Chapter 1

A Fateful Encounter

A Treecko stood in front of a boiling pot of stew. She watched as it bubbled, being careful not to burn the mixture, otherwise that would mean the ruin of tonight's dinner. The fire cooking the stew was a point of nervosity to her in the past and to an extent still was, but she'd grown used to its heat in the many times she'd cooked at it.

In the last few weeks especially, she'd become accustomed to making dinner around evening time. She had to, since the main cook in the house was out of commission.

The Treecko sighed, reminding herself of that reality once more. Her mother, a Heliolisk, should really have been the one preparing the dinner. She was an excellent cook whose meals rarely failed to be anything less than delectable. But one day, a few weeks ago, she tripped and fell awkwardly, and in the process, broke her leg.

It wasn't serious, thankfully; if it was, the leg might have had to have been amputated. But even so, a number of weeks would be required to allow the Heliolisk's leg to heal.

All the while, her daughter insisted on doing more around the house and preparing the dinners while her leg recovered. Although her mother was reluctant to let her broken leg impact her, she relented in the end.

The Treecko had to admit to the tough work that went into keeping the house clean, cooking dinners and looking after her mother, all at the same time. How the Heliolisk managed it all, she had little idea. In that sense, then, she had respect for her for being able to juggle all of the daily tasks of the house with relative ease.

But at least, the Treecko had been able to handle tonight's dinner, as she felt the cooking had reached a good point to serve it. She took two bowls and ladled the mixture into them, before bringing them to the table.

"Mom!" she called. "Dinner's ready!"

There was a distinct shuffling noise, and then the sound of wood clicking against the floor could be heard as the Treecko's mother shuffled her way into the kitchen. A Heliolisk on wooden crutches trudged into the room, a cast present on her right leg.

"Smells great," she commented, as she took her place at the table opposite her daughter. She brought the spoon to her lips and tasted the stew. "And tastes great too. Your skills are catching up to mine, Elvira."

"No...I'm not even close to your level, Mom," Elvira, the Treecko, replied. "I don't get everything right. Remember last week, when I burned the soup that morning?"

"You were distracted at the time. Besides, those are basic errors that can be corrected with experience," pardoned the Heliolisk. "When I was your age, I made my fair share of mistakes too. It's all to do with experience, Elvira. I didn't learn my cooking skills overnight."

"True, but…" Elvira sighed wistfully. "I doubt I'll ever be as good a cook as you, Mom. It's because...you have a passion for it that I don't have. Your ability just seems so far above my level that it feels impossible to get even close to it."

"Oh, don't be like that, Elvira," chided her mother. "I'm sure if you put your mind to it, you would succeed…"

"...I don't know. I don't know if that's what I really want to do in life…" the Treecko said, and a conflicted look that her mother had become all too accustomed to over the last few years came into her eyes. "...I was so sure I wanted to become a mercenary too…"

"...Whatever the path in life you choose is, Elvira, know that I will be behind you every step of the way," the Heliolisk said. But immediately, she wished she could have said something different. This was the exact same reassurance she'd given her daughter last time she'd felt this way, and the time before that. By this stage, it was becoming a stale response. Of course she would support her daughter with any career. But Elvira didn't need that; what she needed more than anything was a path to take. And right now, she didn't know what that path would be.

Life was full of unpredictable twists and turns. That was something the Heliolisk, a lady by the name of Zenobia, knew all too well. If life had gone as originally planned for her, she would not have married the one who became her husband and raised her daughter sitting before her. Sometimes the unpredictable nature of life could work in one's favour, and the Heliolisk liked to think it had worked out for her.

But it was understandable to want a clearer vision for one's life, just like Elvira wished for. To that end, she couldn't blame her daughter for moping about not knowing where to go next in life.

Especially when her lifelong ambition looks more and more like a fantasy, especially in the era our country is currently in.

"Such thoughts bear a heavy presence on the mind," Zenobia said. "Why don't you take a walk by the beach? That might help clear your head. It is a lovely evening," she commented, gazing out at the evening sun beginning to set.

"...I think I'll do that," Elvira decided. "...But will you be alright alone, Mom?"

"Oh, I'll be fine," assured the Heliolisk. "I won't be too active. I'll just be reading a book in the next room. If it'll ease your worries, I won't move from that spot until you return. I promise."

"...All right, Mom," agreed Elvira, getting up to leave. "...I'll go down there."

"Good. Just don't take too long. Evenings have a cunning way of turning to dark nights very quickly. Be home before then."

"I will, Mom," pledged the Treecko, who then left the house, shutting the door behind her.

Once she was gone, Zenobia rose, and picked up her crutches. She made her way to the living room and into a chair, in front of which was a footstool. She sat down, and picked up a book entitled Selenia: The History of Ruslan's Domain, and picked up where she had left off before dinner.

But she didn't get too far into her book before the thoughts inside her head proved too great a distraction. With a sigh, the Heliolisk put the book down and gazed over at the side table beside her.

There stood a small painting of a Sceptile wearing a blue and green scarf around his neck.

Zenobia gazed at it wistfully.

"...If only Elvira could find a way forward…" she murmured. "I don't think she's truly gotten over the tragedy of your disappearance. If you were still here, no doubt she'd follow in your footsteps. I only wish I could be a greater source of encouragement for her." She took the portrait into her hands.

"...I'm sorry, Kallias."


Elvira made her way to the beach. Her house was located a stone's throw from the sea, and there was an idyllic beach in the place nearest to the sea. While not a large beach, it still made a good place to walk on and sheltered enough to go for a swim, if that was what was desired. As Elvira made her way onto it, she gazed at the sea in awe of the sight.

No matter how many times I come here, I never get used to this view, the Treecko thought to herself. The setting sun made for an impressive backdrop, colouring the sky with a mixture of different colours, from orange to red to blue to pink. Not to mention, the sound of waves crashing against the shore helped to calm Elvira. It never failed to do that. Seeing this place brought back happy memories from her childhood, of her and her parents frolicking on the sands. Once, she recalled that the sound of the waves had been so soothing a noise that she'd fallen asleep, and had to be carried back to the house by her father.

A shame that's all in the past now, Elvira thought to herself. She could still remember the voice of her father through memories on this beach, and the encouraging words he would say to her to bring joy into her life.

"You're getting quite good at Outlaw and Mercenary, Elvira. At this rate, you might end up matching my speed when you get older."

"...Were you holding back, Dad? I could sense you weren't going as fast as you normally were."

"...You're sharp. How did you guess that?"

"It was obvious, Dad! Anyone would be able to see that you weren't going as fast as you can go! I've seen you go much faster than that!"

"...Well, the Torracat's out of the bag now. I admit to you; yes, I was holding back my speed for you. But look at it this way; it's good to detect when someone's holding back. In the world of the mercenary, not all enemies will be the same. Some are heartless and evil, but others will hold back, as if their hearts aren't truly in what they're doing. You might be able to perceive whether someone truly wishes to be a criminal. They might well have a motive for stealing from others."

"But...I don't get it. Stealing's bad, isn't it?"

"Of course it is, Elvira. And some do it out of spite or selfishness. But others don't have a choice. If they're really poor, they won't be able to afford even the cheapest food on the market. And therefore, if they want to feed themselves, they have to resort to stealing food, whether they like it or not. This world, when it comes to outlaws and criminals, isn't black and white, nor is it simple. Of course, stealing is wrong, and should not be done. But...in the future, try to put yourself in the mindset of someone who you feel isn't completely unreasonable. Some outlaws can be reasoned with, and brought back to their senses."

"...Okay….I think I get it. So not all outlaws are bad people?"

"...Something like that. Mind you, a good amount can't be reasoned with. But...some can be. The world of the mercenary isn't a simple place of black and white. If you must remember anything about being a mercenary, keep that in mind."

He was so kind, Elvira thought to herself. ...Oh, why, Dad? Why did you have to leave us so soon? If only that day hadn't happened...if only you didn't have that top secret mission...then you'd still be with us. Why...just why…?

Shaking her head to rid herself of more recent tragic events, the Treecko walked down the shoreline, taking in the air and the splashing of waves. They helped to calm her down, and bring her head more in line with thoughts of today. Specifically, to tackle a question that had been plaguing her mind for the past few years.

Her path forward.

It was a topic that in recent times, Elvira had been reluctant to touch upon, for the simple reason that she didn't have an answer.

For years, she had idolised her father's work as a mercenary, bringing hope and happiness to the people of Selenia, working for the guild in the country's capital city, Iria. He had many stories over the years to tell his daughter and she would absorb all he told her like a sponge. One day, she had hoped she too would have a regale of tales to tell to those she loved, just like her father. And so, for that reason, she aspired to follow in her father's footsteps and be a mercenary like him. She had hoped to join up with the Guild and do what her father did, righting wrongs, rescuing people and catching dastardly outlaws.

But then that day came along five years ago, and suddenly Elvira found her surety towards becoming a mercenary wavering more and more by the day. That day highlighted something stark to her; just how dangerous a job being a mercenary could be. If the goodwill of a mercenary's work drew the ire of the wrong sorts of people, then that could put her life, as well as the lives of those she loved, on the line. And so the question of 'Do I really want to do this?' played over and over in her head since that day. And with increasing doubt in her heart, Elvira's dream of becoming a mercenary began to wilt.

Part of herself was convinced that her aspirations to become a mercenary were too lofty anyway, as the aspirations of a child usually were. Children only tended to see the upsides to a profession, and especially for Elvira, she'd revered her father's heroism and wanted to become a hero herself. Now though, with age and experience, she could see for herself the downsides of her dream, the realities of being a mercenary that she wouldn't have seen when she was younger.

She didn't think the dream had died out, though. Part of her still wanted to become a mercenary, and help those in need. It was certainly still possible to become one, even given happenings in recent years. It was a noble line of work, and surely she would be recognised through her familial ties with her father. That could be a way to make connections and break new social boundaries beyond her fairly quiet social circle.

But then, if she did become a mercenary, people would expect her to be as skilled as her father, and thus expectations would develop, with endless comparisons being made between her aptitude and her father's when he was at her skill level. That, Elvira didn't want to happen. She was still a beginner fighter, and still a Treecko, at that. It would be a long while before she even got close to the capability of her father. Adding to that fact was that she wasn't even evolved by this stage in her life, when evolution usually called for Treecko like her. She should've been a Grovyle by now, but...the reasons for this not happening owed themselves to current ongoing problems that were epidemic throughout the continent of Ardalion.

Pokémon, for some reason, had stopped evolving in the last few years, and no one could figure out why this was so. The process that had occurred in many species of Pokémon since time immemorial, one day, suddenly became static. It took everyone a while to realise this was happening, and when it began to be noticed, a degree of panic took hold among some Pokémon. Worse still, no one could find an explanation for why this was happening all of a sudden. After some time, people got used to it, but even so, it remained a source of irritation for those that were due to evolve or were still to evolve, and a source of worry. What if this problem did not right itself? Would evolution simply cease to happen altogether, and be spoken of in future as a happening of the past?

The cessation of evolution wasn't the only worrying development that had come over Ardalion in the past few years. Along with that, there had been a peculiar and unexplained sudden rise in natural disasters and extreme weather events. Overall, throughout Ardalion, it was observed that the number of earthquakes and volcanic eruptions had risen exponentially in the regions that typically experienced such events. But this was cause for worry, for events like these were normally rare and had suddenly and without explanation become much more frequent in the past few years. Also cause for worry was the worsening of droughts in the deserts of Alba, and the subsequent evaporation of a number of rivers, lakes and oases had brought hardship upon the people who lived there. Even in Selenia, it was noted that the storms that usually came in from the west coast around the latter half of the year had become more violent, and this in turn caused more washouts, landslides, and floods. Again, this was something everyone found hard to answer, and even the wisest in society could not give a proper answer to this mystery.

Something had gone wrong with the world. That was what most people said when these topics were brought up, Elvira and Zenobia included. It seemed like a simple explanation of what was going on.

But if so, then what had gone wrong with the world? Was it something to do with the land? Had a Legendary Pokémon's power gone awry and subjected Ardalion to these strange conditions? Or was it all just the workings of a devious Legendary Pokémon? Some conspiracy theorists had raised the idea, one that was still in circulation, that the deity of nightmares, Darkrai, had trapped everyone in a nightmare where the state of Ardalion's climate would progressively get worse. But there was no definite proof to confirm such claims. Alas, at this point in time, no concrete explanations for these mysteries surfaced, and so in their places filled guesses and conspiracy theories.

Elvira was wondering about all of this as she strolled along the beach. And unfortunately, it meant that she wasn't paying attention to the path in front of her.

Therefore, the Treecko was taken rudely out of her thoughts when she tripped over something and fell face-first into the sand. Worse still, it was as the waves flowed in, and she received a mouthful of swash as her face made contact with the soft sand.

"Urgh!" Elvira gagged, spitting out the salt water and sand. "What did I just trip over?" She turned around to look.

And what she saw made her eyes widen in shock.

She hadn't tripped over something.

She'd tripped over someone.

Laying on the shores of the beach, next to some seaweed and shells, was the body of a blue and black furred canine Pokémon.

"...What…? A Riolu?" Elvira uttered, hardly believing what she was seeing. Is it...alive? She went over to check the Pokémon, and listened for breathing. She need not have worried, however; the Riolu was most definitely breathing. However, it was also passed out, and unresponsive.

"Hey, um...wake up," the Treecko urged, admittedly somewhat lamely. "...Wake up!" She gripped the Pokémon's sides and shook it, trying to wake it up. Unfortunately, this amounted to nothing, and the Riolu was still as unconscious as it had been before.

"Oh no...What am I going to do?" Elvira panicked. "What if this Riolu needs medical attention? I don't see any injuries...but it'd be best if I brought them back to the house. Yeah, that would be best. ...Riolu!" she informed the unconscious Pokémon, disregarding the fact that they probably could not hear her. "I'm gonna bring you back to my place! We'll patch you up there!"

No response. The Riolu remained inactive.

Elvira leaned down and tried to pick up the Riolu. However, the Fighting-type was taller and heavier than her, and soon that option proved fruitless. She therefore had to resort to dragging the Pokémon behind her. It was unceremonious and inefficient, but it was the best Elvira could do, given the circumstances. She could wait and find someone to help her, but…

That's not something I'd rather do. The sooner this Riolu gets medical attention, the better.

And so Elvira continued back to her home. All the while, her mind was ablaze with thoughts.

How in the world did this Riolu wash up on the shore? Where did they come from? Do they have loved ones? If so, where are they? Just...what happened to this Riolu before it came here?

These questions were a flurry in the young Treecko's mind as she neared her house, with the Riolu in tow.