Eevee walked alongside the wagon down the wide, dirt road, feeling really stressed out with the whole situation. There was too many things to worry about that there wasn't room for anything else. He couldn't even feel any of the usual excitement of going on an adventure.

Though this was hardly an adventure. Some unknown being could take over a person's body and they were trying to kill Sol. That was worry number one. They were going to a place that could save her, but Sol was so stubborn and paranoid that there was a good chance that she was going to do something to mess it all up. She was already doing her best to alienate Eliza. Worry number two.

Jak and Ren had decided that this was a good time to up and leave on their own without so much as a goodbye. They could be in danger, or hurt, or in need of a rescue! Or Jak could have gotten angry again and burned down a forest. And the guild! Sure, they had sent a letter after deciding to go east, but they had no way of telling how things were going back in Treasure Town! What if there was an emergency? Those were worries number three and four.

As for worry number five, that one was a bit more personal. There was a reason Eevee had left his hometown. Treasure Town had been far enough away to escape the stares, the pity and the scorn. No one had heard of his family there. Eevee's brother and his father. His mother.

No, don't think about that, Eevee told himself. Everyone has probably forgotten about it by now. Unless they hadn't. No! Think positive. Positive. Sol is getting better. Healing quickly. Soon she'll be able to defend herself when the- no, think positive! If, not when! She'll be able to defend herself if the mind controlling monster bent on murdering her-

Stop! Not helping, not helping! Eevee already had five worries to stress over, there was no need to add more. Unless he was forgetting one. And then that meant he would be unprepared when something bad happened. And now he was worrying about forgetting to worry. Does that worry get a number? Why not?

Worry number six: forgetting to worry. Ok, was he missing any others?

Eevee stumbled suddenly, tripping over his own feet. His really big feet. His really big feet that he could have sworn were a lot smaller before they had set out for Sky Peak. And that made him remember his once downy fur steadily becoming coarser. Or maybe that was his imagination. He didn't think so, though.

Lucky worry number seven. At least he could actually do something about this one. Eevee had to search through all the stores in Shaymin village before he found what he was looking for shoved in the back of a storeroom, covered in dust. He wasn't sure if it was actually doing anything, but it made him feel better. Not much was able to do that lately.

There was a shuffling from inside the wagon and after a minute of struggle Sol poked her head over the side. She scowled at what she saw. They were well away from the mountains now and nearing the eastern coast, and the closer they got the busier the road became. Travelers unintentionally ended up in clusters all heading in the same direction, moving in large, slow moving packs, trading speed for companionship and safety from the wild Pokemon. Sol wasn't enjoying the noise, the slow pace, or the constant questions of 'what happened to you?!'.

"Eevee, settle an argument for us," she said. "Given the element of surprise, would a group of three be able to beat a camp of twelve?"

"These are disciplined soldiers," Riley said from inside the wagon, out of Eevee's sight. "The surprise would pass quickly, they would rally and they would decimate your troops."

"But they're not simply troops! They're rangers! Not worth much in a pitched battle but masters in ambushing and destroying small groups, even if they are outnumbered. You're soldiers would be wiped out before they knew what was happening."

Sol looked at him expectantly. Eevee didn't really know what he was supposed to say.

"... Twelve is a lot more than three..."

"Fine," Sol huffed, sitting back down in the wagon with a thump. "Forget the full blown assault. I'll just kill them slowly. Hit and run tactics."

"That's not going to work, either. They'll know you're there after the first hit and be aware of later attacks."

"They'll be long gone before the surprise wears off! And then your guys will be jumping at every shadow! All part of my evil plans of global domination!"

Riley sighed and Eevee heard a clinking sound, then what sound as if something had been scattered on the floor of the wagon. There was a pause and then the sounds repeated.

"OH, FOR FUCK SAKES!"

Curiousity piqued and a little wary of what had Sol so worked up, Eevee moved to the back of the wagon and peeked inside. Toy soldiers were arranged across the wagon's floor and atop the supplies, most of them yellow. Eevee couldn't make heads or tails out of most of it. Riley sat on the left side of the wagon and was placing three of the blue figures in a metal box while Sol muttered colourful words beneath her breath on the other side.

"Uh, what's all this?" Eevee asked.

"He's cheating."

"I am not!"

"In what reality does a highly trained spy get caught within the first five minutes?"

"In a properly disciplined army, unusual or suspicious activity is immediately reported and investigated. An unknown soldier appearing from nowhere fits both those descriptions."

"So you're saying that in this army of yours, everyone knows literally everybody else? And what about my scouts? They should have been able to accomplish a whole lot more than you said they could."

"You would have every foot soldier be a hero of legend, capable of impossible feats of lunacy!"

"For the last time, they're not foot soldiers! They're trained to do things foot soldiers can't. That's kind of the whole point of having them! And are you telling me in your ever so disciplined army, there isn't so much as one slacker? Who's being unrealistic now?"

Eevee left them to their bickering. Sol and Riley argued a lot. It reminded Eevee a little of how Sol and Loudred would go on, except instead of pointless competitions they enter equally pointless debates.

They continued on. Eevee was content to walk by himself for a while until the seven worries managed to crawl their way back into his thoughts. He caught sight of Espeon having a loud conversation with a pair of Audino and decided to join them, if only to distract himself.

...

Sol was losing. Badly. But that wasn't her fault. It was Riley and his stupid rules and the penalties and the pieces that should have been much better than they were. What scout fell into their own traps? According to Riley, all of them.

"You didn't invest in enough soldiers," Riley said.

"Shut up about your soldiers already," Sol snapped. "If this was real your army would be weakened, demoralized, under supplied and absolutely terrified to leave camp. I'd have your numbers whittled down to nothing by the time you met my main force."

Riley took his turn, moving a raiding party in place to intercept the last of Sol's scouts. One throw of the dice later and Sol was down another piece.

"There's no way they would know he was there." Riley opened his mouth to speak but Sol cut him off. "And if I have to hear about the wonders of discipline again, I'm throwing my dice at you."

"A force of disciplined-"

Sol hurled her fistful of dice at Riley. They bounced off his chest and were scattered around the wagon floor. Riley didn't say anything, only stared at her, unimpressed.

"...You're going to make me pick them up, aren't you?"

More staring.

"Fine," Sol huffed. She grabbed onto the side of the wagon with her good hand and used it to pull herself up onto her uninjured leg. They didn't really hurt much any more, but moving around was difficult and took forever even when she wasn't on a moving wagon. Keeping one hand on the siding at all times, she hobbled to the front of the wagon to collect the first of the discarded dice.

When Sol hunched over to pick it up, her cast slid on the wood and her foot flew to the side. She threw herself on to the wall of the wagon and stopped herself from falling over completely, but managed to kick half of the the toy soldiers hopelessly out of place.

"That was an accident," Sol quickly said. "I may be a sore loser, but I'm not that much of a sore loser."

Riley didn't say anything, instead squinting his eyes and tilting his head slightly. "...You're... very tall."

"Um, what?"

"You're very tall, but you're collar is very thin."

"My collar?"

Riley touched the ring of yellow fur that started at his neck and spread downwards to just past him armpit. Sol looked down at herself but could only see black and blue fur, no yellow.

"I still have no idea what you're getting at," Sol stated and bent down to pick up the dice, succeeding this time.

Riley just continued to stare at Sol. It was making her uncomfortable. What ever happened to the Riley who couldn't even glance in her general direction?

"So... Another round?"

Riley blinked and was snapped out of where ever his thoughts had gone. His eyes turned down to the floor, suddenly self conscious.

"Alright," he said after a pause.

Sol shuffled towards the back of the wagon, scooping up stray die. Riley still wasn't moving, staring down at the floor either in embarrassment or lost in thought once more. As weird as ever, Sol thought. At least he doesn't flinch whenever I look at him. I would have thought after learning I was human he'd be even more-

"Shit!" Sol screeched after stepping on an unnoticed toy soldier. Her foot jumped up away from the pain, putting all her weight on her cast encased leg. "Shit!" Pain shot up her leg and her arms scrambled wildly for something to grab onto to stop her fall. Her injured arm whacked against the side of the wagon. "SHIT!" Sol fell and landed on her shoulder on the floor of the wagon, only to roll over and fall out the back onto road.

"...Shit," Sol coughed.

Sol's injuries had been quickly healing and she hadn't felt any pain from them for a long while. That time was over. Sol missed that time. A lot. Pain spasmed down her leg and her arm, her ribs were aching, and all she could do was lie facedown in the hard packed snow and wait for it to pass.

"My goodness! Do you need help?!"

Sol slowly twisted her head to the side and looked up through twisted side. It took a second for her vision to focus, and then it was like someone had punched her in the gut on top of everything else.

Sol stared at Grovyle. Grovyle stared at her. Sol wondered if she had gone crazy. From the concerned expression now turning to discomfort, Grovyle was wondering the same thing.

"Are you... are you ok?"

Sol blinked and reality regained its grip. He wasn't Grovyle, and he was actually a she. A she who was trying to help but who Sol was quickly weirding out.

"Um, yes, would you mind helping me up?"

Riley had frozen half out of the wagon when the Grovyle had shown up, but was quick to jump out and help get Sol back on her feet. The Tauros pulling the wagon had stopped at the sound of the commotion. With some difficulty he was able to twist around to see what was going on behind him, huffed in annoyance, then waited impatiently for them to get sorted out so they could continue.

"What happened to you, anyway?" the Grovyle asked once Sol was back on her feet.

"Too much to tell in a short conversation," Sol said.

"Oh, well, I should go..."

"Thanks for the help."

The Grovyle went to leave but didn't even make it a foot away before suddenly spinning back around.

"Wait!" she said, suddenly excited. She stepped in close to Sol, getting right in her face and studied her with one yellow eye. Sol had to stifle the urge to push her away. "Are... are you Sol?"

"Um, yes?"

"Oh my goodness! It's you! I should have known right away!" The Grovyle was almost shaking with excitement. "Is it true what they say? That you can see the future?! Can you see mine? The articles didn't really go into much detail, but you just sound awesome! I'll be right back, please don't go anywhere!"

The Grovyle ran off, leaving Sol wondering what the Hell just happened.

...

Sol had a fan club. That was equal parts cool and disturbing. They hovered around the wagon, sometimes working up enough courage and nerve to try to peek inside at their believed hero. A lot of them had copies of newspapers they wanted Sol to sign, which was awkward given that Sol could barely even stumble through reading footprint runes, never mind write in them. The first time it happened, when the Grovyle had come running back, Sol had, without thinking, automatically scribbled something closely resembling the Unknown runes she had read in the Hidden Lands. That had earned her some odd stares, but Sol had come up with a story that it was a secret way of writing that seers used, and no she couldn't teach it to them because it was secret.

Riley had bailed at some point. Sol had turned around he was gone. That Riolu was as bad as Jak when it came to crowds and even worse when it came to talking to people. Uncomfortable with the constant stream of strangers passing by, he had simply abandoned her.

A colourful ball arced through the air and landed in the middle of the wagon. Sol rolled her eyes and mere seconds later a young face popped up at the back of the wagon.

"Your eyes really are- I mean, sorry to bother you, but my ball landed-"

"Here," Sol said with a small smirk and tossed it to him. She'd see that ball again in a few minutes.

"Thank you," he looked off to the side, keeping up with the wagon and making no move to leave. "Can you see my future?" he eventually sputtered.

"Just let me consult the powers that be," Sol said, raising her arms into the air and closing her eyes. "...Hmm..."

"What is it?" he whispered, worried.

"... You will live and long and prosperous life. As a detective. Or an accountant. Whatever you're better at. But only if you eat all your broccoli, because it is delicious and I have no idea where its bad reputation came from."

"Oh, ok, I will!" He ran off. Sol waited for the next one, which took no time at all.

"Good fortune awaits you but only if you stop being a dick. And by that I mean you shouldn't push people over so you can get somewhere first. Yes, I saw what you did."

"A danger lurks in your future. Be sure to follow my directions or face mild annoyance. Don't pet the wild life, if a path keeps taking you back to the beginning you should stop taking it, and avoid the colour beige. The last one is just a personal preference."

"Hmm... I see something dark waiting for you. It's circling, just waiting- no, it's something good! It's, it's cake! Lots and lots of delicious cake! Please don't cry."

"You need to calm down before something bad happens. No, seriously, breathe. If you suddenly keel over I'll have no idea what I'm supposed to do."

This was kind of fun. Probably morally wrong and going to bite her in the ass later, but fun. It became apparent to Sol that it was her Dimensional Scream that they were fans of, not her. That was fine by Sol. Better, actually. Things were going great, Sol was having some fun, people were told their futures would be comfortable if not downright awesome, but then the question was finally asked.

"What happened to Dusknoir?"

Sol's smile froze and suddenly this no longer felt like a game. People were crowded around the wagon now, all subtlety forgotten, and they all waited eagerly for her response. Dusknoir was the great hero they all worshiped. Sol was just the sidekick with a neat party trick who happened to be around. Of course they would want to talk about him.

"Well, um, you see..."

Sol couldn't think of what to say. She couldn't tell the truth. They would tear her to pieces if she dared slandered their hero. She couldn't echo the lie found in the papers. The very words stuck in her throat.

"... time is a complicated thing and very dangerous... Circumstances even I did not foresee arose, and we were all swept up in... events. And sometimes, when events happen, not everyone is left standing in the end. Sometimes they manage to get back up... sometimes not... for better or for worse. And then the next event happens, and how well you managed to stay on your feet before is completely irrelevant and the ones who were teetering before are the best off now while the statues come crumbling down. And the one you relied on to hold you up is gone and then you're falling, and then not just falling but being pushed, and you try really hard not to fall but it doesn't matter because your support is now trying to kill you and that really messes you up in ways you don't even fully know until you suddenly realizing you're ranting nonsense in front of a crowd of strangers who are looking at you like you've gone insane because you quite possibly maybe have and I'm going to stop now."

There was a long, awkward silence. Sol dreaded the moment when their silent stares would turn into accusations and condemnations.

"That was deep," one of them finally said. The others nodded in wide eyed agreement.

What. The fuck.

"When someone you look up to falls, it really can feel you're being pulled down with them. You lean on them for support one moment and the next they're just... gone. It must have been terrible to go through."

"To witness the end of the great Dusknoir... I'd understand why that would be hard to talk about."

"He went out a hero, saving us all."

Sol should have just told the whole truth and let them tear her apart. It would have been less painful.

"... Peering into the great depths of the future is... very taxing," Sol said. "I need some time to rest. By myself. Without any of you around."

It took a while, but eventually the crowd dispersed, some taking it better than others. They didn't go far, though, and a quick peek over the side of the wagon would reveal a great number of Pokemon hanging around, eyes frequently drawn back to the wagon, all keeping close pace.

But Sol didn't look. She waited for the trip to be over. This wasn't fun anymore.

...

Eevee watched from a short distance away, chewing on his lip. It looked like things were going well, but now... worry number eight, he supposed.

He spotted Eliza, watching as he was. Her expression looked like it was punched out of steel and she radiated disapproval. Worry number nine? He was starting to lose track.