Thirty-seven followers? You guys are amazing!

Not much has been going on for me the last couple of days; I've just been hanging around our house during quarantine, writing current chapters and outlining future chapters. I'm very happy to post it today, on one of the most beautiful days I've ever been witness to.

Enjoy, and reviews are very much appreciated.

BRADLEY CLARION

I was feeling more exhausted and terrified than ever, my head throbbed with every step, and every beat of my heart felt more powerful than it should have been, but I wasn't going to give up.

As I steeled myself for the trek ahead, I couldn't help but groan at the prospect. I was determined to get through it, but I wasn't going to enjoy it at all.

After we had all refilled our water bottles and gotten back onto the trail, we walked for about another thirty minutes. It was then that I came across a peculiar plant that I had never seen before.

This plant was made up of yellow and green stalks towering twenty feet or more off the ground. There were a few leaves on them, but for the most part, they were rather bare.

"We have arrived in the Bamboo Patch," Matt told us. He was now at the front of the line, having swapped places with his twin brother. Today, he was wearing a blue shirt, while Mike was wearing a red one. I very much appreciated that the Chelan twins were making an effort to ensure that we knew which brother was which.

The six of us apart from the guides all gaped at these exotic stalks. Much like with the starry sky last night, it distracted me, even if only for a couple minutes, from the fact that I was still feeling very sick from the infection in my arm.

Eventually, Matt said, "The Bamboo Patch is an important landmark, because it marks halfway between the trailhead and the temple. We've been setting a pretty good time, believe it or not".

Hopefully that makes them less angry about my little detour yesterday, I thought to myself. I did not regret helping Jacob out, but the fact remained that had I not done that, I wouldn't be in the state I was in.

After a few cheers from the other men, we kept moving.

With every step, my duffel bag felt a little bit heavier on my back, as though a pair of dice were being placed in it every time I put one foot in front of the other. In other words, the difference was so slight between each individual step that you hardly notice it, and yet it all adds up.

At one point, I thought I saw a white blur in the distance. It might have been a reflection of the sun on the water or something like that, but I could have sworn it was Jacob.

If so, what is he doing out here? This is no place for an Alolan Vulpix!

The blur seemed to be sitting on a rock in the middle of the river. Then, a few seconds later, it leaped off the log and into the water, beginning to swim towards the river's edge.

I think that's just the shimmer of the sun on the water, Bradley, I told myself. The only thing you should be worried about is the fact that you might be hallucinating.

The hours dragged onwards. They say that time is a valuable thing, and that you watch it fly by as the pendulum swings, but this time certainly didn't fly by. By the time Matt called a water break at a time that he claimed was two hours after the Bamboo Patch, I was convinced that we'd been walking for twice that long.

Mercifully, he allowed us to sit down for this one, which was a big relief. But it was a double-edged sword, because I knew that if I sat down, I would have to stand up again once we were done with the water break.

This task wouldn't normally be too difficult, but with a duffel bag and in my current, weakened state, it was akin to running a marathon. As I took a few sips from the Phoenix River water that had been purified with bleach (which tastes almost like fire, not that fire's something I've tasted before), I felt the sweat rolling down my face and staining my shirt, and dreaded the moment when I'd have to get back to my feet.

When the time came, I put the duffel bag's straps around my shoulders, grabbed onto a nearby tree to steady myself, and slowly pulled myself into a wobbly stance. I looked around and saw that Matt and Mike, as well as my father, all looked very concerned.

"Are you sure you're alright, Bradley?" my father asked me for the trillionth time. I was so caught up in the task of balancing that I barely heard him.

"Yeah, I'm fine" I replied. "A little dizzy, that's all".

Dr. Saint Lawrence came up to me. "Do you want us to take your temperature before we keep going? Or should we wait until lunchtime to stop?"

I shook my head. "I think I can wait until lunchtime to stop".

Another thought which entered my mind, which I didn't voice out loud, was the following: What exactly do I gain from knowing what my precise temperature is? I'm reasonably certain I have a fever; let's just leave it at that.

This was probably how Dr. Saint Lawrence saw it as well, because he didn't argue with me.

"You'll take your first dose of antibiotics during lunch. Fortunately, we also have probiotics that you can take, which should help to mitigate any side effects that the antibiotics may have".

Oh great. Side effects...I've got that to worry about too.

Of course, assuming that the antibiotics worked in the first place, side effects were a small price to pay; at least, that's how I saw it. No side effects, in my view, could be worse than what I was currently experiencing.

After another round of reassurances to everyone that I was okay, not having any trouble keeping my balance, etc., the trek resumed.

The taste of bleach water lingered in my mouth. To those who have never tasted it before, count yourselves lucky; it's one of the worst things I've ever had in terms of taste, and, were it not for my life depending on it, I would gladly have passed up the chance to experience it.

Since it tasted so disgusting and seemed to lightly burn my tongue and the edges of my mouth, I almost felt like throwing it up. My stomach certainly felt rather upset, but I knew that all I would accomplish by puking would be losing more bodily fluids that I couldn't afford to lose.

It was another two hours of hiking before we stopped for lunch. During that time, I heard several different types of wild bird Pokemon chirping in the trees, but I didn't pay them any mind, nor did I even make an effort to see them.

I'd heard that there were birds of many different colors in the rainforest, and, under normal circumstances, the sight of them would have been completely incredible. However, these were not normal circumstances, and a cursory glance at my arm gave me proof of that. I had no desire to accidentally disturb any more nests.

Eventually, the trail began climbing uphill once more. Here we had to be very careful to avoid tripping over tree roots, of which there were a large number lying in wait to do just that.

It's like they wanted to be tripped over. There were so many of them, and some of them were so large, that it was inevitable, especially if you already feel as though your legs can barely support your body weight.

"Careful where you step" Matt said, almost unnecessarily. Even so, I was taking his advice; the last thing I wanted was another injury.

Despite my best efforts, my concentration wavered for the ground for a second. It was just one second, but one second was all it took.

I tripped over a root and fell to the ground. I'd twisted my right ankle in the act of doing so, and it started hurting almost immediately.

"Ow!" I howled, not caring how loud I was or what potential predators awaited. I was pretty sure that, for the most part, we were at the top of the food chain here.

But then I remembered the Rowlet who had inflicted such misery upon me, and I realized that this might not be the case.

At any rate, as soon as I was on the ground, the man in front of me, Ken Weldworth, turned around to offer a hand.

"Thanks" I replied, taking his hand and pulling myself off the ground. I grimaced, gritting my teeth as I realized that putting any weight on my right ankle was going to be painful.

Okay...so I've got a twisted ankle and an infected arm. What next?

The good news was, my fall didn't hold us up that much. After a quick check that I hadn't broken anything (which I didn't think I had, since nothing seemed broken), we kept moving. The sight of the Bamboo Patch seemed to have invigorated the guides further, and they were determined to push us to go as fast as possible.

The bad news was, just because it wasn't broken didn't mean that it didn't hurt. I began limping through the jungle, hoping that I wouldn't fall again and hurt some new part of my body.

I wish I had a walking stick or something. I could use it to steady myself; it would come in very handy right about now.

I wasn't a big believer in "ask and you shall receive". If you wanted something, you had to get it yourself. You had to work for it. I had no expectation that Arceus would just drop a walking stick from the heavens and into the jungle for me to use.

Fortunately, within five minutes I found a suitable stick, roughly four feet long, that would do for the task. It was leaning against a tree, so I simply grabbed it without stopping or disturbing anyone else.

Was that a sign? A sign from Arceus? A sign from...I don't know.

I shook my head. There were enough problems in the natural world for me right now, and it would really be nice not to have to worry about anything supernatural.

We walked gently upwards for a mile along the Phoenix River. The white blur from earlier that might have been Jacob the Alolan Vulpix did not reappear during this time.

As a result, I began to consider the possibility that it really had been some sort of solar reflection on the river. After all, the sun had now gone behind a cloud, one of the few that were present today.

"The good news is, it's unlikely to rain today," Matt said. "Well, there will be some rain, but not until we're all asleep".

That's good. But usually when there's good news, there's bad news as well. At least, when it's phrased that way.

"The bad news is, this afternoon's going to be a real scorcher. The high is ninety-five degrees".

I couldn't help but groan; fortunately, I didn't think it was particularly audible. Ninety-five degrees was very hot indeed, and it feels even hotter when you're exerting yourself like I was.

The pain in my ankle certainly didn't help. It's said that the two best things you can do for a twisted ankle are ice and rest. Good luck finding those two things in the middle of a jungle expedition!

"Yes, so you should be very careful with how much exposure you're getting to the sun. Drinking plenty of water is also important".

Those are things we already knew, Captain Obvious.

After a time period that felt almost interminable, Matt said we were stopping for lunch. By this time we were in yet another clearing, not far from the river's edge. From here, you could see the other side of the Phoenix River, as well as the rocks it was rushing over.

We all sat down and he began making salami and cheese sandwiches. During the time that I waited to get one, Dr. Saint Lawrence took me aside and gave me a pill to take. This was of course the antibiotic that he had prescribed me to fight the infection in my arm.

I took it from him and swallowed it, washing it down with a swig of water from my canteen. I sincerely hoped that there wouldn't be any side effects, and that it began to help ease the swelling.

I really hope they don't have to drain it. I really, really hope they don't have to drain it.

In addition to being afraid of many things you find in the jungle, I also had a fear of needles. Back at home, I couldn't even watch TV shows that had needles in them; it was that bad. That's the main reason why I didn't want it lanced (although I was ultimately willing to do whatever it took to survive).

Once I had taken the dose of antibiotics, I made my way back to the group and got the sandwich that had been made for me. Sitting down to eat, I noticed a very odd phenomenon.

There was a strange sense of heartburn. Now, I knew the type of heartburn associated with eating too much food too quickly, but this wasn't that. It felt, rather, that my heart was actually slightly burning.

This wasn't entirely a pleasant feeling, but it wasn't as excruciating as it might sound. Rather, in a way, it felt satisfying. It was much like sitting next to a blazing fire on a cold winter night.

And it was at that point that I knew: I could do anything.

Maybe it's just the antibiotics talking, but I feel, in this moment, that I'm going to get through this. I will see the temple, and I will get out alive.

Nothing is impossible. Absolutely nothing.

After we finished up our lunch and got moving again, the burning sensation in my heart became more intense, but not in a bad way.

About half an hour after we had left the clearing where we ate lunch on Day 2 of the trek, I heard a rustling sound in the leaves above us.

I didn't think much of it at first, until I heard a hissing noise. I figured it must have been a Snivy or Ekans, as those were the types of Pokemon that might make such a noise. However, within a few seconds, it became clear that it was something else entirely.

A large spider, roughly seven feet long, with eight long legs that crept along the ground and were twitching threateningly, dropped from a tree branch thirty feet above us and landed on the ground. I heard Matt, leading the group, yell out, "Retreat! RETREAT!"

I didn't need to be told twice; indeed, I didn't need to be told the first time either. In addition to being afraid of needles, I had a horrible fear of spiders.

You can't call it a phobia. I have a perfectly rational fear of spiders.

The massive spider was an Araquanid - a Water type that was not normally venomous. However, it was still a major threat, as it hissed threateningly at us.

"Be careful" I warned as we were retreating. "You don't want to disturb their nests".

"How were we disturbing its nest?" my dad asked me incredulously. "It was thirty feet in the air, and it just jumped down at us! The Araquanid is the aggressor, not us".

I didn't want to argue with him, but I still felt as though we should have scanned the branches more carefully. Perhaps the Araquanid considered this area its territory, and felt entitled to it. If so…

"Guys, get ready to run. We're not going to beat it in a fight without more injuries. And we don't want more injuries, do we?" That was Mike talking.

"But there's no other way to the temple," Chris Ruby told him. "Not one that doesn't involve a lot of bushwhacking, at any rate".

I shook my head, surprised at how cavalier Chris was about the spider's presence. "There's no treasure worth more than our lives, Chris. And if one of us dies on the trail, we're not going to get to the treasure anyway".

He didn't argue with me, but he didn't have to, because while we were talking, Matt had picked up a nearby stick that had a sharp enough point for it to be used as a spear. "Duck, guys" he warned us.

I ducked, and Matt heaved the makeshift spear through the air; much like a fish being speared, the spider was impaled by said spear, falling to the ground.

Let me explain something about spider blood: It's white, and it smells absolutely rancid. This is something my father had told me before we'd left for the trip, and I now knew he had been right.

"Ha! He's dead as shit!" Matt exclaimed, laughing. This stood in contrast to how serious he normally was, so much so that I had to laugh as well.

I was laughing more at Matt's new demeanor than I was at the Araquanid corpse lying in front of us; the latter was, in my opinion, nothing to joke about.

The dead spider twitched slightly, indicating that being stabbed straight through had not killed it instantly. The spear had not punctured its heart, but it was going to bleed to death, probably within seconds.

Matt didn't wait for this to happen. He brought his boot up and stomped down on the creature's head. I'm not even going to describe the scene that this created; use your own imagination.

"Did you really have to do that?" Chris asked him, sounding rather angry. "It was going to be dead within seconds. Isn't that a bit overkill?"

The guide shook his head. "When you're out in the wild, you do what you need to in order to survive. The spider was going to kill us if we didn't kill it first. That was self-defense, and you know it!"

Chris narrowed his eyes into slits. "No, it wasn't," he replied. "There was no need to kill it; it would have retreated once it saw that we were no threat".

Ah, yes, spiders and squabbles. Perfect start to the afternoon, isn't it?

I realized that, even though I had a major fear of spiders, I hadn't experienced as much fear as I usually did when I'd encountered such a large one as that Araquanid. Perhaps I'd just become acclimated to the danger level.

Am I getting a bit more lucid? I wondered. Have the antibiotics started to take effect?

I looked at my left arm. The wound was definitely still infected; I didn't know how long it took for the medication to start kicking in, but it clearly hadn't happened yet. However, it didn't hurt anymore, and it was no longer hot or even warm to the touch, at least no warmer than the rest of my arm.

Well, I guess that's progress.

Anyway, back to the argument currently taking place in the jungles of Alola:

"Christopher Ruby, I am a guide here, and I'm going to vouch for my brother". That was Mike Chelan speaking, and he was clearly rebuking Chris, judging both by the words he said and his tone of voice. "The fact is that he did what he needed to do".

Chris looked as though he were about to argue, but the looks from our faces told him everything he needed to know: That it was at least two against one, as much as seven against one, and he didn't want to pick a fight with the guides. They were, after all, responsible for keeping him alive on the expedition.

Chris Ruby threw up his arms like a suspect stopped by the police, showing that he was giving up the argument. After that, we were all silent for a few seconds.

"Any further objections?" Matt asked the group at large. When there were none, he continued with, "Okay, let's keep going".

For the rest of the afternoon, I was constantly looking upwards at the branches above us. I figured it was only a matter of time until another massive spider dropped from the jungle canopy and fought us, and so I took it upon myself to warn the others about it if this did happen.

However, over the hour that came after the encounter with the spider, I realized that I was experiencing an emotion I hadn't had in any large amount since yesterday.

Confidence.

I still had fear inside of me. I wasn't okay by any means, but I had an increasing optimism that I was going to be. In a way, I felt like a whole new man.

It certainly didn't hurt that the fever seemed to be abating. I would now have a lot more energy, and now I could do whatever I set my mind to. I could be an active participant in this quest rather than merely a victim of it.

Over the next several hours, I began to feel a lot better about my current situation. While I didn't feel invincible at all, I was a lot happier than I had been just a few hours ago.

As we crested another ridge, I took a look over the edge, and what I saw was pretty amazing. With my new attitude, I was able to appreciate it more.

The white rapids of the Phoenix River wound their way through a long, narrow valley in the middle of the jungle. Despite the heat of the afternoon, there was an increasing amount of mist over everything, giving it an almost magical quality.

There were so many different types of tropical trees that, in months and years to come, I'd never be able to remember them all. There were so many of them that they almost seemed to blend together, even though my vision was good enough that I could still see each individual tree.

In that moment, I imagined how we must look from the air, eight explorers slowly making their way through the massive landscape. It would definitely have been a pretty incredible sight, and, while I wished I could have seen that, this was the next best thing.

What is that feeling I'm having right now? Is it...gratitude?

Indeed it was, and I smiled visibly. Since the whole group had briefly stopped at the top of this ridge to admire the vista, I had some time to rest, but I increasingly felt as though I didn't really need it.

Dr. Saint Lawrence looked over at me. "You look a lot better, Bradley," he told me. "I see you're smiling; you seem to be enjoying yourself".

I chuckled. "I am, Dr. Saint Lawrence. I am".

The best part was, the next time someone asked me if I was okay, I didn't have to lie.

Late that afternoon, we found yet another clearing to bed down in. Now that the adrenaline from the day's hike, as well as the spider attack, was fading, I was beginning to feel rather exhausted again.

There is, however, a difference between exhausted and sluggish. I wasn't feeling sluggish in the least; I was far more acutely aware of my surroundings, and the chirp of every bird, as well as bird Pokemon, filled me with joy.

The feeling of heartburn came back, but, as stated above, it wasn't an unpleasant one. It convinced me that I could overcome any challenge that was placed before me on this trip.

Dad said that going through hard times builds character. He's right.

As soon as we had finished setting up our tents (we had the same sleeping assignments as last night), I sat inside on my sleeping bag. I didn't have any books to read, so there wasn't really anything I could do besides listen to the sounds of nature.

Just when it occurred to me that I should leave the tent if I wanted to appreciate nature more, the tent flap opened and my father climbed in.

"Hey, buddy" he told me. "Were you about to get out?"

"No" I lied. "I'll talk with you for a few minutes. Can I tell you something?"

My father shrugged. "I'm all ears. I hope you're okay, though".

I laughed this time; it was almost becoming a running joke with the number of times I'd been asked that question.

"Yeah, I'm fine" I replied, completely unable to suppress a smile at being able to tell the truth. "You're right, Dad; hard times build character".

"Ah, you're gaining the fatherly wisdom that I had imparted onto you. It's very nice to see that".

Both of us spent a good five seconds cracking up at that. For a few moments, it was just like old times, with the two of us laughing together. You could certainly say that it was a good father-son bonding experience.

But then I got more serious. "Dad...remember that painting from the IRAA headquarters?"

My father scratched his chin. "Please specify which one. There are quite a few of them".

"The one with the human turning into a Braixen. It's called Braixen's Curse".

He nodded. "I remember that one. What about it?"

I considered whether or not I would respond to him. After all, to admit that I worried that the painting might come true would have been extremely childish. I was too old for something like that.

But then I remembered that he was my father, and that I could be honest with him. That I should be honest with him, for to not do so would be a betrayal of the values he'd taught me.

"I have this slight feeling that the painting...might be of a real event. And I'm kind of scared".

I probably sounded at most half my age when I said that, but my father simply laughed.

"Don't be scared, Bradley. It's not real, just a painting. Perhaps it's some Ancient Alolan religious artwork, but that doesn't make it real. Maybe it's just your fever talking?"

"I don't feel feverish anymore, though," I replied. "I think the antibiotics are really doing the trick".

"Maybe they are. But that doesn't mean the infection is gone. Maybe all it did was to suppress the fever. I don't know; not a doctor".

I shook my head. My stomach had started to growl, so I was very much relieved when I overheard Matt say that they would start cooking dinner.

Somehow, as I had the following thought, I knew it was true.

Just one more day, and then we'll reach the temple. One more day.

(Insert a horizontal line here)

That night, sleep came much more easily than it had the previous night. That didn't mean it was dreamless, though.

Because it wasn't.

I found myself underneath the stars, on top of a mountain. It wasn't like the mountains in the Alolan jungle; this one was much taller, and, what was more, there were no signs of any vegetation. No dense greenery like you saw in the rainforest.

I was on the outside of a large hall, which looked somewhat like the Parthenon from that fictional land called...what was it? Ah, yes...Greece. To use that analogy, the mountain could be considered as a much larger version of the Acropolis.

Spear Pillar.

How did I know that I was on Spear Pillar, you might ask? Well, simply put...I just knew it. Sometimes, even when you don't have concrete evidence that something is true, you just know it is despite not being able to prove it.

Everyone in this world knew the story of Spear Pillar. Located atop the summit of Mount Coronet, it was said to be the place where the world began all those billions of years ago.

That would make that hall...the Hall of Origin.

Much like the last two dreams I'd had, I was aware of the fact that I was dreaming. I saw that the front door to the hall was open, so I entered it, feeling no fear whatsoever.

As I entered it, I felt my jaw drop at the sheer grandeur of the hall. Thick Greek columns rose from the floor up to the ceiling, a good hundred feet above me. They didn't stretch all the way to the ceiling, though; they were truncated about halfway up, and they looked sharper than the spear Matt had used that day to kill the spider.

There was a flight of stairs in the middle of the hall, and I walked through the hall, finding myself strutting as though I owned the place.

Ha...I wish. Even if it hadn't been the palace of Arceus, the Creator of all things, it would have been exorbitantly expensive to purchase; my parents didn't have nearly that kind of money.

At any rate, I saw an...interesting Pokemon hovering above the throne. Since I was in the throne room of the Hall of Origin, I could only assume that this was Arceus; it would make sense, given pictures I'd seen of the Creator.

Arceus was an enormous deer-like Pokemon. Around the middle of his body was a large golden ring that looked almost like a ship's wheel. Said "wheel" was studded with green gemstones, adding to the overall majestic look of the Creator.

"Come closer. What do you desire?"

I nearly flinched at the booming voice of Arceus. It was rather incredible to hear it for myself, but boy, was it quite jarring.

Nonetheless, I came closer, to the point that, had this not been a dream, Arceus' voice would have easily caused me to go deaf. I saw that he had a cold expression on his face.

I didn't expect him to smite me, but I was going to be careful nonetheless. I tried to speak kindly, but with confidence at the same time.

"My Lord, you know who I am. I'm Bradley Clarion, and you summoned me to Spear Pillar for a reason that I am not yet privy to".

I really hope that sounded formal enough.

"Yes" Arceus replied, nodding and smiling slightly, his ice-cold expression fading. "I sent you here in your dream, because I have vitally important information to share with you".

"Oh?" I asked. You might chastise me for being so uncreative with my response, but it's hard to have the courage to say anything when you're in front of a being with so much power.

"Yes. I am here to inform you that you will soon come to a very important, very difficult decision. It's absolutely imperative that you choose correctly, and that you do not panic".

Oh, great. There's this standard trope. I have a decision to make, blah blah blah.

"My Lord, how will I know what the correct decision is? You told me just now that it would be difficult". I chose my words carefully; I wasn't sure if it was possible to die in a dream, but it probably was at the hands of Arceus.

"You will know. You will know the correct decision when the time comes. It will be a difficult one, but do not panic".

Do not panic.

"Is there anything else I must know?" I asked the Creator.

There was a long, awkward silence, during which time I was acutely aware of the cold wind coming into the drafty palace from around Mount Coronet. Eventually, Arceus responded.

"Yes. It is vitally important that you stop Matamoros, the Conqueror. That's all you need to know".

Before I could ask him what Matamoros was, or why Matamoros was referred to as the Conqueror, Arceus snapped his fingers, and I woke up.

I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. Dawn of the third day; less than twelve hours remained until we would reach the temple, or so I hoped.

Waiting for my father to wake up, I lay back down in the sleeping bag and looked up at the tent's ceiling. Even though the tent cover was supposedly opaque, I could still make out the lightening sky through it.

Eventually, some time after I had opened my eyes, he began to stir. By that time, I was ready for the day.

"Morning, Dad" I told him, tapping him on the shoulder as I said it.

My father opened his eyes and looked at me with an excited expression. "Morning, buddy" he replied sleepily.

We sat there for a few moments, neither of us saying a word. My father finally broke the silence.

"Big day today, isn't it?"

The random spider encounter was not something I planned from the beginning; I realized that it would be a bit boring to just have more jungle trekking, and that we needed more excitement. Plus I haven't been cruel enough to Bradley...and that's another thing. His name is BRADLEY, NOT BRANDON. That's not a big deal, though.

In any case, you guys know what to do, and I'll see you next time with the next chapter. It'll probably be a pretty long one, too, so you have that to look forward to as well.

Stay safe, Lucas Whitefur