Chapter 2: A Clawful of Questions


For the second time in his uncomfortably short, extremely fuzzy memory, Gible wasn't quite sure of what was happening. He was in yet another void, or at least that's what it felt like. At first he thought this void was black instead of white, but further inspection revealed that his eyelids were closed and no amount of will power would open them.

There was some kind of pressure on his sides and it felt as though his legs were hanging limply. Was someone holding him? That couldn't be. The only other person around should have been Trapinch. And not only was Trapinch the same height as him, Trapinch didn't have the limbs needed to carry someone, or anything for that matter.

Well, that mouth of his was pretty big… Gible quickly dismissed the thought. Whatever those pointy things were that passed for Trapinch's teeth should have hurt far more than what he was feeling now. So then who was it?

Gible's mind began racing, trying to think of anyone else he had been with recently. Did Trapinch live alone? The room they were quite spacious, and there was probably a staircase in there too. But Gible didn't remember hearing anybody else and he could have sworn that it was late enough in the morning for everyone to be up.

Remember, remember, remember. He couldn't remember anything else beyond his little interaction with Trapinch. No, no, that's not right. This is wrong. That talk with Trapinch was a dream, it had to have been! This is reality, so why can't I remember? There's gotta be something, any- Gible experienced what could only have been the person holding him suddenly letting go.

He fell onto a rough surface and grunted. Nothing felt too badly injured, but being dropped like that would have hurt regardless of anything.

A high-pitched, feminine voice cried out. "Ah! Oh, come on! I was so close too!" Guess Trapinch didn't live alone after all.

Another voice spoke up, this one female too, but with a deeper tone that sounded distinctly more adult. "Yes, darling I'm sure you were. Now can we please be done here? I'm a very busy Pokémon, and my itinerary does not have much room for your games." Huh. Gible could imagine Trapinch living with the first voice, but the second one didn't sound like she'd make for a good roommate at all. Just what was going on here?

"Don't talk to me like that Cressy! You know this is important! It's not a game, and you owe me this favor!" Gible was able to slowly open his eyes and look at his surroundings.

Well, he tried at least. There were two pastel-colored blobs a few feet away from him, but they were so blurry and distorted that Gible didn't bother trying to see what they were, so he started looking around himself instead.

This time his surroundings were actually colored for once, and Gible was able to fully take in the wonders of gray. Looking around, his shaky and distorted view managed to take in what appeared to be a large cavern. It seemed to stretch on forever, and he felt impossibly small just trying to look across it. There were bits of bright green dotted around the walls, and looking directly at them hurt. Gible hazarded a guess that these were providing all the light in the cave, considering that he had seen no ways out of the chamber.

Well, this is something at least. Kinda feels… like home? Is this where I'm from? A big hole in the ground with no way in or out? That can't be it. Maybe those two know what's up?

"Hey! Hey you two! What's going on here?" Gible rubbed his eyes after speaking, and his vision started to gradually clear up.

Both of the figures in front of him floated off of the ground. The smaller of the two had a baby-blue body with two tails that were just as long as its body. The tails had red gems studded into their ends. Its head and "hair" were pink, and another red gem was in its forehead. Gible couldn't place a name to the figure's species but something about it felt mystical.

The other figure was much larger than the other, and shared a similar color scheme. It was some kind of bird with no limbs or wings, but it had a yellowish body with three strange, pink loops springing from it. Judging from the one name he heard called out, this must have been Cressy, with her vaguely crescent-shaped head. Gible couldn't recall Cressy's species either, but she radiated the same mystical aura has her associate.

It was Cressy who spoke first. "Well look at that Messy. Your charge is awake. I presume this means I can leave now?" Gible stifled a laugh at that. It might have been hypocritical for him to laugh at someone's name, but having no name was better than being called Messy.

Messy clearly did not share Gible's sentiments however. "Hey! If you're gonna nickname me, at least try making it not an insult!"

"What? Like "Cressy" isn't insulting either? Please darling. You won't stop raving about how this is official business, so at least try to maintain some kind of consistent line of thought. Apparently we're supposed to be professional."

"Alright fine, Cresselia. There, I said it. Happy?" Messy crossed her arms and a look of extreme annoyance crossed her face.

Cresselia, Cresselia. Gible was deep in thought now. That's the… dream goddess right? Is this a dream? That would explain why it feels so nice in here. But why is she visiting me of all Pokémon? Gible had to interrupt them now before Cresselia found some way to poke holes into Messy's apology.

"Hey, I'm glad you worked out your differences and all, but seriously, do you mind telling me what this is all about? It's poor etiquette to argue in front of other people, especially in what I can only assume is their own home." Gible hoped he didn't sound too rude, but he did want to voice how upset he was. His entire memory consisted of having an emotional break down and then waking up to two goddesses arguing. His life could certainly be doing better.

Messy tried to speak but Cresselia cut her off. "You see my dear, you had a little panic attack so the noble Mesprit decided the best thing to do was to waste my valuable time fixing you while you're unconscious. So could you please wake up already? I'm a very busy Pokémon, and there are other, more important dreams I should be visiting." She was a bit rude, but Gible ignored that last part. He was just glad to finally have some kind of answer.

This did bring up even more questions though. What did she mean by "fixing"? Things like that happened all the time, there was nothing wrong with having a panic attack. Sure his memories were gone, but Gible was far from broken.

"Well, thanks I guess. But why me? I'm sure there are loads of Pokémon who needed this more than I did. And about why I needed this, you wouldn't happen to know what happened to my memories, would you?" It was a shot in the dark at best and the transition was awful. The odds that either the goddesses of dreams or emotions would know about his condition in particular were slim as well, but asking certainly wouldn't hurt.

Mesprit for once finally managed to get the first word in. "Well… It's a long story, and my role in everything is so minuscule that it really doesn't matter..." She had a bashful look on her face as she spoke, and she rubbed the back of her head. She was not at all comfortable with this topic.

"Well you've gotta know something, right? I need this! Something, anything!" Gible's tone of voice as he said this became increasingly more aggressive as he went on. It occurred to him that he should probably play nice with literal goddesses, but this small chance that he could learn anything was too much to pass up.

"Look, it's not important right now. What matters is that a little veggie told me that if I didn't help you uh – ignore your memory loss it would come back to bite us. So I did! Almost anyways, I'm not quite done. You mind giving me one more minute? You too Cresselia." Mesprit managed to turn the conversation back to her side remarkably quickly, and that upset Gible.

"Yeah I'll give you a minute, and plenty of 'em too cause you better hold on! What do you mean "ignore" my memory loss?! That's quite literally the only thing I have at this point, and I think that's pretty important!" Gible was quite angry now. Gible hoped for answers, and just about anything would do. A simple yes or no would have sufficed earlier. Even more questions was the last thing he wanted.

"Okay look, there are things going on that are bigger than me, or even you. I don't know everything, but apparently if I didn't step in like I did, things will turn out poorly. You took your amnesia worse than you were expected to, so I uh, fixed you! I put a little "barricade" in your mind so that thinking about your amnesia wouldn't let you panic. But I didn't quite finish, so can I please try again? I'm mostly done, it'll only be a moment!" Mesprit's tone of voice was sickeningly sweet by the time she finished.

Gible stopped registering what she said halfway through. The idea that there was something wrong with Gible was nothing foreign to him. He had just lost all of his personal memories after all. But the notion that there was something more than that insulted him. Sure, he did break down after realizing that he was an amnesiac, but he handled it well enough. He didn't lash out at Trapinch, so that was something.

It was the idea that something deep down was wrong with him hurt. He acted as rationally as he could, and that still wasn't an optimal outcome for Mesprit? He was perfectly fine. He had no memories, but that didn't mean he needed anyone, let alone a goddess to step in like this. If anyone overreacted it was Mesprit and whoever told her all that panicky nonsense. Mesprit wasn't just overreacting either, she was going too far. She was treating Gible like he was nothing, doing everything she could to ignore his questions and then expecting him to just roll over and do whatever she wanted.

And just what was so important about Gible that Mesprit had to micromanage him? And why was Mesprit playing a part in anything? Gible could understand Cresselia needing to pay off a debt, but Mesprit's case was a whole other story. She was the goddess of emotions, which sure, emotions are important, but this conspiracy Gible found himself in was just too much.

Gible couldn't take it anymore. Everything was going too fast, and he was unable to keep track of it all. Questions he had about some things were replaced with questions that were entirely different. Who was he? What happened to him? What was this plot going on that was bigger than a goddess and why did Gible have the misfortune of being at its center? He had enough. Mesprit's insinuation that Gible was broken was the last thing he was going to have. It was time Gible did something for himself.

"No. No, no, no! You stay away from me, you hear? I am sick of all this nonsense that I've had to go through! You tell whoever inspired you to do this that they were wrong. I'm fine, and I don't need your help. So just tell Cresselia that her debt's paid, and get out of here!" Gible sighed after speaking. It was good to yell like that and get out what he needed to say. He was still mad, but for the first time it felt like he had some semblance of control over anything.

Cresselia jumped on her opportunity to get out. Her attitude seemed to completely change after realizing that things might be going her way for once. "Well darling, looks like that's it! If he doesn't want your help, what can we do? Leading ponyta and all that, you know?"

Mesprit's cheerful demeanor was replaced with distress. She rubbed her paws together and looked back and forth between Gible and Cresselia. "N-no, Cresselia please. And Gible, I know this looks bad, but please… This is important, I swear! O-on my divinity! On my anything please! It'll be done before you can blink! Just let me finish! The barricade's already there, I just need to clean up, make sure there's no unintended consequences!" Mesprit was pleading at this point.

Gible saw the fear in Mesprit's eyes and knew he was on the edge of going too far, but he just couldn't go through with it. He had been pushed around too much, and had to stand his ground, for his own sake.

"Mesprit, I'm sure whatever we're tangled up in is important, but no. Whatever fix you needed to make is already done, so we're just gonna have to live with it. And I assure you, I'm fine. If – and that's a big if – there are some side effects, I'll deal with them, okay? Now Cresselia, would you please hurry up and end this already?" Gible decided to tone himself down for that. He had already experienced enough emotional trauma today, there was no need to put Mesprit through that too.

"Well dear, if you say so!" Cresselia's cheerful demeanor seemed to get better now that there was no way Mesprit was winning this one. "One moment!"

The loops on Cresselia shimmered a bright pink, and white sparkles came off of them. Her eyes glowed in a similar manner.

Gible's vision started turning to how it was when he first opened his eyes here. First Mesprit's form, then Cresselia started blurring out, becoming messy blobs of bright colors. The blurriness then spread to the cave walls, and eventually everything became an unintelligible mess.

The last thing Gible heard was one last desperate plea from Mesprit. "Gible please! It's too dangerous! We don't know what'll hap-" The dream ended.


Gible's body jerked, and he found himself back in Trapinch's house. It felt quite odd to have woken up in this manner. It was like he was being dragged out of one reality and into another, which wasn't entirely inaccurate. Gible got up out of the bed, and looked around to make sure that this really was Trapinch's house.

The tan sandstone walls were still there, and the straw bed under him was there too, if a bit messier than it already was. The room Gible was in was quite well furnished, but he couldn't see how Trapinch could make use of most of it. Gible saw chairs that he would have had trouble getting on, let alone someone confined to all fours. The smell of some kind of berry floated through the air as well, but its source was hidden from Gible. It seemed as though the only thing that wasn't there anymore was Trapinch himself.

What was new was the discovery that the room he was in had a bend in it. Gible could only hope that Trapinch was around the corner.

"Uh, Trapinch you there? I'm feeling better now! Still have amnesia though. How long was I out?" There was a metallic clang, and Gible heard Trapinch call out.

"Oh! Already? That was the shortest nap I've ever seen! Just a moment, I'm the kitchen and I've got something for you!" Ooh a surprise! Just hope it's something good for once. Gible quickly dismissed the thought. Of course it was going to be good, Trapinch had tried to do nothing but help. Trapinch would never know it, but Gible already held more respect for him than he did for some gods.

And sure enough, rounding the corner was an orange figure with some kind of metal container. There was a spout or something like that on one of its sides. The container also had a wiry handle that Trapinch held in his mouth, and balanced on his head was a very large apple.

Well that certainly is something. An apple that large in what's probably the desert? That must have run him a fortune! There's no way I can accept, in totality at least…

Trapinch made his way over to Gible, and set down the container. In the process the apple rolled right off his head, and Gible caught it before it hit the ground. The five-second rule might have applied, but Gible did not want to eat more sand.

"I uh, presume this is for me?" Gible was able to truly appreciate the apple's size as he felt it in his claw. If he had to guess, it would barely fit inside his mouth.

"Yeah, it's all yours! I can't imagine the last time you ate, and you do have a pretty big mouth – no offense – so it's all yours!" Trapinch beamed.

"Look Trapinch, I appreciate the offer, I really do, but I can't accept this whole thing. I'm not that hungry, how 'bout we split it?" Gible was only partially lying. He could accept. The temptation to swallow the apple whole was enticing, but he resisted it. He was thankful for the help, but this was a tad too much.

Trapinch's head tilted, and a confused look spread across his face. "Are you worried about the price? Don't be. I got that for pretty much free, so it's really nothing. It's a long story, but I helped someone and they couldn't pay with Poké, so they gave me a bunch of apples instead. I'm actually a bit worried I won't get through them before they rot." Oh. Well in that case…

Gible gave in to his temptation. One second the apple was there, the next all of Gible's hunger disappeared instantly. That was a very good apple.

"Man that was good! Sorry for my uh, poor table manners. What's in the thing?"

"This, is oran berry tea! The healing effects are diluted a bit as a tea, but it still tastes alright! Might be a bit cold though, I wasn't was fast as I thought I was. Hang on a moment, and I'll get us some cups. Then we'll start discussing what to do, alright?"

Gible had no objections, so with a nod of his head Trapinch marched off back into his kitchen. Gible decided to use this time to come up with some questions to ask Trapinch. He knew that there would be no point in asking the ones he brought up with Mesprit, but this would be a good chance to learn more about other things.

The big question was where Gible was. He assumed it was a desert given the sandstone walls, moderate heat, and the fact that his host was a Trapinch, but Gible couldn't be too sure. They could actually be in a forest, and Trapinch might have very poor taste in interior design.

Gible had some other questions swirling around in his head too, but didn't get a chance to develop them as much as he would have liked. Trapinch was deceptively quick, and already right in front of him.

On his front left… paw? Leg? Limb? Were two brown clay cups. To Gible's bewilderment it appeared as if they floated next to Trapinch's leg. Despite not having any visible digits on that leg, or the cups not having handle, when Trapinch moved his leg over to Gible, a cup followed. That question took top priority.

"How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"That. With your leg and the cup. You don't have fingers, or claws, or anything. How'd you pick it up?"

"What? I don't – what – what do you mean? Like this?" Trapinch began moving his limb around, taking the cup with it. In an impressive display of dexterity Trapinch even passed the cup from his left to his right. Then, as if taunting Gible, he threw it from one leg to the other. "It's really not that big a deal."

"You know what? You're right. Let's forget that I asked. Just hand it over." He grumbled. Gible put his arm out to receive the cup. Trapinch matched him, and stuck his leg out. Gible grabbed the cup and then it promptly fell out of his grasp. Gible was glad that he was a short as he was, and quickly picked it back up.

Oh you've gotta be kidding me. Gods I look like a moron right now. I'm just gonna ignore that happened.

"You mind if I ask a few questions before we start discussing? I really need this."

"Oh, yeah! I'd be surprised if you didn't." Trapinch poured himself some tea, and offered the pot to Gible.

"I think maybe you should handle that part. Okay, first question. Where are we?" Gible set the cup down and slid it over to Trapinch.

"Well, this is my house in Korb Town. Korb Town is in the eastern part of the Attaman Desert, which is in the northwestern part of the Lambent Region. Don't let the name fool you. Korb Town outgrew its name a long time ago." The name of the Lambent Region felt familiar to Gible, but the rest was entirely new to him.

"Right, Lambent, right, right. Next, who are you? Not trying to be rude, of course. You said ah, something about a "Protectors Association"?" Gible accepted the now filled cup from Trapinch.

The tea was good. It was nothing to write home about, but for the first thing he drank in recorded memory it was alright. Gible attributed its shortcomings to it having cooled off. Gible gave the cup back to Trapinch and declined to have more.

"Yeah, the Protectors Association! We're a bit of a peacekeeping organization. We do everything we can to protect the Pokémon of the region. There are groups like us around the world, like the Treasure Town Guild on the uh, Something Continent, but we're a bit different, I think. Last I read their work is mostly with mystery dungeons, but Protectors – that's what we're called - are permitted to do anything to help Pokémon in need. Beyond that, the Association has a lot of influence over the region, so some of the higher ranked teams are assigned missions that deal with the politics of the Lambent Region." Gible had a hard time registering that last part.

In what way does helping out common Pokémon lead to getting involved in politics? Why does the Association need to involve itself anyway?

"I'm not sure I understand. Why does the Association send Pokémon on missions like that?" It was an honest question, but if Gible wasn't an amnesiac he'd have felt like a fool for asking it. Trapinch said that part of his explanation so nonchalantly that it must have been common knowledge to any Pokémon.

"Oh yeah, I guess you wouldn't know..." Trapinch's cheerful mood immediately faltered as he told this story. "Long story short, the Lambent Region isn't a very nice place to live. Hasn't been for a long time. If I remember correctly, it used to be one unified thing hundreds of years ago, but something happened and pretty much over night the different parts of the continent violently broke away from each other. Then those parts broke up, and those parts broke up, and now the whole region is in a state of constant civil war."

"Ooh, that. That doesn't sound very good. Guess it's a good thing there are Pokémon like you, eh?" Gible wasn't as surprised by this as he thought he should have been. Just like the name of the region, the fact that an entire continent was in a constant state of civil war surprised him far less than it should have.

"Oh don't mention it. It's pretty much a job like any other. But speaking of, I guess I should formally introduce myself, huh? I'm Trapinch, bronze-ranked Protector! I've been in serving Korb Town for the last two years! I have a name don't worry, it's just standard procedure for Protectors to go by their species name with clients. It's about "paying homage to an older time" or something." Trapinch obviously had no ill-intent when introducing himself, but Gible couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit slighted by what Trapinch called him.

A client? This really irked Gible. He knew that it was probably just what the rulebook terminology for Pokémon in his position was, but something about it was downright insulting. He was a customer, here to receive Trapinch's services and nothing more, then pay up after everything was done.

Gible did intended to pay Trapinch back after receiving his help once he figured out what passed for money and then managed to get his claws on some, but that wasn't the issue. Something in him deep down felt near the same as when Mesprit was pushing him around in the dream. The anger that came from her treating him like he was nothing was starting to come back out.

No, no. Trapinch didn't mean anything by that. That's just the word he was trained to use. Was he trained? Whatever. I can't let myself be held up by something so minor like this. Just calm down, it's nothing.

Trapinch continued talking. "Well with that out of the way, anymore questions?" Gible shook his head. "Alright, I was intending to think up a plan with you, but then I realized you might not know where to start." That hurt a little bit, but Gible couldn't deny the truth to it.

Trapinch continued. "So we've gotta find some clues about your past, right? Well, when I found you last night I was in a rush to get you somewhere safe. You weren't responding and your breathing wasn't looking good, so I panicked. I didn't bother to check if anyone or anything was around still, so there could have been something there that I overlooked. If we find it, we'll be on the path to getting you back to normal!"

Gible flinched at being called not normal. He knew that not having any memories wasn't normal and Trapinch was completely correct in phrasing it that way, but it still hurt. It was the same kind of hurt he felt when Mesprit said that he needed to be fixed. He was still perfectly fine just the way he was. Getting his memories back would make him better than normal, not bring him to where he should have been.

"Alright, I guess that makes sense. Whoever or whatever did his to me must have left something behind right? Or maybe I dropped something I had on me. I suppose it would be nice at the very least to see there's some evidence of me from before today…"

But Gible still wasn't sure of the merits of this plan. His memory on mystery dungeons was fuzzy, but he still knew the basics. Mystery dungeons were constantly shifting around, that's where they got the name from. Any clues to Gible's past that might have been there were certainly gone.

"Will this even work though? I'm pretty sure mystery dungeons shift around a bunch. They named them after that and everything." Gible didn't want to bring Trapinch down, and this line of thinking certainly scared himself, but this worry would eat him up if he didn't voice his concern.

"Hey! You remember something!" Gible couldn't help but feel the slightest bit patronized from that. "But there's nothing to worry about, I found you at the end of the dungeon. The part that doesn't change. So anything you might have had on you should still be there! And also, we literally don't have any other ideas, so it's the best we have!"

Technically, by that logic it's the worst too. Once again, the cold truth of his reality outweighed anything else. It was either this or blindly wander a continent he knew nothing about. Besides, one afternoon wasted wouldn't mean much in the grand scheme of things. Gible was getting worried over nothing.

"Well then, let's head out."

"Alright! I'll grab my bag!"