The treatment that Xatu had assigned Mew had a couple of problems. There didn't seem to be any visible improvement to their condition from lying in bed all day; and more importantly, it was really boring. Mew hated it. There was nothing to do in bed besides laze around and stare up at the ceiling, and with every day that passed they grew more and more restless. They wanted to get up and bound out of the building and feel the summer sun on their face, not lie there and waste away in a pathetic lethargy. It was even worse when they could hear all the other Society members coming and going all the time, talking to each other about all the wonderful places they'd been—mountains, oceans, valleys, caves overflowing with massive crystals of all colors.
Mew kept their eyes shut more often than not. These days it seemed like everything they saw drew out an unwanted flashback to a place they'd never been, things they'd never done. A budding tulip on the windowsill showed them a grove of flowering fruit trees. The paper scraps lying all over the floor told them about a time when someone had spent the whole day drawing instead of studying. And the one time they caught a glimpse of the Expedition Gadget, an entire lifetime of exploring rampaged through their thoughts and left them a comatose wreck. Not a single one of those memories was even remotely familiar to them. That didn't stop the endless assault of recollections.
For what it was worth, Aster stayed with them and tried to find ways to keep them entertained: board games, books, and the occasional song he'd hum to help them sleep. As nice as these distractions were, none of them could compare to the frigid wind on a mountaintop, the dark depths of a sunken ship, or a meadow of daisies with petals soaring in the wind. And no matter how long Mew waited, their illness never fully abated. There were brief periods of wellness, but they never lasted long. Mew's boredom sank deeper into despair as days turned into long weeks and their bruises faded away.
But one day, Aster strolled into their room with a self-satisfied look on his face. "I convinced Chief Ampharos to let us go on a trip," he said.
Mew bolted upright from where they lay in bed. "Where!?"
"A little place called Serene Village. I reckon you'll like it. There are loads of kids around your age there to talk to and play with, so you won't be sitting around bored out of your mind. And I think it's high time we had a change of scenery, don't you?"
All of a sudden there wasn't the faintest trace of lethargy left in them. In its place was a bright, electric excitement—they could finally go out and do something with their time! He extended a paw, and Mew took it and let him pull them to their feet. But he didn't let go! Instead, he lifted them up and placed them onto his shoulders so they could ride on him, the same way they did in Mystery Jungle.
"When are we leaving?" Mew said, grinning ear to ear.
"Today. I've already got everything sorted away and packed"—he strode towards the door, picking up his worn cloth bag on the way—"so we don't really have anything else to take care of."
As the Treecko made his way through the halls, keeping Mew steady with one paw as the other held onto his bag, the midday sun that shone through the windows lashed out at Mew's eyes and shot a piercing pain through their skull. They had to squint to keep their eyes from burning up in the light. It was nothing like the way it had felt mere weeks ago, when the warmth and light had been welcoming instead of harsh. Mew shut their eyes and buried their face in the back of Aster's head in the hopes that the darkness would bring some relief. The mere effort of getting up onto the Treecko's shoulders had exhausted them; their limbs were heavy and their mind foggy.
Then Aster stepped outside, and Mew started to wish they had stayed in bed.
The barrage of noises was relentless: hundreds of voices all arguing and screaming and yelling, the waves roaring and breaking on the shoreline, the salt-filled wind shrieking as it rushed past them. Mew's stomach churned like a stormy ocean, and their head pounded as though it were about to burst. They had never felt so ill. It was all too much, but they refused to admit it out loud. This was the first time in weeks they got to see the sun, to feel the wind, to actually get up out of bed. They would bear any amount of pain to make this day worth it. Because that was what it was all about, right? Make the most of every day. That was the urge that lurked beneath their thoughts, nagging them to not waste a single second of their time, because who knew how long it would last?
But…maybe it might be worth voicing their concerns, just to make sure. As Aster carried them down the stairs and towards the plaza, they said, "Hold on. Didn't Xatu tell me to rest? He said that's the only way I can get better."
The Treecko scoffed as he walked, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. "You can rest at Serene Village. Besides, Lively Town doesn't really have a doctor from what I can tell. Why do you think the chief had to bring in Xatu?"
"And Serene Village has a doctor?"
"Well, sort of. There's a Pokemon called Audino there. She's the school nurse, which I guess is better than nothing. She can take a look at you if you want."
"I don't know…" Mew's mind was sluggish and viscous; they didn't know what a nurse was, and they didn't have the energy to figure it out. Aster must have noticed their exhaustion, judging by the way he came to a halt at the entrance to the docks.
"We can stay in Lively Town if you don't want to go," he said.
"No, no! I'm fine. I wanna go." The prospect of spending even another day stuck in their bedroom was enough to make them weep.
He shrugged. "If you say so."
It turned out Aster had also worked out a method of transportation to Serene Village: Lapras had agreed to ferry them out of the docks and along the coastline all the way to Nectar Meadow, from which they could follow the road on foot to Serene Village. While the seawater rocked Lapras back and forth as she swam through the waves, Mew wondered what Serene Village was like. Would it be closer to Capim Town's raised platforms and massive tree stumps, or Lively Town's more industrialized buildings and stone roads? They didn't know, and they were eager to find out. They didn't ask Aster about it during the trip, though: it turned out talking often required energy that they didn't have. So they sat with Aster on Lapras' shell in a comfortable silence; and when they arrived at Nectar Meadow at around noon, the Treecko lifted them onto his back and set off with nary a complaint.
After a couple hours of walking, the beginnings of civilization began to make themselves known along the edges of the road. Mew realized that Serene Village was something entirely different from what they had seen before—a far cry from the stonework and arches of Lively Town, as well as the nature-based architecture of Capim Town. Where the other two towns were always in motion, everybody perpetually moving from one place to another to handle some important business, Serene Village was almost totally still. And while Capim Town and Lively Town had their buildings and Pokemon all clustered together in one spot, Serene Village was far more spread out and sparse.
As Aster carried Mew down the dirt path, they spotted a few round wooden houses nestled between idyllic fields of sunflowers and alliums, potatoes and lettuce, all resting beneath a grey sky. The sun now hid behind dark rain clouds, so the day was only warm, not hot. The lack of sunlight came as a relief to Mew's eyes—it meant they could look around without having to squint at the glaring light. A few Pokemon were sitting on the grass outside the houses or working in the fields, but besides them nobody else was outside, leaving the path deserted. Between the fields stood shadowed woods, mostly green, though a few of the trees' leaves were now golden and red.
"Are these little houses the whole village?" Mew asked Aster.
"Nah, the main part of the village is up ahead. You'll know it when you see it," he replied. His tone of voice was casual, but a note of trepidation lurked in the way he stared down the path with unwavering focus.
"Something wrong?"
"No, no. I just haven't been here in a while, that's all." He nervously fiddled with his scarf. "I sort of…ran away."
"Really?!" They winced at how loud their own voice was. More quietly, they continued, "I didn't think you were the type of guy to run away. You're so…boring."
"Wow, thanks," he said with a scoff. "Actually, I'll have you know I ran away twice. The first time it was Vallea's idea."
"Huh. Why'd you run away the second time?"
He didn't respond.
After a few seconds, Mew asked, "Too much?"
"Too much," he murmured. "I…don't want to talk about it right now."
A few minutes later, they came across a little creek burbling and bubbling as it flowed parallel to the path in the opposite direction of where they were going; as they traveled, the creek gradually grew wider and wider, eventually becoming a full-fledged river. They could barely see the other coast, that's how wide it was. And far ahead of them, where a giant glittering lake fed the river its water, a group of colorful houses stood between two colossal snowy mountains that had their bases covered in forests, the leaves colored in green and orange and yellow and red. Voices sounded off in the distance—children laughing and shrieking in joy. A group of kids came running up the path towards them: a Togepi, a Budew, and a Caterpie. If Mew let their thoughts wander, they could see themself running—not floating, running—down the path as well.
When the children spotted Aster, they let out excited shouts and sprinted even faster towards the two of them; soon they had them surrounded and were all talking over each other.
"Aster's back! He's back! I gotta tell Mom!"
"What's it like at Lively Town?!"
"Who's that with you? Did you find your partner yet?!"
Aster flinched at that last question, but managed to maintain an expression that vaguely resembled a smile. Mew, on the other hand, had already covered their ears and shut their eyes as tightly as they could: the voices brought a pounding headache that refused to let up. The Treecko seemed to have noticed, for he shushed the kids and said, "It's good to see you all. Hey, uh, have I ever mentioned the door to the Ancient Barrow?"
His change of subject had all the subtlety of a punch to the face, but the children made noises of interest, oohs and aahs. "It's supposed to be shut, right?" Budew asked in a quieter voice. Mew managed to open their eyes.
"Well, sometimes it's not," Aster said. "I reckon you ought to go check—never know what you might find, right? What do you say?"
With a chorus of excited gasps, Budew and the other kids bolted off towards the village and took their clamor with them. Aster stood, shaking his head, and watched them run off. Once they were a good distance away, he said, "Sorry about that, Mew. How're you feeling?"
"I've been worse," Mew murmured. "They were really excited to see you, huh?"
"They would've been more excited to see Vallea—she's the one who got them all riled up about being explorers in the first place." He let out a little chuckle, though a sigh followed it. As he started walking again, he said, "You know, her father is still here… I sort of left him behind after it…you know, it happened. I should probably go say hi."
"Mm." Mew could barely keep their eyes open, they were so tired. But they didn't want to fall asleep either, because they were finally nearing the main part of the village and they wanted to see everything they could. Behind an old wooden archway stood the main plaza. It actually resembled the one in Lively Town quite a bit: there was a café and a training dojo and a shop run by a Kecleon, same as in Lively Town. The dirt path split into three smaller paths. One led to the left towards a small dock that jutted into the large lake feeding the river, while another went into the woods on the right. The third meandered through the plaza before them, across a cracked wooden bridge, and up a tall grassy hill dotted with houses.
While the plaza's structure may have resembled Lively Town a bit, the Pokemon here were far quieter and calmer than the residents of Lively Town. A Teddiursa and Ursaring stood chatting by the café; a Lombre swam leisurely through the lake as an Audino sat on the docks, staring at the dark clouds hanging low over the village.
For a moment Mew was down in the lake, floating in the water and looking up at a sunny blue sky.
The moment passed, and they were on Aster's back again.
When Mew took a good look at the Pokemon they saw, they realized nobody was in any rush. Even the Kecleon who worked here was relaxing: he didn't make much of an effort at attracting customers, instead opting to rest his head on the booth's counter and daydream. At first glance they seemed content, but as they walked through the plaza Mew spotted an odd look in some of their eyes. A few of the Pokemon seemed…haunted, almost. On edge. Looking for a danger that wasn't there. It was the same look they sometimes saw in Aster's eyes.
Mew tapped the Treecko's shoulder to get his attention, then they pointed at the Audino on the pier. "What's with them?"
"What do you mean?"
"They look…weird. It's like they're scared of something."
Aster came to a halt and stared at Audino for a few seconds. He turned his gaze to each of the Pokemon in turn. "They're shaken," he muttered, and started walking again. "Dark Matter started its string of petrifications right next to this village, after all, so I guess it makes sense."
"Are you shaken too?"
He was quiet for a few seconds as he carried them through the plaza. It wasn't until they had come to a stop in front of the lake that he finally said, "Yeah, I guess I am."
Over by the café, one of the Pokemon—a Raticate—looked up from a piece of wood that he was carving with his massive teeth. His eyes widened when he spotted them. "Oh, it's Aster. He's come home!"
And just like that, every Pokemon in the plaza was ogling them. Dozens of eyes all fixated on them. Mew could feel Aster's shoulders and neck tense; he kept his tone cordial, however, as he said, "Hi, guys. Um…good to see you."
"Where have you been?" said Audino, who had stood up and making her way towards them. "We've been worried, you know. First Vallea disappeared, then you vanished immediately afterwards—"
"I went to Lively Town," he said. "I couldn't stay here after what happened."
"Oh…" Audino's ears twitched as her bright blue eyes focused on Mew. "Who's that with you? I've never seen such a Pokemon before."
"Later, okay? I'll talk to you all later." The Treecko hurried out of the plaza and up the hill towards the houses. Mew could feel everyone's gazes on the back of their neck.
"They seemed pretty surprised to see you. How long have you been gone?" they asked.
"A few weeks," he said, coming to a halt at the top of the hill. Without waiting for a response, he continued, "Looks like we arrived." Before them stood two houses, one of them in significantly better condition than the other.
Mew dared to hope that his house was the nice-looking one; their hopes were quickly dashed, however, as Aster strode towards the beaten up one.
"This is where I used to stay, back when I lived here," he said. The worn-down building he referred to looked old and unmaintained: the windows were foggy and dust-covered; the green shingles on the roof were either chipped or missing entirely; and the bushes growing beneath the windows were withered and grey.
As the two entered, Mew recoiled from the sickly sweet stench of rotting berries that hung in the air. "Yeesh, Aster! You lived like this?!"
"Well, it wasn't always this messy." He lifted Mew off of his head and let them float beside him, then dumped his bag next to the front door, sending thick clouds of dust into the air. His expression was empty. "It looks like the guy who owned this house hasn't been here in a long time."
Mew slowly sank to the filthy floorboards. Even a task as simple as floating was a struggle these days, so it was easier to rest on the floor while they processed what he said. They furrowed their brow. "Wait a sec. Whose house is this? You didn't steal it, did you?"
"What? Of course not." A little bit of life returned to his eyes as he turned to Mew. "This house used to belong to a Pokemon called Nuzleaf. He took me in, looked out for me. But then he…well, he left too."
"Like Vallea?"
"Sort of. Actually, n-not really. He…" The Treecko awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "Listen, why don't you take a load off, rest a bit? I've got a bedroom just down the hall you can use. In the meantime I'll go say hello to my partner's father, see how he's doing."
Mew blanched at having to spend even more time lying around and doing nothing, especially in a place this disgusting. "Oh, come on! There's no way I'm gonna waste the day sitting in bed! I wanna go out and meet people! Come on, pleeeaaase?"
"I—" He tilted his head, narrowed his eyes. "If I say no, you'll just follow me anyways, won't you?"
"Yep!"
Aster sighed. "Fine. Come on, then." He picked Mew up again and set them on his shoulders, then stepped back outside, shutting the door behind him. His destination was the nice-looking house mere meters away—squat and wide, constructed from dark planks with a deep blue roof. He hesitated a moment before knocking once, quietly. "Mr. Carracosta?" he called. "Are you in there? It's, uh, me. Aster. I know I sort of took off and ditched this place without saying anything, but, er…" Pulling on his scarf, he mumbled, "I'm back now, so…"
No response.
"Maybe he isn't home," Mew said. They took off from his shoulders and floated down to the ground, where they could take a look through the window. The curtains were open; inside, they saw a cleanly organized living room with a rocking chair in the corner, a desk with a stack of papers on it, and a few paintings hanging on the wall. A few dirty dishes lined the counter in the kitchen, but other than that there were no signs of any messes. Unlike Nuzleaf's old house, this one looked like somebody actually lived in it.
"Where could he be?" Aster mused. "Maybe he's at his orchard, or down by the café… Listen, Mew, how about you stay—"
"I'm not going anywhere. Wherever you go, you're taking me with you." They folded their arms, daring him to disagree.
"But I don't even know where Mr. Carracosta is! Who knows how long it'll take me to find him? If you come along you'll only get even more exhausted."
"I don't think you'll have to worry about that, child," said a deep, unfamiliar voice.
The Treecko whirled around to the slope behind him. Mew turned as well, only for a sharp pain to force their eyes shut. From behind squinted eyelids, they saw a dark, craggy shadow climbing up the hill towards them. They forced their eyes to open a little wider; the shadow sharpened to a stoic, stern-faced Pokemon with a blue, rocky shell and flippers that cradled a basket filled with berries of all colors. Carracosta's face didn't betray much emotion, but his voice was warm as he said, "It's good to see you, Aster. I see you brought a friend?"
"G-good afternoon," Aster said. He stood rigidly, more tense than Mew had ever seen him before. "Listen, I'm really—"
"Don't just stand there, child. Help me out, will you?" Carracosta dumped the basket of berries into Aster's arms. He moved past him, opened the door, and gestured for them to enter. "You can put the basket on the kitchen—"
Carracosta stopped when he spotted Mew. His eyes went wide and he gasped, stumbling back and leaning against the doorframe for support. "Is that…Vallea?" He took a few lumbering steps towards them only to come to a halt. He examined Mew closely. The surprise faded from his face, replaced by a mix of disappointment and sorrow. "No, it isn't…"
Aster's eyes flitted between Carracosta and Mew, his brow furrowed. Eventually, he said, "You said to put the basket in the kitchen, right?"
"Er…yes," Carracosta said, still staring at Mew. He waved vaguely in the direction of his house's interior. "Just…put it on the kitchen table."
"Mhm." Aster stepped through the doorway but paused, meeting Carracosta's eyes. He stood silently for a few seconds, then said, "I'm sorry for running away."
Carracosta turned reluctantly from Mew and gave the Treecko a wan smile. "Don't worry, child. I understand. There's no shame in needing some space."
The Treecko looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he moved further into the house, leaving Mew alone with Carracosta.
"Apologies, child. I must be getting old," Carracosta said, chuckling lightly. "What is your name?"
"I'm Mew! It's nice to meet you."
"The pleasure is all…" Carracosta stopped, his eyes narrowed. "Hold on a moment. Are you the Mew? The one who Aster said was—"
"They don't remember anything," Aster shouted from inside. He was already in the kitchen, the basket safely on the table. "They're like me."
"Hm…" Carracosta narrowed his eyes at Mew. "Has the Expedition Society found a way to restore your memories?"
"Nope," Mew said.
"What a shame. I can't imagine not knowing anything about my past." He shook his head, then beckoned them inside. "Come in, come in."
Mew entered the house, though they were thoroughly confused by what was happening. Several questions about Carracosta, Vallea, and their memories whirled around their mind. As they made their way through the living room and to the kitchen, they asked, "Do I look like Vallea?"
"No," Carracosta said as he shut the front door. "Frankly, you two look nothing alike. As I said, I'm simply getting old."
Mew was feeling exhausted again, so they sat down in one of the chairs in the kitchen. Aster gave them an oddly longing look, but didn't comment. Instead, he said, "So, Mr. Carracosta? How have you been doing?"
"Eh…" Carracosta made a motion that looked like a shrug, but it was hard to tell when he had a shell instead of shoulders. "I've managed. I will admit it was difficult at first, but the people here have been good to me. It's gotten easier than it used to be." He stepped into the kitchen, opened a cupboard, and pulled out a few jars of ingredients. "At any rate, I was planning to prepare a honey cake for Roselia before you two arrived. She's fallen sick again, so she could use a pick-me-up. Would you two like to help?"
Aster opened his mouth, but a loud, frantic knocking on the front door cut him off.
"That's strange," Carracosta said. He set the jars onto the counter and lumbered towards the door. "I don't normally get this many unannounced guests in one day."
He opened the door, and from behind him Mew spotted a trace of bright green fur and pointed ears. "Is Aster here?" said the Pokemon who'd been knocking. "We need his help."
"Hello, Deerling. Yes, he's in the kitchen." Sarcasm tinged his voice as he continued, "Is anyone else going to come visit? If so, I really should start preparing a little feast for all the guests—"
"No, just me! Now can I please see him?!" Without waiting for a response, Deerling pushed past Carracosta and barged into the house—only to come to a halt when she saw Mew. "Oh," she said. "Hi. I haven't seen you before."
Deerling smelled of flowers and pollen, which was oddly funny when compared to her brash attitude. What made it even funnier was Carracosta standing by the door, puffing his chest up like he was about to go on a tirade. Mew smiled at that. "I would introduce myself, but it looks like you're in a bit of a hurry, right?" they said.
"What do you need help with? A lost item? A rescue mission?" Aster said, leaning against the kitchen counter.
"It's a long story," Deerling said, "but basically, Pancham decided to take Goomy into the Foreboding Forest yesterday. Nobody knows why, and they haven't come back yet. Shelmet went in after them a few hours ago, and he hasn't come back either. Then Simipour decided to go—"
"I get it," he cut her off.
"So can you help? I thought since you're back in the village, it might be a good time to ask."
"Actually, when I think about it—now isn't a good time for anything. I gotta look after this kid. They're sick," he said, gesturing at Mew.
"But…the villagers need help!" Deerling scowled at him. "I thought your job is to rescue Pokemon!"
Mew winced at the sudden rise in her voice, their ears ringing and their head spinning. As the conversation continued, they lay their head down on the table, shut their eyes, and covered their ears. The voices in the room grew muffled, but not so much that they couldn't make out what everyone was saying.
"My job is to help those who need it," Aster was saying in an even tone. "Right now Mew needs it. Besides, you're pretty tough. Why can't you go find them?"
"I would go searching, but I don't want to go alone. Who knows what could be in there?" Deerling said.
"Then get someone else to tag along. Like Espurr."
"Espurr's been gone for weeks. She went on a trip to the…Sand Continent, I think? Apparently she's searching for someone. And nobody else wants to go, not even Magnezone! He told me he needs to call for backup, but I think that's just an excuse he made up," she said.
"Well—" Aster started, but she kept going.
"And I bet I'll feel a lot better going through that Mystery Dungeon if an Expedition Society member is with me."
"Like I said—"
"I can look after Mew," Carracosta cut in.
Mew opened their eyes to find the Treecko looking at Carracosta, who was already busy at the counter pouring ingredients into a bowl. Aster said, "Are you sure? I don't want to burden you."
"It'll be no trouble," Carracosta said grumpily, waving a spoon vaguely in the direction of the door. "Go, child. Find them."
"Well…what about you, Mew?" Aster turned to them. "Are you okay with staying here for a little while? I know you said you don't want to waste your time sitting around…"
"Eh…" Mew shrugged, placing their chin onto the table. "I feel like I won't be that much help on this rescue mission. If I come, I'll just get in the way. And I guess I could use a break from all that travelling."
The Treecko sighed, then nodded to Deerling. "Okay. Lead the way."
Deerling rushed out with a hurried "Goodbye," and Aster followed her to the front door. After one last worried glance at Mew, he stepped out and shut the door behind him. The house fell silent in their absence, the only sounds being that of Carracosta mixing the batter in a bowl and muttering to himself.
"So, you're sick?" Carracosta eventually said.
Mew quirked their brow. "…Yeah."
"That's a shame. You should rest; it'll help you feel better."
"I am resting," they said with a laugh.
"Oh." He mixed harder. "Good."
As they sat idly at the table, Mew found that they were able to think again in the absence of Deerling's commotion. That wasn't a good thing. As they looked around the house, they saw themself running and jumping and playing on every inch of this floor. They saw years spent growing up and dreaming and laughing; they felt the sorrow at saying goodbye and the joy of leaving. None of it made sense. None of it was recognizable. Every time they blinked they saw something new.
"The nerve of that Deerling," Carracosta was grumbling. "I understand the circumstances are stressful, but that's no excuse to behave the way she did. Anyone with an ounce of self-awareness would know how rude it is to push into someone's house uninvited."
Mew tried to respond, but a thousand voices began yelling into their ears about decorum and behavior. The racket was deafening. They scrunched their eyes shut and covered their ears, but the voices didn't get any quieter. It took several seconds for the phantom shouting to dissipate, and by the time it did they were pretty sure they'd lost their hearing entirely, except they could still hear the creaking of a chair as it slid against the floor.
"Are you feeling well, Mew?" Carracosta said. They looked up to find that he now sat across the table from them. "You look a bit faint."
"Um…I'm fine."
"Are you sure? Maybe it would be best for you to lie down. Come." Without waiting for an answer, he scooped Mew up out of the chair and carried them out of the kitchen and down a hallway they hadn't noticed before. One of the doors on the left was slightly ajar; they caught a glimpse of a dusty floor and a bed that hadn't been used in months because she was gone gone gone—
Mew was suddenly seized by the urgent need to enter that room. It was absolutely vital that they see what's inside. They slipped out of Carracosta's flippers and floated towards the door.
"Hold on. Where are you going?" he was saying, but they had already pushed open the door and entered the bedroom.
It felt like they had finally come home, even though nothing they saw was remotely recognizable. There was an unfamiliar straw bed and a desk, both covered in a thick layer of dust, and a cracked wooden chest sitting in the corner. A bookshelf storing thick textbooks and books full of stories stood next to the chest, though it was covered in dust too. But the maps! There were so many of them! Maps covering the floor, lying on the desk, surrounding the bed, pinned on the walls, overflowing out of the chest. Someone had clearly lived in this place once, though it seemed there hadn't been anybody in this room for months—months? Wow, had it really been that long since she was last here? The room was practically caked in dust! Pops must be losing his mind at all this filth—
"Just what do you think you're doing, Mew?!"
Carracosta's indignant voice sounded off, loud as a ringing bell, and Mew's stomach churned as the world spun beneath them, and—
And she just wants to go home.
"This room is familiar," they said shakily. "It feels like I've been here before."
"Familiar or not, you shouldn't barge through other people's houses! Who raised you?!"
"…Nobody, really. I don't think I have any parents." They turned back to Carracosta, who bore an expression of mixed annoyance and panic. "But…you were really strict, weren't you? You'd always give these long lectures whenever Vallea did something wrong, and she never really managed to pay attention—"
They cut themself off when they realized what they were saying. There was no way for them to know how Carracosta treated his child, or how his child felt about those lectures which stretched on for what felt like hours, though they probably weren't more than a few minutes. Something wasn't right.
A little voice in the back of Mew's head kept saying they'd lost something important here. They floated around the bedroom, gazing at the desk and books and maps that were now horribly familiar. Whoever the creator of the maps was, they'd drawn out segments of the village and the forests and mountains surrounding it. The books were technically the library's property, though they'd never been properly returned, and the desk had been a gift from Raticate—how was he, anyways? Was he still working on that wooden carving of his? She really had no idea what the carving was supposed to be, though Raticate insisted that—
"This was my child's room," Carracosta said. His solemn voice forced Mew's thoughts back to reality, back to the bedroom that wasn't theirs. He was a stranger to them, but they still couldn't bear to see him hurting. "I…haven't been here since she disappeared."
"What was she like?" Mew asked, though they had a feeling they knew the answer already.
"Stubborn. Brave. Ambitious." He fell silent for a second, then said another word almost too quietly for them to hear. "Inscrutable. I never quite understood her as well as I should have."
"She loved you," they said.
She still does.
Their mind felt as though it were split in two. One part wanted to get out of here as fast as it could and never come back. The other part needed to stay here and make everything right again. From somewhere far away, Mew was aware of Carracosta calling out to them as they fell down, down, back into the shadows. They couldn't reply.
In the end, neither side won.
When Mew opened their eyes, they thought they saw a starry night sky, constellations woven into the dark emptiness above them. Then they blinked, and the sky turned into a deep blue ceiling with cobwebs lining the corners. They sat up and took a look around. Mew sat on an old bed similar to the one in their room in the Expedition Society; the room itself was spartan, decorated with little more than a desk and a chair. Black clouds loomed through the foggy window, the sky darkened by nightfall. The door was shut, muffled voices seeping in through the wood, and the air smelled faintly of sweet berries and something baking. At a guess, Mew would say they were in Carracosta's bedroom—the place seemed too well-maintained to be Nuzleaf's house, and Carracosta had said earlier that he was baking a cake for somebody, which would explain the smell.
Mew floated a few centimetres off the ground, though not without difficulty, and approached the door. The voices became clearer as they got closer—they belonged to Carracosta and Aster as they spoke in the hallway.
"I don't know what happened. They were fine at first," Carracosta was saying. "But then their condition kept worsening, and they eventually fell unconscious."
"How long have they been out?"
"It happened shortly after you left, so at least a few hours."
Silence filled the hallway, followed by the door hinges creaking as a familiar Treecko peeked into the bedroom. His eyes were wide in worry, but he quickly let out a sigh of relief when he saw that Mew was awake and alert. "How are you feeling?" he asked.
Mew didn't know how to answer that. On the one hand, their mind was clear again and the intrusive thoughts were gone for the time being. On the other hand, whatever had happened to them had sapped them of their strength, leaving them exhausted like they'd just come back from a strenuous expedition.
Eventually, they muttered, "Tired." It was the truth. Then, "Did you find the lost Pokemon? Are they hurt?"
"Don't worry, we found them. All of them. The Mystery Dungeon in the Foreboding Forest has been growing and worsening, so it's getting harder to find a way out…we'll need to keep an eye on it." Aster stepped over, his face framed in shadow, and gently lifted them in his arms. "Let's go home," he said. They didn't know what he meant by home—was it Nuzleaf's house? Carracosta's? The Expedition Society? Or maybe even Mystery Jungle?
As Aster stepped past, Carracosta gazed at Mew with an odd expression on his face. Disappointment, or else longing. "Get well soon," he said. The sentiment was nice, but Mew was beginning to think they'd never get better. These unknown thoughts and memories were only growing more severe. Coming to this village had been a mistake.
When the two stepped outside, it quickly became clear what Aster meant by home: he was heading towards Nuzleaf's house. From the top of the hill they could see the night gently enveloping the houses and paths, rendering them little more than silhouettes with golden windows shining little spotlights onto the grass. The plaza and paths were empty, leaving the village almost totally silent except for the tree branches whispering as they rustled in the wind. In the absence of daylight, Mew could open their eyes fully and look up at the dark, low clouds. A declaration came to their mind: I want to be like those clouds. They didn't know who'd said it, only that it was important.
In the distance they spotted a huge green hill with an ancient, gnarled tree towering over it. That hill. It was important. They needed to go there right now right now right now please they need to go she needs to get over there and fix everything—
Mew slipped out of Aster's arms and pointed at the hill. "Can we go there?" they asked.
"…What? Go where?" The Treecko squinted at where they were pointing. A gasp escaped him when he spotted the hill. "Why…do you want to go to that hill in particular?"
"It seems nice. And I bet we'll get a great view of the village from the top."
He sucked in a long breath through clenched teeth. "Fine," he said. "But we won't stay for long."
It took Aster and Mew the better part of an hour to reach the top of the hill, even though the hill itself wasn't all that big. Mew struggled to find the stamina to scale the slope dotted with patchy grass and lilies, while Aster kept coming to a halt and staring blankly into space, his breathing shaky and uneven. But when they finally climbed all the way up, Mew decided it was all worth it.
"Wow, what a place!" they exclaimed. From up here they could see the whole village! Every single house, path, bridge, and field fit between a river and a set of sharp, snowy mountains off in the distance. If they squinted they could almost see a field of rolling hills and crops far away. They took a moment to just look down at the sight, moving their gaze from one horizon to the other. When they came to Carracosta's house, however, they lingered. The longing from the bedroom came up again, stronger this time. A part of them wanted to stay here with him and put an end to his suffering because she would finally come home—
"Mew?" Aster said.
"Uh, w-what's up?" they said in their best imitation of lightness.
"You're…crying."
"I am?" Mew touched their face and found it to be wet. "Huh. I…I guess I am. But I don't feel sad! Or at least I don't think I do…" They wiped the tears away, but more came to take their place; soon they were weeping in earnest even though they had no real reason to be. Unless…
"You know, this is where it happened," Aster murmured, his eyes glassy. He pointed at a patch of grass not far from where they sat. "She…vanished. Right there."
Mew wondered how it would feel to know someone, to trust them with your life, only to watch as they left you behind. They wondered how it would feel to frolic and laugh and relish the sunlight one day, and then cease to exist the next. As they looked at the site of Vallea's disappearance, the same regret from their trip to the Sunbathed Garden reared its ugly head. Mew knew they'd done nothing wrong. There was no reason to feel this way.
But they did. Something wasn't right.
"Aster?" they asked.
"What is it?"
"I'm sick because there's a piece of Dark Matter stuck in me, right?"
"That's what Xatu says," he murmured.
It took Mew a minute to figure out how to word their question. Sitting up here on the hill they felt dizzier than they ever had before, and a deep anxiety with no clear cause chilled their heart and shook their limbs. "Did Dark Matter care about this village?"
"I…don't think so." He squinted at them. "Why do you ask?"
"Aster," they said, and swallowed. "I don't know what's going on with me, but I don't think—"
Whatever they were going to say was cut short by a sudden blow to the back of their head. They fell face-first onto the grass as consciousness slipped out of reach.
