They say that every person has a story.

This story though, this story must start with another. In a region that most don't know yet many do. Cryptic yes, but every story must start somewhere.

So where do we start?

A small little house, or at the very least small for it's denizens. It's a large enough building, all things considered. Poorly taken care of though and far from anyone. It's a place that would make most people crazy. All except for a few. Our story starts as some might.

With a little girl and a very large gentleman.

"Grandpa! Tell me the story again?"

Lights flicker in tune with a cacophonous earth rattling. Clay and compact dirt thud on top of a bent knee as the teal accented golem looks fondly around the room. It's nothing special, just a small room. Or rather a large room that looks quite small to him. People like him, they didn't shrink with age like they should. The room had a few belongings. A carpet, well worn yet dusty. A large armchair facing the fireplace. A wall lined with bookshelves, each containing a story of someone long ago.

"You always love that story huh? Fine, fine, I'll tell it to you again. But promise me that you'll sleep okay? Wouldn't want to tucker out your mother again."

" I promise Grandpa!"

The shadows in the room grow and twist as pale flames shrink until they are naught but pinpricks. In return, a separate glow. One much larger as the girl clamoring for one last story, she promises! A singular glowing red light that passes back and forth between the eyeholes of her mask. Though in her case...it's not a mask.

He coughs, a loud booming thud that rattles his earthen ribcage.

"A-"

"Can we skip that part grandpa! Every story starts with a long time ago!"

For someone with a skull mask and no apparent lower jaw, the girl sure is talkative.

"I thought you wanted me to tell you the story?"

"Yeah...but I want to skip the boring parts! Get to the fun stuff, get to the fun stuff!"

"Kids these days…."

His head shakes as he laughs to himself.

"Okay, okay. I'll get to the fun stuff."

"There was a little girl, not much older than you are my dear. She was sickly."

"How sick was she grandpa?"

"Very sick. Deathly ill all the time. Her parents were always worried."

"What did they sound like grandpa?"

"Her mother would wail 'My little girl is sick! Sick! She is always so sweaty!'"

There was a pause to allow the skull girl to laugh. There was always one around this time, something about his gruff voice attempting a falsetto being comical. Humph.

"Her father would beg and plead with doctors. 'My little girl! Help my little girl!'"

His voice didn't deepen, his natural tone enough to reach that register. Rather he recalled the man, that man had a lighter voice, though that was in the man's years on death's doorstep.

"In the end though, the doctors didn't know what was wrong with their sweet little girl. Their sweaty little girl."

"She would hide all day?"

"She would hide all day, yes, in a little corner. Then one day she grew tired. She wanted to face the morning sun once more."

"She ran outside right?"

"Yes sweet pea, she ran outside to face the morning sun."

"The towns folk that day bore witness to an amazing sight. A small little girl emerged from her house into the village. There was no sun, just pouring rain. The village people stopped and stared as light wrapped around this girl. Water and sweat and light swirling as the little sickly girl no longer stood in front of them. But someone much larger. Hair buns encased in snail shells. Twin tails made of slime. Green cheeks."

"She evolved into a Goodra!"

"Yes sweet pea, a Goodra. She was first of our kind."

"...they were scared of her right papa?"

"Of course my dear, they were scared. Pokémon had long since been part of us, yet no one had been part Pokémon. She was the first."

"...didn't they...?"

"Aye, they chased her off. They chased her until she couldn't run anymore. But they had long since given up, the monster chased away to a small hill. There she lay, days upon days. Days to weeks. Weeks to months."

"She was scared right grandpa?"

"Of course she was. She cried days upon days. Yet she seemed fine, that cave she was in had managed to keep her alive."

"And then!"

"A hand reached out to save her. Her princess charming."

"Yay!"

"Why are you excited? You've heard this story before sweet pea."

"Because princess charming is cool!"

His head shakes one more, the stories progress mirroring his granddaughter's own shifting body. From what was across the room and running with all the energy in the world to in his lap, though still with that same energy. She was always upbeat, that single eye pulsating in joy.

Though right now?

There was a bit of exhaustion, that singular red pupil altering, drooping at two sides.

"C'mon grandpa!"

YAWN

"Tell…the rest of…the story!"

It's a simple effort to pick her up, his large gauntlets picking up the cuddly ghoul. Stomping once, twice, and gone into the wind.

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