In the last article or chapter or whatever it is called, I claimed one word led to me becoming an explorer. Doubtful? I guarantee you are. However you may feel! This story, if it has a phrase, gets it from ancient-human linguists in Zruaset: vires acquirit eundo. It gains strength by going. And from the forest, a confusing and blundering start, one which gives a very bad impression of my brother and shows Strappo to do heroic acts, it goes to Sunstarch. Where I lived out my childhood. Also, where I lived to my embarrassment, as a sort of idol. An idol! I know, I know. Bear with me for another piece of this origin story.

The moment Strappo arrived at the gate, he was rushed by a dozen pokémon fawning over his achievement. I bet the loved ones of every rescue made it seem he had saved the world. I question if anyone ever beat Sunstarch's pining.

"Back safe and sound!" Cried an elderly heatmor, into the clamor. Mawzkuba. Pronounced mouse-koo-ba. Our smith, who appreciates the handiwork of our gate. Unlike other places in the valley, it is an actual wall. Wooden stakes rise up around our village, large as tree trunks, bolted down with iron plate added on by the heatmor himself.

We lived a simple life in the Grass Valley, a region smack dab in the center of the Grass Continent. If you took a long walk to the north, beyond several settlements with but one or two stone houses, you would find a waterfall. Then, if you went through the dungeon behind the waterfall, and pulled on a certain gem at its end, you could arrive at the Torkoal Hotsprings, located in the nearby mountains.

Not far to Sunstarch's west is Treasure Town. But, beside what was happening in the city of Zruaset, pokémon of the Grass Continent had experienced a settling down. Even four years ago, when Barf left to become an explorer, it was a decision that turned a lot of heads. Doubly so, since Sunstarch was considered the epicenter of trade for the entire Grass Vallet, and we-meaning me-were as close to royalty as royalty gets in the boondocks. So his choice to abandon a rich life made him out to be a tad... furbrained.

"Oh, dear Shy, you must not run off after your headstrong brother," said a bibarel named Nancy. She waddled forward and began cuffing Barf. "Oh, you incorrigible beast! Causing trouble again mere hours after arriving. Who ever said time abroad could cure a wandering spirit?!"

"Ow, ow, I get it," Barf said as others joined in. He replied to myriad reprimands with grace. "Yikes, I know, get angry at him, that's unfair, you don't decide if I get dinner, the urn had it coming—"

"What?" Shouted several of Sunstarch's residents. "The urn?!" Nancy wailed and pitched onto her side, kicking up a dust-cloud.

I began to rouse from my stupor when Strappo put his other paw forward. "Check it out, folk of Sunstarch. I put the ghost back in. Anyone want to hold it?"

The answer was no. Obviously. Screams broke out in the main square. As an idol, you begin to take on certain jobs. Diffusing a panicking crowd is one of them.

"Hello, everyone!" I yipped, blinking away the grogginess. They grew silent upon hearing my voice. "Strappo asked Barf to locate the urn so he could destroy it for us. Pro bono."

Several heads tilted.

"Free of charge."

Relief spread throughout the crowd.

"Nice lad," Mawzkuba rasped. "I didn't think they made your mettle anymore. Zruaset might be turning out old-hearted explorers, after all." It hurt hearing that. I was certain, somewhere down the line, someone would joke about the oldie comment he said, which is how he would remember ever uttering it. He doesn't do much work in the smith anymore. Bercreaux mentioned moving him into the main hall... another conversation slammed shut in my face, thankfully.

"Well," I said, winging it harder than a delibird sent over a cliff, "Barf here thought it was an, er... evil-within ghost. It was evil-without. Whoops. C'est la vie?" I hoped this made sense to all the grownups. "Had to let them know. Even at a risk to myself." do you ever find yourself in a situation where you want to shut up, but those listening keep asking for more? "Ha, ha-ha, duty sometimes drags us in front of danger, it's all well that ends well. Live every day to the fullest, and if you find someone who isn't, live theirs too. U-Um, believe in yourself?" I had ran out of quips. "Er..."

"I think that's enough floundering." I recognized that wry rasp. A chuckle followed. Bercreaux-here to save me from myself! The absol snaked through the audience, head raised high to gather attention. The moon-like blade on his head glimmered for a second as he righted it under the sun. Everyone moved out of his way. "Explorer Strappo, Shy, Barf." The last name came with a fair amount of surprise. Barf resisted his urge to run over and tackle the absol. "You three seemed to have had an adventure."

"It was a pro bones operation," said Lebbie the furret, who immediately shrunk down and pretended to be anyone-except-Lebbie. From then on, Lebbie's pronunciation cemented itself in Sunstarch's lore. It wasn't pro bono, but pro bones forever after.

Bercreaux barked with laughter. "Ha! My apologies, Strappo. You must be caught in my son's fib."

My eyes shifted. "I don't know what you mean." It was futile. He had my number.

"He means to say," the typhlosion whispered to me, "the job was definitely not pro bono." I shivered. This typhlosion on one end, my father on the other? Not good in the slightest. I didn't have a poké coin to my name to pay an explorer. "Maybe I will have you grow a bed of flowers everywhere I sit. For a year. Oop. A decade sounds nice."

Sensible as I was back then, this childish trick managed to startle me. "N-No, I can make up the money! Barf, let me borrow money. You must have plenty with your new job as a critter."

The growlithe frowned. "Explorers and rescuers are supposed to be paid?"

Strappo gaped. "Yes. Have been since the days of Wigglytuff's Guild. Does your guild know you don't know..."

"Oh sheesh... that's why they keep accusing me of hiding funds! I was wondering what my pals meant." Barf smiled guiltily. "I guess I'm pro bones, Shy. Sorry."

Now in the throes of perhaps the most mundane, disappointing conversation happening on that moment in the grass continent, our group of spectators dwindled. Soon, the villagers had resumed their business, though now it was peppered with gossip.

"You send a certain percentage of every job's reward to your team," Strappo explained. "And you can keep the rest. Maybe put it towards finding the mean creature who lobotomized you."

The growlithe let out a lamenting whine. "My brain's all there, promise. You're amazing, though. You know all the big words like my brother. I'm pretty furbrained."

As an aside, I don't want to take credit where it isn't due. Yet I feel if I hadn't taught Barf the word lobotimize years ago—and yes, I used it in the same context as Strappo—it would have been much harder for the growlithe to earn the explorer's respect.

"You rescuing types," Strappo said, relaxing. "I don't want normal payment. I want to experiment on Shy."

If somebody says they want to experiment on you, run for the hills. I was stuck in his arms and couldn't. I bit my tongue, waiting to hear my caretaker's answer.

Bercreaux grew hesitant. "Well, I'm sure you might be able to put that into better terms."

"I want to help him evolve. For shaymin, evolution ponds are useless. Well, without a catalyst. They need a special flower to achieve their next form."

"You left this out of our conversation yesterday."

"You served surprise soup. I had to dock you somehow."

"Fair enough."

Now all sorts of frazzled, I stammered my way into their talk. "W-Who is he, dad?"

"I think you know his name to be Strappo. He is an explorer from a renowned guild. He and I trade information. He informs me about things I wish to study, and he gets to know if I have any dreams." Dreams here meant the nightmares all absol have, the harbingers of catastrophes. "I get to enjoy myself and everyone wonders how Strappo arrives at the scene of a disaster so darned fast. If his price is more than dreams, however... I'm afraid, Strappo, the ultimate choice lies with Shy."

"Yes," I said straightaway. "Of course." This didn't deserve a second thought. I thought my zeal for adventure was gone after all the fun in the forest. But I was, in truth, still starved for change. So... anything to evolve, I decided. Even trusting Strappo and the flower he had pulled from his bag.

"Glad to hear my trip was worth it," Strappo said. "This flower involved a two-day hike into the lively vegetation surrounding the Glen Palisade. The disciples there believe in nature above all else... they also have a nasty predisposition against intruders."

"You stole it?" I asked, growing distressed. It was hard to be too angry, because that flower, the simple pink flower, matched those growing on my back. I almost bloomed, as if coming in tune with the flower.

"No, I wouldn't dare steal from the Glen. I explained your situation and they offered it in exchange for a favor. In time, you'll have to visit them. Thank them for the flower yourself."

I ground my teeth. "H-How far are they?"

"Doesn't matter. They had a lot of confidence you would trip into their Glen on your own volition." He smiled. "Their words."

No one heard my tiny squeak of fear.

Bercreaux guffawed. "I know ominous, and that is certainly it. Even so! This is an occasion for celebration. I can't believe you managed to find a crucial piece to my son's evolution. Alone as you are."

The typhlosion nodded and put away the flower. "Yes, alone."

"You swore you would form a team. For my sake, friend."

"It's hard to find the right pokémon," he replied, "those who won't cause a Glen's inhabitants to string you up." His tone was positively scathing. "See my ankle?" I gasped: it had no fur! I missed this when I bumped into it earlier. "Sheared by a rope. Half my time at the Glen was spent upside down. My guide gave in to panic and shot water at all the Glen's warriors. They fight just as well when they are soggy."

"Pokémon make mistakes. It's a part of our our condition."

"Not in my team they don't. Won't, I mean."

"Be patient—"

"Bercrea-aa-ux!" Barf shouted, already headlong into a charge. He slammed into the absol, bringing them both low to the ground. Our poor father wheezed, the wind knocked out of his chest. A—sadly about to become regular—case of Barf forgetting the strength he obtained from training. "Okay, I waited forever for you all to finish talking. I was about to explode! Bloosh!" He licked Bercreaux's cheek, barking with glee.

"I beg you, enough, you'll shatter my ribs with that sort of roughhousing." Bercreaux let out a wheeze. Barf relented. "I apologize for ignoring you. Let's go talk while..." he glanced at the typhlosion.

He was still rather unhappy about their tit-for-tat. "I can take your kid to the evolution pond anytime. I'd prefer a break, though. Or at least as much quiet as possible-can you keep this growlithe far away from us, at least for a little while?"

"Wonderful! Today it is. Barf and I will catch up in my study while the two of you make arrangements. We can meet you over at the pond. I feel, while it would be nice to make it a large occasion for the village, Shy prefers the event to be quiet."

"I do," I said. "But maybe Mawzkuba can come."

"He won't be able to make the walk," Bercreaux told me.

"He is out and about today, he says the aching is gone."

"Shy, it is too—"

Strappo, in spite of his agitation, still had the kindness to butt in. "Say, where do you want the urn?"

"It was a real problem," Barf added.

The absol shook his head, grinning. A part of it was bitter, still snagged on the heatmor's condition. "Children, the Urn of the Inaccuracy is cursed itself. All the objects it throws are doomed to miss. It'd be a stretch to call it a real problem."

"H-Huh?" Barf's ears fell flat. "But one piece went straight for Strappo."

"Because it knew he would catch it. I'd say things calmed down afterward, correct? The ghost was pleased to see the explorer catch the thing, and resigned itself to capture."

"Inaccuracy, inaccuracy," Barf repeated. "If you say it right, it sorta sounds cool, like divinity or impropriety."

"Come on you foolish dog," Bercreaux said, "let's get you washed up and reacquainted with old friends. Contact me through your orb when the preparations are complete, Strappo. Ah—and I will take the urn. It might be good for some pranks down the road."

We bade each other farewell and went to the business of evolving me. It was hard to imagine going to the forest twice in a single day. Yet I went, in hopes of going, I could gain strength.

This might seem easier to tell you in passing, rather than in any sort of detail. But then I wouldn't be able to tell you Strappo's request to Bercreaux, to keep Barf far away, was more than an attempt at some peace and quiet. He also wanted a chance to speak with me in private, without my brother breathing down our necks. So he could ask me something which should only be asked in the right conditions.