Just a couple of things before the chapter. Try to ignore any inconsistencies between the first chapter and this one. It's been a while, I don't quite remember how the first chapter went, and it took long enough to write this one without going back and rewriting every time something was inconsistent. No, it didn't actually take nearly three years to write, but it went slowly enough.
Also, if you haven't already, check out Seven and Counting by TehSammichMan. It's a great read and the major inspiration for this.
The hike back to Matthew's camp was relatively short, but after a long day of hiking and running around, even with all the thoughts bouncing around in his skull it went by exhaustingly slow. He was lucky to have Bolt with him; his sense of direction was like a dull knife in comparison to the Boltund's. His tired imagination was too busy coming up with scenarios of strangely dressed criminals jumping out of the bushes and hauling him away to do much looking where he was going anyway.
What did this group want with a regular Pokémon anyway? Well, if it was a regular Pokémon - it might be some crazy legendary, like from the old fairy tales that turned out to be true. A lot of people said that's what happened several years ago, that Chairman Rose caused that massive power storm by releasing the pokemon that caused the "darkest day" thousands of years ago. Matthew wasn't so sure. No one had been able to get a clear video showing the supposed pokemon in the storm, and there were plenty of other plausible theories. It was most likely just some freak chance of a Dynamax power spot going haywire.
Matthew instinctively reached for his Pokedex - a gift from his brother Mark, before he joined the police force - to scan the Zorua, and realized he had dropped all his things when the Ninetales had begun talking to him. He groaned. He'd have to go back in the morning to collect them again. His Rotom phone didn't have the upgrade that would give it the same capabilities as a pokédex either, even though he kept telling himself he would go upgrade it soon. And now it wasn't like he could just go into town if there was a criminal gang around looking for him. Well, they were looking for the Zorua, but what if they had Pokémon that could detect the scent of Zorua off him?
He glanced down, frowning. The baby Zorua was fast asleep, breathing lightly. It felt almost frail, like holding a shoddy toothpick sculpture.
"You're more trouble than you're worth, you know that?"
There was no reply, obviously. Matthew sighed and looked ahead again. He could see now the glowing remnants of his campfire through the dense midnight fog. He groaned as the clearing came into view. The pot was laying on its side. Whatever half-cooked curry not in a pool on the ground was long cold, and it looked like the stand for the pot was broken too. Perfect. And he couldn't just go back into town for a new one. By some stroke of luck, he had the food bag out when that girl stole his pack. There was enough food for nearly a week in there, and Bard - a Dewpider he had caught in the wild area not too long ago - could produce plenty of water for everything they needed. Matthew grabbed the food bag and put it in his tent. He was too exhausted to try cooking anything right now, not to mention he also had to get together some sort of stand for the cooking pot too. He'd figure it out in the morning, he decided.
Just as he recalled Bolt, he felt the Zorua stirring in his arms. It was waking up now? Within seconds, it was already crying at the top of its lungs. What was he supposed to do with it? Matthew had no experience with baby Pokémon. Did it want food? He tipped the pot by the now burned-out fire upright. The half-cooked curry would have to do. He carefully tipped some from the ladle into the Zoruas mouth, but it only spit the food out immediately and began wailing louder. Okay, water then? He grabbed a bottle from the cup holder of his camp chair. The Zorua didn't refuse the water, but went right back to crying after just a couple of mouthfuls. Matthew grimaced. Maybe he had something on his rotom phone that could help him. He reached into his pocket and opened it to Mackenzie's contact information. Ha, of course! If anyone knew how to take care of a newborn Pokémon, it would be Mackenzie. He hit dial and put the phone to his ear.
Matthew let out a deep sigh he felt he had been holding for the past few minutes. The Zorua was finally fed and asleep.
"Thanks," he muttered, "I thought it'd never stop crying."
"Yeah, well. You owe me. At least you didn't call right before midnight." Mackenzie stood up, her light-hearted grin turning into a frown. Without looking away from the Zorua in the small pile of blankets, she spoke to Matthew. "Zorua aren't actually allowed into Galar unless you have a special license or an Armor Pass, and you don't seem like someone rich enough to afford that. How did you come across her?"
It sounded like she thought she already knew the answer. Matthew hesitated, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. He only called Mackenzie for advice on how to take care of the Zorua, but she had been so insistent on coming all the way out to 'do it properly' - alongside some scoffing about men that Matthew was certain he wasn't supposed to hear that it was all he could do to just get her to tell him what to do in the meantime. He was starting to wonder if he should have been more insistent that she didn't come.
"I-uh…" The Ninetales came to mind. What would it do if it found out that he hadn't done what it said?
"I just… found it in the forest." Not a complete lie, but he somehow managed to make it sound every bit one.
Mackenzie turned towards him, eyes set. "Oh really? So she just swam over here from Kalos? Or, I suppose it's more likely she floated over in her egg – she's barely a day old." She nodded along as if this were somehow plausible, "Oh, but then she would have to somehow get to the middle of Galar from there, then. You know, traveling hundreds of miles, avoiding predators, all in less than a day after she was hatched. Sounds pretty likely to me."
"Well, I think, uh… maybe it… um, it just… I can't tell you where it came from." Matthew immediately regretted saying that. 'Idiot!' he berated himself furiously. 'Why didn't I just say someone abandoned it or something like that?' Now Mackenzie definitely knew something was up.
Mackenzie only raised an eyebrow. "Fine then," she said, pulling out her Rotom phone. "I'll just call the cops. They'll be able to figure it out." The phone quickly buzzed out and hovered in front of her face.
Matthew stood in shock for a moment. What, did she think he was a poacher or something? Was she really willing to call the cops on just the suspicion he was up to something illegal? Mackenzie began typing the number in, showing no signs of stopping. A chill ran down Matthew's spine. There was no way he could run from the cops. He had to do something.
"You can't!" Matthew wrenched himself out of indecision and snatched the phone out of the air and held it out of Mackenzie's reach, his height giving him just enough advantage.
Mackenzie reacted instantly, pulling out two Pokéballs. One materialized into a Kirlia behind her, the normal green of the Pokémon replaced with a light blue color. Matthew barely noticed, as he was currently being stared down with what looked like an intent to kill. The height he had on Mackenzie seemed to melt away under that glare.
"Give me one reason," she warned, keeping the other unopened Pokéball trained on Matthew, "Give me one reason, and you get to feel what it's like to have a Tyranitar sitting on your chest for an hour. I'll make sure it's more than a bit uncomfortable."
Matthew believed her. He froze like a Stantler in the headlights, arm suspended above his head, the blood draining from his face. The phone slipped out of his hand the second he loosened his grip and flew back to Mackenzie's pocket, but she kept the Pokéball pointed at him.
"Morna, ready. And you," she narrowed her eyes, never looking away from Matthew. "if you have a good explanation, you better tell it right quick, or you'll find out what happens to poachers just as fast."
'There's no way out of this,' Matthew thought. Tell the truth and risk angering the Ninetales, or get arrested. Just because something stole his backpack. Matthew groaned internally. Why him? He just wanted away from his overbearing dad, not caught up in the schemes of some crazy criminal organization. Mark had ended up under the little maple tree next to his mom that way. Matthew didn't dwell on it. He couldn't stay silent forever; Mackenzie was already gesturing for him to hurry up. If he didn't have a choice, then…
He began explaining, as quickly as he could; getting his bag stolen by some shadowy figure, chasing the thief, stumbling across the Ninetales. As he described the Pokémon, with its unusual size and bright fur, Mackenzie's eyes widened in surprise. He continued, elaborating on what the Ninetales wanted him to do, and what it warned him of. As he explained, the feeling that he wasn't remembering everything kept nagging at him. By the end of his spiel, Mackenzie looked more like she was reading a book rather than about to throw it. She spared a glance toward the Kirlia next to her.
"Morna?" The Pokémon paused for a moment, then nodded. Matthew wasn't sure what that meant. Hopefully good. Mackenzie leveled her gaze back at him.
"Well, Morna seems to think you're telling the truth." She sighed and clipped the Pokeball back onto her belt. She almost sounded disappointed. Matthew, however, was confused.
"How does it-"
"She." Mackenzie reminded.
"-er… she know?"
"Have you never heard of the Ralts line?" Mackenzie frowned, gesturing toward the Kirlia, continuing when Matthew nodded. "They can sense emotions through their horns. Morna here is one of the best in the region."
Matthew contemplated that for a second. "So, you believe me?" He shook his head. "I wouldn't."
"Oh, I believe that you believe it. But still, stranger things have happened. Especially since that "Darkest Day" thing a while back. You just need to pay attention enough to see it." Mackenzie chewed her nails, then yanked them away as if they burned her.
"Whoah, whoah. What's any of this got to do with the 'Darkest Day'?"
"I don't know. Yet. Right now though, I need to get some sleep." She reached behind her back, searching for something that wasn't there.
"Damn. I forgot I didn't bring my pack." She looked around the clearing. "I'll need your tent for tonight. I'll get my stuff in the morning."
Matthew stared in confusion for a second before realizing what she was saying.
"Wha- hey! You can't just kick me out of my own tent!" Mackenzie was already walking toward his tent, unfazed by his objections.
"I said you owe me." She wore a mocking grin now, the closest to a smile he'd seen from her so far. "Besides, you'd really just abandon a defenseless girl to the wilderness?"
"Hardly defenseless," Matthew muttered under his breath. He just couldn't win with her.
Brook flitted in and out of consciousness. Her thoughts were usually her only indicator when she was; she couldn't force her eyes open no matter how hard she tried. Her arms and legs were just as immovable, and even her ears felt blocked off, somehow. Even once she realized she was aware, it never lasted long. Her calls for help - silent to her ears, and as far as she was aware, to anyone or thing around her - went unanswered until they were interrupted by the most powerful sensation of hunger she'd ever felt. At least until the next time she became awoke again. She never knew what happened in between; the hunger was so great it dominated her recollections, and she never had time to consider it in her brief periods of awareness before a new bout of hunger set in anyway. The most she could remember was the lingering flavor of some disgustingly bland-sweet food.
Too many times, it felt so similar to that… place that she couldn't hold it back anymore and just cried into the silence. A couple of times, she woke to something poking and prodding her. The second time, she managed to bite something as hard as she could - though, gum was a more appropriate term. Arceus, what did that Ninetales do to her? The next few times she came to, her jaw ached, but there was nothing jabbing her. She hoped that thing was hurting just as badly.
Brook quickly lost track of how many times she repeated the pattern. Wake up, hunger, fall asleep. Again and again and again. When she could, she wondered if this was what the punishment from the Ninetales was - unable to see or hear anything, constantly hungry, at the complete mercy of whatever entity was out there, constantly in a cycle of unawareness and hunger. She wondered if it would ever end, if she would ever get back to her own life; it wasn't great, but certainly, it was better than this. Yet, the pattern continued - until, inexplicably, it didn't.
Brook woke again. The incredible hunger had finally abated and for the first time, her eyes opened with her awakening. Caught in temporary disbelief, she only stared at the few rays of light filtering down through unusually tall trees for several seconds. Despite the thick cover of branches, she could tell it was roughly midday based on what she could see of the sun's position, though it still felt wonderfully cool out. A smile slowly worked its way onto her face. She was free! She let out a sudden laugh, and in a second, her elation disappeared. That didn't sound anything like her laugh. In fact, it didn't even sound like a human had made that sound. Struggling to get up, she realized that she was still bound by something wrapping around her entirely and it wasn't coming loose anytime soon. She heard some movement to her left. Something getting up. Steps. She wasn't alone. That strange noise she had made, and all the struggling she was doing had alerted someone or something over there, and now it was coming over here and she was stuck and it was happening all over again and –
Brook stopped and tried to steady her breathing. Step. She felt like she was in a daze. Step. Maybe whatever it was would just go away if she stopped making noise, but the desire to run was beginning to overwhelm her. Step. She forced her eyes shut, not knowing how much longer she could keep sitting there silently, waiting while that thing only got closer. Step. A small whimper escaped her, and tears squeezed past her eyelids and down the side of her face. The steps stopped, and the thing, now kneeling beside where she was laying down, leaned over her.
"Oh, she's frightened." Brook knew that voice. "Don't you worry cutie, you're safe with me."
The thing binding her unwrapped form around her. Brook cautiously opened her eyes, only to have her breath catch.
"Olivia?" Brook tried to ask – all that came out were a couple of squeaks. She could easily recognize her cousin's face, despite the clear attempt to obscure familiarity through makeup and hair dye. They had been raised practically as sisters – it would take more than that to fool her. Fear ebbed away, only to be replaced with confusion and questions as she stared at Mackenzie. What was she doing here? She must have followed her. Why did she follow her? Why was she so HUGE? She looked like she could easily be three times her height, but that should be impossible!
"Aw, your eyes are open! Alright, c'mere you cutie." Olivia suddenly had both hands wrapped around Brook's midsection. "I just need to give you a little bit of a check-up."
The sudden sensation of being physically handled and picked up was weirdly familiar, but Brook still didn't like it one bit, and she tried to struggle out of Olivia's iron grip. It wasn't even a fight – besides still being dazed from the confusion, it felt like Brook's body was a sheet that got twisted in the wash; some things moved in what felt like the wrong direction, and muscles she never knew she had moved things that didn't feel like a part of her. The clothes she was wearing felt oddly… attached, but that could have something to do with the same reason as why she felt like she had been asleep for a month. Olivia quickly held her close to her chest like a baby Yamper.
"Hey, hey, hey, it's alright. You're ok." Olivia looked down at her with a bright, closed smile. As weird and almost embarrassing as the position was, it was oddly comforting, and the feeling of being a tangled slinky quickly faded. Brook still didn't know why any of this was happening, though. As she tried to figure it out, a faint memory flickered through her head, and a thought came to mind. Was Mackenzie really suddenly a giant, or…
Brook held a hand in fro- it wasn't a hand. A small red paw. That wasn't right. Why wasn't it a hand? The memory it had to be just a really long dream began to come back stronger. The Ninetales. The curse. The pain not a dream. She tried shutting her eyes maybe it will go away if I don't look at it, but her body wouldn't obey, continuing to stare at the little red paw your paw. Dimly she was aware of Olivia moving, still holding Brook in her arms, and several voices muddling together. The pieces began to come together, no matter how Brook resisted. The feeling that her limbs moved wrong a different body. Strange-feeling clothing fur.New-found muscles for ears, and… a tail… It was all a blazing carnival sign pointed to something that, despite her efforts, she couldn't keep from admitting any longer.
I'm not human anymore.
A wry smile came unbidden. Ironic, isn't it? You wanted to get away from your life, now you couldn't possibly be farther away. Pain suddenly gripped her throat until she felt like she couldn't breathe. The smile slid from her face. It was just so- so unfair, after all her work to free herself, that she would come so close only for it to slip through her grasp by no fault of her own! Her breath came in gasps, eyes pricking with held-back tears. She hated that stupid Ninetales! How could it do that to her? Didn't she already have it tough enough? She took a shaky breath and gritted her teeth. She wouldn't cry. No, this was just one more thing to work through, even if she had no idea how to. She snorted derisively.
'As if I've ever really known what I've been doing.' It wasn't entirely true. Getting out of that facility had taken a lot of planning. She just had to observe and act. That would have to be her plan now.
As the pain ebbed away and Brook become more aware of her surroundings, she realized she was near a campfire, and a pleasant smell wafted around her. On que, she realized she was starving. She tried to lift her head up to look for the source of the smell, but something blocked her head from moving. As she pushed against it, it suddenly gave way and her head popped out of Olivia's lap. Right, she almost forgot she was now tiny compared to her. She used to be just a half-inch taller and would hold it over her constantly. Figuratively, of course, half an inch wasn't that much. Like clockwork, that always led to Olivia lauding being born just seconds before her, not that it actually made any physical difference who was born first, and besides –
Brook shook herself from the old, ingrained arguments. It at least showed that the Ninetales had left her with her memories intact, but now wasn't the time to be going through them to make sure. She needed a grasp on her situation. And food. Food first. She realized Olivia had started talking several seconds ago. She would know about food. She always loved caring for any random Pokémon that she came across, and somehow knew exactly what kind of berry it liked.
"-at all for several days, then overnight she grows teeth? Newborn Pokémon like Zorua usually need a week for their teeth to fully grow in. She's far from a normal Pokémon." Olivia seemed a bit cross. That was normal.
Wait, was she talking about her? A Zorua would make sense, according to the red paw she had, at least. She had seen a Zorua, once, at some sort of business party her father dragged her to. At least they were cute – she could have ended up as a Rolycoly, or worse, a bug type. Brook shivered. Bug types were creepy, and she couldn't stand - Did Oliva say newborn? Great, just what she needed on top of being a Pokémon, a one-way ticket back to infancy! No wonder she felt so weak. She probably wouldn't last more than a few hours on her own. She wondered if that was part of the Ninetale's sick plan, maybe so she could watch from afar and laugh at her.
Some voice Brook didn't recognize replied to Olivia from across the fire. "Look, I don't know anything about newborn Pokémon. I told you, a Ninetales made me take care of it."
'I'm going to give that Ninetales a piece of my mind when I find her again.' Cursing her like this, then passing her along as if she were just some item to be… well, passed along… she would think of something better before she found the Ninetales. Remembering the feeling of incredible power that came from the Ninetales and the excruciating pain of the transformation, Brook decided playing it safe instead was probably for the better.
"For all I know, it's someone it cursed into a Pokémon." Brook nearly jerked at that, but something held her still. Probably one of Mackenzie's massive hands. She was able to turn around unobstructed, though, to look at the mystery person, observing her surroundings as she did. She was in a small clearing – just large enough for a spot for a few people to sit, after a campfire and a couple of tents. Several Pokémon sat around the fire or near the edge of the clearing on top of giant mushrooms scattered around near the forest edge. OK, so she was still in the Glimwood tangle. Although, she wasn't sure what else to expect. Sitting near the fire aimlessly picking at the remains of a meal was – Brook blinked in surprise. Was that the kid she had taken that bag from? He didn't look as much a kid in the daylight; a dark shadow of a beard decorated his darker skin, and his face looked gaunt, dark circles highlighting eyes that didn't seem to see what was in front of them. There was one way she could be certain, though. She checked the Pokémon scattered around the clearing and sure enough, a rather lanky Boltund immediately stood out. He sat on top of the largest mushroom on the edge of the clearing like the leader of a Pyroar pride looking over his kingdom, casually assessing her.
"Please, that old myth has been proven false a hundred times. There's gotta be some logical reason for it." Brook's face contorted into a confused frown – or whatever the Zorua equivalent was. That wasn't like Olivia at all – she had always been the one to convince Brook of strange magical occurrences and old myths, and now she was rejecting it when it was right in front of her? Had she really changed that much in – Brook suddenly realized she had no idea how long she had been trapped in the underground facility before she managed to escape. How old was she now? Or rather, considering her condition, how old was Olivia? Brook shook her head. It was just another thing she would have to figure out later, and Olivia had finally just noticed she was up and looking around.
"Hey, there you are! Feeling better, cutie?" Brook grimaced at the baby talk, but there was nothing she could do about it. The humiliating speech every time she came across a helpless Pokémon was an unchangeable part of Olivia. It would go away once she was able to tell Olivia who she was. Maybe. On second thought, telling Olivia now when she was pretty much a helpless Pokémon herself would more likely only increase the baby talk and make it more mocking than adoring. Telling Olivia could wait, then. Right now, Brook had to figure out how to get Olivia to get her some food. She tried to point toward the cookpot that emanated the delicious smell, but only managed to paw at it. She didn't bother attempting to say anything – even if she could produce anything other than squeaks from her weak vocal cords, Olivia would only hear gibberish. Brook wasn't sure why that was, but then, no one had ever been able to figure it out. Pokémon seemed to understand each other just fine, but to humans, it just sounded like they were saying a single word – a different one for each species and for their evolutions – or various combinations of the syllables that made it up. Naturally, those words became what humans would call each species of Pokémon. Olivia seemed to get the gist anyway, looking over in the direction Brook indicated.
"Hungry again, huh?" Olivia grinned. "I'm surprised you aren't round as a Jigglypuff with as much as you've been eating."
Brook automatically began searching for a scathing comeback before she remembered she wouldn't be able to communicate it to Mackenzie. She settled for a glare instead. A sigh came from across the campfire, then the sound of that tired-looking guy standing up.
"I'll go get the formula." Formula? Brook faintly recalled the disgustingly bland-sweet taste of the paste she was force-fed when she was… well, incapacitated was about as good a word as any other. Now she had a choice, though, and there was no way she was going to eat that glue-like substance. She shook her head and tried pawing toward the cooking pot again, but Olivia was too busy lecturing the other person on how to make the formula – he had heard it plenty before, from the exasperated replies he was giving her – to notice. Well, Brook wasn't going to sit around patiently until they were done and already stuffing it in her mouth. She slowly stood up, trying to remember how all the four-legged Pokémon she'd seen did it, and precariously balanced on Olivia's lap. Peering over the edge of the chair, her stomach tightened, and she wondered if it was worth risking a bad fall just to avoid a little bad-tasting food. Sure, it was maybe two feet up, but that was her whole height, and she didn't even know how to move properly in this body yet! It was definitely on the higher end of two feet. She could break something if she fell from a height equal to hers, right? She was certain she heard that somewhere. Her original guess was wrong entirely, she was more like four feet up, it definitely wasn't worth it after all.
Just as she came to that conclusion and began to back away from the edge, Olivia suddenly shifted and sent her tumbling off, letting out a yelp as she hit the ground and… she was fine. She could've laughed with relief if Olivia wasn't already picking her up again, apologizing profusely. Brook squeaked in angry protest but couldn't stop Olivia from looking over her entirely for injuries. It was all ridiculous – even if Brook had just been worrying about the same thing less than a minute ago. She swatted at Olivia's probing hand until she finally relented. She was still holding her in place though, and paying attention now. The other person was already ladling the finished formula into an empty baby bottle. Nu-uh, no way was she drinking that nasty stuff, much less out of that. She began trying to break out of Olivia's grasp, but she might as well have been pushing against a Snorlax.
"Hold still, you. You may not like it, but this stuff really is good for you." Mackenzie deftly kept hold of Brook with one hand while holding the bottle in the other.
Surprising herself, Brook desperately lunged for the first finger she spotted, teeth searching for flesh – but Olivia was too quick, and Brook clamped down on soft rubber instead. Some instinct she never had before betrayed her, and to her chagrin, she began sucking on the pap instead of spitting it out. Brook's face heated, and not just from embarrassment. Damn that Ninetales! Olivia too, for that matter. And that guy, just for good measure.
"None of that, young lady." Olivia's frown from behind the bottle met Brook's red-faced glare. At least, her face would've been red, if she were still human. Maybe it was anyway, under all the fur.
'She'll get hers eventually, I'll make sure of that.' She remembered from that party that Zorua are very good at making illusions. It was only a matter of time before she figured them out and got her payback.
"And… done!" Olivia's exclamation shocked Brook out of her ruminations of revenge. She hadn't even noticed how quickly she was draining the bottle.
"There, was that so bad?" Brook's glare should've told Olivia exactly how bad it was, but she just seemed to look right past it. However disgusting it was, though, Brook had to admit she was feeling a lot better - better than just a full stomach. She felt far stronger than she had when she first woke up. What was in that formula?
"Now," Olivia stood up, still holding Brook. She was beginning to get sick of all the manhandling. "I need to go get some stuff from my apartment. Bolt!" The Boltund hopped off his perch and happily trotted over. "I need you to watch her while I'm gone. Just make sure she stays in the clearing." Olivia made a few gestures to emphasize the point, then glanced at the guy, who had somehow managed to fall asleep in his chair in less than a minute. Brook heard something along the lines of 'lazy bastard', but Olivia didn't go wake him up. Instead, she just turned and crossed through the trees, quickly disappearing into the dark and foggy depths of Glimwood.