It was a momentous day for Sunstarch Village.
It was the day the eldest pokémon of basic schooling accepted their burden: to ensure their village's survival in the face of waning supplies. At the crack of dawn, before the sun poked over the horizon, every trade made itself obvious near the schoolyard. Working tirelessly, as always, but in view of these blank canvasses. Today the traders and their carriages met the backs of several pokémon, an empty square, and the hope of whisking away a child to help alleviate their own toils.
And Doggy, with his hastily-chosen companion, a sleeping quilava, peeked out at the carts from underneath the porch of Sunstarch's single inn.
He squinted, looking them over. One in particular seemed most like an escort: a large tauros, his carriage empty and fitted with brown leather benches on each side: the perfect space for transporting smaller creatures to Pathen. The tauros looked around at the other traders and made a comment, prompting a laugh out of the crowd.
A bibarel laughed so hard his belly shook. "Right, right, we're the hopeful ones!" He cried out, loud enough for Doggy to hear. Above him, someone in the inn growled at the presence of noise this early in the morning. "You should have taken the day's rest, Tello. No one from this village plans on going to Pathen."
"Did you ever imagine," Tello replied, "that circumstances can't hold a leash on a critter ready to be a painter or an adventurer?"
Doggy's heart did a flip. He prodded the quilava with his nose. "Hey, you, wake up. Our ride is… what's so funny?"
The quilava grinned. "I had a good dream last night. Before, it was all nightmares. Then I slept next to you, and it was wonderful. I had a dream we were in a gigantic city, and it was full of towers-"
"Save it. We need to get going." Doggy grabbed his bag of money. He breathed in deep through the weave of the pouch, taking in the smell of metal. "Hey!" He called, springing out from under the inn. "Over here, we would like to go to Pathen!"
The tauros, Tello, gaped.
"Lad, did you crawl out from under the inn?"
Another voice called, and he turned away from the pair.
Grain, her own payment ready to go, stopped a few steps short of the carriage. "Hey, bull, we'd like passage—Doggy? Doggy..."
"Huh," the bibarel said, shrugging. "I'll be damned. Good call, Tello."
Liv looked around. He spotted the quilava, also backing away from the standoff, and went to join him.
The growltihe tensed up. "We got here first. Get your own cart!"
"I will cut your belly open, so you're too busy putting your guts back in the right place to go anywhere. Where did you get the money? Did momma give it you?"
"My parents," Doggy answered. "But I earned it."
"Aw, the wittle puppy hasn't weaned off of momma. Momma's perfect baby-waby was so cute and scrumptious, he got an a-wow-ance. Liv, Doggy's momma gave him an a-wow-ance."
All the insults did was remind Doggy of Grace. She would return from her outing—or might have gotten back already, which scared him—and see her child gone. He reminded himself of how she brought it on herself, and how punitive he was being, but how it was necessary, but how it hurt so, so much to hurt her like this, and he started to tear up again.
Liv looked at the two and laid down. "Mom's milk? How shameful," he said, half-invested.
Grain smiled. "Right you are! You gonna cry, puppy? Run home to your magical home in the forest. Liv and I are supposed to be Sunstarch's adventurers. Get out. Get out, idea-stealer!"
"Fine," Doggy mumbled. "Just shut up."
"I agree," Tello cried out. "Oh, by Arceus, by my poor, aging, addled brains, why have I deigned to transport children as a living? There is room enough for all of you, two to a side. You can face the other way or point your noses up to the ceiling, I don't mind much."
"Hey," Doggy said, turning to the quilava, "let's see if we can find another carriage."
The quilava's ears flattened against his head. "Oh. He says there is enough room. It would make me comfortable to have others along."
"Oh, I'm not company enough, is that it? Come on."
"We might not be able to hide from her any longer, though. This is our chance."
"Not worth it. You go ahead." Tail between his legs, Doggy began to inspect the other options. Perhaps he could hitch a ride with a merchant.
"Wait," Grain called as he walked away. "You, quilava, tell me your name. I've never seen you around before. I had no idea Doggy knew anyone outside of school."
The quilava stopped in his tracks. "Name?"
"Name? Name?" She repeated in a blubbering, mocking voice. "Don't tell me—you must be related to Doggy."
"I, um..."
"Upright," Doggy answered. "Since he walks everywhere on his hind legs."
The quilava looked down at his legs, then back at Doggy, with a look that said "this isn't normal?"
Liv stepped forward. "It must be a nickname, then. Unless his parents showed remarkable foresight."
"Another stupid forest-creature who won't give out his real name," Grain said. "Yup, part of the ol' Doggy household."
"He has amnesia," Doggy said. "He can't remember his name, nor what happened. It's like I said, I saved a pokémon from drowning yesterday."
"Not exactly your words," Liv said, eyes widening. The word he had used then was human. "Er, nice to meet you, Upright. Sorry about your amnesia. I'd say you chose a nice place to wake up but, well, it would be ironic to say as we all sneak out at the crack of dawn."
Upright nodded approvingly at the name and story. "I want to go to Pathen to see if anyone recognizes me. Maybe become an Adventurer otherwise. Please, I think we can coexist if we put our minds to it."
Grace scowled at Doggy, who returned it twofold. For a moment, her expression eased. "Fine. But you two pay for the inn. Your money bag is way fuller than ours."
Upright gave Doggy a hopeful smile. The growlithe looked up to the sky and stomped his paws.
"Sure, let's do it. I like the idea of Grain owing me."
Tello groaned lough enough to grab their attention. "Just show me my two-thousand poké a head and come aboard, before I decide to leave you all here to throw your fits. It'll be a one-week trip, so be ready for hours on end of this room."
They did so. Just being near the shinx made Doggy's hackles rise. As the tauros suggested, he took a seat in the far left corner and pointed his nose to the roof. Beside Grain being in it, the leather felt cool and the air, though a little hot, was decent, considering they were in what amounted to an ornate box.
She slammed her bag of supplies down on his tail. He yelped and moved over to the other side.
"Watch my tail," He growled.
"Your tail is bushy and stupid," Grain said. "Unlike mine, which is thin and beautiful. It can also do this." She whacked him in the head with the star at the end of her tail. The growlithe swatted at it, yelling insults.
"You must have a death-wish," Liv said to Upright. "Are you sure you want to sit through a week of this?"
"I was scared out of my mind about this the other night," he said. "But I had a good dream. Nothing will bring me down."
Outside, Tello was shouting at someone. The pokémon approached in spite of the protests and wrenched open the right window. The children felt the breeze and looked up.
Daté poked his head in.
"Going somewhere?" He asked.
Grain's tail fell limp and she pushed herself into the wall. Doggy gaped, also trying his best to shrink into nothingness.
When Upright saw the grovyle, he decided to scream bloody murder. Everyone—Liv included, even so he only knew Daté from Grain's stories—began to scream in turn. It took Tello coming around to the back to remedy the situation. It took a couple minutes more to stop the panting, the shaking and the whining. A couple more to convince Tello to not cancel the trip. It mattered little, though. Daté caught them.
Doggy stood out in the fresh air. He couldn't believe it. This close to freedom, and a single argument ruined their chances.
"Grace is sick with worry," Daté said.
Doggy nodded. "I know."
"She thinks you've gone already and took the quilava with you."
"I was close to it. It's just… Upright says Grace told him all these awful stories about the Initiative, basically bullied him into agreeing to stay. And I can't argue with her or I end up feeling guilty for even trying. This was the best way to leave."
The grovyle stepped away from the carriage. He looked out at Sunstarch, towards the other students who had begun to seek out apprenticeships. Several of them had seen children by the carts and now their parents watched. To see if their small vilalge had managed, somehow, to produce four adventurers.
Daté walked over to the tauros. "Pardon my intrusion," he said.
Tello moaned. "My poor, poor brain… kids can put a loudred to shame."
"I am going to give you an extra thousand poké per head. In return, enter the Warm Woods due south of the normal entry. As of right now, it is too perilous to bring adventurers in through the main road."
Doggy's eyes widened. Daté is letting us go… he's letting us go!
With a happy cry, the growlithe ran up to the grovyle and leaned against him. An arm wrapped around the growltihe: it was pure joy.
"I don't accept directions," Tello said. "Easy enough way to get ambushed by the critter who gives them."
"I am paying you money to take a safer route for a child I… appreciate. Accept the money. I know you need it."
Tello sighed. "You are world-wary, grovyle. East Territory ousted the elderly drivers from their towns. Just up and refused to hire us, no reason why, but I can see I no longer am the looker I lied about being upon a time."
"It is dangerous nowadays. So take the money or retire."
"Fine, Arceus damn you. I promise to take your route and money. Usually I would show a young thing like you his place. But this trip here is to enjoy the roads a final time. Then its out to pasture." The tauros looked at the ground, contemplating. "Won't this screaming batch leave me regretful."
Doggy whimpered. "Oh… sorry..."
"That's right, I'm going out to better pastures. Out to the pastures of the farm I bought! Hee-hee, get your behind in the carriage, we're burning daylight, this old bull's got it in him for decades yet."
Doggy marched forward, not quite getting the joke. Daté's hand stopped him. An image swirled within the icy orb. He shuddered away from it, but his eyes refused to leave its sapphire allure. Inside seemed to be the perpetual fury of a rainstorm.
"When you arrive in Pathen," Daté said, "stay awake till midnight. Place this orb somewhere decent."
"Somewhere decent. It looks expensive."
"Priceless. No slums or garbage heaps." He gave one of his customary nods. "It's been… nice talking to you, Doggy. Get a move-on."
Doggy embraced the grovyle one more time before running up the ramp.
"You tried to sic your guardian on me," Grain said. There wasn't even time to find a seat before the harassment started. "One more time for the road, I guess. I assumed he was going to become an adventurer for you. Eat for you, too-"
"Please," Upright said, paws raised. "Coexist."
The shinx huffed and looked out the window. Liv took the other side, nose pressed against the glass.
"Cried a pokémon—the linoone's mother, it seemed. "Be safe."
"I will," Liv called back.
Then the father called out. "Send money back."
"I will."
"Tell the city-folk we need reparations on the trade-roads into Sunstarch!"
"Yes, father."
"Send a letter back detailing what produce will be selling in Pathen this Spring."
"Of course..."
"You're not going to be able to see your family through that window, Grain," Upright said. "Liv, let her borrow yours."
Liv glanced back, shook his head. Grain continued to stare out the window which only contained the inn and empty houses. She gritted her teeth.
"This is going to sound bad," Doggy said to Upright. He sniffed the air. "I wish I could take a dip in this pond."
The quilava frowned. "I'm not going to rescue you."
Doggy feigned disappointment and rolled over onto his back. Clouds drifted over the Territorial Floodplains, long white streaks as opposed to the gray stormclouds over Sunstarch. Tello told them this was the last trip before winter, where the snow would cause floods. Seeing his forest home submerged had been an experience. The idea of this unending expanse flooding over seemed ridiculous. But, he thought, I'd be fine washing off that way, too.
"Dirt caked on my paws," Doggy whined, "dirt in my fur, dirt in my mouth, somehow. It feels like my head has dirt floating in it."
Upright whined in agreement and leaned in, whispering. "I-I'm not sure if I can get used to this. I feel disgusting. Every day it gets worse and worse, and I can't get used to it. Grr." The hackles on his back rose. "I'm ashamed of this body. I'm ashamed of myself—huh?" Several slits on the back of his neck opened. Doggy moved away from the warm breeze gusting out of them. It took just a moment, but by the end the quilava was gasping for air. "W-What was that? Why did I just breathe out of my neck?"
"Those are vents," Doggy said. "When your powers quicken, you can use them to blow fire. I guess you got emotional and triggered them."
"Uh-huh."
"I have some too. In my mouth and ankles. Se-ee-e?" He opened wide, showing of the pocket of flesh which, when Arceus gave him his powers, would fold downwards to release plumes of fire. But, after seeing Upright's own vents, he grew uncomfortable. They were about the same age, yet Doggy hadn't quickened yet. "They're not supposed to open before you quicken—wait-a-sec." His eyes lit up. "So, so cool. Try shooting fire."
"W-Wow. No thanks."
"Don't be a sissy. You feel ashamed, right? Do something you'll be proud of."
The quilava gritted his teeth. Doggy had no idea how to focus fire, nor where to send it. Yet Upright, despite having his body for less than a week, fell into a state of deep concentration. His jowls started to shake as the vents opened again, this time producing a noticeable hiss. He opened his jaw—click, click, click.
Doggy dove out of the way. But the fire didn't start from the quilava's jaw: it erupted from his neck. The fire wreath flickered. Even several feet back Doggy felt its intense heat.
"You did it" Doggy started, awestruck. I wonder if succeeding on the first-try means anything, he thought. "Does it hurt?"
Upright grinned from ear to ear. "I..." the fire flared. "It feels so comfortable. Yet, at the same time, I can't help but feel these butterflies in my stomach. Like I am letting more things in than I am letting things out and even then, I have this sensation like I'm about to burst. I… I feel hotter than the sun. I just want to let it all pour out!"
Doggy backed away a few steps. "Hey, simmer down. Don't go razing the plains."
Several ports opened up on Upright's back, hissing like the ones on his neck did before they released fire.
"I'm going to explode!" Upright shouted, swatting the air. "H-Here it comes—yipe!"
Grain flew onto the quilava without warning. Her head slammed against Upright's chest, and the quilava flew straight into the pond. Part-by-part the flames died down as the pokémon screamed and writhed, remembering the last time he had been forced into the water.
Doggy stood at the pond's edge, too stunned to move. Upright managed to flail enough to find dry land and flopped onto it. He breathed in short wheezes, rubbing mud all over himself in appreciation of solid land.
"Hey!" Doggy shouted. "Grain... of all the insensitive pranks, this takes the cake. Grr…" he showed off his fangs. "I don't care if you're bigger or quickened, I'm going to tear you apart."
"I-It's okay," Upright coughed. "I needed a good soak."
"What?"
Grain huffed. "However could the great and mighty Doggy forget about the effects of quickening? Oh, right, you haven't quickened yet. Ten years old and not a lick of fire in that mutt body of yours." She extended a paw to Upright. They worked together, and Upright was out of the pond in no time. "Usually, using your power causes it to wane until you rest for a bit. When you're quickening, though, the power keeps ramping up, regardless of if you want to use them or not. Any longer, and your friend might have hurt himself. Fire pokémon can sear their insides if they go too far."
Liv poked his head into the group. "i remember Grain's quickening. She lit up Sunstarch's nights for weeks."
"And I remember Liv's." Grain chuckled. "The idiot bit everything. One time, he went into this fugue state and went scavenging for a deer carcass he sniffed out. It was a good quarter-mile away."
"I had to take on wood-carving to sate my instincts," Liv admitted. "And the carcass didn't taste good. Dociles have life all wrong, meat is better cooked."
Doggy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and pushing him into the water was the one solution. Admit it, Grain, you wanted to scare him."
"No I didn't," Grain growled. "I wanted to save him from a stupid part of growing up. Gr… oh… wing up." She enunciated every syllable. "You might have heard of it."
Upright sighed. "I feel so embarrassed. I haven't been so filthy, so out-of-order, ever. Ever, ever. I don't know when or how, but I let myself go."
His words earned him a cuff from Grain. Doggy lurched forward, growling. "Quit the self-loathing," she said. "Your dirt and fire means nothing till you give them meaning. All that shame? It comes from up here." She ruffled the quilava's soggy head. "I'd call you an idiot, but it might be the amnesia. You've forgot your pride."
"I have," Upright said, raising his chin up high. "Yeah, I forgot my pride. I'll do my best going forward!"
"I like you. Keep this up, and maybe I don't drop you like a hot potato the moment we get to Pathen. Because, let's face it: stink however you like, your choice of company makes my nose crinkle."
"Doggy is kind," Upright said. "If it wasn't for him, I would be in Sunstarch still. Give him a chance instead of mocking him all the time."
All the while, Doggy's paws sank deeper into the mud. He snarled so hard his chest thrummed. "I don't want a chance from her. She pushed you in as a joke, and tricked you into thanking her for it. She manipulated you like she does to Liv."
The linoone balked. "Oh. Uncalled for, Doggy."
"I didn't do it to be mean," Grain said.
"You did. At least in Sunstarch you were an honest bully..."
Two days, Doggy remembered. If I can't handle her for seven days, do I deserve to be an adventurer? In the world, there were worse creatures than this shinx. I just don't want her taking Upright from me. I've never been so close to anyone… knew so much about anyone.
And yet he knew nothing. Doggy cut his insult short. The quilava nodded his approval.
"Hey," Tello called, charging forward from his grazing spot by the carriage. "The pond-water is stagnant, and also the last gulp for any travelers heading in before winter. You think critters want to drink from a sullied pond?"
Upright shook his head. "No, never-"
"You're wet. Look here: over time, you gain an immunity to wear and tear. Your pelt shuns spiff after awhile, so don't give in to habits and go diving into our drinking water."
"I was pushed..."
"Sure, sure. Time for dinner. Jerky and hardtack; good luck eating it, pups."
The four ate together in silence. Doggy traded off trying to sink his teeth into the jerky and hardtack, unable to tear off either. They were tougher than a sycamore tree. He took a peek over at Grain. The other three pokémon were having an easier time. All seemed to be emulating the shinx, who sawed her teeth through the food.
Furious to have been snubbed, Doggy doubled down on his own strategy. He tore into the jerky with a monstrous bite. There was a morsel of seasoning in the strip of leather.
It doesn't matter, he told himself. I've always eaten alone, anyway. And if Upright wants to befriend a jerk, that's his choice. See if she helps him return to his world.
I've always eaten alone echoed in his head. Doggy shoved the food away: he had lost his appetite for the evening.
After dinner, everyone settled down to their own hobbies. For Grain, it was a nap. For Liv and Upright, it was nestling up to a fire, the quilava watching Liv chew on something. At first it seemed Doggy wasn't the only one to have trouble chewing, but as the growlithe circled around, it turned out the linoone's food was, in reality, a wood block.
Curiosity got the better of Doggy. Or, the hunger he shunned earlier came back, and company in the empty plains became irresistible. He came forward slowly to not scare the linoone.
"Hey," he said, "what are you doing?"
Liv raised his teeth from the block and spat out a splinter. "Making a carving of Kyogre."
The growlithe turned his head to the side.
"Er, guardian of the great ocean, bringer of fertility, rain deity, father of suicune, brother of articuno, harbinger of the depths inside of those who bear the affinity of water, master of all that is and all that will be unfathomable."
Doggy pretended to understand his rambling. "I, uh, know who he is. Never took you to be devout."
"Each figurine sells for fifty poké. I earned this trip by selling these."
Upright nodded. "He gave me a finished one, look." In his paws was an immaculate carving of Moltres. Doggy's first thought was that teeth couldn't make something so fine. Its pose gave off power. Its eyes, just rounded, empty bits of wood, transformed into fiery gems, the longer Doggy was held by its gaze. Liv had painstakingly worked down to the smallest detail, to the sharp edges of fire billowing from Moltres's wings.
"He says it will keep me from losing my temper. Do-" Upright adopted the look of a creature tumbling through a briar patch-"you need one? Oops—want! Do you want one?" Upright hugged the figurine, smiling abashedly.
"These aren't free," Liv said. "I gave you a complementary one. I don't have a clue how humans live, but it looks like you're having it rough."
Upright dropped the figurine. He scooped it up before sparks from the fire got to it.
"Grain didn't say, but episodes like yours only happen under duress. Maybe an idol will help ease you into our way of life. By the way: I won't tell a soul. Neither will Grain, for the sheer reason neither of us want to look insane. But, nonetheless, that was a discount for a friend."
Doggy's chest tightened up. "Oh..."
"I sympathize with you, understand why you are hesitant to trust us. Your behavior so far, though, I find abrasive. And you're loud. I reserve my right to pick my friends, travelling companions notwithstanding. It's okay if we don't match up. There will be plenty of pokémon in Pathen. Maybe if I got to know you better-for now, it's fifty poké or you can pray to the Legendary's constellations tonight."
"I think you're wrong," Upright said. "You have to put in an effort to know someone. You can't just, just… observe people."
"People. Pee-oh-pole." Liv tried the word, rolling it over on his tongue. "Neat. Anyway. This isn't a hobby for me. If I'm not making a profit, the magic goes away."
Doggy interrupted with a bitter laugh. "Oh, okay. If this isn't a hobby, why are you doing it, huh? Why?!"
Liv stopped gnawing on the wooden block. "Because it helps me relax. These wood figurines, they have value. Every sale could feed me for a day. Well..." he smiled. "This isn't true. Er, it's true but not the point."
Doggy scratched his ears. This explanation was worse than their roundabout path through the floodplains. He bit down a complaint. Two days left, Doggy reminded himself. For whatever reason, Grain has been remarkably quiet besides the encounter at the pond. Don't blow things out of proportion this close to the goal.
"What's the point, Liv?" Doggy asked—in his best measured tone.
"I really love money," Liv said, hunching down. He grinned guiltily. "I love spending it, I love having it, most of all, I love earning it. When I get to the Initiative, it's not about adventuring to me, no, it's about money."
Grain popped up from her nap. The shinx turned her head to the side, quiet but with her mouth hung open, ready to say something. Then she slammed her paws into the dirt.
"Seriously!" Grain cried. "Of all the greedy, stupid comments to say out loud… it's not about adventuring. Yes it is. Maybe your dull mind can't make the connection."
Liv balked. "I was, um, kidding around. Sorry."
How did she not know about Liv's motives? Doggy wondered. I thought these two were thicker than thieves. In the schoolyard Liv never abandoned Grain for long. When it was the advent days of Grain's bullying, and she still deigned to rub Doggy's face in the dirt, Liv stood by her side looking out for the teacher. The linoone didn't speak up once while his friend pummeled the other pups at school, bullied them to tears. The times Fab caught Grain in the act, sending her to brood alone in a fenced-off pen, Liv answered her beckons over to the lonely corner so it was never an actual punishment. How does Grain get a follower like him, and I get nobody?!
"You know," Doggy said, sitting down, pawing at his eyes, "this is stupid. Grain, you joined because you love making other pokémon feel awful. So, so what if Liv joined for money? In my books you're both vicious. I'm sick of pretending—not just that, I've put in a real effort—to be chummy with you two because we're going to be adventurers! Well, once we are, don't bother talking to me. And you can go ahead and take Upright with you... Upright?"
Upright climbed into the carriage and shut the door. The silhouette of his head poked out from behind the screen.
"Come now," Tello called from his grazing place. "Don't scrap. Ain't able to tell you how awkward it is to sit in a tight cart after a squabble."
It was too late to talk down Grain. Even Liv—less perturbed by the comment—failed to block her path.
"You think you know everything, huh?" Grain asked, moving forward. "Here's a shocker: no one asked you to be nice to us. Not all of us lead nifty lives like yours. All… all easy, comfy. For us real world kids, whenever grownups try to make the Territory seem spiffy, we know it isn't. Your parents told the same lies I bet, but you were too dumb to figure them out. Until now, maybe, I don't know."
Doggy recoiled. It was right on the mark.
"Liv and I were stuck preparing for life in the Territory, while you kept being you. Money matters in the Territory, as does strength… you never faced the fact these things don't mix well with being chummy. You stupid, idiotic…"
Doggy leaned in. He gave up his fighting pose. "Grain. You're crying."
The shinx stopped her march, sitting down in a patch of grass. Tears formed in the corner of her eyes. "I decided to become an adventurer because I can't live that life a second longer. I'm not here to hurt you. And Liv, you don't really want more money, right? What if you could live a life where money wasn't important?"
Liv sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know about any of this, Grain. It's possible."
"And the quilava hiding like a-" she laughed-"like a scaredy-cat in the carriage. I'd bet anything he left to avoid whatever waited for him in Sunstarch. You did, too, Doggy." Grain looked the growlithe in the eyes. "Please. Don't say all this is so I can bully more pokémon. Let me enjoy this."
The plains grew quiet as the sun descended. Again came the orange glow. It shone on each and every one of the pokémon in the campsite, and all the pokémon traveling within the miles of visible land. They passed, no more than orange shapes, their motives and lives indistinguishable.
"You are so full of it," Doggy spat. "All the time."
The moment he said it, Grain turned tail and fled to the carriage. Liv, giving Doggy an angry glance, also scurried inside after the shinx, and a shrill conversation started inside the leather room. To Doggy's surprise, Upright didn't retreat from the yelling, instead, his voice soon came in among the others.
Doggy walked up to the door, frustrated at being snubbed once again. It was locked.
"Fine!" He barked. "I'll sleep outside tonight!"
Even their driver gave him a look-over. "Lad," the tauros said, shaking his great head. "the cat only wishes to know something better."
"Yeah. And what if I know she doesn't deserve it?"
"Over a childhood rivalry."
"R-Right. Except these are our lives, not our childhoods. You're too old to understand."
The tauros lifted himself from the grass with a grunt. "I comprehend it, child, no doubt about that. I've seen slivers of light in dark pokémon. Much like the sunset, the light makes those creatures it touches incomprehensible till dawn comes the next day. Speaking from experience, those like your shinx will have changed for the better. Do not a-fear the change, lad."
All at once, Doggy slumped over with the burden of a full day's journey. He didn't have it in him to wonder at the world, or even "a-fear" its changes. A seedling grew in his head of what an adventurer experienced: the most beautiful, awe-inspiring sights, the greatest stories, and the constant reminder that nothing would ever be simple again.
Doggy found a spot in a thick patch of grass. He closed his eyes and slept, fitfully, as the memory of Grain's eyes before she fled curdled his stomach.
By dawn, Doggy steeled himself for traveling in the carriage with the other three. The tauros, shooting him sly glances, helped usher him up the ramp. Inside it smelt of dander, and Doggy crinkled his nose, ready to ask if they could clean up before going. Then he looked at Liv, Upright, Grain, all of them seeming like they wanted to get a move-on.
He almost chose to ask anyway. His eyes found Grain, paws up on the seat, staring out the window. Through the window, and with her yellow eyes, she could have watched Doggy writhe in his sleep.
"Let's go," the growlithe muttered, humbled by the realization.
After some preparation, the carriage took off. Doggy found a corner for himself and focused on the rumbles of the cart.
"So," Liv said, breaking the silence. "What will Pathen be like?"
Upright perked up. "I'm, um, curious as well. Will there actually be thousands of pokémon?"
"I believe so. Lots of business."
"In the meantime," Upright added, with pep leaking into his voice, "we can imagine it."
"Imagine it?" Grain asked, refusing to look away from her window.
"Wherever… Where I came from, stories kept me alive. I don't remember any of them, but I remember how it feels to be whisked away to a world of your choosing. The funny part is, a good story doesn't make you jealous. You feel adventurous, like you can find it."
Liv's eyes lit up. "Hm, adventurous. That might be beneficial for us."
Upright chuckled. "Listen. I imagine Pathen will be a city of towers, towers which soar above the ground. And when you go to the top of these towers and muster up the courage to look down, you will see every color ever, of every creature exploring Pathen's streets. It will be a place built with brick and cobble, and smell clean despite a thousand pokémon sharing its streets—there will be latrines, thankfully!"
Grain stepped away from the window, giggling. She sat down, listening to the quilava.
Upright grew somber. "When you walk among the crowd, people ignore you." Then the smile redoubled. "But it's because they are all so busy. It's because they accept you, not because you're different.
"Everyone acknowledges who you are. They help you understand, since reaching an understanding helps all creatures in Pathen flourish. Places of business, places of learning, stalls and urchins, a park of… of pink trees, they all cry out, explaining themselves as to help you never be confused again. No matter who you are, or where you came from, you will drift towards your purpose like a shadow forming a shape under the right point of the sun. You are surrounded by towers, and are permitted to climb them all. It's freedom.
"And when you reach the Adventurer's Initiative, they have the best towers of all. They spin, spin in sections and spin to let you come inside, making that sense of understanding, of belonging, become much more meaningful. From them you may see the place called the Outside. The Outside is supposed to scare you. It makes you want to hide among the crowds. But at this point, all you can see is hope. You see hope and are safe."
Grain and Liv grinned at each other. Doggy roused himself from the corner, finally wrenching loose from the rumbling of the cart.
Is this how he calmed down? Doggy wondered. Ever since he slept in the schoolyard. The dream he had there, that's what he described.
"Thank you," Liv said. "I can't describe it, but hearing you promise so much made me happy."
Upright held out his paws. "H-Hey, promise? Don't hold me to it! It's what I dreamed about a couple nights ago. It's kept me going, and… I thought it might help with..."
Doggy hung his head. Upright isn't even from this world, and in a few hours of sleep he convinced himself to accept his lot in life. What have I done lately? Whined about how Grace and Grain treated me?
"I'm sorry, Grain," Doggy said.
The carriage hit a hitch. All of the children went fumbling out of their spots, gathering into a pile in the middle.
"Sorry!" Tello called out, his voice mischievous.
Doggy tried to look away as he apologized, but now the shinx laid a foot away from him. She turned with a scowl towards the front of the carriage, ready to yell at their driver, but stopped before the first word.
"Are you really?" She asked. "Last night… I remember hearing you say I am full of it."
"If you say you want to change for the better," Doggy said, "then I believe you. Upright made me realize something when he talked about Pathen: all these years, it seemed as though you hated me. But really, you and Liv were the only ones who included me in Sunstarch. Maybe you weren't my first friends, but it's okay. You were the first something's."
"We bullied you," Grain said, taken aback. "I rubbed your nose in the dirt."
"No one else cared enough to put my nose anywhere!" Doggy pressed a paw into the leather bench. "The other children were okay leaving me alone. Thank you, Grain."
The shinx flew back to her window. Her brow became furrowed as she watched the world roll by.
"I imagine," she said, after a period of contemplation. "I imagine… Pathen will be made out of peanut brittle."
Doggy cocked his head to the side. "Come again?"
"You heard me. It's all peanut brittle. The streets, the pokémon, Upright's tower. All sweet brittle."
The quilava scratched his muzzle. "Are you making fun of me?"
"You have to get your paws wet to go anywhere, else you stick to the floor. Everybody walks through Pathen with their tongues to the ground, because the brittle tastes delicious and never grows stale."
Liv chuckled. "Everybody's licking the ground where other pokémon walk and lick? I know you like peanut brittle, Grain, but this is preposterous."
Grain wagged her tail, the star at the end whipping the bench. "The floor magically cleans itself. Take that."
"N-No way," Liv said. "Pathen will be chock full of merchant guilds, job postings and money. I'll make ten-thousand poké and, at day's end, say: yikes, what an off day! And donate it all to poor pokémon in the Territory out of embarrassment. What about you, Doggy?"
The growlithe grew skittish. It felt strange, not fighting or pouting in the carriage. It felt so good, when it came to an end, he might spend a lot of time wishing to be back in the smelly heat-box.
But this is how it will be, Doggy thought. When we adventure Outside.
"I vote for Upright's idea," Doggy said. "It's so cool."
The quilava looked over at him, surprised. The surprise faded into a coy smirk.
"Well, I like Grain's idea," Upright teased. "I guess it wins."
Doggy thudded his tail against the ground. "Sure. You want peanut brittle."
"I change my vote to Upright's image," Liv said, "if only to prevent a life of smelling like peanut butter."
Grain sprung down from the window. "Nuh-uh, you can't stall the proceedings. Not fair!"
The linoone reclined on the bench. "Welcome to bureaucracy."
"Bur-wha?"
"It means: good luck getting what you want."
"Fine! Doggy, change your vote."
Doggy nodded. "Okay. I am really particular towards money, so Liv's idea."
Liv nodded in tandem. "Ah, my dream has a chance. I vote for money."
"I didn't know he would do that," Doggy lied.
"No! I'll make you follow my dreams, you stupid mutt."
Grain pounced on the growlithe, pinning him to the ground. For a sheer moment Doggy couldn't breathe, the memory of his schoolyard years knocking the wind out of him. Already his legs began to tremble, ready for her electric jolts. But the shinx waited, giving him time to adjust. No shocks. No rough bites. Just play-wrestling.
He took a deep breath.
"Never!" He cried, turning the pin around on her. The rolled around, bumping against the walls, against Upright and Liv, against everything, laughing the whole time through.
A/N: seven-thousand word chapter, why not? It was going to be longer, but I clipped off a part to use as the opening for the next chapter. Bad news you can't read it now, good news it's ~1,500 words put towards the next chapter, so it will come sooner. Are these chapters too long? Is everything making sense? How's the pacing? Feel free to let me know: I'll be here all night, tip the waiter, yadda yadda yadda.
Also, a big thanks to the humble user named Ralmon. Without Ralmon's input, I don't know if I would have been able to continue this effort. He hasn't published any stories (yet), or else I'd recommend them fully... so, er, go read what he favorites if you want a quick selection of excellent works-and one meandering mess called Deathseeker Doggy, or whatever ;)
