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The village was eerily silent as the guards led Rok and Reaper towards the Elders quarters. Rok felt himself tense with unease. He wasn't sure why he felt so unsettled; he'd seen the village at night plenty of times. He knew every den, every store, every tree and bush. He knew this place like the back of his paw. Actually, the back of his paw was rather unfamiliar now, so really he knew this place like the back of his old paw. Either way, he should be relaxed. He was finally home again! He would get to see his mother, and Silvo, and the Elders would find a job for his evolution and maybe he could wander down to the town to visit Reaper and Smoke and Rage every now and then and everything would be perfect!
So why did he feel like something was about to pounce on him from behind?
They arrived at the Elder's shared den. It was by far the biggest in the village, standing at more than twice Rok's height. Vines hung over the opening, and the actual structure was about three-times as wide as Rok's own family den. He'd been inside a couple times, usually if the Elders had summoned his class to teach them something specific about the village's history. It was heavily decorated with various trinkets such as pretty wings, shells, and heart scales, suspended from the roof and walls with strings and vines. Before, it had left Rok in awe that such a big and mighty structure existed. But now, after visiting the town, the den looked small, filthy, and pitiful.
"Wait here." Ruby said, eyes narrowed in a threatening glare. There were still scorch marks on her fur from the Burn (which Rok still didn't know how she got). Cloud had fetched some rawst berries from the healers' stores to heal their Burns (admittedly, he gave one to Rok only grudgingly but Rok wasn't going to complain).
Ruby was inside the den for what felt like years. Rok strained his ears to try and listen in on what was happening, but all he could pick out were faint murmurs. Reaper shifted uncomfortably behind him, glaring at her surroundings as if the sticks and shrubs had personally insulted her. Cloud just stared straight ahead, occasionally breaking posture to glare at Rok and Reaper for a few moments, before reverting back to staring ahead.
When Ruby finally left the den, her expression was carefully blank. "The Elders will see you now."
The Elders were the village's rulers, for lack of a better term. There were seven of them, one for each evolution. The position was held for life, and when one Elder died, the responsibility was passed on to the eldest member of their evolution. The Elders were the ones who decided how best to ration their food for the winter, they organised the patrol routes and the education system. Every eevee's evolution was ultimately decided by them based on recommendations by their espeon teachers. They were the oldest members of the village. They knew more of their history than any other eevee or evolution. They had solutions for nearly every possible crisis that the village may suffer from. Their word was law, and no-one argued with them not for fear of punishment but because everyone gladly accepted that they knew best.
Now, more than ever, Rok hoped that was true.
Ruby led him and Reaper into the heart of the den, where all the Elders were already gathered in a circle, studying them expressionlessly. Eventually, Violet, the Espeon Elder, turned to the guards.
"Leave us." She ordered. They bowed their heads and obeyed, without even once glancing at Rok and Reaper.
"Who are you, and why are you here?" asked Sirron, the Jolteon Elder.
Didn't Ruby tell them?
"My name is Rok, and this is Reaper. I am a member of this village, but I got lost two days ago during my final test as an eevee."
The Sylveon Elder, Rosa, cocked her head to one side. "One of the eevee students did go missing during that test…"
Rok perked up. "Yes! That's me. I fell into the river and got swept away. By the time I'd finally managed to pull myself out of the river, night had fallen, and I was so battered and bruised that I'd fainted."
"And evolved into an umbreon." Violet said. It wasn't a question.
Rok blinked up at her in surprise. "Yes. Did Ruby tell you that?"
"She didn't need to." Said Verdan, his leaf-like tail waving lazily, "You fit the description from the old stories.
Wait, so his village did know about umbreon? "What old stories?"
"You wouldn't know them. They are told only amongst Elders, to aid us in our decisions for the future of the village." Explained Rosa, "Some of them tell stories of an eighth evolution, umbreon, who evolved with the blessing of the moon."
Reaper quietly scoffed at that and Rok nudged her to be quiet.
"The role of the umbreon was to guard the village at night." Violet told them. "They were weakened in the sunshine, and they preferred darkness over light. When the moon rose it blessed them with power, and they used that power to defend us from anything and everything that may use the shadow of night to try and destroy us."
"I'm sensing a "but"." Reaper muttered.
"But they didn't defend us from themselves." Darla, the Glaceon Elder, said darkly.
"There it is."
The Vaporeon Elder, Aria, glared at her before continuing the story herself. "The umbreon were aggressive, attacking anything that caught them off guard with the ferocity of a wild pokémon. And if they didn't pounce on their fellow villagers with teeth and fangs then they would spray poison in their eyes."
Rok stepped back in shock. Poison? "But…I can't do that."
"You can." Roden, the Flareon Elder, said bluntly. "You simply haven't discovered the ability yet. Pray to Arceus that you never do."
"The incidents grew worse at night when the moon rose." Rosa said sadly, "The moon gave the umbreon a terrible power. They would create a terrifying aura around themselves that would strike fear into the hearts of anyone near them. It didn't matter if they were friend or foe, anyone around an umbreon empowered by the moon would immediately be frozen in terror. And with how aggressive the umbreon were, especially at night with the moon's power flowing through their veins…" she sighed, "Many villagers were gravely injured in confrontations with the umbreon."
"Eventually the Elders came to a decision." Violet continued, "The umbreon were simply too dangerous. They were just as much a threat to village safety as the wild pokémon they defended us from. As a result, we were forced to exile them, and ensure that no other member of our village would evolve into one ever again."
Rok couldn't believe it. The Elders made it sound like the umbreon were vicious monsters! He didn't feel particularly aggressive, but maybe it was like the poison he could supposedly spray, he just didn't realise that he'd changed yet. And what they were saying made perfect sense. Hadn't he, himself, created that aura of terror less than an hour ago? What if he really was a danger to everyone around him? He'd wanted desperately to go home but, what if by going home, he'd hurt the very people he missed the most?
"Are you serious right now?"
Rok jolted with surprise and turned to stare at Reaper, who was bristling with rage at the Elders. "I'm willing to bet that all of the evolutions have caused a fair amount of harm to other villagers over the course of history, yet I don't see any of them getting banned."
"The umbreon were more aggressive-" Verdan started to explain, but Reaper cut him off with a sharp bark of laughter. "Oh yeah, I'm sure they were. After all, anything would become more aggressive if all that was known about their behaviour was told to a select group of pokémon over the course of who knows how many generations. For all you know, these attacks could've been just a few isolated incidents of some umbreon reaching their breaking point from everyone treating them like they're wild."
"We can't take that risk." Sirron said firmly.
Reaper growled and jerked her head at Rok. "Take it from someone who's spent the last couple days hanging around this guy: he's not a danger. He's about as threatening as a baby bellsprout. And I'm pretty sure he has family and friends that are worried sick about him right now. Are you just going to let them wallow away in grief and think he's dead because of some stories about something that happened years ago?"
The Elders didn't reply, but the hard glares on their faces were more than enough of an answer.
Reaper snarled and took a threatening step forward, but Rok moved in front of her. "It's fine Reaper," he said, staring down at the ground, "you told me this might happen anyway. It's not a big deal. Let's just go."
Reaper didn't want to. He could hear her taking a breath for a furious retort, but he looked up at her, meeting her eyes with a silent plea.
Reaper's gaze softened and she gave a tiny nod, shooting one last glare at the Elders before storming out of the den. Rok didn't even bother looking back. He wasn't sure he'd have the strength to walk out of the den if he did.
"I'm sorry."
Rok didn't look up at Reaper. They had just passed the border of the village, though to Rok it felt like he'd just stepped off the edge of a cliff. "It's fine. It's hardly a surprise anyway."
"This place was your home Rok, you shouldn't be kicked out because of an evolution you didn't want."
Rok shrugged. "Don't know if it would be much of a home anymore either way. You said it yourself: everyone hates Dark Types."
Reaper seemed to have no reply for that. Hesitantly, almost awkwardly, she gently pressed her side against Rok's, her soft fur brushing against his in a small gesture of comfort.
He barely felt it.
"Rok? Is that you?"
The newly exiled umbreon immediately grew tense, slowly turning to face whoever had spoken.
It was a jolteon, but a rather odd-looking one, with bright green fur instead of vibrant yellow. It padded towards them, and Reaper growled and moved so she was standing in front of Rok, almost like she was protecting him. But this jolteon didn't seem hostile. If anything it just seemed curious, even hopeful.
Rok narrowed his eyes, staring at the jolteon's strange green fur, before meeting its purple gaze. "Silvo?"
A/N: Welp. This was a sad chapter. Sorry folks, but looks like Rok doesn't get to go home just yet.
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