanded. Audino, silent, placed a bookmark between the pages and set the novel down as she stood up slowly and walked out of the room, turning to go down the hall where all the dorms resided. And behind her, the door silently drifted shut.
The Psychic-type loomed over the Riolu now, his left eye carefully studying his form. His height, his shoulder width, the length of his muzzle, every strand of hair on his body, and every other little detail was collected and put into a mental model. After a mere ten or fifteen seconds, he put it next to all the others and placed his hand on the Riolu's chest.
"Wake up," Gallade whispered gently as he lightly shook the Fighting-type. Slowly, those young red eyes opened to the darkness, revealing the figure standing in the moonlight. It only took a second for him to process that, and when he did he realized something wasn't right.
"Where-"
"It's okay, you're safe now," Gallade cut him off. "Some of my explorers found you. They brought you back to the Guild for safekeeping."
"'Guild?'" the Riolu repeated.
Gallade paused for an instant. "The… The Guild of Astraean."
"Astr… What?" The Riolu propped himself up on his elbows and took in the room. Sufficiently roused from his hazy state of awakening, the boy was beginning to process the information.
Gallade gave the boy a sidelong stare. "You haven't heard of the Guild before?" the older Pokémon. The Riolu shook his head. Gallade paused yet again, this time longer. His gaze fell to the floor for a second or two before he hesitantly spoke up. "Tell me… what were you doing in the Whispering Prairie?" Gallade asked him. The boy only gave him a curious glance, and the Psychic-type became a bit more firm. "You know, the dungeon you were found in."
The Riolu cocked his head. So many things weren't making any sense. On the grand scale of things, their definition of a dungeon was on low priority. "I don't know. I just woke up there." The Riolu looked curiously up at the tall Psychic-Type, head tilted as Gallade returned a dissecting gaze back to him. "Why do you care?" he asked.
"It's my job to care," Gallade muttered, the heat in his voice transforming the kind words into a curse. "But I'll admit it doesn't help that you're, if I'm correct, not really a Riolu."
"That's right," the Riolu replied. "I was a human before this. At least, I think I was."
Gallade took a short breath and turned away, staring out the window and into the heavens. His face was as pale as the moonlight he basked in. "Keep that between us," he suggested.
"Why?" the Riolu asked hesitantly.
"Humans... are a complicated issue," Gallade answered. "They're a bad memory, you could say, and they aren't exactly looked upon favorably. If you're caught…" He took a slow inhale through his nostrils, as if bracing for something neither he nor the kid could identify. A shiver ran up the Psychic-type's spine.
The Riolu opened his mouth to ask again, but the older Pokemon cut him off. "Don't. It's not safe to talk about it. Ever. I know you just woke up, but you need to instill that into your mind. If you're ever compromised, you're on your own." The silence was palpable as the warning loomed in the air like a plague. Curious, frightened eyes analyzed the tall figure as the Riolu fought to maintain his composure.
"Just who are you?" he mused aloud, his head tilted to the side.
The Gallade turned back to the Riolu again, now facing him entirely. Moonlight poured in from the window, revealing a faded red scar over the tall Pokémon's permanently closed right eye. With a near-silent gasp, the Riolu almost lost the support of his arms and nearly fell back on the bed.
"Gallade," the Psychic-Type answered, his voice low. "Just Gallade." His arms were sternly folded as they rested on the red horn jutting out of his chest. He watched with interest as the boy shook and stared with a complete lack of subtlety at the eye that was no longer. Amused, Gallade leaned down slightly to provide a better view.
"Y-you don't… you're m-missing your…" the Riolu stammered.
"I'm well aware," Gallade chuckled. "There's the whole 'lack of depth perception' that kind of makes me unable to forget."
"I-I'm sorry… i-it just caught me off guard," he admitted. "It's actually kinda cool." If his body was working properly his face would have flushed.
"'Cool?'" Gallade repeated, and an instant later he was stifling laughter. "I get surprise a lot, but admiration? That's a first. That's definitely a first… But, enough about me. What about you, hm? Now that everything is established, do you recall anything?"
"Uh… N-no." It was the truth, of course, but the change in the conversation threw him off.
Gallade rolled his eyes. "Amnesia. Of course, they always do… Do you at least have a name, or do we have to make one up?"
"I… I think I do?" the Riolu considered. "It's a name. I don't know if it's mine or not, but it's all I can remember: Riley."
"...'Riley'." Gallade took a deep breath, and then bottled up the thought before he could voice it. For the boy's part, he didn't seem to notice. "Alright. Riley it is, then. Is this all you remember?"
"I think so," the newly-dubbed Riley told him.
Gallade opened his mouth to speak, lips parting just a thin sliver, but was cut off by the squeal of the hinges as the infirmary door opened. From the hall came a tired slur of words. "You called?" asked a small voice. There stood the short figure of a Roselia, gently rubbing the sleep out of her eye with the blue flower.
"Perfect," Gallade said, bringing his hands together in a lone clap. "Miss Rose, I'd like to introduce you to Riley- the boy you saved earlier."
"Wait, what?" Riley exclaimed, confusingly staring at the small Grass-type. He reached into his fuzzy mind for the few minutes before he woke up, back in the sea of grass apparently named Whispering Prairie. Just as he was passing out, numb from the poison, then came the bursts of fire… and then the Charmander, followed by a quick statement by a small voice… was that her?
Her weary gaze shifted to the Riolu laying in the bed, who shyly looked back at her with wavering eyes. "What about him?" she asked.
"About who?" inquired yet another voice, not nearly as exhausted. And behind the Grass-type approached a Charmander, peering in the doorway as he towered over her. His gentle blue eyes settled upon Riley on the other end of the room. "Oh, you're awake," he observed with a smile, stepping past the Roselia and moving towards the Riolu.
"Sorry to wake you two at this hour," Gallade apologized. "But, I was talking with Riley here, and… well, he doesn't have any memories." The Charmander stopped suddenly, shifting his gaze between the Guildmaster and the Riolu.
The Roselia curiously stared at Riley, head tilted slightly. "Amnesia?" she assumed, her voice low, likely wondering why it couldn't wait until morning.
"It seems so," Gallade replied. "But, I want to ask you… was there anything you noticed about him when you found him out there?"
"What do you mean?" the Roselia asked.
"Did he have any items near him? Even something like an apple or a berry?" he clarified.
"We didn't really look," the Charmander admitted with his head lowered. "At the time we didn't think to keep searching. I just wanted to make sure he wasn't… dying." Gallade shifted his eye to the floor, staring intently at seemingly nothing with his fists clenched. "S-sorry," the Fire-type mumbled meekly. "I… I-"
"Don't worry about it," Gallade dismissed, smiling down at him in a sudden transformation. "After all, you'll be going back tomorrow to complete your mission, right? You could just look around then."
"How are we supposed to…" the Roselia started, but trailed off as she answered her own question. "We're bringing him back there ourselves, aren't we?" she asked.
"Sharp as ever," Gallade commented. He peered out the window briefly, for no more than a second or two before turning towards the doorway. "It's getting late. You can stay up for a little bit longer, but make sure to head to bed before too long." He casually waved goodnight to them as he stepped past the Roselia, turning sharply and disappearing into the darkness.
There was an awkward moment of silence between the three children now that the Guildmaster was gone, broken only when the Grass-type began slowly walking further in. "So, 'Riley'," she said to the Riolu. "You really don't remember anything?"
Riley panicked and pulled out the first defense he could think of. "That's what amnesia means," he replied, perhaps a bit more harsh than intended, but at least the Roselia didn't press further.
"'Riley'," the Charmander repeated musingly. "Weird… most Pokémon don't have a name."
"Why's that?" Riley asked back.
Rose shifted her gaze uncomfortably. "To a lot of Pokemon, names… are associated with 'them.' At least in these parts they are. It's been that way for hundreds of cycles now."
"R-right. That makes sense," he hesitantly answered, a paw on the back of his head. 'Cycles?'
The Charmander extended his left claw towards the Riolu, a friendly smile upon his face as his kind blue eyes stared directly into Riley's red ones; red, like an exotic flower. "Nice to meet someone else with a name. Mine's Pyro."
Riley returned it with his own friendly look. "Right," he said, and took the outstretched claw into his paw and shook it firmly.
"And if you didn't overhear it, mine's Rose," the Grass-type added. "I'd offer to shake, but… well, thorns. You get it." He pretended as though he did, but he wouldn't until much later.
"So, I guess you'll be tagging along with us, tomorrow," Pyro said.
"That's right," he murmured.
"What, a bit nervous?" the Charmander asked. Riley nodded, but he wasn't quite sure if he was. Thinking about going back actually intrigued him. The wound at his side began to burn ever so slightly. "Don't be," Pyro encouraged before patting him on the back. "We'll be there to keep you safe."
There was another moment of silence. A long, awkward moment, as if time had stood still. Again, this was broken by Rose, as she exhaled sharply before calling to her partner. "Come on, let's leave him alone," she ordered.
"But we just started talking," Pyro whined.
"He has amnesia, remember?" she scolded. "This is probably confusing for him. And he doesn't need someone he just met all up in his face right now."
"Well… I-I guess you're right," he pouted. "Sorry."
"It's fine," Riley replied, feigning a smile. Pyro turned around and walked away, his gaze shifted to the stone floor. As he left through the doorway, he turned and gave one quick wave to the Fighting-type before vanishing from sight.
"Make sure to tell us if you remember something," Rose muttered to Riley, and then turned back around to follow her partner.
Now alone, Riley leaned back in the guest bed of the infirmary. His paws were positioned beneath the back of his head, propping him up to comfortably gaze out the window. Moonlight continued to stream in and highlight the other side of the room. This room… it was part of the Guild, right? Aren't Guilds supposed to have a lot of peop- uh, Pokémon in them? So why did this place feel so… empty? There are more beings in the world than the ones he encountered, right?
With a sigh he plopped back down on the meager bed and slid his paws behind his head. There would be a lot of information to gather and process, especially if he had nobody to give him a foundation. Perhaps everything would be as he vaguely recalled from his own world. Tomorrow he would have clarification on how things translated over. His brief experience today had taught him little, and if he was stuck here like he thought he was, he had to pool his thoughts as well as he could. And Riley had just woken up, hadn't he? Sleep was the last thing on his mind. There were still hours left to piece things together…
"'Riley,'" he whispered. The name was his now. It felt… strange? That was silly- everything about this was strange. Having a name like that was the most normal thing that had happened so far, yet somehow it was that ounce of normalcy that cemented that this was no dream. Whoever the boy had been, now he was Riley the Riolu. And through his growing anxiety, there was a growing excitement deep within him.
…
Audino now sat in the empty mess hall, illuminated by a glowing crystal she had placed on the table. The light was a beautiful jade color, bathing the pages of the book as she read through it with wide eyes. She inched closer and closer to it, as if someone were trying to take it away from her.
"Is now a bad time?" asked a voice. She looked up, startled, to see Gallade standing there. Again.
"A little bit," she sighed, marking her page and closing the book, annoyed.
"I'll keep it quick, I promise," he told her, sitting down across from Audino.
"Shoot," she said back to him.
"Keep an eye on the Riolu we just got," he whispered, leaning in close. Audino tilted her head. "He's one of 'them.'"
"Another one?" she asked in disbelief. Gallade nodded to clarify. "Oh lord..." Her uneasy gaze shifted from one end of the room to the other. "You know, Rhyperior should-"
"He doesn't need to know," Gallade interjected. "I just need you to work your magic."
Audino let out a defeated sigh. "If any of this ever gets out…" She trailed off as a shiver ran down her spine.
"It won't," he promised sincerely. His remaining eye held a burning intensity as it stared down at her. She looked back with an expression Gallade knew the meaning of: hope for the best, yet brace for the worst. It only inspired the Guildmaster to stand his ground. "I'll keep them safe. No one will have to know."
