Sylveon doesn't want to get up, and unlike the last time, it's not because of the pain rolling on their back. The pokemon doesn't want to view the immediate area, to view a possible morbid scene he had caused just because he wanted to end the battle quickly. The fey had to get up sooner or later. After resting for about thirty minutes to an hour, he needed to get moving to make up the time lost battling and recovering. Time waits for no Mon, and knowing his trainer, they most likely are out on a different route looking for Sylveon. Said pokemon started to stand up and mentally prepared for a gruesome scene. When he looked up, everything was relatively normal. The unchanged rock faces are not caked in purple ooze, and neither are there any chunks of flesh. The only evidence of a fight and not a nightmare is a single, lone, well-worn club with several indents with slivers of white fur trapped within the cracks. It's strange for the Sylveon that this scene is peaceful, like a calming tranquility settled in the area after what one may consider a blood bath. The fey didn't know what to feel about this situation. Sad for what happened? Guilty for his actions? Disgusted by the tasteless kill? Relieved to be alive? Proud to surpass his adversary? Right now, he wants to move to the nearest center to heal his wounds and scars.

The tired Sylveon mechanically marched while keeping a wary eye on his surroundings. Ever since he woke up near the giant bulb, the fey didn't expect that at every turn, he was met with danger mixed with tranquil calm. It was like a storm passing by a field, and then once it passed, the field was a bit wet but still thriving. It was untamed, wild, part of nature itself. Sylveon now has an aching feeling that this place is far from home. Sure, he knows what many wild pokemon do with their habitats, but they don't encroach any civil structure unless they have a good reason to, mainly to find strong trainers for more focused training. This place, however, is different. To the Sylveon, the danger here doesn't bring an opportunity to hone his strength. Only the threat to your life was left in its place. But he ignores that feeling and keeps marching at a well-practiced pace when his trainer does the same to keep their mind off of things. The pokemon trainer might be onto something, as this technique worked wonders for Sylveon. To just shut his brain off and keep marching and watching was like its form of meditation that Delfox was harping on about. She said it was to 'cope'; whatever that means, the Sylveon has no clue.

It was late at night when the tired pokemon woke up from a stupor. For the past few hours, trying to sleep became a headache when the constant sound of what he thinks is Mightyenas howling breaks any serine REM that comes by. Being more vigilant also became a detriment, as the Sylveon couldn't distinguish between a territorial howl and a hunting one. Soon the fey gave up on trying to sleep again as he stretched carefully to get the blood flowing, feeling slightly energized during the night. There is also one other quirk that the Eon noticed when resting: laying under the moonlight helps charge their concerningly lacking energy pool. Although he does not heal like his Umbreon brethren, the moonlight does help, as fairy power is mainly lunar-based. The fey is thankful for their Eon heritage, as it was already hard enough to recover the energy spent on that Moon Blast. But soon, the free lunar charge will end, as it will be a matter of an hour until the sun comes up. The Eon took his bearings for the day. Supplies, none. Trainer, still missing. Food, waiting to be dug up from hunting earlier. Sylveon huffed and dug up his meal to start the early day.

During his meal of a small bird, the fey heard flapping followed by some chirping. The Mon didn't think twice as he threw a single star Swift in the general direction of the noise, then they heard a pained screech. They turned to see a small form drop to the ground, what looked to be a Zubat with a yellow eye and talons. Sylveon felt the malicious intent coming from this small form, and with the sharp-fanged teeth, it didn't take a genius to know that this thing was gunning for a bite of the fey's body. 'Can I eat this thing?' The first thought came to mind, but he was hesitant as he didn't want to get infected by any poison if it were a distant, uglier cousin of the venomous flying pokemon. The not-Zubat's corpse proves his hesitation correct as it started withering, breaking into black dust. The dust dissipates, leaving behind a single, clawed wing. 'Nevermind, I'm good.' The Sylveon nods as he feels fast-degrading bats don't make a nutritious meal plan. He got to watch his health, after all. He turned to ignore the wing's existence and started walking down the path, peripherals nearly upwards, as he headed to, hopefully, his destination.

It wasn't even half an hour of walking as he went through the ravine, passing several rock formations and more bats to swat in the air, using his feelers to save energy. He was a bit annoyed but soon turned nonchalant as every bat thereafter was wrapped and flung to the nearest wall. They became endearing to the fey for their voracious tenacity. After that half an hour, he saw an opening. It became something grander than it had any right to be as the sun rose. The light rays nearly blinded them as they came across an incline heading down to a patchy forest surrounding a lake. The lake has the same rock spire from before, now with its full height in view with the giant not-bird hovering overhead. The Sylveon almost felt like they could cry, as the one main detail he could spot on the spire was housing, with roofs, windows, and catwalks leading between them. They were people living on the spire. It was a town surrounded by a lake. "Louez Xerneas! Sweet society!" He mewed with extreme relief with a touch of excitement. His trainer might be here if he is lucky! If not, the pokecenter could chip him in and contact his trainer that way. He didn't even wait. His gait turned into a sprint as he ignored his protesting leg and back injuries. Although dangerous, he didn't care, as this was the final stretch in his eyes.

After another hour of constant running, Sylveon felt their legs burning as the second wind faded. Once they entered one of the groves, they relaxed their pace to a simple feline trot as they took in the fresh forest air. To the fey, it smells moist, with pine and wooded creatures of unknown variety. The sounds of crickets are almost like a Kricketune song, which is music for the pokemon's ears, although off-tempo. There was also buzzing, which put the fey at unease, but soon the fears were unfounded by a curious look at a small hive in the distance. This grove, even when small, was full of life. Plantless-Sawsbuck prancing past them on the trail. A miscolored Fennikin dug its next burrow and then hid when the Sylveon wanted to help. Neon fungi dotted the trees, and they smelled weird yet pleasant to the Mon. A tiny Vivillion landed on his nose when checking said fungi, and after staring, it flew away when the fey had to sneeze. Tons of flying types living in the branches, giving melodious songs for communion and mate calling. It was paradise compared to the past three days, which were bare rock canyons, rusted metal piles, and vicious creatures wanting his flesh. What makes this even sweeter for Sylveon is when he hits a clearing.

The Sylveon now spots what appears to be a building made of wood and leather, with a roof shaped like a Rappidash's head with a windmill in the neck portion. Sylveon thought it was a strange architectural choice, but that thought was soon forgotten when he saw humans exiting the equine building. They wore even stranger clothing, unlike the casual wear of his master and their adversaries, with cloth, leather, and metal buckles. It's like they are wearing travel gear from a bygone era of blades and lords. But the most apparent is that this human has sharp ears. However, the fey was happy that he saw humans. The same couldn't be said for the 'humans' once one saw the Sylveon's form.

One of the residents of the stable is a traveler who came to stay near Lake Tatori while chopping wood to keep food on the table. It's honest work, if not backbreaking. He wanted to fish for his keep, but they already had plenty of fish from the trade with their neighbors. He can take what he can get. Not like there are many job openings at a stable when their neighbors can literally fly. But one particular thing he trades his wares for is lore and stories from a wandering musician that passes by from time to time. Any traveler needs good firewood, even if their form is feathered or not. One of the stories he recently heard is the fable of Satori Mountain, which tells a tale about a quadrupedal beast that roams that mountain as its home. Many believed it to be a guardian spirit of nature, which can curse any unwanted guest that decides to explore its sacred home. Although he doesn't know the visage of such a spirit, the main characteristic is that it is a creature unnatural to the mortal realm. What he thought on this day was that the fable was just that, a fable. A made-up tale as a warning to tell travelers. To keep to the paths and not get ambushed by monsters that prowl the fields of Hyrule.

That all came crashing down when he saw a bizarre form coming from the path eastside. In some places, it was white and a tad brown, with long appendages trailing behind it. Its blue eyes had no pupils and looked like lakes in which you could get lost in its depths. It looked like a beast, but not any he had seen. Lastly is the feeling of awe and serenity. It is hard to pin down, but it is best described as an ethereal presence that shifts the wind and calms the untamed with its very being. So he came to a natural reaction when facing such a being that he, a Hylian, could only travel and chop wood for a living. "Spirit! There is a spirit! Get inside and seal the doors!" He shouted while tying the entrance down and moving the wooden blockade to the front. Soon the stable hand looked surprised and said, "Are you sure? Have you been talking to Kass again? He said those are onl-" The traveler pointed towards the road and exclaimed, "See for yourself, but I am not getting cursed if I have anything to say about it!" as he ran further into the back, away from the entrance. Now the stable hand was curious. If it were as dangerous as he said, the stallions would have caused a ruckus to warn the herd. The curiosity soon won over her caution, trusting that her experience didn't lead her astray.

She opened a curtain to the open stable and saw something she would never forget. One of her favorite mares was acting like she had met someone new, as she was curious and deliberate in her movement. When she meets someone she has never seen before, she starts with a nuzzle and a huff, which is a good sign that the equine is calm and now knows the stranger's scent. The stranger in this current scene is what took her breath away. A creature size comparable to a mountain lion with ribbons tied to its neck and one of its large rabbit-like ears. The ribbons have pink highlights that end in sky blue, one loosely encircled around the front left limb of the larger mammal. And the mare is nuzzling the top of the creature's head like it was a close friend. The handler didn't know how to react but started to back up carefully to avoid disturbing the scene. Unfortunately, she accidentally knocked against a wooded bucket and tipped it over, spilling horse fodder. The creature freezes while the mare huffs in annoyance, but the beast pays the horse no mind as he stares at the woman that caused the noise. It looked curiously at the stable hand's form. Then its gaze wandered up to her face. She was internally panicking as the supposed spirit looked directly into her eyes like it was reading her intent. Soon the creature loosened its hold on the mare as the stable hand thought she saw a frown on the spirit. As it slowly backed away and ran into the grove, she saw a slight limp on its hind leg, only adding to the now-forming regret that she had scared it off.

'They were scared of me. The humans were scared of me.' This became the leading thought as the Sylveon trotted further down the path. This is not what the fey expected in the slightest when first meeting the humans, that is, if you even can call it a 'meeting.' When the male first saw him, the shock was understandable as his master explained that Sylveons are usually uncommon with the eevolutions, but then came panic and shutting the door to the building. At that point, he was confused. He doesn't feel any dangerous malicious intent in the vicinity, so he just pinned it as "humans being humans." He looked around for more humans but only to meet creatures that seemed so close to Rapidash that he could mistake them as a regional variant. The fey was always up to meet new faces, be it human or other Mon, so he approached slowly not to seem threatening or aggressive. The regional Rapidash was initially cautious and skittish, but Charm came to the rescue, which helped calm them almost entirely. This greeting was like any other friendly Rapidash encounter, just without the want to fight at the end, which was currently welcomed by the injured fey. It was only slightly interrupted by another human. This time the emotion was evident to the empath. The fear for their own well-being and anxiety for their four-legged companion were aimed at the Sylveon and his gaze. The humans thought he was a hunter, and the fey knew he couldn't stay, as he never wanted to cause emotional distress to any innocent person he encountered. Right now, he could only think of heading to the town. He would have felt his trainer's emotions if they were here, so he quickly exited to make both sides happy.

Now it was noon when the pokemon saw the well-made bridge heading onto a small island that led to another and another, finally leading to the middle spire. This chain of bridges was more structurally and aesthetically sound compared to the last lone one over that gorge. Wooden beams of the guard rails weave and interlock in interesting patterns, giving a sense of stability. The bridges are flanked with currently unlit paper lanterns with metal frames, which is different from the metal poles with glass lights that the last human town used. Soon Sylveon walked onto the dark hanging planks, and as he trotted along, he viewed now close enough buildings that cling to the spire. The catwalks looked to be leading to platforms with buildings with the occasional, what the fey thought, balconies without guardrails. 'I thought humans are afraid of falling?' The pokemon pondered to himself as he touched the ground once again next to a small pond but soon scampered to the next wooden bridge leading to the next plateau. They then looked up at the mesmerizing passing fusion of avian and machine, with the now visible red accents to showcase a peculiar design that was not like any the Sylveon is ever seen. It looks worn like it was an ancient artifact that had been unearthed after centuries, yet it hovers like any other Flying Type via its giant propellers on its underbelly and wings.

Sylveon had their watch cut short by the feeling of dirt once again. Now there is only one short bridge leading to the last plateau that contains the town. The fey now marched without hesitation, as this might be the place to get answers, to see if their trainer was truly here. Before they could march any further, a bolt cut through the air and embedded into the ground before them. The Sylveon's fur stood up and hopped back, narrowly almost landing on their injured leg. "So, this is a so-called spirit. Thought you would be bigger." a baritone voice sounded unamused as the fey looked up at the current assailant. It looked like another bird, but this time it was tall as a human, with white feathers and a leather tunic dyed with a mix of red and green. By sound and smell, he is a male. His eyes looked so fierce that he could stare down a Talonflame. He had a bow in his wings that acted like arms, proving further that he was the culprit of that arrow shot.

Teba was only supposed to do a supply run today. With his quiver becoming lighter by the week, even when reusing old arrows, he had to gain more for his training. No one in the village was surprised once he voiced his reason for his visit, as he is usually gone for days before returning to the flight range. As he met up with the bow-craftsman Harth, he kept his desire to speak with him down his throat, as he was not ready to give a dangerous plan when his skill was still not up to par. At least not yet. As he got the supplies ready for his next round of hunting, his wife Saki implored him to spend some time at home and his son Tulin. After some begging from his son for 'play time,' he had to relent with the horrors of having a roof over his head and home-cooked salmon. This is not how a true warrior lives, but he will manage. After promising for the third time to take his son to the flight range for him to watch, of course, he soon heard a panicking sentry squawking about some 'spirit' that invaded the nearby stable. 'Why is this generation of warriors such drama-birds?' He thought but soon stood attention about the supposed 'spirit.' If it's nearby, how dangerous is it? Is it going for the village? Not one to stand by, Teba walked to the sentry, who began to catch their breath after what they had been flying at top speed for a considerable length. "You there. The spirit, where did you see it?"

It didn't take much distance to find such a creature, as it was already walking on the bridges when he was about to take off. Whatever this creature is, it sure is colorful. Probably in order to distinguish itself to attract mates. If spirits can get mates, that is. Teba soon gives a warning shot to, hopefully, scare it away like any other critter he hunted. He soon made an off-winged comment about his assumptions on the supposed size of spirits. But what he did not expect is a reaction, not one of an animal but one with intelligence. 'This one is aware. Its eyes, expression. And not reactionary either, at least not in an aggressive fashion like the monsters.' As he stared down at this creature, he thought of his next move. "You don't look like an animal. Your eyes don't deceive. That first shot is the only free one you get. If you can understand, turn back now. You are not welcome here." As the creature stared Teba down, Teba bet that the creature would get the tone of the message and run away. What he doesn't know is that Sylveon was not planning to flee, as the fey had a mission he would complete no matter the cost, and he won't let some Blazikin wannabe stop him. 'Not until I find my master,' the pokemon thought unwaveringly. If the Mon had to check every city, town, settlement, and hovel in order to find his trainer, then so be it. Nothing will block him from his goal, even if the Sylveon had to get hurt while doing so.

Teba waited for the creature patiently, as when he saw it looked down like it was contemplating. 'Definitely intelligent. Any animal, prey or hunter, will not risk looking away. This thing won-' Teba dropped that thought as he saw the Sylveon sprint forward toward the bridge. His movements became reactionary as the fluid motion of loading an arrow onto the bowstring, pulling then releasing before his thoughts caught up. The fey expected this as he abruptly changed position with a Quick Attack, and what would have been a pinpoint shot only struck hardwood a foot off target. The Rito was surprised but quickly notched another arrow to keep the beast at bay. As for Sylveon, he is horrified that the Flying type can attack so fast and often, so much so that he has to change strategy immediately before he becomes a pin cushion! After looking at the gatekeeper's eyes, the fey had a simple idea. Sylveon turned to the guard rails and hopped up to use it as a launch platform. For the archer, he was dumbfounded, for the creature jumped upward and left itself wide open, and he could barely miss at this range while the creature in mid-air had no ground to maneuver. He aimed for a limb to debilitate.

He couldn't even get a proper shot off this time, as the most unexpected phenomena happened while the invader was in mid-fall. It threw sand. Sand, from the air. Teba didn't know when it got some or how it could hold so much when it didn't even have hands! But what he does know is that it caused a dust cloud in front of him as a diversion! He reclaimed his composure and aimed downward where it was supposed to fall. After all, such a dirty trick won't fool him. That was his last thought before a white form sped right toward him, or at the very least, at his bow. Sylveon knew that the archer would only focus on where he was going, so he enacted a stratagem that his trainer taught him to deal with pokemon with a high vantage point. Misdirect and go straight to them. This catches most Flying Types off guard since Quick Attack uses Normal energy to boost the Mon forward. But the aim was not to hurt but to get his weapon.

When the Sylveon was about to Covet the longbow, Teba was already moving. He had his instincts forged into him during his warrior training and kept them sharp day by day, honing his reflexes for his life's mission. And what is it that his body told him? Kick the thing. It was a full roundhouse to the gut of the fey and sent it toward the stone. The pokemon had to right himself to land standing up, but the pain in Sylveon's hind leg flared when he landed. The Syveon's unstable stance and the continued momentum caused him to tumble, plunge over the edge of the stone arch, and fall into the lake below. All the Rito heard was an auditory splash as he stood in blank stoicism. Holding his longbow, he felt it was noticeably lighter than before. Teba, the Rito warrior, looked at his armament, and close-beak exhaled in exasperation. His bow, his primary weapon that served him on many moons, is without a bowstring. 'This is what I get for not maintaining it for the day,' Teba self-admonished, not that he expected to fight an unknown creature on the bridges on this day specifically. Finally, some of the post guards came running in a frantically organized formation.

"Teba! Are you alright?!" One of the guards redundantly shouted as the only blemish on Teba's form was a few flustered feathers. "I'm fine. The intruder has gone into the drink and won't return anytime soon." He stated firmly, but one guard looked worried despite his report. "Just spill it," Teba said to the guard, wanting to get this day over with. The guard stared, then said in a stutter, "Wh-what if the spirit gets up here from be-below?" Soon Teba recognized this sentry, as he was the one who squawked about the 'spirit' in the first place. "It's not a spirit." Teba corrected, "It was not floating, neither did it use any magic or phase through objects. So you can hit it just fine." The fear is still lingering, he continued, "Even if it's currently in the lake, I highly doubt, unless it could suddenly grow wings, that it will scale the rock face without us spotting it before it can even reach the top. If you stay on patrol like you're supposed to, then the creature won't get past." Soon the guard looked down in shame and meekly voiced, "Sorry, it's just when I heard the stories when growing up…" He soon quiets down, like he is not worthy of such an excuse. Teba puts a firm wing on his shoulder, "It's fine, you actually did the right thing when dealing with an unknown, and I didn't think you could face it alone anyway." Teba stared at the surprised sentry. "Just act with a bit more composure next time there is an alarm so you don't accidentally cause a panic in the village. And as for the creature, as long as you are grouped up, I'm sure you can handle it." To Teba, there is more than putting down a warrior, you also need to lift them back up to tell them they can do it right next time. Moral is a delicate balance, and he doesn't want depressed warriors, now would he? Soon, the moment was ruined like a moth that caught on fire. "So, what did the creature look like?" The other guard voiced in curiosity. 'Sentries' Teba thought as he continued his very long day with a very brief summary.

Before the confrontation, Tatori Lake was in a mirror-like calm, with its waters not even disturbed even under the surface. A scenic image many would travel to see, but for a green feathered Rito in a small boat, all the image does is accentuate that she is not getting any bites on her casted line. "When fish will bite, Mamma?" A young purple Rito fledgling said loudly, breaking the solace in the air as mother hen Amali was not bothered by the volume of her youngest chick. The mother replied patiently, "Until they feel like biting Kheel, they especially won't when you're loud." When Amali looks at her passenger, she sees a pouting face while her chick continues to sway her legs over the boat's rim. This was supposed to be an activity that the mother wanted to introduce to her youngest daughter, as she was insistent on 'help mommy' today. But it wasn't what the fledgling expected when fishing was mainly a quiet job, and Kheel didn't even know the meaning of the word 'tranquil' in her day-to-day life. Always running around, singing, talking loudly, trying to fly while her mother is not looking, she won't stay still even when waiting for her favorite dish. The main reason they were there was that hearty salmon was in season, yet to try to get the elusive ingredient takes patience. So, to Kheel, this was appealing as water towards oil. "Dumb fish." the six-year-old accused as the mother admonished, "Language!" as she returned to the line. When she felt a tug, she was about to pull when a large splash happened behind them. This caused Amali to pull too hard on her fishing pole, the line snapping and yanking into the water as Kheel went, "Woah, woah!" as the boat rolled over the fresh disturbance.

Now with something interesting happening, Kheel did not wait to hop to the opposite edge to check the spot that caused a fountain of water near their vessel. "Kheel, don't rock the boat too much!" the mother, now in a panic, thinking a stone had just fallen off one of the plateaus next to them. "Large string! Large string, Mamma!" Kheel called out, ignoring the warning as Amali now spots a bowstring floating in the water. 'Did someone drop their bow? I swear, I will have a word with them about throwing junk down here without checking. What if that thing hit Kheel's head?!' The mother fumes as Kheel, now even more curious, reaches for the half-sunken cord. "Kheel! Don't just go out the boat for a string!" The mother hen reprimands, but the chick replies, "But someone dropped it, Mamma! You said pick it up if you drop!" Now Amali shakes her head in contemplation as her daughter is right. It's best not to have anything sink into the lake only to fish it up later. So, the mother concedes. "Okay, but let me help pull it in. I don't want you to fall in accidentally." Amali sternly stated as she rowed closer. Both the Rito pair gripped the string and started pulling, some more than others, as the mother thought, 'How heavy is this thing?! And is that cloth?' when she spots a white and pink strip wrapped around the bowstring. She was about to reach for it when a dark form began rocketing to the surface and then breached. Kheel was shocked by the white creature with big ears coming from the depths, yet soon recognized the splashing. "Help them! Must help!" Kheel screeched as she continued pulling with even more effort despite the minuscule turnout. Now Amali snapped out of her weary demeanor and grabbed onto the feeler, which she failed to spot it wrapping around her wrist, to give a mighty pull as the breathless fey went onboard, it nearly passing out in exhaustion.

"Pretty." Said the fledgling as she stared at the mysterious creature that almost drowned. Amali was a bit cautious as she had never seen such a creature before. Despite the creature being almost unmoving due to all its energy spent, the mother doesn't know if it will lash out if it were to gain consciousness. That worry died down as her daughter was now looking at her, almost like she was begging for it to be helped. 'What would he do?' Amali thought longly, knowing her husband wasn't here and was currently on his travels. But for years that she had known him, Amali knew precisely how he would act. 'Curse my bleeding heart.' Amali laments as she gets her basket to loosen the strap. "Momma?" Kheel asked as the mother replied, "Don't worry, we will help them. Just need a way to carry them while we fly." Amali looked up while unstrapping to check on the floating construct in the sky. It seemed to be coasting on the other side of the spire. Not like it would be alerted as it would only do so near the top of the pillar of stone, but she wanted to calm her fears, knowing it was nowhere near them. She opened the top of the basket and slowly lifted the near-unconscious critter into it. She was thankful it was a slow day as the basket was empty and had enough room to fit the big weird cat. As Amali lifted it to her back, she shifted and asked Kheel, "Anything sticking out of the basket?" Kheel was about to say that a white strand was sticking out until it slowly slipped inside like it was alive. Now, there was only the basket on the outside. "Kheel?" her mother questioned as Kheel turned to call out, "All good Momma!" Amali raised a brow at her cheer but soon nodded and readied her wings. Kheel does the same with eagerness, then they slowly take off into the air and fly back toward their home.