Chapter 12

Altruism

On the path coming from Blindhollow, a motley crew of Pokémon approached Squirtle and Quil where they stood at the fork in the road. The two Pokémon in the lead were in the midst of a discussion. One, Squirtle recognized as a Seviper. It did not slither, but inched forward while bunched up sinusoidally like an accordion. The Seviper seemed to be debating with the other, taller Pokémon in the lead, which Squirtle did not recognize. It looked like a Rapidash, but with a steely gray hide, jagged white stripes, and a stiff mane of white. Its tail terminated in a starburst of bright hair.

In fact, there was a Rapidash in the group, too. It walked on the gray and white Pokémon's other side, and a bit behind. Trailing it closely were a couple of very small Ponyta. Also present were a Bellossom gliding along with the Ponyta, and a Taillow who was perched atop the Rapidash's head behind its horn and between its ears. How it was not burned by the flaming mane was a mystery to Squirtle.

Squirtle glanced at Quil, but though the Cyndaquil seemed more rigid than he had been a moment ago, he made no move to hide himself. Nor did he indicate that Squirtle should do the same, so Squirtle remained in plain sight and waited for the party to approach.

"...and you can do that shock wave technique where everyone around you gets zipper zapped!" the Seviper was telling the gray and white Pokémon beside it. Its feminine but tomboyish tone was quite exuberant. "I'm telling you Hayzin, we could have wrapped up the whole issue and quashed it ourselves, if you helped us!"

The other Pokémon kept its gaze ahead, having already noticed and studied Squirtle and Quil. Its voice was that of a tolerant father replying slowly and patiently to some nonsense. "Delicate situations do not mandate hasty responses, Viper. What if I'd lost? She might have confined me to the Prison, yes? But hush now, it appears there are some fellow travelers on this road."

Quil, as usual, was not forthcoming in opening the conversation with strangers, so Squirtle said a simple, "Hello."

The party slowed to a stop. "Hiya!" greeted the Seviper. "Which way you going? Don't tell me you're going the direction we're coming from!"

Don't be too trusting, thought Squirtle. We don't know these Pokémon. What's their agenda? Why is such a diverse group traveling together?

"Actually, we hadn't yet decided which route to take. Why, what's wrong with that way?" He gestured toward the direction behind the group.

"What, you don't know where you're going? Ha! Let me give you some directions then!"

The Rapidash sighed and its eyes drifted away, as if it were embarrassed by the Seviper's talkativeness or something it had said. The Seviper opened its fanged mouth to say more, but the gray and white Pokémon cut it off.

"Forgive her, please. I'm sure you know where you're going. However, I can speak for all in my party when I advise you to not continue whence we came. Blindhollow is not the town it once was."

The two small Ponyta bobbed their heads approvingly, and the others made sounds of agreement. The Taillow, from the Rapidash's head, followed up with a high-pitched, sing-song, "I wouldn't go that way, not me!"

"Yeah," said the Seviper, "Raizula's gone all spingle-spangled in the head! Basically, it's her town now. She went on and on about tribute, and her glorious reign. Completely spangled!"

Squirtle and Quil shared a look. Squirtle asked, "Is this...Rye-zoo-la an Electric-type?"

Some of the Pokémon in the group exchanged looks of their own, and at the fore, the deep chest of the gray and white Pokémon rumbled – a knowing hum.

"So it wasn't just Blindhollow," the tall Pokémon said. "I was correct. Yes, Squirtle, Raizula is a Raichu. Her power is now immense, and she is not afraid of utilizing it for her wicked ends. That is why we caution against going there. Blindhollow is no longer that idyllic destination that so many have visited."

"Let me guess," put in the Seviper. "You're here to visit Wartortle's Seed Nursery? Well it's off-limits unless you give Raizula something she thinks pretty, something she likes. Which you'll have to do anyway if you want to leave. So don't even step into Blindhollow, that's spangle-talk!" Her head moved about as she talked, and her tongue darted out and in between some sentences.

Squirtle noticed Quil backing up very slowly. He still seemed tense. Squirtle could not determine why, as these Pokémon sounded genuine and helpful.

"I see. Thank you for the warning. May I ask where you are going instead?"

"Cavetown," said a few of the Pokémon at once, and the Taillow twittered in laughter. The gray and white Pokémon continued, "A place that is sure to be more peaceful, as Cavetown is known for its attraction to Grounders among others. We doubt that Zappers would be able to instigate any trouble in such an environment. Do you have any news of Cavetown?"

Squirtle wished he knew why his companion was backing up. He was put in an awkward position, as he could not continue a civilized discussion while Quil was so obviously uneasy, and he could not suddenly scuttle away with Quil for a private conference without being rude to the helpful Pokémon.

"We don't know about Cavetown," said Squirtle, "but we came from Karprest. It sounds like Blindhollow is experiencing similar issues. A Luxio by the name of Stolt deposed the mayor, and ordered some of his lackeys to kick us out because we weren't from around there."

"Say what?" cried the Seviper. Some of the others seemed to share the sentiment.

"Incredible. I actually know Stolt, personally," said the gray and white Pokémon. "Being a Zebstrika, and a fellow Electric, I once challenged him to a battle to compare our strengths. This was long ago, in my younger days. Back then I was traveling the world, seeing and learning as much as I could. But I digress." He snorted. "I never liked Stolt. I imagine you've seen the traits in him that I despised, yes? It is sad to hear what he has done."

Squirtle understood then why Quil was so on edge. The Pokémon addressing them did not only have a history as a fighter, but he was an Electric-type. Squirtle mentally kicked himself, as there was more than one indicator in the Zebstrika's appearance of Electric typing.

In turn, Squirtle could not help feeling a shiver run down his spine. In this Zebstrika was the same unnatural, phenomenal power that lived in Stolt. Flashes of memory from that dreadful morning assailed Squirtle, but he held fast and faced the Zebstrika.

By the same token, a question formed in Squirtle's mind. "If you're an Electric, and you've got other like-minded Pokémon on your side, why would you not unite against this Raizula? If I may ask?"

"Right?!" the Seviper practically shouted. "Hayzin, I keep telling you, and this Squirtle agrees with me!"

"Enough," the Rapidash said calmly. She stepped forward. "Hayzin's made his choice, and it is his choice to make, Viper. You are always welcome to return to Blindhollow if you disagree with him."

The chastised Seviper hissed as she looked away.

Hayzin, the Zebstrika, addressed Squirtle once more. "The situation in Blindhollow is not simple, and cannot be addressed by a simple battle, in my humble opinion. I believe that if we relocate for the time being, it would be better for my family and the ones who travel with us," He gestured with his muzzle at the Seviper, Taillow, and Bellossom.

He spoke with additional stress behind his words. Clearly, others in his party were not yet convinced. Squirtle was not either, but he'd have to see Blindhollow with his own eyes to be an accurate judge.

"My name is Hayzin," the Zebstrika pronounced, and flexed his great neck to lower his head.

Against his better judgment, Squirtle felt a pang of worry. Electric techniques could be delivered by contact, as in the case of Stolt shocking Keema the Meowth at Karprest. However, in his experience there had always been a visual indicator of an Electric technique being prepared, whether it be a glow or small arcs of electricity jumping about on the user's body. In this Zebstrika, there were no such warning signs, not even a stiffening of the mane hairs.

"Squirtle," he said, and rammed his head forward. Hayzin's four hooves held the Zebstrika stationary, and he pushed back with appropriate force. The large amount of practice he must have had showed. Nevertheless, Squirtle rebounded and maintained his balance. He hid a smile at the secret thrill he felt.

My first, real success at the introduction ritual! I bet at this point, I don't even come off as abnormal in any way to strangers. I'm just another Pokémon; it's great!

Quil exhibited reluctance at introducing himself, but both Hayzin and his Blindhollow companions maintained politeness by not mentioning it. Once that was done, the other Pokémon introduced themselves. The Rapidash introduced herself as Hayzin's mate, Flinyta. The two small Ponyta were named Dashar and Rappard. Squirtle found it curious that despite their young age, they performed the ritual instead of simply being introduced by their parents.

Squirtle did not know what to expect from the Taillow, who said her name was Willow. She puffed her feathers as she swung her wings forward to buffet Squirtle's headbutt. Squirtle rebounded and immediately looked around suspiciously. But no one else had intervened. He'd thought there was no way Willow could have delivered such a powerful blow, but that's what had happened.

"Haven't you heard the expression Squirtle? Size doesn't win fights!" the Taillow laughed.

"Sorry," muttered Squirtle. "Not used to introducing myself; I'm not from around here."

The Bellossom, named Doddi, performed a simple tackle. The predictable attack was a welcome relief.

Lastly, the Seviper introduced herself. "Viper, short for Se-viper. Got it?" Her long body twisted, allowing the flat of her bladed tail to swat at Squirtle's head. He repelled it appropriately. Quil repeated the process.

The introductions were finished, but nothing remained to talk about. Quil still looked itching to get away, so Squirtle said something about not wanting to prevent the group from moving on.

"Fight well," said Hayzin, as the group departed toward Cavetown. Were those typical words of parting among Pokémon, or cryptic encouragement? Hayzin struck Squirtle as an astute Pokémon, but he wasn't sure what else to make of the Zebstrika.

Viper the Seviper loudly started up a conversation, and Squirtle thought he heard a collective sigh, before the group turned right at a slight bend and was gone from view. Quil came back to Squirtle's side and spoke.

"Sorry I was quiet. Our time in Karprest has made a lasting impression on me of Electrics, so I wasn't comfortable being anywhere near that Zebstrika until I had to be."

"I understand," said Squirtle. "I didn't know he was an Electric-type until he mentioned it, or I would have been more cautious myself."

"He seemed agreeable; it's not that I didn't trust him, it's just his Type and those memories."

"You don't have to explain yourself Quil, I know exactly what you mean. I must say, it was nice to meet an Electric-type who wasn't insane."

Quil chuckled. "Definitely. Going by what he said though, Blindhollow's got another crazy Zapper. Whatever caused the Electric boost must have rattled the brains of some of the boost recipients. Even that Elekid was particularly nasty."

A light gust rippled through the grasses. Squirtle eyed the horizon skies as he considered Quil's idea. Some darker clouds were making an appearance. Maybe there would be rain that night or in the morning.

"That's a good point, certainly. We've met many unsavory Electrics. But the ones we saw serving under Stolt looked subservient, not like they were guided by some wicked morality in doing his bidding. And, we heard that Electabuzz as we were leaving Karprest who sounded like he was trying to stir up a rebellion. He couldn't have gone crazy from the boost. Though, his rebellion idea could be perceived as irrationally belligerent, I suppose."

Quil was quiet, and seemed to listen keenly to his words. Squirtle appreciated it, and finished cautiously with, "But of course I may be wrong. Maybe there was some sort of corrupting influence during the storm, and Pokémon like Hayzin resisted it for some reason. Anything's possible at this point."

"We should have asked him if he felt strange during the storm," suggested Quil, and Squirtle nodded. "Still hard to believe your theory is truth now, Squirtle. It's so unnatural, so backward."

Squirtle had the sense that the Type classifications of Pokémon were supposed to all be balanced, such that no Type was considered best. The moves of a certain Type may be considered the most physically powerful, for example, but that was balanced by certain weaknesses. And Pokémon of a certain Type might tend to be faster than average, but they would tend to be set back by advantages that other Types possessed. Squirtle lacked specific memories of a balanced world, but he still understood that the current situation was very abnormal. It left a sour taste in his mouth. No doubt Quil, and all Pokémon besides Squirtle, now saw the world as twisted.

Quil said, "Anyway, we still have to decide which way to go. Though after that conversation," he turned to the path leading to Cavetown, "I guess it's clear which way we should go."

"Yes," replied Squirtle. "Blindhollow sounds like it's not a sightseeing destination anymore. Dangerous, too."

"Definitely."

Together, they stood where the path from the Karp river met the larger path from Blindhollow to Cavetown. Neither made any move toward Cavetown. Another small gust tousled the grasses of Blind Prairie. The wind felt nice, made Squirtle feel alive after the tedium of days of walking. The gust died down, and still Squirtle and Quil were motionless.

"We're going to Blindhollow, aren't we?" asked Squirtle.

"Yep. I think we are," said Quil.

"Personally, I'm curious," said Squirtle. "I fear we'd miss a piece of the puzzle if we skipped Blindhollow after witnessing the events of Karprest unfold, first-hand. Also, the Seed Nursery sounds intriguing; I'm not used to seeing fantastical things, like seeds that do more than just grow into plants. Especially if it's run by a Wartortle."

And that's not mentioning the chance of finding a Psychic to help me, Squirtle added in his head.

"Why do you want to go to Blindhollow?" he asked.

"I...I'm not sure," said Quil. "Just a feeling. And as they say: Your head thinks, your gut knows."

Squirtle gave him a playful smirk. "Oh? So you have an adventurous streak in you!"

"Me? No, no! No way. I want to finish this journey as soon as possible. I want it over with."

"Yet we're going to Blindhollow, correct?"

Quil sighed softly. "Yeah."

"How are we going to do this?" asked Quil.

The sun was only two or three hours from setting by the time Squirtle and Quil arrived at Blindhollow, with a spring in their steps. From the grasses' edge, Quil and Squirtle poked their heads out to survey the town without being spotted by anyone within it.

Blindhollow, predictably enough, was located in a hollow in the midst of Blind Prairie's lush grasses. The ground cratered perhaps thirty feet at its deepest, in the center. The entire depression was clear of grass, but at the same time surrounded by grass as well, like a curtain for privacy. Boasting a diameter of about two hundred and fifty feet, Squirtle estimated it would take him two to three minutes to walk from edge to edge of the crater. That placed the town at a bit smaller than Karprest.

Three paths were the only breaks in the crater's grass curtain. The first was the one that Quil and Squirtle had entered by, before hurriedly scurrying into the grass cover for reconnaissance. The other two were on the southern edge and the northeastern edge of the crater, and led to parts unknown.

Blindhollow's structures took up most of the crater's area. The architecture was similar to Karprest, which was sensible to Squirtle since most of the same building materials would be on hand in the similar environments. These buildings were more neatly arranged, seeming to be built in roughly concentric circles around the hollow's center. With no flooding river next door, the buildings lacked raised supports to keep them off the ground. They also utilized mudbricks in place of Karprest's wooden boards and paneling for the most part. The mud played another role, as a few buildings were little more than short mounds of shaped mud that hinted at rooms beneath ground level.

Squirtle scanned what he could see of Blindhollow from his position. Though the curve of the crater granted a nice angle of view on the town, much was still hidden behind other buildings, or too far to make out in detail. Armed with the knowledge that Blindhollow was famous for Wartortle's Seed Nursery, he looked for that first. Finding it was easy; a large swath of greenery covered a portion of the the crater slope on the opposite side from Squirtle and Quil. Little else looked to be growing in the town, so Squirtle surmised that the green had to be the Nursery. It was on the edge of town.

Squirtle recalled Hayzin mentioning something about a Prison, but did not know what that would look like. The only other feature of note was a pond at the exact center of the crater. He could glimpse parts of its far bank over some roofs and gaps in the buildings on the crater's near side.

Of course any water source would have to be in the middle of the crater. Anywhere else, and it would drain to the center, thought Squirtle.

The rest of the buildings looked to be living spaces, gathering places, and structures for purposes that Squirtle could only guess at. He wasn't sure what else one might find in a Pokémon town, or even how town-dwelling Pokémon spent their free time.

The journey through Blind Prairie had been quiet for the majority of the time. The quiet persisted in Blindhollow. Sounds of activity reached Squirtle and Quil – small splashes in the water, the clearing of a throat, a door clicking shut – but none were loud. None were carefree or jovial. The atmosphere in the town struck Squirtle as cautious, as subdued. Sheltered in the huge depression, the very air was still.

"Wartortle's Seed Nursery," Squirtle said to Quil. "It's got to be that greenery, over there. Do you see it? That's what I want to explore first. Maybe we could talk to the Wartortle too, and learn from a denizen of Blindhollow what the state of affairs here is. I don't think we want to stroll into town, announcing our presence and arousing the notice of Raizula. We don't know who is serving or advocating her, so we want to limit contact with the Pokémon here." He paused to allow Quil to speak his thoughts.

Quil did not comment immediately. Squirtle turned his head to glance at his companion. He could not see the look in Quil's eyes, for they were mere wrinkles in his fur, but Squirtle imagined they'd have a twinkle in them. Quil's snout was tucked, his brow raised. Squirtle knew that Quil was giving him 'the look' again. He turned away, pretending to not notice so as to limit his embarrassment.

"Sorry," said Quil quietly. "You're just not like any...sorry. Your points so far sound reasonable to me. Please, go on."

Obviously, Quil knows I'm different than other Pokémon, and not just because I lost my memory. We've been sticking together far too long for him to not pick up on it. The question I see is: why hasn't he asked me about it further? Quil is an honest Pokémon who has opened up about topics he's not proud of when I asked him about them. Yet he hasn't really urged me to do the same.

Squirtle's frown deepened.

Is he too shy? Too kind to ask me questions I don't want to answer? Too respectful? I'm sure he doesn't want me to have another breakdown like the one outside of Swanna's lodge, so he's not pressing me. Or does he just not know what questions to ask? Maybe to him, there's no possible explanation for my behavior other than the theory I've chosen not to correct: that I've always been a Pokémon, but one from far away. Maybe Quil can't suspect any alternative, because my kind is not known to him. Or not known to any Pokémon, period. That would explain why he hasn't identified any of my mannerisms and other tell-tale signs as non-Pokémon.

So if Quil has no opinions of the form I once wore, then shouldn't I come clean? Spilling all the information I have would be a weight off my shell at the worst, and a valuable decision at best, if Quil knows about my kind. Where to find them, for example.

Gah, these logical leaps and connections are tenuous. Maybe Quil hates my kind, but still believe me to be a Pokémon from a distant land and culture. Maybe I'll lose my only friend the next time Quil studies my strange behavior. If a Psychic-

"Squirtle?" prompted Quil, with a guilty, concerned tone.

His thoughts were in rapid-fire, but now was not the time to think those thoughts. They did not have all day to spend at Blindhollow, and a plan still had to be finalized then executed. The future held time enough for pondering Quil's opinion of him. What he'd been thinking about would not affect the evening's activities, so Squirtle shook his head to clear it.

"Sorry. The plan. Yes, the plan. If we make it to the Seed Nursery, but decide to get a closer look into the town, we can slowly and cautiously sneak downward to the center. Otherwise, we can slip back up to the crater's edge and vanish, the same way we came in. Is there anything you want to get done while we're here?"

"Nope, nothing you haven't already mentioned. See exactly what the Nursery is, and get a feel for Blindhollow as it is right now. Just being here and doing something instead of walking away is gratifying in a small way." His mouth formed a little 'O' and he seemed to look at Squirtle sharply.

"What?" asked Squirtle.

"I'm surprised at what I said. Huh. I'm not sure it's true."

"No, I see where you're coming from. The world is going a little crazy, so turning a blind eye to the Pokémon affected would almost make you answerable for their plight. Right?"

With a laugh, Quil said, "I couldn't have said it any better myself. Without the strange expressions, though, if you don't mind me saying so."

Briefly, Squirtle's thoughts turned inward as well. Was he really here just to satisfy his curiosity, and to have a chance of broadening his understanding of the Electric-type boost? Again, a question for a later time.

Squirtle once more considered how feasible it would be to see more of Blindhollow than the Nursery. Sneaking around would be difficult. No wind would sweep away sounds. No foliage would grant them cover. The only significant advantage of the conditions was the sky. A cover of gray had obscured the sun, dimming the light before sunset even approached.

"By the way," said Quil, following his gaze. "Those look like rainclouds, and I bet they'll burst before morning."

Squirtle nodded, trusting Quil's assessment of a natural phenomenon. "Alright."

"You should know that I...won't be very useful in the open rain. I'll need to find shelter. That shouldn't affect the plan, right? We have time." Quil turned his head away, and scratched an itch on his neck with the tip of one foot. Or pretended to, at any rate, since Squirtle judged that Quil was faking an itch just so he wouldn't have to meet Squirtle's eyes. He was probably embarrassed about his issue.

"Er, okay Quil. I agree, that shouldn't be a problem. We'll steal back to the grasses before it pours."

Quil looked appeased by this, but not completely. Squirtle couldn't blame him. As with the Karp river, water was an element that Quil needed to avoid. He'd already seen what would happen to Quil if he was forced too close to water. He resolved to prevent such a situation from occurring again. Quil didn't deserve to be reduced to a terrified little ball of fur and flame.

"Is there anything else we haven't yet considered? Are we ready to go?" asked Squirtle.

"Oh, I should probably extinguish my fire, since we're aiming for stealth." With that, the flames of Quil's back dwindled in an uneven progression, much like they had in Swanna's lodge, until they sputtered out. He signaled to Squirtle his readiness.

"Good call," commented Squirtle.

The pair backed away from the crater's edge, then crept around the perimeter of the crater until they were on the side closest to the suspected Seed Nursery. Initially, Squirtle counted himself lucky that they encountered no wild-dwelling Pokémon, but then concluded that it was unlikely. If he were to choose one spot to live, he'd either choose a settlement, or a part of the wild that was a decent distance from one. Why live right on the edge of a settlement, as if trying to inhabit both worlds?

Looking out again from the grasses that ringed the Blindhollow crater, Squirtle could see no Pokémon looking their way, or indeed any at all in open view. He was reminded of the atmosphere in Karprest following Stolt's attack on Quil and himself. Though if everyone was minding their own business, the atmosphere was a good one for sneaking.

The pair stepped out of their cover, and made for the greenery on the slope. Squirtle moved as fast as he could while making little sound on the dirt he trod, and Quil matched his pace. As far as he could tell in the swift advance, no faces peeked out of windows, no figures stopped in the dirt roads between buildings to watch them.

They reached the mudbrick fence that enclosed the plants in what felt like half a minute, but Squirtle concluded in hindsight must have been only a few seconds. The fence must have been meant solely to demarcate the plot of land meant for the plants growing within, instead of any intruder deterrent purposes, because it was only five feet tall and looked easy to clamber over. The area enclosed was one or two thousand square feet, and rectangular: two long sides, two short sides. The two short sides were parallel to the nearby edge of the crater. Squirtle and Quil were next to one of said sides. At the other shorter side stood a brick building connected to the enclosed area. Other buildings stood adjacent to the rectangular mudbrick fence and associated structure, all seeming to be part of one of the concentric circles in Blindhollow's building arrangement. Thus, Squirtle and Quil were located in a broad alley.

"That building could be where they keep gardening tools and supplies for the Seed Nursery," murmured Quil.

"We could walk right in its front door, and hope Raizula or anyone working with her don't see us or hear about it, or we could hop this fence right now." Squirtle was going to offer an opinion, but Quil spoke up first.

"I'm not trespassing on that property. Pokémon probably pay money to see it, regardless of how Raizula has changed things. Let's take our chances with the first option, okay Squirtle?"

Quil had a solid point. The grand total worth of all of their current possessions and money was a whopping zero. If they could not pay a fee or fine, how else would they be expected to pay?

Inching toward the building ahead while hugging the brick fence's long side, the lateral wall of the building came up next to them. A couple of open windows were its only feature. The front doors had to be on the other side, the broader side facing the road that ran in what looked like a circle around the crater's center. Unfortunately, venturing to the main side of the structure would expose them considerably to the road, and potential identification as travelers. Squirtle hesitated, not wanting to round the corner.

Squirtle stepped away from the wall, allowing Quil to move up from behind him. At that moment, a Turtwig and its evolution – Squirtle could not recall its species name – crossed the mouth of the alley where it met the road. They likely would not have noticed the pair, as they were quite close to the wall, but Quil was evidently surprised by their appearance. The furless spots on his back hissed as they reignited. They did not cast a sizable flame as usual, but quickly died back down. Quil must have immediately reigned in his surprise and regained control of his back's flames.

The damage had been done. Though still daytime, the sound and light of Quil's fires drew the Turtwig's attention. That in turn drew the other Pokémon's attention. With suspicious expressions, they glanced into the alleyway.

When Quil had stiffened and his spots had taken on a ruddy glow, Squirtle planted himself against the building's wall, as far out of sight as he could. It was not enough. He could still see the road, so those two Pokémon would still be able to see him, and definitely Quil. There was only one way to go.

In retrospect, Squirtle realized it would have aroused far less suspicion to be walking in an alley than to jump through a window. Maybe the two Pokémon would have just thought them strange travelers, dismissing the matter from their minds. Panic had pushed Squirtle to do something impulsive and regrettable.

"Up!" he hissed to Quil, as he swung his gaze upward to locate the open window in the wall. He jumped and hoisted himself through without a backward glance. Quil was a second behind him. Together they half-fell, half-landed in the room.

What a room it was. Large wooden doors to the road were the only real entrance, with another set of doors leading to the plot of land they'd skirted. The room was huge, and looked to take up the entire building, like a grand lobby. The ground, like most of the construction Squirtle had seen, was made of rock-hard dried mudbricks.

Framed display cases adorned the walls, each one of them showing a plant component. Some were flowers, others root structures cleaned of dirt residue, but most of them were seeds. Seeds as big as Squirtle's fist, seeds no larger than a finger's claw, yellow seeds, red seeds, green seeds, shriveled and wrinkled seeds, bulbous and smooth seeds. If the displays were not meant to showcase the huge diversity of seed properties, they nonetheless managed to succeed at it. Each had a strip of parchment at the bottom with big blocky letters. They might have been labels, but Squirtle did not examine any of them closely enough to attempt reading it. His attention was reserved for the fascinating contents of the displays.

Like Quil had predicted, tools for gardening were in abundance on the other end of the room. Rakes, trimmers of various sizes, a plow, buckets, ropes of a few thicknesses, and many more for which Squirtle could not determine the purpose, let alone the name. Doubtless, he was not a gardener or botanist before he was a Squirtle.

While Squirtle was momentarily mesmerized by the room, Quil grabbed one of Squirtle's hands with his two forelimbs and tugged him onward.

"Let's get out of sight, away from the windows," Quil said quickly. Indeed, six windows in total lined the room's walls, granting them a fair view of Blindhollow, and granting Blindhollow a fair view of them. Squirtle allowed himself to be tugged forward, and they sought refuge from sight on the opposite side of the room. Windows flanked the corner, and a supply closet filled with tools blocked view of the window from which they'd entered.

No doors were busted down, nor did any inquiring shouts come from the windows while they waited, hidden. The tense moment passed. Squirtle took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself. This was definitely the right place. If this was not the building connected to the Seed Nursery, nothing was.

"Sorry," Quil whispered. "The Turtwig and Grotle surprised me, and my fire was igniting before I knew it. Just instincts. I really should-"

The double doors leading to the plot of greenery swung inward. A Wartortle walked slowly inside, and set a basket down as it peered around the expansive room. Something about its appearance screamed 'male' at Squirtle. He was a rather large individual, larger than Squirtle would have expected from a Wartortle, but maybe Squirtle hadn't yet fully adjusted to his new perspective. The brown of his shell was a bit faded, with visible wear and tear in the form of scratches and worn down edges. Also, the wing-like fur around his ears and the fur of his tail were a sky blue instead of the typical lighter aquamarine color.

"Hello?" the Wartortle called. Squirtle started.

He sounds so much like me! thought Squirtle. Deeper pitch though.

The Wartortle quickly eyed the room. He seemed to know it well, as his gaze landed upon Quil and Squirtle in no time where they hid by the tool-filled closet.

Quil twitched. Squirtle froze. He wasn't sure what to say.

"Eh? What are you doing over there?" asked the Wartortle. Squirtle opened his mouth but said nothing.

Quil said, "Um. Exploring. Looking around."

The Wartortle laughed, the easy and quieter laugh of one who has heard many, many jokes. "You won't find anything interesting over there, Cyndaquil, Squirtle. My Nursery is what you've come to see, yes? Let me give you the tour."

Squirtle and Quil glanced at each other. Was this good fortune, or the end of their success at stealth? The Wartortle sounded honest, and Quil was already walking out of the corner to join the Wartortle. Squirtle nodded slowly, but prepared himself to flee if the Wartortle seemed untrustworthy or moved to sell them out.

"First time visitors?" asked the Wartortle kindly.

"Yes," said Quil and Squirtle together.

The Wartortle smiled like a storyteller about to begin his story, as if he knew they were in for a treat. He pulled open the double doors to reveal the Seed Nursery.