Guardian of The Forest

by Relic8

Set in the land of the Pokémon Mystery Dungeon 'Explorers' games, Guardian of The Forest tells the story of a driven Lucario whose childhood was spent in service to the famous Wigglytuff's Guild, and his seemingly endless struggle to protect innocent Pokémon from the once-fabled beings known as Humans, intent on capturing them and forcing them into slave labour in the villages.

23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Two:
Reflection and confession

The clear skies of the evening had withdrawn, allowing their stations to be invaded by heavy, dark clouds that loomed above without offering rain.
The dark of night was absolute; yielding neither moon nor stars; a vast sheet of velvet black only kept from the grounds by the beginnings of the flames that the escapees had begun to brew.

Howl was among the few who were nearly submerged in the surrounding dark, for most had decided among their large numbers that a single campfire was quite enough; he however had stooped low amidst the sprawling complex of thigh-high grass and was lading his arms with twigs, leaves, and even fallen branches that needed to be broken down to size. But he was grateful for the small tension it gave against his tired arms. His insides had moved from fathomless agony to a ceaseless boiling, and since the noon had given way to dusk, all emotion seemed to have abandoned him, leaving him with a hollow pit somewhere between his core and his chest.
The simplicity of action - of gathering firewood, and the small but not insignificant battle of breaking apart the trees' wooden limbs felt as though it kept him from losing any sense of self, as though the strain on his forearms, the tension and the release were proof that he was still there, his body strong enough to carry out the task and spirits not so low that he did not feel a small flicker of pleasure as he thwarted each branch before moving on to the next.
Finally he stopped, realising he had gathered far, far more than was needed and, taking as much as he could carry, began to make his return.

He heard the gentle murmur of water and steered clear of the pond, taking his time to carefully place each foot in turn among the perpetual dark, and as he did so, he heard silent Pokémon voices and turned his head towards them.
Across the pond's silent waters, he saw a small flicker of flame - a branch from the campfire burning almost exactly like a torch, clasped tightly in what he recognised as the Houndour's jaws. Beside her he could see the vague outline of Ivysaur, the protruding tail of Pachirisu, and it was only the sound of a half-stifled sniff that made him notice the Audino's presence as well.
He couldn't determine whose voice he had heard, or whose he could hear now, but it made no difference in the end. There was no question to whom they were speaking to.
He himself had been unable to keep his gaze from turning towards the Delcatty's resting place at every occasion he had passed it by.

"What's all that for?" asked Charizard as he quietly threaded his course through the sleepers gathered around the fire.
"Setting up another camp," Howl responded without slowing in his movements or returning the Fire-Type's gaze.
"I figured that," Charizard opined, "But why are you setting up another one? Surely you aren't of the mind to sleep away from the rest of us?"
Howl remained silent, and passed along the last of the sleeping figures when Charizard dictated firmly,
"You can't hold the blame all to yourself, Lucario."
The Lucario in question felt his pace slacken in spite of himself until he found himself at a standstill.
The Fire-Type continued,
"You know, as you get older, you get much better at reading the signals from different folks... and being your elder, I feel compelled to impart a bit of elderly wisdom on you, young one.
You cannot - you must not hold yourself responsible for her death.
What would be the point, I ask you?
What would that gain? who would it help?
The only ones responsible would be the vile creatures who held her captive for so long."
Howl's shadowed outline gave all the signs of preparing to walk on, so the Charizard added glibly,
"Miss Trill tells me that you claim to be a Guild Pokémon... and I daresay I believe you. But I'm afraid, Guild-Mon, that that worries me more than it reassures."
Howl turned, slowly, his expression inscrutable.
"I know Guild Pokémon," he continued, confident now that he had his quarry's attention, "I know what your training entails. I've even been fortunate enough to fight at your sides more than once in my time. Your prowess at fulfilling your missions and your combat abilities are without peers, but it is the mindset with which you are taught to approach these tasks that concerns me.
Do correct me if I'm mistaken...
But I understand you are made to place your client - or clients - above absolutely all else; your own safety, and even your own... internal health, to an extent."
"Wh..." Howl breathed, feeling the beginnings of anger flare in his chest, "What are you-!"
"Your guildmaster's teach you to follow a code that has not been altered since its beginning days, centuries ago.
You are given unreasonable, and even unrealistic expectations to the point of... forgive me... to the point of near-insanity!"
Howl's fur bristled angrily from the tips of his ears to his tail, but still the Fire-Type plunged recklessly on,
"I mention this now, boy, for your sake as much as ours. What I say may go against everything you've been taught to feel, but... you must be able to forgive yourself. There was nothing more that any of us could have done. You must know that. You have to, because... well... at risk of sounding old... my own father taught me the most valuable lesson I could know before he passed on. A lesson that Guild Pokémon seem almost unable to appreciate."

He paused briefly, waiting to see if Howl wanted to voice anything at that point. When he remained silent still, the Charizard divulged softly;

"'When there is no enemy within, the enemies outside can do us no harm'."
He smiled then, almost wistfully.
"The greatest gift the old coot could have ever given me, that..."

Then, at long last, Howl broke his own silence.

"Trill...?" he asked, nonplussed.
"Yes," the Charizard answered, "Trill."
"Who...?"
"The Pidgey, you fool! The Pidgey!
You never bothered to ask her name?!"
Howl shook his head,
"I... No... I saw her as a client. One doesn't ask a client their name un-"
"-Unless they ask you for yours, or unless they ask you to call them by name, correct?" Charizard cut across him, "Well, I'm sorry to report this, but your bosses aren't here to scold you any longer,"
Howl felt his ears and tail droop without his consent. It was as though the words had been pressed into his brain like a hoof into mud.
"so," the Charizard continued, not noticing this, "you should at least behave more like a normal 'Mon, and respond with normal 'Mon courtesy... such as asking another's name before an entire day has pa-
HEY! Don't you walk away from me while I'm talking at you!
This is the part where you ask me for my name-"
But as he raised his voice further as Howl strode on, his daughter gave a little moan of discontent and began to stir in his arms, forcing him to fall silent and comfort her gently back to sleep.

Howl strode up the incline towards the ridge where his hidden companions awaited, feeling his exhaustion finally beginning to tell as he forced his weak, beaten legs to make the climb.
But as he crested the slope, managing to just keep his breathing steady, he realised something even through the perpetual gloom.
He had sensed it rather than seen it; the subtle awareness of one's own solitude had remained even as he had drawn into what would be their limited sight.
He heard neither voices nor the steady breaths of one who is asleep. He caught no traces of their scents before him.
It seemed his words had upset, maybe even frightened them more than he'd been willing to believe.
The expressions that had flitted across their faces as he had stormed away swam across his memory heavily, sickeningly; like wreckage from some gathering or village that was thrown into a river, their individual bodies bobbing, turning and heaving across the once glistening trail, leaving all who witnessed their passing feeling nauseous; unable to bring themselves to look closer, but unable to tear themselves away.

The flutter of tiny wings broke through his reverie, and he rose his head to meet the greetings of the Pidgey.
"There you are," she said, and he enveloped his forearm in Aura to see her more clearly. Her avian features showed signs of concern.
"Where are the monsters?" she asked.
"I was just wondering that myself," he answered, and he closed his eyes to enable his Aura Senses as she perched atop his head.
He found the two trails to be large and opaque in their colours, so the humans had not been gone for long. Yet as he followed them down the trail towards the very foot of the little hill, he was surprised to see they had gone on in separate directions.
Recovering from this swiftly, he took heed of the fact that Sally's trail was the heaviest, so she could not have travelled far, and requested that Pidgey go to locate her and simply remain at her side so as to ensure she remained unseen and unharmed.
He had been intending to speak with Rowan since they had been reunited in the Mystery Dungeon, and now was perhaps his best chance.
Pidgey followed the direction he indicated for her, and made his own way on into further darkness.

The trail of sky-blue did not lead him far; a mere five minute's walk at most until he reached some change in the surrounding meadow. A slight incline which he thought at first to be a valley.
After making his way carefully downhill until the sound of running waters reached his ears, he felt light flicker against his closed lids and opened them at last.
There, seated at the riverbank beside his lantern, he found his human client, submerged entirely in a gloom-filled world of his own.

Howl breathed deeply for a spell before closing the gap between them.

Rowan continued to lift pebbles from the ground and throw them lazily into the flow of water, the splashes only occasionally rising above the din of the current.
Howl leaned idly against the nearby tree, waiting to see if he would be noticed.
When Rowan's attention did not shift whatsoever, Howl had to close his eyes and consider how best to announce himself.
The only times he had felt this kind of awkwardness had been when Mist was upset with him for something, and knew no matter what he said, she was bound to make at least a handful of cutting remarks before the discussion was over.
Finally he adopted the manner he would have done for her, exhaled the breath he'd been holding, and said gently,
"Rowan."
The human gasped through clenched teeth and leapt to his feet to meet the speaker.
"Y-!
How long have you been standing there?!" he asked, his expression wild.
"Just got here now."
"You-... I-I didn't hear you coming!"
"You weren't paying attention."
"You... You snuck up on..."
"No. I announced my presence. Sit down, Rowan, calm yourself. I just want to talk."
Rowan looked ill at ease.
"I'll come back to the camp in a minute, yeah? We can talk then."
"No..." Howl said, keeping as much danger from his voice as he possibly could, "Here is just fine. I want to talk to you."
"I... Well...
I don't feel much like talking. Can you just... gimme a minute, please?"
"You've had your minute. Plenty extra, as a matter of fact. I just want information, and then I'll leave you in peace if you want."
Rowan's lips thinned, his fingers twitched and clenched before unclenching and he glanced all around him, but made no comment.
"It's not just because of what I said in the town," Howl continued, "or because of what... just happened. No, there's some other reason that seems to have started from the moment you learned who I really was.
You doubt me, Rowan. You don't trust me. You manage to avoid my eye more often than not. I'd thought we had gotten on pretty well when we first met, but now... it's like we're strangers again.
Why is that, Rowan? What have I done to earn your contempt?"
"You..." Rowan began uncertainly, glancing from his feet to his eyes and back.
Then he shook his head,
"No, I can't. You won't - just no, no way."
He turned and began to walk, swiftly, but Howl closed off his escape with lightning movement and rested a palm firmly on his chest - not pushing, but not yielding him another step.
"I won't what, Rowan?" he asked calmly, as if there'd been no interruption, and when the human tried to dislodge his paw and continue to force his way past, he simply stepped forwards - in direct opposition to the human's efforts and moved him back until he was returned to the exact same spot he had occupied before; he and the Pokémon stood on opposite ends of the quiet, flickering lantern on the ground between them.
"If there's something I've done wrong, I'd like you to tell me.
Rowan staggered awkwardly into place, and from there he shuffled from foot to foot, but seemed equally uncomfortable on each. His eyes darted in all directions and his brow rose and fell and slanted so rapidly it was as though the Pokémon could actually see every thought that raced through his mind as it came and went.
"You're not gonna react nicely... I can't tell you."
"I gave up my right to be offended when I asked you to tell me the truth. I promise you're in no danger, Rowan. Just try me."
Rowan continued to shuffle quietly, and Howl exhaled quietly. Rowan made no contradictions, but he could see in the green eyes that the human didn't believe his words.
Then the Pokémon was surprised.
The human had shut his eyes tight, his whole being intense, then they had opened again and a new glow had filled their forest-green shade, one which Howl had simply not foreseen in the light, carefree and jocular demeanour that he associated with Rowan Jovani.
"Fine," he replied, an edge to his tone that only furthered the Pokémon's surprise, "I'll try you."
Howl recovered himself, and met the human's gaze calmly, and finally pinpointed just what the new light he had seen was.
A spark - no... a fire. A blaze of reckless determination with little to no concern for their owner's safety.
"You're the Demon of The Forest, and everyone in Rota Village knows to stay away from you. I asked 'em what all the fuss was about, and I was given bucket-loads of some pretty tall tales... Some of 'em I know now weren't true. I know you can't breathe fire and I know you can't turn people to stone just by lookin' at 'em, but... some of them I'm still not sure of, given everything we've seen you and other Pokémon do.
But that's not the issue. It's not about me...
It's about Sally."
He paused then, and glanced quickly up and back again before continuing:
"You've confessed you are the Demon they talk about, and Sally says you saved her life that night from the villagers... but...
Why were you even there? What were you doing?
Why did the Demon of The Forest come back to a practically empty, isolated building in the middle of the night?"
Howl's tail moved slowly from side to side, and his ears perked up at the words as he realised their meaning.
"You thought I had intentions on Sally's life," he said pensively, nodding to himself, "Not an unreasonable conclusion. If I were any of the things the villagers say I am, that isolated tavern would be an easy target... But surely you don't still believe that, after all that's happened?"
Rowan shifted uncomfortably, and his mouth half-opened in response.
"Why didn't you just ask me? I would have told you the truth. Or why not get Sally to ask, if you were uncomfortable-"
But Rowan returned his gaze again, the fire still burning strongly, and blurted out,
"I dunno - just tell me now!
Tell me why you came back... and you look me in the eye when you answer."
Howl couldn't help but smile, and it was no mocking smile; he found himself taken with the more forceful, adamant manner Rowan used to address him by, certainly more than that of the past couple days.
He chose to ignore the little twitch that the human's bottom-left eyelid gave as his demand was met, however, and proceeded to explain about Ebony, the rebellious Zorua and her surprisingly advanced skills at creating illusions in the air around her. How he had caught her on many occasions trying to sneak into the village or after a trade caravan, and sometimes even noticed her lingering close by and eyeing a wagon full of human merchandise.
How she was convinced that human settlements were not mere towns or villages, but that they were troves full of ancient, foreign treasures, and swore no matter his countless attempts to dissuade her that she had seen humans carrying this treasure almost everywhere they went; how they kept them in little boxes on shelves or how sometimes in little pouches tied at their hips.
How he had stopped her and Bolt's quarrel and forced her to confess that she had been waiting at every chance for his absence and slinking past the Forest guards to gather as much of this treasure as she could.
And, finally, how she had followed the path from the crossroad all the way to Luna Tavern, and been convinced that such a remote human settlement must surely belong to the Alpha of the village, and he would surely have more and greater treasures than all of his subordinates combined.
And how only the boldest - the most daring of treasure hunters would risk delving into his lair and pillaging the greatest of his reserves from the very place he thought them safest...

He explained it all with such a relaxed and impassive tone that Rowan's intensity had waned towards the end of the brief recount, and when he asked his immediate question, the glint of his eyes was a familiar one, and his voice more recognisable.
"So... what then?" he asked, "What d'you do once you found out? Did she give it up to you?"
"With some persuasion."
Rowan paused.
"So... that's it?" he asked, "That's why you went back? To return some money to Sally?"
"Money?" Howl replied, one of his ears giving the speculative twitch that his clients had learned to expect by then,
"It wasn't...
Oh. That's right, I never actually specified the thing she took..."
"It... wasn't money?"
"An accessory, I think. A coin of sorts, hanging off a small length of string, like a necklace-"
"- A pendant?!" said Rowan sharply, "She stole the pendant I m-"
-and it seemed to require what strength remained in his exhausted and frustrated mind for him to catch himself mid-sentence.

A slightly awkward silence reigned in-between them for some considerable seconds.

"You're not going to elaborate on that, are you, Rowan?" the Pokémon asked dryly.
When that too earned no response, he added,
"Now, I'm not one to pry... but what exactly is the relationship between you two? Are you, perha-"
"No."
The reply came so quickly and coldly that Howl couldn't repress his amusement.
"You don't know what I was going to say!" he exclaimed, smiling, but Rowan's brow was knitted.
"Yeah, I do," he said, "I know exactly what you were going to say, and I'm telling you, it's not like that.
We just...
We're really good friends, alright?"
"Really good...?"
"Yes.
...Wait, no, no! Not-
Knock it off!"
Howl's shoulders bounced with his laughter, his sharp teeth flashing in the light of the flickering lantern.
"Well, I hope I haven't been something of an oblivious hindrance these last couple days..." he said with a wicked smile crossing his muzzle, "You two are young, I suppose... If, at any point, you want me to give you some privacy, you just let me know, I'll understand..."
Rowan seemed to flush from the roots of his hair to the soles of his feet, yet he shut his eyes tight and seemed to almost swallow back the anger and respond with all the bare force he could muster,
"No. That's not it. We're just friends."
Howl nodded, but seriously this time.
"You do seem to care about her quite a lot though, Rowan... far more than a mere friendship..."
Rowan groaned violently,
"Urrgh! Will you knock it off already! It's not funny, so just stop!"
"I'm not being funny, Rowan. Truly. I've been observing the way you speak to each-other, and I've also seen how, in spite of all prior reluctance to get involved, when it's her life in danger, you are always the first to appear at her side and try to protect her."
"What, you saying I'm a coward?!"
"Calm down," the Pokémon growled softly, "I swear you're being about as testy as the runt of a Mankey family."
"No, I-!
I..."
Rowan paused uncertainly.
"I dunno what that is."
"No, I suppose you wouldn't... Well, no matter, you get the point. I'm not criticising you of being anything. But surely even you will admit that acting so recklessly on her behalf is more than a mere friendship..."
Rowan spread his hands helplessly, and when the act fell unheeded, he paced around the flickering lantern for half a minute, before responding in a confiding tone,
"We've known each-other for a long time. Pretty much our whole lives, actually."
"Oh?" said the Pokémon, unable to prevent his mind from immediately jumping to himself and Illume.
"I..." the human continued awkwardly, as if his thoughts were requiring careful arrangement, "She... I... I didn't have a lot when I was a kid. I didn't really have anything. I needed help constantly and... she was there. Always. I really don't think it's much of a stretch to say that she saved my life.
I owe her more than I can ever repay.
I'd... hate to see her get hurt."
Silence reigned for an entire minute before Rowan realised the Pokémon's eyes were focused not on him, but on the flame that danced on the ground inside its prison of muddy, scratched glass.
"Hey!" he said, "Are you listening to me?!"
Howl blinked, returning from his reverie.
"I see," he said, "So that's your relationship. It's quite admirable.
I know many Pokémon who would be envious of such a friendship."
"Ah... Yeah, well..." Rowan made a non-committal grunt, but it was a relief to see his frown had vanished, and a small smile at the compliment had taken its place.
But the frown returned before long, though the accusatory tone that had accompanied it had relaxed slightly.
"So your concern is for her safety, rather than yours," said Howl, "and until you knew who I was, you had no reason to feel it was threatened... but how about now, human? Surely you can trust me now..."
Rowan met his gaze and his mouth hung as if about to answer.
He looked wistful, but his mouth closed again before long.
"No?" said the Demon, "Really?"
The Lucario's shoulders slumped as weary breath fell in a huff from his snout.
Then an idea struck him; brought on by no more than the thought of how Chatot might respond to this kind of reception.
"I suppose... while I have said I'll protect you before, it hasn't been the formal mode of promising to protect a client.
I'll swear an oath to you, Rowan. Will that help you to trust me?"
"You'll... what? Right now?"
"Right now," the Pokémon concurred.
"What'll you swear by?" the human queried.
"I'll leave that up to you."
The human pondered this.
He began to pace idly once more, and finally when he looked up again, it was still a mere hesitance without reply.
"Yes...?" the Pokémon prodded.
"Swear by..." said Rowan, feeling for the words, "Swear by... all the memories you have of...
of your old partner. Illume."

Howl felt all the nerves in his legs struck dumb so that he was unsure whether he was standing or kneeling. Every individual strand of hair on his body bristled so that it looked as if an electric current had shot upwards through him.

His voice hoarse, his heart suddenly beating like Trill the Pidgey's wings as they'd beat the bars of her cage, he swallowed, staring at the human.
"How... How could you possibly...?
"I don't know how that mind-talking of yours works," said Rowan, looking almost as nervous as he'd done when Howl had made his appearance,
"but you mumble in your sleep. You were saying a name over and over. Some other stuff too.
I couldn't help hearing!"

Howl breathed deeply until he felt himself growing more steady.

"Well..." he said quietly, "That's one point to you, Rowan."
"Wh-What're you doing? Why're you-?" Rowan asked as he crossed the small distance the human had withdrawn and bent to one knee at the ground before him, one paw at his chest, the other beside his foot, eyes closed, voice clear and sharp, and his ears and tail as low as he could hold them:
"Rowan Jovani; Human. By my own honour, on the name of my guild - Wigglytuff's Guild... and... by the memory of my lifelong companion, Illume... I, Howl, apprentice, swear I will guard and escort you and Sally Luna with all my life and limb, either until my body is crushed beyond repair, or until your sanctuary is acquired."

He lifted his head, and was surprised to find his client's face even more flushed than it had been before.
"Well?" he asked when his words gained no reply.
"W-Well what?"
"Do you accept this oath? Or do I need to add some more conditions?"
"N-No! Of course you... wait, wait, I mean... Yes. I accept the..."
He trailed off briefly, but added with some solidity in his voice before much time had passed,
"I accept your oath."
Howl's ears and tail returned to their usual posture, and he stood to his full height while extending his right paw for the human to shake.
And with that, the tension that had been weighing over the little space they occupied was lifted. The human seemed to relax at last, and Howl felt the breath flow more gently from his lungs, unaware that he had been subconsciously holding it as the oath had been made.

Howl decided presently that it would be wise for them both to return to their half-set campsite, but Rowan requested he be left alone for a few minutes more.
He was reluctant, but Howl did not refuse him this; many clients of his guild days had been unaccustomed to the sort of chaos that Feral and Mystery Dungeons could bring, and if one of his first ever human clients needed time to process all that had happened in solitude, then so be it, he thought.
Though he did not leave before giving the human a polite reminder that they were not alone in their travels, and that he ought not to linger for too long.
A polite reminder that was punctuated by a light warning that if he had not returned by the time the Demon had checked on Sally and asked after her condition, he would have no qualms about hauling him back if necessary.
For the client's own safety, of course.

When he had drawn level to the gently-glowing golden Aura, he felt a current of surprise at the sounds that greeted him:
The crackle of fire, the gently bubbling of boiling liquid, and the voice of the human client hailing him.
He opened his eyes and saw Sally stirring the contents of a copper pot, and her mouth curved in a cautious half-smile while her eyes seemed to ask how he felt.
He registered her question, and answered,
"Just talking to Rowan as a matter of fact. He says he'll be on his way back soon. I was going to look for you next."
"Me? Why? I was only gone for about ten-"
-but Howl's eyes had flicked to a spot above her head, where Pidgey had awoken from apparent slumber on the tree branch and flown towards Howl's outstretched fist, twittering words which Sally had no means to understand save for the expressions that flitted across the Pokémon's faces in turn.
"Ten minutes?" Howl asked, addressing the human, "What were you doing?"
"Uhh... lavatory things, you know."
"That's not what our friend here tells me."
"W-What? What do you - Was she spying on m-"
"She says she saw you pacing in the field, kicking stones and pine-cones about, showing all the signs she could distinguish of somebody in distress."
The little flying Pokémon lilted briefly, drawing the Demon's gaze away from Sally's reddening cheeks.
"And that you were there for at least twenty minutes before you finally made your way back," he added.
The Pidgey caught wind of the expression aimed at her and took flight at once while Howl moved over to sit beside the human.
"Your eyes are red," he commented.
"So are yours," she replied with an elusive smile.
"That's not what I mean, and you know it."
"Excuse me?"
"Why did you really wander off? Was it because of what I said?"
"No! I mean, it was unnerving to see you... like that. But no. I just... needed some time alone, is all."
"You and Rowan both, it seems... but he at least confessed I was the problem."
"It's not you!"
"Then what were you crying about?"

Sally's face veered from emotion to emotion at the question that was almost more akin to accusation.
Then she balled her fists around the folds of her cloak and clenched her eyes shut tight.
"Did you... Did you actually see the family in the wagon?" she asked after a minute,
"Did you catch much of our conversation?"
"I didn't see them clearly," he responded, "but I overheard some of your conversation."
"Then you know how kind they were to us?"
"I caught enough to know you weren't in danger, but..."
"Did you know it was because of them that the guards found out we were in town?"

The Guardian said nothing. Sally's voice had changed as she'd spoken, and even Pidgey who
had alighted from the air above to rest on top of his head was able to asses her emotions.

"She... They betrayed us," Sally continued in a murmur, a tremble escaping her voice which her tired, beaten, frightened body retained no strength to hold back,
"Just like that, no hesitation, no... nothing! Just turned us in for the gold!" she seethed on, the image of Helen's disappointed face vivid like the sun in her mind,
"And... And she - Helen, the mother, she was so ni-...
No... No, not 'nice', she was... she was kind to us! She treated our wounds, gave us medicine to take, worried over us...!
She was... She was like what a real-"
But through the torrent of bitter emotion, she just managed to stop herself in time and swallow down the final word.
She held her gaze towards the boiling pot and resumed stirring through its contents with the cleanest stick she could find.
Her face was set, determined not to show the emotions that her voice had already given away, and she waited stoutly for their guide to inquire further on what she had been about to say.
Then his voice broke the silence at last,
"She must have been conflicted about doing it. I doubt it was an easy decision if she was as kind as you say."
Sally scoffed.
"Doesn't matter, she still did it," she replied coldly, "and she looked more like she was upset with us than with anybody else, so she can't have felt that guilty."
"Perhaps she felt betrayed when she found out you were criminals."
Sally stammered for speech, incredulous.
"What does it matter?!" she burst out, "Why are you taking her side?!"
"Because you're allowing your anger to cloud your judgement and fabricate her as some kind of wicked, self-serving individual. That's far beneath one such as you."
Sally stammered again, and he quickly intervened, "I don't know you or Rowan's full stories... There could be a perfectly just reason to why you might feel this way, or there might not. What we Civilised Pokémon know for certain, however, is that painting anybody as wholly bad doesn't do anyone any favours, not for even yourself.
Don't humans grow up with their carers telling them stories of understanding and sympathy? Even with those who have done us wrong?
While there are certainly some roads that any with a conscience would be unwilling to go down, choosing to simply label those who draw near to is as 'bad' is to wilfully ignore the bigger picture.
The message of all those childhood stories we're told is that it doesn't take a bad Poké-... a bad person to do bad things.
Condemn, even hate the wrongs that are inflicted on us... but never the individual. Especially when that individual shows anyone acts of genuine kindness."

Sally could do little more than stare, her expression almost inscrutable but for the intense glow of her widened eyes.
There was little for either one to see the other's expressions by, for their surroundings were sombrely lit but for the fountain of sparks that leapt from their fire every minute so.
Finally she managed to continue her intermittent stirring of the copper pot and picked her way through to the words of her response with care.
"No," she answered after failing to assert the complexity of her emotions, "I can't say we humans are told that when we're kids. Or... ever, really."
"Ah," the Pokémon replied quietly, "Well. Now you know."
Sally felt a little flutter in her chest at the remark. Then before she'd had time to figure what the feeling had even been, she found herself laughing almost uncontrollably so that she had to let go of the stick and clasp her hand over her mouth, preventing the mirth from growing too loud.
Once she had collected herself, she saw that their guide had taken over the duty of stirring in her absence, and with his expression more strongly-lit by the flames, she queried,
"Isn't that quite a thing for kid Pokémon to be told? A pretty large concept for them to grasp?"
"Not at all," the Pokémon admonished, "It's the perfect time for them to learn it. Children's minds are much more impressionable. It's important to start teaching them the idea of learning to see the bigger picture as early as one can."
Sally couldn't imagine the predicament of telling a child of her own about philosophy. But then she'd never had much thought of becoming a parent herself, so perhaps there was no need to imagine it.
She watched Howl stirring the food and wondered if he might had children waiting for him back in the Forest.
Or perhaps yet, what his own childhood had been like. Who his 'carer' had been. And for almost a full minute she went over the ways in her head she might phrase her questions, but decided against them in the end. He would tell her if he wanted her to know. And in truth, she found the prospect of asking him to tell her to be a daunting one.

After some time, perhaps ten minutes or even half an hour, the sound of footsteps resolved themselves into the familiar form of Rowan, panting from the strain of the uphill climb and face soon alighted with glee from the sounds and smells that greeted him from the boiling pot - now with its contents being tipped carefully into mugs for each of them beside some sliced bread from the market.
The Pokémon helped themselves to gathered herbs and roots, and as had been the case the previous night (which they could hardly believe to have been no more than twenty-four hours ago), the Pokémon allowed the humans to try any of their own foods.
Feeling it were only an act of courtesy at that point, Sally washed down the peculiar root with a gulp of soup from her own mug and looked over to the two Pokémon.
"So..." she began, their guide's gaze fixing upon her in a moment, "Would you like anything?"
His ears gave their little speculative twitch, and she added for clarification:
"Some of our food. To try, I mean."
His gaze fell to the mat she indicated, and she saw him shift slightly, his tail giving an involuntary swish. He was tempted.
He singled out a small huddle of miniature quiches, packed to the brim with mushroom and spinach, and she happily let them toast in the pot over the fire before handing a couple to him, managing to repress her smile as his entire fur coat bristled at the bare heat of the little things resting between his paws.

Finally, when their appetites were sated and the gleam of the fire had begun to dim, Sally felt herself nodding off into gradual slumber, and would no doubt have surrendered to it happily
had it not been for the deep voice of their guide creeping into her drifting thoughts, and his paw placing a handful of kindle onto the glowing embers before she could do so.
The tone of his voice held her attention without struggle, however.
"Sally... Rowan..." he said gently,
"I... I need to apologise to you two. What I said earlier... it was wrong. Unjustifiable. I was... angry. You two couldn't be further from the likes of them... You're every bit as kindly and trustworthy as Emmia.
Well... that is... if she's as I remember her."
By now, Sally's fatigue had crept away as if it had never come, and every separate sense she had was focused in full capacity on the Guardian's words.
He went on, eyes gazing sombrely into the flickering embers, as if he were speaking more to himself,
"It's strange... I never thought I'd be nervous at the thought of seeing her again.
I left because I had to... From what I'd heard from fleeing sky-roamers and sea-dwellers, things were...
And I know I made the right decision. Finding the survivors and captives, taking the Forest from the Feral, creating a safe place for anyone who needed protection... I don't question any of that... but...
Four years.
It's been four years - maybe even five since the day I left.
I worry about how that time has changed her...
Has she really been alone all this time? Has she managed to cope?
What if she loathes me when we finally meet again? How will she react when I tell her I can't stay?
I just..."
He shook his head, and each human saw to their amazement that true unease was etched into his expression, and neither of them dared say a word over him,
"I don't know..." he finished at last, "I'm... uneasy.
How can I possibly tell her all that's happened?
How can I possibly make up for all these years away?"

The delicate flames hissed and spat; the distant murmur of the sleeping Pokémon below had faded into silence; and still Sally and Rowan were at a loss what to say. Neither of them would have had the faintest inkling to their guide showing such a vulnerable side to them, much less about the very keeper of the sanctuary they were seeking.
Then his shoulders began to bounce, and Sally thought for a crazed moment that it were of sobs.
But it was a quiet, gentle laughter, almost imperceptible even among the silence of the night.
She sensed Rowan lean in close and felt him whisper,
"He's daffy...! He's completely out of his mind!
I told you that the blood loss would have some-"
but their guide's voice cut through,
"And how would you know what a Pokémon's mind is like, Rowan?"
Rowan gave a little yelp, and Sally knew she would have laughed at the sound under any other circumstances.
Yet now, the laughter simply did not come.
She gazed over the fading embers at the Demon of The Forest with melting, piteous eyes, and he simply shook his head, some of his more familiar subtleties returning to his bearing, and he seemed to rouse himself as he asked mildly,
"Why am I telling you this...? Sorry. Don't mind me, I'm just... just venting."
"Don't apologise," said Sally at once, "You're the last one out of all of us who needs to apologise for being frustrated."
"You're too kind," he said, smiling, "But that's no excuse for my earlier behaviour."
"Y-Yeah, that... wasn't nice," she admitted, "But... we knew you didn't mean it really."
"And so you took off because...?"
She twisted her mouth, glanced to Rowan for some support, but found him to be watching her inertly, and knew the responsibility was all on her to answer.
"That... wasn't right of us. So... we should apologise for that too. Really sorry for that, Howl."
"Sorry," Rowan concurred, and his tone was genuine, for all the assistance he had given her.
The Pokémon waved away their apologies, but it was with an air of ease rather than that of scorn.

The humans became more relaxed as the conversation waned, and their bodies became slacker as the burning flames receded into embers once again. Howl felt his own concentration giving way, and would have liked nothing more than to lay his back against the dusty earth and let the exhaustion he had been wrestling back finally carry him away, in the company of the few human friends he had ever made, with the almost dream-like blackness of the sky shadowing them from all that might do them harm.
To his surprise, however, it was Pidgey who swept in as his voice of rationality, hopping lightly to the end of his muzzle and hurling miniature gusts if wind into his eyes with her wings.
"We gotta go," she said, "The other Pokémon will wonder where you've gone if you fall asleep here."
He dug his claws into the earth at his side and clenched a small mound of it in his paw before forcing his eyes open, murmuring his agreement and labouring to his feet.
Sally found her drifting attention suddenly breached when Howl stood, lost his balance and had to clutch on to the nearby solitary tree to reclaim it.

"What's happening?" she asked, preparing to wake Rowan, but the Pokémon explained swiftly.
"But what if we need you?" she asked, realising how childish her jumbled voice had sounded in saying it.
"This one says she is small and inconspicuous, and won't be easily missed if she stays behind. If there's any trouble, she'll come and get me."
"Oh," Sally responded, her eye catching that of the Pidgey's for what she thought might have been the very first time.
"Tell her that's very thoughtful, and we appreciated it."
The Pokémon spoke in his gruff, incomprehensible tongue, and though she understood neither it nor the reply that came, she thought she saw the bodily signs of resignation, or perhaps even irritation in the Pidgey.
Nevertheless, he wore a wry smile as he translated for her briefly,
"She says you're welcome."
She smirked back, and watched him depart, letting the Pidgey flutter in the air before vanishing beyond the light of the dying fire's reach.
No sooner had he gone, then the Pidgey seemed to hesitate, then followed after him, though she could tell it was simply to see him off.

"Glad to see you're not so wary of them anymore," he said as they neared the base of the little hill.
"Just don't want you to worry, is all," she admonished, adding, "They won't try anything, though, will they? Humans don't eat Pidgeys... right?"
"Even if they did, why would they want you? You're... tiny."
"Humans can't fly, can they?"
"You know they can't, miss. You're quite safe, as you well know. You volunteered to watch over them, after all."
"I dunno..." she mused, tailing off into a volley of doubtful mutterings.
Howl turned round and lifted his palm to her feet, saying, "I did tell you in the Mystery Dungeon that they were different, didn't I? And by the looks of things, you're starting to make that realisation for yourself.
But I know it can't be easy for you, considering... well, everything that's happened to you because of their kind. It means a great deal to me that you'd do such a thing. Truly, thank you."
"Said it already, I'm not really doing it for them..."
"All the same, though."
The Pidgey nodded, more to herself than to his words, and hovered again, ready to return to her post.
"I won't let you down," she said, "I'll keep 'em just as safe as you would.
Goodnight, mister."
"Goodnight, Trill."
She smiled and fluttered away, and he made his steady course towards where he would be seen, but not disturbed by the other sleepers.

Then,
"Wait a minute!"
Trill came fluttering back to his side and spoke so loudly he had to shush her on behalf of their distant company,
"You just called me by name! Who told you my name?! And now you start using it?! After a day-and-a-stinking-half?!"
"The old Charizard told me. Was it a secret?"
"Why'd you never ask?! What's your name then?!"
She asked the second question before waiting half a second for an answer to the first, and he responded plainly,
"It's Howl, alright? I'm Howl. Now, I'm going to sleep.
Goodnight to you."
-and with nary a glance back at her stifled muttering and half-spoken words, he moved on, with a little more haste than before.

"Howl?" the Pidgey pondered as she too made her trek through the dark, "That's... weird. Why would he be named...?
...Ohh.
...Ohh!
That... actually makes sense. A lot of sense. Really suits somebody like... him."

The Scyther's blades tore at the flesh of his forearms that had rose in defence, a blur of steely-white moving too fast for the eye to follow, yet Howl forced his senses through the pain and found the rhythm of its blows, ducking below its flailing arms and preparing to strike its middle, yet the Shadow's reflexes were as keen as his own, and no sooner had he dove down than it had raised its leg as if to kick, yet through sheer adrenaline, the wounded, desperate Lucario opened his palm a mere nanosecond in time and caught the speeding foot between them, propelling himself forwards on his powerful, evolved legs and flinging the appendage skyward, forcing his vicious quarry to fall onto their back, their skull poised to meet his speeding Force Palm with all the strength its owner could muster.
Then the abominable creation was gone. No sooner had the strike connected, and its target had vanished in a spark of ominous, amethyst-hued smoke.
Howl the apprentice was never to witness it, however; he had barely seized his advantage over the Scyther when another Shadow had been fast approaching to claim its place, and the sole Guild-Mon had no remaining senses strong enough to have detected it.
The Shadow-cursed Machamp crashed into him, wrapping two of its arms around him and crushing his ribs in its grasp while its two extra arms held it steady as it skidded against the earth, where it pinned his arms down and began to drive its fist into the spot where his head would have been, had the Lucario not turned to the lesser-used of all his Moves; Detect, at the moment he had realised himself to be trapped. Though the speeding fist cracked and slid against his left cheek, it did not land a clean blow. The fist plunged into the ash-strewn earth and anchored itself in place, and the second of the Machamp's fists was drawn back for another attempt, and Howl had no room now to shift his head out the way, and through maddening desperation, he rushed Aura into each of his palms, charging separate Spheres in each, overfilling them in but a single moment and small, uncontrolled bursts of Aura erupted with the near-entirety of their impact being felt in the wrists of the Shadow.
The Machamp's fingers convulsed and Howl wrenched his paws free just in time to intercept the approaching left-shoulder-fist with Force Palm, blasting it away but cutting himself on the cheek as his paws ricochet back, carrying their spikes with them.
Directly before him, occupying every corner of his vision, he saw the void within the Shadow's chest and ploughed his fist inside with all his adrenaline-fuelled power as if to aim for its beating heart.
The Shadow's glowing eyes blazed as its body was sent into a tumult of shuddering convulsions, and as its own body was wreathed in the amethyst, sparking energy, it surged across Howl's arm and enveloped him too, veiling him beneath purple streaks of electric currents which felt as though an iron hand had grasped ahold of his entire being and made to crumple it up like a wad of paper.
He had no breath with which to yell, no strength with which to struggle and break loose. But before long, the Shadow had vanished, taking the surge of abyssal, otherworldly light along with it, leaving the Guild Pokémon to collapse in the centre of ash-strewn square.
His head spun, his throat was raw, and every individual strand of fur across his body felt as though it were ablaze. But throughout every moment of battle and bodily torment, his mind had not relinquished the thought of his fleeing comrades, and even now it flared his insides, igniting his will, finding his hidden reserves of strength, and he slid unsteadily to his knees and made to push himself up - but the arm he had used to defeat the Shadow merely hung limp at his side, heedless of the commands his mind gave it.
A buzzing sensation coursed through it from the shoulder to the fingers, not unlike when it had fallen asleep, but through the numbness was an insurmountable ache in the bones as if each of them bad been fractured across the middle.
Even as he tried to flex his fingers, they remained lifeless.
Here, in the midst of the most gruelling battle of his entire skirmish-filled life, he had managed to lose the use of his arm to such an extent that he would not even be able to charge an Aura Sphere with it.

A crash from somewhere behind, and he spun to face its source just as he saw the rocky capsule fracture down the centre in all directions, criss-crossing its surface like an Ariados' web, before the containment shattered and out came what could be no less than twenty Shadow-cursed Zubat, Noibat and Golbat, and then they were all around him, their cries ravaging his eardrums and claws tearing at his flesh without mercy.

Through the silence of the mountain range, Sally found her course a surprisingly easy one, for all that she had volunteered to leave the lantern behind and navigate her way solely by the glistening moon.
Despite her fatigue, the lure of sleep had eluded her, and after what had seemed an eternity of perpetual dark, she had seized her chance the second the moon had revealed itself, reached into her luggage, pulled the item of choice out, and crept down the pathway on silent feet.
She had kept low and moved as close as she had dared towards the still-burning fire in the midst of the sleeping escapee Pokémon, but no matter where she had looked, she had not been able to spot the familiar form of their guide anywhere among them.
Now, her eyes guided towards her objective by the moon's rays bouncing off the water's surface, she weaved her way through the tall grass towards the pond, her pulse still speeding from just how close she had drawn to the sleeping creatures.
Her course reached the water sooner than she had expected, and she stepped ankle-deep into its bitingly-cold depths, only just managing to grit her teeth and contain her voice.
A soft grunt met her ears, and she looked towards its source find her target in plain sight, his head propped against a small log, and body splayed out on the dusty earth facing the pond.
The pale light from the heavens illuminated his dirt-covered, matted fur, and his brow glistened with sweat as his whole being shook with another gasp or moan, only for it to be swiftly cut off before she could discern which it had been.
She made to approach, to place the item on the ground beside him, but realised no; the sound of it might awaken or alert him, and she withdrew a couple steps even further before placing the thing down before her and reaching quietly into her pocket.

It was all a phantasmagoria now; crimson, purple, glistening white fangs flashing across his sight, flapping wings, sharpened points seeking every bare patch of flesh on his being.
His eyes clenched shut, his body enveloped in an almost literal tornado of racing shapes, he roared skyward in rage and anguish, and from every part of him, his Aura surged outwards, billowing the attackers away without even his full awareness, let alone his command.
A nearby, singular screeched drew his wide, twitching, bone-dry eyes towards a solitary Golbat who seemed to have taken the least of the impact and swerved round for a counter-attack.
Thoughts in the Lucario's mind were beginning to abandon him, and indeed there was little use for them now.
But the emotions that were beginning to stir within him were overwhelming, almost beyond description. They urged him forth, and he bared his fangs at his quarry, sprinting to meet their assault with an outstretched paw, claws ready to snatch them down from the empty air.

The Pokémon's sounds of discontent were growing, and not just in their volume. His trembling body was beginning to writhe, twist and turn, making Sally almost sickened to witness it.
She had thought her present actions secretive, perhaps even disingenuous, but now that she saw the extent his suffering amounted to, her doubts had been thoroughly erased.
She remembered how vehemently the shopkeeper had spoken of the product in question, how close to obstinate he had been about its effectiveness in the face of her hesitance, and she found herself hoping very much that every word had been sincere as she struck a second match - successfully this time - and held its flame towards thecandle in its glass jar, delicate-looking leaves and colourful petals stuffed among the wax, and after letting the wick burn for a few moments, she leaned in close to place it besides the sleeper.

The Golbat's barely recognisable body vanished amidst the glow, and Howl wrenched his claws free before the energy could do him harm a second time. His racing mind latched onto the sensation of rushing air and he flung out a paw almost at random, his fingers closing round a thin, airborne leg and he brought it down, crashing it into the earth. A moment later, the Shadow Noibat met its end at his claws just as its predecessor had done.
Howl tried to gather himself, tried to regain some control over himself, but it was as if the very chaos of the battle was seeping into his being.
He looked heavenward and saw the flock of Shadows he had blown away circling him above, but there was something peculiar about them.
The Shadows were not beings capable of emotion such as fear, or thought such as strategy. Their movements looked ragged, certainly, as if they had sustained damage to their wings, but there was a kind of indecisive pattern to them.

Then something broke through the torrent of his mind.
A voice.
An unfamiliar, but instantly recognisable voice.
Slow, dark and confiding; murmuring, almost purring to him from within his very own mind, so that it carried through even the surrounding chaos and the thundering blood as it raced through his ears.

"Well now... isn't that a surprise..."

Then the surroundings changed in but a single heartbeat; The static Zubats and their company evaporating as if struck down in one fell sweeping strike; The remaining rocks crumbled in the middle of their descent, their occupants joining their kin in bodiless slumber; and the dark, swirling skies above relinquished their clouds, allowing the crimson glow of the blood-red sun to suffuse the burning, rubbled remains of Treasure Town in its tinge.
Though he was indeed in a nightmare, not a detail was a mere figment of the horror in his subconscious mind: Everything he witnessed was precisely as it had been and vivid as though he had stepped back in time.
And through it all, the silence reigned absolute, with not a stir of leaves or the running of waters, or the crack of embers atop the piles of rubble all around.
Nothing but the endless ringing in his ears.
His breath rose and fell in hot wafts before his face as he heard that calm, almost gentle voice in his mind continue to observe, speaking with the same eloquent and intelligent-sounding tone that Chatot had used, as though the owner was learned beyond imagining.

"I thought it must be the Guild Pokémon, returning at last from their cowering, ready to meet their fates... but only one of you... Only one...
And here I had felt the need to restock my supply of puppet-warriors before I faced you again...
You don't have the faintest inkling to what's happened here, do you, Civilised cub? Now where could they be, your guild comrades...? Where are the townsfolk? Oh the questions you must have..."

Howl spun round to face every direction he could, feeling as though it required every mote of his will to not collapse to the ground and be sick.
The voice had a profound effect on the battle-worn Pokémon.
He had feared for that of his comrades, feared for his clients too, but never before had the mere thought of seeing, imagining the face he was about to see filled him with such cold, unyielding, nameless dread before.
He dreaded the voice speaking even a word further, trembled at the prospect of witnessing the nightmare of a face that must accompany such a voice.

"I know you're a Guild Pokémon, young Lucario. Because you must be.
No idle town-folk runt-of-the-litter could stand against one of my warriors... and you've defeated no less than dozens...
Perhaps you have an idea as to where the warriors of your guild would hide if their town were assailed like this..."

Howl had been weighing his options frantically in his mind all the while, and had arrived at the conclusion that if Giratina was indeed capable of flight, that his best option would be to lure him towards the mountain, towards the guild's clifftop entrance. There would be less mobility for Howl, but less room for his quarry to summon more of his so-called "puppet warriors". From there, he would make his stand. Either the army of Shadows would continue to torment him, or the leader of the army in question would personally wish to face him. If it came to the latter, perhaps a chance would reveal itself and he would be able to escape, either sliding down the mountain to level ground, or perhaps even find a way out by delving into the guild itself.
And if those escape plans were to fail him...
Well, he had known the risks. So long as he put up a fight, his mission would be a success. His comrades, his family would have the time they needed to escape.
He looked all around him again for the source of the voice, gazing up once more into the crimson sky for some dark, looming figure imprinted on the heavens. But no form revealed itself.
And still, even as he searched, the voice continued ponderously,
"Perhaps they're simply lying in wait... hoping I'll leave their little town be so they can creep out of the rubble and begin anew..."
Howl began to move, began to run, and then a sharp, whip-like pain slashed across his legs and he fell flat onto his front, rolling round to face the one who had used the Move Slash.
But again, no matter where his gaze fell, no opponent met his eye.
The dark voice in his mind sighed exasperatedly, and with it Howl felt a flow of wind sweep over the town square and ruffle against his fur.
Then he blinked, and in the millisecond that his eyes took to open and close, his view was obscured almost completely by a great, towering, coal-black figure that seemed to be formed out of the very dark of the night, looming over him perhaps ten times his size.
"Perhaps... you were about to lead me to them, Civilised cub..." concluded the voice as its owner stooped his great, elongated neck down to catch the eye of his prey,
"How very thoughtless of you..."

"There..." Sally whispered, after trying to waft the smell of the candle towards him for about a minute, "I hope this works... I really do.
If there were ever anybody who deserved peaceful sleep it'd be... well."
She gazed down at the Pokémon, and her hand went out towards his head without conscious thought. Just before her fingers came into contact with his fur, however, the memory of the incident in the cave resurfaced, and she hesitated, her unease wrestling hard against compassion.

Howl's throat had been parched by the sight that met him, so that he could not have responded even if he had somehow wanted to.
The figure before him was of a kind of Pokémon he had never thought to exist.
Body covered from head to toe in the inky blackness of the abyss, great Zubat-like wings stood out gigantic against the crimson of the sky, and eyes - red, like his own, but of a more soulless, calculating and brutal shade than his had ever come close to, and bearing no visible pupils.
Giratina's blood-red orbs stared straight into his helpless gaze with a wicked malevolence that felt as if clawed hands had grasped ahold of his brain and were pressing their points inside with enough agony to make his eyes roll back in his skull and his heart seem to leap upward into his dehydrated throat.
Suddenly, a vine, or a tentacle - some unidentifiable form of a limb shot outward from Giratina's side and coiled itself around Howl's body, over and over and over until it wrapped itself once around his throat, its end sharpening into a pale-white, singular claw which settled on his skull.
"It's over now, young one..." said the self-proclaimed Emissary of Nature, vocally now, and as he did so, vile, ancient breath that felt it could boil oceans pressed down into the Lucario's fur, and Giratina grinned, his mouth a gaping mass of slavering fangs.
Trapped.
Powerless.
Helpless.
His end so very near.
Shining, carnivorous teeth poised to sink into his body.
An impalpable fear and incomprehensible anger.

"Oh...? What's this...?"
So slightly only its target could have known it, the restriction on Howl's windpipe slackened.
Giratina drew himself nearer, secure in the knowledge that his quarry was thoroughly restrained.
"Can it be...?
But surely...
In a guild... surely not...
Ohh...
Oh-ho-ho, yes...
It is!
You are...!"
Giratina's vice-like grip relented even more, and Howl stared back with eyes blazing with hatred and teeth has drawn as he could make them.
"Do they know, young one...?
Did your guild ever find out...?"

The glowing red of Giratina's eyes enveloped his vision, but then from what felt like across the boundaries of reality, something extraordinary slithered its way into his thoughts.
A sense of calm. The most wonderful breath of air passing effortlessly into his lungs, the most mellow of flavours entering his nostrils and settling delicately on the back of his tongue.

Finally, as her fatigue caught up with her and began to envelop the contending emotions within her in its haze, the last to vanish was that of compassion, and she placed a hand against the fur of his head, between his ears and smoothed her palm over it gently.
She was alarmed to find just how soft it was, for all that it was covered in filth and tangled over, and for all the character its owner had shown.
Then she stood and turned, disappearing into the dark, leaving their guide to his blissful rest.

Treasure Town had vanished all around him.
His nightmare antagonist was nowhere to be seen, and he knew, in that special dream way, that he had quite simply vanished along with the rest of the horrors he had been forced to relive.
He was not among the destroyed remains of his hometown now; he was running, sprinting across a verdant field, an old Vulpix acquaintance of his bounding gracefully ahead of him, her happy voice carried back to him on the breeze, daring him, urging him to catch up.
He was not an evolved Pokémon any longer, but a child, a Riolu again, with all the cares and concerns of adulthood left quite behind him, wherever that happened to be in this familiar, yet untraceable paradise they were in.

Then as his vision was obscured by the curtain of tall grass again, his surroundings changed again, and somehow he was aware of the change before it had even happened.

He was in The Forest, with the performers singing their slow, low-yet-joyous winter melody as shining snowflakes descended from the heavens and glistened in the light of the moon and the fires all around - and were tossed and blown sideways by he and Mist as they held fast in each-other's arms and danced and swerved to the performers' tune, slowly, gracefully, hardly leaving a trace in the snow as they moved, and Mist's face the happiest he had ever seen it, a delicate flush on her cheeks that had puzzled him at the time, and did so even now in the dream.

He was seated among his forest-companions, celebrating loudly their stoic victory, their mighty, daring rescue of no less than thirty captive Pokémon at once, all alive and without permanent injury, laughing with Gurdurr's merciless recontinuance of the human's panicked faces, clasping his sparring rival Hawlucha on the back only to be clasped back in return.

Himself and the two sisters Mist and Knoll, the former a Kirlia still and the latter only a Ralts sat quietly together round the fire they had lit inside a cave to escape the downpour, and how he had awoken to find their little bodies nestled close to him on each side, pressing as close as they could into his warm fur, their hands linked together at his chest.

The memories swirled and merged together, overlapping and rippling like the surface of the water until, many hours later, he awoke to the sun's gentle dawn-light on his eyes, pulling his almost struggling mind from the depths of a sleep so beautiful he could not bear to let it go.
His mind clung helplessly on to the final vision that had swam before him, desperately trying to wrap him in its warm embrace again, but there was no arguing with the sun, and finally he awoke to the still, quiet isolation of the mountain, feeling the aches and pains in his joints begin to creep back into the forefront of his focus, and he gasped from the sudden spear of it that shot through him as he tried to sit up.
A final lingering waft of that otherworldly scent was carried towards his muzzle by a gentle breeze, and his mind wandered to a memory so distant that he wondered briefly whether it had really happened or if it had been a part of the dream.
But as the details of the memory grew in clarity and quantity, he knew his doubts were unfounded.
It had been when he was still a young Riolu, a mere year or perhaps slightly more since he and Illume had first joined Wigglytuff's Guild.
He had misjudged the flow of the battle, and had paid the price for it. The Feral Aerodactyl had seen an opening in his defences and swooped down upon him, savaging the fledgling warrior until his companions had leapt to his rescue.
He had been immediately returned to the guild and treated to a full recovery, but the damage had been more than just superficial.
The small but powerful wing of Chatot had settled over his back as the aforementioned Pokémon had slipped his head underneath for support, and lifted the little Riolu to his feet speaking over the young one's frightened moans.
"Up now, Howl, all the way up. There are helpless civilians out there who need our Guild-Mon on their feet."
But at this, the Riolu had collapsed to his knees and sobbed without restraint, his paws clamping shut across his torso at the opposing shoulders.
"I can't, Chatot..." he had mumbled through streaming tears, "I don't want... I'm scared. It hurt so much... It still hurts so much..."
"Now now, my boy..." the Flying-Type had lilted, his voice uncharacteristically soft, "You have nothing to fear. You're a Guild Pokémon. You're a natural warrior. You don't need to fear the Feral... Quite the contrary as a matter of fact. If they aren't already, they should be afraid of you. You're strong. Mighty, even. None of them come close to even matching you, Howl. And as for the pain... well... there's only one silver lining to be found in that, really. Embrace the pain, little one. Let it flow freely and strengthen you with every step you take. No matter how great it is, in the end serves as firm, absolute proof that you are still alive. Proof that, in addition to all else you endured as a mere hatchling, you can even survive losing to a Feral as... demonic as that one.
Not just because you're a Guild Pokémon, or because you've had an excellent teacher like myself... but because you're you."
Howl the Riolu had fallen silent at the words, and paused in his sniffing to look up with tear-streamed eyes.
"Relish the pain, my brave little protégé. For it is the proof that no matter the nature of the horrors that brought it about, despite it all, you are still here, alive.
You can't win every battle...
but you, Howl... you can survive anything.
The Feral and criminals of the land will never have a prayer of escaping you."

From across the sea of grass, a Pokémon voice called in search of him, and he opened his eyes fully to the sky.
He flexed his arms and legs tenderly, and when his body didn't punish him for it, sat up and looked around, noticing at last the little glass jar at his side from which the unidentified miraculous scent originated.
But where had it come from? Who had placed it there beside him?
He picked it up and inhaled what little remained of the scent before labouring to his feet and heading towards the voice to answer their call.